Alaria smiled, brushing a stray lock of dark brown hair back from her eyes. 'Every step of the way, wee one. Every step of the way, for ye did follow along the outer ramparts of the Hidden Stand.'
'Why does it seem to hold twilight?' asked Beau, looking once again up into the dusk-laden leaves high above.
Alaria shook her head. 'None knows, Sir Beau. There seems a mystic bond between Elvenkind and Eld Trees, Lian and Dylvana both, for when none are nigh the leaves lose the gloaming, yet regain it when Elves dwell near. It has been said that not only do Eld Trees sense the presence of Elvenkind, but that some Elves-not all, but some- can sense the eldwood trees.'
Loric nodded. 'When Riipt felled the nine, 'tis said Dara Arin dreamt of the slaughter.'
Tip frowned. 'Felled the nine? -Say, now, is this the same as the 'Felling of the Nine'? The song the Bards sing?'
'Aye.'
Beau turned up his hands in puzzlement. 'What is this, um, 'Felling of the Nine'? It's a song I've not heard.'
' 'Tis more than a song, my friend,' said Loric, and his face fell grim. 'Long past, in the time you call the First Era, Spaunen came down from the Grimwall and into Darda Galion and in malicious glee felled nine of the precious Eld Trees. I was among the March-ward along that sector of the marge, and when we discovered what had been done, we ran the tree-slayers to earth and in our rage slew them all. I bore word to Coron Aldor, and we mounted a force of retribution and took up the dead Rupt and displayed their remains to Foul Folk throughout the Grimwall and gave warning that we would not tolerate such ravage-ment ever. Oft we fought, yet always we conquered, and never again did Spaunen set axe or saw or blade of any kind against the precious trees.'
'This Dara Ann, is she the Lady Arin of legend?'
'Aye,' replied Alaria. 'Dara in Sylva means Lady in the common tongue. She was a Dylvana, and together with Egil One-Eye and Lady Aiko and others, she quested for the Green Stone of Xian.'
'From my da I've heard the songs the Bards sing, songs of her as well as songs of the Felling of the Nine,' said Tipperton. Then he turned to Loric. 'But you say you were there, at the actual felling?'
Loric nodded.
'But that was back in the First Era, more than two thousand years ago.'
'Nevertheless, wee one, I was there.'
Tip's eyes widened, and he took a deep breath and slowly let it out, for although it had been bandied about that Elves upon reaching a certain mark aged no more, still to have it actually confirmed, well, what a marvel it was.
'And this Lady Arin,' asked Beau, 'she sensed the death of the Eld Trees?'
'So it is said,' replied Loric.
'Oh, but I wish I could sense herbs and roots and flowers and mint and bark and various leaves and whatever else I need in my healing arts, for it would ease the finding a deal-but sense them alive, I mean, rather than when they die.' Beau paused a moment, gazing up at the great giant, then said, 'It must be grand to have a mystic link to such a great tree, for that would be special to my way of thinking.'
Alaria nodded solemnly. 'Special, aye, and this particular tree above many others, for 'tis said that when this tree is no more, then we, too, will no longer dwell in Arden Vale.'
'Oh, my,' said Beau, a stricken look on his face.
Just after dawn the next morning, Loric, mounted upon a fiery steed and trailing two behind, each with a Waerling astride, bade good-bye to Alaria and then set forth at a goodly pace, heading up through the wintry vale. Both Tip and Beau gripped the saddle forecantles tightly, for neither was equipped to manage such a great steed as a full-grown horse, Tip measuring but three feet four inches and Beau but three feet five. Northward they rode through the pine-laden glen, following alongside the waters of the River Tumble rushing southward, occasionally beneath thick ice. High stone canyon walls laden with winter snow rose in the distance to left and right, the sides of the gorge at times near, at other times two or three miles distant. Crags and crevices could be seen here and there, jutting up through the layered white, though for the most part the lofty walls were sheer granite and little snow clung to the steeps. In places where the canyon narrowed dramatically, Loric pointed out hewn rock pathways carved partway up the sides of the stone palisades that formed walls of the vale, the Elf remarking that in these straits when the river o'erflowed its banks in the spring, the valley below became a raging torrent, and so these courses along the walls were made for safety's sake. But they rode none of these snow-covered high pathways as on up the canyon they forged, at times passing through narrow slots and at other times crossing o'er wide valley floors, faring through snow and on stone and gentle loam alike, now and then clattering on a frozen stretch of the river itself, hooves knelling on the ice, but always returning to the verdant galleries of the evergreen forest carpeting the vale and reaching from side to side.
