Into the Forge hc-1

by Dennis L Mcciernan

I cannot. I have a promise to fulfill to a dead Kingsman.

  Come with me.

  I cannot, for I have my own pledge to carry out, an oath taken when Springwater was destroyed.

  Wait for me.

  Wait for me.

  I will, my buccaran.

  I will, O dammia mine.

  And they made sweet, gentle love again.

  Dawn came.

  Horses and ponies were saddled and mules laden with gear and fare-grain for the animals, and rations for Li an and Waerlinga.

  And Rynna gave over the gift of three red-fletched arrows to Tipperton, arrows with a woven collar of scarlet bark at the head.

  As Tip accepted them he asked, "What are these?"

  "Signal arrows," replied Rynna. "Light them and loose them into the sky. They make a bright crimson flare and leave a burning streak in the air behind. You never know when you may need one."

  "Oh, Ryn, I have nothing to give you in exchange."

  "You've given me yourself and that is enough. Just promise me you'll return."

  "I will come when the coin is delivered," said Tipperton, placing the arrows in his quiver.

  Rynna nodded and tried to smile brightly.

  Tipperton took up his lute and tied it to the rear cantle and then stepped back from the pony and looked it over. All seemed ready. Then he turned to Rynna and embraced her. "Stay safe, my dammia," he whispered, his voice husky.

  "Take care, my buccaran," she whispered back.

  Tip glanced at Loric, and at a nod, they began walking the steeds across the bailey and toward the gate, Phais leading, Loric next, then Beau, with Tip and Rynna coming last.

  Through the jinking passage under the wall they went, the animal hooves aclatter upon the stone way, Tipperton dreading what was to come.

  "She was right, you know," said Tip above the clack and chatter and echo of shod hooves.

  "Who was right?" asked Rynna.

  "Phais. She said that war sunders friend from friend and lover from lover, and although I always believed it was so, never did I think it would happen to me."

  Rynna sighed and nodded, but said nothing in return.

  Somewhere above a horn sounded, its clarion call ringing down through the murder holes.

  Ryn raised an eyebrow and glanced at Tip and took an arrow from the quiver at her hip. " 'Tis an alert, though not a battle cry."

  Hastily, Tip retrieved his Elven bow from its saddle scabbard and set one of his own arrows to string, while Beau laded his sling.

  They came out from under the wall and onto the pontoon bridge. Both Tipperton and Rynna scanned the edge of the woods lying a distance beyond the opposite bank, but Beau said, "Oh, look," and pointed downriver.

  A number of small boats laden with men and plied by oars came rowing upstream.

  "What is it?" asked Tipperton, turning to Ryn.

  "I don't know, but we'd better be ready for whatever comes."

  Loric and Phais began backing the steeds toward the fortress walls, the mules protesting yet grudgingly moving hindward, balking now and then. "Back," called Phais. "Take shelter, for we know not what this portends."

  But in that very moment in one of the boats a man stood and held up his empty hands and cried out: "Safe haven! Safe haven!"

  "I don't like this one bit, Ryn. These are Rivermen."

  Rynna looked at Tip and whispered back, "Are we to deny them shelter just because of something their ancestors did long past?"

  "But Rivermen were adherents of Gyphon once, and who's to say they haven't fallen back on those evil ways?"

  "Are the sins of the ancestors to be visited upon the descendants?"

  "Oh, Ryn, it's just that I don't want to leave you in any danger."

  "Tipperton, O my Tipperton, in times such as this no place is safe."

  Even as Tipperton and Rynna whispered back and forth, while the bulk of the Rivermen remained outside, their leaders negotiated with Silverleaf and Aravan, and on the walls above, Waerlinga stood with arrows nocked and ready, yet with bowstrings undrawn.

  At last Silverleaf signed that all was well, and arrows were placed back in quivers and bows unstrung.

  Phais and Loric came to Tip and Beau and Ryn. "Vani-dar has granted them temporary sanctuary. Aravan is to go with a warband to Olorin Isle to see if their tale rings true, and if necessary across the river to Darda Galion beyond to discover what the march-ward has seen. In this mission as in all others, Rynna, he will need scouts."

  Rynna nodded, then asked, "What tale do they tell, these Rivermen?"

