"Even so," said Valk, "I would hear the whole, for he is not yet done." He gestured for Tip to continue.
Tip nodded and said, "I'll cross the land between and-"
"And what?" cried Beau. "Knock on the gate?"
Tipperton nodded. "Exactly so, Beau. Knock on the gate."
"But they'll quill you with crossbow bolts," declared Beau. "I mean, you said it yourself, you'll be taken for a Ruck."
"No, Beau, by that time I will have shed Modru's flag and will instead show the flag of Kachar." He gestured at the black flag with its crossed silver axes. "Surely they will know it, eh?" He turned to Valk.
Grudgingly the DelfLord nodded. "Even so, Waeran, you are not Chakka. They will not admit you, thinking it a trick of Modru."
"No," said Tip. "I am not 'Chakka,' but then I've got this." With these words Tip reached down the collar of his shirt and drew out the coin on a thong.
"Ha!" snorted Kaldi, next to Tip, the Dwarf leaning over the better to see. "Do you think they will accept an all but worthless toll?"
Tip looked at Kaldi and said, "If we are right, Captain Kaldi, Agron will certainly accept this coin."
Valk looked at Tipperton. "I do not understand."
Tip sighed. "DelfLord, let me tell you about a night in the Wilderland, when I was awakened in my mill by a battle to the death on my doorstone…"
Finally the coin came back 'round the table to Tip. As he slipped the thong over his head, an elderly Dwarf across the table said, "It is a Gjeenian penny-an alloy of tin and chod-mayhap the most worthless coin in all of Mithgar."
"Gjeenian?" said Tip, looking across at the Dwarf.
"From Gjeen, an island in the Avagon Sea off the coast of the Karoo. How it bears on your mission, I cannot say."
Tip frowned and peered at the coin and mumbled, "Knowing where it comes from doesn't enlighten me one whit."
He looked at Loric, who turned up his hands and shrugged.
"All of this talk about where a coin comes from and its worth doesn't matter a hill of beans," said Beau. "What matters is this harebrained scheme of Tip's-I mean, him marching through a Swarm of maggot-folk who will kill him dead… and then sneaking across the land in between warring armies to the walls, where the men above will kill him dead… and then knocking politely as if you please on the doors of Dendor, where the guards on the gate will kill him dead."
Silence fell, and after a moment Tip asked, "Have you a better plan, Beau? If so, I'm sure we'd all like to hear it."
"Oh, Tip, of course I don't have a better plan. It's just that I'm worried sick that, Foul Folk or men, one or the other will kill you dead."
The circle of captains discussed the merits of Tipperton's "harebrained scheme," until finally Valk called for quiet. He glanced 'round the table, his gaze settling on Tipperton last. Valk smiled. "Once long past when faced with a perilous choice Breakdeath Durek said, 'The gamble is great, the stakes are high, yet he who dares, wins.' Sir Tipperton, I accept this mad plan of yours."
Tipperton exhaled pent breath.
"And a Waeran must do this thing," Valk continued, "for none else might pass as a Ruck, albeit a small one, and none will be better at stealing across land between, and with a flag of Kachar to keep him from getting slain out of hand and the coin as a means of admittance, well then, who better than Sir Tipperton?"
"What about me?" asked Beau.
"Oh no, Beau," objected Tip. "It's my mad plan and I should bear the risk."
Beau looked at Bekki. "It is his right," said the Dwarf.
"Wull then, I'll just go with him," replied Beau.
Phais shook her head. "Nay, Sir Beau. Fortune favors one alone, but not two."
"But I went through Drearwood with Tip, and it was just as dangerous."
"Aye, perhaps just as dangerous, yet 'twas not the same. There in Dhruousdarda ye twain needed pass through nought but trees while avoiding scattered Rupt and lone dire creatures of that wood. But in this Tip must walk through the heart of a Swarm and cross from its fringe to the walls of Dendor and then seek admittance. One alone has a better chance than two together of getting through the Swarm, and two together represent more of a threat to the men on the gate than a single one alone."
Tears came to Beau's eyes, but he nodded bitterly.
"It is decided, then," said DelfLord Valk. He turned to Tipperton. "Hear me now: two things can occur with your mission: it may fail; it may succeed.
"Should it fail; then when we arrive we will array ourselves on the ridge south of the city for a day and attack the next, and that should give Agron enough time to see us and set his forces to attack when we do, though it will also give Modru enough time through his surrogate to see us as well and to act, all surprise being lost.
"Ah, but should your mission succeed… You have seen and know our plan and you must convey it to Agron. Tell him I come with three thousand Chakka no more than a week after you. Have him each night and dawn loose fire arrows from above the four gates, signifying that all is ready. Just ere the dawn the day of attack, we will loose one fire arrow in return and then in the darkness ride down to war and attack with the coming of the sun. Let Agron's men come forth at that time, and together we shall win." As Tipperton nodded, Valk raised his axe. "Chakka shok! Chakka cor!" his voice rang.
Chakka shok! Chakka cor! responded the captains all 'round.
The DelfLord then looked at Tip and said, "Sir Tipperton Thistledown, may the smiling face of Fortune be turned your way, and may Elwydd watch over you." Valk grasped the helve of his axe nigh the head and held it before him and slapped a hand to the blade and called out, "Shok Chakka amonu!" and so did all the captains as well.
Tip glanced up at Loric, and the Alor said, "The axes of the Dwarves are with you."
Eleven days later, in the early March evening as the sun sank low in the west, once again the comrades stood among the trees atop the ridge overlooking Dendor. Still the Swarm ringed 'round the city below.
"It looks thinnest near the south gate," said Loric, pointing straight ahead.
"Then that's where I'll go," said Tipperton, his heart hammering, for not only was he about to set out on a mission dire, somewhere below a fear-casting Gargon stalked among the Swarm.
Phais gestured at the remains of remote winter sun sliding below the horizon, all but its upper limb now gone, the thin arc of a crescent moon sinking down just above. "When the sun disappears and the moon sets, then thou must go, for dark night will be full upon the land."
Tip nodded and looked at Beau, and that buccan's face was drawn. "Cheer up, bucco," said Tip, as he folded the flag of Kachar and stuffed it under his jacket. "We'll see each other after."
"Oh, Tip, it seems you are always going off into danger, while I but do hang back."
The last of the sun disappeared, and the fingernail moon edged down.
"Huah!" barked Tip. "Who walked with me through Drearwood, eh? Was it you or some stranger instead? Some stranger who saved me from that strangling Hlok, hit him in the head with a rock? And who came rushing to my aid at Annory? A stranger still? And who-?"
"Look, bucco, I know we are both in it up to our necks, but this time it seems more, more-"
"Harebrained?"
Beau laughed in spite of himself. "Well, perhaps not harebrained, but dangerous nonetheless."
"I know, Beau, and that's why I'll be all the more careful."
As the moon itself slid into the land Bekki glanced through the twilight at Tip. "There may come a time when boldness will better serve."