The Hidden Realm: Book 04 - Ennodius (8 page)

THE DOLMEN

After Anthea suddenly vanished before his eyes, Elerian looked around in confusion, bewildered by her sudden disappearance.

“Was she truly there or did I see some dream image born of my desire to see her again?” wondered Elerian to himself. Unsure of the answer, he bent over, carefully searching the place where she had stood. The blades of grass growing there, gray and colorless under the starlight, were neither broken nor bent, giving no indication that Anthea had stood there moments ago.

 “If she was here, then she came in the form of a wraith,” he thought to himself, a feeling of dread lancing through him, for the only other wraiths that he had seen in his life were the shades of the dead. Hastily, Elerian looked at the ring on his left hand with his magical third eye. To his relief, the ruby still pulsed under the golden veil of the illusion which hid it from view.

“She is still alive,” he thought to himself. “Somehow she found a way to bring her shade to my side, although how she found me, I cannot guess. Perhaps Dymiter’s amulet has given her new, unlooked for powers. If that is the case, she will never cease to crow about it,” thought Elerian ruefully to himself as he recalled the mischief in her eyes.

Turning to the south, where Anthea waited for his return, Elerian wished that he could open a portal as Torquatus had done so that he could see her face to face. Sadly, he lacked the power to open a magical door of a useful size and to hold it open. He considered using his crystal orb but quickly discarded the notion of using a device that had proved so unreliable in the past. It was as likely to alert Torquatus to his presence as it was to show him Anthea. Sighing in discontent, he resumed his silent pacing under the trees, starting at every sound and whisper of wind, hopeful that Anthea had returned once more, but she did not appear again that night.

While Elerian kept his uneasy watch, Ascilius slept, but his slumber was restless and disturbed by dark dreams. Eventually, he awoke, remaining motionless beneath his warm blankets. Moving only his eyes, he watched Elerian’s gray and black shape pacing restively under the trees with light steps that made no sound that Ascilius could hear. When Elerian drew closer, Ascilius saw that his features were drawn into a frown of dissatisfaction.

“What has disturbed him I wonder?” Ascilius wondered to himself.

“You should rest,” he said quietly when Elerian walked by him.

The troubled look instantly left Elerian's face as he stopped and smiled down at his companion.

“If you are ready to keep watch, I will attempt to sleep for a bit.”

“I am more than ready, for sleep is not my friend this night,” said Ascilius regretfully. “I feel no more rested than when I first lay down. I may as well keep watch as toss under my blankets all night.”

Throwing aside his covers, Ascilius stood up, stretching to loosen muscles made sore by the unfamiliar act of riding.

“I wish that I could see what the future holds for us,” he said wistfully. “I have felt a sense of doom hanging over us ever since we bade farewell to Orianus,” said the Dwarf unhappily. “I fear that we may never reach Ennodius.”

“You seemed much more confident of success when you were discussing our adventure with Orianus,” Elerian gently reminded him.

“I told you before that it was the drink and my pride speaking,” replied the Dwarf gloomily. “It was easy to feel that we might succeed when the dragon was far away. Now that we are almost in its hunting grounds, I feel certain that the beast will discover us from the heights with her eagle-eyed gaze long before we reach my city. The shield cast by your ring will present no barrier to her third eye.

“We could look into my orb,” suggested Elerian reluctantly. “It might show us where the dragon is now and how we might avoid it. The orb might even show us what is happening in your city.”

“No!” said Ascilius firmly, his voice almost a shout. “On no account will I look into that crystal of ill omens. Who knows what it will show to torment me!”

“Well then, you must hope for the best,” said Elerian, noting with concern the haggard look in Ascilius's eyes. “The dragon has not caught us yet,” he said in a lighter tone.

“You have been a true friend to me, Elerian,” said Ascilius gratefully. “I know it has been a trial for you to be with me these last few days because of the dark mood which has plagued me,” he concluded awkwardly.

“I have hardly noticed any difference, to tell you the truth” said Elerian solemnly, his gray eyes gleaming with laughter.

