Into the fire

Chapter 32

"Not only have they returned," said Farly, "but there's something afoot on the wold and in the Rimmens."

"Something afoot?" Rynna glanced at Tip and then back to Farly. "What?"

"Well, they've increased their patrols along the eaves two-or threefold above what they were before they went haring off for Rimmen Gape. -Not bigger patrols, mind you, but just more of them. The same is true of their watch posts along the Rimmen Spur: they've increased the number and have shifted their old ones to new places. In addition to that, they've begun scouring the heights trying to locate ours."

"Oh my," exclaimed Beau, taking Linnet's hand. "Have any been hurt? -Any of our watchers, that is."

"Not so far," replied Farly, "though there's been one or two close calls."

Nix frowned and looked at Rynna. "I wonder what it all means?"

Rynna paused in thought and then said, "Perhaps they do not want a repeat of what happened at Rimmen Gape, their trap being sprung and all."

Slowly, Tip shook his head. "It seems to me that something greater may be afoot, but what it might be I cannot say."

"Who knows the mind of Modru?" muttered Beau.

"All we can do," said Rynna, "is keep a wary watch."

Three days later, Rynna stood at the map table in the ward camp, Warrows gathered 'round. A handful of Pysks stood on the table itself and looked at the map Tip had sketched on a broad sheet of vellum. Rynna looked across at Tynvyr and said, [The news is grim.] Picyn and Tynvyr glanced at one another, their features giving way to dismay.

[Tell us,] said Tynvyr.

Rynna sighed and spoke on: [When the siege of Drim-men-deeve was lifted, Coron Eiron sent heralds across Quadran Pass to find High King Blaine. Though there were many foe along the way, some of the couriers managed to get through-and back as well. This is what they learned:

[In the opening days of the war, Modru's forces swept out from Gron and 'round the northern end of the Rigga Mountains. Down through Rian they came, and assaulted Challerain Keep. It fell in a pitched battle, but not before the balefires were lit. The High King and some of his forces managed to escape, and they fought a series of running skirmishes as they fled south and west.]

Beau stabbed a finger to the map. [Here near Stonehill there were several battles in a set of downs, and it was here Blaine and his forces smashed the foe, for here the High King won. But more Foul Folk marched down through Rian, and still more came from the east, and so the King and survivors went west, past the Bosky and into Wellen beyond.] Beau grinned. [Eiron said the Boskydells themselves are yet safe, for the maggot-folk can't breach the Thornwall ringing it all 'round.]

Rynna's finger traced a route on the map: [The maggot-folk who came at the King from the east had marched through Gruwen Pass and into Drearwood and then west, for Modru hoped to catch the King between this force and the Spawn to the north.]

[These were the ones we saw when we came through Drearwood,] said Beau, looking at Tip.

Tip nodded but did not reply as Rynna continued:

[Still in the north, the maggot-folk took Crestan Pass, and Quadran Pass, and set siege upon Drimmen-deeve.

[Too, they blocked the Gunarring Gap.]

[As we found out,] muttered Beau, looking at the map.

[Is there no end to Modru's vile greed?] asked Phero, stepping across the map to view it from the other side.

[You've not heard the half of it,] said Linnet, gesturing for Rynna to go on.

Rynna jabbed a finger to the map at several points: [Here they set siege upon Mineholt North, and here they occupied Rimmen Gape. And here they set siege on Dendor in Aven, and as Tip and Beau have reported]-her hand swept across the Boreal-[from the sea the Spawn invaded the Steppes of Jord.]

Rynna looked up from the map. [Of course, the sieges of Rimmen Gape and Mineholt North and Drimmen-deeve and the city of Dendor have all been broken, and it seems that the Jordians have the maggot-folk on the run, though that news is old and may have taken a turn for the worse.]

[Yes,] said Tynvyr, [but what of the High King, and what of the Hyrinians and Kistanians and Chabbains?]

Rynna's hand swept south and west. [Eiron's own forces have reported that in the south the Lakh of Hyree were ferried across the Straits of Kistan by the Rovers, and up through Vancha and Tugal they came, ravaging as they went.

