Deliberation and preparation are at an end. War marches toward us, and we must meet it. In this matter, the chief choice of action is upon Warmark Hile Troy. He will command the Warward, and we will support it with our best strength, as the need of the Land demands.
“But one matter compels us first-this Giant named Fleshharrower. The question of this must be answered.”
Roughly, Verement said, “The Stone does not explain. It is not enough. The Giants are strong-yes, strong and wise. They would resist the Stone or evade it.”
“I agree,” said Loerya. “The Seareach Giants understand the peril of the Illearth Stone. It is easier to believe that they have left the Land in search of their lost Home.”
“Without the Gildenlode?” Trevor countered uncomfortably. “That is unlikely. And it is not it is not what Mhoram saw.”
The other Lords turned to Mhoram, and after a moment he said, “No, it is not what I have seen. Let us pray that I have seen wrongly-or wrongly understood what I have seen. But for good or ill, this matter is beyond us at present. We know that Korik and the Lords Hyrim and Shetra will do their uttermost for the Giants. And we cannot send more of our strength to Seareach now, to ask how a Giant has been made to lead Lord Foul's army. It is in my heart that we will learn that answer sooner than any of us would wish.”
“Very well,” the High Lord sighed. “I hear you. Then let us now divide among ourselves the burdens of this war.” She looked around the Council, measuring each member against the responsibilities which lay ahead. Then she said, “Lord Trevor-Lord Loerya-to you I commit the keeping of Revelstone. It will be your task to care for the people made homeless by this war-to lay up stores and strengthen defences against any siege that may come-to fight the last battle of the Land if we fail. My friends, hear me. It is a grim burden I give you. Those who remain here may in the end require more strength than all others-for if we fall, then you must fight to the last without surrender or despair. You will be in a strait place like that which drove High Lord Kevin to his Desecration. I trust you to resist. The Land must not be doomed in that way again.”
Troy nodded to himself; her choice was a good one. Lord Loerya would fight extravagantly, and yet would never take any action that would imperil her daughters. And Lord Trevor would work far beyond his strength in the conviction that he did not do as much as others could. They accepted the High Lord's charge quietly, and she went on to other matters.
“After the defence of Revelstone, our concern must be for the Loresraat and Trothgard. The Loresraat must be preserved. And Trothgard must be held for as long as may be-as a sanctuary for the homeless, men or beasts- and as a sign that in no way do we bow to the Despiser. Within the Valley of Two Rivers, Trothgard is defensible, though it will not be easy. Lord Callindrill-Lord Amatin-this burden I place upon your shoulders. Preserve Trothgard, so that the ancient name of Kurash Plenethor, Stricken Stone, will not become the new name of our promise to the Land.”
“Just a minute,” Warmark Troy interrupted hesitantly. “That leaves just you, Mhoram, and Verement to go with me. I think I'm going to need more than that.”
Elena considered for a moment. Then she said, “Lord Amatin, will you accept the burden of Trothgard alone? Trevor and Loerya will give you all possible aid.”
“We fight a war,” Amatin replied simply. “It is bootless to protest that I do not suffice. I must learn to suffice. The Lorewardens will support me.”
“You will be enough,” responded the High Lord with a smile. “Very well. Those Lords who remain Callindrill, Verement, Mhoram, and myself-will march with the Warward. Two other matters, and then the Warmark will speak. First Mark Morin.”
“High Lord.” Morin stood to receive her requests.
“Morin, you are the First Mark. You will command the Bloodguard as your Vow requires. Please assign to Warmark Troy every Bloodguard who can be spared from the defence of Revelstone.”
“Yes, High Lord. Two hundred will join the Warmark's command.”
“That is well. Now I have another task for you. Riders must be sent to every Stonedown and Woodhelven in the Centre and South Plains, and in the hills beyond. All the people who may live in the Despiser's path must be warned, and offered sanctuary at Trothgard if they choose to leave their homes. And all who dwell along the southward march of the Warward must be asked for aid-food for the warriors, so that they may march more easily, carrying less.
“It will be done. The Bloodguard will depart before moonset.”
Elena nodded her approval. “No thanks can repay the Bloodguard. You give a new name to unflawed service. While people endure in the Land; you will be remembered for faithfulness.”
Bowing slightly, the First Mark sat down.
The High Lord set the Staff of Law on the table before her, took her seat, and signed to Warmark Troy. He took a deep breath, then got stiffly to his feet. He was still groping, juggling. But he had regained a grip on his situation; he was thinking clearly again. Even as he started to speak, new ideas were coming into focus.
'I'm not going to waste time apologizing for this mess I've gotten us into. I built my strategy on the idea that we would get word of where Foul was marching in fifteen days. Now we're five days short. That's all there is to it.
'Most of you know generally what I had in mind. As far as I can learn, the Old Lords had two problems fighting Foul the simple attrition of doing battle all the way from Landsdrop, and the terrain. The Centre Plains favour whichever army is fresher and larger. My idea was to let Foul get halfway here on his own, and meet him at the west end of the Mithil valley, where the Mithil River forms the south border of Andelain. Then we would retreat southwest, luring Foul after us across to Doom's Retreat. In all the legends, that's the place armies run to when they're routed. But in fact it's a hell of a place to take on armies that are bigger and faster than you are. The terrain-that bottleneck between the mountains gives a tremendous advantage to the side that gets there first-if it gets there in time to dig in before the enemy arrives.
“Well, it was a nice idea. Now we're in a different war. We're five days short. Foul will be through the Mithil valley ten days from now. And he'll turn north, forcing us to fight him wherever he wants in the Centre Plains. If we have to retreat at all, we'll end up in Trothgard.”
He paused for a moment, half expecting groans of dismay. But most of the people simply watched him closely, and several of the Lords had confidence in their eyes. Their trust touched him. He had to swallow down a sudden lump in his throat before he could continue.
“There's one way we can still do it. It's going to be hell-but it's just about possible.”
Then for an instant he faltered.
But Elena was watching him steadily. From the beginning, she had supported his desire to command the Warward. And now he was the Warmark. He, Hile Troy. In a tone of anger at the extremity of what he was asking, he said, 'Here it is. First. We have nine days. I absolutely guarantee that Foul will hit the western end of the Mithil valley by the end of the ninth day from now. That's one of the things not having any eyes is good for. I can measure things like this. All right? Nine days. We've got to get there before that and block the valley.
'Morin, your two hundred Bloodguard have got to leave tonight. Callindrill, you go with them. On Ranyhyn you can get there in seven days. You've got to stop Foul right there.
“Borillar, how many of those big rafts have you got in the lake?”
Surprised, Hearthrall Borillar answered, `Three,
Warmark.'
“How many warriors and horses can they carry?”
Borillar glanced helplessly over at Quaan. The Hiltmark replied, “Each raft will carry two Eoman and their Warhafts forty-two warriors and horses. But the crowding will be dangerous.”
“If you ride a raft as far as Andelain, how fast can you get those Eoman to the Mithil valley?”
“If there is no mishap-in ten days. Four days may be saved through the use of rafts.”
“All right. We have twelve horse-mounted Eoward, two hundred forty Eoman. Borillar, I need one hundred twenty of those rafts. Quaan, you're in command of this. You've got to get all twelve mounted Eoward-and Verement-down to the Mithil valley as fast as possible-to help Callindrill and the Bloodguard keep Foul from coming through. You've got to buy us the time we need. Get on it.”
