Into the fire

Chapter 28

The Fox Riders report that the Foul Folk have fled from Eryn Ford," said Nix.

Sitting on the ground, Rynna paused in her fletching of arrows and squinted up at Nix. "Fled?"

"Aye. She says, they ran away when they saw the Liv Vols coming across the wold."

Tip shifted Lark to his other knee. "Liv Vols?"

"Uh, Living Mounds," replied Nix.

"See!" exclaimed Beau, turning to Tip. "I told you."

"Are the Spawn gone for good?" asked Melli.

Nix shrugged and looked toward Rynna.

"I don't think so, Melli," replied Rynna, returning to her fletching. "Although they fled the field, still they seem to be here for a purpose, though just what that could be…"

"We thought it might be to keep the Hidden Ones from joining the Free Folk," said Tip, "keep them trapped in the woods, so to speak."

Rynna shook her head and set the arrow aside and took up another shaft. "I don't think so, Tip. Although the Hidden Ones are deadly, nearly invincible, within their dardas, out in the open they are quite vulnerable, almost ineffective, and that's why they will not join any alliance outside of their own domain."

"But didn't the Rcks and such run from them just now?" asked Beau. "-Or rather, last night? And that was out in the open."

"Aye, but the maggot-folk had just suffered a calamity among Eio Wa Suk, and mayhap they thought another disaster was upon them."

Lark, losing her fascination with Tip, wriggled free and, stepping on unsteady feet over the uneven ground, she toddled to Rynna's side and plopped down and took up a feather to taste. As Tip scooted over and slipped it from Lark's fingers and used it to tickle the dammsel's nose, he asked, "Did you not say the Gargon had recently come to their ranks?"

Rynna nodded. "Within the sevenday."

Tipperton grinned at Lark, but his words to the others held an ominous note. "Then it seems to me as if Modru is expecting something rather momentous along this flank and wanted the Gargon to stop it."

Beau looked at Linde. "Perhaps that monster was brought here to stop the Jordians."

Linde glanced at Sten and then back at Beau and slowly shook her head. "I think not, for we are, or were, just a brigade. Why spend a Gargon to deal with such a small force?"

Beau shrugged, a pensive look on his face. "I dunno, yet I do think Tip is right: something is brewing, else I'll eat my hat."

Tip laughed.

"What?" said Beau.

"You don't have a hat, bucco."

Lark squealed as if she agreed, and that set them all to laughing.

In that moment, Tynvyr came striding up the slope, her black-footed red fox following. She and Rynna spoke for long moments, then Tynvyr leapt astraddle the fox and rode down and away.

Rynna turned to Linde. "Tynvyr says that with the ford abandoned, now is the time for the Vanadurin to go if you yet aim for Pellar, though you are welcome to stay within the woodland. She believes it will be a few days ere the Spawn regain their courage to come once more to the eaves of Darda Erynian or those of Darda Stor."

Linde raised an eyebrow. "Darda Stor?"

"The Greatwood to the south."

"Oh."

"What about our slain?" asked Sten. "Are we to leave them lying afield?"

An unspoken question on her lips, Linde looked at Rynna.

"Tynvyr says the Fey have kept their word," answered Rynna.

In the mead north of the ford, ninety-seven Vanadurin ahorse and five Warrows on ponies rode past destroyed war chariots and wrecked supply wagons and in among raised mounds of grassy turves, for here were buried the Harlingar: Hrosmarshal Hannor, Warrior Maidens Dediana and Ilea and Irana, and nine hundred other Jordians.

How they had been buried and by whom, none could say, though Beau declared it had to have been done by the Living Mounds.

Of the slain Spawn there was no sign, neither here nor by the marge of Darda Erynian… nor was there any sign of the maggot-folk, those who had been slaughtered among the Groaning Stones. And in this, too, Beau claimed it to be the work of the Living Mounds. "I mean, who else could have done it?"

And now as evening drew down on the land, Warrows and weeping Harlingar-many of the Jordians bearing battle wounds now bound-made their way to the midmost mound among the many barrows. And there Linde called for a halt and all dismounted. She raised her black-oxen horn to her lips and blew a ringing note and cried out so all could hear:

Ride forth, Harlingar, ride forth,

Along the Shadowed Way,

Where only Heroes gallop

And Steeds never tire.