[The Kistanians themselves, after burning the ships in the harbors of Arbalin, landed a force in Hoven, though for the most, their ships block the Straits of Kistan.

[And also to the south, across the Avagon Sea came the Chabbains, and they invaded Jugo and Pellar.

[Meanwhile, the Fists of Rakka have revealed themselves once more, and they swept out from Sarain to take Hum and Alban.]

Phero looked up from the map. [Fists of Rakka?]

[A religious sect,] said Rynna. [Put down long past when a woman from Ryodo rallied the oppressed.]

[And this Rakka…?]

[Another name for Gyphon,] replied Tip, [or so the Lian say.]

[Ah,] said Tynvyr. Then she looked back at the map as Rynna continued:

[Together, these four nations-Hyree, Kistan, Chabba, and Sarain-control the Karoo, Khem, Thyra, Hum, Alban, Vancha, Tugal, and parts of Hoven, Jugo, Valon, and Pellar.] As she named them off, Rynna's hand swept 'round the whole of the Avagon Sea.

[Oh my,] said Picyn, [can things be worse?]

[Things are worse,] said Tipperton. [Atala has been destroyed, and the silver sword is lost.]

[That's right,] said Beau. [And Gyphon has invaded the High Plane, and the ways between are sundered-all but the bloodways-yet that seems neither here nor there to Warrows]-he turned to Tynvyr-[although it might to Pysks.]

Tynvyr shook her head. [We fled from our home to Mithgar and will never go back to our own Plane.]

[Oh?] said Linnet.

All five Pysks nodded grimly, but none added more.

Tynvyr turned to Rynna. [Can you answer my other question? What of the High King?]

[He is hard-pressed in the west. Still, the men of Wellen and Dalara and Thol, of Jute and Gothon and Gelen, and the warriors of Fjordland-who've sailed across the Boreal Sea and 'round to the Ryngar Arm to join Blaine in the fight-they all stand fast, in spite of bad blood between nations.]

[Old adversaries unite against a common foe,] said Farly.

[Enemy of my enemy, enemy of mine,] affirmed Nix.

Rynna frowned at this statement but shrugged and then said, [And the High King prepares a great fleet in the harbors of the shipbuilders along the Weston Ocean-]

[A great fleet? What for?] asked Nia, looking at her mate, Kell. He, in turn, looked at Rynna.

Rynna turned up a hand. [I think he plans on breaking the Rovers' blockade of the Kistanian Straits and invading the occupied lands from the south.]

[If and when he does,] said Nix, [that's the time we War-rows need to rally to his banner and take the fight to these Hyrinians and Kistanians and other men.]

[As well as to the Rucks and Hloks,] added Farly.

Her voice aquaver, Linnet said, [And Ghuls on Helsteeds-and Trolls.]

[And Gargons,] Rynna added, memory drawing her face grim.

Recalling Quadran Pass and Dael, Tip looked 'round at the others and quietly said, [And perhaps a Dragon or two.]

Awed by the enormity of the task, they fell silent a moment, until Beau asked, [And after we've done them all in, then what?]

"Uh oh," whispered Tip, "I think he's got our scent."

Downslope, a horrid being stood among the crags: twelve feet tall, like a giant Ruck, it seemed, but massive and brutish and with a green-scaled skin. But no Ruck was this; instead it was an Ogru, and it snuffled the air, as if to catch the scent of a quarry. And now its glare seemed locked upon the heights above, where lay Tipperton and Beau.

"We've got to get out of here," hissed Tip.

"What about the Rucks?" whispered Beau, pointing rightward, where was sited a maggot-folk sentry post on the ridge crest some two furlongs away.

Still the Troll snuffled the air drifting down from the heights.

"We can only hope they don't spot us," said Tip, glancing up at the February moon, full in the sky above.

The Ogru began climbing up among the crags.

"Let's go," breathed Tip, and down the back slope of the ridge they crept, down toward their ponies waiting in the shadows below.

And then a horn blatted.

