by A. Giannetti
“There is no sympathy for Ascilius in his heart,” thought Elerian to himself. “What drives his dislike of his uncle, I wonder?”
“All of our people are gathered safely together here in Iulius thanks to you and your companion,” continued Dardanus, “but now the Goblins are at my gates. I did not think I would ever hear such evil tidings in my old age.”
“Torquatus has grown very powerful,” observed Ascilius. “He has long prepared for a war which he hopes will bring all of the Middle Realm under his rule.”
“We can hold Iulius for a very long time against him, but I fear the day will come when his forces will overwhelm this kingdom too,” replied Dardanus sadly. “Would that we still had our old allies to stand beside us again in these troubled times. They were the true masters of the forest, the only ones able to best the Goblins under the trees.”
“It is useless to think of the Elves,” said Eonis somberly. “Those that survived the destruction of Fimbria have fled the Middle Realm and will not return. The only help we could have looked for would have been from the Tarsi, but they, too, stand alone, cut off from us by the Goblins and the dragon. We Dwarves must fight alone now.”
A gloomy silence fell over the room, one which Elerian was reluctant to break, but he was eager to question Dardanus about the panel that he had seen.
“If you do not mind my asking, I have a question about one of the carved panels in your hall,” said Elerian hesitantly to Dardanus. “The trees that are pictured there are the same ones that I often see in my dreams.”
“That is strange indeed,” said Dardanus with a puzzled look on his face. “The race of beeches portrayed in that carving was ended by the fire which raged through Fimbria, destroying all life in that land”
“Perhaps not all life,” suggested Elerian. “After I was captured by the Goblins in my youth, I was taken through Fimbria. By chance on the journey, I touched the stump of one of the great trees that can still be seen in that dead land. At the moment of contact I saw visions of the past which have been with me ever since.”
Dardanus looked at Elerian thoughtfully. “There is a foretelling that the trees of Fimbria will rise again when the reign of Torquatus is ended,” he said quietly.
“Then they will never grow again,” replied Elerian somberly. “I saw the might of the dark king when I traveled through Nefandus. I cannot imagine what power would bring an end to him.”
“Nor can I,” replied Dardanus, “but that does not mean that it does not exist and that the prophecy will not be fulfilled. Is there any other simpler question which I might answer?” asked the old king with a kind smile.
“Can you tell me the history of the Elves and the Dwarves,” asked Elerian hopefully. “I have heard bits and pieces but never the whole tale.”
Dardanus laughed softly at Elerian’s request. “Never ask the old to recount their past, Elerian,” he said with a smile. “You may get more than you bargained for. Still, it gives me pleasure to remember those days. Long ago, after the great enemy whom Torquatus served for a time was defeated and the power of the Goblins was broken, the Elves in the north were sundered. Many were weary of the long years of war and took ship over the western sea from whence, it is said, they first appeared, for the old legends of the Dwarves speak of a time when there were no Elves or men either for that matter in the Middle Realm. Those of their kindred who had not tired of the Middle Realm decided to remain behind but not in the north where they had dwelt for long ages. Fenius, the king of the Elves, decided to travel south in search of a new home for his people, free of the shadow of the Goblins, for a few remnants of the Umbrae, as we Dwarves call the Goblin people, were still alive, hidden in deep, inaccessible caves in the mountains of the West.
“When word reached the Dwarves that the Elves were moving to new lands, I also felt the urge to seek out a new dwelling place, for in those days, like my nephew Ascilius, I was stricken with wanderlust and felt hemmed in by the halls of my forefathers, for there was a fourth brother, older than I, who stood to inherit the kingship from my father. Also, our mines were old, and it was hard for the young to gather treasure and to prosper. There were many who thought as I did, including my two younger brothers. Together we sought permission to travel with Fenius and glad he was of our company, for together, our peoples made up a great host.
“We took only what we could carry on our backs and what we could load on our ponies. Ten thousand Dwarves we were and an equal number of Elves. Our line of march stretched for miles. It was a sight to gladden the heart, sturdy Dwarves in bright mail and tall Elves with shining gray eyes.
