Into the Forge hc-1

by Dennis L Mcciernan

  They set off up the beringing slopes on a northeasterly tack, and just as they reached the crest of a low ridge, someone called out, "Good luck, Waldan! Good luck, Dwarf! May Fyrra amble at your side."

  Tip turned to see Bwen waving, and beyond, Vail and Brandt and Durul and a host of others watching, even Counsellor Tain. And Tip held high his Elven bow, and those below held high clenched fists in response. And then Tipperton looked down to the council circle, where Beau stood waving. Tip waved back and then turned to follow Bekki over the ridge and down, the buccan wondering if a mere three days from now he would survive what was coming. Would he be alive to see any of these folks again, and if so, how many of them would yet live?

  Chapter 35

  B'eau waved as Tipperton held high his Elven bow and then waved back to him. Then Tip turned and disappeared beyond the ridge, and Beau wondered if he would ever see his friend alive again… or if he himself would live beyond the next three days.

  Phais stepped to the Waerling. "Come, Beau, let us see if we can find aught worthwhile to eat." And together with Loric they set out toward the mess wagons, where perhaps some meal better than jerky and crue and plain water could be had… mayhap a green apple or two.

  The following day Beau spent time with Melor, surveying the medicks in one of the hospital wains, making certain they knew all that was there. Too, they assessed those in Beau's bag and added a few for treating wounds in the field.

  And when that was done, Beau walked along the base of the cliffs, and at every stream he searched out round pebbles to add to his slingstone supply, for even though they were not lead shot nor steel, still they would do in a pinch.

  And he practiced slinging at targets, and in this he was not alone, for many an archer practiced at targets as well.

  And Daelsmen and Baeron and Dylvana and Lian drilled with swords and long-knives and lances and spears, and maces and flails and morning stars and hammers.

  And horses were groomed, tack checked, for it would not do to have a rein or cinch or other strap give way at a critical time.

  And they bundled campfire wood, kindling and billets to take with them.

  And in these two days scouts came and went, and the plateau was alive with activity… until in early afternoon of the second day, when at last it was time for the first wave to go.

  And with no wagons among them, the Daelsmen set out.

  After they were gone, Beau fidgeted and paced for eight candlemarks and it seemed as if the signal would never come. But finally a trumpet sounded, and Beau mounted his pony and along with the Dylvana he set out in the second wave.

  And the Baeron stood and watched them go.

  Down from the plateau they rode and out through the narrow pass, and in the lead of the cavalcade rode Ruar and Phais and Loric, all others coming after, with Beau and Melor far back among the ranks riding to war.

  East they turned for Mineholt North, the gape of the valley lying but a mere two leagues away. Wending among rolling hills and crossing stretches of plains they rode, scouts to the fore and showing the way.

  And Tipperton was not among these scouts, for 'twas other duties he filled.

  Two miles they rode and then another, and 'round a mountainous flank, and in the distance ahead stood the wide mouth of the vale. And Beau's heart hammered to see its yawning gape.

  Will it but chew us up and spit us out?

  He did not know.

  Within four candlemarks they had crossed the remaining league and turned northwestward into the gap. And from the slopes ahead there sounded a distant blat of a Rflptish horn, yet what it signified…

  " 'Tis an alert from the Spaunen sentries," said Melor. "They have seen us."

  "Oh, my," said Beau, but no more.

  On they rode and on, up rising slopes and down, riding through swales and over crests across the valley floor.

  And from the fore they could hear a growing noise, as of a thousand voices or more yawling wordlessly.

  At last they topped the final rise, and they could see out before them a mile away ten thousand Rupt jeering and japing at the mere seven hundred Daelsmen standing silent on the slopes below but a half mile away.

  "Oh, my," said Beau, his heart pounding as he scanned the breadth and depth of the enemy lines. "There are so very many of them and we are so few."

  Yet the jeers of the Foul Folk diminished somewhat as the Elves came down the rise, but when the Spawn saw again how few were the foe, their voices rose once more in taunt.

  All was going according to plan.

  The Dylvana rode down the hill to join the Daelsmen, and from within the Swarm a signal sounded, and the Horde stirred.

  Oh, my, are they going to attack?