"Oh lor', they've seen us," groaned Beau.

"Run!" barked Tip, and through the snow they fled, whiteness boiling in a wake behind.

Again the horn blatted, but its blare was chopped short in midcry.

"Tynvyr," grunted Beau, floundering downward, "or Picyn. Should we stop and help?"

"No," called Tip, scrambling. "Foxes can outrun an Ogru, but we afoot cannot."

And down they fled through cascading snow, to come to their ponies at last. Leaping astride-"Hai!"-away they flew, racing along the snow-laden valley and toward the Greatwood ahead. And as they dashed away, among the crags behind, the Ogru topped the ridge and bellowed in rage and frustration and raved at the winter sky.

March came and with it Springday, and lo! winter began to fade as it had always faded in years past. And folk faced into the warming winds and looked at the sky in wonder, for ever since the detonation of Karak and the destruction of Atala a chill grasp had fallen over all of the seasons… but now it seemed as if that grip had begun to loosen at last.

"Perhaps it's an omen," said Beau.

"Omen?" asked Linnet.

"That a tide has begun to turn somewhere," replied the buccan.

"Oh, I do hope so," replied Linnet, taking Beau's hand and raising it to her cheek.

"It is becoming too dangerous for us to watch from the Rimmen Spur," said Rynna. She looked 'round at the others there in the fog-laden glade as a damp April breeze wafted the mist past. "The Foul Folk patrols have doubled and redoubled again… as well as their sentry posts."

"To say nothing of the Ogrus," added Beau.

"Something is afoot," said Nix.

Farly frowned. "What can it be?"

"I dunno," said Nix, "but something… I can smell it."

Beau laughed, and when the others looked at him, said, "Perhaps it's just maggot-folk you're smelling."

Tip grinned, but then sobered. "Nix is right: something is afoot… else why all this activity? It's been months now that they've stepped up their patrols. They started 'round Winterday, and now spring has come. So what can it be that threatens Modru so?"

"Perhaps it's a way to keep us under control," said Rynna.

Linnet nodded and added, "Cooped in our woods, so to speak."

Tip slowly shook his head and said, "I dunno. Three years past, when we first heard of the Horde on the east of Darda Erynian, we thought it might be to keep the Hidden Ones hemmed in, a way to keep them from joining in the struggle against the Foul Folk. Yet I now believe that it was because Modru knew of the silver sword, and he didn't want Galarun to be able to get it."

Beau frowned in puzzlement. "But the sword was fetched in spite of the Horde, not to say that it isn't lost now. And so why would he keep Foul Folk on this border if it's not to keep the Hidden Ones from joining the High King when the time arrives?"

"Come again?" said Farly. "I got lost somewhere along the way."

Beau sighed. "If the Spawn were here to stop the sword from being fetched but utterly failed, then I ask you this: why are they yet still here?" Farly shrugged, but Beau continued: "The only reason I can think of is to keep the Hidden Ones bottled up."

Rynna slowly shook her head. "I don't think they could do that, Beau. That is, if the Hidden Ones ever decide to march-which I doubt-there just aren't enough maggot-folk to block all the borders of Darda Erynian or the Greatwood and keep them penned in."

"Regardless of why the Spawn are here," said Tipperton, "what are we going to do about the increased patrols and sentry posts?"

No one said aught for long moments, and finally Rynna cleared her throat. "We'll just have to be extra careful… and from now on, none of our patrols should go without Fox Riders scouting ahead. I'll speak to Tynvyr on it."

"I say, why don't we do something to cause them to pull some of their sentries down from the heights?" said Beau.

Rynna looked at Beau. "Such as…?"

"Look, I'm tired of running and hiding and slipping aside, so how about we begin waylaying patrols? -Making them seem to vanish."

Nix frowned. "How would that help?"

Linnet's eyes lit with revelation, and she beamed at Beau. "Oh, don't you see, Nix? By making patrols simply disappear, the others, they won't know what's happening. And they'll add more Spawn to each patrol in the hopes of thwarting whatever may come. And to do that, they'll have to take sentries and patrols away from the heights above."

