There was a great uproar among the Warrows, as some cried No! You are needed here! while others leapt up to join the quest south. Luth Chuker smiled to himself, for he alone seemed to appreciate Merrilee’s canny maneuver: by speaking first as she had done, it was she who had set forth the terms of Vidron’s need, and she had gauged it well, for ten Warrows spaced the length of a two-mile-long horse-column would more than fill Vidron’s requirements; and by speaking first, Merrilee had established her right to go with Vidron, though some might have said it was no place for a damman had she merely volunteered to go after another had set forth the identical plan; but as it was, none questioned her right to go, they only questioned whether or not she—as well as Danner and Patrel—would be more valuable in the Boskydells than in Vidron’s strike force. And so, while Luth sat back and smiled, some Warrows argued over the merits of losing these three to Vidron, while others argued over their own right to fill the last seven open slots.
Finally, it was Hanlo who “set them all straight,” for when he finally held the floor, in an uncharacteristically quiet voice he turned to his bucco and asked, “Would you go on this mission, Son?” and at Danner’s nod: “Captain Rushlock, who would you appoint in your stead?”
“Luth,” answered Patrel, “Luth Chuker.”
“Damman Thornwalker Merrilee Holt,” said Hanlo, and by this very statement he established for all time the recognition that Merrilee was indeed a full-fledged Thornwalker, damman or no, “who would you take with you?”
“Two more from the Company of Whitby’s Barn, and five from the Eastwood Company,” answered Merrilee. “That’s five from each: evenhanded.”
“Then make your choices,” said Hanlo, “for in this entire matter we would not gainsay you. General Vidron deserves the best, and you are the best.”
Hanlo sat down again, and none raised his voice in protest. Now it could be seen where Danner got his air of command: like sire like bucco, they always say, and in this case the saying was true.
And so it was that Merrilee, Danner, Patrel, Teddy Proudhand, and Arch Hockley—all from Whitby’s barn—and Rollo Breed, Dink Weller, Harven Culp, Dill Thorven, and Bert Arboran—from Eastwood—were selected to go with Vidron’s force to free Gûnarring Gap, or if not to free it, then to harass the enemy until reinforcements came from Wellen, for even now the muster went forth in that Land and a portion of the levy was to come south if needed.
At last Fieldmarshal Vidron stood. “We can plan no more here this ’Darkday, for we have come to the limits of speculation. Let us now take to our beds, for on the morrow we must set forth on our missions. But ere we adjourn, this I say: Long shall the bards and tale-tellers speak of the alliance of Waldfolc and Men, and their words will be glorious, and their sagas full of valor, for we do battle with the forces of darkness and evil, and we shall prevail!”
A great cheer broke forth from the assembled council, and spirits were aflame. Though none knew what the morrow would bring, still they were filled with confidence and faith, and they were proud, for on this day they indeed had met the evil foe, and they had prevailed.
~
Early the next ’Darkday, Vidron set forth with fifteen-hundred Men and ten Warrows, the Warrows mounted upon lightly loaded pack horses, for ponies would not be able to match the pace of a Valanreach long-ride.
As they rode forth from the ruins of Brackenboro, those remaining behind—Men and Warrows both—stood along the streets and gave them a rousing cheer to send them on. And, in turn, those departing cheered the ones who remained behind to sweep the Bosky clean of Spawn and to plug shut the Thornwall. And so, shouting good-byes and good fortune, Vidron’s force wended eastward through the downs to turn southerly along the margins of the Eastwood as they followed the South Trace, making for the Tineway which they would then follow southeastward and out of the Boskydells at Tine Ford.
All ’Darkday they travelled thus at the varying pace of a Valanreach long-ride. And they saw no sign of friend or foe, for the land seemed deserted. At last they came to the Tineway, some twenty miles east of Thimble.
Now they swung along the tradeway, heading east and south for Tine Ford. But they rode no more than ten miles down the Tineway, for they had come some fifty-two miles that ’Darkday alone.
