The Hidden Realm: Book 04 - Ennodius (9 page)

By now, Enias had drawn even with Ascilius’s mare which was racing northwest, away from the cromlech.

“Slow down or you will founder her,” Elerian advised the Dwarf as he reached out and grasped the mare’s bridle with his left hand, slowing her to an easy canter.

Ascilius cast an uneasy glance over his right shoulder. “Once darkness falls, the lentulus is sure to pursue us,” he said worriedly. “If it takes to the air, it will quickly catch up with us.”

“I think not,” Elerian reassured him. “That creature was too large to be a lentulus. I also have a feeling that it does not travel far from its abode, preferring to lure its prey instead with magic.”

“Even if you are right about the creature lurking in that tunnel, it would still be prudent to distance ourselves from that place,” insisted Ascilius. He suddenly gave Elerian a cheerful look. “I did give you quite a start back there, you know.”

“Indeed you did,” agreed Elerian with a smile as he called his ring back to his hand. They all vanished once more beneath its protective cloak of invisibility.

“I see you have become quite a rider,” said Elerian innocently after a moment. “I had no idea you could leap onto a horse like that.”

Ascilius turned and gave Elerian a suspicious look, but of course, his companion was now invisible.

“Drat him, he is laughing at me again,” he thought to himself, recalling uncomfortably how he had sprinted across the cromlech.

“With practice, a Dwarf can accomplish any goal,” said Ascilius haughtily.

There was no reply from Elerian, but Ascilius thought he heard the sound of soft laughter behind him.

THE CATALUS

Ascilius and Elerian continued to ride northwest after leaving the cromlech behind. By early evening, they reached the east bank of the Catalus without incident.

“We had best ride under cover from now on,” said Ascilius over his shoulder to Elerian as he guided his mare into the willows lining the river's eastern bank. “I am sure that even the lions have deserted this dangerous country,” he assured Elerian as he turned his mount to his right, following the river north. Enias followed close behind.

Now that they were under cover, Elerian felt safe in sending away his silver ring, ending the invisibility spell that he had used to conceal himself, Ascilius, and their horses. He felt a welcome sense of relief when his ring vanished from his hand, sent back to the place where he kept his spell book, for this was the third day that he had used it. Whenever it was on his finger now, he could feel his power slowly draining out of him, like water trickling out through a hole in a bucket. Even with the ring gone, he still felt an irksome weariness that his brief period of sleep last night had done nothing to dispel.

“How much longer can I keep this up without doing some sort of harm to myself?” wondered Elerian to himself. “The ring consumes far too much power keeping the horses, as well as myself and Ascilius, out of sight.”

“How long can we remain under the trees?” he asked Ascilius.

“If we follow the Catalus, we need not emerge into the open again until we reach Ennodius,” replied Ascilius without turning his head. “We had best travel only during the day, however. If the dragon decides to hunt at night, it may see our shades with her third eye unless we are well hidden.

“The Goblins may also be abroad at night,” Elerian reminded Ascilius as he scrutinized the open plains to their right through gaps in the trees. “I fear them more than the dragon now that Torquatus knows that we are traveling to Ennodius.”

“I would be surprised if Torquatus pursues us much farther north,” replied Ascilius. “His servants will be in as much danger as we are, for a dragon will eat a Goblin as readily as a Dwarf or an Elf.”

Side by side, in companionable silence, they continued on through the narrow belt of trees growing alongside the river, the slender willow leaves whispering and tossing above their heads, kept in motion by the constant wind that blew across the plains. On their right the rolling, empty pastures of Tarsius continued on, but across the river, to the west, the plains abruptly gave way to uneven, heavily forested foothills. Beyond the foothills rose a dark wall of high, jagged mountains.

Elerian saw many small birds busily darting among the tree limbs overhead, but he saw no four footed creatures larger than a hare on the ground. As Ascilius had surmised, the larger animals all seemed to have fled this dangerous country. He listened intently, but aside from the liquid calls of the birds and the rustling of the long willow leaves overhead, the only sounds he heard were the light footfalls of Ascilius's black mare. Enias made no sound with his trim hooves that even Elerian could hear.

To Elerian’s left, lulled by the peacefulness of the wood, Ascilius gradually ceased to pay attention to his surroundings, becoming instead totally occupied with his own thoughts. He was amazed to find himself and Elerian still alive this far into the dragon’s hunting grounds, and for the first time, he felt that they might actually reach Ennodius. As he considered the ways in which he and Elerian might enter the city without being discovered by the dragon, he ceased to pay attention to Elerian, which was never a good idea.

