Durek fell back in horror, his eyes wide and fixed upon the streaking fires aloft, the back of the hand that had touched the horn pressed against his mouth as air hissed in through his clenched teeth in a prolonged gasp. And a great moan of dismay rose up from the encamped Army.
And as the myriad incandescent trails faded and were gone and the land fell into darkness, Durek cast his hood over his head and walked away into the night.
CHAPTER 14 THE PARTING
It was an hour after sunrise, and the Chief Captains had gathered again at the Council fire. Spirits were subdued, for last night's awful portent, the shower of stars, had dismayed the Dwarves; they truly believed that each falling star signalled the death of a friend. But they had mastered their fear, if not their misgivings, and plans were being made for the march of the Army to the Dusk-Door and of the Squad to the Dawn-Gate:
Barak held the Council's attention: 'The Dusken Door was crafted in the First Era by the greatest Gatemaster of all, Valki. He was aided in this one
effort, though, by the Wizard Grevan, who cast the hidden theen signs on the portal. The lore words of vision cause the Wizard-metal runes and other markings to appear: pale in the daylight, brighter in the moonlight or starlight or on a darkling day, but brightest of all in the black of deep night. And when the markings become visible, then a wayfarer need only say the Wizard-word Gaard, meaning, we deem, move, and the doors will open—or rather, now, they may or may not open, depending upon the state of repair." Barak shook his head in regret. "Today we craft no Chak doors that open by word alone; their construction is a lost art. Yet I trust that the skill and loreknowledge that Tobin, Delk, and I hold will be equal to the challenge."
Barak paused, tugging on his red beard, and then spoke on: "But herein lies a problem: if the Army tries to open the doors from without ere the inside repairs are finished, it may create further damage. I know not for certain how long it will take Delk, Tobin, and me to set the doors aright, but time must be allowed for this task.
"On the other hand, if the Squad tries to open the doors from within while still blocked without by broken stonework—as Brega tested—it could also worsen the damage. So time must be set aside to allow the Army to remove the blockage.
"It is my meaning that neither the Squad on the inside nor the Army on the outside should attempt to open the portal until both sides have completed their work. Yet how will each know that the other is ready? We must not signal through by tapping on the rock, for the rap may alert the Squam; the sound of hinge repair or rubble removal mayhap will do that in any event, but we must avoid hammer-signalling through the stone.
"As has been said, we must work to matched schedules, each side giving the other time to come to the doors and do the work, with some allowance for unknown mischance. I propose now that our separate march schedules be drawn up, and the work time allocated, and that we select the moment when King Durek speaks the words of power." Barak's counsel brought nods of approval from the Chief Captains. He continued, "King Durek, when you say the words of opening, if the portal does not swing wide, then it either will be because mischance has delayed us or because repairs are beyond our skill. If they do not open, say then Gaard once more, and the attempt to open will cease. In the event that perhaps we are delayed, I ask that you try again under the stars each mid of night for a sevenday. If after that time they still remain shut, then we will never come.
"I have but one more thing to say, and it is this: for our part at the Dusken Door, Delk, Tobin, and I will need no more than one day's time after we reach our goal; if we cannot repair it in a day, we cannot repair it at all."
Barak sat down and white-bearded Tunnelmaster Turin Stonesplitter stood and was recognized. "King Durek, I can only guess at the amount of rubble blocking the doors, but if necessary we have more than four thousand
Chakka to remove it, whatever the quantity." Turin thought for a moment. "Give me four days—in four days we Chakka can move a small Mountain."
Prince Rand then spoke: "By the roads and paths that lie ahead of us it will take eighteen days to march to Dusk-Door: two days and one half to reach the Grimwall Mountains, one day to cross through the Crestan Pass, one day to reach the Old Way below Arden, and the remainder to march to the western portal."
"By my reckoning, then," calculated Durek, "by leaving here at noon today, the Army will be in position and ready to open the Dusken Door the evening of the twenty-fifth of November, two and twenty days hence. Will the Squad be ready by then?"
