And now they had come down to the foothills and were striding along the Landover Road, and it was midmorning, and Cotton was commiserating with Anval over the lack of food. Amid torturous groans of longing, they had begun describing various meals to one another: succulent roast pig and chestnuts; woodland grouse in golden honey sauce; fresh trout on a bed of mushrooms. . . . Cotton had just come to the point where he had Anval agreeing that for their next meal they would split between the two of them an entire full-grown spitted cow, when Borin, slightly in the lead, held up his hand for silence as the four of them rounded a curve.
Ahead they could see a thin wraith of smoke rising above the treetops. Borin spoke: "It cannot be a Grg fire, for the Sun is up, and in any case we are too far north for Squam. It could be a traveller, trader, or hunter, or woodsman, though it is late in the day for a breakfast fire but early for a midday meal. It may not be a cook fire at all. but an encampment instead. Be wary and speak not of our mission, for even innocent tongues if captured can betray our plans." With that admonition they again started eastward.
Soon they came to the vicinity of the smoke and found what appeared to be a small unattended fire with four rabbits roasting above it on green-branch spits. They were looking on in wolfish hunger when Lord Kian stepped forth from behind a broad tree trunk. "What ho, boon companions!" he called with exaggerated formality as he made a low sweeping bow, "won't you partake with me this fine repast 7 " and then he burst out laughing as his messmates scrambled to join him.
After the meal. Cotton fetched both horses from the grassy glade where they had been tethered to graze and led them as the fellowship walked together along the Landover Road, caught up in conversation. They had gone east nearly eight more miles when they came to a stone cottage that served the Baeron as a toll station and Passwarden house.
In days of old. the Baeron, a sturdy clan of stalwart Men. had kept the Crestan Pass and the Landover Road Ford and the road in between clear of Rucks and Hloks and other Spawn, and safe for travellers and merchants; for this service, the Baeron charged tolls. But after the fall of Modru, the Foul
TREK TO KRAGGEN-COR ~
Folk bved no longer in this region. The Baeron then took to keeping the rood through the Crestan Pass clear of landslides and rockfalls. and to helping wayfarers and then cargoes safely through the ford in the flood season; and they continued to charge tolls.
Each year a different family came from the Baeron Holds in Danfe Et-ynian to tend the Crestan Pass, arriving on April the first—a few weeks before the spring melt opened the col for travel—and returning to the Great GreenhaD Forest in autumn, when the high snows again closed the wa the winter. This year Baru was Passwarden, and he lived with his three tall sons in the wnaM ::::; cofc
The four Baeron were pleased to see Lord Kian and the two) Dwarves return over the pass, for Baru had wished them well when they had gone west through the gap toward the BoskvdeDs on their "King's business" a month and a week and a day agone. Glad though they were to once more greet the and the Dwarves, the passkeepers were amazed to meet Perry and Cotton, for they had never before seen Waldana, and the small Folk were creatures of legend to the Baeron—harking back to the ancient time of the derjahre when the Wee Folk had passed over the Argon on then journey west and south and west again, searching for a homeland
Travel was halted, and traveller and roadkeeper alike paused to pass the news over a pot of tea. The Baeron also provided the wayfarers with some delicious dark bread covered with spnng-cold butter that stuck to the ribs and filled up some hollow spots,
they took this meal together, Lord Kian told Baru of the rock slide in the pass, mentioning that now there was scree on the roadway. Baru nodded and poured more tea and passed more bread to the wayfarers, and he cocked an eye at his sons and they nodded back, realizing that a job needed doing up in the col.
en while Perry enjoyed the dnnk and tea-bread along with everyone eke, be noted that Baru and his sons treated Lord Kian with a deep and abiding respect, almos: m were then sovereign King. Curious, thought F
The Baeron Men seemed to know about the maggot-folk in deeve and the Dwarves' pledge, for they spoke of the Spawn raids and
al and Borin success in their venture. No fresh news had come to Bora from the south, which was not surprising, for most of his tidings came from travelling merchants faring to cross the Crestan Pass, and it was rare for anyone to attempt to go through this late in the year Though Baru had no news from the south, he asked that a message be earned to the marches: "Sire, should you meet with our kinsman, I rsor. quest," said Baru to Lord Kian. we ask that you tell him that ail is wel at home, and trust that his vengeance against the Wrg goes to his satisfaction." Perry reasoned that one of the Baeron was off fighting Dnmmen-deeve Spawn, seeking revenge for some deed committed by the
one of the raids; but before more was said, it was time to leave—time to continue on to the east.
