Southwesterly they rode through Darda Erynian all that day and the next, and on the second day they came to the Rissanin River, to follow along its banks. And late in the afternoon of the third day, they sighted the wreckage of Caer Lindor, the island fortress nought but rubble, only the thickest part of the walls yet standing, no more than ten or twelve feet high in places, less in others. Of its towers and turrets and the great hall, nothing but broken stone remained.
'Goodness,' groaned Beau.
'Goodness had nought to do with it,' growled Delby.
Tip sighed and said, 'I would like to ride in, but I suppose they destroyed the bridges as well.'
'They were going to,' said Delby, 'but the Hidden Ones attacked just then. A good thing, too.'
'Good thing?'
'Aye. It allowed the Hidden Ones to cross over and harry and hound the Spawn from the Greatwood as well as Darda Erynian, and many more of the maggot-folk were slain. Too, this is a major crossing over the Rissanin, and the Baeron and Elves would not have it otherwise. The Hidden Ones ward it now.'
'Ah, I see,' said Tip, looking 'round, seeing no one at all.
And so, as twilight crept upon the land, over the western pontoon bridge they rode and into the shadowed rubble beyond, the mighty portcullises and ironclad gates nought but twisted metal.
'Lor', what wrack,' said Beau, gazing about at shattered stone. 'And Trolls did this?'
'Yes,' replied Rynna.
'What of the slain?' asked Tip.
Rynna pointed to a clear space on the courtyard pave, where a great blackened scorch marked the stone. 'We recovered as many as we could… and set a pyre. The Baeron, though, took their own dead into the Greatwood. But there are those we never found, and we think they were thrown into the Rissanin and were borne down to the sea.'
Beau shuddered and glanced at Tip, and Tip shook his head slightly, both buccen perhaps recalling the corpses they had seen partly consumed, yet neither said aught to Rynna.
'Well,' said Delby, 'if you've seen enough, it's time we were making camp.'
'But not in this place of death and ruin,' said Beau, shivering, 'not in this place of loss.'
'Look,' hissed Beau, pointing.
Among the trees along the western bank of the Rissanin there burned several small fires.
'Someone is camped,' said Rynna.
'Someones, you mean,' said Delby.
'A small force?' asked Tip.
'Who could it be?' asked Beau. 'Foul Folk?'
'Perhaps, though not likely. They fear this place,' said Rynna.
'Rivermen?'
Rynna took up her bow and said, 'There's but one way to find out. Leave the ponies tied.'
Moving as only Warrows can move, silent in their steps, among the trees the four crept, ever nearing the fires. And then Rynna reached out and stopped Tip at her side. She pointed, and among the shadowed wood and away from the light there stood a sentry.
Tip looked to see where Beau and Delby had gotten to, but they were nowhere in sight. And so, silently hand signalling Rynna to proceed and receiving a nod in return, arrows nocked, creeping low, toward the warder slipped the two, the damman angling away to Tipperton's right, ten paces from his flank.
Tip was no more than twenty feet from the sentry when the warder turned his face toward the firelight, and Tip smiled and stood up and softly said, 'Hadron, 'tis I, Tipper-ton Thistledown, and I no longer have the soap.'
Hadron started and looked Tip's way, and then he laughed.
As Hadron escorted them to the fires, Rynna asked, 'What's all this about soap?'
'Hadron was with Galarun's company, the Lian who rescued us from the Hyrinians on the Plains of Valon. In any event, he gave Beau and me a bar of scented soap as a parting gift when we went on. Like wildflowers it smelled.'
'I remember,' said Rynna. 'The scent, that is. It was on you when first we met… and the night before we parted.'
In that moment they walked in among the campfires, and a company of Lian looked up as they came striding by.
'Oh, Hadron,' said Tip, 'Beau and another Warrow are out there somewhere, perhaps we ought to whistle them i-'
'We're not out there,' said Beau, he and Delby stepping from behind an enshadowed tree.
'Ha!' barked Hadron. 'So much for Elven warders where the Wee Folk are concerned.'
'Rynna,' called a voice. Rynna looked across the fires. It was Aravan, and beside him stood another Elf.
'Alor Galarun,' exclaimed Beau, 'hal and well met again, and would you happen to have any bacon?'
Night had deepened and the fires had fallen to embers when Aravan looked at Galarun. 'Somehow, I think Modru knows of what we seek, and the Gargon was placed at Eryn Ford to thwart this mission. 'Twas only happenstance the Vanadurin sprang their trap.'
Beau's eyes widened. 'Oh lor', it's all connected.'
'Gyphon,' spat Galarun. He turned to the Waerlinga. 'And ye say the Spawn are yet nigh the ford?'
Rynna nodded.
'Then we need change our route.'
'Where are you bound?' asked Tipperton.
Galarun glanced at Aravan and then said, 'To Black Mountain.'
'In Xian?' blurted Beau, then immediately said, 'Of course, you ninnyhammer, Black Mountain is in Xian.'
'Why would you be going to the Wizardholt?' asked Tip. '-If I may ask, that is.'
'Great events are under way,' said Galarun, 'and we are sent for a mighty token of power: a silver sword.'
'Silver? Not steel?'
'So I was told. Yet whether it is silver plain or starsilver, or dark silveron, I know not.'
Rynna cast a small twig into the fire. 'You spoke of great events under way…?'
Galarun took a deep breath. 'Know ye that Atala is destroyed?'
Tip looked at Beau then back at Galarun. 'We suspected as much, but now you confirm it?'
Galarun nodded. 'Aye. A survivor, Talar, rode unto Darda Galion, looking for his jaian Riatha.'
'Jaian?' asked Delby.
'Sister,' said Tipperton. 'Jaian is Sylva for sister.'
'Oh.'
Tip turned back to Galarun. 'Then this Talar, he is an Elf.'
'Aye. A Lian.'
'Go on with the tale,' said Beau.
Galarun smiled. 'Talar's jaian Riatha, she is among those warding the wold north of Darda Galion, though I understand she and her band cross over into Darda Erynian now and again. Regardless, ere Talar went onward, he told us Karak had exploded, and great tidal waves rolled outward and engulfed many coastal lands, destroying cities, and slaying thousands. Hardest hit were the isles of Gelen, though the coasts of Thol, Gothon, Basq, and Vancha were inundated as well. For a calamity so great, only Gyphon could do such.'
'But why?' asked Delby.
'We think it was to destroy the city of Duellin, for weapons of great might are forged therein, or were forged, I should say… swords in the main. And these Gyphon would keep from the hands of those who would oppose Him.'
Galarun fell silent, but Aravan said, 'Many Lian lived on that isle as well-in Darda Immer, the Brightwood of Atala-and would have been a formidable force to bring to bear.'
'We knew of the Brightwood,' said Tipperton, 'and of the Lian, but not of the blades of Duellin.'
