Into the Forge

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 from 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.

The next dawn found huge horses being led to wains and harnessed and hitched to great wagon tongues, while Elves saddled their own mounts and lashed goods to pack animals, and big men cinched big saddles to big horses and tied bedrolls behind. And down among the horses and Elves and Baeron, two Warrows saddled two ponies and tied their goods after.

Finally all seemed ready and the wains pulled out in a long line along the road, flanked on either side by men on horses. In the fore, mounted Baeron and Elves waited, and farther out a vanguard of Elves and horses stood.

Vail, a packhorse tied behind, signaled Tip, and he turned to Beau. "Well, bucco, it looks as if we're about to start. I'll see you when I can."

Beau nodded glumly but said nought, and Tip mounted his pony. As Tipperton reined the animal 'round, Beau said, "Now you take care, Tip. I mean, you've a coin to deliver, and I don't want to see you here at one of the healers' wains." Beau's eyes flew wide. "Oh, my, I didn't mean that how it sounded. Of course you must come should you need patching. I just meant you ought to take care and not need any patching whatsoever."

"Don't worry about me, Beau. I have it on good authority that Warrows make the best scouts of all, right?" And with that he kicked heels to flank and the pony trotted away.

Beau mounted his own pony and rode to his assigned hospital wain.

Moments later from somewhere ahead a horn sounded, and with slaps of reins and chrks of tongues and calls of Hai! and Yah! the wagon train began to roll.

For two days the caravan fared eastward, and nigh noon of the second day a rumor spread down the line that a pair of scouts had come racing west unto the column moving east along the road. It was Elon and Lyra come back from Landover Gape at the Rimmen Ring, or so the rumor said.

And near midtrain-"I don't like this not knowing," said Beau. "Buzz and tittle-tattle is all we hear, and as to the truth of it, there's none to be had hereabout."

Melor laughed. " "Pis always so, wee one, that speculation flies on the wings of conjecture. Yet take heart, for are we to go into battle, truth will soon arrive."

"Battle? Who said anything about battle?"

"No one, my friend, no one at all, at least not that we've yet heard."

"See what I mean!" growled Beau.

" 'Tis the track of a catamount, Tipperton," said Vail at last. "Seldom do they come this far into the darda."

"Perhaps it was driven," said Tip, scanning the surround, seeing no movement other than birds flitting among the lattice of greenery above.

Vail nodded. "Indeed. Mayhap its haunts in the Rim-mens have been overrun. When Lerren comes, we'll send word back to Eilor and Ruar."

Tipperton squatted and took another look at the impressions. The buccan had wondered why they were scouting within the northern reaches of Darda Erynian. After all, if it was protected not only by Hidden Ones but by the Baeron too, then it would seem fruitless to scout in such well-warded quarters. Yet with the finding of these tracks, perhaps he had an answer.

He looked at Vail. "How old would you make these? Five days? Six?"

"At least a sevenday, for when they were made the soil was yet wet, soft from rain-see how each print spreads?- and when last it stormed 'twas just ere we set out from Bircehyll. After these were laid the soil dried, binding hard the spoor."

Tipperton nodded, then stood and glanced through the rustling leaves at the sun passing overhead. "Shouldn't we be on our way? I mean, don't we have some distance to go to reach the rendezvous with Lerren?"

"Indeed," said Vail, standing as well. "Yet just as today, we will see him on the morning."

They mounted up and rode on eastward, wending among the trees.

In late afternoon Tipperton and Vail reached the clearing and rode up the hillside where to their surprise they could see two tethered horses: one bearing a saddle, the other with a modicum of goods lashed to a pack frame. As they did so, Alor Lerren stood up out of the tall grass and called, "Hai roi, vi didron velles! "

"Kal ce iyr? "

"Iyr."

"What did he say?" asked Tip.

"He brings news."

"For good or ill?"

"He said 'twas ill."

"Oh." Tip felt his heart plummet.

They reached Lerren and dismounted.

"What is this news thou dost bear, Alor Lerren?" asked Vail.

"Nigh noon, Lyra and Elon brought word: Spaunen raze Braeton."

Tipperton frowned. "Oh, my, another town-ill news indeed. This Braeton, it's just inside Rimmen Gape, isn't it?"

"Aye," replied Lerren.

"How many Rupt?" asked Vail.

"Mayhap a thousand."

"Ah," said Vail, "a segment."

"Segment?" asked Tip.

"A tenth of a Horde," replied Lerren.

