down the trail, seeking her beloved son Nix. With dread in her eyes she looked up at Linnet, who broke out in tears, and so too did Melli weep, and Lark, wee Lark, yet in Melli's arms, began crying as well.
In the last week of April and accompanied by Fox Riders, Tipperton, Rynna, Lark, Melli, Beau, and Linnet set forth for Bircehyll, where Loric and Phais and Talar and a small contingent of Arden Vale Lian awaited them, for the Warrows would go onward to Twoforks, and Talar would see them safely there.
As to the Warrows of Springwater, those Wee Folk set out eastward on the very same day to return to their burnt hamlet nigh the headwaters of the Rissanin, vowing to rebuild their village come what may.
In early mid-June, the Warrows and their escort came to the western bound of Darda Erynian at the verge of the Landover Road. There they bade good-bye to Tynvyr and Picyn and Kell and Nia and Phero, the Pysks who had fared north with them. And accompanied by the Elves of Arden Vale, the Warrows rode on, crossing the River Argon at Landover Road Ford and onto the wold beyond.
To the eastern foot of Crestan Pass came Warrows and Lian, and to Beau's and Tipperton's delight, one of the Baeron toll keepers was Lady Bwen. And she heartily greeted the Warrows and fed all a whopping meal, and they talked long into the night of things shared, of hardships and joys and griefs.
They spent the next night at the peak of the pass, cold even though it was June. And the next day and the day after, down the western side they fared. But the following day, under the waterfall they rode and into Arden Vale, where they were greeted at the Lone Eld Tree by Dara Alaria, Captain of the South Ardenward.
It was Summerday when they reached the Elvenholt in Arden Vale, and joy greeted them, and sadness, too, for many would never again celebrate the turn of the seasons.
Long did the Warrows spend in the Hidden Stand, Tip and Beau renewing old acquaintances, Rynna, Linnet, Melli, and Lark making acquaintances new. And Lark was fawned over incessantly, the tot grinning at the notice and babbling away in a polyglot of Sylva and Fey and Common and a tongue none knew but which sounded as a rustle of leaves.
And Tip and Beau spoke to Rael and told her the meaning of the rede she had uttered so long ago.
Yet at last in early autumn they once again set out for Twoforks. And with them rode an armed and armored cavalcade of Lian, for although Tip and Beau had once travelled alone across the breadth of Dhruousdarda, this time they would ride with a formidable escort, through that dangerous and dreadful wood.
Not even Lark took pleasure in the travel through Drear-wood, for it was a tangled place of dark and dismal dread.
It was the dark of the moon when in late October they came unto Twoforks, where they found nought but ruin and old char, the entire village burned, weeds growing in the streets. No one came to greet them but the autumn wind.
'The Horde we saw that night long past, the Horde marching west through Drearwood,' said Beau, 'they did this. I wonder if any here had warning.'
Tip shook his head, not knowing.
Loric came riding back among the wrack, Phais coming after, the other Elves yet searching. 'We find no sign of survivors,' said the Alor, 'though there are scattered remains of those long dead.'
'We will see they are given burial,' added Phais.
Tip looked about, tears in his eyes. And then he said, 'The eld dammen. I wonder…'
But when they came to the mill, it was burned as well.
Only the great buhrstones yet remained, lying among ashes long dead.
Then Tipperton gazed northwesterly toward Beacontor and said, 'Here it all began.'
Beau shook his head. 'No, Tip, for Linnet and Rynna it began in Springwater; for Bekki it began in Dael; for Phais and Loric, in the fringes of Drearwood; for others it began elsewhere. But it really began in a glade on Adonar, in a debate between Gyphon and Adon.'
'Perhaps,' said Tip, 'it began before that, with the very creation itself, either that or with a sneeze in the Boskydells.'
Beau laughed and said, 'It is all connected, you know.'
Rynna took a deep breath and let it out. 'What will we do now?'
Tipperton shrugged, but Beau said, 'We will go to my place in the Boskydells, that's what.'
Tip looked from Beau to Rynna, Lark held in her arms, and he looked at Melli and Linnet, and seeing no objection from any he said, 'Lead away, Beau. There's nothing for us here.'