  "That Foul Folk came downstream and plundered and raided and slew, and these Rivermen were all who escaped with their lives."

  Rynna sighed. "Foul Folk, eh? Perhaps some of those we chased down the Argon."

  "I thought you slew them all," said Tip.

  "So did I, yet it may be that some escaped, or perhaps some went downstream before we came upon the others."

  "Regardless," said Phais, glancing up at the midmorn-ing sun and then at Tip and Beau, " 'tis time we were on our way."

  "With the Rivermen here?" protested Tip.

  Phais glanced at Rynna and nodded grimly. "This fortress is in good hands."

  "Well, I don't like it one bit," said Tip.

  "Nevertheless…"

  Now Rynna turned to Tip. "We'll be fine, my love. Besides, you said it yourself, that ever in war friends and lovers are parted, as we are about to be. Yet the sooner started, the sooner you'll return to me." She took a deep breath, as if to ready herself for a blow, and then said, "Now be on your way."

  Tip looked at her, his eyes wide and mingled with anguish and concern. But at last he nodded.

  And so, once again the four companions along with Rynna led their horses and mules and ponies under the wall and onto the pontoon bridge, this time gaining the far bank.

  And Ryn hugged Beau and kissed him on the cheek and whispered for him to watch after her Tipperton, and he whispered back that he would.

  And then she turned to Tip, and they embraced and kissed one another.

  And while they held each other this one last time, Loric and Phais and Beau all mounted and rode to the edge of the woods, where they stopped and waited.

  "I love you, Rynna Fenrush."

  "And I love you, my buccaran."

  Tipperton sighed and released his dammia, and she reluctantly let him go. He mounted his pony and then leaned down and kissed her once more. "Take care, my love. Take care."

  She stepped away, tears in her eyes, and with a choked farewell he spurred after the others and into the woods beyond. When she could see him no more, she turned and, weeping, trudged across the wooden bridge and into Caer Lindor, while on the banks Rivermen unladed their craft and carried their goods within.

  Chapter 29

  North they rode away from Caer Lindor, Tip morose, Loric and Phais delighting in the green of Darda Erynian, Beau timorously looking this way and that, for not only was this Darda Erynian-Greenhall Forest-this was also Blackwood, where Hidden Ones are said to dwell, and everyone knew that Hidden Ones were… were… well, they just were. And if you went into their "closed places," then you most likely would never be seen alive again, or so Aunt Rose had always said when speaking of those places in the Weiunwood.

  "Birds and wild things," she would say, "deer, hare, foxes, voles, and other such, things that fly, run, crawl, slither-even snakes-for them to live in those places or just to wander through, well, that's all right. But for folk to intrude-" Here Aunt Rose would always shudder, and Beau's eyes would fly wide, trying to imagine the horrible fate of any who would be so foolish.

  And now here he was, riding right through the heart of their domain. And he twitched and started at every movement, every sound, some imagined, some not, and looked all 'round, trying to see, trying to see, well, he just didn't know quite what, but trying to see regardless.

  But as it had been when they had crossed through that southernmost corner of Blackwood, going from the ferry
landing to the fortress of Caer Lindor, Beau saw nought except perhaps flickers of movement at the corners of his eyes, yet when he looked straight-on, it seemed nothing was there but shadows coiling 'round the feet of the trees.

  "It gives me the shivers, it does."

  Tip roused a bit. "What? What did you say?"

  "I said, Tip, it gives me the shivers." Beau gestured all 'round.

  "These woods?"

  "Yar."

  Tip sighed and nodded, but said nothing more, as they rode onward through the sun-dappled green galleries of the forest, with its birds flitting from limb to limb and voles rustling through leaves, and hares bounding away as the horses and mules and ponies approached.

  All that day they rode northerly, their track paralleling the waters of the Rissanin, Tip's gaze turning ever and again toward the river flowing in the opposite direction, southerly and away. Toward my Rynna.

  Now and again Loric or Phais would turn sharply-left at times, rightward at others-to ride 'round a section of woods… sometimes a stand of trees-oaks, birch, maple, pine, and the like-other times they would bypass an open sward, a pool or stream, a rocky outcrop, or other such, as if deliberately avoiding these places.

