a good hot meal.'
' 'Fraid not, bucco. We're too close to the maggot-folk for fires, you see.'
Beau groaned, then said, 'Jerky and crue, I suppose.'
Tip nodded, then his eyes lit up. 'Oh, but they do have some early apples, it being nearly October and all.'
'A bit green?'
'Some. I wouldn't recommend eating very many.'
They came to an overhanging bluff, and in a simple rope pen holding the horses of the Daelsmen, Beau corralled his pony next to Tip's and one other.
As Tip unstrapped Beau's bedroll and medical bag from behind the saddle, he said, 'I'm glad to see you, Beau. How was the trip? Anything exciting along the way?'
Beau sighed and shook his head. 'The trip? Ploddingly slow. Excitement? Oh, we did see a bear, but that's it. Although it did seem a bit strange, the bear ambling along as it did on a course paralleling our own. The Baeron seemed to think it was special, though it was nought but a bear.' He lifted the saddle up and away, the pony shaking side to side to be free of it. Beau rummaged through his saddlebags and retrieved his curry comb. 'But how about you, bucco? Any excitement on your part?'
Tip fetched his own curry comb and started on the opposite side. 'Not much,' he replied, 'a minor tangle with some Spawn. And, oh, we did see the Horde in their siege on the mineholt. In fact, there's to be a war council this afternoon, after the wagons and all get settled in. Bekki says he'll find me when it's ready to begin. We three, we'll go together.'
'Bekki?'
'A Dwarf, Beau, and a fine one at that. That's his pony behind you.' Of a sudden Tip stopped currying and looked at one of the nearby horses. Then he resumed combing knots and tangles from the pony's hair, there where the saddle and trappings had ridden. 'You know, Beau, just like the Dwarves at Annory, Bekki won't ride a horse, either. What do you think it all means?'
Beau looked across at Tip and shrugged.
Ruar gazed 'round at the war council. 'We are gathered to decide on how best to deal with the Horde setting siege on Mineholt North.
'We are one thousand Dylvana, five hundred Baeron, seven hundred Daelsmen, two Lian, two Waerlinga, and one Drimm: altogether, two thousand two hundred and five.'
On the left of the circle, one of the Daelsmen laughed. It was Brandt.
Loden scowled at the youth. 'You have something to say, Lord Brandt?'
'I am sorry, my brother, but I found it amusing. -Oh, not that we were two thousand two hundred, but rather we were two thousand two hundred… and five.'
Loden started to speak, yet ere he could say aught, opposite across the circle Bekki growled, 'Jeer not at the five, bratling, for two are Guardians, and their swords worth five hundred each; two are Waerans, one of which I have seen in battle, and I would not trade him for a full regiment of Daelsmen; and lastly, bratling'-Bekki's hand dropped to his war hammer-'one is me.'
Brandt flushed red in the afternoon sun, in anger or embarrassment it could not be told, but then he held his empty hands forth in surrender and, grinning, said, 'I yield, Lord Bekki, I yield.'
Beau looked wide-eyed at Tip and whispered, 'What did Bekki mean, he's seen you in battle? And what's all this about being worth a full regime-?'
Beau's words were cut short by a rumble from Gara, the Chieftain among the Baeron and sitting across from Ruar. 'We are not here to bandy words at one another, but to plan the defeat of the Horde.'
'Just so,' replied Ruar. He turned to Bekki. 'I have numbered the forces without. Wouldst thou number the forces within?'
Bekki nodded. 'We Chakka in Mineholt North cannot match your number, yet we can field nine hundred or so.'
Ruar took in a breath and expelled it. 'Then together we number thirty-one hundred.'
'Thirty-one hundred and five,' breathed Beau.
At Gara's side, Bwen raised a hand and was acknowledged. 'Your count is short, Lord Ruar, for you omitted me and my drivers-one hundred more Baeron altogether.'
'I stand corrected,' said Ruar. 'Our total then is thirty-two hundred.'
Beau looked at Tip and mouthed, [and five].
'Yet the Horde numbers ten thousand,' said white-bearded Tain, shaking his head. 'Long odds indeed.'
Loden turned up a hand. 'Then we need a plan to shorten those odds.'
'By Fyrra's fuzzy teats,' swore Bwen, 'how can we plan a campaign without knowing the placement of the Horde? How are they set before the gates of the Dwarven-holt? And the terrain: what is it like? Not all of us here have seen these things, and the mere fact of telling us exactly what we face will suggest several courses of action. Then perhaps we can list our choices and pick from among them the very best plan.'
Ruar smiled at Bwen and said, 'Exactly so, Wagon-leader. That is the very next step.' Ruar then turned to Loric, the Lian sitting with the Dwarf and the Warrows. 'Guardian, I wouldst have thee render thy report to all.'
Loric released Phais' hand and took up a long pointer stick and stood and stepped to circle center, where a patch of loamy soil lay bare. 'This is the way of it:
'Mineholt North lies at the northwest root of a broad vale, just beyond the shoulder of yon mountain. The vale itself runs down to the southeast thus.' With the pointer, Loric began drawing a truncated wedge in the loam. 'Here at the head, where it fetches up against the mineholt, the vale is wide, a third of a league or so. The vale grows even broader as it runs down into low foothills and rolling plains south and east. The slopes to either side of the vale are quite steep nigh the mineholt, yet they dwindle rapidly and within a league are entirely gone, and there the vale has ended. A road courses from the mineholt along the easterly side of the vale.'
'It is the tradeway to Dael,' rumbled Bekki. 'Not used this past year.'
'The fault lies not at our end,' said Tain, 'but at yours instead.'
Bekki growled but did not reply.
Loric looked from one to the other, and when none said aught, he continued. 'Here where the vale ends, the road turns due east for that city.' His pointer scribed a line in the soil and then jogged sharply.
Bwen scowled at the broad markings in the loam. 'That's all well and good, but where is the Horde?'
'Here,' said Loric, and he drew a swatch across the dirt. 'Here before the very door of the mineholt.'
Beau raised a hand, but ere the buccan was recognized, Loric said, ' 'Tis a full Horde: ten thousand Rupt strong.'
Beau groaned and lowered his hand.
'And their makeup?' asked Durul, the Baeran sitting on the other side of Gara from Bwen.
'Thousands of Rucha, mayhap a thousand Loka, a hundred or so Ghulka on Helsteeds, and a handful of Trolls.'
'Ogrus? They have Ogrus?'
'Aye, Durul, they have Trolls.'
Durul shook his head. 'Ogrus, Trolls, by any name they are a terrible foe.'
'Do not discount the Rukha,' said Loden, 'for although one alone is craven, in great numbers they are formidable, and here there are many.'
'Pah!' exclaimed Bekki. 'The Ukhs are no threat.'
Fuar cocked an eyebrow. 'Do not belittle the Rucha, my friend. Else thou art like to find thyself among a multitude in battle and in dire straits.'
Bekki glared yet held his tongue.
Bwen frowned at the markings in the dirt. 'And where are their wagons? Surely they have supplies.'
'Indeed,' replied Loric. His pointer moved toward the center fore of the vale. 'Their wagons are off the road and gathered here.' He jabbed the stick to the earth, and then drew a circle in the center of the swath marking the location of the Horde. 'They are well warded by all the Foul Folk. Ghuls on Helsteeds are never far, and this is where linger the Trolls. Too, nigh each wagon stand water barrels, no doubt set there to deal with any small blazes a foe might set with fire arrows ere they become critical.'
'Bice!' spat Eilor, the leader of the outriders at Ruar's side along with several other Dylvana. 'Could we get to
