Into the Forge hc-1

by Dennis L Mcciernan

  Bwen cleared her throat and then said, "Even so, wee Tippy may be right and the road a deal better, for if there are ravines standing across our way, going the longer may be shorter overall."

  Gara nodded. "Indeed there is that, but there is this too: likely the roads are watched, whereas by coming at them through the foothills we will come upon the foe unawares."

  Bwen looked up at Uryc. "How rough is the knd?"

  The big man peered down at the map. "A deal. Yet it was in the higher land I ran my traps. Down lower it seems bisiu-better-yet I didn't travel it all."

  Bwen canted her head, then turned to Gara. "Well, Chieftain, it seems it's a hundred and some miles over rough ground or three hundred and some by road. If the land is too ugly, we'll be all the later for it, but if fair, then all the better."

  The discussion lasted many candlemarks longer, but finally the decision turned on the fact that they bore a greater risk of being spotted if they followed the roads, for would not Modru set his own patrols along these ways? Whereas overland, though a harder pull, they were more likely to reach their goal without alerting the Spawn.

  When Tip carried his blankets to the campfire where Beau was bedded down and told him of the decision, Beau grunted and then said, "Goin' overland, eh, and not on a packed road? Well then, Tip, tell me this: with these great big wagons, heavy as they are, what'll it be like if it rains?"

  For two days the wagon train rolled cross-country, the great horses drawing the heavy wains after, Dylvana and Baeron escort riding alongside and a rear guard following. Directly out front fared the cavalcade, and farther ahead by a mile or so rode the column of the vanguard, Elves and men alike, but for a lone Warrow: Beau on his pony down among the great horses. And ranging farther out still, by two leagues or three or more, fared the scouts, some to the fore, some aflank, some bringing up the rear. Tipperton and Vail now rode point.

  As late afternoon drew down on the day, Beau turned to the Dylvana riding alongside. "I say, Melor, just how far do you judge we've come? I mean, I've been trying to track our progress by sighting on the cap of that mountain over there, and it seems not to have changed at all."

  "The mountain moves not, for we but plod," replied the Elf. "A better measure of progress might be the number of steps thy little steed takes."

  "Perhaps better, Melor, but it would be a measure dull beyond measure."

  Melor laughed, then said, "Six leagues at most, my friend."

  "Six leagues?"

  "I gauge that to be the measure of how far we've rolled overland-seven by the end of this day."

  "Seven leagues, twenty-one miles altogether. Let me see, at this rate we should reach Mineholt North in, um…"

  "Twelve days of overland travel," said Melor, "two of which we've done, or will have done when we camp this eve."

  Beau smiled. "Oh, well, then, that's not so bad now, is it?"

  "Nay, wee one, 'tis not," replied Melor, then added: "Of course, that assumes the land remains friendly."

  Far out front, ten miles or so, Tip stood on the lip of the ravine. "We can't take wagons through this."

  "Aye, we cannot," said Vail, shading her eyes and peering easterly along the rim, "at least not here." She stepped to her horse. "Ride west, Tipperton, while I ride east; we'll look for a place to cross. Shouldst thou find one, turn and ride to me. I will do the same."

  Tip nodded and mounted and kicked his heels into the pony's flanks.

  Westerly he rode, away from Vail and up the rising land. In the near distance, the Rimmen Mountains jutted up, barring the way. "If we don't come to a place soon," Tip muttered to his pony, "the land will be entirely too steep, too rugged for the wagons to roll this way."

  On he pressed and up, a mile and then another, the deep cleft to his right becoming narrower. Yet another mile beyond he came to a bluff, a perpendicular upjut in the land cloven through by the ravine. Tipperton scanned for a way up and, seeing a notch, he turned the pony leftward and rode toward the gap. Yet when he came to it, the defile he found was rubble-filled. He leaned forward and patted the pony alongside the neck. "Well, old friend, I'm not certain a goat could get up that pile of rocks, much less a wagon train."

  Turning back, he rode easterly, and finally espied Vail coming toward him.

  As they came together he said, "There's nothing west but a steep bluff."

