At last, a fortnight and a day after the four had come to Bircehyll, Tip and Beau, Phais and Loric, along with the Elven host, they all set forth in a long cavalcade, astride horses-but for two ponies-with pack animals and spare mounts drawn behind.
They were heading for a rendezvous point some hundred miles away as the raven flies-longer by the route they would take-and ten days from now the Baeron were scheduled to come. As to the place they would meet, it was a clearing along the Landover Road, a principal east-west tradeway, anchored at one end at the high point of Crestan Pass in the Grimwalls and threading eastward through Darda Erynian and Riamon and Garia and Aralan and onward to lands far beyond.
And so, north they rode up through the heart of Darda Erynian, the cavalcade moving slowly among the thickset trees.
"I say," murmured Beau as they fared 'round the perimeter of an open glade, "did you notice, Tip, no shadows flickering out along our flanks?"
"Shadows?"
"Yar. When we first rode through these woods to Caer Lindor and then on to Bircehyll, it seemed that just beyond the corners of my vision there were flickers of movement, but each time I tried to see what was what, all I saw were shadows."
"Hmm. Perhaps that's all it was: shadows… shifting shadows."
Beau shook his head. "Me, I think it was Hidden Ones dogging our passage."
"And they're not doing it now?"
"Nar. They're all gone down south to deal with the Horde."
At this reminder Tip's eyes brimmed, and he and Beau rode onward another league or so in silence. But then out of the clear blue Beau added, "That, or they don't think we need watching, what with a whole Elven army at our beck."
"What are you saying, Beau: that the Hidden Ones were protecting us before?"
"Wull, from what Phais and Loric and Ruar have said, perhaps they are a bit more friendly than I thought." Beau threw up a quick hand of denial. "Oh, not that I think they're to be taken lightly-oh, no, I still believe they're as dangerous as can be-but with Phais and Loric along and showing no concern over the fact that we were in Black-wood, mayhap th- Oh, my goodness, I just remembered."
"What?"
"My dream. The one where Phais was talking to a shadow as a red fox stood by. Perhaps it wasn't a dream after all."
Tip rode onward, considering, yet ere he came to any conclusions, word was passed back chain that Ruar would have the remaining scouts up front to receive their assignments, and all thoughts of Hidden Ones flew from the buccan's mind as he spurred his pony forward.
Tipperton was paired with a scout named Vail, and together they rode out on the left flank, the buccan following the Dylvana, for she knew how to avoid the dwelling places of the Hidden Ones.
"We would not want to disturb them," said Vail, smiling, a sparkle in her dark blue eyes.
At four foot six, Vail was the tiniest Elf Tipperton had yet seen, though she towered over him by just short of a full four hands, fourteen inches in all. She was dressed in varying shades of green, including the dark leather band that held her black hair back from her face. Her feet were shod in soft boots, their leather also dyed a deep green. Like Tip, her weapon of choice was a bow, though a long-knife was girted at her waist.
Together, Tip on his gelded brown pony, Vail on a black and white palfrey mare, they roamed the woodlands out of sight of the main host.
Now and again Vail would stop and lean over to look at tracks, at times dismounting. In these places Tipperton would dismount as well, and together they would examine the spoor.
"Hast thou hunted a bit?" asked Vail as they examined a rather large track pressed into the soft earth.
"Coneys mostly," said Tip, "and marmots, though now and again I'd try for a pheasant or two."
Vail nodded, then pointed at the print. "This is a bear's track, likely black and likely a female if full grown, for were it younger, 'twould not be placed so firmly. Too, 'tis fresh-within this day-the edges mark it so. And see the spacing of this print from the next and the one after? It was walking cautiously. Mayhap a boar bear was nearby. And see this turned-up leaf…?"
And thus did Tipperton's education in tracking begin, and in the next days Vail took every opportunity to instruct him, including the tracking of the scouts preceding them on the fore left flank of the host.
***
In early morn some seven days after leaving Bircehyll, the cavalcade reached the clearing along the south side of Landover Road, a field commonly used as an overnight respite by merchant caravans passing through Darda Erynian. Yet even though the merchants used this ground, they did not stay overlong, for crowding 'round was Black-wood, a place of dire repute. Elsewhere along this route caravans camped on the road itself until they were free of this sinister place.