Hal, Warriors of the Spear and Saber!

Hal, Warriors of the Knife and Arrow!

Hal, Warriors of the Horn and Horse!

Ride forth, my comrades, ride forth!

And Linde blew her black-oxen horn again, as did all the Vanadurin, and the spirited horses of the Harlingar raised their heads and belled out challenges and pawed at the earth, for the horn call was for war.

Then Linde stepped to the Warrows and embraced and kissed each and every one, and when she came to Rynna, she whispered, "Thank you for saving us. And tell Tynvyr this: what little we know of the secrets of Blackwood are locked in word-bond forever."

Rynna returned her embrace, and said, "I will tell her."

As Linde stood, "Have you adequate supplies to carry on?" asked Farly.

Linde nodded and gestured at the many packhorses among the Vanadurin. These were the surviving horses of those who had been slain in the battle, horses that had scattered before the Gargon. Yet trained as they were, they had come to the sound of a horn call, and now they were laded with goods. "Aye. Some of the supply wagons were left undamaged-unplundered as well-and we gathered in enough food and grain to last us unto Caer Pendwyr."

"Use that food with caution," said Nix. "The maggot-folk may have tainted it with poison and left it apurpose."

Linde nodded.

"I will miss riding with you," said Beau.

"And I will miss your company, too," replied Linde- she turned to Tipperton-"and your playing and singing, my wee friend." She hesitated a moment, but then stepped to her saddlebag and drew out a black-oxen horn and handed it to Tipperton. "Here, wee one, this was Dedia-na's. Use it at dire need."

Tip's eyes flew wide. "Oh, but I couldn't-"

Linde looped the strap over his head. "You are a scout, my friend, and this may came in handy one day."

Tip nodded, acceding to her wishes.

Linde mounted, and looked down. "We shall meet again, my comrades, of that I do not doubt."

"Fare you well, Warrior Maiden," said Tip, "so do we all you bid."

Linde raised her horn to her lips and blew another call, and all the Jordians mounted. Sten rode forward to Linde's side, the butt of his spear couched in his stirrup cup, the Gargon's head on the blade. And when all had formed up in a rank behind, a thicket of upright spears stirring, Linde cried out an elder benediction of the Vanadurin:

Arise, Harlingar, to Arms!

Fortune's three faces now turn our way:

One smiling, one grim, one secret;

May the never-seen face remain always hidden.

Hal, Warriors of the Spear and Saber!

Hal, Warriors of the Knife and Arrow!

Hal, Warriors of the Horn and Horse!

Ride forth, Harlingar, ride forth!

And in the gathering darkness, again she blew her horn and, drawing packhorses behind, out from the mounds and across the ford ninety-seven fierce warriors rode, aiming for Caer Pendwyr to serve as a pledge from King Ranor to High King Blaine that the nation of Jord as soon as it could would ride to his side as well.

Tip, Rynna, Beau, Nix, and Farly all watched till the Vanadurin were across and away, and then they turned their ponies back to Darda Erynian, and when twilight faded into night they were safely within the grasp of that mysterious, shadowed wood.

The next day, waving farewell to Nix and Farly and Tynvyr and several Pysks at Tynvyr's side, Tip, Rynna, Beau, and Melli with Lark, all rode out from the ward camp and west, aiming for the holding of the Springwater Warrows, the site some thirty miles away. And as they rode, a warm breeze blew from the south, bearing with it the promise of spring, though chill nights yet grasped the land, and frost seemed but a nip away. Nevertheless, buds swelled, and here and there crocuses bloomed along with yellow winter aconite, and bees stirred among these sparse blossoms. The land smelled of wetness, though it hadn't rained within the week, yet bournes flowed sprightly and clear. Birds flitted among the branches above, readying for the season yet to come, much to Lark's delight, the wee youngling standing and joggling in her bassinet, the basket hanging from the forecantle of Melli's saddle.

And as the Warrows slowly wended among the trees and through the galleries of Darda Erynian, they spoke of many things:

"Aye," said Rynna, "Silverleaf and Urel did indeed escape, both wounded, Silverleaf near fatally. Others managed to win free, managed to fight their way to the west gate and out."

"But none of the Warrows?" asked Tip.