  Vail turned and pointed east. "Yon, a third of a league, there is a way across. 'Twill be arduous, yet the train can pass."

  "What about farther down?"

  "I rode a league past, and there I met Arylin riding west along the rim. She says that there is no crossing for at least three leagues farther on. Hence, the one I found is the best to be had."

  Tip canted his head noncommittally and said, "Then there is nothing for it but to ride the back trail and set the guide markers."

  And together they rode easterly along the rim to the place where they would start tracking back and setting the signs.

  The following day, Beau said, "I see what you mean about the land becoming less friendly."

  "Aye," replied Melor, his gaze sweeping across the boulder-strewn ledges. " 'Tis the Rimmens reaching out."

  "But we're a distance away," protested Beau.

  "Still the stone angles forth."

  "It won't break the wheels, will it?"

  Melor shrugged but did not otherwise reply.

  They rode the rest of the day in glum silence, for the wagons behind were considerably slowed by the edges and ridges and juts in the stony terrain.

  And as the sun sank into the horizon, the vanguard came to a deep and wide ravine with long slopes down in and back out.

  "Oh, my," exclaimed Beau, "surely there is a better way."

  Melor looked east and west. " 'Tis steeper elsewhere than here, at least as far as my eye can see."

  "But what about farther down-or up, for that matter- farther than your sight?"

  Melor shrugged. "The scout markers say this is best."

  They waited until the train arrived, and then Bwen came striding forward. "Fyrra!" she barked, peering down the slope and across and up again. "But they don't expect us to take our wagons through that, do they?"

  Ruar sighed. "The scouts believe this place is best."

  "Feh! Now what would a scout know about wagons? I mean, they believe that if they can ride through a place, then a wagon surely can follow."

  Gara turned to her and gestured wide east and west. "If it's worse up and down, Wagonleader, then would you have us turn back?"

  "I didn't say that," snapped Bwen. She turned and called, "Hoy, Braec!"

  One of the huge men from the wagons came to her side. "Naofa Adon!" he breathed, looking at the way.

  "Let's go down and across and see how we may get the train through," said Bwen.

  Braec cast a skeptical eye at her, but followed Bwen down the slope.

  When they returned, Bwen said, "This will be the way of it: we'll harness a team to each wagon as usual-"

  "Hoy now," interrupted Beau, "I'm no expert but it seems to me, no matter how good the brakes, a regular team will not be able to hold one of these heavy wagons back on the downslope or haul it out on the far si-"

  "Hush, Waldan!" barked Bwen, glaring at Beau. "Let me finish." Then her features softened. "Indeed, a normal team cannot cross unaided. They will merely be used to steer, to guide the wagon down and up. Nay, the real work will be done by six-horse teams, three stationed on each side."

  "Oh," said Beau, but nothing more.

  Bwen smiled. "On this side, with lines 'tween collar and wain, six horses will be hitched hindward-"

  "Hindwards?" blurted Beau, then slapped a hand across his mouth.

  Bwen sighed. "Hindwards, Waldan, as if set to pull a wagon by long ropes away from the slope, but while the team itself will remain on level ground they instead will slowly back and ease the wain down into the deep ravine."

  Ruar nodded and said, "Ah, acting as a brake."

  "Y
ou took the words right out of my mouth," muttered Beau.

  Bwen glared from Ruar to Beau, and the Warrow smiled innocently up at her. She shook her head and reluctantly grinned and then continued. "Once safely in the ravine, the ropes will be cast off and the six-horse team taken to another waiting wagon. And down in the ravine, the normal pair will pull the wain to the base of the far slope, where more ropes will be attached and that wagon pulled up and out by another six-horse team above."

  Bwen fell silent but Braec added, "With three teams here and three opposite, as each wain is eased down or hauled up, two teams on each side will be standing by and ready for the next. The work can go no swifter."

  "Well and good," said Ruar, "on the morrow, then."

  The next day, on the near side, even as each wain was eased down, two other teams were already roped to wagons and standing by. And as that wain reached the bottom and was loosed from the ropes to proceed across and the braking team led to another wagon, the next was started down. And on the far side, ropes were attached and wagons drawn upslope by the six-horse teams opposite.