“After a long journey through high, rugged mountains and vast forests, we each found lands to our liking and our people prospered for many long years. We Dwarves built our cities under the mountains, but the Elves kept to the forests west of our lands between the two rivers. They were ever a people of the woodland, loving the night and the light of the stars and the moon. We did not agree on everything, especially in our magic, for they inquired into many things the Dwarves did not, but we there was peace and trade between us. All that changed when Torquatus followed us south with his Goblins, for unbeknownst to any of us, he had survived the death of his master.”
“I have heard the stories of the wars which followed,” said Elerian, “in part from the Ancharians and in part from the Tarsi.”
“I will not repeat that sad history, then,” said Dardanus. “After Fimbria burned, all the Elves disappeared except for two. It was rumored that Dymiter, cut off by the burning forest and severely wounded, fled to Tarsius, but the Tarsi, fearing the wrath of Torquatus, have never confirmed this.”
“The rumors are true,” volunteered Ascilius. “I leaned when I was last in Tarsius that he did live among them for time before he died of his injuries. Orianus is descended from him.” Elerian wished then that Ascilius had not spoken, for Herias’s dark eyes took on an odd gleam when he heard that bit of knowledge.
“Alas, for the loss of the hands and mind of Dymiter,” sighed Dardanus. “This was his gift to me, given long years ago,” he said as he held up his gnarled right hand. On his thumb was a great ring of gold, marvelously wrought and containing a great faceted stone of sparkling adamant, the first that Elerian had seen, for it was the rarest of gems. When Elerian looked closely at the ring, the stone filled with a soft light. In its clear depths he saw the same scene in miniature that he had seen on the carved panel in Dardanus’s hall. By some art of the ring, the scene was wonderfully clear, and as he stared at it, it grew in his mind until he could see the faces of the tiny figures.
“Who are they?” asked Elerian, wonder in his voice.
“I am one of the three Dwarves that you see there,” said Dardanus. “Eonis and Fundanus, my brothers, are the other two. The Elves are Fenius, his daughter Indrawyn, and the mage Dymiter. He gave me the ring as a token of the friendship between the Elves and the Dwarves who had come over the Murus together from the west.”
Elerian found that Fenius was easily identified by his crown. The identity of Dymiter was also easily discerned, for his wise features reminded him at once of Anthea. The clear gray eyes of Indrawyn held Elerian’s attention the longest, for they seemed familiar to him, awakening a sense of loss that pierced his heart like a knife.
“Indrawyn also fled the burning of Fimbria with Dymiter, but she disappeared while he fought with Torquatus,” continued Dardanus. “There are rumors to this day that she fled south, alone into the wild wood, but it has never been confirmed.”
“That is where I was found as a child by the man who raised me,” said Elerian quietly as he looked from the ring to Dardanus’s ancient, dark eyes.
“Reveal yourself, Elerian,” said Ascilius impatiently. “There is no need for concealment here.”
“I wonder,” thought Elerian to himself with a sidelong look at Herias. Despite his unease, he did as Ascilius asked, ending the illusion spell that concealed his identity. Neither Dardanus nor Eonis seemed much s
urprised, but Herias started slightly when he saw Elerian’s true form.
“I suspected that you might be an Eirian,” said Dardanus quietly. “You greatly resemble Indrawyn in your true form.”
Elerian was startled by Dardanus’s words but then thought to himself, “He is very old and may be mistaken.” His thought, however, carried no conviction. Faced with a mounting pile of evidence, he had come to accept the Elven side of his heritage without realizing it. Only one question now remained. “If Indrawyn is my truly mother then who was my father?” wondered Elerian to himself. Before he could pursue the thought, however, a sturdy Dwarf in bright chainmail entered the room. After casting a startled, sidelong glance at Elerian, he bowed low to Dardanus.
“My lord,” he said somberly, a great force of Goblins arrived before the main gate to the Caldaria two days ago. An Ancharian carrying a white flag has asked to speak with you, claiming to carry a message for you from Torquatus, himself. I have ridden day and night to bring you his request.”