"Oh."

"Is there aught else?" asked Vail.

Lerren looked at the buccan. "Coron Ruar remembers the pledge he made unto Sir Tipperton, and he bids ye twain to return unto the main host and join the war council."

Vail raised an eyebrow and gestured eastward. "What of scouting this verge?"

Lerren frowned. " 'Tis my task now."

"And thy messenger?"

"Arylin… though each of us would rather ride in the vanguard."

Vail smiled. "If and when it comes to battle, thou wilt surely be called in from the flank."

Lerren shrugged, then asked, "Is there aught I should know of what ye have seen this day?"

Vail looked at Tip. "We saw the tracks of a catamount," said the buccan. "And perhaps now we know why it was driven from the Rimmens, given that maggot-folk are in the gape."

"Aye," agreed Lerren. "Mayhap they crept through its domain to come upon Braeton, and it fled to the safety of Darda Erynian." He glanced at Vail and then back to Tipperton. "Is there aught else?"

Tip shook his head, and Vail turned up a hand.

"Then ye had better be on thy way, else ye will be late to the council."

Both Tipperton and Vail mounted and with a "fare thee well" they rode down the hill and away, heading southerly for the Landover Road and the host and war. As Tipperton entered the forest again, he found his heart beating heavily within his chest.

As they rode into the evening campsite, Tipperton and Vail saw Coron Ruar's war council nigh the head of the camped train. They were gathered in a circle on a sward below the outreaching limbs of an oak. Tip was surprised to see Beau sitting in Ruar's circle, Melor at his side. There, too, were Chieftain Gara and Wagonleader Bwen of the Baeron and two other Baeron men, along with several Dylvana, among them Eilor and Lyra and Elon. Phais and Loric attended the council as well.

Beau scooted aside and made room for Tipperton, and he and Vail sat.

Ruar nodded at the two in acknowledgement, then motioned toward one of the Baeron. "Thou wert saying, Durul…?"

"Just this, Coron: as much as I would like to lay these Wrg by the heels, our mission is to lift the siege at Mine-holt North. If we stop to fight every ragtag band of Foul Folk along the way, we'll be months longer getting there and less when we arrive."

Bwen snorted. When faces turned her way, she said, "And just how do you propose we not fight these Spawn?"

Durul raised a questioning eyebrow.

Bwen gestured westward along the road. "I've a hundred wains filled with food and weapons and grain for the steeds and medicks and other such. We cannot roll them across the peaks of the Rimmens, no matter how hard we try. Nay, if the wagon train is to accompany the host to Mineholt North, it's through the Rimmen Gape or not at all. Heed: if you would have me and my wagons, we'll have to fight our way through."

Durul blew out a breath in exasperation, but nodded in reluctant agreement.

Gara looked from Durul to Bwen and then 'round to all others in the ring. "Has any a suggestion as to how we can bypass the Wrg at Braeton?"

A sudden rage filled Tipperton's heart, and he jumped to his feet, his fists clenched. "Bypass them? I say we kill them all."

Beau reached up and tugged at Tip's pant leg, but the buccan was too furious to heed. "They're maggot-folk, responsible for untold deaths, not only at Braeton, but also at Stede and Annory and unnumbered places elsewhere: the Kingsmen at Twoforks, the Dylvana and Baeron and War-rows at Caer Lindor." His face twisted in anguish. "They killed my Rynna, and all of them deserve to die for it. All of them."

Coron Ruar held forth a hand, palm out, and his gesture stopped Tipperton's words. And the buccan ground his teeth and plopped back down, yet the anger did not leave his face.

Now Ruar spoke, his words soft in the growing twilight. "Durul has a point in that our main endeavor is to lift the siege at Mineholt North and not to engage every foe along the way. Yet so too does Bwen, in that the wagons must go through Rimmen Gape. Too, e'en should we find a way to bypass them, I would not have Rupt at our backs. And so it seems we have no choice but to engage the foe at Braeton, as Sir Tipperton desires. How to engage them such that we suffer the fewest losses becomes the problem before this council."

"Seek not to accomplish by brute force that which cunning and guile will achieve instead," said Phais.

"Eh?" said Gara, looking first to her and then to Ruar and then back to Phais again. "Why say you this thing?"

Slowly Phais smiled. "I say it, Chieftain Gara, for given the information brought by Lyra and Elon, I have the seed of a plan."

The council over, Tip and Beau walked toward the rope corral where their ponies were penned. And Beau stopped and turned to his friend, Tip stopping as well.