Yet when the Elven host arrived, a hundred or so wains were drawn up in the mead. And standing by were the wagoners: huge men and great strapping women, Baeron all, most of the males nearly seven feet tall, the females a hand or so shorter.
"Lor', but look at those monsters," said Beau.
"Monsters?" asked Melon Beau pointed. "Have you ever seen any so big?"
Off to one side and confined in simple rope pens were the large, powerful draft horses used to pull the wains, the dark brown animals fully eighteen hands high, each having white, feathered hair on its fetlocks.
Melor laughed. "Ah, Beau, at first I thought you meant the Baeron."
Beau grinned and said, "Well, they're mighty big, too." Then added, "I say, let's go see what's in the wagons." And leading the Elf, the buccan headed off into the rows of wains of the caravan, hence did not see Tipperton and Vail as they came into the clearing and dismounted.
After signaling for Dylvana pickets to take up ward, and seeing to the encampment of his host, Ruar sought out the Baeron leader and was directed to a redheaded woman named Bwen, who simply towered over the Coron. Together they called a small council of Baeron and Dylvana.
And Tipperton watched from a distance as the group conferred. After a while and much discussion, Ruar turned and spoke to Eilor, leader of the Dylvana scouts. And Eilor rose to his feet and stepped from the circle, his eye seeking and finding. In all he called four outriders together: Tipperton, Vail, Elon, and Lyra.
"Many of the Baeron are battling foe in the Grimwall, yet sundry of the clans will join us to break the siege at Mineholt North. There are yet three days ere the Baeron are due, time enough with remounts to ride the length of the Landover Road east and west to the margins of Darda Erynian and look for aught untoward. Vail, Tipperton, ye shall ride west unto the Rimmen Road Ford; with Tipper-ton's light weight, I deem four horses in all should suffice. Elon, Lyra, run east to the Landover Gape at the Rimmen Ring; thy goal lies more distant, yet we will ride that way when the remainder of the Baeron arrive, hence we will meet ye along the way; even so, I ask that ye twain take three remounts each should ye need a swift return ere then. All of ye, take care as ye approach these ends, for they are each just beyond the bounds of the darda, hence not subject to the protection of the Hidden Ones. -Be there aught ye would ask?"
Vail looked at Tipperton and he shook his head, and both Elon and Lyra merely shrugged, and so they moved toward the herd of spare mounts to choose the horses they would take.
"Is there enough time for me to find Beau?" asked Tip, trotting at Vail's side.
"A candlemark or so."
Tip scanned about. "I think I saw him at one of the wagons, somewhere over there."
"Go then. I'll meet thee at the road."
Tipperton turned on his heel and hurried toward the parked wains. Yet there were a hundred or so of the vehicles, and though Tip swiftly ranged among the rows he didn't see Beau. Yet just as he was about to give up- "Hiyo, Tip," came a call.
Beau stood in the back of one of the covered wagons, this a hospital wain, Melor at his side.
"Isn't it grand, Tip?" said Beau, gesturing toward the interior of the wagon. "They've herbs and simples and all, and medicks I've never seen."
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As Tip trotted to the wagon, he reached for the thong about his neck. "Beau, I'm off to the west, scouting, and I'd feel better if you'd keep the coin… just in case."
Beau took a deep breath and blew it out, then reached down for the token. As Tip handed it over, Beau said, "Listen, bucco, I really don't think the coin any safer with me than with you. In fact, I'd feel better if you kept it 'round your own neck, for with it reminding you there's a mission to do, well, I think it more likely you'll be less rash."
"Oh, Beau-"
"Don't give me that 'Oh, Beau' look. I'll keep it this time, but once we're underway from this place and toward Mineholt North, it's yours and yours alone to give over to Agron, and that's that."
Tip turned up both hands, then said, "Thanks, Beau." And without another word trotted off toward the road.
Fretting, Beau watched him go, then turned to Melon "D'y' suppose he'll be more likely to take care of himself if he thinks he's the one who has to deliver the coin?"