“I will treat with no Goblin and none of their puppets,” said Dardanus firmly to the messenger. “Send the Ancharian away.”
‘My lord, it would not hurt to hear what he has to say,” interrupted Herias softly.
Dardanus favored his grand nephew with a long, thoughtful look. “Herias, you are young yet,” he said quietly. “No good ever came of treating with the Umbrae. Whatever message this Ancharian carries will be crafted for our undoing.”
“Let me at least listen to what he has to say,” urged Herias. “If his words are worthy of your ears, I will carry his message back to you.”
“Go then, if that is what you wish,” said Dardanus, reluctantly giving in. Herias quit the room at once along with the Dwarf who had brought the message.
“No good will come of this, uncle,” said Ascilius bluntly to Dardanus. “Torquatus is subtle, and his message will almost certainly cause unrest once it is generally known.”
“I agree,” said Dardanus heavily, “but Herias and the other younger Dwarves need to learn firsthand what it means to treat with the Umbrae. The Ancharian’s message will find its way through our walls somehow. It will be better to have it out in the open than whispered about secretly in dark corridors. But enough of such somber matters. One of my attendants will show you to the rooms that have been set aside for you here in my home. It will be two days before Herias returns. Use the time to show Elerian our city. We will talk again when Herias delivers his report, for I value you opinion in this matter.”
There was no missing the note of dismissal in the old king’s voice. Without further argument, Ascilius rose to his feet and bowed to his uncles. Followed by Elerian, he left the room, following an old Dwarf wearing a brown tunic edged with gold thread to a set of luxurious rooms consisting of a parlor, a bathroom, and two bedrooms.
“Another delay,” said Elerian impatiently after Ascilius had dispatched the old Dwarf to fetch their gear and weapons from the inn where they had stayed the previous night. “I begin to fear that I shall never leave Iulius in time to intercept Anthea.”
“Two more days added to the four we have spent together is still less than the week that you promised me,” replied Ascilius serenely. “I will wait as I promised,” replied Elerian grudgingly, “but at the end of three days I must depart, even if it means leaving everything behind and flying over the mountains in my hawk shape.”
“It will not come to that,” said Ascilius reassuringly. “Now, let us explore the city as my uncle ordered. It is an opportunity you should not miss, for given the uncertain state of the world, you may never pass this way again.”
THE EMISSARY
Elerian and Ascilius spent the rest of the day exploring the first level of the city where the mines and stables were. They visited the caverns that held the smelters first, watching as Dwarves in heavy leather gear poured yellow gold, bright silver, and white hot iron into molds that shaped them into ingots. In the next cavern Elerian saw Dwarves freeing gemstones from the stony matrixes in which they were embedded. At the urging of Ascilius, he reluctantly followed the Dwarf down rough tunnels that ran far under the mountains around Iulius. Unlike the Goblin mine where he and Ascilius had labored for so many years, Elerian found that the Dwarf tunnels were well lit with mage lights and the air was wholesome, if warm, even in the deepest passageways. Nowhere did he see any of the misery and suffering that had been his constant companions in the Goblins’ mines. The Dwarves they passed showed no resentment of their tasks, talking or singing in deep voices as they labored willingly with pickaxes and shovels, mining gold, silver, iron, and precious gems.
In a shaft so far beneath the earth that Elerian thought they would never come to the end of it, Ascilius showed him where rare crystals of adamant were being mined, a gem so hard that it could only be shaped with magic. Like argentum it was well suited to the exercise of magic as evidenced by the stone they had seen on Dardanus's finger.
When Elerian tired of the mines, which, much to Ascilius’s disappointment, was rather quickly, they took their dinner at an inn that was located in one of the towers that rose up on the slopes of Calidius. The weather having taken a turn for the worse, they entered the tower through a small ramp on the fourth level of the city. Although their booth sat next to a large window, there was nothing to see outside, for it was raining heavily, a sight which filled Elerian with a strange foreboding. After their meal, the two companions retired for the night to their rooms. Ascilius immediately sought out his comfortable bed, but Elerian paced restlessly beside his, wishing that he could begin his journey to Tarsius at once.
