foe.'
'We should do nought to jeopardize the mission,' said Phais, 'or delay it.'
'Indeed,' replied Bekki, setting the pot back on the fire, snowflakes sissing in the flames. 'Even so, as I have said before, it galls me to leave living foe behind; there is no honor in that.'
'Nor at need is there any disgrace,' said Phais.
Bekki looked at her and raised an eyebrow. 'Mayhap not, yet the sooner we deliver the coin, the sooner we can engage.'
'Wisely, I hope, and not rashly,' said Tip.
'Ha!' barked Bekki. 'This from the one who said 'Rescue me from behind' and leapt up in the face of the Grg.'
Tip turned to Loric and appealed, 'Did you think that was rash?'
Loric sighed. 'Let us merely say 'twas precipitous.'
Tip turned to Bekki to smile in triumph, only to find the Dwarf grinning.
'Wull,' said Beau, 'let's just hope that we don't find any more Foul Folk lurking between here and Dendor. I mean, Tip promised me a gentle trip across Aven, and a gentle trip I would have.'
'The village is ablaze,' said Phais. 'We'll have to swing 'round.'
'But what if they need help?' asked Beau, peering at the smudge in the sky.
'Just as we did in Valon,' said Tip, 'we'll have to pass burning towns by.'
Beau looked at Bekki. 'I'm beginning to agree with you, Bekki: the sooner we get rid of that blasted coin, the sooner we can help. In that, we are much alike.'
Bekki glanced at the healer's satchel behind Beau's saddle and shook his head. 'Alike? I think not. For you would engage to save lives, my friend, whereas I mean to quench them instead.'
Wide of the conflagration they rode, slipping past the foe. And the next day they did likewise, for another hamlet was in flames, this one filled with Foul Folk running amok.
Beau sighed. 'Oh, Tip, it is as you feared: Rucks and such are indeed in Aven, slaying, looting, destroying all.'
Tipperton shook his head grimly. 'I wonder, Beau, given the foe are here, just what does it portend for Dendor beyond?'
Instead of ten days from the Crystal River to Dendor it took two weeks for the five to cross the two hundred miles between, for Spaunen patrols swept the land. Often the companions had to wait for night to avoid being spied on the plains. And on one of these days they were seen by a lone Ruck running westerly, going where for what reason none knew. And Loric ahorse rode him down from behind and slew him ere any alarm could be raised.
Yet north and north they went through weather foul and fair, avoiding discovery, swinging wide of their intended route, lying low for candlemarks on end, but coming ever back to the course.
And no longer did they build campfires, much to Beau's dismay. 'Tea,' he said. 'I need my tea, and the Foul Folk are keeping me from it. If for no other reason, Bekki, you can kill them for depriving me of such.'
Closer they came and closer still until at last they rode up through the hills which would bring them to the ridge above Dendor, and Tip's heart lay uneasy within his breast. And the closer they came the more he dreaded looking down upon the plain.
And Loric glanced at Phais, her lips drawn grim. 'Dost thou hear, chier?'
She nodded.
'What?' asked Beau. 'What do you hear?'
'Drums,' replied Phais, 'bugles, shouting, and the clash of arms.'
'Drums?' asked Tip. 'Like those that pounded before the gates of Mineholt North?'
'Aye,' replied Loric. 'Spaunen drums.'
'Lor',' said Tip. 'I can't hear them, nor the shouts nor clash of arms, but my heart is pounding so.'
'As is mine,' said Phais.
'And mine,' said Beau.
Bekki only nodded.
'I fear what it betokens,' said Loric.
'Look!' cried Tip, and he pointed to a trail of dark smoke blowing high across the sky.
'Oh my,' said Beau.
'Vash!' gritted Loric, and he spurred forward, the other four following after.
On they rode up through the hills, and now all could hear the drums and bugles and shouts and the clash of arms… and still smoke plumed in air filled with the odor of char…
… and still the dread grew…
… and Tip looked at Beau to see another buccan blanched nearly white, a face reflecting his own.
At last they topped the final hill to look down on the plain below, and there stood the walled city of Dendor, some of it ablaze, though most not, and bucket brigades battled the flames. Yet the fires were not what drew the eye, for the city itself was beringed by battle, armies washing to and fro-Rupt and men in chaotic struggle, red slaughter on the land.
To Tip's eye, all seemed a howling madness, as riders on horses charged the enemy, running regiments alongside on foot, only to be met by Ghuls on Helsteeds, with Hloks and Rucks in escort. Lance, barbed spear, saber, tulwar, bilaxe, glaive, hammer, club, mace, scimitar, falchion, flail, whip, mattock,…: they clove, bludgeoned, pierced, slashed, crushed, gutted, punctured, hammered, ripped, and broke men and Rupt alike. And arrows flew in swarms of hissing doom, black shafts to be answered by white fletch-ings, deadly in their flight. Horses fell flailing, men screamed, hewn down, and Rucks and Hloks shrieked in death.
And behind the Ruptish foe, giant trebuchets and towers and great rams stood ready, should there be a need. Yet these were not advanced to the fore, there where fury reigned.
'Oh Adon,' moaned Tip, his heart hammering in dread, 'but I hoped to never witness such again.'
'Do you see it?' asked Loric.
Beau, his face pale and drawn, looked at the grim-lipped Alor. 'Do I see what?'
But Loric's gaze was fixed on the field, and he did not reply.
'Aye,' groaned Phais, 'there it is,' and she pointed a trembling hand.
Tipperton's sight followed the line of her outstretched arm to see On the west side of the city, men quailed back from the foe, most to turn and run toward the gates of Dendor behind.
And alone midst the advancing Spawn strode a monster, grey in the midday light, and it walked upright on two legs, like an Ogru but no Ogru this…
… and then Tip knew why his heart hammered so, for it could be nought but a Gargon, a fear caster, and before it the men broke and ran, though some simply fell to their knees in terror, unable even to flee.
Even this far away Tip could tell it was massive, for the creature stood half again as tall as a man, and Tip thought he could detect the glint of scales on its flesh, though at this distance he could not be sure. And it ponderously stalked forward in a circle of emptiness, for not even the Foul Folk could stand to be near, so great was its terrible power.
And it seemed invincible, spreading terror as it went.
Yet of a sudden the fleeing men slowed and turned, and gripped their weapons, those they had not cast aside. And the men who had fallen to their knees scrambled up and ran back to join the ranks.
'See, chier, atop the walls,' cried Phais.
'Aye,' replied Loric.
'What is it?' demanded Tip, discerning nought but a milling throng along the banquette, though he did see men wheeling a ballista toward the point of attack, the giant bow laded with a spear. 'Is it a trick? Do they lure the Gargon within range?'
'Nay, wee one,' replied Loric, ''tis a Mage on the wall instead. -Or mayhap more than one.'
'What do they do?' cried Beau, scanning the ramparts, unable to single out anyone who might be a Mage.
'Quench the power of the Draedan,' said Phais.
'But my heart yet pounds,' said Tipperton.
'As does mine,' said Bekki. 'As does mine.'
'For their protection to reach up here would drain them beyond their means,' said Loric. 'They but shield the
