Phais turned to Tipperton and Beau. "Thy kith are avenged."
"The Hidden Ones, they should have killed them all, all the Spawn," said Tipperton, his face stormy.
"But fully five thousand lie dead, Tipperton."
"Nevertheless, these Hidden Ones, they should have pursued until all the maggot-folk were dead."
Phais looked at him as if to ask how many dead would it take to satisfy his thirst for revenge, but instead she held out a hand of negation and said, "The Hidden Ones will not go beyond the bounds of their dardas."
"On occasion one or two will," said Vail.
Phais nodded. "Aye, even a handful, but not the nation itself."
Ruar called to Cein, "Ride awhile with us, and this night we will relate all that has happened since we left, and thou canst bear word back unto Birchyll."
A look of disappointment fell over Cein's features, yet she said, "I was hoping to ride with thee into battle, my Coron. Yet, as thou wilt."
That night they camped at the far side of the gape, some twenty-five miles away. And Ruar and Eilor called the scouts together and once again laid out the maps. And they were attended by Gara and Bwen as well. Another Baeran was there, too, a tall, dark-haired man. So too was Cein in attendance, to carry word back to those behind in Darda Erynian.
When all had settled in place, Ruar said, "We are at a point of choosing the route we follow from here. I have called ye all together so that scouts and war leaders alike will know." Ruar turned to the dark-haired Baeran. "Uryc has traveled within the Ring of Riamon, and so has come to give us his advice."
Eilor handed an arrow to Uryc, and the big man touched the point of the shaft to the map to illustrate: "Mineholt North is some forty leagues northerly along the Rimmen Range. Yet the land 'tween here and there is one of rolling foothills, broken at times by washouts and chasms and gullies. It will be difficult going for the wagons. If that's the way chosen, the task for the outriders will be to find the easiest route through."
Tipperton and Vail, because of their small stature, had been given places up front, and Tipperton looked up from one of his own sketches to the big map and then raised his hand.
At Uryc's nod Tip said, "Isn't there an easier way to go? A road or some such? I mean, I thought the Dwarves were crafters and traders, and it would seem unlikely they would isolate themselves without having a road."
Uryc grunted, and then touched the map with the arrow. "Aye, they are crafters and traders, yet the road they made leads east from the mineholt to Dael, and there another runs southerly to the Landover, where they go east and west to do their trading. Or from Dael they ride the flow of the Ironwater down through Bridgeton and Rhondor and past Hel's Crucible and on to the Avagon Sea."
Tip glanced at the map and then thumbed through his own scout-book sheaves to a similar sketch. "Well, then, this road up to Dael and the one across, why not use them?"
Vail reached out and her finger traced a route over Tipperton's sketch. "To do so, Tipperton, we would ride east for thirty or thirty-five leagues thus, and then north another thirty or so, and finally back this way westerly thirty more. That's three sides of a square rather than one should we go straightly north instead."
Bwen cleared her throat and then said, "Even so, wee Tippy may be right and the road a deal better, for if there are ravines standing across our way, going the longer may be shorter overall."
Gara nodded. "Indeed there is that, but there is this too: likely the roads are watched, whereas by coming at them through the foothills we will come upon the foe unawares."
Bwen looked up at Uryc. "How rough is the knd?"
The big man peered down at the map. "A deal. Yet it was in the higher land I ran my traps. Down lower it seems bisiu-better-yet I didn't travel it all."
Bwen canted her head, then turned to Gara. "Well, Chieftain, it seems it's a hundred and some miles over rough ground or three hundred and some by road. If the land is too ugly, we'll be all the later for it, but if fair, then all the better."
The discussion lasted many candlemarks longer, but finally the decision turned on the fact that they bore a greater risk of being spotted if they followed the roads, for would not Modru set his own patrols along these ways? Whereas overland, though a harder pull, they were more likely to reach their goal without alerting the Spawn.
When Tip carried his blankets to the campfire where Beau was bedded down and told him of the decision, Beau grunted and then said, "Goin' overland, eh, and not on a packed road? Well then, Tip, tell me this: with these great big wagons, heavy as they are, what'll it be like if it rains?"
For two days the wagon train rolled cross-country, the great horses drawing the heavy wains after, Dylvana and Baeron escort riding alongside and a rear guard following. Directly out front fared the cavalcade, and farther ahead by a mile or so rode the column of the vanguard, Elves and men alike, but for a lone Warrow: Beau on his pony down among the great horses. And ranging farther out still, by two leagues or three or more, fared the scouts, some to the fore, some aflank, some bringing up the rear. Tipperton and Vail now rode point.
As late afternoon drew down on the day, Beau turned to the Dylvana riding alongside. "I say, Melor, just how far do you judge we've come? I mean, I've been trying to track our progress by sighting on the cap of that mountain over there, and it seems not to have changed at all."
"The mountain moves not, for we but plod," replied the Elf. "A better measure of progress might be the number of steps thy little steed takes."
"Perhaps better, Melor, but it would be a measure dull beyond measure."
Melor laughed, then said, "Six leagues at most, my friend."
"Six leagues?"
"I gauge that to be the measure of how far we've rolled overland-seven by the end of this day."
"Seven leagues, twenty-one miles altogether. Let me see, at this rate we should reach Mineholt North in, um…"
"Twelve days of overland travel," said Melor, "two of which we've done, or will have done when we camp this eve."
Beau smiled. "Oh, well, then, that's not so bad now, is it?"
"Nay, wee one, 'tis not," replied Melor, then added: "Of course, that assumes the land remains friendly."
Far out front, ten miles or so, Tip stood on the lip of the ravine. "We can't take wagons through this."
"Aye, we cannot," said Vail, shading her eyes and peering easterly along the rim, "at least not here." She stepped to her horse. "Ride west, Tipperton, while I ride east; we'll look for a place to cross. Shouldst thou find one, turn and ride to me. I will do the same."
Tip nodded and mounted and kicked his heels into the pony's flanks.
Westerly he rode, away from Vail and up the rising land. In the near distance, the Rimmen Mountains jutted up, barring the way. "If we don't come to a place soon," Tip muttered to his pony, "the land will be entirely too steep, too rugged for the wagons to roll this way."
On he pressed and up, a mile and then another, the deep cleft to his right becoming narrower. Yet another mile beyond he came to a bluff, a perpendicular upjut in the land cloven through by the ravine. Tipperton scanned for a way up and, seeing a notch, he turned the pony leftward and rode toward the gap. Yet when he came to it, the defile he found was rubble-filled. He leaned forward and patted the pony alongside the neck. "Well, old friend, I'm not certain a goat could get up that pile of rocks, much less a wagon train."
Turning back, he rode easterly, and finally espied Vail coming toward him.
As they came together he said, "There's nothing west but a steep bluff."
Vail turned and pointed east. "Yon, a third of a league, there is a way across. 'Twill be arduous, yet the train can pass."