The Hidden Realm: Book 04 - Ennodius (14 page)

Because the Catalus did not follow a straight course north, meandering across the plains first to the left and then to the right, the two adventurers sometimes neared the banks of the river and at other times approached the western edge of the willow wood. Whenever he was able to look through the trees on their left, Elerian saw miles of open meadows fenced in by a wall of forested foothills and mountains in the distance.

“I am surprised the Goblins have not tried to cross into the plains from here,” he said to Ascilius. “There is no one to hold the way against them.”

“In the past, my people guarded the mountains,” said the Dwarf shortly. “Now, fear of the dragon no doubt keeps the Goblins away.”

They did not stop for a noon meal, for Ascilius was anxious to cover as many miles as possible before nightfall. When the evening shadows began to lengthen, the river began to narrow and deepen, the banks on either side rising to form a gentle slope. When they came to a lengthy stretch of shallow rapids, Ascilius abruptly reined in his mare and turned to Elerian.

“We should cross the river now, at this ford,” he said rather gruffly, for he still had not forgiven Elerian for his last prank. “The farther north we go after this, the harder it will be to find a good ford.”

There was still no sign of any pursuit, so Elerian readily agreed to the crossing. In single file, with Ascilius’s mare in the lead, they rode their horses through the fast water. Once they were safely across, they continued to ride north in silence, Elerian keeping a careful eye on their back trail.

THE DRAGON

When the sun began to sink behind the peaks to the west in a blaze of red and orange, Elerian and Ascilius began to look for a place where they might spend the night, but the open willow wood they were traveling through seemed devoid of any good hiding places. To add to their troubles, the land on both sides of the Catalus began to slope ever more steeply down to the river, making riding difficult. Eventually, the two companions were forced to leave the river behind, ascending the steep slope on their right. At the top of the incline, they found level ground where the riding was easier. Oak and ash trees began to appear among the willows, for they were drawing nearer to the mountains on their left. They had not ridden far before they came to a place where old age or some great storm had toppled an enormous oak. The forest giant lay directly across their path. Overhead, a huge hole had been torn in the forest canopy, exposing the darkening sky.

“This might be a good place to spend the night,” said Elerian to Ascilius when the Dwarf reined in his mare before the obstacle. “We can take shelter on the far side of this fallen tree. If any danger approaches from the south, Enias and the mare will warn us.”

“Let us see what lies on the far side first,” said Ascilius, urging his mare to the right, for the enormous crown of the fallen giant formed an impenetrable barrier right up to the edge of the steep slope on their left.

The mare daintily walked along the length of the tree, skirting the barrier of earth and roots that rose up like a wall at the end of the tree trunk. A deep, ragged pit, formed by the tree’s roots when they were ripped out of the floor of the wood, was now visible. To the right of the pit lay the open plains. When the two companions rode to the right, around the margin of the cavity, they were forced to ride out of the wood.

The sun was still not fully set in the west, leaving the sky overhead a deep blue-black. The stars were still faint pinpricks of light, pale shadows of what they would be when the sky darkened fully. Ascilius kept his head down, intent on riding his mare under cover again as quickly as possible, but Elerian silently asked Enias to stop halfway around the hollow so that he could look out over the dusky plain.

 “Perhaps Torquatus has given up searching for us,” thought Elerian hopefully to himself. North, south, and east his keen gaze detected only empty pastures, covered by grass stirring restlessly like dark waves before the night breeze.

At the far side of the pit, Ascilius had reined in his mare just inside the trees. When Elerian looked his way, the Dwarf signaled impatiently with his right arm for Elerian to follow him. Elerian was about to urge Enias around the hole when a bright pinprick of light high in the sky to the north suddenly caught his eye. He stared at it perplexed, for it was shooting across the heavens toward him like a comet, growing larger by the moment. Fascinated, Elerian watched as the speck became larger and larger, approaching with startling speed. Despite the gathering darkness, his farsighted eyes could now make out some of the details of the approaching shape. With a start, Elerian suddenly realized that he was looking at a live creature.

He could see now that it sped through the sky on vast ribbed wings, the small, overlapping green scales that covered its body reflecting the dying sunlight with glints of gold along their edges. A long tail with a triangular tip streamed out behind it in the wind of its passage, and as it flew, the creature twisted its long, sinuous neck back and forth, scanning the land beneath it with its long, narrow horned head.

“The dragon!” thought Elerian to himself. “And here I sit like a gaping fool.”

