The Dwarf Kingdoms (Book 5) (14 page)

BOOK: The Dwarf Kingdoms (Book 5)
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Looking at Eonis, Elerian saw no sign of either interest or sympathy on his craggy features as Ascilius finished his sparse account.

“You say you have led your people here, Ascilius, but I do not see your family,” he said in a wintry voice. “Why have they not come to sit with us?” 

“They were all slain by Eboria or her offspring,” replied Ascilius grimly. His face was drawn into lines of grief, but no change came over Eonis’s stern face at the saw news.

“He knew the answer before asking the question,” thought Elerian to himself, casting another sidelong glance at Herias. The Dwarf’s dark eyes, hard as agates, had a satisfied look in them.

“A sad loss,” said Eonis coldly to Ascilius, “especially when you consider that your family might still be alive and your city unharmed had you given up your irresponsible wandering as your father and I often urged you to do.”Elerian stirred in his seat at the unfairness of Eonis’s words, but held his tongue.

“A king will say and do whatever he wishes in his own house,” he reminded himself. He glanced at Ascilius and saw guilt mingled with the sadness on his face. In his dark eyes, however, was the first hint of anger, like a smoldering coal beneath the grey ashes of a fire.

“I will carry my guilt the rest of my life, uncle,” he said quietly. “There is no need to harp on it now. I have done what I can to atone for my absence by bringing my people here to safety.”

“You have only given them a temporary reprieve, nephew, and worsened my own situation,” said Eonis witheringly. “The stores that remain in the city will be used up that much more quickly now, making our situation even more desperate.”

“If there is no welcome for us here then I will take my people to Iulius,” said Ascilius, anger giving his voice a hard edge.

“You do not know then,” said Eonis in a mocking voice. “The Goblin army is far more numerous than you suppose. Before laying siege to the city, their leader secretly sent a goodly portion of his forces north. They have entrenched themselves behind a great earthen dike which they have raised before the back gate of my city. A frontal assault by all my forces would not be enough to dislodge them. They are also numerous enough to repel any force Dardanus might send against them. We are trapped here, faced with the prospect of either surrendering or starving to death when our food stocks run out,” concluded Eonis in a grim voice.

Listening to the old king, Elerian felt his heart sink as his hopes of returning to Anthea were dashed once more.

“Your words, uncle, have taken away all the comfort that I garnered from bringing my people here,” replied Ascilius in a somber voice. “Still, there must be some way past the Goblin forces guarding the back gate. What of the hidden door I built? Is it still undiscovered?”

“The door remains a secret, but it does us no good,” said Eonis dismissively. “It is too close to the back gate. We cannot assemble a force in front of it without being seen, for the Goblins have cleared all the slopes on both sides of their fortification, and they keep a ceaseless watch from the top of their dike. You should have made the tunnel leading to the door longer,” he added reprovingly.

“I made the best use I could of the Dwarves and gold that you allowed me, uncle,” said Ascilius mildly. “As I recall, you did not want to build an escape tunnel at all.”

“It seemed such a waste of time and coin,” said Eonis almost to himself. “Still what is done cannot be undone.”

“I agree,” said Ascilius firmly. “We must work with what we have and not what we wish we had. How many warriors can you muster?” he asked of his uncle, a thoughtful look in his eyes.   

Eonis deliberated for a moment before answering. “I have four thousand Dwarves who can still bear arms.

“I can add a thousand warriors to the total,” said Ascilius. “A force of that size might be able to overcome the Goblins who guard the back gate if it took control of their dike first.”

“It cannot be done,” said Eonis impatiently. “As I said before, anyone who emerges from the secret door would be seen at once by the Goblin sentries. The numerous Goblins and mutare stationed at the top of the dike would gain control of the entryway before we could even begin to assemble a force to attack the dike.”

“Perhaps Elerian can add an element of surprise to the assault,” replied Ascilius, casting a hopeful look at Elerian. “He has powers not seen in this age of the world since the passing of Dymiter.”

