"Yar, but it was September then and not October as now."
"Even so…"
Beau frowned and scanned the sky above, seeking clouds, finding none, as they plodded onward through the crisp woods on their southerly course to Pellar.
In the evening of the second day after entering the forest, they reached the edge of The Clearing, a place of significance to the Baeron, for here in normal times they came each mid-year, to sing of deeds done and to dance and to tell great tales and engage in contests, and to meet prospective mates, and to celebrate Summerday.
"I have been here before," said Tip, as he and Lyra moved across the yellowed grass of the great expanse the following morn.
"Oh?"
"Aye. Rynna and I rode to a Baeron village along the western brim. There we organized the watch on the eastern wold to guide travellers past the Spawn."
"Thou didst well, Tipperton."
"Oh, it was Aravan's idea to do so."
"Aravan?"
"Yes. By pure chance we came upon Galarun and Aravan and their company nigh Caer Lindor, and guided them past the Rupt on the wold. This was when Galarun and the others were on their way to get the silver sword."
A look of sorrow crossed Lyra's face. "I see."
They rode in silence awhile longer, then Lyra said, "This woodland village: whence?"
Tip frowned. "Some twenty-five, thirty miles ahead. We should pass it on the way; it lies on the flank we ride."
The following morning they espied smoke rising in the sky.
"Oh my," said Tipperton. "That's near where lies the village."
Lyra nodded. "We go in caution, then. And should there be a need to flee, abandon thy pony for my horse."
Tipperton took a deep breath and patted his steed alongside the neck. "All right, but only at need."
Cautiously they rode forward, keeping to the tree line at the western fringe of The Clearing. Unconsciously and without taking his searching gaze from the broad lea ahead and the forest to their right, Tipperton loosened his bow in its saddle scabbard and made certain that his arrows were at hand.
Finally, Lyra said, "See the rising tendrils? I ween these are morning campfires, Tipperton."
"Not a burning village?"
"Nay. More like a gathering."
Tipperton nodded, but did not relax his vigilance.
Following one of the pickets, Tip and Lyra rode in among an encampment of Baeron-nearly four hundred all told-mustering for the march unto Caer Pendwyr in answer to the High King's call.
The two were escorted to meet with the newly elected chieftain of this group. As they came unto the central fire, a huge man looked up from a map. "If the morning light does not deceive, 'tis Tipperton Thistledown I see."
"Urel," cried Tip, dismounting. "I did not know if you escaped the fall of Caer Lindor."
"I did," rumbled the man, rubbing his chest as if soothing an old wound, "but it was touch-and-go. Had it not been for Silverleaf, I would not have survived. Yet had it not been for me bearing him out the west gate with Rutcha on my heels, then neither would have he." Urel laughed hugely, then said, "Come, sit with me and introduce me to your friend and have some tea. And after you tell me what you are doing in The Clearing, we'll trade war stories. I'll tell you of my adventures in Silverleaf s company, and you can tell me whether or no you delivered that coin, and what happened along the way."
The train of Dylvana and Baeron and Warrows arrived that evening at the camp in the lea, and after an evening meal, Ruar called a council.
"You've come at a good time," said Urel, "for our rendezvous here in The Clearing is set to be done on the day of the last-quarter moon."
"On the morrow," said Coron Ruar, Vail at his side canting her head in agreement.
"Aye," agreed Urel. "And if you will delay travel by one day, we will fare to Caer Pendwyr with you."
Ruar nodded and glanced at Chieftain Durul, who nodded likewise. And then the coron turned to Rynna. Somewhat surprised by his unspoken question, nevertheless Rynna said, "Indeed."
Ruar turned back to Urel. "You have how many, fifty or so beyond three hundred?"
"Aye, nearly four hundred," said Urel. "But not all Greatwood Baeron are gathering here; some will meet us at the southern bound, down along the Glave Hills in Pellar."
"How many of you then will there be?" asked Coron Ruar.
"Including those who are yet to arrive and those we will meet in the south, mayhap a thousand, all told."
"Ah, then will our combined forces number some three thousand three hundred altogether," said Ruar.
"Three thousand three hundred and eight," said Beau, and Ruar broke out laughing, and was joined by Bwen's guffaws.
"Three thousand three hundred and eight, indeed," the coron replied.
When Urel and others looked at Beau and Ruar and Bwen in puzzlement, Bwen said, "After the planning is done, I'll tell you the tale of Bekki and Brandt… a story of two thousand two hundred… and five."
"Yar," said Beau grinning, "only this time it's eight War-rows I'm adding to the total, and not two Warrows, two Elves, and a Dwarf."
They waited a day at the campsite as by ones and twos other Baeron arrived, but on the morning of the next day as planned, even as the last-quarter moon set in the west and the sun rose in the east, once again the column set forth, the ranks swelled by the four hundred Baeron from The Clearing.
South-southwest they fared all that day and the next, an occasional Baeron drifting in from the forest to join the column on the trek across the broad lea. And nigh the close of the second day, under lowering skies, they came to the trees of the Greatwood again, where they set camp that eve.
A drizzling rain fell through the night, to become blowing mist on the following morn, the vaporous air swirling chill, the moisture nought but damp cold sinking unto the bones. Beau clutched his cloak tightly 'round as he rode, and from the far rear he could hear Bwen cursing as another wagon became mired.
Beau looked up at Melor and said, "Hmph. The very best time of all the seasons, eh?"
Melor did not reply.
All that day and three more they went, the wains miring often on the narrow trace, yet it was the only lane through the crowded weald to the open land atop the long arc of the Great Escarpment ahead. At last on the evening of the fourth day they came to the fringe of the woods, the forest ending, the terrain before them open. Some twenty miles straight ahead the, wold ended abruptly at the rim of the Great Escarpment, where stone plummeted down the sheer face, the land at the base to run another five or so miles unto the banks of the River Argon. Yet they would not travel to the brink and down, but would turn southeasterly instead and follow a route parallel to the steep precipice. For as the sheer bluff angled out from Bellon Falls some fifty leagues north and west, the mighty bluff curved southeasterly and away, two hundred and fifty miles or so in a long bend, the last hundred miles of which the cliff and the land atop slowly fell down a long, long slope to eventually descend to the level of the banks of the Argon flowing in the land below. And it was down this gradual decline the column would fare, heading toward Pellar.
And so the next day they turned leftward, faring down the gradual cant of the land, the river some twenty-five miles to their right but nigh a hundred miles straight ahead.
"Look," said Tipperton, haling his pony to a halt and leaping to the ground.
Lyra, too, dismounted to examine the track the buccan had found.
"Horses," said Tip, examining the spoor. "Heading south."
"Ponies, too," said Lyra.
"Oh?" Tipperton moved to where she knelt.
As Tipperton squatted to look at the trace of smaller hooves, Lyra stood and peered westerly. "There are more," she said. Tipperton got to his feet and looked to where she pointed, his gaze falling upon a wide southerly track beaten through the yellowing grass.