"Aha!" said Nix, grinning at Beau. "A splendid deceit."

Farly nodded and then added, "I say, we could also send word to the Baeron watchers south and the Dylvana watchers north and have them join in making patrols, um, disappear. Perhaps it would clear out the Rjmmen Spur all the faster."

All eyes turned to Rynna. "On the surface it seems a good plan," she said. "Let me think on it awhile… as well as see what Tynvyr has to say."

"Here they come," whispered Rynna. "Remember, if there are too many, let them pass. We want none to escape, for we would have all other Spawn remain in ignorance."

Rynna then turned to Picyn and repeated her words in Fey. Picyn nodded, then sprang to the back of his fox and gathered shadow about and slipped away in the night.

Past the shoulder of the hill tramped the maggot-folk.

"There's one with a bugle," said Rynna. "Tip."

Tipperton nodded. "I see him. I'll try to take him before he can sound his horn."

In that moment 'round the flank rode a Ghul on Helsteed.

"Barn rats," spat Beau. "A Ghul. We'll have to let them pass."

Rynna nodded, and in the chill April night the stealthy Warrows withdrew.

Two nights later, Tip led his pony toward the eaves of the forest, two slain Rucks draped across the pony's back. Rynna, Beau, Linnet, Nix, and Farly followed, each of them leading ponies also burdened with dead maggot-folk. Into Blackwood they went, where down in the shadows Tynvyr hissed for them to stop. And they shoved the dead Spawn from the ponies and went back onto the wold to take up the remaining three Rupt yet lying where they had been felled.

They reached the point of the ambush, and working swiftly, pulled their own arrows from the corpses-thuck! thuck…! -though, heeding Tynvyr's warning, they left the small lethal shafts of the Fox Riders untouched for fear of their fatal barbs.

As Tip and Beau lifted a dead Ruck up onto the back of a skittish pony now steadied by Rynna, Nix and Farly took up a second slain Ruck and did the same as Linnet soothed that wee mount. The four buccen then turned to the dead Hlok and managed to heft the carcass over a third tremulous pony's back, while the dammen carefully scanned the ground-retrieving scimitars and cudgels and flails and helms and other such-and scuffed over soil stained with dark blood.

Again they returned to Blackwood, and again they shoved the corpses from the ponies to land with sodden thuds next to the others felled that night, Rynna and Linnet pitching down the Ruptish helms and weaponry as well.

They made one last trip back to the wold to see that all evidence of the ambush was gone, and when they returned to Blackwood, the arms and helms and bodies of the maggot-folk were no longer where they had been cast.

Over the next ten weeks, seven Rucken patrols were made to vanish in this sector alone, the Warrows and Pysks waylaying them and haling their corpses into Blackwood, where the Spawn no longer came.

Yet there were also ambushes which they abandoned, for a Troll or Ghul fared among the Spawn patrol, and these foe they shunned altogether-Ogrus being stone-hided, and Ghflls able to take dreadful wounds with little or no effect. And so to maintain the air of mystery-where maggot-folk simply disappeared with no cause evident-they let all such patrols pass unmolested.

Too, in the Greatwood to the south and Darda Erynian to the north, Baeron and Dylvana also waylaid patrols.

By mid-June as maggot-folk were pulled from the sentry posts to augment the vigilance along the eastern wold, Ruptish watchers became sparse along the Rimmen Spur, and Spaunen squads roved the ridges but sporadically, though Ogrus continued to wander along the high slopes and snuffle the air for spies. And so the patrols along the fringes of Darda Erynian and Darda Stor were strengthened, doubling and tripling in size, though the maggot-folk yielded even wider berth to these shadowy woods.

And although the Warrows and Pysks needed to exercise great caution when faring across the wold and in the heights above, still everything was going according to plan.

Summerday came-the summer solstice-and Fox Riders and Warrows alike celebrated together, unlike the ceremonies of the equinoxes, where the Pysks were guided by the moon rather than the sun.

For Pysks dedicated spring and fall to Elwydd, and they celebrated by Her light, holding their rites on the night of the full moon nearest each equinox.

