Into the Forge hc-1

by Dennis L Mcciernan

  It was some time ere they got control of themselves, and even then they broke out into suppressed chortles.

  "So the boat did you absolutely no good, eh?" asked Tip after a while.

  "Oh, no, to the contrary, Tipperton, it did us a wealth of good: not only did it keep us busy for a year or so, it also proved to be quite profitable, for when Aravan hauled us aboard, 'Nahvalr ivory,' he said upon seeing the necklace Kelek had made of the teeth. 'Have you the tusk as well?' And when we showed it to him, he marveled at its length and perfection, and told us the horn and the remainder of the ivory would bring a small fortune in the city of Jan-jong, there on the Jinga Sea, his next port of call, it seems.

  "And so, rather than rowing across the Bright Sea in a leaky, sinking boat, we sailed with Aravan and his forty men and forty Dwarves, the crew of the Eroean.

  "In Janjong, Kelek signed on with Aravan as a member of the Drimmen warband, but I went my separate way. In the succeeding seasons he rose to be second in command, I believe."

  "Did you ever see him again?"

  Loric sighed. "Nay. He remained with Aravan and sailed on the Eroean's last voyage. It was in the time of the destruction of Rwn, and Kelek acquitted himself most honorably in the final battle, though he did not survive to reach his beloved Red Hills again. There at the place of his death, they set a great pyre burning, and he and his other fallen comrades were sung up to the sky."

  They rode onward in silence, the laughter of moments before lost on the swirling wind.

  Gradually the land turned to stone, and crags jutted up all 'round. And they came to an opening between two bluffs, and here Loden signed for all to stop and he whistled as would a meadow lark; there came a call in return, and Loden spurred forward, the others following, and they rode through a short canyon to emerge on a wide slope. Up the slope Loden led them, and they came to a broad plateau ringed 'round by mountains, where they found the seven hundred armed and armored Daelsmen ensconced in a fire-less camp.

  ***

  Near midmorn, as he fared in the vanguard, Beau saw three riders approaching from the north. And as they drew nigh, he could see that one was Vail, one was Arylin, and the other someone unknown.

  With his heart thudding, "Oh, my," he said to Melor at hand, "Tip's not with her and neither is Loric. What do you suppose has gone wrong?"

  "Mayhap nought," said Melor.

  "Mayhap everything," replied Beau, his knuckles white 'gainst the reins, and he turned to make certain his medical satchel was affixed to his rear cantle.

  And Melor said, "Seek not to see through muddy waters, my friend, but wait until the bourne runs clear."

  "What?"

  "I merely advise that we not-"

  "Oh, I see," said Beau. "As my Aunt Rose always said, 'a bridge is easiest trod when underfoot.' "

  Melor smiled. "Aye."

  Beau shaded his eyes with a hand and peered northward at the three oncoming riders. "Can't their horses go any faster?"

  Again Melor smiled, but worry brooded deep within his gaze as well.

  Vail swung out wide and 'round, the others following, until all paced alongside Ruar. "My Coron, may I present Lord Brandt, son of King Enrik of Riamon, and emissary of his brother, Lord Loden, Prince of Dael." Now she turned to the man. "Lord Brandt, I present Coron Ruar of Darda Erynian. Too, I present Lord Gara, Chieftain of the Baeron of" the Great Greenhall."

  Beau looked at the youth dressed in light chain, a sword at his side, his coppery hair cut short.

  "We bring good news, my Coron," continued Vail. "Thirty-five score warriors of Dael wait to join us to free Mineholt North."

  Beau's eyes widened. Thirty-five score? Seven hundred men? Oh, my, that is good news indeed. And here I thought something gone wrong-Tip lying wounded or worse.

  "Kala!" declared Ruar, his face breaking into a smile. "And welcome, Lord Brandt, son of Enrik, the help you bring most welcome as well."

  ***

  Loric and Tipperton spent the remainder of the morning telling what news they held, and of Tipperton's mission to King Agron, and Loden and Bekki traded their news in return:

  The Foul Folk, it seemed, had come into the ring of the Rimmen Mountains through the wide breech at Bridgeton, there on the southeastern quadrant of the circular mountain range.

  Loden glanced over at Tip and Loric. "Though they bypassed Bridgeton, 'tis apparent now by your account that some marched on to Rimmen Gape, where they razed Brae-ton, while others came to set siege to Mineholt North."