Rynna shook her head and her voice choked. "None of the Warrows at the fort survived. And had not Nix and Farly and I been at Olorin Isle and in Darda Galion beyond, then we, too, would have fallen, that I do not doubt. But we were with Aravan and Arnu and Velera and finding the Rivermen's tale to be a lie."

"Arnu? Velera?" asked Beau.

"Arnu is a Baeran; Lady Velera a Lian."

"What of the Horde?" asked Tipperton.

"They destroyed Caer Lindor. It is now nought but ruins. But by the Spawn taking the days to bring down the walls, the Hidden Ones had time to muster and subsequently attack. The Foul Folk fled, but fully half did not live to escape Darda Erynian and Darda Stor. Those that did learned to fear them both. And I believe had not the Gar-gon been with them this last time, I think they would not have entered Blackwood again."

"Not even if Modru's surrogate demanded it?"

Rynna turned up a hand. "This I do know: the maggot-folk survivors of Caer Lindor, they fled the woods but did not keep running. Instead, they reassembled, perhaps at the command of the surrogate, and they continued to patrol up and down the eastern eaves as if they yet had a mission to fulfill. They are the ones who attacked the Jordians, though I do not believe that was their purpose for being here. Instead I think they have a different task, though what it may be, who knows? Yet if it calls for them to enter Black-wood or the Greatwood again, then I think they shall, for Modru will demand such of them. Yet they will not find us unprepared, for Tynvyr and the others even now make ready for such an event. Never again will they catch us unaware."

They paused at a stream to let the ponies take on water, and Tip said, "What of Silverleaf and Aravan? Where are they now?"

"Silverleaf, I believe, captains a band of raiders somewhere along the Grimwall. Aravan now serves Coron Eiron of Darda Galion; I think he rides with Galarun."

"Oh, we met Galarun," said Beau, then barked a laugh. "He saved our bacon, and the next day we savored his."'

Rynna wrinkled her nose and looked at Tipperton. "A small jest," said Tip.

"A very small jest," she replied, as they took up the journey again.

Tip, Rynna, and Beau rode without speaking for a while, lost together in thought, though Lark, hanging onto the side of her basket, jiggled about and babbled and pointed at birds and scurrying voles and other woodland creatures disturbed by the passage of the ponies, while Melli called out their names.

Finally Tip said, "I'd like to see Caer Lindor for myself."

"Though its battlements and halls are nought but rubble, I will take you there," said Rynna, and onward they fared.

"Oh my," said Beau, his eyes glittering in the light of the campfire as he peered through the darkness and into the forest beyond and fumbled for his sling.

"What is it?" asked Tip, setting aside his lute and taking up his bow and standing and turning to face the direction where Beau stared.

"Something out there. Moving. I swear it looked like nothing more than a bundle of twigs and vines. And don't you say I didn't see such, Tip. You pooh-poohed it when I first saw a mound that moved, and now it's withy and leaves stirring about out there."

Melli looked where Beau pointed. "Oh," she said, "it's just Prym."

"Prym?" said Tip, turning to Rynna. "Say, isn't that who you named as being one of Lark's wards?"

"Yes," replied Rynna. "She usually watches over her at night."

"What is she?" asked Tip, stepping forward for a better view. But Prym backed away in the darkness. "Oh, I frightened her," added Tip, disappointed.

Rynna laughed. "Frightened? Oh no, my love. She's one of the Vred Tres, shy as are they all. Too, she does not trust fire. But frightened of us she is not."

"Twigs and vines and leaves?" asked Beau, his eyes wide.

"Um, yes, that's what they seem. Some would call her a Woodwer, and savage is she and all her kind when someone endeavors to clear away any part of the woodland in which they dwell, clear it away without their specific permission, that is." Rynna took up her pennywhistle again and said, "Come, Tip, Lark needs another song."

Reluctantly turning away from the perimeter, Tip stepped to his log and set aside his bow. He resumed his seat and picked up his lute, and soon a lively tune rang through the woodland along with Lark's laughter. And among the trees, Prym moved forward again, the better to see and hear.

Nigh the noontide of the next day, they rode through a ring of warders-striplings and maidens and eld buccen for the most part, bearing bows and slings, though a few seemed to have no weapons at all-and into the holding of the Springwater Warrows.

"I think you'll like it here, Beau," said Melli, smiling, as she watched him swiveling about to look back at the maidens.