Lord Kian answered first: "If we use a raft by day to go down the River Argon to the wold above Darda Galion, and thence walk west across the land to the Pitch and on into the Dawn-Gate, then that will take twelve days in all: three days are needed to build the float, and at the rate the river flows, four more to raft to the point where we start overland; then, with four days of westward trek, we should reach the hills bordering the Pitch; finally, with but one more day of marching up the Pitch, we will come to the east portal."
Perry sat huddled with Anval, Borin, Barak, Delk, and Tobin. The six of them were closely studying one of the scribe-copies of Perry's map and muttering about distances and chambers and halls and stairs. At last Perry spoke up: "King Durek, the Brega Path is six and forty miles long, and two days should suffice for the passage. However, we cannot say how often we may have to hide from Spawn within the Deeves, or be delayed for other reasons yet unknown. Thus, we set aside one more day for delay. Hence, to reach the doors, we must allow three days to traverse Drimmen-deeve."
"And so," responded Durek, "twelve days to the Daun Gate, three days to the Dusken Door, and one day for repairs: sixteen days in all for the Squad to complete the task. Since less time is needed for this venture than for the Army to be ready at the Door, you seven must delay along the way so that the completion of your task coincides with the completion of ours: start late, hold along the river, camp on the wold—do what must be done, but stay out of the danger of Kraggen-cor until it becomes necessary. The twenty-fifth of November is the appointed day that both sides must be ready.
"And now, Prince Kian, I have consulted with all of your squadmates, and they are agreed: you are delegated as leader of the Squad of Kraggen-cor. In times of hard choice, yours shall be the final decision; I have but meager advice for you, and that is to draw upon your companions' knowledge and wisdom, listen closely to their counsel, and choose wisely.
"My Chief Captains and I have but to make final our plans for the march, and the Army shall embark at noon. You, too, must now gather the Squad together, and you must collect from the waggons the supplies you need to fulfill your task."
The seven penetrators withdrew twenty yards or so to the comracL
campment and began discussing what was needed to carry out the mission. They spoke of food—such as crue—and water for their journey; tools to build the raft; heavy rope to bind the logs; light rope for other needs; hooded Dwarf-lanterns to light the way along dark paths; special tools—such as a small-forge and bellows and special firecoke, and augers and awls and hammers—to repair the hinges; clothing and armor and weaponry; and many other things. They did not take all they spoke of, but they considered well, and in the contemplation made firm some plans that required detailed thought.
Perry was surprised at how much yet needed to be decided and at how thorough the planning was, and he paid close heed to the deliberations. But every now and again he glanced up to see Cotton sitting in the other circle engaged in Army march planning. Oh Cotton, Perry thought, you said you did not want to leave me, and in truth I, too, do not want to go away from you. But the need is great, and there is no other choice. It ever must be so in War: that best friends are separated by the circumstance of the moment. How often, I wonder, do they part never to meet again? Will we, Cotton, greet each other after today? Will either of us ever see the other, or the Boskydells, or The Root again?
Soon the Squad completed its initial planning, and Perry went with the others to gather th
e needed supplies. Perry did not see the stricken look on Cotton's face as Cotton looked up and saw Perry leave; for Cotton, too, was dreading the impending separation, feeling as if he were about to be cast adrift, or abandoned, or as if he were somehow forsaking his "Mister Perry."
Anval and Borin, Barak and Delk and Tobin, Kian and Perry, all made repeated trips to the various, hued waggons, selecting supplies. At times they enlisted some local aid from Dwarves lounging in the vicinity of whatever waggon they were drawing from to help carry part of the provisions. The pile grew, and Perry wondered if all of this could actually be used by the seven of them between now and November twenty-fifth. Oh well, he thought, what we don't use we can cache, and the buccan continued collecting items under Kian's directions. Finally they were finished—and just in time, for the Army began the initial preparations necessary to start the long march.