  "What of the town of Dael, did they do no harm there?"

  Loden shook his head. "They marched right past, as if it held no interest whatsoever."

  Loric frowned. "Hmm. 'Tis not like Modru to leave such in his wake. Something foul is afoot, I ween. Mayhap he hopes to draw ye out of the town, and when it lies defenseless, then he will strike."

  Again Loden shook his head. "My sire and other brothers yet command an army within that walled city. It is well protected."

  "What of Trolls?"

  "Flames await them should they come. Caltrops too."

  Loric nodded. Oil fires was one defense against the behemoths. The spikes another.

  "Say," said Tip, looking at his sheaves of hand-drawn maps, "if they came through at Bridgeton, that means they came into the ring from the east."

  "Aye," said Loric. "They would not approach from the west, for there Darda Erynian lies, and they think it a bane."

  "No, no, that's not what I was getting at, Loric. Instead it is this: if they came down from the Grimwall and in from the east, that means they swarmed through Aven."

  Bekki turned up a hand. "And…?"

  Tip let out an exasperated breath. "Oh, Bekki, it's Dendor in Aven where I am bound, and if it's full of maggot-folk…"

  Bekki leaned over and touched a finger to Tipperton's sketch. "They could have come from the Skarpal Mountains instead-east and south of the ring."

  "Adon," growled Tipperton, "down from the north or up from the south, how are we to know?"

  Tip looked across at Loric and Loden, and Elf and man both shrugged, but Bekki said, "Waldan, you will discover whether or not the Grg are in Aven when you finally go there to deliver the coin."

  "But there's nothing that way except mountains," said Arylin.

  "Not so, my Lady," replied Brandt. "Beyond that craggy uplift is a passage through, one the wagons can manage. And though we will swing back nigh a league, it will save half a day overall."

  Arylin glanced at Vail and then Ruar, but it was Gara who said, "Lead on, Lord Brandt. The wagons will follow you." Gara turned to a Baeran at hand. "Durul, ride back to the train and tell Wagonleader Bwen we follow this man."

  Durul shook his head and grinned. "Oh, but won't we learn new words from Bwen, words hot enough to blister a hide when she discovers we need curl back a league to reach this passage."

  Nigh eventide, Bekki and Loden came to Tipperton and Loric, and Loden said, "I would have you accompany us to see the foe. Then you can both advise the Dylvana Coron and Chieftain of the Baeron whenever they come."

  Tip set aside his lute. "When do we go?"

  "Now," rasped Bekki, clapping his plain black-iron helm onto his head.

  Tip reached for the lute bags. "I'll have my pony saddled in a trice."

  "We go afoot, Waldan," said Loden.

  Tip nodded as he cinched tight the velvet bag.

  "We go armed and armored as well," added Bekki, hefting a war hammer, its poll face blunt, its peen a spike, and a thick blade in front for stabbing.

  Moments later, they headed easterly up the slope of the flanking mountain.

  ***

  It was twilight when the last of the wagons finally emerged from the long canyon, and Beau sighed in relief, for it had been nothing but a long trap should the Foul Folk have fallen upon them.

  Yet both Ruar and Gara had sent scouts through, some up on the flanks above; Brandt had said they could ride atop the walls, though in places it would be som
ewhat perilous. But he assured all that he had hunted ahorse up there, and indeed it could be ridden… and so it was.

  And now as the wagons trundled out and to a camp in the valley, where pickets warded all 'round, a crisp breeze sprang up and swirled Beau's cloak, and he shivered in the chill air.

  It was nigh midnight with a quarter moon rising among scudding clouds, when Tipperton and Loric and Loden and Bekki came through a scattering of pines and to the top of the last rough ridge, while all 'round a cold wind twined.

  "There," growled Bekki, pointing at the dale below. Yet his words were unneeded, for hundreds of fires burned in the lowland. "The Grg."

  Tipperton could smell smoke from the campfires clinging to the curling air, and now and again when the breeze blew just right he could hear the beat of drums.

  "A full Horde," gritted Loden, "in Riamon."

  "Where is the mineholt?" asked Tipperton.

  "Leftward, at the root of the vale," said Bekki, pointing again.

  Tip's gaze followed Bekki's outstretched arm. Against the stone of the mountain he saw-"That dull gleam, what is it? The mineholt?"