Rynna grinned, too, and then looked at Tip and growled, "You, my bucco, are taken."

Tip's mouth dropped open. "But I wouldn't-I mean- I-"

Rynna laughed gaily and rode on ahead. And the four ponies and their passengers trotted past pigpens and coops and fields tilled for planting, past a rope pen where ponies were held. And they fared in among sapling-woven bowers, where a handful of younglings came running alongside, calling out for any news, while other Warrows stepped through their doorways and watched and listened and called out as well.

"This evening," said Rynna, fending off the queries, "when we hold a town meeting. No need to tell it twice."

Town meeting? Tip looked about and estimated altogether there were some thirty or thirty-five huts. More like a hamlet, I would say.

Rynna dismounted before one of the bowers, and said,

"Here is our place, Tip. Beau, you can take one of the empty-"

"Nonsense," declared Melli. "Beau, you will stay with-" "Mum," cried a feminine voice, "you're back." Beau turned to see an amber-eyed brown-haired maiden, verging on her young damman years, come rushing to Melli, and they embraced one another. Then Melli turned to Beau. "As I was saying, you can stay with Linnet and me. Linnet, this is Beau Darby. Beau, my dammsel Linnet, sister of Nix and cousin of Rynna." "Oh my," breathed Beau, entirely unaware he was speaking aloud, "but you are beautiful." And as Linnet blushed and lowered her eyes, Melli turned aside and smiled unto herself.

"… killed a Gargon, you say?"

"Yes, Will," replied Rynna. "Crushed it."

A mutter of voices rose up. "Good riddance," called out someone amid the babble.

"And good riddance for the Foul Folk slain by the Vana-durin," said someone else.

"And those killed by the Stones," added another.

And someone cheered, others to take it up, for all slain Spawn were from the Horde that had devastated the village of Springwater.

Rynna held up her hands and raised her voice and called for quiet. As the gathering of Warrows settled down, Rynna said, "The ill news is that many of the Foul Folk managed to escape and they yet range along the eastern eaves of the wood."

A collective sigh rose up from the Warrows, but Rynna spoke on: "Yet there is much good news as well."

"Like what?"

"Well, for one"-she gestured at Beau-"this buccan has found a cure for the plague-"

A cure? For the plague? Can it be? Oh my!

"-and saved the city of Dendor entire."

Again a babble rose up, but Rynna called out, "And together with their allies"-quietness fell and Rynna repeated-"and together with their allies-the Dwarves of Kachar and the Men of Dendor-Tip and Beau broke Mo-dru's siege of the city. But here, I'll let those two buccen tell the tale for themselves." She turned to the twain and gestured for them to take places on the slope beside her, saying, "Tip, Beau, if you will."

Reluctantly the two stepped upslope and turned to face the gathering. And Beau shoved Tip to the fore. All through the telling, Beau shuffled uncomfortably, for ten or so dammen looked upon him adoringly, especially the maiden Linnet.

The very next day, Tip, Beau, Rynna, and an older buc-can named Delby prepared to set out for Caer Lindor. Melli stood by with Lark in her arms, for she and Prym would care for the child while the two were gone, though the Woodwer had not been seen since the night they had camped in the forest. Even so, Melli assured them that Prym was nigh at hand. Too, Melli slipped a smoke-cured slab of bacon into Beau's saddlebag among his other provisions, saying, "It'll be tasty on the trail."

As they mounted up to ride away, Linnet, who had been hanging back, stepped forward and hesitantly asked, "Beau, um, would you carry my favor for luck?"

Mutely, Beau nodded, and she unwove a pale brown ribbon from her dark brown hair. Beau leaned over as she tied it 'round his upper arm. And as he was bent down, she quickly kissed him and fled away in the direction of her bower.

Beau looked after her in amazement, and with Melli smiling and wee Lark squealing in joy, away spurred Rynna and Tip and Delby, Tip calling out, "Come on, Beau, the sun waits for no one."

Jerking to his senses, Beau heeled the flanks of his pony and followed after, though his thoughts ran elsewhere.

And when he caught up with them, Rynna said, "I hope you realize, Beau, just what a precious gift you have been given."

Beau looked down at the ribbon.

"Not the ribbon, Beau," said Rynna, "though that is precious as well."