"I say, Tip, I don't know what's gotten into you, raging at Gara as you did. I mean-"

Tip threw up a hand. "You're right, Beau. I was over the line, but something in me snapped. I mean, the thought of maggot-folk going unpunished, well…"

"I know, Tip. I know. With what they did to Rynna and Wink and the others… -But listen, are we the ones, or rather, are you the one, to set the scales to right? I mean, is it yours to gain vengeance for all?"

"Perhaps not for all, Beau, but for Rynna, yes: I am the one who will make them pay."

"Well then, tell me this, bucco: just how many will you have to kill before the balance is struck?"

A stricken looked came over Tipperton's features, and Beau turned and walked onward, saying, "Just as I thought."

"I was in the council, Tip, because Ruar said that healers would need to ride with the vanguard, and Melor was chosen to do so, and he chose me in turn. And we joined in on the planning."

"Oh, Beau, by riding in the vanguard, you'll be in the thick of things. I should think you'd be much safer if you stuck with the wagons instea-"

"And I suppose you aren't in any danger?" interrupted Beau. "I mean, out there nearly all alone, just you and Vail, out where the Rucks and such can spring ambushes or run you down or what have you. At least I'll have an army surrounding me."

"Oh, Beau, let's not argue. I mean, we'll both be in the thick of it shortly. Just promise me two things: first is for you to keep safe, and second, if I should not make it through, find me and take the coin and deliver it to Agron, eh?"

"Oh, my, don't say that, Tip. I mean, we'll both make it through."

They curried in silence a moment longer, combs scritch-ing through pony hair, then Beau added, "'But if I shouldn 't make it through, promise me you'll deliver the coin in the end. I mean, that's what we set out to do, and surely if we don't, well then, the whole trip is wasted."

Tip nodded, then held out a little finger and said, "I promise."

Beau hooked his own little finger through Tip's and said, "I promise, too."

In that moment up and down the line mess triangles rang. Tip put away the curry combs while Beau packed the nosebags, and then they snatched up their kits and set off for the nearest cook wagon, where a short line of big men shuffled forward, tin plates and cups and spoons in hand.

Beau sniffed the air, then turned to Tip. "Ah, beans and biscuits: my favorite."

Three days later in the afternoon light, Tipperton crept toward the southern marge of the thicket, Lyra trailing after, and even with her keen Elven hearing she could detect but a faint rustle as the buccan moved ahead, sounding no more than a minor stir of a handful of leaves in a gentle zephyr, if that. Finally he paused, and Lyra came up alongside him.

Out from the screen of the copse they peered and down a gentle slope, and finally Tipperton pointed. In the near distance and partly concealed in the shadows of an outcropping lounged a Rucken lookout.

"Dost thou see the signal horn?" breathed Lyra.

"From here I can't tell." Tip gestured leftward. "But if we move…"

Up and to the left they crept, and finally Tipperton stopped again.

"See the baldric?" asked Lyra. "Over his left shoulder."

Tipperton saw the leather strap, and now at the Ruck's hip he could see- "Yes, he has a horn."

"As expected," said Lyra.

Beyond the warder and far downslope, Tip could see the town of Braeton, or what remained of the town. And there, too, he could see a great stir of movement as Foul Folk yet looted and razed. But even though the destruction was great, they had not put the town to torch.

The two remained silent and motionless for long moments, and then Tip looked at the sentry once more and murmured, "It's as you and Elon said: he stands where he has good view of the road to the west as well as the town below."

Lyra nodded, then whispered, "Aye, 'tis the highest of the two high sentries along this western slope. There are two others who stand watch on the eastern approach, though they are of no moment."

"Where is the sentry Vail and Elon go after?"

Lyra pointed. "Downslope and left. There by the crag."

Tip peered long. At last he saw the lower sentry shift about. "And these are the two who can best see westward?"

"Aye."

They watched a moment more, then Lyra added, " 'Tis as we said in council: judging by placement of the sentries- these two as well as the others-they do not expect a force to emerge from north within the darda and advance south through these hills, for they fear those woods and would not come that way themselves. Instead they believe if any come from the darda it will be eastward along the road."

"Ah, I see. And so this warder and the one below scan the commonplace approach."

"Aye," replied Lyra, "as do the sentries on the far side of town; they watch the road yon as well. Yet watching the road or not, the sentry below and his comrade just beyond will alert the others if we do nought but watch them watching, for after sunset the vanguard will arrive, and they will not come creeping on catspaws as did we, but on the hammer of iron-shod hooves instead."

