come. Without them Dendor would have fallen. And without especially Sir Tipperton Thistledown, all would now be dead.
Tip was summoned to the throne dais, and when he stood beside the king, calls of Speech! and Halla et tal! rang out.
Tipperton frowned and looked out at the crowd and raised his hands. When silence fell, he said, 'No single person alone is responsible for a victory or even for a defeat. If you would praise anyone, then I say, praise each and every single one who stands against Modru and his ilk. Together we will cast him down.'
His words were met by a resounding cheer.
And finally King Agron called for quiet. In the stillness which followed, he looked down at the buccan and then out at his captains and warriors, his lords and ladies, his healers… his subjects. 'Sir Tipperton's words are prophetic: together we can defeat Modru. To that end I plan to carry the fight unto the vile one himself, the killer of my son Dular. When the army is rested, wounds healed, strength recovered, supplies laid in, wagons assembled, then we will bear the fight to Modru, into his own realm, for I plan to march my armies into Gron and assail his foul minions there.'
But for a collective intake of breath, a stunned silence met these dire words.
Chapter 14
Invading Gron? some in the taverns muttered over their mugs of ale, while others whispered across back fences: Modru's realm? Modru, the Black Mage? Is the king mad? Still others looked wisely at one another and proclaimed, He has a plan which will end the war swiftly, does the king… after all, didn't he kill the Gargon? Yet some avowed in hushed tones to any and all who would listen, 'Tis Dular's ghost roaming the ramparts and demanding vengeance which drives the king to do such. Regardless as to what the rumors alleged, riders bearing the king's gold and blue colors spread out across the land and bore the message that King Agron called for all able-bodied men to take up their arms and armor and leave their steads by the October moon to muster in the river town of Alvstad in the west of Aven by mid-November; as far as the king's subjects were concerned, That settled that.
Even so, in advisory conference with the king, the Delf-Lord of Kachar counseled against such a rash move, Valk calling it self-slaughter, with Imongar, representing the Mages of Black Mountain, siding with him.
'What say you, Lian Guardians?' asked Agron.
Loric looked to Phais, and she said, 'I would suggest, my lord, that thou shouldst instead march thine armies to the aid of High King Blaine.'
'My lady, what I plan will aid Blaine even though I will not be at his side.'
'Aye,' agreed Phais, 'it will, though still I advise thee to find the High King instead.'
'Where is Blaine?' asked DelfLord Valk.
'West of the Grimwall when last we knew,' said Loric, 'retreating from the fall of Challerain Keep and fighting a running battle.'
Imongar frowned. 'If he was at Challerain Keep, then he may have difficulty in reaching Pellar, for did you not say that all routes across the Grimwalls were blocked?'
Loric nodded. 'Crestan Pass, Quadran Pass, Gunarring Gap: all are held by the Rupt.'
'Pardon, my lord,' said Agron, 'but Arden Vale lies beyond those cols. If all are blocked, how did you come from that side to this?'
'That, my lord, I am not at liberty to tell, for we are pledged to hold secret the way we came. Yet I will say this: the route is insufficient for your armies to use. We ourselves came afoot-did the Waerlinga and Dara Phais and I-leaving our horses behind, the way too narrow for them, though a pony could cross.'
At these words, DelfLord Valk raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly toward the Elves.
'Does any fight to open the ways?' asked Imongar.
'Aye,' said Phais. 'The Lian of Arden Vale and the Baeron of Darda Erynian battle to open Crestan Pass, and the Dwarves of the Red Hills seek to quash the Horde at Gunarring Gap, though a Draedan helps bar that slot. As to Quadran Pass, mayhap the siege of Drimmen-deeve is broken and the Dwarves of that holt and the Lian of Darda Galion have command of that way. Yet we do not know if any of these passes are open, for our knowledge is seasons old.'
Agron frowned but said, 'Well then, if they are yet closed, where do you hope to find Blaine?'
'Pellar is where I would seek him,' said Loric. 'If he is not now at Caer Pendwyr, then there he will come soon or late.'
Valk nodded. 'I plan on taking my warriors to Pellar to be at the High King's side. Even so, for the long campaign it promises to be, we will not set forth until after the harvest of this year's crops in our mountain vales, for an army cannot live long off the country alone.'
Agron turned to Imongar. 'And what will Magekind do?'
Imongar sighed. 'We, too, shall set out for Pellar, for the High King will need all the aid he can muster, Magekind most of all, for Modru has at his beck not only Foul Folk but and Gargons and Dragons and other fell beasts which only we can ward against.'
Phais's eyes widened. 'Ye can fend Dragons?'
A grim look came over Imongar's face. 'Mayhap in a great conjoinment of Mages, can we find a sorcerer to be the focus and wielder of the bonded, though the casting needed is like to slay all thus merged.'
Phais shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but Agron declared, 'Then I march into Gron alone.' His defiant gaze swept from DelfLord to Guardian to Mage.
Loric, too, looked 'round at the others and then said, 'Regretfully so, my lord; thou and thine army wilt go alone and without our aid, for we deem victory will come at the High King's side, wherever he may be, and not in the colds of Gron.'
Agron drew in a deep breath and then let it out. 'It may be as you say, Lord Loric, yet hear me. By marching into Gron I will give Modru pause and perhaps buy Blaine some time, time to forge the alliance needed to throw down the vile one. In the very least, I will cause Modru to hold back several Hordes merely to meet my threat, Hordes which will not be cast against Blaine.' Agron took up a thong from the table, a thong laced through a pewter coin. 'That you will find him, I do not doubt, and so I ask but this: take back to him this token and say to him when you meet, the coin he sent by my son Dular, whom Modru most foully slew, the coin borne to me by others, that coin will be well spent.'
Loric accepted the token and, glancing at Phais, said, 'My lord, though we disagree on this mission to Gron thou dost undertake, Dara Phais and I will seek out the High King wherever he may be and deliver the coin and thy message. This we do so pledge.'
And so it was: of DelfLord and Wizard and Lian Guardian, none could dissuade King Agron from his chosen course, Dwarf and Mage and Elves to go a separate way, leaving Agron and his men to march into Modru's realm.
And yet it was not only men who would be marching into Gron, but a wee Warrow was pledged to scout for the king on his perilous course, and wherever that wee Warrow scout would go, a wee healer would go as well.
'I say, Beau, we've been cooped up indoors for days on end; what say we go outside and you teach me some of those slingster tricks of yours, eh? I mean, any arrows I take into battle are like to be entirely spent ere the fighting is done, whereas rocks always seem to be at hand. And if I am to carry on the fight when my quiver is empty, then a sling seems the best choice, and I could use a trick or two.'
Beau looked at Tip. 'Ho, me teach you tricks? This from the one who saw me try to lob rocks at a tree and nearly brain my own self?'
Tip laughed, remembering. 'Ah, but Beau, that was back more than a year past, and you've improved a wee bit since then.'
Beau grinned. 'Well then, we'll have to get Phais to make you a sling, for she is the one who made mine.'
'Hoy, what's wrong with the one I cut from the Gar-gon's tent?'