The Warrows were weary, and soon after their meal, all but the one on watch quickly fell asleep, for they were not used to the rigors of a Valanreach long-ride, and they welcomed the comfort of their bedrolls spread upon the hard, frozen ground.
~
The next ’Darkday was much the same as the previous one, the unremitting miles of cold ’scape passing by as hooves hammered at a canter and fast trot, and clipped at a slow trot, and clopped at a walk, as Vidron varied the pace to save the steeds, stopping now and again to feed and water the horses and to stretch legs and take care of other needs. But even while the mounts were eating grain from nosebags, at times the Men would walk forward leading the steeds, bearing ever toward their goal.
It was late when they made camp at the road junction where the Wendenway met the Tineway. They had come to Downdell. The next ’Darkday would see them leave the Bosky.
~
Mid of the third ’Darkday, the two-mile-long column came to the Thornwall at Tine Ford. But lo! this crossing was guarded by Thornwalkers. As their Captain Willinby said, “Yar, they came lots, but we just hid out in the Thornring itself, and when the Ghûls were gone, back we went on guard, putting the thorn plugs back in place. Finally I guess they got tired of unplugging the tunnel, ’cause they’ve not come in a while.”
Danner and Patrel shook their heads in admiration at the pragmatic persistence of this dogged Downdell Company, and they thought that if the other Thornwalker Companies had only used this tactic, then the other ways into the Boskydells would now be Thornguarded, too.
Little did they know that even as they rode out through the thorn tunnel and across the frozen Spindle River at Tine Ford and beyond the thorn barrier and into Harth, far to the north the vanguard of the Horde from Challerain Keep was at that very moment marching down the abandoned Northwood tunnel and into the Northdell of the Bosky. And some ten leagues behind, swarming across the southern plains of Rian, came the seething Horde, marching to the beat of a great Rûcken drum: Boom! Doom! Boom! Doom!
~
Late that same ’Darkday the Wellenen column made camp where the Tineway met the Post Road, some one-hundred-twenty miles south of Stonehill and the Battle Downs.
~
The next ’Darkday Vidron’s force turned southeastward along the Post Road, riding through the bleak Winternight. Down through the southern reaches of Harth they rode, and the ground-eating pace of the Valanreach long-ride hammered away at the iron-hard, snow-covered ’scape, and miles of frozen land faded behind them.
~
Seventeen or so leagues a day they rode—fifty or more miles a leg—and the Warrows were glad each time camp was made, for they were weary of riding. In the beginning their muscles had protested mightily each ’Darkday, especially when they arose to break their fast, yet each ’Day they had become more inured to the rigors of the long-ride, and the Warrows now suffered only an occasional twinge.
The horses, too, settled in to the long hours of travel, the varying pace conserving their strength. And all the riders, including the Warrows, saw to it that the steeds were frequently fed grain and given enough to drink and rubbed down each ’Night ere the warriors saw to their own comfort.
~
Late on the second ’Darkday upon the Post Road, the column made camp deep within the western margins of the Riverwood, a great forest stretching out many miles to either side of the Isleborne River and growing along its length for fifty leagues or more. And some miles ahead at the heart of the Riverwood and upon the banks of the Isleborne stood the ruins of Luren, once a great trade city, but destroyed in elden times: first by the terrible Dark Plague that swept all of Mithgar and slew nearly one out of three; then, years later, Luren w
as devastated by a great fire, and this time it was abandoned. Both the plague and the fire were said to be sendings of Modru.
~
The next ’Darkday the column rode through the ruins, but the wind had begun to howl, and flying snow obscured their vision, and so they saw nought of the remains. But even had the wind not been blowing and the snow not flying and their cloak hoods not drawn tightly over their heads, still Luren had fallen into such utter decay that little would have been seen of the former great city in any event.
They crossed the frozen Isleborne at Luren Ford, and Vidron’s force turned southward along Ralo Road; this was the road that would bear them across the Grimwall through Ralo Pass and then down through Gûnar to the Gûnarring Gap.
But the Warrows were not thinking of their route, for the shrieking wind doubled its fury and the fling of snow lashed at them, and they ducked their heads and were glad that the pack horses they rode were being led on tethers behind riders who seemed to know where they were bound.