But Summerday and Winterday were dedicated to Adon and the sun, and so the Pysks celebrated the solstices along with other Mithgarian folk…

… and now Summerday had come.

And it was on this day as well that the ground grumbled with a glad message sent from the aggregate of Eio Wa Suk nigh Bircehyll in the north: Crestan Pass had been freed at last, the Foul Folk driven away. Baeron and Dyl-vana were returning to Darda Erynian for a temporary rest, for war yet burned upon Mithgar, and their arms were needed elsewhere. Even so, even though they would yet be marching to war, still it was glad news indeed.

And so, in addition to a celebration of the turning of the seasons, and in addition to the Warrows celebrating the birthdays of everyone who'd had a birthday in the past year, Year's Long Day also became a victory celebration as well.

In the glade of the campsite, there was food and drink and singing and dancing, all to the lively melodies Tip and Rynna played-he on his lute, she on her pennywhistle- and the end of each tune was met with a resounding cheer. Song after song they played, throughout the afternoon. And as twilight fell Tipperton called wee Lark to him, the tot and Melli having come from the holding of the Springwater Warrows to celebrate Summerday. Lark was now two years old and a bit, and she stood seventeen inches tall. And as she sat at the feet of her da, Tip smiled down at her and began a haunting melody-Rynna softly accompanying him-and to the wonder and delight of all, Lark sang a wordless song in perfect accord, her voice now and again taking on the rustle of leaves in the wind.

It was as Tip played and sang the Elven song of the changing of the seasons, that Farly and Tynvyr and Picyn came riding through twilight and into the glade. And when the song was finished, Farly took Rynna and Tip aside and said, "Something is afoot in the Rimmens."

"Something afoot?" said Tip.

"What?" asked Rynna.

"I dunno," said Farly, "but there's a lot of movement."

"Movement?"

"Right. Foul Folk seen moving eastward."

"Eastward, eastward," muttered Tip. "What lies eastward?"

All gathered 'round in the candlelight as Tip laid out his maps on the small table. Once again Pysks stood about the edges, where they could see.

[This movement: where is it?] asked Tip.

[Up near the headwaters of the Rissanin,] said Farly, pointing into the Rimmen Ring. [Moving east within the crags.]

[Who brought this news?] asked Rynna, looking across at Tynvyr.

[Phero,] replied the Pysk. [She was scouting out the latest placement of Spaunen sentry posts when movement caught her eye. Great numbers of the Foul Folk move eastward, and they follow an old route where wagons can go, a supply train in their midst.]

[Where are they bound, I wonder?] asked Beau.

Tip shuffled his sketches about and then said, [Well, directly to the east lies Garia. It's mostly mountains-the Skarpals-where DelfLord Borl was killed. But why they would go there…]

[Oh, Tip, to the east also lies Bridgeton,] said Beau, stabbing a finger to the map. [Could that be their aim?]

Tip turned up his hands. [We won't know until we track them.]

[Track them?] Rynna looked at Tip, her eyes wide.

[Yes, love,] replied Tip. [Someone has to see what they are up to, and who better than us?]

"We are better at this than you," came a voice speaking Common.

Tip and the others turned. Aylissa stood in the doorway. Beside the wee Pysk were two others, two Pysks neither Tip nor Beau nor any of the Warrows had seen before.

"Lady Aylissa," exclaimed Tipperton.

Aylissa smiled. "Sir Tipperton, Lady Rynna, may I present my sire and dam: Mistress Jinnarin and Master Farrix, once of Darda Glain of Rwn, an isle that is no more."

"There they are," murmured Rynna.

Tip's gaze followed her outstretched arm. In the light of a last-quarter moon just now rising in the east, along an old trail through the stony mountains wended a column of Foul Folk.

"How many can there be?" asked Beau.

"Four, five hundred or so, I gauge," said Nix.

"No no, Nix. What I meant to ask was, how many have passed this point in the ten days since they were first spotted?"

"Oh," said Nix. "As to that, who can say?"

