With an arrow nocked, Tipperton leapt down from the platform to step to her side. 'What is it?'
'He's dead,' sobbed Imongar. 'Alvaron is dead.'
'Dead?'
'Slain by the Draedan's death throes. Oh Adon, he died in terror.'
Tipperton looked from Alvaron toward the Gargon and then to Imongar, and grief welled up in his eyes. He glanced at the arrow-nocked bow in his hands and said, 'Lady Mage, I will ward you and him from harm until the battle is ended.'
Imongar shook her head, tears yet streaming. 'Nay, Tipperton, he would not want it that way. Instead we must carry the fight.'
And with that she stood and gathered herself, blood running down her leg, and as Letha knelt by her side and laid a palm over the wound, Imongar said, 'Veran, I would have a thousand warriors charge at the Foul Folk nigh.'
Veran ran a shaky hand across his brow. 'Aye, Imongar.'
Now Letha took her hand away from Imongar's leg, the wound no longer bleeding. 'Take care, Imongar, and move not in too much haste, else the wound will reopen.'
Imongar nodded distractedly as she stared toward the city. Then she turned toward Delander and Ridich. 'Can you two turn that fire in the moat against the towers?'
Delander nodded and said, 'Aye, but we must get closer.'
'You'll need an escort, then. Letha, hearten the Dwarves.'
Letha stood and shook her head and pointed at the Dwarves, most of whom had gained their feet and weaponry and now fought savagely. 'Nay, Imongar, they need it not. 'Tis the king and his men who would be braced.'
Tip's eyes widened. The king! I had forgotten. And he turned about, trying to find Agron, but gasped when he saw massive warriors, armored in glittering plate and bearing two-handed swords, running out from the darkness toward the battle raging 'round.
'Baeron!' shouted Tipperton. But wait, Baeron in bright plate armor? And whence came they?
Tipperton was not the only one who saw the oncoming throng, for the Foul Folk at hand saw them, too. And with wails of dismay, they turned to flee, some to be cut down by the Dwarves and King Agron and some of his men, most of the Spawn to escape howling.
And as the plated warriors reached the battlefield -they simply and utterly vanished.
'Good cast, Veran,' said Imongar, peering 'round. 'And now, let's destroy those towers.'
'Inside or out?' asked Ridich.
'Wha-?' Tipperton frowned.
'Inside, I think,' replied Imongar. 'From the walls above.' She turned to Tip. 'Run, fetch the king. We need an escort to get Delander and Ridich back through the gate.'
But as Tip turned to go, King Agron and a handful of warriors came striding to the Mages. A look of regret flashed over Agron's face when he saw Alvaron lying dead. But it quickly passed in this moment of exigency.
'My Lord Agron,' said Imongar, 'we need escort for these two back inside. They will use the fire of the moat to burn the towers.'
'Aye,' replied Agron, and he turned to one of the men. 'Kapten Harn, find a Dvargkapten and tell him that I go to the city to gather the men to carry out as much of the original plan as I can. Have him spread the word among the rest of the Dvargfolk, those here as well the rest of Valk's divided legion nigh the other three gates: the cavalry and foot soldiers and I will issue into the field within two candlemarks.
'And, Harn, when that is done fetch some of those Dvargfolk and cut the head from the Gargon. I will meet you at the south gate with a horse and a pike. You will spit the Fearcaster's head on the lance and bear it into battle at my side.'
As Captain Harn turned toward the Dwarves, Agron motioned to Delander and Ridich. 'Come and set your fires,' he said, and with an escort of armed and armored men, the king and the two Mages set off at a trot for the south gate.
Watching them go, Imongar said to Letha, 'The Dwarf herald will need a pony. Can you fetch one?'
Letha nodded and closed her eyes, muttering, 'Manni, convenife hic!'
Now Imongar turned to Tip and the others. 'Come, let us also find the captain of these Dwarves and see what we can do to salvage their part of the plan.'
'What about the wounded?' asked Tipperton. 'Shouldn't some stay and ward them?'
Imongar looked at Veran. He sighed and nodded. 'I will ring them about with a phantom force, though I will not stay.'
Tip frowned in concern.
' 'Tis the best we can do,' said Imongar, as a pony came galloping in, and then another, and twenty more, followed by another hundred or so, all to gather about Letha.
'I asked for one,' said Imongar, smiling, ponies stirring and pressing all 'round.
'I summoned them all, two thousand, I believe, if all Dwarves nigh and far were unhorsed. -Unponied, 1 mean,' replied Letha, grinning back as the ground thundered with more little steeds galloping in. 'We must needs get them back to Valk's army.'
'Not all,' said Imongar, 'for I'll need one. I've been stabbed in the leg, you know.'
'Oh, Imongar,' appealed Tip, 'it was the only way I could think of to bring you out from-'
'I know, wee one, I know,' said Imongar, frowning and rubbing her head. 'And I forgive you as well for pulling my hair out by the roots.'
The battle was hard-fought and long, dawn coming and then the morn, yet by the noontide, the Foul Folk were routed, their towers burned, their Helsteeds gone, half of the Swarm lying slain. And the king and his cavalry and foot soldiers were deadly, as were the savage Dwarves; and with massive warriors appearing out of nowhere to rush across the field at them, many of the Squam had panicked and fled.
And sometime in midmorn and on a pony circling far out on the plains and well away from the fight, Tip saw Beau, the other buccan mounted as well, for Letha had led the little steeds wide 'round the walls, remounting the forces of Kachar.
'Beau! Beau! Hiyo, Beau!' shouted Tipperton, kicking his pony into a dead run as he espied his friend galloping out from the field and leaving the battle behind.
And Beau veered his mount and came racing, shouting, 'Oh, Tip, we thought you- I thought you- Oh, Tip, it's so good to see you alive.'
And they rode together and haled up side to side facing one another and reached across and clasped hands and grinned great grins, simply glad to be reunited.
'Loric, Phais, Bekki-?'
'They're all right, Tip. Loric and Phais are in the thick of it, Bekki, too, though he's bashing aside all comers while looking for Modru's surrogate.'
'Oh, Beau, the surrogate: it's Lord Tain.'
'Tain?'
'Yes.' Tip shuddered. 'And he bears the corpse of his daughter, Lady Jolet, and yet whispers his mad dreams to her.'
'Oh my.'
'He's completely unhinged, Beau, unlike that other surrogate at Mineholt North, who seemed nought but witless.'
Beau frowned. 'Mayhap by being mad or without wit, mayhap that's what allows Modru to exert his hideous control.'
Tip sighed and canted his head and said, 'Perhaps you're right, Beau; who knows? Not I, and that's for certain. But that's neither here nor there, and I'm just glad we're together again. And, I say, just where were you going so Helbent?'
Beau held up his sling. 'I'm all out. There's a stream nearby, and I was riding to gather up more stones.'
Tip held up his bow. 'Me too. -All out of arrows, I mean, all but for the red-fletched one Rynna gave me, and I'll not use that. Instead, when I can find them I've been plucking shafts from dead Rupt and using them to kill others still. -Say, you wouldn't happen to have a spare sling, now, would you?'