"The ribbon?" asked Tip.

"Aye. For when we all fled Springwater, there was little time to take away the things we valued. Most was lost to the pillaging Spawn. And Linnet, well, one of the few things she rescued was that cherished ribbon she has just given away."

"Oh my," said Beau. "I'll ride back and return it now." "No you don't, bucco," growled Tip. "Even I, as dense as I am, even I know better than that." And on through the Blackwood they fared, Beau ever glancing down at the dear ribbon now tied 'round his arm.

Southwesterly they rode through Darda Erynian all that day and the next, and on the second day they came to the Rissanin River, to follow along its banks. And late in the afternoon of the third day, they sighted the wreckage of Caer Lindor, the island fortress nought but rubble, only the thickest part of the walls yet standing, no more than ten or twelve feet high in places, less in others. Of its towers and turrets and the great hall, nothing but broken stone remained.

"Goodness," groaned Beau.

"Goodness had nought to do with it," growled Delby.

Tip sighed and said, "I would like to ride in, but I suppose they destroyed the bridges as well."

"They were going to," said Delby, "but the Hidden Ones attacked just then. A good thing, too."

"Good thing?"

"Aye. It allowed the Hidden Ones to cross over and harry and hound the Spawn from the Greatwood as well as Darda Erynian, and many more of the maggot-folk were slain. Too, this is a major crossing over the Rissanin, and the Baeron and Elves would not have it otherwise. The Hidden Ones ward it now."

"Ah, I see," said Tip, looking 'round, seeing no one at all.

And so, as twilight crept upon the land, over the western pontoon bridge they rode and into the shadowed rubble beyond, the mighty portcullises and ironclad gates nought but twisted metal.

"Lor', what wrack," said Beau, gazing about at shattered stone. "And Trolls did this?"

"Yes," replied Rynna.

"What of the slain?" asked Tip.

Rynna pointed to a clear space on the courtyard pave, where a great blackened scorch marked the stone. "We recovered as many as we could… and set a pyre. The Baeron, though, took their own dead into the Greatwood. But there are those we never found, and we think they were thrown into the Rissanin and were borne down to the sea."

Beau shuddered and glanced at Tip, and Tip shook his head slightly, both buccen perhaps recalling the corpses they had seen partly consumed, yet neither said aught to Rynna.

"Well," said Delby, "if you've seen enough, it's time we were making camp."

"But not in this place of death and ruin," said Beau, shivering, "not in this place of loss."

"Look," hissed Beau, pointing.

Among the trees along the western bank of the Rissanin there burned several small fires.

"Someone is camped," said Rynna.

"Someones, you mean," said Delby.

"A small force?" asked Tip.

"Who could it be?" asked Beau. "Foul Folk?"

"Perhaps, though not likely. They fear this place," said Rynna.

"Rivermen?"

Rynna took up her bow and said, "There's but one way to find out. Leave the ponies tied."

Moving as only Warrows can move, silent in their steps, among the trees the four crept, ever nearing the fires. And then Rynna reached out and stopped Tip at her side. She pointed, and among the shadowed wood and away from the light there stood a sentry.

Tip looked to see where Beau and Delby had gotten to, but they were nowhere in sight. And so, silently hand signalling Rynna to proceed and receiving a nod in return, arrows nocked, creeping low, toward the warder slipped the two, the damman angling away to Tipperton's right, ten paces from his flank.

Tip was no more than twenty feet from the sentry when the warder turned his face toward the firelight, and Tip smiled and stood up and softly said, "Hadron, 'tis I, Tipper-ton Thistledown, and I no longer have the soap."

Hadron started and looked Tip's way, and then he laughed.

As Hadron escorted them to the fires, Rynna asked, "What's all this about soap?"

"Hadron was with Galarun's company, the Lian who rescued us from the Hyrinians on the Plains of Valon. In any event, he gave Beau and me a bar of scented soap as a parting gift when we went on. Like wildflowers it smelled."

"I remember," said Rynna. "The scent, that is. It was on you when first we met… and the night before we parted."

In that moment they walked in among the campfires, and a company of Lian looked up as they came striding by.

"Oh, Hadron," said Tip, "Beau and another Warrow are out there somewhere, perhaps we ought to whistle them i-"

"We're not out there," said Beau, he and Delby stepping from behind an enshadowed tree.

