tell.'
'Yes, indeed,' said Beau, nodding. 'All things are connected.' He turned to Tip. 'Another thing, bucco: given what happened to us when we crossed Drearwood all alone, I now think I'd much rather go into peril surrounded by an army than not.'
Tip sighed and reluctantly agreed.
And so the buccen waited and watched as the Dylvana of Bircehyll prepared not only for a campaign to lift the siege of Mineholt North, but also prepared for a prolonged war.
On the morning of the third day in the Elvenholt, as the Warrows sat at breakfast Beau said, 'I wonder how they'll get supplies? -The army, I mean.'
'Hmm, by wagons or some such, I should think,' said Tip, sopping up egg yolk with a chunk of bread.
Beau looked about the common hall where Dylvana ate, and then down at the food on his plate. 'You know, Tip, back in Arden Vale, Aris told me that in summer they take the sheep up into the mountain vales, while the cattle stay down lower… and the chickens and pigs and such, well, their coops and wallows and pens are never moved, though for the sake of breathing, they are kept a ways north of the Elvenholt. And we saw the fields where they raised the grain and other crops… their orchards too. But sitting here in the middle of a forest, I'm wondering: just where in this place, or in Darda Galion, for that matter, where do they raise their foodstuff? -That is, the grain, vegetables, fruit. Where do they graze their herds? -Assuming of course that they have herds. For that matter, where do they grind their grain? Where are their mills? And do they have tanneries? And-?'
Tip held up a hand to staunch Beau's words. 'Whoa, bucco. Look. I don't know where they keep gardens and fields and herds and other such, but surely they must have them somewhere, right? I mean, else they'd starve.'
Again Beau looked at his plate. 'Righto, they must, else we'd be hungry too.' And he scooped up a spoonful of eggs and shoveled it into his mouth.
At a table next to the buccen, an Elven warrior stood. As he carried his trencher past the Waerlinga, he paused and said, 'In scattered glens throughout the darda.'
'Mmhnh?' asked Beau, his mouth full.
'That's where the herds are, the grain fields, the gardens. As for orchards… fruit trees are spread throughout.'
Tip looked up at the warrior. 'And the mills?'
The Elf smiled. 'Where else?'
'Along a stream here and there,' answered Tip, grinning back.
The Dylvana nodded, then moved onward.
Tip turned to Beau. 'Satisfied?'
The summit of the hill was kept free of dwellings and there it was that Dylvana went to meditate, or so the buccen had been told. And after breaking their fast, the two of them wandered up above the Coron Hall and in among the silver birch clusters sprinkled across the grassy crest. The morning was cool, and widely scattered clouds drifted through the sky above.
Beau flopped down in the grass and lay on his back looking upward. Tip sat nearby, leaning against a tree.
'I always liked watching the clouds above,' said Beau, 'and to find whatever forms I could in their shapes: fish, people, trees, birds, Dragons, and other such.'
Tip nodded but did not speak.
'My Aunt Rose used to say that in the daytime the clouds were one thing, but at night they were quite another, and when I was but a nipper she would at times lift me from my bed and take me out to see. And in autumn and winter, when the wind howled and the moonlit clouds scudded above, she would tell me that it was the Wind Wolves chasing cloud deer across the sky.
'Even now when I hear the wind at night, I think of my Aunt Rose and the desperate race above.'
Beau fell silent, and they sat long moments without speaking. But finally Beau said, 'Oh, that one looks like the head of a pony. I didn't see it at first; it's upside down.'
Tip looked up, but the birch tree leaves stood in the way.
Beau glanced at Tip, then pointed skyward. 'Over the- Hoy now, what's all this?' Beau sat up and looked about, his face twisted into a puzzled frown.
'What is it?' asked Tip, peering about as well yet seeing nothing untoward.
Beau shook his head in dismissal. 'I thought I heard something.' He flopped back down, and immediately sat up. 'There it is agai- No wait, it's gone.'
Then he turned and looked at the grass, and carefully put his ear to the ground. 'Oh, my, Tip, listen. It sounds like your mill.'
Frowning, Tipperton crawled to Beau's side and put his ear to the ground as well.
The earth groaned, but not as though great cogs and wheels turned within. Instead it was as if huge stones somehow had a voice, or as if the very ground mourned.
Tip looked at Beau in amazement. 'What in the world?'
Somewhere downslope foxes barked.
Tip looked 'round, seeing nothing unusual, then put his ear back to the ground.
Still the earth groaned.
Again foxes barked.
Both buccen sat up.
'I say, Tip. Does it seem to you that these woods are full of foxes? I mean, we heard them all about as we came northward, and-'
'Look,' said Tip, pointing. Downslope, Ruar ran from the Coron Hall and leapt astride a horse. He went racing down and away.
'I wonder what that's all about?' said Beau, looking at Tip in puzzlement.
'I don't know, Beau, but perhaps we'd ought to go down and see.'
Tip stood, but Beau said, 'Just a moment,' and placed his ear against the earth once more. 'It's still going on,' he said, then stood as well.
They waited in the Coron Hall for what seemed a long while, and then Loric, Phais, and Ruar stepped within.
'I say,' called Beau, but abruptly stopped, for Phais was weeping, and both Loric's and Ruar's aspects were grim.
Tip sucked air in between his teeth, and he stood and walked toward the three, Beau at his heels.
'What is it?' asked Tip as Beau took Phais by the hand. 'What's wrong?'
Ruar looked at him, then said, 'Caer Lindor has fallen.'
'Oh, my,' said Beau.
'Fallen?' asked Tip. 'How do you know this?'
Ruar looked at Loric, and at his nod the Coron turned to the buccen. 'Eio Wa Suk passed word to the Pyska.'
'Eio wa suk-?'
'Groaning Stones and Fox Riders,' said Loric. 'They are some of the Hidden Ones, the Fey.'
'Groaning?' Beau looked at Tip. 'The ground. That was what we heard. Groaning Stones. And the foxes barking-'
Tip flung out a hand to stop Beau's words. 'But Caer Lindor: what happened?'
'They were betrayed in the night, and-'
'The Rivermen!' spat Tip.
'Aye. They opened the gates and-'
'Wait!' cried Tip. 'What matters is, is…' Tip choked to a halt.
'Only a few survived,' said Ruar, 'a handful of Baeron and Lian, Silverleaf among them, though he suffered terrible wounds.'
'What about the Warrows. What about…' Again Tip could not finish his query, yet his heart plummeted when he saw the tears now running down Ruar's face.
The Dylvana shook his head. 'I'm so sorry, my friend, but all Wee Folk in Caer Lindor died fighting