"Well now, m'Lord," observed Baru, "all your supplies went over the edge with your waggon. We've not much, yet you're welcome to take what food you need to stretch over the next two or three days—til your rendezvous with King Durek."
"My thanks, Passwarden," responded Kian, knowing that Baru and his sons would require mostrof their own meager provisions to see them through until they were home again in Darda Erynian. The young Man hefted his bow. "I can fell enough small game to keep us in meat, but perhaps some crue or hardtack would go well—"
"And some tea, please," interjected Cotton, slurping the dregs of his and setting the cup to the table, popping one last bit of bread into his mouth.
Swiftly, Grau, the eldest son, gathered up the rations and handed them over to Cotton, who had stepped forward to take them.
And so they all stood and filed out of the cottage and into the bright sunshine, Cotton packing the fare into his knapsack. And while the comrades made ready, Baru and his sons also prepared to go, to hike up into the pass to clear away the rubble from the slide.
As the travellers stepped out onto the road, Rolf, the middle son, approached Anval and respectfully said, "Sir Dwarf, you must advise Durek to hurry if he is to go over the mountain, for winter comes early in the high peaks; the frost is now with us down here, which means that the first snow will soon block the Crestan Pass." Anval nodded curtly, and then all the companions said farewell and set off again for the far rendezvous.
They started down the Road with Perry's thoughts still dwelling on these Men. Though the visit had been short, Perry had concluded that the Baeron would make good comrades in time of need. The buccan also reflected on the curious, deferential way the passkeepers had treated Kian, but before Perry could ask the young Lord as to the reason, the Daelsman had taken up his bow and remounted Brownie and galloped away to seek their supper.
The rest of the comrades marched swiftly throughout the day, and in the dusk an hour after sundown they once more came to where Lord Kian was encamped. Again he had been skillful with his bow, having downed a brace of grouse and three more rabbits.
Cotton tethered Brownie and Downy out in the rich grass of the wold and watched them as they began to eagerly crop their first substantial meal since noon of the previous day, for all of their grain had been swept away by the rockslide. Satisfied, the buccan returned to the campsite, his stomach rumbling, for the aroma of game on the spit filled the air.
The companions had covered some thirty-one miles that day, and had emerged from the foothills and were well out upon the open plains—twenty-nine miles from the Argon River ford crossing. The Warrows were bone-weary, unaccustomed as they were to climbing over a mountain on one day
and forcing march all the next; but though they were tired, they fell to the meal with a voracity that would have done a lion proud. Shortly they were sound asleep, and Kian, Anval, and Borin let the buccen slumber the night through without waking them to stand their turns at guard—much to the vexation of the Warrows the next morning.
All day the comrades advanced acros
s plains that gradually fell into the valley of the Argon. Perry and Cotton and Anval and Borin tramped through a land of heather and grasses, with only an occasional hill to break the monotony of the flat, featureless country. Now and again they would flush a pheasant or covey of birds from beside the road, or surprise a fox trotting across their way, but for the most part they marched without interruption on flat, open prairie, silent except for the sigh of the chill wind that swept from the mountains and rippled low through the tall grass. Again, Kian on Brownie ranged ahead with his bow, providing meat to go with the tea and hardtack given to them by Baru. In this fashion they came to where they could see on the horizon the four-mile-wide belt of trees lining the Argon River; and they knew their journey would soon come to an end.
As their march slowly drew them nearer, they saw that there was little green left in the foliage of the river-border woodland, the fall having worked its magic to transform the leaves into yellow and gold, scarlet and russet, bronze and brown. The only green was in the evergreens: spruce, pine, cedar, yew, hemlock, and the like, clumped here and there in the river-vale forest: like living jade and emeralds among reaches of topaz and spinel and ruby 'mid burnished bronze and old leather.