The cook-waggons then served an early lunch, and the seven were joined by Durek, Cotton, and Rand for their last meal together before the parting. Their spirits were exceedingly glum, and for the greater part of the meal, no one said aught. Finally Durek broke the silence: "I know not what to advise, for I know not what you will meet on your mission—we are faced with too many imponderables. Still, stealth and secrecy seem called for, yet there may come times when dash and boldness will serve better. Only you can judge what will be necessary to pierce the caverns from Daun Gate to the Dusken Door, and then only at the time you are doing it, for much of the journey cannot be foreplanned since it depends upon what the foul Grg adversary is doing. Yet this we know: You may travel under the Sun with impunity—
though you must guard against Squam deadfalls and hidden traps—so make the most of daylight. At night, keep a good watch and burn not encampment fires once you are within the reach of Grg raiders. This too: enter Kraggen-cor in the morning Sun, for the east light of the dayrise will reach far into the portal, driving the Squam back, and it will be less well guarded, but the Sun will not protect you deep in the caverns, for there it does not penetrate except at the stone window-shafts; even in that light you are not safe since black-shafted poison Grg arrows can be loosed at you from the depths of the surrounding darkness. And so, take care."
And then Durek stood and said in his gravelly voice: "Brega, Bekki's son, strode into legend along a steadfast course of honor. May the span of all our strides match his—for that is the true Brega path."
Durek then fell silent a moment, looking intently upon each member of the Squad as if to pierce the veil of the future and see their fate, but he could not; and at last he said, "May the eye of Adon watch over you, and His hand shield you from harm." And he bowed low to each of the seven. "And now we must part, for I have a far rendezvous to keep with seven trusted Friends at the mid of night on November the twenty-fifth." And the Dwarf King then turned and strode away.
At that moment Brytta rode to them on his black steed, Nightwind, and leaned down and clasped Lord Kian's forearm. "My Lord, fare you well. Eanor, King of all Valon, would bid you safe journey were he here, but he is not, so I speak for all of my countrymen: Good fortune to you all, each and every one!" And with a waving salute to the members of the Squad, the Man from Valon called out to his mount, and they thundered away.
Cotton went to Perry and they embraced. "Now, Sir, you are part of the Secret Seven, so don't go giving yourself away to no Rucks. And stay out of trouble for your Miss Holly's sake."
"I don't envy you going back over the Crestan Pass again, Cotton, but say 'hullo' to Baru and his sons for us," responded Perry, attempting to be casual; but then: "Cotton, old friend, I'm going to miss you, but we shall meet again at the Dusk-Door."
Rand and Kian also embraced and looked long at one another. "The Kingdom needs your hand, Kian," said Rand. "Keep safe; wear that chain mail we hauled all the way from Dael."
"Rand, when this is over," pledged Kian, "you and I shall take the time to go on a long hunt as in days past: ahorse, with falcon, hawk, and dog. Til we meet at the west portal, fare thee well, my brother."
The Seven stood at the edge of the woods and watched as Brytta's mounted scouts of Valon—acting upon Rand's description of the lay of the land and the planned Dwarf Army march route—rode off in different directions out upon the grassy plains, while the Dwarf column formed up on the road: Dwarves four abreast in march order, waggons pulling into their assigned places in line, spare horses tethered to the tailgates of the black wag-
gons. The Sun stood at the zenith when at last all was ready. Durek's voice rasped out, "Chdkka!" There was a long pause while like a dying echo the order was repeated down the line by Captain after Captain. "Hauk!" And the Army began to move.
Like some vast multilegged creature, the Legion surged out onto the plains: Dwarf boots tramping on hard-packed road; hued waggons rolling slowly forward: the slap of sideboard, the creak of harness, the grind of iron rims rolling; the jingle of armor; the clop of hooves: all these sounds and more the four-mile-long column made as it undulated slowly out over the prairie. As Durek strode by at the head of the force, he and Rand saluted the Seven with an upraised right hand, and so did the Captains as each of them passed by. Rank after rank tramped past with tinted waggons spaced along the line: white, green, black, red, blue, and yellow. At last the Squad saw the end of the train approaching them, and at the very last came a yellow cook-waggon being drawn by Brownie and Downy, and beside the grey-bearded driver sat Cotton.