And northward they rode and northward, Loric leading the Waerlinga through fragrant pine, now riding swiftly where the snow lay shallow, now slowly where it drifted deep. And whenever they came to places where Loric judged the snow lay overdeep, he would dismount and bid the Waerlinga to do likewise, and then he would lead the horses afoot, at times broaching the snow for the steeds, at other times having the steeds broach the snow for him, frequently trading off which horse took the lead and bore the brunt of the work. And always the buccen trailed behind, floundering through the drifts.
'Round a flickering fire they made camp that eve in a 'grove where the snow lay shallow, and as they waited for water to boil for their tea, Beau turned to Loric and said, 'Yestereve you told us that two thousand years past you were standing march-ward along the Grimwall. And when we first saw you, you were standing march-ward along the marge of Drearwood. So tell me, Loric, is this all you do?
Stand march-ward on borders, I mean. It seems that in two thousand years you'd get tired of such duty.'
Loric laughed and looked at the wee buccan. 'Ah, my friend, thou hast come upon a truth of Elvenkind, for indeed we would become weary of such constant duty throughout thousands of seasons, no matter the task. Whether Lian or Dylvana, none remain long at one calling-be it one summer or five hundred; eventually we change what we do, taking up other duties, other callings, other crafts.'
'Five hundred summers? Five hundred years?'
Loric nodded but added, 'We take note of the seasons more than we count the years.'
Beau looked at Tipperton and in a hushed voice said, 'Cor.'
Tipperton slowly let out a breath. 'But what about your kings and such-do they also take up other tasks?'
'Aye,' replied Loric. 'Though what you name king we call Coron. Alor Vanidar was Coron when the first Eld Tree seedlings were brought from Adonar and planted in the river-laden land which became Darda Galion. Yet his interest was drawn elsewhere and he gave Coronship of the realm over to another-Elmaron, I believe.'
'Vanidor was Coron?'
Loric shook his head. 'Nay, not Alor Vanidor but Alor Vanidar instead.'
'Vanidor, Vanidar: they sound rather like one another if you ask me,' said Tip, Beau nodding his agreement.
'Not to the Elven ear,' replied Loric. 'Vanidar means Silverleaf in Common, and Vanidor, Silverbranch.'
'Oh,' said Tip.
Loric leaned forward, ticking words off on fingers. 'Dor, dar, da: branch, leaf, tree.' He gestured about at the forest. 'Darda literally translates as leaf-tree, though it is the word in Sylva meaning forest.'
Beau's eyebrows shot up. 'Oh, I see. Like Darda Galion, it means Galion Forest, eh?'
'Darda Galion, Darda Erynian, Darda Vrka, exactly so. There is but one forest we name not Darda, and that is the Skog far to the east… an ancient wood, said to be the eldest in all of Mithgar.'
'Skog, eh?'
Loric nodded, and silence fell upon the trio.
'So,' said Tipperton after a while, 'you haven't been at march-ward all of the days 'tween the Felling of the Nine and the capture of the twain, eh?'
Beau looked at Tip. 'Capture of the twain? -Oh, you mean when they captured us.'
Tip grinned and nodded.
Loric grinned too. 'No, wee one, I was not at march-ward all those seasons. After the retribution, I turned my