"Ha!" barked Hadron. "So much for Elven warders where the Wee Folk are concerned."

"Rynna," called a voice. Rynna looked across the fires. It was Aravan, and beside him stood another Elf.

"Alor Galarun," exclaimed Beau, "hal and well met again, and would you happen to have any bacon?"

Night had deepened and the fires had fallen to embers when Aravan looked at Galarun. "Somehow, I think Modru knows of what we seek, and the Gargon was placed at Eryn Ford to thwart this mission. 'Twas only happenstance the Vanadurin sprang their trap."

Beau's eyes widened. "Oh lor', it's all connected."

"Gyphon," spat Galarun. He turned to the Waerlinga. "And ye say the Spawn are yet nigh the ford?"

Rynna nodded.

"Then we need change our route."

"Where are you bound?" asked Tipperton.

Galarun glanced at Aravan and then said, "To Black Mountain."

"In Xian?" blurted Beau, then immediately said, "Of course, you ninnyhammer, Black Mountain is in Xian."

"Why would you be going to the Wizardholt?" asked Tip. "-If I may ask, that is."

"Great events are under way," said Galarun, "and we are sent for a mighty token of power: a silver sword."

"Silver? Not steel?"

"So I was told. Yet whether it is silver plain or starsilver, or dark silveron, I know not."

Rynna cast a small twig into the fire. "You spoke of great events under way…?"

Galarun took a deep breath. "Know ye that Atala is destroyed?"

Tip looked at Beau then back at Galarun. "We suspected as much, but now you confirm it?"

Galarun nodded. "Aye. A survivor, Talar, rode unto Darda Galion, looking for his jaian Riatha."

"Jaian?" asked Delby.

"Sister," said Tipperton. "Jaian is Sylva for sister."

"Oh."

Tip turned back to Galarun. "Then this Talar, he is an Elf."

"Aye. A Lian."

"Go on with the tale," said Beau.

Galarun smiled. "Talar's jaian Riatha, she is among those warding the wold north of Darda Galion, though I understand she and her band cross over into Darda Erynian now and again. Regardless, ere Talar went onward, he told us Karak had exploded, and great tidal waves rolled outward and engulfed many coastal lands, destroying cities, and slaying thousands. Hardest hit were the isles of Gelen, though the coasts of Thol, Gothon, Basq, and Vancha were inundated as well. For a calamity so great, only Gyphon could do such."

"But why?" asked Delby.

"We think it was to destroy the city of Duellin, for weapons of great might are forged therein, or were forged, I should say… swords in the main. And these Gyphon would keep from the hands of those who would oppose Him."

Galarun fell silent, but Aravan said, "Many Lian lived on that isle as well-in Darda Immer, the Brightwood of Atala-and would have been a formidable force to bring to bear."

"We knew of the Brightwood," said Tipperton, "and of the Lian, but not of the blades of Duellin."

"This silver sword," said Rynna, "what will it do, and why is it needed now?"

Aravan looked at Galarun, and at a slight nod, turned to the Waerlinga and said, "We know not its intended purpose, though some say it will slay the High Vulk Himself."

"High Vulk?"

"Gyphon."

"Oh my," said Beau. "No wonder they sent a Gargon to stop you."

Rynna frowned. "But why now? Why fetch it now? – The silver sword, I mean. And once fetched, who will wield it?"

Aravan clenched a fist. "Gyphon and a large force of Rupt have invaded from the Low to the High Plane, and a great battle rages thereupon."

"Oh no," cried Tip. "If He wins Adonar-"

"Then He will control all," blurted Beau.

"Can Gyphon win?" asked Delby.

Aravan turned up his hands. "Until He was thwarted, He seemed to be striking for an in-between to Mithgar."

"To Mithgar?"

"Aye, for with the ways sundered between Neddra and Mithgar, Gyphon's direct invasion of the Middle Plane is stopped."

"You say He was thwarted?" said Rynna.

Aravan nodded. "Aye. Many Elves and others crossed to the High Plane to help stop Gyphon, for it seems His strategy was to breach the High Plane and come to Mithgar, at which point he will have won. But Adon has now sundered all ways between the Planes except the ways of the blood."

"Ways of the blood: what are they?"

