"I say we take their toll as they run," said Chieftain Gara. "Hit them hard when they least expect it and then withdraw."
"Harass them, you mean," said Bwen, her words a statement and not a question.
Bekki growled. "I like not this striking from ambush. It has the ring of dishonor."
"How is it different from what we did here?" asked Tip. "I mean, behind their backs we slipped out through the postern in the middle of the night, shrouded in blankets like stone, while their attention was drawn toward those before them in the vale. And then as dawn crept toward us and their regard was full upon the riders and challenges and feints, well then, we struck from the rear. And if that's not an ambush, or the like, well then, I don't know what is."
Bwen burst out in laughter. "Ah, Bekki, he's got you there."
Daelsmen and Baeron joined Bwen in her laughter, while Dylvana and Lian smiled. Even DelfLord Borl cocked an eye at his son and grinned.
"But we were grimly outnumbered," protested Bekki.
"As we are still," said Ruar. Now he looked 'round the table and asked, "How many are fit to ride, and have we enough horses?"
"I tally some thirty-eight and four hundred Daelsmen," said Loden. "As for horses, five hundred twelve."
Gara glanced at Bwen, then said, "Ten and three hundred Baeron, with horses to spare."
And Bwen added, "There will be another five and sixty of us driving wains."
Ruar nodded, then added, "Twenty-five and six hundred Dylvana, and we, too, have the mounts."
"I will pledge two hundred Chakka," rumbled DelfLord Borl, "on ponies, of course. The rest of the Chakka must stay and care for the Mineholt… the wounded as well."
Ruar looked to the right, where sat Tipperton and Beau and Loric. "Ye three and thy wounded companion have done well in our campaign, but ye yet have a sworn mission to fulfill. Even so, ye may choose to ride with us, and we would be glad of it. Still, we know not where the Swarm will lead us, toward Dendor in Aven or away. What say ye?"
Both Beau and Loric turned to Tipperton, and Beau said, "Well go on, bucco. Which way will it be?"
Tip took a deep breath and blew it out and peered down toward the floor. Finally he looked at Bekki and then to Ruar and said, "These past days I've come to realize that no amount of killing of Foul Folk will ease the ache in my heart. I slew all I could in Rimmen Gape, twenty or more, I believe. Another dozen or thereabouts fell to my arrows here-"
"Including two Trolls and a back-stabbing Ukh," said Bekki.
Borl's eyes widened. "You are the one who loosed the red-streaking arrows?"
Tip nodded.
"Elwydd," breathed Borl. "That alone saved the lives of many, mine among them, for I was before one of the Trolls the moment your arrow came and he burst into flames."
Tip threw up a negating hand. "DelfLord Borl, I didn't do it alone. The Dwarves who drenched the Ogrus with the liquid of fire deserve most of the credi-"
"Heed!" called out Borl. "I, Borl, son of Berk and DelfLord of Mineholt North, do here and now name you Chak-Sol. Let all within hearing carry the word forth unto those who should know. So I have said, so shall it be."
"Chak-Sol?" asked Tipperton. "What is-?"
"Dwarf-Friend," said Loric. "Thou hast been named Dwarf-Friend, as was I long past in the Red Hills Drimmenholt."
"But what does it mean?"
Borl smiled. "All secrets, councils, and counsels of my Chakkaholt and of my kindred are yours for the asking."
"Oh, my," said Beau, looking at Tipperton wide-eyed. "Does this mean you'll grow taller and broader in the shoulders and carry an axe?"
Tipperton burst out laughing, his giggles to be joined by guffaws of the entire council.
Finally, Tip held up a hand. "I thank you, my DelfLord, even though I do not think I deserve such an honor. I'll try not to let you down."
Bekki leaned over to Tipperton and growled, "Not likely, Sir Tipperton, not likely."
And Borl's sire, Berk, took up his axe in a gnarled hand and flashed it on high and cried out, "All hal Sir Tipperton, Troll-slayer and Chak-Sol!"
And thrice came the collective shout: Hal! Hal! Hal!
Tipperton's face flushed red. "Really, I don't-"
"Nonsense," snapped Berk. "You do."
Tip held up his hands and said, "I yield," which brought a satisfied murmur of approval from all 'round.
Finally, Ruar cleared his throat and called for quiet. Then he turned to Tipperton. "We await thy decision, Sir Tipperton, named Troll-slayer and Chak-Soclass="underline" wilt thou and thy companions ride with us to harass the Swarm, or will ye three bear instead toward Aven?"
Tipperton looked about the circle, then said, "Coron Ruar, though these past weeks I did set it aside, we are sworn to go to Aven. Too, there is one other who is sworn to our mission as well, and that is Dara Phais, sorely wounded. I cannot-we cannot-leave her behind, no matter which course we would choose. Yet my mind is clear now: we will wait for her to heal, and then ride on together: to King Agron in Aven we go; to Dendor if he is there; or to wherever he may be if not."
Bekki's brow furrowed at these words, but Ruar nodded and said, "Ye will be greatly missed, my friends, yet a sworn duty calls ye to go one way whereas we go another. We can do nought but wish ye success. Yet stay, for we have much to decide here today, and thine advice would be most welcome."
Ruar now turned to the remainder of the war council. "I count us thirty-eight and six hundred and a thousand strong, those of us who can ride. We are yet outnumbered 'tween four to one and five. Even so, the Swarm is on the run, and that gives us advantage…"
The council lasted the rest of the day, but in midmorn Beau left, whispering that he had Phais and other wounded to tend. Tip and Loric remained in the council, though neither had much to say.
In midafternoon Beau returned and whispered to Loric and Tip, "No change."
Beau had no more than taken his seat when Bekki turned to Borl and said, "Sire, I must accompany Sir Tipperton into Aven."
At the raised brows of his father, Bekki went on: "Apprenticed as I was to DelfLord Valk in Kachar, I have traveled throughout Rimmen and Aven and know well both of those realms."
Borl held up a hand. "What of our debt to the Dylvana and Baeron and Daelsmen? And who will command here as I ride with them?"
"Sire, that we owe our allies, I cannot dispute. Yet we owe Sir Tipperton as much if not more, for not only did he save your life, but he saved mine as well. And had he not slain the Trolls, the battle would likely have gone the other way. It was his plan we followed which broke the siege.
And this last: he is Chak-Sol of Mineholt North and needs aid. I am among our best warriors, hence I ask leave to go. As to who will command in Mineholt North, my grandsire, your sire, is yet hale."
Berk turned to Borl and said, "He is right, my son, a great debt is owed. As for me, I was DelfLord before, and though it is a burden, and though I would rather ride to battle, if you so choose I will take on the task of holtwarder until you return."
Borl clapped his hand on the shoulder of his father and said, "None better, sire." Then he turned to Bekki. "Aye. You are right, my son, and I give you my leave if he'll have you." He looked at Tipperton. "Will you accept another into your service, Chak-Sol?"
Beau leaned over and whispered to Tip, "Seek the aid of those not men." When Tip turned to his friend with wide eyes, Beau grinned and added, "It's all connected, you know… even to insignificant Warrows such as we."
Tip shook his head and turned to Borl. "Gladly, my DelfLord. Gladly will I have Bekki at my side."