  "Aye," replied Bekki. "The shut gates cast back the light of their fires."

  "Tell me, Bekki," said Tipperton, "just how did you come to be outside when all your kindred are shut within? I mean-"

  "Hist!" shushed Loric, and he cocked his head this way and that in the twisting wind, drums now and then sounding. "Down!"

  Along with the others, Tipperton dropped to the rugged ground where moonshadows lay. His heart in his throat, he listened intently, but heard nought but the wreathing air and the sound of his own pulsing blood. He turned to Loric and breathed, "What is it?"

  "Rupt," replied Loric, pointing down the ridge, "a patrol, and they come this way."

  Tipperton looked rightward, and just topping a rise no more than thirty paces off and advancing toward them came trodding an armed squad of Spawn-a dozen altogether.

  Down beside Tipperton, Bekki growled and hefted his war hammer, and Loric and Loden drew swords. With trembling fingers Tip fumbled for an arrow as the maggot-folk came tramping on.

  Chapter 34

  Tipperton turned to his comrades and hissed, "Save me from behind," and then leapt to his feet and shouted "Yahhh!" and loosed an arrow at the oncoming Spawn. And even as the shaft sissed through the air to fell the Ruck in the lead, Tipperton, shrieking, dashed toward the startled maggot-folk and then veered in among the sparse pines.

  Bekki, cursing, started to rise from the moonshadows, but Loden grabbed him by the arm and hissed, "No! The Waldan's plan is sound."

  Yawling, the Rupt darted after the fleeing Warrow, and then Loric and Loden and Bekki sprang in pursuit, Loden, with his longer legs, racing before the Dylvana and the Dwarf, though they flew right on his heels.

  In the moonlight ahead, howling Rucks and Hloks dodged among the pine trees, chasing their small quarry, the buccan shrieking and drawing them after. And one of the maggot-folk hurled a short spear, the shaft flying at Tipperton's fleeing form to fall just short and stab into the ground.

  And as the yawling Spaunen patrol hurtled past the embedded spear, the Rutcha who had cast it slowed to snatch the shaft up, and Loden's blade ran him through from behind.

  His scream was lost among the howls of pursuit, as Loric and then Bekki ran past, now at the tail of" the yowling pack.

  Loden wrenched his blade free and sprang after, to pass by Loric and a beheaded Drokh, and then to overhaul running Bekki just as his war hammer crashed through a Wrg skull.

  But the eight howling Spawn yet chasing the shrieking Warrow noticed naught at all. Even so they had nearly caught up to the wee buccan, short-legged as he was. And as victory seemed within their grasp, three more of the Rflpt were felled from behind, one of them shrieking in death.

  And at this shrill cry from the rear, the next one in line looked over his shoulder and screamed in alarm, his squeal of terror lost in the howls of his four kith, yet intent upon catching the foe at hand.

  And the Hlok running in the lead yowled in victory as he snatched the buccan by the collar and wrenched him up in the air, the kicking Warrow flailing away as the Hlok turned to the others to display his catch, only to find that of the Spawn he alone was yet standing… and he faced an Elf'and a man with blood-slathered swords and a Dwarf with a grume-clotted hammer.

  And then Tipperton twisted and kicked him in the face, and the Hlok dropped the Warrow and reeled back, a long-knife to tumble through the air and take him in the throat.

  Panting and puffing- "Oh, my. Oh, my. Oh, my"- Tipperton looked up at Loric as the Elf retrieved his long-knife and wiped the blade clean. "I thought I was a goner when he snatched me up off the ground."

  " 'Twas a foolish thing you did, Tipperton," said Loric.

  "But clever," amended Loden.

  "And honorable," growled Bekki, "even though you did run."

  "It was the only thing I could think of," said Tipperton. And of a sudden he burst into tears.

  Bekki looked down in consternation, but Loden said, " 'Tis relief, Lord Bekki."

  Bekki frowned, then clenched a fist and grunted in agreement. "As sometimes sweats the steel of a sword in the forging."

  Loden raised an eyebrow, but Loric, kneeling beside the buccan, looked up and nodded at Bekki and said, "Just so."

  Loden looked back at the string of corpses sprawled along their route. "We must hide the evidence of this ambush, else the patrols will double."

  "Ambush?" queried Bekki.

  "Aye, a running ambush from the rear."