“Even if he were Dymiter himself, I would not risk a foray at this time,” said Eonis dismissively. “Old age does not look kindly on risk and uncertainty, nephew. Our food stores are low but we are not starving yet, and the gates have held against the enemy for months now. I see no reason, at this time, to risk losing the last secret we hold over the enemy. If the Goblins discover the hidden door, we will have lost our last way out of the city. Until I decide differently, you and your people will remain here in Galenus. Gavros will assume command of your warriors. You will do nothing without seeking his approval first.”

Ascilius's face darkened at Eonis’s words. “You demonstrate a lack of trust in me that is uncalled-for uncle,” he said angrily.

“My lack of confidence in you is more than justified, Ascilius,” said Eonis, raising his voice and rising out of his chair. “You have never shown any common sense or dependability. Instead, you traveled about and indulged yourself while your brother stayed home like a dutiful Dwarf and managed the affairs of Ennodius. You now seek to puff yourself up in my eyes with your exploits, but I know that disaster would have befallen you in the castella had Durio not come to your rescue. You left home a reckless fool and have returned unchanged!”

Ascilius turned pale at his uncle’s insults. As he and Eonis glared at each other with their dark eyes gleaming with anger, Elerian struggled once more to hold his tongue.

“Herias has been at work here, stirring up Eonis’s animosity toward Ascilius with half truths,” he thought angrily to himself. “Durio would have rescued no one if Ascilius had not had the courage to first bring his people out of Ennodius.”

Abruptly, Ascilius stood up. Grim faced, his back stiff with anger, he stalked out of the room without uttering another word, followed closely by Elerian.

 

A PRANK

 

 “A plague on stiff necked Dwarves,” thought Elerian wryly to himself as he followed his companion. “If Ascilius and his uncle continue to argue he and I may find ourselves locked in some dungeon far beneath the city before long.” A hard gleam suddenly lit his gray eyes. “That being the case, I might as well have a bit of fun with the old fellow while I can. It will serve him right for the way that he treated Ascilius.”

Turning thought into action, Elerian called his silver ring to his right hand and vanished as soon as he was out of sight of the door wardens. Absorbed in his own anger, Ascilius never noticed that Elerian was no longer behind him as he stamped down the passageway.

Returning to the entryway to Eonis’s sitting room on quick, silent feet, Elerian felt stealthily about in the pockets of the porter on the left side of the door. His long left hand soon emerged bearing a small silver coin and a larger, heavier gold piece. The silver coin Elerian carefully laid on the ground between the two old door wardens. It became visible as soon as it left his fingers, gleaming brightly in the yellow mage lights that lit the passageway. The eyes of both Dwarves fell on the bit of silver at the same moment. With a speed that would have done credit to Dwarves half their age, they pounced upon it and began wrestle with each other for possession of the coin. Neither of them noticed when the door to Eonis’s chambers briefly opened and closed.

When Elerian stepped silently inside the Eonis’s sitting room, he saw that the Dwarf king and Herias were amicably drinking wine.

“These two are thick as thieves,” thought Elerian to himself as he laid the gold coin on the floor between the two Dwarves. It became visible as soon as he removed his fingers, shining with a soft, seductive glow in the light cast by the fire burning merrily in the hearth. Like two hunting dogs that scent game, the two Dwarves both came to attention.

“I say, Ascilius or his odd companion must have dropped a coin,” said Eonis studying the bright metal with rapt eyes.

“His loss is my gain,” replied Herias, setting down his wine glass and leaping out of his seat to retrieve the golden treasure. He took one step and then fell flat on his face as Eonis cunningly thrust his staff between his nephew’s legs.

Cackling with delight, Eonis leapt spryly out of his chair, but when he bent over to retrieve the coin, it skittered across the floor, coming to rest under an ornate plush chair.

“Must have kicked it,” Elerian heard Eonis mutter as he raced to the chair, falling to his knees before it. Reaching blindly beneath it, he closed his hand over the coin. When Eonis pulled his hand out from under the chair, Elerian raised his right hand and cast an illusion spell over the bright coin Eonis held between his thumb and first finger. He saw Eonis’s covetous smile turn to one of horror, for it now appeared to him that he held in his hand, by a jointed foreleg, an enormous, hairy spider with crimson, multi-faceted eyes and green, vile venom dripping from its long fangs.