Aravan steepled his fingers. "For those who know how, who know the in-between rites, they can go home, but nowhere else. They will not be able to cross over to a Plane not of their blood. Hence, Elves away from the High Plane can return to Adonar but will not be able to cross to any other Plane. Foul Folk away from the Low Plane can go to Neddra, but nowhere else. Those of Mithgar can come here but cannot go to Adonar or Neddra. Of course, horses and animals can go as well, as long as there is someone to chant the way. Already Darda Galion is poorer for the Sundering, for the Silverlarks have disappeared. These are the blood ways, Tipperton, the ways that will allow one to return home, the ways that bar all else."

"Oh, I see. But what of the battle on the High Plane. Where does it stand?"

Aravan turned up his hands. "With the Sundering, Gy-phon's plan to invade Mithgar by marching across Adonar is thwarted, yet we can only assume that the battle for control of the High Plane rages on, for not only must Modru be defeated on Mithgar, Gyphon must be defeated upon Adonar as well, for if Gyphon wins on the High Plane, or if Modru wins on the Middle Plane then, as ye say, Gyphon rules all."

"What about Neddra?" asked Beau.

Aravan sighed. "We believe that before the Sundering a regiment of Free Folk had invaded the Low Plane, and fighting goes on there as well, but with only a regiment they cannot succeed but only can harass."

"All right, then," said Rynna, "we understand. Now answer my last question: who is to wield the silver sword?"

Aravan shrugged, but Galarun said, "This and no more do we know: my company and I are to fetch it from Black Mountain and bear it to Darda Galion. My sire, Coron Eiron, will then decide who is to ride the blood way and take it to the High Plane. That it is to go there makes me believe it is meant for the hand of Adon, Himself."

"Well then," said Rynna, "if Modru knows of your mission, then he will do all to stop you."

Both Aravan and Galarun nodded, and Rynna went on to say, "And to prevent Modru from stopping you at the marge of Darda Erynian, what I would advise is for you to let us guide you through the Greatwood and to the plains of Riamon south of where the Spaunen lie in wait. That way you can skirt entirely 'round them, and a spur of the Rimmens will stand across their way and thwart them from pursuit."

Galarun grinned at Rynna and exclaimed, "Done and done!"

In the morn at break of fast, Galarun said, "Sorry, Beau, but of bacon we have none. Mian, yes, for we travel light."

"Wull, then," said Beau, "as for travelling light, on this trip the Warrows do not, even though we were expecting to go just to Caer Lindor and then back again. And so, I'll share out what bacon we have with you and yours as far as it will go, returning your favor of months past, if you please."

As he cut slices off the slab Melli had put in his saddlebag, Beau asked, "How goes the war at Drimmen-deeve?"

" Tis done. The siege broken not a month past. And although they took grievous losses, the Drimma now harry the Rupt, fighting in the Grimwall-in this they are aided by Baeron and Lian. As soon as the rage of the Drimma is spent, they will be ready to aid the High King."

"If I know anything of Dwarves," said Tip, "it is this: long will it be ere a Dwarven rage is satisfied."

Galarun laughed. "Ah, Waerling, thou dost know them well."

"Speaking of the High King," said Beau, "does anyone know of his whereabouts?"

Galarun shook his head. "Talar said-"

"Talar-that's the one who survived the destruction of Atala?" asked Beau.

"Aye. He was saved by passing ship and borne to a Go-thon port. In that port there are rumors the High King fights to the west of the Grimwall-in Rian and Wellen and Dalara and Trellinath-though how any came by this news, neither Talar nor his sources could say. But the Go-thonians had been constructing ships to join with a mighty fleet, for the Straits of Kistan are blockaded, and it will take such a fleet to break through. But the great waves from the destruction of Atala destroyed the ships and much of the sheltered port as well. Yet the Gothonians have started anew and are laying keels again, the ships huge and many decked, to carry both men and horses. With all the ways across the Grimwalls held by the Rupt, we believe the High King plans to sail with that fleet to come unto Pellar."

"But all the ways are not blocked," said Tip. "You told us yourself that Drimmen-deeve is free."

"Aye, but the High King may know it not, though Coron Eiron has now sent messengers across Quadran Pass to find King Blaine and tell him that way is now unfettered."