  Yet it was a shifting of Foul Folk, as more took up positions to the fore of the Swarm.

  Indeed, all was going according to plan.

  Now the Elves dismounted to stand by the Daelsmen, and Beau dismounted as well. And he stood looking at the foe; they seemed without number. And toward the rear of the ranks of the Horde and towering above all stood the Ogrus, six altogether, spread out along the wagons.

  And still the Rucks and Hloks howled in glee, for although the severely outnumbered Daelsmen had been joined by an array of hated Elves, still all the advantage was with the Horde, their count at least five to one.

  And the Elves and Daelsmen yet stood silent, unmoving, as if waiting.

  Beyond the Horde and set into the stone face of the mountain, Beau saw the iron of two great gates. There stood the shut doors into Mineholt North, and he wondered if Tip and Bekki were within.

  Candlemarks passed and the day grew old as the sun ran after a slender crescent moon fleeing down the sky. And yet once again the Ruptish sentry's horn sounded.

  Within another four candlemarks, over the crest behind came riding the Baeron, huge men on huge horses. And the jeering and japing wavered at the sight of these formidable foe.

  And with the Baeron trundled some thirty wagons, fully half of which were hospital wains, while the rest held food and water and weapons.

  Within the Horde, Ghuls on Helsteeds rode together and dismounted, and from a tent and among them came a Ghul afoot and he led what appeared to be a shambling man into the center of them all. And one of the Ghuls sounded a horn, and the Horde fell silent.

  The Ghuls stood quietly, and moments later in their midst the man turned and surveyed the slopes where now stood seven hundred Daelsmen, a thousand Elves, and five hundred Baeron. And then the man turned back to the Ghuls, and it seemed as if they listened closely.

  Now the man was led away from circle center, and again he shambled. A horn sounded, and as the Ghuls rode among the Swarm, Rucks and Hloks took up positions facing the foe standing silent on the slope before them. And no longer did they jape and jeer.

  Twilight came, and within the ranks of the allies a clarion called, and the Daelsmen and Elves and Baeron broke into small groups and set wood for campfires to the ground.

  Beau sighed contentedly when he saw the flames come to life. "Oh, good," he said to Melor, "at last we can have some hot tea."

  And as darkness fell in the vale of the mineholt, the fires of the allies burned on the hillside, and a half mile away the fires of the foe burned as well, as the two armies faced one another and waited for the coming of dawn.

  Chapter 36

  Beyond the crest and down a shallow slope went Tipper-ton, following Bekki as the eventide swept over the world, and glimmering stars began to emerge in the indigo sky above. Through whin and pine they trudged and then up-slope again, the land becoming steeper the farther they trekked, neither Dwarf nor Warrow speaking, but saving their breath for the climb.

  North Bekki turned, due north, up the steep face of a high-angled ridge barren of all but rock, and by the time they reached the top, Tip was panting heavily, Bekki a bit less so. As Tip came over the rise, Bekki pulled him behind a great rock and said, "Here we will pause awhile."

  "But I can go on," puf
fed Tip. "I mean, Lady Phais often pressed us this hard and harder as she taught Beau and me the skills of climbing."

  Bekki only grunted and stood in the darkness at the edge of the huge boulder and looked back the way they had come.

  "What is it?" sissed Tip, clutching his bow and reaching for an arrow. "Are we being followed? By Rucks and such?"

  "Nay, Waeran, it is not the Grg I look for, but sly Daels-men instead."

  "Sly Daelsmen?"

  "Aye. It would give them advantage to know where we are bound, to know of a secret way into Mineholt North."

  "But surely Loden wouldn't send some-"

  "Not Loden, Waeran, but grasp-handed Tain instead."

  "Oh. -Are we going to be long?"

  "A candlemark or so," said Bekki.

  Tipperton shucked his pack and sat down. After a while Tip said, "What is it that Dwarves and the Daelsmen have lying between?"

  Bekki growled. "They would charge us double tariffs: one to move our goods through their city, another to use their docks."

  "Docks?"

  "Aye. On the Ironwater."

  "The river," said Tip, remembering his maps.

  "Aye. By boat and barge, it is the swiftest way to reach the city of Rhondor or the wide Argon Sea beyond, for river legs never tire, but run all day and night."