He knew that he ought to warn Ascilius, but he remained silent, eyes drinking in the splendor of the wondrous creature that was drawing closer with each wing beat. He had seen a young dragon during his escape from Nefandus, but it shrank to insignificance in his mind when compared to the enormous wyrm fast approaching him, its glittering beauty exerting a peculiar fascination over him that made it difficult to do think or move. Suddenly, the dragon emitted a low bass roar that broke over the plains like thunder, seeming to make the earth tremble.

 Elerian heard Ascilius’s mare scream in terror. Because of the trees around them, neither the Dwarf nor the mare had seen the dragon approaching. Panicked by the wyrm’s unexpected roar, Ascilius mount instinctively sought out the safety of the open plains where she could make the best use of her speed. She burst out of the wood, thundering south across the darkening plain, away from the approaching menace in the skies, her dark hide already flecked with sweat and her large eyes dark with terror. Still unable to move, Elerian watched helplessly as she ran by Enias, her reins dragging free, for Ascilius, bouncing wildly on her back as he tried desperately to keep his seat, was hanging on to her saddle with both hands.

Abruptly, the Dwarf lost his grip on the saddle. His feet slipped out of his stirrups, and he flew high into the air before falling heavily to the ground on the mare’s left where he lay without moving. The frightened mare continued to run flat out, leaving the crumpled form of Ascilius behind. Still held in the grip of some strange enthrallment, Elerian watched as the dragon, now high in the sky above the fleeing mare, stooped like an enormous falcon. Dropping down through the air in a steep, swift dive, it struck Ascilius’ hapless steed with the bony knuckles of its clenched feet as it flew low over the mare’s back. The impact knocked the mare off her feet, sending her rolling across the ground. Screaming frantically, she flailed her feet, struggling to stand up again as the dragon, beating the air with its vast pinions, banked in a tight circle before landing nearby. Folding its wings back, it pounced on its helpless prey like a colossal cat. With one bite of its huge jaws and a powerful shake of its head, the dragon broke the mare’s neck. Standing with its front feet planted on the hapless beast’s sleek hide, it raised its head and gave another earth-shaking roar, which was followed by a great gout of flame that shot from its open mouth high into the sky like a red-gold fountain that turned the dragon’s gleaming scales a green-gold color.

Dropping its horned head, the dragon turned and stared directly at Elerian, still sitting astride Enias at the margin of the pit. He saw, then, that the pupils of her enormous eyes were dark vertical slits, like those of a snake; the irises around them a brilliant emerald green. The strange paralysis that had gripped him when he first saw the beast intensified as Elerian stared into the dragon’s luminous eyes, which seemed to grow and merge until he felt as if he were drowning in an enormous green pool. The creature could have taken him then, for he was unable to move, but the scent of fresh meat called to it irresistibly. Ignoring Elerian and Enias for the moment, the dragon stooped its head to feed on one of the mare’s hindquarters.

Once the dragon looked away from him, Elerian was able to shake off the odd languor that had overcome him. He saw that Ascilius was still lying in a crumpled heap barely thirty feet away, apparently lifeless. An overwhelming impulse to ride away on Enias, as fast and as far as possible from the scaled monster noisily devouring Ascilius’s mare, gripped Elerian

“The Dwarf is dead. Leave him and save yourself,” whispered a panicked voice in his mind.

“I cannot leave him until I am sure he is dead,” Elerian silently insisted to himself, firmly quelling the urge to run.

Keeping a wary eye on the dragon, he wordlessly urged Enias forward. Nervous tremors ran through the stallion, as if a cold, wintry wind blew over his sleek gray hide, but he did not hesitate. Mastering his fear, he walked slowly toward the fallen Dwarf, his neat hooves making no noise on the thick turf. Each step Enias took was a test of his courage, for it brought him closer to the dragon, which was making low, rumbling sounds of pleasure as it noisily tore huge chunks of flesh from the carcass of the mare.

After an eternity, the stallion reached Ascilius, standing with quivering muscles to the left of the Dwarf. Leaning far to his right, Elerian cautiously and slowly pulled Ascilius’s limp form up onto Enias’s shoulders. The Dwarf lay, without moving, face down across Enias’s withers, but his back rose and fell regularly, indicating that he was still alive.

The dragon was now barely a hundred feet away. Suddenly, it raised its head to stare Elerian again. Its eyes glittered like green lamps in the thickening dark, but Elerian avoided looking into them this time. He remained motionless, afraid even to take a deep breath. Beneath him, he could feel Enias shivering.

