"We're thinking of leaving, you know," said the wife, a large red-faced woman with ginger hair. "The others neara-bout along this road, they're gone, and winter travel, though usually slow, has completely disappeared. You are the first we've seen in weeks and weeks."
"Where will you go?" asked Tip, tearing off a hunk of bread.
"We have relatives in Dael who will put us up until all this blows over."
"Oh my," said Beau. "Oh my."
Phais sighed. "Then we bear ill news for ye, I'm afraid."
"Ill news?" said the daughter, a slender image of her mother, glancing at her dam and sire. "For us?"
"Aye," said Phais, "and there's no soft way to tell ye."
"Then just tell us," said the innkeeper, reaching out and grasping his wife's hand.
"Dael is destroyed," said Phais, "by Dragon and fire and blizzard storm."
"My sister," breathed the wife, her eyes pleading.
"There were no survivors," said Phais.
Bekki growled but said nought…
… as softly fell the tears.
On the twelfth day after leaving Bridgeton they rode up a long slope toward a low set of hills, and late on the following day they crossed over a running ridge connecting the Rimmen Mountains in the north to the Skarpals in the south. It was the fifteenth day of January when they came into Garia and rode down the far slope and onto the broad plains of that land. At last they had gotten past all the mountains that stood between them and their goal. And so due north they turned, smiles on every face, for from here it was but two hundred eighty straight miles over gentle rolling hills to Dendor in Aven, where they hoped to deliver a coin.
Chapter 5
"And you said this was going to be the easy part," hissed Beau as he lay bellydown in the snow, sling in hand.
"Beau, I only said that the land would be gentle, with rolling hills and such," replied Tip, peering at the campsite below, arrow ready, "and nothing about maggot-folk at all."
On the far side of the Crystal River-the border 'tween Garia and Aven-a small company of Foul Folk stirred. In the still air the smoke from their fire rose straight into the sky. It was this plume which had alerted the comrades as they had ridden northward in the morning, the sixth after coming into Garia.
Tip turned to Bekki. "Why do you think they're guarding the ford? I mean, it's winter and the river frozen. We can cross anywhere."
"Who knows the minds of Grg?" replied Bekki, his knuckles white on his war hammer.
"Gyphon," said Beau. "Modru."
Bekki scowled at Beau but said nothing.
"Mayhap they were sent by Modru to wait for the turning of spring," said Phais, "for then this will be the singular crossing in the region."
"They could be deserters," said Beau, "like those we saw in Riamon."
"Deserters or no, warders or no, still we must pass them by," said Loric, "for they are too many to engage."
Bekki hissed in exasperation but said, "Aye. Still, I do not like running from Grg."
"We'll not be running," said Tip.
"Nevertheless," growled Bekki.
Phais pointed leftward. "Yon, toward the slopes of the Rimmen Ring, there on the far flank of the second hill west, there where the river curves 'round, we should be able to cross over unseen."
Carefully they backed away from the crest and fared downslope to the animals.
Steel-shod hooves knelled on the ice.
"Can they hear the river ringing?" hissed Beau. "-The Rupt, I mean."
"Mayhap," said Loric, spurring his horse. "Swift now!"
Across the frozen river they dashed, two horses and three ponies, their riders astride, drawing two pack animals behind. Up the far bank and into the hill country beyond they galloped, and if there was any pursuit, the comrades saw it not, for the Spawn were afoot and could not catch the running steeds even if they ran after.
"Foul Folk in Aven," said Tipperton as the snow drifted gently down. "It does not bode well."
"I think in this war they'll be everywhere," replied Beau. "I mean, way back when we first saw the fire on Beacontor, Tip, you said it could signal wide war, and now we find it is true. Indeed, wide war does burn on Mithgar; we can certainly testify to that."
Bekki reached across the small sheltered fire for the pot of tea. "Aye. War burns, yet we skulk past the foe."
"We should do nought to jeopardize the mission," said Phais, "or delay it."
"Indeed," replied Bekki, setting the pot back on the fire, snowflakes sissing in the flames. "Even so, as I have said before, it galls me to leave living foe behind; there is no honor in that."
"Nor at need is there any disgrace," said Phais.
Bekki looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Mayhap not, yet the sooner we deliver the coin, the sooner we can engage."
"Wisely, I hope, and not rashly," said Tip.
"Ha!" barked Bekki. "This from the one who said 'Rescue me from behind' and leapt up in the face of the Grg."
Tip turned to Loric and appealed, "Did you think that was rash?"
Loric sighed. "Let us merely say 'twas precipitous."
Tip turned to Bekki to smile in triumph, only to find the Dwarf grinning.
"Wull," said Beau, "let's just hope that we don't find any more Foul Folk lurking between here and Dendor. I mean, Tip promised me a gentle trip across Aven, and a gentle trip I would have."
"The village is ablaze," said Phais. "We'll have to swing 'round."
"But what if they need help?" asked Beau, peering at the smudge in the sky.
"Just as we did in Valon," said Tip, "we'll have to pass burning towns by."
Beau looked at Bekki. "I'm beginning to agree with you, Bekki: the sooner we get rid of that blasted coin, the sooner we can help. In that, we are much alike."
Bekki glanced at the healer's satchel behind Beau's saddle and shook his head. "Alike? I think not. For you would engage to save lives, my friend, whereas I mean to quench them instead."
Wide of the conflagration they rode, slipping past the foe. And the next day they did likewise, for another hamlet was in flames, this one filled with Foul Folk running amok.
Beau sighed. "Oh, Tip, it is as you feared: Rucks and such are indeed in Aven, slaying, looting, destroying all."
Tipperton shook his head grimly. "I wonder, Beau, given the foe are here, just what does it portend for Dendor beyond?"
Instead of ten days from the Crystal River to Dendor it took two weeks for the five to cross the two hundred miles between, for Spaunen patrols swept the land. Often the companions had to wait for night to avoid being spied on the plains. And on one of these days they were seen by a lone Ruck running westerly, going where for what reason none knew. And Loric ahorse rode him down from behind and slew him ere any alarm could be raised.
Yet north and north they went through weather foul and fair, avoiding discovery, swinging wide of their intended route, lying low for candlemarks on end, but coming ever back to the course.
And no longer did they build campfires, much to Beau's dismay. "Tea," he said. "I need my tea, and the Foul Folk are keeping me from it. If for no other reason, Bekki, you can kill them for depriving me of such."
Closer they came and closer still until at last they rode up through the hills which would bring them to the ridge above Dendor, and Tip's heart lay uneasy within his breast. And the closer they came the more he dreaded looking down upon the plain.
And Loric glanced at Phais, her lips drawn grim. "Dost thou hear, chier?"
She nodded.
"What?" asked Beau. "What do you hear?"
"Drums," replied Phais, "bugles, shouting, and the clash of arms."
"Drums?" asked Tip. "Like those that pounded before the gates of Mineholt North?"