  "What's in Rhondor?"

  "A good market. It is there we trade for much we need in our crafting, particularly in our forging: siarka, foran, zarn-"

  "Whoa, Bekki, these are things beyond my ken. What is, oh, say, siarka?"

  "The yellow rock: like chalk, it crumbles. We use it to make an etching liquid. In Rhondor it is plentiful, for it lies on the floor of Hel's Crucible for the taking, as do many other ores, nearly pure."

  "Ah," said Tip.

  Now Bekki sat down, yet he kept an eye on their backtrail.

  After a while, Tip said, "And this dispute between your people and the Daelsmen is over tariffs? So you can reach the docks?"

  Bekki grunted but otherwise did not reply.

  "Well, why don't you just not use their docks? Go south from the city and launch lower down."

  Tip could hear Bekki's teeth grind. "King Enrik claims the whole of all rivers in Riamon, and no matter where we would set in he would charge us the double fee."

  "Oh?"

  "Aye. And even though Prince Loden himself pled with his father to return to the old way-to charge but the single docking fee-King Enrik listened instead to Lord Tain."

  "His advisor instead of his own son?"

  "Aye, for Enrik is besotted with Lord Tain's youngest daughter, Lady Jolet, though she looks coldly upon him. It is Brandt she casts her smiles upon. But Brandt favors another, Lady Pietja, though she leads him on, for her eye follows Druker, second in line after Loden. -Kruk! Humankind! A pox on all their petty intrigues."

  "Um, Bekki, how do you know this?"

  "Because, Waldan, as the representative of my Delf-Lord, I was in King Enrik's court demanding the recision of this unwarranted tariff when the Horde marched past. I then asked the King to gather a great force of Daelsmen to help us slay all the Grg. He refused, saying that he would not lay Dael bare in these troubled times, and instead marshaled his army and set them to guarding the walls of the city instead of aiding allies.

  "In the weeks after, Prince Loden pled with his father, saying that if the Daelsmen did not aid the Chakka and if as a result Mineholt North fell, then surely Dael would follow. Yet once again it was Tain's voice Enrik listened to.

  "But then Loden declared that with or without his father's leave, he would gather a force and harass the Horde if nought else.

  "After many a bitter argument, King Enrik suddenly changed his mind, and gave Loden leave to command a token brigade and harass the Horde. King Enrik sent Brandt as well. And he assigned Tain to go with his sons. Tain objected, saying that he could best serve his king by remaining in court, but Enrik commanded that Tain accompany Loden and give sound advice to him.

  "Bah! The king merely wanted both Brandt and Tain out of the way-to have Lady Jolet to himself."

  "Goodness, Bekki. Are you saying that King Enrik sent his sons and Lord Tain into peril just so he could have a tryst?"

  Bekki turned his dark gaze toward Tipperton, then looked back down the ridge and muttered, "Again I say, a pox on all humans, with their ungoverned appetites and petty intrigues!"

  Tipperton sighed, and sat without speaking. After long moments more, Bekki said, "We can go now, for it seems Lord Loden prevented Counsellor Tain from sending agents skulking after."

  Tipperton stood and shouldered his pack and lute. "Lead on, Bekki. Lead on."

  Together they set out along the ridge, and wended their way among the ever increasing boulders and crags while, behind, a dark figure slipped through the shadows and after.

  "We turn here," said Bekki, and he stepped into a rushing stream.

  Tip's eyes widened, yet in the starlight he followed Bekki into the rill, the water clear, the bottom rocky.

  Upstream they trod and up, with stone slopes rising left and right, the chill bourne cascading down ledges and steps from the high snows above. Finally, in the depths of night, Bekki turned aside and scrambled up a stone rise. As he came to the top he halted, and guardedly peered over the ridge.

  " 'Ware, Waldan," he cautioned as Tipperton came alongside.

  Carefully, Tip raised up just enough to look beyond the crest, and far down below in the wide vale burned the fires of the besieging Horde.

  Bekki pointed leftward and up, where immediately at hand a ledge ran along the mountain face to disappear into a wide, dark crevice. "We must go a short way in the open. Take care, for I would not have any of the Grg spy us."