“Is it thoughts of me that make you restless?” asked an amused voice.
Elerian started and stopped, looking expectantly around him. His hopes were fulfilled when he saw Anthea standing behind him, dressed in green hunter’s garb, a mischievous look lighting her cobalt eyes. Immediately, his third eye opened, showing him the pale cloak of an illusion masking the fainter outline of a golden shade. Although it was what he had expected to see, he still felt a sharp disappointment that Anthea was not present in her corporeal form.
“I will not deny it,” said Elerian lightly. “But how is it that you are here, Anthea? I am in no danger other than being bored to death by Ascilius’s lectures on mining.”
“My powers seem to have finally grown more amenable to my control,” replied Anthea happily. “I wished to be here with you as I have so many times before, but this time I was immediately able to pass through the portal that lies between our rings. Are you safely in Iulius now?”
“Ascilius and I entered the city yesterday,” replied Elerian.
“Why do you linger here then?” asked Anthea impatiently. “If Ascilius and his people are inside the Caldaria, they are as safe now as anyone can be in this Middle Realm.”
“I wait on Ascilius,” replied Elerian ruefully. “He has promised to show me a way out of Iulius, but only after he meets with his uncle the day after tomorrow. Having survived and overcome countless physical dangers, I am now ensnared by mundane politics which I cannot overcome with either my weapons or my magic.”
“It seems that you always have another excuse to stay away from me,” said Anthea in a reproachful voice. “Are you certain you have not some other reason to avoid leaving? Have you met some new paramour, like the red haired Peregrin, who has surpassed me in your heart,” she asked suspiciously, a frown marring her fair brow.
“Will you beat me with a stick again if I answer yes,” asked Elerian lightly, although he was uncertain, as always, as to whether she was being serious or playful.
“I may,” replied Anthea, a sudden gleam of laughter turning her eyes brilliant as sapphires all aglow in the strong light of the sun. “You would do well to remember that I have become a dangerous woman now that I have mastered the necklace.”
“The peril you present only makes you more desirable in my eyes, for hard won fruit is that much sweeter,” replied Elerian, his own eyes alight with humor now
that he was certain of her mood.
“But you have not won me yet,” said Anthea mockingly. “To accomplish that feat, you must return to my side, an action you seem less than eager to accomplish.”
“That is unfair, Anthea,” replied Elerian, abandoning wordplay and becoming serious once more. “Had I followed the dictates of my heart, I would have long since have returned to Tarsius.”
“Your soothing words and unconvincing apologies are no longer necessary,” said Anthea abruptly, her voice and features suddenly becoming stern. “I have come to you tonight to tell you that you no longer have any need to return to Tarsius.”
Elerian felt his heart drop. “Has she finally given in to one of her suitors?” he wondered glumly to himself, searching Anthea’s cool blue eyes for the answer, but they told him nothing of her thoughts.
“Did you think that I would wait for you forever,” asked Anthea dryly, her tone confirming his worst fears.
“That was your promise when we parted, but I release you from it,” said Elerian miserably. “When you return to Niveaus, you have only to remove your ring and the link between us will be severed.”
“But how would I find you without my ring?” asked Anthea innocently.
“Why would you need to find me?” asked Elerian, confusion flooding through him as he tried to reconcile Anthea’s disturbing words with the sudden gleam of laughter in her eyes.
“I have been waiting for days for the weather to change so that I can slip unnoticed out of the city to join you. What did you think I meant to do?” asked Anthea slyly.
“Never mind what I thought,” replied Elerian ruefully, realizing at last that the sight and sound of her had muddled his wits again, making him easy prey for her quick humor.
“How long will it take you to reach Iulius?” he asked good naturedly, for a well-executed jest was something to be appreciated and laughed at even if it was on him.
“Ten days if I ride at a moderate pace,” replied Anthea, becoming serious. “Are you done counseling me to wait?” she asked curiously.