  Even so, but two wagons passed through the ravine each candlemark, eight wagons every four. And the sun rode up the sky and across as one by one the wagons were eased down and pulled through the bottom and then hauled back up. And as the day aged, the teams on the ravine sides were relieved often, for the work was arduous.

  It took the entire day and then some to move the full hundred wains through the ravine. And as the last one was drawn up by lantern light and by the waxing light of a gibbous moon, Bwen said to Gara, "Well, Chieftain, we went all of a ravine width today. If there are many more of these in our path, the snows will be flying ere we gain Mineholt North."

  Three days later under lowering skies, late in the day Tip and Vail came riding unto the encamped train, for Coron Ruar had summoned them in. Once again they were directed to the war council. When they arrived, Ruar said, "On the morrow I would have ye ride far point, for we have reached the halfway mark and Mineholt North is but twenty leagues hence. Take a remount as well as a pack-horse, for should the need arise, I would have ye unhampered by weary or lame steeds."

  Tip glanced at his pony and then at a nearby steed and sighed. "I would ride my pony, Coron."

  "Thou shalt do so, Tipperton. Yet shouldst thou and Dara Vail need flee in haste, thou must abandon it for a swifter mount."

  Tip frowned but nodded in agreement.

  "Shall any ride as courier?" asked Vail, glancing at Eiior, then back at Ruar. " 'Tween us and thee?"

  "When we are nigh enough to the mineholt-say, ten leagues or so-I am of mind to send Dalon," said Eilor.

  Sitting opposite in the circle, Phais looked at Loric, then cleared her throat.

  "What wouldst thou say, Dara?" asked Ruar.

  "Just this, Alor Ruar: Loric and I have been given the charge to see that the Waerlinga reach King Agron safely, and this mission thou hast given Sir Tipperton-"

  "Hold on, now," objected Tipperton. "I asked to be a scout and a scout I'll be."

  Phais held out a hand to stop his words. "I am not objecting to thee riding far point, Tipperton. Instead I am saying that thee should be accompanied by Alor Loric or me."

  Tip glanced at Vail, and Phais said, "Dara Vail as well."

  Tip looked at Beau. "What about-?"

  "I say, I could be a scout, too," piped up Beau.

  Ruar shook his head. "Nay, I'll not send ye both. Should ill befall one, the other must survive to carry on."

  Beau frowned, and Phais said, "If thou wilt have me, Sir Beau, I will stay at thy side."

  "And I shall ride with Sir Tipperton," said Loric.

  "But that means you and Lady Phais will be separated," said Tip.

  Loric shrugged and said, "Such is war."

  ***

  The rain began that night, with lightning and the rumble of thunder in the mountains to the west, and the dawn came grey and dismal, with water yet falling down. And as Vail and Tip and Loric saddled their mounts and two remounts and laded a packhorse as well, Beau came splat-ting through the puddles, Phais at his side.

  Tip started to reach for the thong and coin, but Beau shook his head. "I told you once and I'll tell you again, I'll not take the coin. It's up to you to remain safe and deliver it yourself. So you take care, bucco, and that's an order."

  Tip grinned and shook his head. "Well then, my friend, perhaps you should take my lute and keep it safe in a wagon."

  Again Beau shook his head. "Look, Lady Jaith gave you that and told you bards always carry their lutes and such wherever they go, and if having it with you will make you more cautious, well then, I'm all for it. Besides, it hardly takes up any space."

  "Beau, you would have me creeping about and jumping at my own shadow, yet in this mission there may come a time when boldness is called for and not timidity."

  "Well, bucco, if you're going to be bold, then do it timidly," said Beau, and looked up in surprise as Vail and Loric and Phais burst into laughter.

  And finally all was ready, and Tip and Beau embraced; then Tipperton mounted his pony and followed Vail away, the buccan pulling the packhorse behind. Phais and Loric held one another tightly and kissed gentle and long; then Loric mounted and reined his steed about and, drawing a swift remount after, he followed Vail and Tipperton away into the blowing rain, while still in the mountains thunder rolled.

