The Dwarf Kingdoms (Book 5) (34 page)

“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 surprised, 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.

“The time for waiting is over,” replied Elerian gravely. “I will come to you empty handed, except for my weapons, so it is in my mind that we will to journey to the Abercius as you suggested before. There is a treasure there which we may seek together, using it to make peace with your father if we are successful in retrieving it. It will be a dangerous life, Anthea, full of uncertainty and hardship. Are you certain that you wish to share it with me,” asked Elerian, looking deep into the fathomless blue pools that were her eyes.

“If I desired a safe, quiet life by a warm hearth, I could have that with any one of the suitors who pursue me,” Anthea reminded him impatiently.

“Our course is set then,” said Elerian firmly. “The day after tomorrow, after Herias returns, I will press Ascilius hard, telling him again of my desire to leave. I should reach the plains well ahead of you Anthea, but if anything goes amiss on no account are you to try to reach Iulius. The Goblin army is already at the gates of the Caldaria.”

“I will wait if you are delayed, but not for too long,” replied Anthea with a shrug of her shoulders. “I may be pursued by my father’s forces and have no mind to be brought unwilling back to Niveaus. Do not disappoint me, Elerian,” she concluded softly, her voice intense and her blue eyes suddenly incandescent with longing. Elerian felt as if Ascilius’s hammer had suddenly come down on his head as a yearning equal to her own swept over him.

“Can either of us endure a love that burns so fiercely,” he wondered apprehensively. “I feel that I would die if she was suddenly taken from me.”

Abruptly, before he could make any reply, Anthea’s illusory form was drawn back into the golden thread that stretched from his ring to her own, vanishing through the portal at the end of the gleaming filament.

“Her mastery of the talisman is still not complete,” thought Elerian to himself after Anthea disappeared, “but at least this time we were able to agree on a course of action.”

He did not sleep that night or even walk the dream paths, for his mind was in turmoil, and his blood heated by a desire to be on his way. The sun was just breaking over the horizon in the outside world when he impatiently dragged Ascilius out of bed. When he told the sleepy Dwarf of Anthea’s decision to travel to Iulius, however, Ascilius was not greatly concerned.

“Do not worry,” he advised Elerian. “Anthea is not likely to be in any danger from Eboria, for the dragon is not likely to fly far from her bed with the Goblins so close to Ennodius. Anthea’s horses and her weapon skills will serve to keep her safe from any other threat that she might encounter on her journey. If you set out immediately after my uncle speaks with Herias, you will meet her on the plains while she is still far from the borders of Iulius.”

“My thoughts align closely with your own, but it will still be difficult to wait one more day,” said Elerian restively.

“The time will pass quickly,” Ascilius assured him. “I have much more to show you today.”

Elerian groaned at the thought of examining more mines, but today, after breakfast, Ascilius took him to the forges and workshops on the second level of the city, places that had more interest for him. The scent of hot metal was perfume to his nose and the ring of hammers music to his ears. Despite his eagerness to leave Iulius, he quickly became absorbed watching the Dwarf artisans ply their trades. Although they were wonderfully skilled, Elerian soon noticed that most of them exercised their craft without the aid of magic. When he mentioned this to Ascilius, the Dwarf laughed.

“Even among the Dwarves and the Elves, too, for that matter, mages are not to be found under every rock,” replied Ascilius. “In these workrooms you will see only a few individuals who can shape metal, stone, and wood with their magic.”

Ascilius’s explanation came as a surprise to Elerian. From Tullius's lessons in his youth, he knew that magic was a rare gift among humans, but he had somehow thought it would be different among the other races. Eventually, Ascilius was forced to drag Elerian away so that he could show him the third level of the city. There, as they walked through throngs of Dwarves dressed in brightly colored, hooded tunics, Elerian saw shops which sold ordinary things like swords and armor as well as objects that were quite extraordinary. There were knives that never grew dull and mage lights in all sorts of colors, walking sticks that always found their way home, and any number of other things made with magic and having magical properties. Ascilius offered to buy Elerian anything that caught his fancy, but the only purchase that Elerian made consisted of two small bottles of faceted, cut glass that came with red velvet covers.

Finally, Ascilius took Elerian out onto the slopes of Calidius, for the weather was fine today. The ramp they followed from the fourth level of the city brought them out onto a wide terrace that was covered by green turf shaded by ancient trees. Cutting through the lawn and meandering past the gnarled roots of the trees was a clear stream that raced over small waterfalls before splashing noisily into shallow pools filled with silver trout. Numerous Dwarves were walking about over the neatly cut lawns or sitting on wooden benches under the trees, enjoying the soft evening air.

At the far end of the terrace, a tall tower lit with gold, silver, and green lights rose into the air. Other towers were visible on the slopes around it, their lights making it seem making it seem as if the mountain was studded with precious gems, and the night breeze carried the sound of music and laughter down the slopes. In a comfortable inn that occupied the first floor of the tower, Elerian and Ascilius enjoyed an excellent dinner before retiring to their rooms. Anthea did not appear that night, but Elerian was not overly concerned.

“If she is now riding across the plains, she cannot very well leave her body unattended and at risk in the open,” he comforted himself. To distract his thoughts, he took out the two empty glass containers that he had purchased, filling them with water. Casting the spell for aqua vitae with his right hand, Elerian watched with his third eye as a small golden orb briefly enveloped both bottles. When he closed his magical eye, he saw that the liquid in the bottles now sparkled with a gleaming effervescence that bore witness to the potent state that it had achieved.

“I think that these will do,” thought Elerian to himself as he returned the bottles to their velvet covers. In the morning, one of Eonis’s old retainers called shortly after breakfast.

“You are to follow me to the king’s throne room,” the aged Dwarf informed Ascilius and Elerian. “Herias has returned, bringing the emissary of the Goblins with him against the king’s wishes. At the urging of Herias, Dardanus has agreed to give the messenger an audience so that his words might be disseminated freely to all the people of the city.”

Following behind the steward, Ascilius and Elerian returned to the hall they had first passed through before entering Dardanus’s personal chambers, finding it crowded with Dwarves who had gathered to listen to the Goblin ambassador, their hooded tunics forming a rainbow of colors under the bright lights of the hall.