The Dwarf king’s eyes grew large as saucers and a great shout escaped his bearded lips as he flung his hand backwards. With a wave of his right hand, Elerian guided the coin, which still wore the illusion of a spider, across the room, dropping it squarely in the middle of Herias’s back who, by now, was on all fours.

“Hold still nephew,” shouted Eonis when he saw where the illusory spider had come to rest. “Die foul fiend,” he roared as he leapt to his fet and rushed across the room with his staff upraised. Herias had time for one horrified look before Eonis’s staff thumped solidly across his shoulders, flattening him on to the floor again.

By now, Elerian was shaking with laughter, but he skillfully made his illusion spring back and forth on Herias’s back, avoiding each blow that Eonis rained down on it. Howling in dismay, Herias attempted to escape by crawling under a table set against the far wall of the room, but his legs and backside remained visible. Perching his illusion on Herias’s posterior, Elerian had it rear up and menace Eonis with its jointed front legs.

With the fire of battle burning in his dark eyes, Eonis aimed a tremendous two handed blow blow at the illusory spider, catching Herias solidly in the buttocks and propelling him with a solid clunk, headfirst into the wall behind the table. The coin, still disguised by Elerian’s spider illusion, fell to the floor. With another spell, Elerian lifted it off the floor and had it fly toward Eonis. Thinking himself under attack, the Dwarf king emitted a strangled cry and threw himself flat on the floor before rolling vigorously toward the fireplace in an attempt to escape.

“Time to go,” thought Elerian to himself, snatching up the gold coin just as the door porters flung open the doors and peered fearfully into the room. Placing the coin he had borrowed back into its owner’s pocket, Elerian slipped past the Dwarves into the passageway, but he did not go far, for he was forced to lean against the right hand wall to keep from collapsing from laughter. When he finally stole softly away, both the door porters and Herias were on their hands and knees searching reluctantly under the furniture for both the vanished spider and the gold coin under the watchful eye of the Eonis. Whenever the old king thought their efforts were not industrious enough, he poked them vigorously with his staff to encourage them to greater diligence.

Once was out of sight of the king’s chambers, Elerian sent his ring away. He had just become visible when Ascilius’s appeared in the passageway with a worried look on his face.

“There you are,” he said to Elerian in a relieved voice. “What happened to you?”

“I took my eyes off of you and became lost,” replied Elerian blandly. “I have been waiting here for you to return.”

“Pay closer attention, then,” said Ascilius impatiently, his relief turning to irritation in accordance with his his volatile nature. He turned and stamped away, leading Elerian out of the king’s quarters and into the city, finally ending up before a stairway that spiraled upward through a massive stone column, one of the smaller ramps that allowed foot traffic between the different levels of the city.

After a long walk up the spiraling ramp, Elerian felt fresh air on his face. Not long after that, he followed Ascilius through an exit into bright sunshine. Looking around him, Elerian saw that they were on the highest floor of a tall tower that stood on the north slope of Celsus, the mountain that reared up above Galenus. Around him in the distance, he saw other towers and terraces on the more inaccessible ridges.

Ascilius crossed the to the north side of the flagstone covered terrace, leaning his elbows on one of the notches in the low crenellated wall that ran around the perimeter of the tower. Elerian followed him, stopping by his right side. He remained silent, giving Ascilius the opportunity to speak first.

 “Despite the many years that have passed, nothing has changed,” said Ascilius gloomily. “My uncle always favored my brother Plemin, for he and I never saw eye to eye. I know that, privately, he was one of those who felt that I would come to a bad end. It must be hard for him to accept the fact that Plemin died but I survived.”

“It is not my place to criticize your family,” Ascilius,” said Elerian sympathetically, “but I think that your uncle is being unfair. He ought to have treated you with more respect, for a fool could never have survived the many dangers we have faced since escaping from Nefandus.”

Ascilius immediately felt some of his gloom dissipate at this show of support from Elerian. “He is a true friend grown closer to me than my own blood,” thought Ascilius warmly to himself.

“Your uncle is correct about one thing, however,” continued Elerian slyly. “I quite agree that you are lacking in common sense. I have observed that it is quite a common deficiency in the Dwarf race.”

Ascilius frowned until he caught the gleam of laughter in Elerian’s gray eyes.