  And Phais and Beau watched them go, and when they were gone into the blowing grey, the buccan reached up and took the Dara's hand and together they walked back along the train as the rain fell down and down.

  On this day of unremitting rainfall, the wain drivers deliberately spread the train laterally wide, such that none followed directly in the tracks of another. Even so, in the rain-softened ground and in spite of the wide rims on the wheels, wains became mired, and extra of the massive horses were hitched to bogged-down wagons to haul them free. Still, progress was slow, and when evening came they had gone but six miles altogether, and the last wagons came to the encampment long after the first.

  The rain continued to fall, and as Beau sat under a canvas awning strung between his hospital wagon and two poles-"Huah. And here all along I thought armies swift across the land. But we've been at it, what, eight days now? Yes, eight days since we started overland, and we've gone but some seventy miles-"

  "A third of a league short of twenty-three," amended Phais.

  "Right, then, sixty-eight miles. And so I ask you, are armies always this slow?"

  "They are when they drag a great train behind," said Melon Phais nodded in agreement, then said, "Yet I have heard from Loric that the Vanadurin-"

  "Who?" asked Beau.

  "The Vanadurin, riders from the Steppes of Jord."

  "Oh."

  "Loric says that they can cover enormous distances in a remarkably short time."

  "Like what?"

  Phais looked down at the buccan. "On open plains, fifty miles a day for days on end, without remounts."

  "Fifty-?"

  "I have heard it, too," interjected Melor. "Something to do with varying the gait. It's called a long-ride, I believe."

  "Aye," agreed Phais. "Loric says that they have superb horses as well, and they keep them in fine trim-rich grass and choice grain, good water, and they ride them into splendid fitness and school them well in the ways of war."

  "Fifty miles a day," said Beau, yet dwelling on the figure given by Phais. "And we go, what, ten?" He looked up at Melor and grinned. "We need a new army, eh what?"

  Far out front, another twenty-five miles or so, Tip looked with dismay at another ravine, this one with a raging stream racing through. "Oh, my, they'll never get the wagons across at this rate."

  Loric stood and glanced at Vail. "They are yet two or three days behind, given the softness of the soil."

  "Mire, you mean," growled Tip. "A regular Muddy Flats."

  "Muddy Flats?" asked Vail.

  "A crossing along the Wilder River: a ford when the b
anks are dry, a quag when it rains."

  Loric gestured southward. "The land behind is not quite as bad as you would have it, Tipperton. Even so, by the time the train arrives, this river will yet be raging, for it comes down from the Rimmens, where the bulk of the storm fell, and will take days to run dry again."

  "On the morrow we will look for a crossing place, a ford," said Vail, "and wait for outriders to come and show them what we've found and let them bear word back to the train."

  "But what if there's no crossing?" asked Tip. "What then?"

  "Then we and the train will wait together for the water to subside and cross as we did at the last gulch."

  Tipperton growled in frustration.

  Loric scanned about. "Let us look for a place to set camp out of this weather."

  And so they mounted up and rode toward the mountains, where perhaps they would find a cave, a woodland, an overhang.

  The rain let up during the night and by next morning was reduced to a blowing mizzle. And when the wagon train set out, the wains well separated laterally, the cavalcade and vanguard rode even farther wide. As Bwen had barked at Ruar, "It's troublesome enough rolling across these drenched hills without having you churning it up ahead."

  And once again the spare great horses were harnessed in six-horse teams to hale any mired wagons free. And ere they had gone half a mile the first of the wains became bogged.

  Above the roar, Tip shouted, "Lor', I think I could jump my pony over this." He looked across the gap of the narrow stone gorge, no more than twenty feet wide. Fifty feet below, a rage of water thundered through the long, narrow slot.

  Loric turned to Vail and called, "Can we find timber, this is the place to cross."

  "A bridge, you mean?" shouted Tip.

  "Aye. The timbers will have to be sturdy."

  Vail peered 'round. "There is none heavy enough easterly. Mayhap among the valleys of the Rimmens we will find a stand."

  "Trees need water to grow tall," called Tipperton. "And if this stream flows each time it rains, then somewhere near the headwaters is where I'd look."