Both Bekki and Borl divested themselves of their helms, and they laid aside their chain-link armor, though it was made of black-iron and not likely to glimmer. Tipperton, though, had no armor, no helm, and so he simply stood and watched, wondering what was afoot. Bekki and Borl inspected one another for aught that would glitter and inspected Tipperton as well, and then they turned to a blank wall and Bekki clamped down the hood of the lantern, shutting its light away. In the darkness Borl slowly and quietly slid inward and aside small stone panels.
Daylight streamed inward and Borl beckoned Tipperton to look.
But the Warrow was too short, and so Bekki fetched one of the chairs and Tipperton stood thereon…
… and looked out over the vale before the mineholt door…
… where stood the Horde…
… Rucks and Hloks and Ghuls on Helsteeds.,.
… and monstrous great Ogrus mid all.
"Oh, my," said Tipperton, his voice hushed as his gaze swept over the vast array, "but they look so much more formidable standing this close than when viewed from the heights above. -There are so very many of them."
Borl grunted. "It will not be easy, Sir Tipperton."
"Tip," said Tip.
Borl turned. "Eh?"
"Just plain Tip will do, DelfLord, that or Tipperton."
Borl grunted and turned back to the viewing port.
"Here they come," he muttered.
Tip looked out.
Over the crest of the near-distant hill came riding the Daelsmen, their numbers paltry when compared to those of the Horde.
At first the Horde drew into a defensive position, but when it became clear that there were but seven hundred of the Daelsmen, hoots'and jeers drifted up from the Foul Folk, and Rucks japed about.
The Daelsmen arrayed themselves, and segments of the Horde made ready to do battle, yet Ghuls rode among them, the corpse-foe hissing orders and the segments stood fast.
Time passed and time more, and Bekki and Borl sketched out the dispositions of both men and Spawn.
Now Tip heard the blare of a Ruptish horn, blatting much like the one Vail had sounded above Braeton at the Rimmen Gape.
And at last over the hill rode a thousand Dylvana. Down they came and down, down to stand alongside the men of Dael. And among them Tip saw a wee figure astride a pony.
"Oh, Beau," he breathed. "What have I done to you?"
Once again the Horde shifted about, and the japing and jeering diminished, yet when there seemed to be but a thousand of the Elves, the taunting began again.
The day waned as four more candlemarks passed, and once again the Ruptish horn blatted, and finally over the hill came riding big men on big horses as five hundred Baeron came, and with them rolled thirty great wagons.
These huge warriors came down the hill on their huge horses and arrayed themselves alongside the Elves and men.
The jeering stopped and again the Horde shifted about, and this time the Ghuls rode together in the center. And from a tent they drew out a shambling man, his head angled askew, and he stumbled along as if witless and would have fallen but for the strong support of the Ghul at his side.
Borl sucked in breath between his teeth.
"What is it?" hissed Tip. "Who is this man?"
"Modru's eyes," gritted Bekki.
"Modru's voice," growled Borl.
Frowning, Tip looked once again at the man, just as one of the corpse-foe stepped forward, and the buccan could see the Ghul's lips move. What he might have said Tipper-ton could not tell, for not only were they entirely too far away to hear, they probably spoke in a Foul Folk tongue, none of which would Tip know.
The man straightened, his head snapping up, and Ghuls shifted back as if afraid, while the man with his fists on his hips arrogantly turned about. Now the man looked at the force standing on the hillside before the Horde. And then he turned to the Ghflls gathered about and seemed to speak, and they listened attentively. And of a sudden the man sagged and would have collapsed but for the Ghul at hand catching him under the arms. And shambling, his head askew, the man was led back into the tent.
"Was that, is that Modru?" asked Tip.
"Nay, Tipperton," replied Bekki. "It was his surrogate."
"Surrogate?"
"Aye," replied Borl. "A witless man that somehow Modru possesses even though Modru himself sits like a spider in his iron tower in Gron, or so we believe."
Tipperton shuddered.
Bugles sounded below, and Tip looked out to see the Horde redeploying, Rucks, Hloks, and Ghflls on Helsteeds moving about to face the foe.
Quickly Borl sketched this new array, and then turned to the others.
"The plan seems to be working," he grunted.
"For now perhaps," said Tip, "but not for long."
Borl frowned at the buccan.
"You said it yourself, Lord Borclass="underline" the moment the battle begins is the moment all goes wrong."
Grudgingly Borl nodded, then turned again to the portals as twilight drew over the vale. On the hillside the Daelsmen and Dylvana and Baeron broke ranks along with two Lian and a Warrow, and soon campfires were burning in the moonless dark of night.
And in the high mountain chamber, Bekki and Borl slid the stone panels back into place, and when they were firmly set, Bekki raised the hood of a fireless lantern. In the phosphorescent glow the Dwarves donned their mail and helmets, and with Tipperton down the steps they went.
Time eked by, Tipperton waiting, along with nine hundred Dwarves. And sometime after mid of night, he along with the others took up their weapons and roped clay pots and stone-grey blankets and stood before the side postern, and throughout the entire Dwarvenholt all lights were extinguished.
Tip's heart hammered within his chest and his knuckles were white on his bow. And through his thoughts ran a single thread:
Come the dawn, bucco, your reckless plan will fail. Come the dawn. The dawn.
Chapter 38
In the last candlemarks before dawn, Beau was awakened from a fitful doze by Loric's gentle hand. "The time draws nigh," said the Elf.
Beau scrambled to his feet just as Phais came leading the buccan's pony. "Hast thou thy bullets and sling?"
"Yes, but I shouldn't need them back at a hospital wain."
"Thou dost never know, wee one," said Phais.
"Aye," added Loric. "Remember the plan: should the Rupt attack up this slope, then thou must flee before them as will we do."
Beau glanced down at the vast Horde of Foul Folk, nought but shadows stirring 'round nearly extinguished campfires, nought but hot coals in the predawn marks. "Oh, I know the plan, all right. Still, do you think they'll attack?"
"Nay, I do not," replied Loric, "yet one never knows."
"We have tried to account for all," said Phais. "Nonetheless, events oft run in directions unforeseen."
"Don't worry," said Beau, taking up his medical satchel, "I'll be prepared for all." And he lashed the kit firmly behind the pony's saddle. He looked up at Phais. "I'll get some extra sling bullets from one of the armory wains."
Loric glanced eastward, where faint light glimmered in the sky. He turned to Phais. "The herald of dawn creeps toward this vale, chier."
Phais nodded, then knelt before Beau and embraced him. "We shall see thee after."
"Oh, Phais, do take care," whispered Beau, and he looked up at Loric. "And you, Loric, you as well."
"Aye," replied Loric, and then he glanced at Beau's pony. "And thou, my friend, be ready to run."
"Don't you worry, Loric. I'll fly like the wind."
Phais then stood, and she and Loric strode away from the buccan and toward where their horses were staked.