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.'
Bekki grinned fiercely as Borl declared, 'So he has said, so shall it be.'
Over that day and the next, in spite of all the healers could do, more of the severely wounded died, and more funerals were held.
But on the third morn, the Dylvana, Daelsmen, Baeron, and Dwarves rode out on the track of the Swarm, all upon horses but the Dwarves, and they upon sturdy ponies.
Following after went Bwen and her wagons, and though the pursuit of the Swarm would far outstrip her wains, still she and her drivers would be on their trail at need.
Behind in the Chakkaholt remained the wounded, under the protection of the Dwarves until they were fit to ride. As to when that might be, 'twould be sooner for some than others was all Beau and the Dwarven healers would commit to.
And just ere they left, Vail and Melor came to see Tip and Beau, to wish them good fortune and farewell, for Vail was riding with the scouts and Melor as a healer in the vanguard.
Too, came Prince Loden and Prince Brandt, and Chieftain Gara and Wagonleader Bwen, and DelfLord Borl, and lastly Coron Ruar. And they all bid Tip and Beau and Bekki and Loric good-bye, and asked that their regards be conveyed to Dara Phais as well.
And then they were gone, warriors riding and wains rolling down the road toward the city of Dael. And when they had passed from sight, Tipperton, Beau, Bekki, and Loric, along with others, stepped back through the side postern and into the Dwarvenholt, shutting the gate behind.
The following day, as Beau stepped out the door of the chamber he and Tip shared and strode down the hall to make his rounds, behind him Tip called out, 'I say, Beau, wait for me. I'll take my lute and go with you to see Lady Phais.'
Beau paused until Tip caught up and then strode onward, saying, 'Uh, I dunno, Tip. These Chakia, they are mighty close.'
'You mean thick with one another?'
'Oh, they're that, all right. But I mean shut to outsiders. -Like the Bosky in troubled times, though instead of a Thornring they are hedged about with iron bars. Only in this case, the Chakia, they don't let males in.'
'Well, I think I'll try regardless. The most they can do is turn me away. Besides, you've other patients to treat- male patients, that is-and I might be able to cheer them.'
And so when Beau made his rounds Tipperton went alongside, and he played his lute in each of the infirmaries where Beau took him, and all the wounded were glad of it.
As they finally walked toward one of the portcullised halls, Tip said, 'I think I'll do this from now on, Beau. It seemed to give them heart.'
'My Aunt Rose always said that good spirits make the healing go faster.'
Tip sighed. 'Perhaps I ought not to play and sing for them, then.'
Beau looked at him in puzzlement. 'Why ever not?'
'Because, Beau, the faster they heal the sooner they go into battle again, and this time they might be killed.'
'Oh.'
They rounded a turn and before them stood a portcullis. Beau pulled on a cord at the grille. Somewhere a bell rang.
As they waited, Beau said, 'Well, I think you ought to play for them regardless. I mean, perhaps someone who heals faster will prove to be the someone who saves the world from Modru and his ilk. It's all con-'
'-nected,' finished Tip. 'Yes, Beau, I know.'
On the far side of the portcullis, a figure concealed in layers of gossamer veils moved down the hall toward them, silken fabric floating behind.
She stopped at the grillework.
'We have come to treat my patient,' said Beau.
'You may pass, Sir Beau, but your friend-'
'I've come to help with the healing, too,' said Tip, and he held up his lute. 'In my own way, of course. This kind of healing is needed as well.'
Now Beau said, 'Tip's right, you know. It will help.'
Silk shifted leftward as the Chakian canted her head to the side. 'Tip? Sir Tipperton? Troll-slayer? Chak- Sol?'
Tipperton swept a wide bow, as wide as a three-foot four-inch Warrow could make. 'At your service, my Lady.'
Without further word the Chakian stepped back down the hall to a niche-held lever which she threw and a wall-mounted crank which she turned, and silently the portcullis rose in its track.
Beau ducked under when it was high enough, Tipperton following.
Quietly the grille was lowered again and the lever lock thrown once more.
They followed the Chakian through corridors to a large chamber filled with cots, where wounded Dara and female Baeron lay. Here and there veiled Chakia moved among them, administering to their needs. Now Beau came to where Phais lay abed, drifting in and out of consciousness, virulent poison running in her veins. Thin and pale and barely awake, she wanly smiled at him, and her eyes slightly widened at the sight of Tip, though his own heart fell to see the look of her.
'While Beau has come to poke and prod,' said Tip, outwardly grinning in spite of his inward dismay, 'I've come to play and sing.'
'Poke and prod?' huffed Beau, rummaging through his bag. 'Poke and prod, indeed.'
'Never mind him, Lady Phais,' said Tipperton, taking up his lute. 'What song would you have?'
Phais paused, her eyes closed, and Tip thought she had fainted, but then she whispered, her voice weak,