  Tip paid no heed, but Beau knew, indeed, Beau knew… or so he thought.

  "We will make for Bircehyll," Phais said during one of their frequent pauses.

  "Bircehyll?" asked Beau.

  "Aye. 'Tis where Coron Ruar will be, or so I think."

  "Another Coron?"

  "Aye. Of the Dylvana."

  "What some call the wood Elves," added Loric, "for they are more reclusive than we Lian, seldom venturing forth from their Dardas."

  "Lady Arin ventured forth," said Tip, momentarily emerging from his gloom.

  Beau frowned, trying to remember.

  "The Dragonstone," said Tip.

  "Oh, yes," said Beau, enlightened. "She was a Dylvana, eh?"

  "Indeed," said Phais, glancing into the nosebag of her horse. "Ah, the grain is gone."

  Sighing, Tip stepped to his pony. Its feed was gone as well, and so he unsnapped the bag and slipped it in among the gear as Loric and Phais and Beau did likewise.

  They rode another league or so and then set camp for the night. And during his watch by the light of the fire Tip softly played his lute, remembering… remembering.

  And as he played, wild animals, it seemed, came to listen, or so it appeared, for among the trees eyes could be seen glowing, casting back the flame.

  "I had the strangest dream, Tip."

  "Oh?"

  "I dreamt I was awakened in the night by someone speaking in a strange tongue, and saw Phais conversing with a small shadow, while nearby stood a fox."

  "Mmm. That is strange. Was there any more?"

  "No." Beau chrked his tongue, and his pony picked up the pace a bit, for he and Tip had lagged too far behind the riders ahead. "I must have dreamt I went back to sleep," called Beau over his shoulder.

  Tip shrugged, then chrked his tongue as well.

  Ahead, both Phais and Loric looked at one another and smiled.

  In camp that night they heard foxes barking somewhere off in the woods, the high-pitched yips seeming to come from all quarters.

  Progress was slow through the forest, for unlike Darda Galion with its mossy underfooting and wide-set trees, here the undergrowth was thick and in places the trees seemed to crowd 'round, as if trying to bar the way. Yet now and again they would come to an open glade, or field, or glen-and if they did not detour around it, they would kick the horses and ponies into a swift trot and ride across, the mules protesting at this unseemly gait, yet unable to do aught but follow after, drawn on the tethers tied to the rear cantles of Phais's and Loric's saddles.

  But in one of these open places-a large field covered entirely with mounds, each some eight or ten feet high and twice as wide at the base, each hillock covered with a strawlike yellowish grass, or what seemed to be grass- Phais cautioned the Waerlinga to follow directly behind, and with the animals moving at a walk, she and Loric carefully threaded among the knolls, the buccen coming after.

  Of a sudden, "Oh my," hissed Beau, calling back to Tipperton. "One of them moved, Tip. I swear one of them moved."

  "One of the mounds?"

  "Yes yes, one of the mounds. That one over there."

  Tip looked where Beau pointed. As far as Tip was concerned, the mound looked insignificantly different from all the others, with nothing in particular to single it out.

  "It turned a bit and, I vow, it seemed to, urn, squat somewhat."

  Tip started to speak, but Beau snapped, "And don't tell me I'm imagining things."

  Tipperton closed his mouth and carefully followed in Beau's tracks, while Beau in turn carefully followed Phais and her pack mule, the buccan nervously twitching this way and that in his saddle, as if trying to look all directions at once.

  That night again they heard foxes nearby, and when Tipperton played, eyes shined at him from the dark.

  The following day, even though a grey overcast covered the sky, Tip awakened in a better humor, as if resigned that it would be awhile before he saw his Rynna again.

  And during breakfast he said to Beau: "Just so she's safe, that's all I want, and I can't think of a safer place than Caer Lindor."

  As they resumed their journey northward, down through the trees the rain began falling, leaves catching water in mid plummet but then shedding it down adrip. And although the earth drank it thirstily, still rivulets and streamlets ran underfoot and -hoof. And as the day grew, so did the rain as it fell down and down. Streams rose, their woodland courses running to the brim, some overflowing the banks, and birds sat grumpy and wet among the branches above and now and again shook away water or preened in vain.

