"This will be the way of it: all but Sir Beau and Commander Rynna will ride scout-"
"What?" objected Rynna. "I am not to patrol? Look, I understand why Beau will not ride scout, for he is a healer and-"
"Hoy, now!" interjected Beau. "For a year and a half I have ridden scout along the marge of the Blackwood and up in the Rimmen Spur. Right?"
Linnet vigorously nodded. "Yes, and a better scout you could not-"
"Hold!" barked Vail. Then more softly, "Hold." She turned to Beau. "Healers are rarer than scouts, and Alor Melor has asked for thine aid. Is it not so?"
Beau sighed and reluctantly nodded, and Linnet put an arm about him and leaned her head against his shoulder.
"But what about me?" asked Rynna. "I am no healer."
Vail looked at the damman. "Nay, thou art not. Yet heed, thou art the commander of the Waerlinga, and as such thy place is with the other captains of this band and not out riding scout."
Rynna's jaw jutted out, and she glanced at Tip, fire glinting in her eye.
But Vail took in a deep breath and let it out and looked from Rynna to Beau. "I understand how ye both feel, for I, too, would rather be riding scout as in the days of yore"-she smiled at Tipperton, her partner of past-"yet as chief scout my place is with the vanguard, as is thy place, commander, just as it is with Beau."
Rynna glanced at Beau and looked at Tip and then turned to Vail and reluctantly agreed as well. But even as she did so a Dylvana runner came. "Commander Rynna, Chief Scout Vail, ye are requested to attend the council of captains in four candlemarks."
Vail nodded and said, "Even now it begins." She glanced at Rynna and, at the damman's nod, said to the runner, "We will be there."
Vail and the Warrows watched the runner go, and then Vail said to the six who would scout, "This will be the way of it: some days ye will ride patrol, other days ye will not. But most nights ye will camp with the column."
"Camp with the column?" asked Tipperton. "But does that give us time to get to and from station?"
Vail nodded. "Aye, for ye will ride on near-point and flank and rear, no more than league or two out from the column will ye range-"
"Two leagues? But what about the wide rangers and those on far-point?"
"Here alongside Darda Stor, a league or two is enough. 'Tis only after we reach the Plains of Pellar will any need range wide and far, and those tasks will be assigned to Dylvana, for they ride swift steeds, not ponies."
Vail looked at Tip, but he raised no more questions, and so she continued: "And speaking of swift steeds, each of ye will be paired with a Dylvana, for should there be a need to flee, the pony can be abandoned, and both scouts take flight on the horse. Thy added weight will not overslow them so."
"But in the woods a quick pony is just as fast as a horse," protested Nix. "I'd rather keep my steed, if you don't mind, than to cling to a Dylvana and flop along ragtag behind."
"Indeed," replied Vail. "Ponies are mayhap e'en swifter in the close woods than a horse. Yet in the open, a horse will outrun both pony and Helsteed."
"Helsteed?" asked Alver, looking at Dinly.
"Alver, if it's Helsteeds we're fleeing," said Dinly, "ragtag or not, I'll be most happy to flop along behind a Dylvana on a running Elven horse."
Smiling at Dinly's comment, Vail began assigning the posts they would ride…
These duties they would take up on the morrow, but for the nonce two dammen and two buccen rode at the fore of the vanguard, and four buccen rode within.
"How long will it take us to get there?" asked Beau.
Tipperton frowned. "If I remember correctly, Caer Pen-dwyr lies some nine hundred miles away as the raven flies, but by the route Vail indicated, we'll travel nigh a thousand altogether."
Beau groaned. "Why is it that we always seem to be crossing leagues and leagues of nothing but leagues and leagues merely to get where we're going. I mean, I felt like Tip and I had travelled half the world just to deliver a coin, and then another half the world from Dendor to Gron and from there to Blackwood. And here we go again, traipsing off to Caer Pendwyr, travelling half the world once more."
"Hoy now," said Nix, "that's three halves."
"Yar," agreed Dinly, chortling, "just how many halves does the world have?"
"A hundred and three," said Beau, glumly, "and we'll no doubt see them all."
In the lead, Coron Ruar glanced back at the Waerlinga and smiled and wondered why they were laughing.
As they rode a bit farther, Beau looked about and then said, "Well, Tip, at least we're among a lot of not-men."
Alver frowned. "Not-men?"
"Indeed," said Beau. "Elves and Warrows are not-men… and perhaps some of the Baeron."
"The Baeron aren't men?" asked Dinly, peering around at some of the huge riders on their huge horses.
Beau nodded. "Did you ever look at their eyes? Dark yellow, they are, like those of Wolves and Bears."
"But your eyes are amber, too," said Dinly, "just as are Linnet's and Rynna's and mine. And we're certainly not Wolves or Bears."
"Perhaps we're too small," snorted Alver. "More like ferrets or some such, eh. Beau?"
"You're one to talk, green-eyed Alver," shot back Beau, "I'd say you're more like to be a lizard."
Again the Warrows burst into laughter.
And once more Ruar looked back at them and marvelled at how they could be so merry while riding to deadly war.
East-southeast they fared for four days, the Warrows, all but Rynna and Beau, now riding scout. Tip was teamed with Dara Lyra, a scout he had ridden with once before: on the way to lift the siege from Mineholt North, together they had ambushed a Rucken sentry as a vital part of a plan to deliver Braeton from a segment of Spawn. And now they were allied again to ride the land on the right flank of the column and a bit to the fore.
On the morning of the fifth day of setting out, the column turned southerly on a trace of a road and entered the Greatwood proper. It was an old trade route they followed, now grown over with disuse, yet it was mostly low scrub and small saplings which sought to impede the way, and so the wagons had little trouble following the brushy path, especially those which came last, as through the woodland they fared.
The forest was dressed in scarlet and gold, the leaves turning hue in the crisp fall air, though dashes of green lingered here and there. And down below the crimson and auric leaves, wherever shade fell so fell a chill, hinting of winter to come. Voles and limb-runners and other such small animals scurried thither and yon, collecting the last of provender to tide them over until the renewal of spring. Only a few birds were seen, and only now and again would one be heard to call, and that in the distance and brief, for most had already flown away to warmer climes abroad. The air itself seemed preternaturally still, all summer insects gone, but for a lone bee or two, searching out the last of what little nectar remained.
And down the overgrown two-track fared the column, hooves plodding, wagon wheels creaking and rumbling over uneven soil, all pressing down the rank weeds and brush and saplings into the humus beneath.
"One nice thing about this time of the year, Melor," said Beau, watching a limb-runner hie for its den, its cheeks stuffed with acorns or some such, "no midges, no gnats, no biting flies."
"Mayhap the very best time of all the seasons," said Melor, "with its pleasant days and cool nights."
"I'll agree to the days, Melor, but the nights are downright chill. In fact, the air is quite changeable."
As if to verify Beau's words, a sudden brisk breeze stirred across the forest above, the leaves whisking and rattling in response.
Beau drew his cloak about and looked up through the branches at the blue sky above. "What are the chances of a cloudburst, eh?"
"I would that it not rain, Beau, else the wagons are like to mire. Remember the trek across Riamon?"