In late afternoon they walked under the eaves of the river-vale forest, and then came at last to the banks of the Great River Argon. It flowed past in a wide shallow crossing—Landover Road Ford—and the companions stood and watched the river's progress, and Cotton marveled at its breadth.
Durek and the Army had not yet come, and so camp was pitched on the verge of a grassy clearing in the woods, just a stone's throw north of where the road met the river, where the wind from the plains did not reach, though it could be heard swirling through the overhead treetops. They had made the journey from the Boskydells to the ford in twenty-one days, a time that would have been somewhat less but for the flood at Arden Ford. It was now the last day of October, and Durek was due on the morrow, the first of November.
That night the Warrows again slept deeply, for they were weary; but they stood their turn at watch, having vociferously lectured their companions on the meanings of duty, honor, and the right to stand guard. It was quite a sight to see young Cotton, hands on hips in a defiant stance, his jaw out-thrust, glaring up at the towering, smiling Lord Kian and telling the Man just "where to head in" when it comes to doing a turn at watch. And so it was
that they spent the night, and finally Cotton awakened them all with the coming of the Sun.
In the early morning light Lord Kian took a length of twine from his pack and caught up his bow and quiver and went through the frost to the pools in the river shallows. Shortly he was back at the campsite bearing three large trout, having shot them with an arrow tied with a retrieval line.
After the breakfast of fresh fish, again the Man and two Warrows took up the sword lessons. The buccen had not practiced since the Arden Ford crossing, and this would perhaps be their last chance: "When Durek comes we begin the long march to Drimmen-deeve," said Kian. "There will be little or no time for practice, so when next you take up weapons it will be against the foe."
A thrill of fear shot through Perry at Kian's words, and his heart beat heavily, and his face became flushed, for he thought, This is it. It is really going to happen. War with the maggot-folk. Me! Fighting Spawn/
All that day the buccen practiced with their true swords. They had to learn the weight and balance of their own weapons, and so new wooden swords were not made to replace the old ones that had been lost when the waggon slid off the mountain. Except for the lesson of sword against quarterstaff, they did not engage in mock battle; Lord Kian did not want to risk an accidental wound to any of them. With staves, however, Kian demonstrated how a warrior with the extraordinary reach of a staff was indeed a formidable foe. Spaunen were not known to use light quarterstaffs, preferring instead heavy iron poles; and the strategy against those was similar to that used when fighting a hammer. But against a good staff, the sword wielder must depend doubly upon his agility and quickness and wait for an opening to get at close quarters with the foe in order to win.
At the end of the day the Warrows had developed an excellent feel for their weapons—which were much better balanced than the swords of wood and seemed lighter—and so the already quick Warrows became even swifter. Their skill level was extraordinarily high for such a short period of training, and Kian was well pleased.
But the revelation of the day was the sharpness of Perry's sword, Bane. Its edge was bitter indeed, and the point keen beyond reckoning. The rune-jewelled Elven-blade had sheared through or mutilated several quarterstaffs wielded by Kian, and a thrust of little effort would plunge it deeply into the heart of a nearby fallen tree. "Why, it's a wonder, Sir, that it doesn't cut itself right out of its own scabbard!" exclaimed Cotton.
Finally it was sundown, and still Durek had not arrived. The comrades supped again upon Argon trout, then settled down for the eventide. When Perry's turn at guard came, Borin awakened him and growled, "Keep a sharp watch with those Utruni eyes of yours, Waeran; the horses seem restless,
though I have neither heard nor seen aught. Still, Wolves may be about, so stand ready." Borin then curled up in his cloak and blanket near the fire and soon was breathing slowly and deeply as sleep overtook him.
Perry stood in the shadows high on the bank and watched the river flow past, glittering silver in the pale light streaming from the waning Moon. Trie wind had died, and all was still except for the low murmuring of the water. Quiet enough to hear a pinfeather fall, thought the buccan. He stood and watched the Moon rise slowly toward the zenith, and the water glide by, and he was content: a small figure in silveron mail with belted sword and Elven cloak; he was a helmed warrior—untested, to be sure, but warrior still, or at least so he hoped, for he had thought long on Anval's words of warning and had tried to concentrate on survival rather than glory.
