sings and the lute-playing Waldan sings harmony and the Elven lord sings counterpoint.'

Needless to say the common room was packed to overflowing when the news spread that 'A Waldan and a Dwarf and two Lian were singing in the Red Goose, and another Waldan danced to their tunes.'

And for two days, two Waldans, two Elves, and a Dwerg sang and chanted simple songs, tragic songs, glad songs, and songs of derring-do, of ships on the sea and Dragons in the air, of lost loves and loves found, of storms and rainbows and treasures vast, of hewing stone and harvesting grain, and of Silverlarks and Draega-the great Silver Wolves of Adonar, large as ponies and deadly foe of the Vulgs-and other such creatures of legend. And more, much more, did they sing and chant and march and dance, and all the peoples of Bridgeton, it seems, came to the Red Goose Inn.

Over those same two days as well, the comrades tended and cared for their animals, feeding them good grain and sweet water and giving them rest. The five also replenished their diminished supplies, Beau especially making certain that there was enough tea to last all the way to Dendor. 'It's going to be cold, bucco,' he said to Tip, 'and hot drink will come in handy, right enough, morning and evening both. -Nighttime, too.'

'Assuming we can build fires,' replied Tip.

'Oh, Tip, do you think the whole of the way will be rife with Rucks and such?'

Tip threw an arm over his friend's shoulders. 'Surely not, yet regardless, we'll take all the tea with us.'

And so, for two days the companions relaxed and sang and danced and drank and ate… and made ready to resume their quest, a journey ahead of them still, for on a thong about a small neck there rested a plain pewter coin, a coin that one of them had promised to deliver and fulfill the wish of a long-dead man.

On the third morning after the Allies had gone from Bridgeton, Tip, Beau, Phais, Loric, and Bekki rode forth as well, faring eastward across the stone bridge above the Ironwater River, frozen in winter's cold. They followed the Landover Road, and intended to stay on this route until they reached the gap where Riamon ended and Garia began; then they would turn almost due north and after some days cross the Crystal River to come at last into Aven. Even then, it was some leagues more they would have to travel through that land to reach King Agron's court. Altogether it would be a journey of some five hundred twenty-five miles from the walls of Bridgeton in Riamon to the walls of Dendor in Aven.

Beau moaned when he heard of the distance they yet had to go, but gestured behind and said to Tipperton, 'Well, bucco, at least we got our hot bath and mulled wine, and, oh, but wasn't the singing fun?'

'Don't forget the hot meals and soft beds, Beau, for I imagine we'll not see the likes again for many a day… perhaps not until we reach Dendor itself.'

'How many days till then, do you think?'

'Twenty-five or thirty, if nothing goes wrong.'

Beau groaned. 'Oh no, a full month.'

'Belike,' growled Bekki riding alongside. 'But there are towns along the way, and if they are yet standing-'

'Oh, Bekki,' interjected Beau, thrusting out a gloved hand, 'don't talk about towns along the way. I mean, no sooner said than something awful is likely to happen to them.'

Riding in the fore, Loric turned and asked, 'Dost thou think that merely speaking of them can bring ill fortune?'

'You never know,' replied Beau. 'Everything's all connected somehow, and I wouldn't want to tempt fate.'

Bekki snorted, but said nought.

Sighing, Tip looked at Beau and said, 'Sometimes, Beau, I wish I hadn't told you about events and stones and ripples in ponds.'

Out front, Phais laughed, but Beau's jaw shot forward and he said, 'Well it is, you know… all connected, I mean.'

And Phais called back, 'Good and bad alike, Beau, good and bad alike.'

Beau frowned and looked at Tip and turned up his hands, and Tip said, 'I believe what she means is that you are thinking only of the bad things bringing bad. But good things bring good as well.'

Beau's eyes narrowed. 'Hoy, now, if good brings good, and bad brings bad, does that mean good can sometimes bring bad?-Huah! Of course it does. Just as bad can bring good.'

'Take care, my friend,' called Phais, 'for thou art now on a slippery slant, where thou mayst conclude that a good end justifies even the most foul of means.'

'Oh no, I wouldn't do that,' protested Beau.

Bekki glanced over at him. 'Honor wouldn't permit.'

'Indeed,' replied Beau. 'Indeed.'

And down the Landover they fared.

Eastward they rode, ever eastward, an arc of the Rimmen Mountains in the distance to their left, the miles passing cold beneath the shod hooves. They rode by day and stayed in crofters' haylofts and open-air camps by night, the wayside inns along the way burnt to the ground or yet standing but abandoned, and these they stayed in as well and left a few coins upon counters when they rode away the next day.

In the late afternoon on the sixth day out they passed a wide swath in the snow where a well-churned track swung away from the road and beat east-southeasterly. Tip rode down and looked long at the trail and then remounted his pony. He gestured at the ground and called out, 'These are the marks of shod hooves and the ruts of wagon wheels. It's where the Allies left the road.'

'Pursuing the Rupt,' said Loric.

Bekki shaded his eyes, peering southeastward. 'There,' he pointed. 'There lies the Skarpal Range.'

Standing low on the horizon, snowy crests just visible across the rolling land, loomed the jagged peaks of a mountain range.

'That's where the Squam are heading,' added Bekki.

'May Loden drive them all the way to their haunts,' said Phais.

'May all the Grg be dead before any arrive,' growled Bekki in response.

Tip spurred his pony up the slight slope and back onto the road, then he, too, turned and looked at the range afar. 'They won't follow any surviving maggot-folk into the mountains, will they?'

Phais shook her head. 'Not likely. To battle on one's home grounds is one thing; to battle on the foe's is quite another. Nay, I would think they pursue and fell the foe at opportunity-ambushes, swift strikes, and such. But when they reach yon slopes, I think the Allies will disengage, for the ground is not well suited to battle.'

'Is any ground ever such?' asked Beau.

Phais looked at the buccan and made a negating gesture. 'Nay, Beau, neither plains nor mountains nor fields nor fens: no ground is ever meant to be blooded, yet there are times when nought else will serve. And if one must do battle, then one must choose wisely, for on occasion the ground determines all.'

Tip sighed. 'I suppose if any foe reach the mountains, it's better just to let them go, eh?'

Loric shrugged. 'Some may follow.'

Bekki grunted, then said, 'As to fighting among the peaks and crags, none are better than the Chakka. If any pursue the Grg, it will be my sire and kindred.'

'Well,' said Tip, 'pursue or not, kindred or not, as concerns our mission, 'tis moot. I say we push on, for the sun is low, and this is not a place to stay.'

As twilight deepened they came to a stand of oaks sheltering a wayside inn, the hostel seemingly abandoned, for no lights shone through the darkened windows, and all was silent and still. Yet when they tried to enter, they found the door to be barred within. Bekki drew the hand axe from his belt, and Loric and Phais drew blades.

'Maybe they left by the back way,' said Beau, puzzled.

'Hush,' hissed Bekki. 'If the door is barred, mayhap there are Grg inside.'

'Oh my,' murmured Beau, backing away and plucking his sling from his belt, lading it with a lead shot.

Down from the porch they crept, where Tip took his bow from its saddle scabbard and nocked an arrow. Bekki slid his axe back into his belt and took up his war hammer.

'Ye three wait here,' said Loric to Phais, 'while Bekki and I go 'round back.'

Phais nodded, and then as Loric and Bekki slipped through the shadows, she and Tip and Beau drew the animals after and took shelter behind broad trunks of oak. 'Should any come running out,' said Phais, 'loose thy missiles at will. Yet should they draw nigh, take refuge behind me. And if there are too many, then leap astride thy

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