Over the next five days west they fared, to the Crossland Road and west. Past Beacontor they went, where the balefire had burned so very long ago. Along the southern flank of the Weiunwood they rode, Lark speaking to the trees now clothed in their autumn foliage, her voice a shssh'mg call. Past Bogland Bottoms and on into Stonehill they went, where the citizens of that town were amazed to see a cavalcade of Elvenfolk escorting, it seemed, six insignificant Warrows.
They stayed that night and the next one as well in the White Unicorn, a large inn in the center of town. And on each of those nights Elves sang, but so, too, did Tipperton and Rynna, he playing his Elven lute, she her pennywhistle, and their songs were greeted with cheer, for the inn was filled to overflowing with folk who had come to listen.
The following morning the cavalcade rode out through the west gate of Stonehill, leaving behind puzzled citizenry wondering just what these Warrows might have done to deserve such a magnificent escort.
Southwesterly they turned, faring down the Crossland Road and along the southern flank of the Battle Downs, so named for the battle fought here where the High King and his host were victorious even though sorely outnumbered by the Horde of Foul Folk they faced. And they rode at a leisurely pace through the October days, the road now clasped within the Edgewood among leaves turned red and gold and russet in the crisp fall air.
In the early morning of the fourth day after leaving Stonehill, they saw ahead a great dark mass rearing up into the sky. It was the remarkable Spindlethorn Barrier, a formidable wall surrounding the Bosky entire. Befanged it was and dense, atangle with great spiked thorns, long and sharp and iron hard, living stilettoes, and even birds found it difficult to manage among its nigh impenetrable, interwoven branches. High it was, rearing up thirty, forty, and in some places fifty feet above the river valleys from which it sprang. Wide it was, reaching across broad river vales, no less than a mile anywhere, and in places greater than ten. And long it was, stretching completely around the Boskydells, from the Northwood down the River Spindle, and from the Updunes down the River Wenden, until the two rivers joined one another; but after their joining, no farther south did the Thorn grow. It was said that only the soil of the Bosky in these two river valleys would nourish the barrier, yet the Warrows had managed to cultivate a long stretch of it, reaching from the headwaters of the Spindle in the Northwood across to the headwaters of the Wenden in the Updunes, completing the Thornring entire. As to why it did not grow across the rest of the land and push all else aside remained a mystery; though the granddams said, It's Adon's will, while the granthers said, It's the soil, and neither knew the which of it for certain. There were only five ways through the barrier, passages like tunnels through the thorns: Spindle Ford in the northeast, The Bridge in the east, Tine Ford in the southeast, and Wenden Ford in the west, and the little-used northern tunnel through the ring there where the Northwood stood. In times of troubles these ways were stoppered with massive thorn barricades, plugging the passages as would corks plug bottles. Only recently had word come that the war was ended, and the ways now stood open for any and all to pass through.
The cavalcade fared toward the eastern way.
But when they came to the barrier, the Elves stopped, Talarin saying, 'We have brought ye safely to the land of the Waerlinga, yet we would not cause a stir by riding within. Hence we bid ye farewell here at the eastern gate.'
And though the Warrows protested, Talarin would not be swayed, saying such a force of Elves entering would no doubt cause alarm, even if but temporarily. Even so, Talarin did promise that a time would come when by twos or threes Lian would visit.
And so, Phais and Loric embraced the Warrows and kissed them each good-bye, as did Aris and Elissan and Jaith. And when Phais came to Tip and Beau, tears running down their faces, tears in her eyes as well, she whispered, 'Good-bye, my wee friends. Ye shall be in my thoughts forever.' It was not until the Lian had ridden away that Tip realized just what she had said, '… in my thoughts forever,' and she was an Elf.
Drawing pack ponies behind, into the thorn tunnel they rode, sunlight filtering down through the scarlet leaves overhead, Lark calling out, 'Ssshh, ssshh.' Two miles they rode ere emerging from the wall, coming unto a wooden span set upon stone piers and bridging the River Spindle. They stopped and looked down at the water