Just as Tip reached the road, so too came the three Elven scouts, and within moments they set forth, Elon and Lyra riding east, Vail and Tipperton running west, she upon her own light and easy-gaited horse, the buccan upon one of the three remounts tethered behind.
In midafternoon Vail and Tip reached the edge of Darda Erynian some forty-three miles away, and here the Dara stopped to change mounts once again. As both she and the buccan took a moment to stretch their legs, Vail said, "For the next six leagues we must be wary, for now we leave the protection of Darda Erynian."
"What about the ford itself?" asked Tip. "I've heard it might be held by the Rupt."
Vail turned up a hand. "Not likely, Tipperton. -Oh, they did try, yet the Baeron drove them from it." Vail pointed westward. " 'Tis Crestan Pass the Foul Folk command."
Tip peered across the open land lying ahead. Far to the west and rearing up beyond the horizon he could see the snowcapped tips of the distant Grimwall Mountains, the chain reaching away to north and south. The Rimmen Road itself ran westerly toward this range. "That's where Crestan Pass is," said the buccan, his eye seeking but failing to find the place where road and mountain met, his words a statement rather than a query, for he had studied the war maps long and hard. Tip sighed. "To think: it's but a ride of a day or three from Arden Vale up the Crossland Road to the peak of the col where the Landover Road begins… up there at the top of Crestan Pass." Again Tip sighed. "Oh, my, but I've come so far to reach a place so close to where I started."
Vail shrugged.
Tip laughed bitterly and, at Vail's raised eyebrow, said, "Is it often the case that much of life is spent running in great large circles?"
Vail smiled in empathy and said, "At times, Tipperton. At times."
They stood and peered westward a long moment more, and then mounted up and rode out into the open wold.
In late afternoon the trees bordering the Argon River came into view, and the Landover Road fell down a long and gentle slope toward the unseen flow ahead.
Vail slowed the horses and turned to Tipperton. "Be wary, my friend, and keep a sharp eye." As Tip set an arrow to string, Vail urged her horse onward, drawing the other three behind.
The sun was just sinking beyond the distant Grimwall as they neared the band of riverside trees, and Tip's heart leapt as a huge figure stepped out into the road… but then Tip calmed when Vail called out a greeting-"Is bred an la e!"-and the buccan saw that it was another of these tall Baeron men.
"It is at that!" he called, and Vail kicked the horses into a trot.
As they sat on the east bank of the Argon, nigh where the road crossed the ford, Bren gestured toward the Grim-walls and said in his deep rumble, "We fight to free Crestan: Baeron on this side, the Elves of Arden Vale opposite, the Spawn trapped in between. Yet the winning goes slowly: they are deeply entrenched and have hurled us back several times."
"I hear the Foul Folk tried to hold this ford too," said Tipperton.
Bren's hand dropped to the mace at his side. "They did at that, but we hammered them free. 'Twas a shame to pollute the waters with their dark blood, though not a shame to kill Wrg."
A grim look came into Tipperton's eye. "I pity them not."
Vail looked long at the buccan, her expression unfathomable, and Tipperton became uncomfortable under her intense scrutiny. Finally she turned to Bren. "Hast thou aught word I should bear to my Coron?"
The big man took a deep breath. "Just this: from the tidings you bring and from what I know, I deem we fight this war in too many places. Modru controls all the choke points: Crestan Pass, the Black Hole, Gunarring Gap, even the Straits of Kis-"
"I say," interrupted Tip, "where's this, um, Black Hole?"
" 'Tis Drimmen-deeve he speaks of, Tipperton."
"Oh."
"Drimmen-deeve to Elves," rumbled Bren, "and Kraggen-cor to the Dwarves, but to the Baeron and other men it is the Black Hole."
"I see," said the buccan. "But I interrupted."
Bren shrugged. "There's not that much to say. Just that those of us who can should come together and choose which of Modru's forces to crush, for he too is spread thin. And by fighting in one place at a time we could break through Crestan, or lift the siege on the Black Hole, or some such… allowing more and more of the allies of the High King to unite, and then when we've enough, we can go cast down Modru himself in Gron."
Vail nodded. " 'Tis a splendid strategy thou hast proposed, Bren, and when we leave on morrow morn I will indeed bear thy words unto my Coron."