  "Nay," growled Bekki. "It was a full frontal attack from behind."

  In spite of his tears, Tipperton began to giggle.

  Two days later at midday, with Brandt in the lead, the vanguard and cavalcade and wagons finally arrived at the Daelsmen's hidden stand.

  At last Tipperton saw Beau come riding up the slope on his pony, and he set aside his lute and ran down to greet his friend. Beau leapt to the ground and the Warrows embraced, glad to see one another again.

  "I say, Beau, follow me. I'll show you where to corral your steed. They've plenty of grain and water, these Daelsmen."

  As they started up the hill and across the plateau, Beau asked, "What about food, Tip? I mean, I could stand a good hot meal."

  " 'Fraid not, bucco. We're too close to the maggot-folk for fires, you see."

  Beau groaned, then said, "Jerky and crue, I suppose."

  Tip nodded, then his eyes lit up. "Oh, but they do have some early apples, it being nearly October and all."

  "A bit green?"

  "Some. I wouldn't recommend eating very many."

  They came to an overhanging bluff, and in a simple rope pen holding the horses of the Daelsmen, Beau corralled his pony next to Tip's and one other.

  As Tip unstrapped Beau's bedroll and medical bag from behind the saddle, he said, "I'm glad to see you, Beau. How was the trip? Anything exciting along the way?"

  Beau sighed and shook his head. "The trip? Ploddingly slow. Excitement? Oh, we did see a bear, but that's it. Although it did seem a bit strange, the bear ambling along as it did on a course paralleling our own. The Baeron seemed to think it was special, though it was nought but a bear." He lifted the saddle up and away, the pony shaking side to side to be free of it. Beau rummaged through his saddlebags and retrieved his curry comb. "But how about you, bucco? Any excitement on your part?"

  Tip fetched his own curry comb and started on the opposite side. "Not much," he replied, "a minor tangle with some Spawn. And, oh, we did see the Horde in their siege on the mineholt. In fact, there's to be a war council this afternoon, after the wagons and all get settled in. Bekki says he'll find me when it's ready to begin. We three, we'll go together."

  "Bekki?"

  "A Dwarf, Beau, and a fine one at that. That's his pony behind you." Of a sudden Tip stopped currying and looked at one of the nearby horses. Then he resumed combing knots and tangles from the pony's hair, the
re where the saddle and trappings had ridden. "You know, Beau, just like the Dwarves at Annory, Bekki won't ride a horse, either. What do you think it all means?"

  Beau looked across at Tip and shrugged.

  Ruar gazed 'round at the war council. "We are gathered to decide on how best to deal with the Horde setting siege on Mineholt North.

  "We are one thousand Dylvana, five hundred Baeron, seven hundred Daelsmen, two Lian, two Waerlinga, and one Drimm: altogether, two thousand two hundred and five."

  On the left of the circle, one of the Daelsmen laughed. It was Brandt.

  Loden scowled at the youth. "You have something to say, Lord Brandt?"

  "I am sorry, my brother, but I found it amusing. -Oh, not that we were two thousand two hundred, but rather we were two thousand two hundred… and five."

  Loden started to speak, yet ere he could say aught, opposite across the circle Bekki growled, "Jeer not at the five, bratling, for two are Guardians, and their swords worth five hundred each; two are Waerans, one of which I have seen in battle, and I would not trade him for a full regiment of Daelsmen; and lastly, bratling"-Bekki's hand dropped to his war hammer-"one is me."

  Brandt flushed red in the afternoon sun, in anger or embarrassment it could not be told, but then he held his empty hands forth in surrender and, grinning, said, "I yield, Lord Bekki, I yield."

  Beau looked wide-eyed at Tip and whispered, "What did Bekki mean, he's seen you in battle? And what's all this about being worth a full regime-?"

  Beau's words were cut short by a rumble from Gara, the Chieftain among the Baeron and sitting across from Ruar. "We are not here to bandy words at one another, but to plan the defeat of the Horde."

  "Just so," replied Ruar. He turned to Bekki. "I have numbered the forces without. Wouldst thou number the forces within?"

  Bekki nodded. "We Chakka in Mineholt North cannot match your number, yet we can field nine hundred or so."

  Ruar took in a breath and expelled it. "Then together we number thirty-one hundred."

  "Thirty-one hundred and five," breathed Beau.