Elerian had already carefully positioned Enias a little behind Ascilius’s mare. Now that he knew the chief source of Ascilius’s dark mood was concern for his own safety, he felt that he could resume his favorite activity of Dwarf baiting with a clear conscience.

 “It is almost my duty to distract the poor fellow from his worries,” thought Elerian to himself as he watched Ascilius with the patient, crafty eyes of a hunter. His gray eyes gleamed with anticipation when he saw that the Dwarf was now deeply immersed in thought and oblivious to his surroundings. A little at a time, he edged Enias closer to Ascilius’s mare until they were almost side-by-side.

Leaning gradually to his left, Elerian suddenly said abruptly and rather loudly into Ascilius’s right ear, “I am going hunting for our dinner, Ascilius.”

At the sudden noise, Ascilius, whose nerves were rather frayed by this time, almost leaped out of his saddle. His mare entered into the spirit of Elerian’s prank by pretending to shy to her left, snorting and prancing on her neat hooves.

“Got him again,” thought Elerian to himself, experiencing the same pleasure as a huntsman after a successful stalk as he watched Ascilius grab wildly at his saddle in order to retain his seat.

“Confound you Elerian, must you sneak up on me like that?” shouted Ascilius wrathfully as he regained his seat his seat with difficulty.

“Sorry. I did not mean to frighten you,” said Elerian innocently.

“I was not frightened,” said Ascilius irately. “You only startled me, for I was deep in thought,” he said haughtily. “You should know by now that Dwarves are brave as lions and possess lightning fast reflexes.”

 “Those lightening reflexes certainly served you well that time you and Dacien ran from the water horse in the cavern beneath Calenus,” said Elerian, his eyes gleaming wickedly. “I had all I could do to keep up with you.”

Elerian laughed silently to himself as Ascilius began to sputter incoherently.

“Keep under the trees,” he said cheerfully before the Dwarf could recover his power of speech.

Still laughing, Elerian rode to his right, leaving Ascilius behind. After taking his bow from its hard leather case which rode on his pack, he dismounted at the edge of the thin belt of trees growing alongside the river. His bow was of the short, recurved variety favored by the Tarsi, made of alternate layers of horn and wood glued together. Bracing one end on the front of his left ankle, Elerian bent the bow around the back of his right leg, stringing it in one quick move. After fastening his quiver of black feathered arrows to his broad leather belt, Elerian leaped lightly on to Enias’s sleek back. Calling his ring to his left hand, he watched with his third eye as a flow of golden light spilled from the silver band, rendering him and Enias invisible.

Secure under the cloak of invisibility produced by his ring, Elerian rode Enias out into the knee high, verdant grass of the open plain, turning north after several hundred yards so that he might continue to follow the river. Under the trees, Ascilius was also riding north, plotting his revenge against Elerian in irritated silence.

Before long, a flock of gallinae thundered out of hiding in front of Elerian. In the blink of an eye, he sped two shafts after the heavy birds, one after another. As the arrows found their mark, two of the grass hens tumbled out of the sky, landing heavily within a few feet of each other. Keen as any hound on the scent, Enias quickly located both birds, stopping where they had vanished into the tall grass. Keeping his seat with his legs and left arm, Elerian leaned far to his right, retrieving the birds in a single, supple move by grasping the feathered arrow ends with his right hand. The gallinae immediately vanished from sight as they came under the influence of his ring.

Holding the grass hens in his right hand, Elerian turned Enias toward the river once more, the stallion sprinting across the short distance that separated them from the trees. Once they were under cover of the willow leaves again, Elerian sent away his ring before searching among the trees for Ascilius. He saw the Dwarf almost immediately to the south, his mare traveling at a deliberate pace between the coarse barked willow trunks. When Ascilius reached Elerian’s side, his annoyance at his capricious companion vanished when he saw the plump grass hens.

“We may as well begin searching for a place where we can eat and spend the night,” he said, his voice full of anticipation at the prospect of a warm meal.

Before long, the two companions found a protected place in a bend of the river where the canopy overhead became especially thick and the willow trunks drew closer together, their crooked, twisting roots snaking through the thick grass underfoot. While Elerian cleaned the birds he had brought down, Ascilius made a shallow hole in the center of the grove they had picked as their resting place by removing a piece of turf with his knife. Raising his right hand, Ascilius kindled a small, smokeless red mage fire in the hole, keeping firm control of the flames so that they would not spread and consume everything in sight. After satisfying himself that the fire’s ruddy light would not show through the canopy overhead, Ascilius waited for Elerian to bring the birds he had shot.