“And you are lacking in seriousness as are all of your race,” he replied tartly. “No Elf was ever a fit companion for a sober Dwarf.”

“You are only sober when there are no spirits at hand,” pointed out Elerian dryly.

Ascilius sputtered and then suddenly laughed. “I wish I had some spirits now,” he admitted. “Now that I have had time to think, I must admit that my uncle may be right, however. As long as we have food and the defenses hold up, I suppose it makes sense to sit tight and safe here in the city, at least for a while longer.”

“What if the gates fail?” asked Elerian. “The door into the castella was forced open twice by the Goblins.”

“The gates to the city are stronger and protected by more powerful spells,” replied Ascilius dismissively. “Even the ram that burst open the gates of Calenus could not force them open.”

Elerian made no reply, for he was now examining the landscape to the north. Between two arms of the mountain, he saw the beginnings of a wide valley with a stone road running down its center. He assumed the north gate lay at the head of the valley, but it was screened from his sight by cliffs and ridges. With his farsighted eyes, however, he could clearly see the massive wall of earth and rock the Goblins had constructed across the road. The dike reached from one arm of the mountain to the other. All of the trees which had covered the hills near the ends of the dike had been felled and dragged away, leaving them bare of any cover. Elerian saw the tiny figures of mutare and Goblins lined up across the level summit of the dike, standing behind a palisade formed of thick, outward leaning, pointed stakes twice the height of a man that had been planted along the edge of the dike, facing the back gate of the city. Below the palisade, the steep face of the barrier was reinforced with boulders and smaller stones. A trench, both wide and deep, had been dug in front of the dike to further defend it. On the far side of the barrier an extensive camp of black tents had been pitched on both sides of the road.

“How near is the hidden door to the dike?” Elerian suddenly asked of Ascilius.

“It is near the top of the right hand ridge, almost directly in line with the end of the dike,” replied the Dwarf morosely. “As Eonis said, anyone emerging from the tunnel behind it would be seen at once by the sentries on the dike.”

“Not if they wore a magic ring that made them invisible,” pointed out Elerian. “Once through the door, it would be a simple matter for me to slip over the ridge behind it and into the forest beyond it.”

“You are thinking of abandoning me then,” said Ascilius grumpily.

“I have no choice, Ascilius,” said Elerian regretfully. “If you are certain that your people are safe here, then there is no longer any reason for me to stay. Anthea will not wait patiently in Niveaus while I sit here for months behind the walls of Galenus. I must go to her before she tries to reach me, for that is what she will do if I do not return to her soon.”

“I will go with you, then,” said Ascilius suddenly. “I will travel with you as far as Iulius at least. My uncle Dardanus and I get along very well. With his help, I may be able to come up with a plan to break the blockade on Galenus. At the least, he will loan me the treasure that you need for your wedding. Let us go and make our preparations,” he said in a voice suddenly grown cheerful.

With a vigorous step, Ascilius led the way back to their room in his uncle’s home. There, they found bread, cheese, cold sliced meats, and wine laid out for them on a small table set with two chairs.

“At least my uncle does not mean to starve us to death, “said Ascilius as he attacked the food and wine with gusto. Elerian drank a glass of wine and sampled only a little of the food, for he found that he did not have much appetite.

“I will not rest easy until Anthea and I are reunited once more,” he thought to himself. “Who knows what may happen to her if she takes the road to Iulius alone?”

When their meal was done, Ascilius lay down to rest in one of the beds, for except for his brief nap in the passageway leading to the stables, he had not slept at all the night before. Elerian lay down, too, but he did not sleep, letting his mind drift down the paths of memory instead. He was reliving his time with Anthea when, suddenly, the door to the room burst open, banging loudly into the stone wall to one side of it. As light from the hallway flooded the room, illuminating the distraught features of Falco who stood in the doorway, Elerian leaped to his feet. Behind him, a startled Ascilius also tried to leap out of bed but became entangled in his blankets and promptly fell to the floor. It was a perfect opportunity for a prank, but the look on Falco’s face precluded any mischief.

“The Goblins are attacking the city,” he said urgently. “The outer gate has already been forced open, and I fear that the inner gate will give way soon.”

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