Bren grunted in acknowledgement, and in that moment one of the Baeron called; stew and bread and tea were ready.
There was no moon in the night, yet Tipperton sat by a river with stars glimmering in its depths, and he watched the water flow by, ever there, ever new, ever the same, the buccan remembering… remembering… as tears spilled down and down.
Chapter 31
It was late afternoon when Vail and Tipperton returned to the host, and together they sought out Alor Eilor and reported in, and together they bore the news to Coron Ruar.
"Well and good," said Ruar. " 'Tis meet the Baeron command the ford. Would that the Crestan Pass were free as well. Yet as to the strategy offered by Bren: there is much to recommend it. E'en so, there is also this: were the Free Folk to gather all forces and march upon Gron, much would be left vulnerable, and the Foul Folk free to bring destruction unto those thus exposed. Still, could we move swiftly, mayhap we could cast Modru down from his iron tower ere he could combine his Hordes to stay our hand."
Ruar peered at the ground. "Yet, 'twould not be easy, for the iron tower is a formidable fortress and Modru a powerful Mage. And not only does he command Foul Folk, 'tis said in the season of cold he has winter at his beck. If true, we would need many a powerful Mage at hand to counter such a foe.
"Still, the plan has merit, and I will think on it."
Eilor cleared his throat. "But first, my Coron, we must break the siege at Mineholt North."
Ruar looked up. "Aye, we must at that."
Tip sought out Beau and took back the coin, and the rest of the day they spent wandering about the encampment, gaping up at the huge draft horses of the Baeron, and they helped a wagoner feed one of them, marveling over the amount of food it took.
"A goodly measure of the cargo we bear is for the horses," said the Baeron, slapping one of the large animals on the flank. "Else we'd be hauling the freight ourselves."
Beau looked up at the towering man and horse and over at one of the massive wains. Then he grinned and said, "Well, it's not as if a pony would do."
The big man laughed, but Tip turned to Beau. "Speaking of ponies, bucco, it's time we fed and watered ours again."
They strolled to where their own animals were penned, and as they poured a ration of oats into nosebags, Beau looked at the little steeds and said, "I wonder just how they feel, here among the Elves' big horses and the even bigger horses over there?"
Now it was Tip who grinned. "No different f
rom us, I should think, Beau. No different from us whatsoever."
Later that eve, Tipperton strummed on his lute, playing it for the first time since hearing of… of the fall of Caer Lindor.
A deep melancholy ran under the tunes.
The next morning, a day early, five hundred Baeron mounted upon huge horses came riding into the clearing. Their chieftain was Gara, a redheaded man, short for a Baeran, standing just six feet three. Yet there was an air of command about him, and he seemed not at all diminished by his taller kith.
Once again Ruar called a council, and Beau and Tip watched from afar, Tipperton picking out songs on his lute. And the sun walked up through the sky and over as the council went on. And the buccan fed the ponies and led them to water, and then watched from afar again, Tip once more lightly strumming doleful tunes. Finally Vail came. "We leave on the morrow, Tipperton, thou and I on the fore left flank. As for thee, Beau, thou wilt ride among the healers' wains, or so Melor did say."
Beau sighed and looked at Tip. "It seems as if we've seen little of one another, especially these past few weeks, less and less as the days go by."
"Oh, Beau, it's not as if we are parted. I mean, even on the trail I'll see you in camp each night."
Vail shook her head. "Nay, Tipperton. Once we are underway, as scouts we'll oft be days on our own, searching, seeking, probing for foe. And we will rendezvous daily with a message rider and tell him what we have seen, and 'tis he who will bear word back unto Eilor and thence to the war council. -Oh, we will return at times, in haste when and if we find the enemy. Yet for the most, we will be long on the track and short within camp."
Tip looked at Beau and turned up his hands and shrugged, and Beau returned a faint grin.
Tip glanced at his friend and then took up his lute, and a lively tune sprang forth from the silver strings: it was "The Merry Man of Boskledee," Beau's favorite.
And when the song came to an end, both Warrows laughed in glee, Beau especially, for it was the first time in a long while that merriment had touched his friend.
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