The Hidden Realm: Book 04 - Ennodius (37 page)

Elerian suddenly laughed aloud, and at the clear sound of his voice, all of the ponies lifted their heads and pricked up their ears. Laternus suddenly felt the fear lifted from his heart.

“He does indeed have a temper,” said Elerian gravely, “but you need not fear him. He would take your words about him for a compliment.”

Still laughing softly, Elerian took himself off to a stall that held two gray ponies, leaving Laternus scratching his head in puzzlement. After making his bed in a corner on a pile of fresh straw, Elerian took a moment to let a little of his power into his master ring. This had become a daily ritual with him, storing power against the day he would need it. Afterward, he entered almost immediately into the world of his memories. The smell of the straw and the rich, warm scent of the ponies called to mind earlier days that he had spent in Balbus’s barn. Once again, he walked with his foster father, reliving memories that were as real as his waking moments.

THE HIDDEN ROAD

When Falco came down to fetch him in the morning, Elerian was already up and helping to feed and brush the ponies in Laternus’s care.

“Ascilius has asked me to bring you to him,” said Falco as he leaned on a stall door, watching Elerian curry a small gray pony. He bore little resemblance to the pleasant Dwarf who had greeted Elerian yesterday. Today, instead of his tunic, he was wearing a steel cap and a shirt of bright chain mail that reached down to his knees. His hair and beard were braided, and he looked every inch a seasoned warrior.

Elerian gave the pony a last stroke with the brush before handing it to Laternus, who was working in the stall next door.

“Goodbye, my friend,” he said to the old Dwarf.

“Thank you for your help,” said Laternus. “If fortune favors us, I will buy you a mug of beer in Galenus in a few days time.”

“I would be honored,” replied Elerian.

Turning away from the old Dwarf, he followed Falco out of the stables and back to the room where he and Ascilius had met with Durio. There, he found Ascilius sitting at the wooden table with his nephew Herias and Durio. Tonare lay under the table near Durio’s feet. Like Falco, all three of the Dwarves were dressed in mail, their hair and beards done up in two thick braids, a sure sign they were going into battle.

“Come in,” said Ascilius when he saw Elerian and Falco appear in the doorway. “Take a bite of breakfast, for there is no telling when we will have time to eat again. I mean to be off at first light.”

Elerian sat on a chair that was a little too low to be comfortable and had a cup of wine and a bit of bread. Falco remained standing, saying that he had already eaten. As he drank his wine, Elerian noted that both Ascilius and Herias were slightly flushed as if they had been arguing.

Herias was the first to break the silence. “For the last time uncle, I beg you to reconsider this rash plan you are undertaking. It can only end in failure.”

Ascilius's eyes glinted with anger. “I do not mean to fail Herias.”

“At least let our people remain here until we have word of your success or failure. That would be the safer course to follow.”

“He says we, not they,” noted Elerian to himself. “Evidently, he intends to remain here with them.”

“It may be too late to leave the fortress by then,” said Ascilius impatiently. “My friend Elerian wounded Eboria with an arrow yesterday. I do not think she will venture out of the city until the wound has healed somewhat. If we move immediately, our people can reach Galenus before she takes to the skies again. The opportunity will be lost once her wound heals, for even the hidden road will not conceal our people from her sharp eyes.”

“We should travel north on foot into the forest then, as Durio has suggested,” replied Herias. “We will have time to distance ourselves from the city before the dragon recovers.”

“Then what?” asked Ascilius “When the dragon finally discovers us, as she surely will, we will be trapped out in the open with no food miles from safety of any kind, for it is a journey of many days to Iulius from here.”

“We could scatter under the trees on foot, eating the ponies to maintain ourselves as we traveled to Iulius,” said Herias coldly, no hint of any warm emotion in his dark eyes.

“Perhaps one in ten would reach Iulius alive,” replied Ascilius sternly.

“Better a few should live than no one at all,” replied Herias sullenly.

“Enough!” shouted Ascilius, suddenly thumping the table with his right fist, causing all three goblets that were set on it to jump and spill half their contents. I have made my decision Herias! If you wish to travel north, go yourself now with all who desire to follow you! Otherwise keep silent and help with the preparations for our departure!”

Herias stared resentfully at Ascilius and then at Elerian.

“You treat this stranger with more respect than your own family,” he said in a hard, flat voice. Rising abruptly from his chair, he stormed out of the room without waiting to hear Ascilius's reply.

Face darkened by anger, Ascilius restrained himself with an effort. Turning to Durio, he asked, “Do you have anything more to say?”

“I have already promised that I will follow you,” replied Durio. “There may be many who will follow Herias, however, if he strikes out on his own. Despite what you think, there is some merit to his plan.”

 “That will be their choice,” said Ascilius brusquely. “Now, let us delay no longer, for the sun is rising and we have far to go. Are the volunteers assembled?” he asked Durio.

“They are waiting for you now in the stables,” replied Durio.

Rising from the table, Ascilius picked up his hammer and shield while Elerian retrieved Acris and his other gear. Leading the way out of the room, Ascilius walked briskly toward the central ramp, followed by Elerian, Falco, and Durio. Tonare stayed by Durio’s side, walking with his curiously springy gate. As he stepped lightly behind Ascilius, Elerian saw Dwarves preparing to leave everywhere he looked. A steady stream of them, silent and subdued, walked down the ramp to the stables where the wagons waited. Evidently, no one had elected to stay in the fortress.