By now, Elerian had already spitted both birds on a green willow stick. After planting a forked branch in the ground on both sides of the flickering mage fire, he suspended the grass hens over the flames by setting the ends of the spit in the two forks.

“Time for you to do your share of the work,” he said cheerfully to Ascilius.

“Volvi,” commanded Ascilius, briefly raising his right hand.

The birds and the spit began to rotate slowly over the fire while Ascilius, a smug expression on his face, sat at his ease on the ground with his back against a willow trunk. Clasping both his powerful hands behind his head, he extended his legs out comfortably.

“Of course, you know this revolving spell,” he said, glancing slyly at Elerian from beneath his bushy eyebrows. “Ah! I see that you do not,” he said when Elerian remained silent. “If, in the future, you demonstrate the proper respect for the noble Dwarf race, perhaps I will teach it to you some day,” he said magnanimously, knowing full well that Elerian would not rest until he had added the new charm to his spell book.

“I would feel better if you were turning the spit by hand,” said Elerian, trying to conceal his interest in Ascilius’s new spell. “Do not fall asleep, or you will burn our dinner,” he admonished the Dwarf, for Ascilius looked far too comfortable to stay awake.

“Attend to your own affairs,” said Ascilius waving him away. “Our dinner is in capable hands.”

Leaving Ascilius to his task, Elerian collected both his water bottle and Ascilius’s before walking down to the nearby river.

“I could alter my own revolving spell easily enough to accomplish the same purpose as that of Ascilius,” thought Elerian to himself, “but why bother. I will have his spell and amuse myself in the bargain before darkness falls,” he promised himself as he knelt on the thick turf growing on the riverbank. Thrusting both water bottles beneath the gleaming surface of the Catalus with his right hand, he filled them with cold, clear water. After raising the dripping containers into the air, he cast a transformation spell over his own bottle, changing the water it contained into a rich, dark beer. Returning to the fire, he sat down next to Ascilius before passing him his water bottle. The two grass hens slowly revolving over the red mage fire had already turned an even brown, and the warm, savory scent of roasting meat filled the air.

“Water,” said Ascilius distastefully as he took the full bottle from Elerian’s hand. Setting it aside, he took his wineskin from his pack. A look of disappointment crossed his face when he found it flaccid and empty. “I do not remember mounting such a fierce assault on its contents,” he muttered to himself as he tossed the vacant container aside.

“There is nothing wrong with drinking water,” said Elerian talking a long swallow from his own bottle. A pleased smile spread across his face, for the beer he had made was cool and crisp on his tongue.

Ascilius stared at his companion suspiciously, for Elerian looked far too content to be drinking ordinary water. Wary as a trap shy fox, he uncapped his own water bottle, sniffing at its contents warily before taking a drink. He frowned when his tongue told him that the container was filled with plain water.

“What have you got in your bottle?” he demanded of Elerian. “Water never brought such a satisfied look to your face.”

“I have beer in mine,” replied Elerian, favoring Ascilius with his most innocent look.

“The trap is baited,” he thought happily to himself as a frown darkened Ascilius blunt features. “Let us see if the old fox takes the lure again.”

Ascilius stared thirstily at Elerian’s bottle. “He is up to his old tricks, but this time, I will not give in,” he thought determinedly to himself. “After all, it is only beer.”

Elerian took another deep swallow, a look of great contentment on his face. A piteous look suddenly replaced the frown on Ascilius’s face, and he suddenly groaned out loud.

“Stop!” he shouted. “Give me some of that beer, and I will give you the dratted spell, you fiend. If you ever decide to give up the life of an honest adventurer, you should apply to Torquatus for the role of torturer in one of his dungeons,” he said wrathfully.

“Sticks and stones,” replied Elerian as he casually extended his right hand, extinguishing Ascilius’s mage fire which was on the point of ruining their dinner now that the beer had most of the Dwarf’s attention. Pointing the same hand at Ascilius’s water bottle, he cast a transformation spell, watching with his third eye as a small orb of golden light flew from his fingertips. Striking the water bottle full on, it briefly enveloped it in a golden haze.

“Try your water now,” said Elerian with a smile.

Ascilius sniffed his bottle, which now gave off the sharp, glorious smell of dark beer, but distrustful of Elerian and his penchant for humor, he did not drink from it immediately.