hands to deal with this scourge. So praise all those who worked tirelessly, for their battle to defeat Modru's pestilence was no less courageous, no less deadly, than that fought on the walls and in the field against Modru's Horde. Seek out the healers, the caregivers, and all else who risked their lives in the battle against the scourge, and tell them how you feel. But as for me, my friends, I thank you for your thoughts and for your well wishes, but I must go; there is work yet to be done.'
As Beau stepped back and toward Dalavar and the Silver Wolves, the crowd erupted in a prolonged cheer, and many called out blessings on the wee buccan, and those who would seek to touch him were held at bay by the sight of the Draega he walked among.
'Here,' said the Wolfmage, taking Beau's saddlebags from him and draping a pair across one Silver Wolf and the second pair across another, 'we will bear these burdens.'
Beau looked about. 'But how will we go, Dalavar? Are you going to cast a spell? Are we to fly?'
Dalavar laughed. 'Nay, wee one. Instead, you will ride.'
'Ride?'
'Aye.' The Wolfmage gestured at a nearby Draega. 'I have asked Shimmer, and she has said she will bear you.'
'Oh, Shimmer.' Again Beau embraced the Silver Wolf, and again she tolerated it.
Beau looked up at Dalavar. 'Will I need a saddle?'
Dalavar laughed. 'Nay. She will not let you fall.'
Dalavar boosted Beau onto the great 'Wolfs back, saying, 'Twine your fingers in her fur. She will not mind.'
Hitching his bindle 'round to his back and then lacing his fingers into the soft fur, Beau looked about, and said, 'But how will you come, Dalavar? Will you ride? And I say, where is that seventh 'Wolf? He seems to be missing again.'
'Fear not, Beau. He will be at the western gate.'
Dalavar spoke a strange word unto the Draega and then stepped away and into the crowd, and though Beau was watching, of a sudden he lost sight of the Mage; it was as if Dalavar had simply vanished.
Following the largest of the Silver Wolves, Shimmer moved smoothly into a trot, the other Draega forming a cordon 'round. Hastily, the crowd parted, giving back before the buccan and his extraordinary escort, though they cheered him on his way. And when the Silver Wolves passed beyond the throng, they broke into a lope, a steady, easy gait.
Westerly they fared through the streets of the city, now and then veering down a side street only to turn west again, and people afoot and those mounted or in horse-drawn vehicles moved aside to let them by, though they shouted out benedictions and acclaim as the Draega ran past.
To the western gate they came, the passage standing open below the parapet, and under wall and out across the stone bridge they loped, where another Silver Wolf awaited, this one somehow darker than the rest. And this 'Wolf matched his gait to that of the leader, and out onto the snow-covered plains the pack ran, while behind, soldiers atop the wall cheered them on.
Of Dalavar there was no sign.
Across the wide reaches of Aven they loped, miles vanishing behind their long strides, Shimmer and the other Silver Wolves running easily. And Beau watched the land flow by, seeing it with new eyes, for wonder of wonders he was riding a Draega.
Miles fled and miles more, and yet the Silver Wolves didn't seem to tire. Even so, as if by some silent signal, they stopped now and again, most of the time nigh thickets, where they allowed Beau to dismount and stretch his legs and relieve himself. The 'Wolves, too, went about the thicket, marking the trees, but whether they were claiming the territory or simply leaving the message that they had been here, Beau did not know. Yet soon they would signal the Warrow that it was time to be on their way again, Shimmer standing steadily as Beau vaulted astride.
As the sun reached the noontide, the 'Wolves veered from their course and stopped at a small stand of trees. And there the Draega bearing the saddlebags came to Beau and with a shiver, dropped the pouches at his feet.
'Ho, what is it?' And then Beau's eyes widened in revelation. 'Oh, I see. You've stopped for me to have a wee spot of lunch, eh?'
Three Silver Wolves took station about the stand and stood ward, while the remaining four plopped down in the snow and waited.
Beau fished a biscuit of crue from one of the saddlebags, and he sat in the snow with his back to a tree and slowly ate the waybread. 'Oh, I say, where are my manners?' Beau fished out another biscuit and extended it to Shimmer, but she turned her head away from the offering. 'I don't blame you, Shimmer. Rather tasteless, this. But here, I've some jerky.' Shimmer turned this down as well.
Beau finished his biscuit and drank some water and then relieved himself. Two of the Draega came and stood beside the saddlebags, and Beau settled the pouches across their backs. Shimmer once again came to the buccan and stood without moving as he sprang to her back. When he twined his fingers through her fur, she and the others set out westerly, the large one and the dark one yet taking the lead.
And across the rolling plains they tirelessly ran.
Nigh sunset, again the pack stopped, and once more Beau took a meal. But soon they were on their way again, and across the snow and through the dusk fared the Silver Wolves, Beau yet mounted on Shimmer. And under her long loping stride, Beau on her back with his stomach full, laid his head down and in moments fell sound asleep, though his fingers remained entwined.
The moon rose, gibbous but waning, and across glittering snow and through argent light sped the silver-white 'Wolves, nearly invisible in the winter night, a buccan asleep in their midst.
Beau wakened as Dalavar took him from Shimmer and bore him among trees to the side of a fallen log. 'Sleep, Beau, we will watch.' Muzzy and but half awake, Beau undid his bindle and spread his blanket and lay down, sleep overtaking him again. He wasn't aware when two Draega came and lay next to him, their soft fur to keep him warm.
'I say, how far have we come?'
Dalavar squinted to the east at the morning light. 'Thirty-three leagues, more or less.'
'Oh my, a hundred miles? Goodness. A hundred miles in a day.'
' Tis no more than a pack of ordinary Wolves could do.'
'You mean Wolves other than Draega can run a hundred miles a day?'
Dalavar nodded. 'Aye, Beau.' Then he gestured about. 'But this pack can run twice that at need.'
'Well then, why don't-?' Suddenly Beau's face fell. 'Oh, it's because of me, isn't it? I mean, having to deal with me slows you down. You ought to leave me, you know. In a town where I can get a pony.'
Dalavar shook his head. 'Nay, Beau. Although we could run two hundred miles in a day, still we could not keep it up day after day. Even Draega need to rest and eat. Too, in Farrin's name I promised to help you, and so I will.'
Beau took a drink from his waterskin, then looked at it puzzled. 'I say, it was nigh empty last night.'
'I replenished it,' said the Mage.
'Oh.' Beau looked about but did not see a stream or pool.
Watching the buccan, Dalavar smiled and then added, 'It will be full every morn, whether or no there is a nearby stream.'
Beau's eyes widened and he looked at his waterskin. 'I say, is this going to be one of those magic bags? I mean like those of the hearthtales? Oh, that would be splendid.'
Dalavar laughed and shook his head. 'Oh no, Beau, it is but an ordinary waterskin.'
They sat in silence for a while, Beau finishing the last of his breakfast jerky. A gleam at Dalavar's throat caught the buccan's eye, where dangled a small silvery nugget on a thong.
'That's what got us into this mess, Tip and me.'
Dalavar raised an eyebrow.
'Only in our case it was a coin on a thong and not a small chunk of silver. As it turned out, the coin was a summons, a call for aid, and that's why Agron is marching into Gron.'
'Someone summoned Agron to Gron?'