As they rode among the trees of the Greatwood-"Aye, Tipperton, a Pysk did slay a Draedan," said Aravan. "I was there when 'twas done."

"How did this come about?" asked Tip. "And how can a tiny Pysk slay a mighty Gargon?"

"Jinnarin, a Pysk, and Alamar, a Mage, came asking for my help to find her mate Farrix. Across the world we voyaged, and when we found him at last, 'twas then she slew the Mandrak, though not in a corporeal state."

"Not in a what?" asked Tip.

"Corporeal state," answered Beau. "Not in a physical form." Then Beau frowned and looked at Aravan. "Not in a physical form?"

Aravan nodded. "It was as she dreamwalked, and she slew the Draedan's spirit therein but not its body, though its body did die as well."

"When was this and where?" asked Tip.

A look of pain flared deep in Aravan's eyes. "It was on a small isle in the Sindhu Sea in the time of the destruction of Rwn…"

On the sixth day of May Galarun looked out on the open plain, empty for as far as the eye could see, though a hawk circled in the distant sky. To the left a spur of the Rimmen Mountains guarded the north. Galarun turned to the Waer-linga. "I thank ye all for the warning and for guiding us here. That we would have fallen into a Ruptish trap is mayhap certain. Yet now ye have steered us 'round their flank, and 'tis on to Xian we ride. Long will it take to reach there, and long will be the journey back.

"Yet heed, as ye have guided us, I would have ye keep track of the whereabouts of the Spaunen and lead other folk safely past them as well."

"But we were thinking of going to Pellar and aiding the High King," said Tip.

Rynna looked startled.

Tip turned to Rynna. "It is war, love, and as well we know, in war loves and lovers are parted, though I would dwell with you awhile."

Rynna nodded in anguish but said, "I understand."

"I say, though," exclaimed Beau, "in the meantime, if we can get the Drimmen-deeve Dwarves to come to Darda Erynian, then we can destroy the remnants of the Foul Folk who wait at Eryn Ford, and then we won't have to worry about them at all."

Aravan shook his head. "Nay, Beau, 'tis better those Spaunen be left alone, for where they are they do little good in Modru's cause, and little harm in ours."

"But they slew nearly all the Vanadurin," protested Beau, "and if that's little harm, then I don't know what harm is."

"Aye, that was indeed harm. Yet heed, as Galarun says, we would have ye Waerlinga keep track of the Rupt and guide others past them as ye have guided us. And in that way they will be ineffective, a waste of Modru's power."

Galarun nodded. "The Horde is best set along a margin where they are doing no good whatsoever, though Modru knows it not. Mayhap it will lead him to believe we have not set out at all, and are yet to fall into his trap. If so, then mayhap our mission to Black Mountain will go forth unmolested. Hence, leave them be, and this I promise, when we return we will lay the Rupt by the heels. And when the time to go to Pellar comes, we will proudly ride with ye.

"But now our mission is not to aid the High King, but to fetch a sword instead, and I would have Modru think we are yet to come."

Rynna nodded, as did Tip, though his assent came reluctantly.

Galarun smiled and then said, "Fare ye well, my friends, and may Adon ward each and every one of ye."

And Galarun signed to his company, and with Aravan at his side, out into the plains they all rode, packhorses and remounts trailing, the Lian on an enigmatic mission to receive a silver sword from Mages and bear it back to war.

"Farewell," cried Rynna. "May Elwydd keep you all."

As they watched the Elven company ride away, Tipper-ton sighed and said, "I suppose they're right, though leaving two segments of Foul Folk on our very doorstone sits askew with me. Nevertheless, if keeping track of the Spawn and guiding others past will serve the needs of all best, well then, I suppose it'll have to do."

Rynna nodded, then said, "We have done well these six days, steering Galarun and his company 'round a danger lying in wait. Let us go back to Darda Erynian and see how to best carry out the mission he has charged us with."

The four Warrows set out for Caer Lindor, where they would cross back over into the Blackwood once more. And as they rode, Beau said, "Well, Tip, with Warrows and Pysks and Groaning Stones, with Living Mounds and Woodwers, there's not a man among them. We couldn't find a better group of not-men."

"Not-men they are, that I agree, but I ask you this: are we using their aid to quench the fires of war or simply to avoid strife?"

Beau frowned and did not answer Tipperton's question as into the Greatwood they rode.