They waited moments more, and the sun crept down and down, to finally slide below the horizon.

Twilight stole over the land 'neath a waxing half-moon.

Tip glanced at Lyra.

"Aye. 'tis time," she said. "Elon and Vail are surely in position now and await our signal." She set an arrow to her string, and hastily Tip did the same. "We will loose together," she murmured, "for 'tis unlikely both shall miss."

Tip nodded.

"Thou shalt count off, and we loose on three," Lyra added.

Again Tip nodded, and Lyra drew and aimed, Tip doing likewise.

And of a sudden he realized that he was to slay an unsuspecting foe -whereas before it had been kill or be killed -shoot him in the back -yet the Ruck below Come on, bucco, you can do this.

– didn't know.

Shakily Tipperton lowered his bow.

Lyra looked at him inquiringly, then lowered her own bow.

"He doesn't even know we are here," hissed Tip.

Lyra nodded and then whispered, "Think of all who have been slain by his ilk. Too, think of the folk in Brae-ton, for surely they lie dead. Think as well on those slain at Stede and Annory and at Caer Lindor betrayed: Baeron, Elves, Waerlinga, thine own Rynna and-"

Tipperton threw out a hand to stop her words, an echo of his own said but three days past. He gritted his teeth and raised his bow once again, as did Lyra after.

Inhale full, exhale half, aim…

"One… two… three-"

Th-thnn strummed two bowstrings, ssss… two arrows whispered through the air to th-thnk! into the Rucken ward, cruel iron points punching in through back and out through chest, and with a grunt he toppled forward to lie in a sodden heap alongside the outcropping.

"Come now," said Lyra. "We must take him from that place and conceal the evidence of his slaying."

"But-"

"Nay, Tipperton. No buts, for I need the garments. Too, others may come to relieve him, and we would not have them sound an alarm."

And so, staying low, they scurried down the hill in the twilight and took up the slain warder, the Ruck's eyes wide in surprise, yet seeming to stare accusingly at Tipperton as he carried the dead sentry by the feet while Lyra carried him by the shoulders.

Back to the thicket they went, the Ruck's horn dangling from a leather strap and clanking and chinging against rocks as it dragged on the ground. They dropped the corpse in the woods, and then down to the outcropping they scuttled once more, this time to take up a scimitar and a half-full canteen and a small bag holding meat dark and stringy, and to kick soil over the small amount of blood spilled.

Lyra stepped to the shielded side of the outcrop and waved toward a hummock downslope and easterly. Then she and Tip scurried back to the woods.

Then, while Lyra went to retrieve her horse and Tip's pony from the back slope of the hill, Tip stood watch from the thicket, the dead Ruck at hand.

Tip refused to look at the corpse lying there, two arrows piercing its back.

When Lyra returned, horse and pony in tow, she tied them to nearby slender trees, then squatted beside the Ruck and grunting, straining-thud-she pulled one arrow completely through, and then-thud-the other. She handed Tipperton's to the buccan, the point and shaft and fletching slathered and dripping with dark grume.

Tipperton turned and grabbed the shaft of a sapling as vomit spewed from his mouth.

Sometime after full dark Lyra stood. "Hist," she whispered.

Tipperton heard nothing and, peering outward, saw nothing. He shook his head. "What is it?"

"Someone comes."

Now Tip stood and strung arrow to bow.

But soft came a signal: a faint chirrup, and Vail came slipping among the saplings. " 'Tis done. Elon stands watch in place of the lower sentry."

"Well and good," said Lyra, getting to her feet. "I will return soon." She stepped to her horse and untied the reins and led it northwesterly through the thicket.

Vail turned to Tipperton. "Art thou secure, Tipperton?"

Tip nodded.

"Then I am off to rejoin Elon. Should come a change of guard, we should stop them. Yet if perchance a Rupt comes here first, thou dost know what to do." At Tip's brief nod, Vail slipped away through the night.

The buccan sat in the edge of the thicket, peering by the light of a nearly half-moon at the sentry post and hoping he would not hesitate and his own aim would be true should Rflcken relief come.

Finally he heard a faint jingle of armor and the sound of heavy hooves. And shortly Lyra came slipping through the thicket again, a huge man at her side along with a tiny form.

It was Durul -and Beau.

"I just came to see how you were doing, Tip."