His watch was just drawing to a close and he was contemplating awakening Anval when he heard . . . something. It was faint and just at the edge of perception. He could sense rather than hear it: a slow, heavy movement nearby. Where? He searched with his eyes and ears, trying to quell the thudding of his heart. There! On the other side of the river! Something vast and dark was coming through the woods and moving slowly toward the ford. Perry slipped noiselessly to the encampment and roused Anval, finger to the Dwarf's lips. "Shhh! Listen! Something comes!" Perry whispered.
Dwarf and Warrow listened together: there came a faint jingle of metal from afar. "Hist, " breathed Anval, "that was the sound of armor. We are far north of Drimmen-deeve, yet it could be foul Grg raiders. We waken our comrades—silently."
Anval awakened Borin and Kian while Perry raised up Cotton, and the five slipped quietly into the shadows, armed and armored. Perry's heart was pounding so loudly he wondered why the others did not hear its beat. The horses stamped restlessly, and Cotton started to slip away to quieten them, to prevent a whinny; but Lord Kian grasped the Waerling's shoulder and whispered that their campfire had already shouted out their presence. So the comrades lay in the dark and stared hard through the gloom at the far bank —the source of subdued noise and hidden movement. Then in the wan moonlight they could make out dark shapes of figures coming slowly down the road to the river's edge, and they heard a strong voice call out twice, "Chakka dok! Chakka dok!"
At this sound, with a wild neigh, one of the horses belled a challenge, or pealed a welcome; but Anval and Borin leapt up and shouted for joy and rushed for the river. They had recognized the hidden language, for it was the command "Dwarves halt! Dwarves halt!" And they knew that Durek and the Army had come at last.
CHAPTER 12 THE COUNCIL OF DUREK
Lord Kian called after Anval and Borin, his words catching them at the river's edge. "Hold!" he counseled. "Go not into the current in darkness; wait for the dawn."
And so the Dwarves waited, impatiently, and neither side crossed the river that night. They hailed greetings to one another, for the sound car
ried well and voices across the water could be readily understood. Durek came down to the far bank, and he and Borin spoke back and forth, with Borin indicating that the Boskydells trip had met with success, and Durek saying that the Army would ford the river at dawn to camp and rest for a day or so while the Council of Captains met to hear what had been learned and to plan the campaign accordingly. After a time the comrades wisely returned to camp to catch what sleep remained, while the Army bedded down on the far side along the flanks of the road.
At dawn Cotton awakened Perry. "Mister Perry, hurry, Sir," Cotton urged, "they're starting across." Perry bolted up, and the two buccen scrambled to join Anval, Borin, and Lord Kian on the bank where Landover Road ran up out of the river. In the dim early light they could see a group of horsemen ride into the water and come splashing across at a rapid pace.
"Vanadurin!" cried Lord Kian, pleased. "Riders of Valon! Scouts for Durek's Army." And with but a swift glance at the five companions, the horsemen charged up and out of the river, and fanned wide as they rode into the woods beyond, their grim sharp eyes seeming to see everything and miss nothing.
"Lor!" breathed Cotton, watching the steel-helmed, spear-bearing, tall, fair Harlingar thunder past on their fleet steeds, "you can't tell where the horse leaves off and the Man begins. Why, they're all of one piece!"
"Ho! Brytta! Hai roil" Kian called out to one of the riders, who sharply wheeled his great black horse around and checked it, seeming to stop and dismount at one and the same time.
"Lord Kian! Hail and well met!" cried the blond warrior, Brytta, a great smile beaming upon his broad features, his quick bright eyes dancing as he clasped the Daelsman by the forearm. The Man of Valon was in his early middle years, and, like his brethren, he held a spear in one hand, while a long-knife was at his belt; the fiery black steed bore Brytta's saber in a saddle scabbard on the left, while an unstrung bow and a quiver of arrows were affixed on the right. Brytta's helm flared darkly with raven's wings upon each side, and he was clothed in leathern breeks while soft brown boots shod his feet. A fleece vest covered his mail-clad torso, and a black-oxen horn depended at his side by a leather strap across his chest and one shoulder. Perry thought that he had never seen anyone look quite so magnificent, for here was a warrior bred.
Trek to Kraggen-Cor Page 13
