The Dragonstone

CHAPTER 28

The Elves rode back the way they had come, Aiko now in their band, following the trade road south and west and leaving Black Mountain behind. The way was yet covered by snow and the going hard, and riders and horses took turns breaking trail for one another, as well as for the ponies following after. They wended their way through the Grey Mountains, moving ahead by day and resting by night among the cold cheerless stone. And the moon on the nights it could be seen slowly waxed from half to full and then waned to half again ere they came once more unto the village of Doku.

The trembling villagers were dismayed that the demons had returned, their ranks strengthened by one, and that one disguised yellow as if she were a villager herself-a deception which fooled no one. Yet the people of Doku were heartened when the demons traded gold for supplies: food, grain, and charcoal for cooking. And when they left two days later, again the villagers celebrated, hoping that this time the demons were gone for good… though some in Doku counted their newfound wealth and wondered whether dealing with demons was all that bad… yet knowing all the while deep in their hearts that if any of these strange beings had ever changed into the monsters they truly were, no amount of gold would suffice.

West they rode, did Arin and her companions, breasting through the snow, and days passed and some days more, until in all a week after leaving Doku they came to the broad flat between where the Grey Mountains ended and the Grimwall Mountains began. Some two hundred miles wide it was, with little shelter between, and on the day they arrived at its edge, a brutal polar wind thundered south through the great gap from the icy Barrens above.

"We cannot venture out in that," called Melor above the yowl. "The horses and ponies will die in a matter of strides."

From the shoulder of the foothill the travelers looked out at the howling, brumal blow, snow and ice flying horizontally across the stony flats. With a sigh of resignation, Arin turned her horse back toward a sheltering ravine they had passed but a quarter-mile arear.

On the edge of this gap they huddled some four days waiting to risk a crossing. At last the wind faded and they rode pell-mell northwesterly, the way before them nearly swept clean by the savage polar blast, and they covered the span in just over six days altogether. And Dame Fortune smiled down upon them, for no sooner had they reached the protection of the foothills of the Grimwall on the far side than the wind rose up in fury, as if raging at missing easy prey, and snow rode in on its angry wings.

Now they fared along the southern flank of the Grimwall, following the old trade route, no longer used this far west, or so they deemed.

Nearly a month later, on March nineteenth, they espied the Wolfwood to the south and west and rode along its northern marge, where the abandoned path wended its way through the foothills above.

The next night in a freezing rain they celebrated the vernal equinox by stepping through the Elven rite, with Arin and Rissa guiding Aiko through the intricate steps. Before they were finished, the rain turned to sleet and then to snow. Springday had come at last.

West they rode, passing beyond the bounds of the Wolfwood, and although they kept a sharp eye out, they neither saw Dalavar nor his Draega nor aught else in the yet wintry woods.

They passed north of the Skog and some days later forded one of the rivers flowing south to the Khalian Mire, the river waters on the rise with the coming of the snowmelt and the spring floods.

They camped in a thicket that night, and just ere bedding down, of a sudden Aiko hissed, "Quench the fire. Muzzle the horses. Peril comes."

Without question the Elves extinguished the blaze and drew their weapons and stepped in among the animals, soothing the steeds while all waited in the slender shadows. Overhead a waxing gibbous moon shone down on the land. And ere it had moved a handspan, Arin could hear the ching of armor and the distant thud of boots jog-trotting through the night. Now and again there came a snarl of language, but in a tongue she did not speak. Moments later in the moonlight, a jostling band of Rucha trotted into view, coming from the north, heading to the south.

Still the Elves stood silently as the Spaunen loped toward them and past and onward into the night beyond, and slowly the sounds faded in the distance. At last Aiko said, "It is safe once more. They are gone."

Arin turned to the Ryodoan warrior. "Until now I had thought that Elves had the keenest senses of all. How didst thou…?"

"My tiger told me," answered Aiko.

Arin looked at Aiko closely and wondered if it were true. Was it indeed wild magic that had warned her, or was it merely instead Aiko's heightened senses? Arin could not say… but in the end, she reflected, did it matter?

On the twentieth day of April they came to the stockaded village of Inge in the land of Aralan, where they spent that day and the next in the Ram's Horn, resting, relaxing, and replenishing their depleted supplies.

They traded news and songs and were told "Somethin' be afoot in th' Mire, what wi' droves o' Rutches and such movin' down from the Grimwall. Either that or somethin' in th' mountains be drivin' them out." What that something might be-either down in the Khalian Mire below or up in the Grimwall above-none could say. But whatever it was, it had to be bad, or so opined the elders.

The next day Arin and their band rode onward, passing through Stoneford, where the single family of that hamlet helped them across the spring-flooded river… for a small fee, of course.

Westerly they fared, ever westerly, along the southern flank of the Grimwall, following the old tradeway, riding through rain and occasional light flurries of snow as well as through lengthening sunny days as spring drew across the land. They forded rivers and streams, and passed through foothills and mountain spurs, and camped in thickets or in open rolling land. Now and again they stopped in villages or hamlets or towns and took rooms at an inn. At other times they stayed overnight with woodcutters or crofters or hunters. But always the next day or so they took up the trek westerly once more… until on the fourth day of June they came at last to the foot of Kaagor Pass where stood the Silverwood.