"Perhaps they are fleeing the fall of Crestan Pass," said Linnet.

Farrix shook his head. "Nay, Lady Linnet. They were on the move ere then. Marching south from the Grimwall, nigh where it joins the Gronfangs. We came to warn you."

"As you can see, we are not the ones who need warning," said Tipperton, "but someone east."

Rynna turned to Aylissa and Jinnarin and Farrix. "You must outpace them if possible and warn the folk at Bridge-ton, should that seem to be their goal."

Aylissa nodded, but it was Farrix who replied. "Aye. We'll see where it is they are bound, but if it is somewhere past the Rimmens, we'll turn back after seeing that others carry the word beyond."

Beau frowned and said, "I say, by going to Bridgeton it seems you are not as shy about your presence as are the other Fox Riders we know."

Jinnarin laughed. "Not so, Sir Beau, although I must admit we may be bolder than most, for we have travelled around the world"-she reached out and took Farrix's hand-"Farrix and I, in Aravan's ship, the Eroean. Even so, it was necessity which drove us to such an uncommon act. And though we have sailed the world, still we let not just anyone see us, for our kind fear a repeat of foul deeds done to us long past. Yet, when necessity commands, there are those we turn to in trust: Elvenkind, Magekind, the Baeron… and now some Waerlinga. But even these we shun in ordinary times, lest our presence become commonplace.

"As to this mission, there are Baeron in the woods south of Bridgeton, and it is they whom we will ask to bear a warning unto the citizens of that town. Too, I deem they will carry on should we need give up the chase."

Beau smiled. "Oh, I see."

Rynna knelt. "You'll come back when you discern their goal."

Aylissa nodded. "Indeed, Adon willing, we shall return. Yet as to their goal, that we may never divine, for foul Modru drives them, and none knows his mind but his vile master Gyphon… and mayhap not even Him."

"Come," said Farrix. "We must hie." And he called his fox unto his side, Aylissa and Jinnarin doing likewise.

"Good fortune," said Linnet, as the Pysks mounted up, their tiny bows slung across their backs, wee lethal arrows in quivers at each of their hips, diminutive knapsacks slung across their shoulders and hanging at their sides.

"Good fortune to you as well," said Jinnarin.

And with cries of "Hai, Rux!" and "Hai, Rhu!'" and "Hai, Vex!" the trio of riders darted away, the foxes scrambling down the back of the ridge through moonlight aslant and toward the foothills below.

A week passed, and then another, and then another still, and yet no word came from Aylissa or her sire or dam.

And still Spawn moved through the Rimmens, heading east, though their numbers diminished.

Toward the end of the seventh week there occurred a most peculiar thing: the Foul Folk patrols and sentries vanished from the eaves of Darda Erynian and the Greatwood: none were seen north or south on the wold nor in the Rimmens above.

Over the following month or so, cautious scouts searched along the wold and in the Rimmen Spur, yet no Spawn did they see.

And still Aylissa and Jinnarin and Farrix had not returned.

"Where have they gone?" asked Linnet, as she and Beau carried a table out from the withy bower, a table which soon would be laden with food for the Autumnday celebration. Beau shrugged his shoulders but otherwise did not reply.

Rynna, carrying a tablecloth, gestured toward the risen sun of the September morn as it burned away the lingering threads of mist in the vale, though vaporous filaments yet tarried among the trees. "Mayhap east through the Rimmens… following the others."

Nix growled, "I said it before, and I'll say it again: something foul is afoot."

"I agree, but what?" asked Farly.

Before Nix could answer, from the east there sounded a black-oxen horn.

"Oh my," said Rynna, dropping the cloth and snatching up her bow from where it leaned against the bower. "That's Tip's horn."

She set an arrow to string, and her companions did likewise, all but Beau who laded a stone in his sling. And as they spread wide in a defensive stance, bursting out from the mist-entwined trees came Tipperton riding at a gallop, Kell on a fox running at his side. Tip set his horn to his lips once more and again belled its resonant cry.

"The High King!" shouted Tipperton. "The High King has called!"