“Our lives hang by a thread,” he thought to himself. If their proximity to the dragon overcame the lure of fresh meat, even Enias’s great speed would not suffice to carry them to safety in time.

The dragon shifted her right paw, her muscles tensing beneath her sleek hide like steel cables as she prepared to spring on the prey that had so obligingly approached her. Searching desperately with his eyes for something which might distract the beast, Elerian’s gaze happened on the sacks containing Ascilius’s winnings.

“Dragons love gold,” he thought hopefully to himself.

Aiming carefully, Elerian flexed the fingers of his left hand, watching anxiously with his third eye as a tiny orb of golden light flew through the air toward the leather lashings holding Ascilius’s two sacks of gold and silver coins firmly to his saddle. His aim was good, for the parting spell cut the leather straps cleanly in two. The sacks fell to the ground, the chink of metal on metal ringing out clearly in the still air as the coins in the sacks clinked against each other.

With frightening speed, the dragon whipped her head around to the right, lowering her great head and eagerly sniffing at the two sacks with nostrils that suddenly glowed orange. With her enormous left paw, she picked up both sacks. Bouncing them lightly to gage their weight, she listened with obvious pleasure to the jingle of the coins inside them.

Fighting the desire to hurry, Elerian turned Enias around and urged the stallion toward the cover of the trees at a slow walk. It took all his will power not to look over his shoulder. At any moment, he expected to feel the bite of enormous teeth and talons, but the attack never came. Once Enias entered the wood on the far side of the pit, Elerian looked slowly back over his left shoulder. The dragon had raised her head again and was looking intently in his direction. Elerian dropped his eyes slightly and silently told Enias to stop. The stallion was still trembling with nervous tension, but he obeyed Elerian instantly.

Had they attempted to run, Elerian was certain that the dragon would have attacked them. Standing quietly under the trees, however, they did nothing to rouse its predatory instincts. After a moment of indecision, the dragon carefully set aside the money sacks that it still held in its right paw. Obviously loathe to abandon both her meal and her newfound treasure; she began tearing at the flesh of the mare again with her great jaws, the ripping, crunching noises she made coming clearly to Elerian’s ears through the still air.

 Ascilius now began to stir, groaning softly. The fall had both stunned him and driven the breath out of his lungs, but he was otherwise unhurt. He raised his head, looking past Elerian’s left knee to watch the feeding dragon for a moment.

“Keep moving,” he whispered softly to Elerian. “Eboria is sure to pursue us when she has satisfied her hunger.”

Elerian urged Enias deeper into the trees before turning north again.

“Let me get down,” said Ascilius after a moment. “I have got my breath back again.”

When Enias stopped, the Dwarf slipped down off of his shoulders. Elerian leaped lightly down to the ground next to him. In single file, with Ascilius leading the way and Enias bringing up the rear, they continued north through the wood, moving as silently as possible.

“It must have been the dragon which frightened off the canigrae last night,” thought Elerian to himself as he walked behind Ascilius. “I hope it ate the Goblins and all their hounds.”

Looking behind him at Enias’s sculpted head; Elerian saw that the stallion appeared relaxed again. Deciding that it was safe to talk, he asked Ascilius a question. “Ascilius, how do you know the dragon’s name?” he said softly.

The Dwarf did not turn his head or slow his pace, but the narrow escape from the dragon seemed to have cured his bad temper, for he replied readily to Elerian’s query.

“Dragons never reveal their true name, Elerian, but Dwarves have given their own names to the greatest among them,” he said quietly. In a deep voice, he began to recite: “Eboria, green as the sea; Rufius, red as fire; Nigrum, black as night. These are the oldest and most powerful dragons that are known to the Dwarves. There may be more, but no one knows for certain, for when they are not troubling the world, dragons make their homes in the high peaks of the Tertulus to the north of the Tarsian plains.

“At present, Nigrum and Cyaneus hold two of our cities in the far North, sleeping on beds made of the treasure they stole from us long ago. Eboria has not been seen in almost as long. It was my hope that she might be dead.”

“They are unlike any other creature I have seen before,” observed Elerian. “They have six limbs like a lentulus whereas most of the creatures of the Middle Realm have only four.”

“There is much that you have not seen yet in the Middle Realm,” Ascilius assured Elerian, “for you are young even as Men measure age, but you are right to say dragons are different. Some say they came out of the Dark Years, during the first age. Others think they came from Outside through a gate that was opened by chance or by one of the great mages. Wherever they came from, they are a plague on the Dwarf race, and I wish all of them would disappear forever,” Ascilius concluded angrily.