"Me, I'm all right," said Tip. "But I say, what about the wagons?"

"Oh, they're on the move and should be in position well before dawn."

"Good."

And they all sat quietly as the night slipped by, while down in the town torchlight and campfires burned.

At length the moon set, and still no Rucken relief came.

Just ere dawn and ignoring the blood and grime, Lyra slipped into the Ruck warder's garb and took up the horn. Then she went to the sentry rock and waited.

Now Tipperton and Beau and Durul moved to where they could see the road as well as the town.

In the dimness below they could make out the bowed canvas tops of the wagon train standing in a long line athwart the road, fetching up nigh the flank of a hill in the north and running into a grassy mead on the south. And in full view in the southern sward stood several of the great draft horses, though not nearly as many as were needed to draw all of the wagons.

Durul turned. "I go to prepare."

"Me too," said Beau.

Tipperton nodded. "I'll be ready."

Durul smiled and looked down at the Waldana. "Keep free of our horses, for doubtless with but one great hoof they could squash either of your tiny steeds."

Beau shook his head. "Not likely, Durul, we're tiny but quick."

Durul slipped away into the thicket, heading back toward the waiting vanguard.

"You keep safe, bucco," said Tip.

"You too," said Beau, and then he followed Durul away.

And Tip waited as dawn brightened, the day edging toward sunrise.

And still the wagon train sat quietly with no stir of movement, as if all were yet asleep.

The rim of the sun broached the horizon.

Lyra in Ruchen garb stood and blew the horn, the blats slapping and echoing among the crags. And she clambered atop the rock and blew again, frantically leaping up and down, her arms flailing akimbo as she pointed down at the stationary wains.

Another sentry farther downslope took up the blaring call, a sentry also in Ruchen garb, yet he stood atop the rock where Vail and Elon had gone.

Down in the shadows of the vanquished town a stir quickened.

And Spawn took up cudgels and scimitars and tulwars.

Foul Folk rushed down through the town and out onto the road to see, and some who had espied the standing train ran back to a roadside building and in.

And from somewhere within the town another horn blew, and Tip could see several of the Foul Folk stalk from the roadside building and mount waiting horses.

– Nay! Not horses, but Helsteeds instead!

Oh, no! It's some of those Ghill things!

And Tip racked his mind for what he could remember of them: Nearly unkillable. Terrible foe. Wood through the heart and beheading and fire. He could remember no more as the maggot-folk below scrambled into a ragged mass on the road.

Lyra hopped down from her post and came into the thicket and quickly shucked the Ruchen garb, her nose wrinkled as she did so. "I'll be chasing nits and lice and fleas for weeks can I not get a bath."

Again the horn blew, and the segment boiled westward, churning toward the waiting merchant train, where plunder and spoils were theirs for the taking as well as great horses for the eating.

"Come, Tipperton, 'tis time to ride." And Lyra and Tip leapt astride their mounts and rode through the coppice and away.

As they emerged from the thicket, they saw two other riders appear in the morning light and move toward them. And again they heard the Ruptish horn blat in the distance below. "Ah, it goes well," called Lyra to Vail and Elon, "just as Dara Phais planned."

From behind a wagon Bwen watched as the Wrg came seething down the Landover Road, cudgels and tulwars and scimitars in hand, Helsteeds with Guula astride in the fore with Rutcha and Drokha coming after.

She touched the morning star hanging from her belt, then took hold of a rope and called, "Bheith arfuirechas!" and her command was relayed down the line, not only in the Baeron tongue but in Sylva as well.

Now the Rutchen horn blew again, and the segment spread wide in a long line so as to swarm over all the wagons at once.

"Go maith!" she grunted under her breath and grinned, for two days back Phais had guessed they would do just that. All was going according to plan.

Once again the Wrg horn sounded, and with howls and squalls of triumph and baying ululations, the segment charged past the Helsteeds, past the Ghuls and their blowing horns, tulwars and scimitars and cudgels raised to smash down stupid merchants.

"Ullmhaigh, ullmhaig…" Bwen called and gripped the rope all the tighter, "fan, fan…"

And the long line of Wrg hurtled closer and closer, Helsteeds in their midst…

"Fan…fan…"

Howling, shrieking, the Spawn were nearly on top of the train…

And the ground shook from the hammer of heavy hooves.

"Anois!" shrieked Bwen, hauling on a rope with all her strength. "Anois!Anois!"

