… And so too was ended the war.
Chapter 39
Eight days later, when the host was finally ready to depart the environs of H?l's Crucible, the waters of the Avagon Sea yet rushed in through the gap where the shield wall once had been, but its thunder had abated, diminishing throughout the days as the great rift had begun to fill. And here nigh the place where once had stood a wall, Tip and Beau, Rynna and Linnet, gazed down from above.
"Lor', but I never thought I'd ever look upon the making of a new sea," said Beau. "What do you think they'll call it?"
"H?l's Ocean, I shouldn't wonder," replied Tipperton, pointing, where erupting upward came a blast of water, driven by an explosion far below.
"Farrin says the Utruni are going to calm the land," said Rynna, "working far below in the living stone to bring it all to rest. That's what they do, you know."
"There is fire down there, molten rock," came a gravelly voice from behind. It was Bekki. "The Stone Giants will be hard-pressed to work in a place little different from the bowels of a firemountain, a deadly dangerous place to be."
"Not anywhere I'd like to hang my hat," said Beau, hugging Linnet close.
"I came to say it is time to go," said Bekki.
Tip looked at Rynna and Linnet, then said, "We'll be right along."
Bekki nodded and turned and walked back toward the campsite.
Tip took a deep breath. "Well?"
Linnet nodded, then stepped to the rim and looked out on the forming sea. "Good-bye, Dinly. Good-bye, Nix." Linnet turned to look at the nearby cairn, but one among thousands. "Good-bye, Farly. May Elwydd hold you three in Her hand along with Alver, too."
Rynna, her shoulder healed by Mage Letha, stepped to the lip of what was once H?l's Crucible, and she held Tip-perton's bow, a red-shafted arrow fitted to string. Tipperton stepped up beside her, and he struck a lantern-striker to the woven red collar below the arrow head, and when it flared to life, Rynna drew the shaft to the full and let the arrow fly. Up it arced and up, loosed by an Elven bow, a phosphorescent streak running up through the clear dawn sky; far out above the waters it sailed, finally to arc over and down and down, to plunge at last into the dark flux of the inflowing sea.
"Good-bye, Alver and Dinly and Nix and Farly," she said, weeping. "We will hold you ever in our hearts."
Choking back tears, Tipperton and Beau stepped to their dammias, and taking them by the hand, slowly they trudged toward the host.
They fared back through the craggy hills and over the Dragonboat bridge. And when all the host had crossed over, the bridge was dismantled.
They rode to Caer Pendwyr in a fleet of Dragonships, did the wee Warrows, along with many of the captains and kings, along with DelfLords and corons and chieftains and other warleaders.
Many more would come by the great Gothonian ships, while still others rode northerly and away, away toward Jord and Riamon and Mineholt North. Still even more fared westerly, striking for the Greatwood and Darda Ery-nian and Darda Galion and Kraggen-cor and Arden Vale beyond, or striking for Pellar and Valon and Jugo and Hoven. But many waited in the port of Adeo, waited for ships to come and take them to Tugal and Vancha and Basq, to Gelen and Gothon, some to sail to ports along the Ryngar Arm of the Weston Ocean, where they would disembark for Trellinath and Wellen, Dalara and Thol, or to ride through these lands to the Jillian Tors and Rian.
But Tip and Rynna and Beau and Linnet rode away in a Jutlander Dragonship, leaving H?l's Crucible behind. Yet though they quitted the place itself, they could not escape its terrible memories; these they bore with them and away.
And down the Ironwater and into the deep blue of the Avagon Sea they rode, sailing south for three days to turn west. Four days later, seven in all after setting sail, they disembarked at the harbor of Pendwyr in Hile Bay, there below the High King's caer.
The city welcomed them with joy.
Uncomfortably, Tipperton turned about so that Rynna could see the fit of his new satin clothes, a deep sapphire blue to match his eyes, white ruffles and trimmings all 'round.
"Oh, but you look splendid, Tip," said Rynna, she herself clothed in a muted yellow gown, white ribbons crisscrossing her bodice.
Tipperton sighed.
"Come, now," said Linnet, "it can't be all that bad."
"It'll be right fun, if you ask me," said Beau, clothed in satin as well-brown with tan ruffles and trim. "We've done this before, you know, attended another ceremony that is, there in the city of Dendor."
His fists on his hips, Tip turned to Beau. "Right fun? Beau, if I remember correctly we were crawling about on the floor."
"Crawling about on the floor?" Linnet turned to Beau.
"Ah, well, hem, love, we couldn't see, you see, and we were trying to get to a place-"
"How undignified," said Linnet, the dammen gowned in brown, tan cording about her waist.
Tipperton laughed; Rynna, too. Beau looked at Linnet and grinned foolishly, and she broke into giggles.
Somewhere in the distance a gong sounded.
Tip drew in a deep breath and said, "Might as well get this over with."
Rynna slipped her arm through his, and likewise did Linnet take Beau's, and together they left their quarters in the High King's castle and stepped into the hall beyond.
On their way through the labyrinthine passages, they were joined by Bekki and Loric and Phais, and on they strode amicably, chatting of inconsequential things, Bekki growling that it all was a bother, Tipperton clearly agreeing. At last they came to the great throne chamber, and it was filled with hundreds of people, the conversation a babbling roar. Yet when the majordomo hammered his stave to the marble floor and announced "Sir Tipperton Thistledown and Lady Rynna," and, "Sir Beau Darby and Lady Linnet," a hush came over the assembly. And when the War-rows stepped forward to come down into the hall, someone began to applaud, and then so did they all… and a cheering broke out, and the four wee ones were swept into the whirl of the crowd, lords and ladies pressing 'round, all talking at once.
Buccan and damman, they did their best to answer the questions put to them:
Yes, a village up along the Rissanin, a village now destroyed.
Silverroot and gwynthyme in equal proportions.
Yes, true gemstones. No no, their eyes, not ours.
Oh yes, it is a splendid city.
Mage Imongar at Dendor is the one who actually slew it.
From the Boskydells and the Wilderland.
One, a daughter. Her name is Lark.
A miller in Twoforks.
Yes, indeed, it was my Beau's words which reminded Tipperton of the tale of a giant and the fly on the wall, a wall broken by the giant, bringing ruin. And so Tipperton simply asked the Utruni to do the same.
Madam, I assure you, I am a full-grown Warrow and not an Elvenchild.
No, it was completely destroyed.
A Gjeenian penny: small and round with a hole in it.
It's nearly all filled with water now, a brand-new sea.
We met at Caer Lindor.
I don't see how he could have escaped; his body was never found…
Buccan and dammen were greatly relieved when the majordomo hammered the floor and announced, "My lords and ladies, and honored guests, the Lord High King Blaine."
The crowd parted and pushed back to form a central aisle, and the Warrows found themselves off to one side and pressed all 'round by tall people.