  Moving slowly so as not to draw enemy eyes, along the ledge they sidled, Tipperton alternately puffing and holding his breath, for although he had practiced at climbing in Arden Vale, still he was unsettled by heights.

  On the slope behind, a figure in shadows watched.

  At last they entered the fissure, and in the blackness Tip hissed, "Wait, Bekki, I can't see a thing."

  "Here," grunted Bekki, "take my hand." And he reached out and grasped the buccan's fingers.

  Leading Tipperton, Bekki stepped along the passage, and after a hundred Warrow-paces or so, he stopped.

  "Why are we-?"

  Tip's words were interrupted by a soft rhythmic tapping on the stone.

  Silence.

  Again sounded the tapping, the rhythm changed.

  "Kha tak?" came a whisper.

  "Shok Chdkka," murmured the response.

  Stone on stone grated softly, and Bekki tugged Tipper-ton forward several strides.

  Again stone whispered against stone.

  There came a click of metal on metal, and of a sudden a phosphorescent blue-green glow lighted all, and Tip saw that he was in a carved chamber of stone, and a handful of armed and armored Dwarves stood glaring at him, the edges of their axes glinting wickedly.

  "Lord Bekki," growled one in the fore, "to our secret entrance you bring a-"

  "He is Sir Tipperton Thistledown," interrupted Bekki, "Waeran of the Wilderland, and emissary of the Lian, the Dylvana, the Baeron, and the Daelsmen, and I trust him with my life. Take heart, Kelk, for this Waeran brings an army to our aid."

  A time later, a shadowed figure came over the ridge and past the pickets and down into the encampment, quietly making its way to where the Elves were bedded, in the midst of which slept Beau.

  Removing his boots, Loric slipped under the blanket with Phais. Awakened, she turned and looked into his eyes.

  "They are safely within the Drimmenholt, chier," he said. "I followed all the way."

  She smiled and kissed him lingeringly, a kiss which soon burned with heat. And they made heady love as in the east the sky grew pale in the dawn.

  Chapter 37

  "An army?" growled Kelk, cocking an eye at Tipperton.

  "Well, it's not exactly my army," said
Tipperton, "though they did appoint me as their representative, did the Elves, the Baeron, and the men of Dael."

  A mutter of approval rumbled among the Dwarves, and Kelk grunted, "Good. At last we will drive the Grg from our doorstone."

  As Bekki caught up a brass and glass lantern, Tipperton glanced behind where stood the secret entry, yet he could see nought but a blank stone wall with no evidence whatsoever of a doorway in the rock. Tip's gaze swept on about the chamber. Through an archway immediately to the right stood a carved room, and among the shadows therein Tip caught a glimpse of cots and chests and a table and chairs.

  The guards' quarters, I would say.

  Straight ahead and beyond another archway a dark corridor clove into the stone of the mountain.

  "Come," said Bekki, raising the hood on the lantern, and though no flame was kindled, a phosphorescent glow streamed forth. "We have a ways to go."

  Kelk held up a staying hand and said, "Lord Bekki, tell your sire we would join in the fight."

  His statement brought a chorus of Ayes from the others.

  "I will," replied Bekki.

  Kelk smiled and slapped the blade of his axe and then stepped aside, as did those arrayed behind, opening the way into the dark passage and the mountain beyond.

  Through the archway strode Bekki, Tipperton on his heels, and from behind, the buccan could hear the voices of the warders speaking to one another in Chakur as they moved back into their quarters. What they said he knew not, though he supposed they talked of the coming battle.

  Down a gentle slope Bekki and Tipperton went, fissures and splits branching left and right as well as an occasional corridor. Down carved stone steps, and 'round sharp turns they tramped, and in one place they followed alongside a dark chasm, a cold drift of air upwelling and smelling of dampness and stone. Through carved chambers they trod, and archways stood darkly here and there, passages bored away to unknown destinations deep within the mountain stone. They strode down a long tunnel, and somewhere water fell adrip, its tinking echoes sounding within the shadowed hall. And Tip knew if something happened to Bekki, he would be hopelessly lost, and his chances of ever finding his way out would be completely in the hands of Dame Fortune and not within his own.