And everywhere along the line Baeron haled on ropes, and canvas was pulled up and across the arched wagon bows to reveal the Dylvana archers, arrows nocked, bows drawn taut -Ssssss… a sleet of arrows sissed forth all up and down the line, whispering of death in their flight, the trace of their fatal sounds unheard in the cries of the charging foe and lost in the thunder of heavy hooves Waugh! cried a thousand Rupt voices, their shouts of triumph turning to shrieks of fear as arrows slammed into their ranks, hundreds to tumble down, dead as they hit the ground.

Ssssss… hissed another hail of shafts, and more Spaunen fell as they tried to turn and flee -but then the column of heavy horses running four abreast smashed into and over and past fleeing foe as Baeron on their massive mounts thundered down the length of the ragged file of Spawn, limbs and ribs and spines and skulls smashing under thundering hooves and hammering maces and shearing blades and crushing morning stars, viscera and muscle and bone and brain bursting outward from the whelming blows of hoof and weapon alike And running alongside were two fleet ponies, with shrieking Warrows astride, arrows and sling bullets flying into the foe.

And racing after the heavy horse column came Dylvana on lighter mounts, swords reaving down those yet standing as the running steeds flew by.

And in the lead one of the massive horses crashed into and over a Helsteed; the Ghul astride, quilled with arrows, was smashed under, and there came the sound of breaking bones. Yet the corpse-white foe gained his feet, his barbed spear still in hand. And he stepped aside from the next galloping horse and, smiling a yellow-toothed grin, stabbed upward at the rider, the brutal spikes on the spear blade punching through the Baeran's stomach, knocking him back over the saddle cantle, driving the Ghul hindward and wrenching the weapon from the corpse-foe's grasp.

Yet as the Ghul stepped toward the felled man and took hold of the haft and stared down in malignant glee, there came a call-"Cha!"-and he looked up to see -Loric's blade flash as he thundered by-Schlak!-the face yet leering as the Ghul's head flew through the air to land in the way and be crushed 'neath smashing hooves, the Ghul's headless corpse yet holding the haft of the cruel barbed spear as it toppled sideways to fall under hammering hooves as well.

And when the thundering horses and two wee ponies and light Elven steeds had gone past and away-Sssss… – more Dylvana arrows sissed into the surviving Rupt, most to punch through the backs of the fleeing foe.

And now, led by Bwen, Baeron raced from behind the wagons, their great long legs overhauling the Wrg, shorter Dylvana leaping o'er wagon sideboards and dashing after, some with long-knives in hand, others yet loosing arrows.

And running easterly fled two Helsteeds, arrow-quilled Ghflls astride.

Yet riding after came the heavy horses of the Baeron and two fleet ponies. But Dylvana horses were swifter still, and Phais, Loric, Ruar, Eilor, Elon, Lyra, and a host of others raced in grim silence after the fleeing Ghulka, the Elves gaining with every stride, their keen blades glinting lethally in the morning sun.

Seeing that they could not catch the Guula, the Baeron turned the heavy horses and once again smashed over shrieking bands of the fleeing Rutcha and Drokha.

There were not many survivors when the Baeron and Dylvana on foot caught the scattered remainder.

And then there were none.

Leading horse and pony back toward the train, Ruar and Tipperton passed among the slain foe-bodies smashed, intestines and viscera burst and strewn, dead eyes staring from those faces not crushed, brains leaking from shattered skulls, limbs broken, arrows through throats and hearts and abdomens, gaping slashes yawning wide-a thousand pierced and hacked and crushed and broken corpses.

Tipperton was numbed by the carnage, for the face of war was hideous.

"Thou didst say to kill them all, Sir Tipperton, and kill them all we did, and thou canst see what we have done- the wreaking of havoc upon the enemy.

"Yea, mayhap they deserved this end, yet one cannot be casual about such, for to be so is to be no different from them."

On they walked, their route bringing them at last to the hospital wains, where among the healers tending the wounded, Beau stitched a tulwar cut on the leg of a Baeran. Nearby lay three cloth-covered bodies: two of them large, as of Baeron; one of them smaller, as of a Dylvana.

Ruar dropped the reins of his horse and stepped to the corpses and lifted the sheets away from their faces. Tipperton gasped, for although he knew neither of the Baeron, the slain Dylvana was Lerren, the scout who had come into Darda Erynian bearing Ruar's summons for Tipperton and Vail to join the war council, the scout who had relieved them there.

Ruar turned to the buccan. "And this is the price we paid for killing them all."

Tipperton burst into tears.