“You are hopeless,” said Ascilius shaking his head. “Like all of your race, you would joke at your own execution,” he said severely, but his eyes smiled too, and the weight of the worries he carried suddenly became lighter.

Elerian spread his blankets on the ground. After covering himself with his cloak, he closed his eyes, weariness causing him to fall into one of those brief periods of true sleep that were becoming increasingly rare for him. Meanwhile, Ascilius stretched again in an attempt to drive the stiffness from his muscles. When he looked at the river flowing on his right, he saw white mists rising from its dark, gleaming surface. Shivering from the damp night air, Ascilius took his hooded cloak, made of heavy wool and dyed a woodland green, from his bed. Draping it over his broad shoulders and pulling the hood over his head, he walked to the outer edge of the wood, sitting down with his back against the rough trunk of a willow. Motionless, he stared at the empty lands to the east and south until the bright orange rim of the sun climbed above the eastern horizon.

As the sun’s golden rays crept over the plains, driving away the shadows of the night, Elerian silently walked out from under the trees and stood next to Ascilius. Overhead, the stars were fading in the blue-black sky, and color was returning to the grass that rolled away in waves to the horizon north, east, and south. Suddenly aware of Elerian’s presence, Ascilius rose stiffly to stand beside him. 

“The land is empty,” said Elerian. “It is as if we and the horses are the only creatures left alive in all this country.”

“The rumor of the dragon has caused all of the larger animals to flee,” said Ascilius gloomily. “I wish we dared risk a fire and have a warm breakfast. I am already tired of cold fare,” he said discontentedly as he stamped his feet to restore the circulation in his legs.

“We will have a hot meal tonight if I can knock down a brace of grass hens today,” Elerian assured the Dwarf. “A mage fire will make no smoke and will not give us away if we light it before darkness falls.”

The thought of a warm meal seemed to cheer Ascilius. His mood improved a little as they ate a cold breakfast of hard biscuits, cheese, and dried beef. When they were done, they packed their gear and mounted the horses once more, riding them through the clear, knee-deep water of the Tanicus. Before they rode out from under the trees on the far bank, Elerian called his silver ring to his hand. He and Ascilius, along with their mounts, vanished from sight, cloaked once again by the invisibility spell cast by the ring. When they set off, Elerian rode behind Ascilius so that he could keep an eye on the Dwarf with his magical third eye.

The two companions were now farther north than at any other time since they had entered Tarsius, traveling through country that Elerian had never seen before, although Ascilius seemed to know his way. The Dwarf angled their line of travel to the northwest, and within a half mile, they crossed the old Dwarf road that led to Ennodius. Several hours later, long after the road had vanished into the distance behind them, Elerian saw a peculiar mound: long, low, and unnaturally rounded, on their left.

“Surely that mound was raised by the hands of men,” said Elerian to Ascilius.

The Dwarf looked up, observing the mound without much interest.

“After a battle, the Tarsi bury their dead beneath barrows such as the one you see before you. This one is old, for the turf that covers it is well established.”

“How many men sleep beneath the earth here and how many more will join them before the reign of Torquatus is ended?” wondered Elerian to himself as he and Ascilius rode past the ancient gravesite. “If it is ever ended,” whispered a small, pessimistic voice in the back of his head.

Not long after passing the barrow, a second mound reared itself up on their left, this one low and round in shape. Gray, lichen-covered stones reared up out of the turf growing over it, the taller ones resembling gnarled gray fingers.

“This one is no barrow,” observed Elerian to Ascilius whose head was sunk onto his broad breast, for he was deep in thought. At the sound of Elerian’s voice, Ascilius looked up and started so badly that he almost lost his seat on the mare.

“We have come too far west,” he said in an agitated voice. “This is a place of ill omen.”

“But surely they are just ruins,” said Elerian. After a quick glance around to make sure there were no enemies about, he sent away his ring and signaled Enias to stop, for he wished to examine the mound more closely.