As this last waggon rolled by, Cotton, though distressed, smiled at his "Secret Seven" and waved. The wain slowly trundled past and moved out onto the prairie. Cotton stood and faced back toward the Seven and drew his sword and held it to the sky, the golden runes on silver blade burning in the sunlight, his gilded armor blazing as well. "Shok Chdkka amonu/" he cried out, "and the swords of the Bosky, too!" And he quickly faced about and sat down, for he did not want them to see that he was weeping.
Perry stood by a birch tree and leaned his head against the smooth white bark as he watched the column march toward the Grimwall Mountains, dimly visible low on the horizon. The plains were flat, covered only by tall waving grass and heather, and so he watched for a long, long time as the Host moved out across the wold. The Sun had fallen past the zenith to midaf-ternoon when the buccan at last turned away and trudged toward the campsite, unable to see the yellow waggon any longer.
CHAPTER 15 WAROO
"It ought not to be this way, Bomar," said Cotton to the grey-bearded Dwarf on the seat beside him, and then the buccan turned around again to look far back over the grassland toward the distant border-forest. "No sir, it just ought not to be this way. When you say goodbye to your best friend, you just ought to disappear with a flash and a bang and maybe a puff of smojce, and get the goodbye over with all at once. Instead, we said goodbye almost three hours ago, and here I can still see the silver glint of his armor in the Sun, and maybe he can still see the gold of mine. It just makes the parting last longer."
Cotton once more faced the mountains, but he could not remain that way for long, and again he turned to look back over the plains toward the river. "Oh," he said in a small, dismayed voice, for the argent glint was gone, and Cotton felt as if he had somehow betrayed Perry by not seeing the glimmer disappear. Glumly he faced forward along the direction of march.
Stretching out before him was the long Dwarf column, feet tramping and wheels rolling toward the mountains ahead. Except for the Army, and an occasional distant scout, Cotton could detect nothing else moving across the prairie, not even the wind. With little to distract him, the Warrow rode along in silence, feeling all alone amid an army of strangers, paying scant heed to anything except his own wretchedness.
"Put your sorrow behind you, Friend Cotton," advised Bomar after a while, flicking the reins lightly to edge Brownie and Downy a bit closer to the ranks ahead. "Though you have parted from a boon comrade, do not dwell upon the woe of separation; think instead upon the cheer of reunion, for you will have a tale to tell that he knows not and will
hear from him an adventure new to you."
"But Bomar," protested Cotton, "if it's tales and adventures we're living, well then I'd rather be in the same story with my master than in a different one."
Bomar tugged on his grey beard and scowled. "Friend Cotton, you are not in a different venture from your 'Mister Perry.' Aye, you are now separatee)
from him, yet the tale is the same—separate or together, we are all of us living in the same story: it is a tale that was started before the beginning, before the world was made; and it will go on after the end, when even the stars are unmade again. And in any tale such as this there are those whose accounts seem always to touch, and those who weave in and out of the tales of others, and many more whose narratives touch but once or never. Even twins, or brothers, or kindred, or just good companions will have times of separateness. We must savor the times we are together; and store up the times we are apart, like precious gems to show if ever we are united again. Let not the sadness of separation dull these jewels, but instead look with joy toward your reunion so that they will brightly sparkle."
"Why, you've hit the nail right square, Bomar!" exclaimed Cotton in surprise, seeing the separation in a different light. "We are still in the same story together. And I've got to start living my part of it, looking at things through happy eyes, not sad ones, so that when we get together again, well, I'll have some of them bright jewels to show him."
Had it been an overcast day, perhaps Cotton's somber mood would have clung longer, but the Sun was shining in a high blue sky, and the Warrow's spirits rose with every turn of the waggon wheel, until they were as bright as the day. "Bomar," added the Warrow after a long while, "I do hope that Mister Perry has someone as wise as you to set him right about being apart from a friend." A smile flickered over Bomar's face, but he said nought; and the waggon rolled on.
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