And the howl tore at them, and white snow flew and spun, raging past. Yet the column pressed on into the blast . . . and suddenly they were come out of the Dimmendark and out of the flying snow and into overcast daylight.
~
And glad yells sounded above the howl of the wind along the Black Wall.
~
And when Merrilee was led forth upon her pack horse out of the Dimmendark, waiting for her were Danner and Patrel, joyous smiles upon their beaming faces, eyes brimming; and the damman looked at the blear light of a dismal day and, overwhelmed, she burst into tears.
~
The rest of the day they rode southward through the winter Riverwood, and there was much singing along the horseborne column, even though the overcast skies darkened as a brewing storm drew nigh. For Man and Warrow alike were filled near to bursting with the joy of the day, and they reveled in Adon’s light; even the horses seemed glad to see the daytide.
That evening they made camp still in the Riverwood, and a miserable driving sleet lashed at them. Even so, the joy of day persisted, and folk would glance up from the ground and look through the frigid ice-rain at one another, and great smiles would burst forth upon their faces as they shuddered and shivered in the blast.
~
When dawn came it fell through grey skies onto a frozen ice-laden land, and a chill wind blew from the west along the great arch of the Grimwall and over the Riverwood. But even though the coming day promised to be bleak and of little comfort, still all the column broke their fast in high spirits, for it was dawn they witnessed, the first they’d seen in more than a month, the first since the Shadowlight of the Dimmendark had swept down from the icy Wastes of Gron to grasp the northlands in the frigid clutch of Winternight.
That day they rode down through the southern reaches of the Riverwood, and as they rode the leaden cast of the sky began to lighten, and by midday great swatches of blue sky slashed overhead, riving the clouds to the wonder and delight of the south-bearing soldiers. And just as they rode from the last of the Riverwood, the Sun broke through, and a great jubilant cry rose up to greet it.
Up through the foothills of the Grimwall they rode, up toward the mountains standing before them; and warrior songs of the road spontaneously burst forth from their lips as the cavalcade pounded over the crystalline ’scape toward the Ralo Pass ahead.
In early afternoon they came to the rise of the gap, and Vidron called a halt, for the pass was fully fifty miles through, and although it could be crossed at this time of year, night would fall ere they had gone halfway, and he did not want to camp upon the icy heights.
But on the morrow they would make the crossing in a single day, to come down into the abandoned Land of Gûnar and thenceforward across its open plains to come to their goal: the enemy-held Gûnarring Gap.
~
The Sun of the next day found the column deep in the icy channel of Ralo Pass, southbound over the Grimwall, and the breaths of horses and Men and Warrows alike gushed forth in white plumes and rose into the bitter-cold mountain air. To either side of the wide col, sheer rock buttresses glared icily down upon the passing warriors, and the ringing echoes of driven hooves shocked and shattered among the frozen crags.
And the Sun had set and darkness had fallen when they came at last down out of the pass and into the southern foothills. At last they were come into Gûnar.
~
Over the next four days, Vidron dropped back the pace but sent horseborne scouts ranging to the flanks and fore, and across the plains the fifteen-hundred riders went.
At night they camped, but burned no campfires, for they did not want to be revealed to unfriendly eyes.
On the fourth day into Gûnar, the scouts went forth with special caution, alert for sight of the enemy, for late on this day they would come nearly to the mouth of the Gûnarring Gap.
At midday, the Ralo Road came to the sparse forest northwest of the Gap, and onward pressed the column. Southeast they rode, and the Sun fell towards dusk. And the closer to the Gap the cavalcade drew, the more dense became the woods to the west of the road. In midafternoon they passed the junction where the Gap Road came south from Gûnar Slot and joined the Ralo Road, and on pressed the warriors. Just ere sunset, the column turned aside to ride in among the trees; there they would make camp concealed from any who might pass along Ralo Road.
Scouts now were sent forth to ride the last few miles to the Gap, there to spy out the strength of those warding it.