“This is a place to be avoided,” insisted Ascilius, reining in his mare when he and Elerian suddenly became visible. “These ruins were here long before the Tarsi ever came to the plains, before the Dwarves ever came east over the Murus. Legend has it that this cromlech was built by the Ancharians before they crossed over the Arvina into Ancharia, a place where their mages practiced their dark arts. More than one person has disappeared near these ruins over the years.”

The mention of magic immediately stirred Elerian’s interest. Up to now, he had followed Ascilius’s lead without question, but now, a strong desire to examine the mound welled up in his breast.

“I must have a closer look, for I may never pass this way again.” he said to Ascilius. “Who knows what secrets lie beneath those stones and the earth that covers them?”

“There are no secrets, only bones,” warned Ascilius, but Elerian had already ridden off.

“He is in one of his fey moods and will not listen to reason,” grumbled Ascilius to himself as he clapped his heels to his mare’s sides, sending her after Enias. “No good will come of this,” he thought gloomily to himself as he rode through the outer ring of stones.  

Ahead of Ascilius, Elerian rode across the grass-covered knoll, boldly ignoring the dark shadows cast by the upright stones around him, which resembled the remnants of pillars. Of his own accord, Enias stopped before a round depression the depth of a tall man that lay at the center of the cromlech. In the north side of the heap of earth and stone, out of sight of the rays of the rising and setting sun, was a dark, man high opening roofed by an enormous gray slab resembling a lintel.

“There is something down there,” thought Elerian to himself as he stared intently into the dolmen. “I can feel the magic of this place in my bones.”

Remembering the orb he had discovered in Arstis, heedless of Ascilius’s urgent call to stop, Elerian leaped lightly from Enias’s back and walked up to the opening, pausing under the slab to let his eyes adjust to the inky darkness that lay beyond it.

“Treasure,” was his first thought when he saw a crimson gleam in the depths of the tunnel that extended deep into the earth before him. Then, two scarlet points of light rose slowly into the air. Elerian felt the hair lift on the back of his neck. Was that the glint of teeth he saw? Was that noise the scrape of claws on stone? His third eye opened, revealing an indistinct red shade, bulky and huge, stirring in the depths of the tunnel. A sudden firm touch on his right shoulder caused Elerian to start badly.

Closing his magical eye, he turned to look over his right shoulder and saw Ascilius’s exultant face.

“Ha!” crowed the Dwarf. “After all this time, I finally startled you. Why you look as white as a ghost!”

Hastily, Elerian looked back into the tunnel. The eyes were still there, but fortunately, they had not come any closer.  

“Ascilius,” said Elerian in a low voice, there is something down there.

“Of course there is,” said Ascilius condescendingly. “Why not just admit that I scared you silly for once.”

Elerian moved to his left so that Ascilius could see into the tunnel. A low, guttural growl given birth by some mighty chest and infinitely menacing rumbled up from the passageway. For the first time, Ascilius saw eyes burning like coals in the dark depths. A monstrous shape, shrouded and made indistinct by the lack of light, stirred restlessly.

“Merciful heavens, a lentulus!” said Ascilius in a horrified voice. “Run, Elerian!”

Taking his own advice, Ascilius turned and sprinted for his mare, covering the ground in leaps so prodigious that his feet seemed to spurn the earth. In a wondrous display of agility, he leaped onto his startled mount and beat his heels into her sides, riding her out of the hollow like one born to the saddle.

Despite the unknown danger at his back, Elerian’s gray eyes gleamed with laughter as he ran to Enias and leaped lightly onto the stallion’s sleek back. “Who would ever have guessed that Ascilius has become such a horseman,” he observed to himself

“Away Enias,” he shouted cheerfully, “or Ascilius will arrive in Ennodius days ahead of us.”

As Enias sprang lightly after the mare, Elerian looked over his left shoulder, but the entrance to the dolmen remained empty.

 “The creature we saw does not care for the light,” he thought to himself or it would have followed us. “Surely it was a fey mood that was drawing me into that tunnel. Was it born of my own mind, or was I ensorceled by the creature in the cave? If I had not seen its eyes, I would have walked right into its jaws.”