  Through it all the comrades continued northward, cloaks wrapped 'round tightly, warding off the wetness, though hair and faces were drenched.

  Yet though it rained, still among the trees along their flanks did silent shadows run.

  That night the rain continued to fall, and the four had no campfire to ward away the wetness, for no dry wood could be found. Even so, Loric erected a pair of lean-tos and they escaped the worst of it.

  By the following morning the rain had stopped, but the forest remained adrip, and as they pushed through the heavily laden branches, rider and horse and mule and pony became thoroughly soaked.

  Turbulent streams raced across the way, shallow for the most part, and here the animals had little trouble crossing. Yet they came to a wide forest tributary of the Rissanin and had to fare upstream several miles to find a shallow enough ford.

  That night again they set a fireless camp, for the wood was drenched, and when Tip played his lute, if there were watchers and listeners, he saw no gleam of eyes.

  In midafternoon of the eighth day after setting out from Caer Lindor, the four came in among what seemed a boundless stand of silver birch, the close-set white trunks marching off before them, with no end in sight.

  " 'Tis a forest within a forest," said Phais, "and here Dylvana dwell."

  "Oh," said Tip. "Is this Bircehyll? The place where we'll see Coron… Coron…?"

  "Ruar," said Loric. "Coron Ruar. And we'll see him if he is at court. But to answer your other question, Bircehyll itself lies a distance ahead, another two leagues or so."

  With serrated green leaves rustling overhead and burbling rivulets flowing below, they rode into the silver birch weald, the trees all around glowing brightly in the afternoon sun, the bark of the clusters lucent in the radiance.

  "Lor'," said Beau, "I thought the twilight of Darda Galion was magical, but this light all about is magical, too."

  Tip nodded. "It seems safe, doesn't it?"

  Beau's mouth dropped open. "Hoy now, but you're right. Not at all like"-Beau looked back over his shoulder-"like Blackwood behind."

  "I think it's the light," said Tip. "After all, we're still in Black wood."

  "Oh no we're not. Phais said it herself
: a forest in a forest, that's what it is, and I'll thank you to not tell me otherwise."

  Tip laughed and turned to fetch his lute, and soon a lively tune sprang from the argent strings as they rode among silver birch.

  The day waned as they rode onward, and before them the land began to rise. "Bircehyll," said Loric, pointing at the gentle slope, and up the incline they fared. And as the sun sank below the horizon and twilight crept upon the land, they came in among white-stone, thatch-roofed cottages, dwellings much the same as those in Arden Vale as well as those in Wood's-heart, and these were lighted with lanterns, glowing yellow as evening fell. Dylvana paused in whatever tasks they were doing, Darai and Alori watching as on upward rode the four, and the comrades could see that here, too, just as in Darda Galion, just as in Arden Vale, Elves were preparing to set out on some campaign, for they polished armor and sharpened blades and checked riding tack and gear.

  "Why is it," Beau asked, "that every time we come to an Elvenholt, they seem to be on the verge of riding to battle? Do we bring this down on their heads? If so, then I suggest next time we pass them entirely by."

  Loric smiled and said, "The war is wide, my friend. The war is very wide."

  On upward they pressed, and now Tip could see that the crest of the hill was bare of dwellings, and the clusters of silver birch trees thereon were sparse and widely spaced.

  Loric did not ride across the crown of the mound but circled 'round instead.

  At last on the north side of the hill they came to the Coron Hall, this too a thatch-roofed building, long and low and wide.

  Coron Ruar at a slender five foot three stood an inch shorter than Phais. His hair was dark brown, as were his eyes, and the clothes he wore were dark brown as well.

  He slid the coin back across to Tipperton. " 'Tis quite the tale ye tell, yet I know nought of what this token means." As Tip retrieved the coin, Ruar turned to Phais. "Aye, we knew that Draedani walk among the Hordes, though not the fact that Skail of the Barrens and mayhap other renegade Drakes have sided with Modru. Tis ill news indeed. Yet heed, this I do know: thy chances of winning through to Aven are enhanced if ye ride with us."

  "Join thy forces?" asked Phais.

  "Aye, for we will soon hie north, where the Baeron muster, and thence into Riamon to help break the siege on Mineholt North."