“Will they go with Ascilius or Herias?” wondered Elerian to himself as he followed Ascilius through the throng,

Whenever they caught sight of Ascilius and Elerian, the Dwarves fell silent and stared, for word that the king had returned had spread through the fortress. Dressed in his mail shirt with his great hammer clenched in his powerful right hand, Ascilius looked a stern, formidable leader. Beside Ascilius's sturdy frame, Elerian looked like a tall, young sapling, but a light gleamed in his gray eyes and few could stare into them for long without turning their heads away.

 Ascilius's face remained impassive, looking neither right nor left as he passed through his people. Despite his words to Herias, Elerian knew the thought of failure still weighed heavily on Ascilius although he would not admit to it.

When they reached the stables, the peace and quiet Elerian had awakened to was gone. Teams of ponies were being hitched to the wagons, and the young, the old, and those unable to walk were being loaded aboard. Small Dwarf children were running everywhere in their bright hooded tunics, adding to the confusion. Unlike their parents, they were happy to be leaving the gloomy castella and their high, glad voices filled the air.

“It does not appear that anyone is following Herias,” thought Elerian to himself as he examined the Dwarf wagons. Six feet wide and ten feet long, they were supported by spoked wooden wheels shod with iron rims that raised the wagon beds two feet off the ground. Brass lanterns hung at each corner of the wagon beds, which were enclosed and roofed with thick wooden panels painted in brown or green, forming stout enclosures. On the sides were wide, hinged panels which could be raised to allow the Dwarves inside to shoot crossbow bolts. Only two ponies pulled each wagon, for the little animals, like their masters, were uncommonly strong.

Gathered against the north wall of the stables, Ascilius and Elerian found the small force Ascilius had requested already waiting. They were all broad, strong Dwarves, each dressed in chain mail down to his knees, brown leather pants, and heavy leather boots. On their heads, they had round steel caps with steel nosepieces. Small, round shields were strapped to the brown, leather knapsacks they carried on their backs. Each Dwarf also carried a small steel crossbow strapped to his pack, and all of them carried war hammers or double bladed axes in their hands. Long knives for close fighting were thrust into their belts. A few, striped dogs resembling Tonare sat among them. With their great spiked collars and mailed shirts, they were a formidable sight. Elerian was not surprised when Falco was warmly greeted as he stepped into the ranks of the volunteers, for the young Dwarf seemed well liked by everyone.

It was hard to judge the age of the volunteers, but Elerian was fairly certain that most were well past their youth as evidenced by the streaks of gray many of them had in their braided hair and beards. All of the Dwarves had faces hard and impassive as granite, their dark eyes burning with fierce lights. They had been trapped behind the walls of the fortress for a long time without hope of escape. Now that they had a leader who was willing to act, they were eager to follow.

Ascilius tuned to Durio.

“Wait until noon. Then follow with all the speed you can muster. Do not travel at night for any reason. Listen well to Hirrus. He knows the secret of the hidden road and will explain it to you.”

“Your orders will be carried out,” said Durio in his deep voice. “If fortune favors us we will meet in Galenus in two days time.”

Ascilius next turned to Elerian. “Are you ready my friend? This will be a race against time with a stiff fight at the end of it.” 

“What more could I ask for?” asked Elerian dryly, his gray eyes shining in the mage lights that lit the stables. “Let us go then. I am anxious to match my sword against your hammer. We will judge which is the better weapon by the number of Goblins it slays.” 

“That will be my hammer without a doubt,” said Ascilius confidently.

Casting aside all his doubts, he opened a pair of hidden doors in the wall behind the company of Dwarves, which few had known were there, for they were built in secret long ago. When the doors swung open, they revealed a dark tunnel, ten feet wide and high, more than large enough to admit one of the Dwarf wagons.

Ascilius blew powerfully on the silver mouthpiece of a small ox horn that hung on a strap around his neck. A deep note, mellow but powerful, echoed throughout the stables. The ponies whinnied and stamped in reply. Everywhere, Dwarves stopped what they were doing and looked up as Ascilius and his company of volunteers left the stables. Hope and pride stirred in their hearts at the sight of them. Hardy and warlike they looked as they tramped out of sight.

After he entered the dark tunnel, Ascilius lit a small mage light which kept pace with him, staying exactly the same distance above his head. With Elerian at his right shoulder, he led his company of Dwarves, walking three abreast, down the passageway, which inclined gradually upward straight as a ruler. Behind him he heard the steady tramp of hundreds of leather boots on the stone floor of the tunnel.

Elerian guessed that they had run almost a quarter of a mile before they came to a blank stone wall. At Ascilius’s word of command, a set of double doors was briefly outlined by a silver line of argentum.

Ascilius glanced at Elerian who, sword and shield held ready for combat, waited expectantly at his side.

“Another door, another adventure, my friend,” he said softly. “What awaits us on the other side I wonder?”

“There is only one way to find out,” replied Elerian lightly, his fearless gray eyes gleaming softly in the dim rays of Ascilius’s mage light.

Cautiously, Ascilius pushed with his right hand on the right hand door, which swung open easily on silent hinges.