And it was late in the night when they returned, and their news was dismal: “Marshal Vidron,” reported the chief among the scouts, a Wellenan named Brûd, “there are many warriors guarding the Gap: five- or six-thousand, I ween. Hundreds of campfires we saw, and here and there were huge fires—special fires—but what they were for, we could not get near enough to tell. Yet we did creep close enough to make certain that it was no ruse of the enemy, that warriors surely were at each pyre—and indeed they were there, for we saw them from afar. But pickets rode Moon-lit perimeters, and had we come closer, they would have discovered us. Yet we counted the fires—more than five-hundred in all—and we judged from that count the number of warriors. Too, they have horses: many many horses. Perhaps it is a cavalry we looked upon, though we cannot be certain, for the bulk of the herd was beyond the Gap, moving like a great black shadow out upon the winter-grass of Valon. Nought else have I to report, Hrosmarshal Vidron.” Brûd fell silent and looked to the scouts that had gone with him, but they said nought.
Vidron turned to his advisors, Wellenen and Warrow alike, seated in council. “Our course is clear then: we must use tactics that will allow our force of fifteen-hundred to defeat an army of five- or six-thousand.”
Vidron paused, and before any could say ought, Patrel spoke: “Strike and flee.”
“Hai!” exclaimed Vidron, the light of the quarter Moon shining pale upon his silver beard and white teeth. “My thoughts exactly. Harass them as the Horde was harried by Galen, now King if he yet lives. But, lad, you spoke first. Say on.”
“Kingsgeneral,” said Patrel in a clear voice, looking to Vidron, “I deem that the Wellenen can strike hard and unexpectedly and withdraw in haste ere the enemy can group to give chase. Even if the foe sends pursuit, most of them will be left behind to hold the Gap; hence, only a token will give chase, if any. We can regroup in these woods to assail the pursuers, should they come. If I am wrong and a great number follows, then we will fade away without engaging them.
“But it will take more than one assault to vanquish the foemen; and it is to the second strike and the third and all thereafter that we must give extra caution, for the enemy will be on guard and wary. Here the quarrels of the Warrow bows will be most valuable, for we are the Wee Folk and can move as quietly as the falling leaf. And our arrows will be used to strike down their sentinels in silence to breach their warding ring and let the Wellenen through to lash forth without warning.
“That is the gist of my thought, Fieldmarshal Vidron
; it is the only way that I think fifteen-hundred can prevail over six-thousand.” Patrel fell silent. And Merrilee, seated next to Vidron, nodded to herself in agreement with the buccan’s strategy.
Vidron rocked back, a look of admiration upon his face. “Ho, Waldan, but I am glad you are not my enemy, for your battle plans are most formidable.”
“Perhaps, Fieldmarshal,” responded Patrel. “Yet I am not the tactician of this group of Warrows; Merrilee Holt holds that place.”
“Hai, lass!” cried Vidron, slapping a hand to his leg in pleasure and hugging the damman over to him with one arm. And the air whooshed from Merrilee’s lungs and her tilted blue eyes flew wide in his fierce embrace. Then Vidron released her, and as she struggled back to an upright sitting position, he spoke on: “Tactician or not, Captain Patrel, your plan is sound, and your thoughts match mine. We will follow that course, at least until more Men muster in Wellen and join us.
“Yet there is much we must speak on to flesh out the tactics of this stroke, for all must go smoothly. We must set forth the order of the Companies, the direction of the strike and withdrawal, the horn signals to be used, and much else. Yet, I would fall upon the enemy at the morrow’s dawning, for then we will come out of the shadows of the pass as a catamount striking from dark crags.” Vidron turned to his Captains. “What say you? How shall we carry forth with this plan?”
~
Thus it was that the detailed plans were made to strike the foe in the Gûnarring Gap and then to withdraw unto the woods. In this first strike, the Warrows would play no role, for the enemy expected no attack and their guard would be sparse and lax. Hence, along with a few herdsmen to watch over the pack horses, the ten Wee Ones would take shelter in the forest to the west of Ralo Road. But in subsequent strikes, Warrows would lead the way.
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