yet know that it was an entire army they faced, believing instead that they were meeting, at most, a company- sized troop. And so, once again the Dwarves issued against the maggot-folk in overwhelming force, and the skirmish was short and decisive.
Durek had ordered Cotton and Perry to remain out of the fray, saying that although Anval and Bonn knew most of the Pain now, he wanted to hold the Waerans in reserve, at least until the Great Deop was reached-then he would have an entire legion of guides. And so Cotton and Perry remained back in the corridor until the engagement was over.
The march toward the Mustering Chamber continued, and as they tramped, Cotton, who was happy simply to be reunited with Perry, chatted about the Army's trek from Landover Road Ford to Dusk-Door. In spite of his low spirits, Perry soon found himself becoming more and more interested in Cotton's venture; and Perry was slowly drawn out of his black mood by the tale he was told. Cotton spoke of: the shrieking, clawing wind at the Crestan Pass; Waroo the Blizzard and the blind guides and lost Dwarves; being snowbound and the great dig-out; the forced march down the Old Rell Way, and the mud mires; the arrival at Dusk-Door; the battle with the Krakenward and the breaking of the dam and slaying of the Monster of the Dark Mere; the discovery of the Host by the Rucken spies and Brytta's troop riding from the valley to intercept them; and the removal of the mountain of rubble and the opening of the Door at midnight.
Perry was fascinated by the story. 'Why, Cotton,' he declared when the other finished, 'you have lived an epic adventure, one as exciting as even some of the old tales.'
'Wult, I don't know about that, Mister Perry.' Cotton shrugged doubtfully. 'It seems to me that most of it was just a bother, if you catch my meaning.'
'Oh, it's an adventure, alright,' assured Perry, 'and when we're through with all this, I'll want to set it down in a journal for others to see.' He began asking questions, seeking more detail about Cotton's venture, and Perry's Weak mood ebbed as he and the other Warrow marched north and
east with the Host.
And both Warrows soon fell to speculating as to the outcome of Brytta's mission. Each worried that the Harlingar had met up with a Swarm; yet Cotton surmised, 'Oh, I believe the Valonners did their job, Sir, 'cause Gnar's army wasn't waiting at the Dusk-Door when it opened. In fact, nobody was. Not even you. But I knew you'd be alright. And since the maggot-folk weren't there, well, that means Gnar hadn't got the word, so as the Valonners must have succeeded in stopping the Rucken spies.'
'I'm not sure of that, Cotton,' mused Perry, 'not sure at all. I mean, I'm not sure that some Spawn didn't get through to Gnar. After all, if they did get through, there would have been only a bit more than a day for Gnar to muster his forces. And perhaps he has-has mustered them, that is. Perhaps there's a great ambush awaiting us ahead and we're walking into an enormous trap.'
Cotton's heart gave a lurch at these ominous words. 'Wull, if that's true, Sir, then that means that Marshal Brytta may have met up with more than he bargained for; and that would be news I'd rather not know about.' Yet, in spite of his remarks, Cotton fretted over the fate of the riders of the Valanreach, and would have given much to know their state of health and their whereabouts.
At that very moment, it was early morning in the Ragad Valley, and Brytta, at the fore of the Harlingar, had just ridden in to find the vale empty of all but his kinsman Farlon and the Dwarven wounded, preparing to embark on the journey south to the grassy valley.
Farlon was overjoyed to see the Vanadurin arrive, for he had longed to know their lot; and now he could see that most were safe, though his searching eyes failed to find some of his comrades in the column. Too, he felt relief, for now he would have escort in moving the wounded. And now, also, the herd could be driven south, and not left to wander the wold. The horses had been loosed, yet in their lameness had not gone from the valley.
At Brytta's query, Farlon explained that it was he who had fired the recall beacon atop the great spire of the Sentinel Stand after the Door had opened and the Host had entered. Brytta then ordered that more wood for yet another signal fire be laid high upon the towering spike to call the riders back should Wrg come fleeing out of the Dusk-Door; the top of the spire was the best place for the beacon, for, as reported by Farlon, a fire upon the tall spire should clearly be visible from the southern pasture. Three scouts, Trell, Egon, and Wylf, were named to this balefire duty. Taking turns, one of the trio always would be atop the stand to set the beacon ablaze if the Rutcha came. As Brytta said when he gave over the guard duty to the three, 'I'm certain you would rather ward against a danger that never comes, than to wait with the rest of us in a pasture watching horses crop grass.'
Then Brytta and the Harlingar rounded up the horses and waggons bearing the wounded and began- the drive south, following Farlon's lead. And Farlon was pleased, for not only was he reunited with his fellow Vanadurin, he also was fulfilling the pledge he had made to Prince Rand and to that fiery little Waldan, Cotton: a pledge to guide the wounded Dwarves to safe haven.
But neither Perry nor Cotton knew of those events then occurring in the Ragad Valley, and so they fretted over the unknown fate of the Harlingar; yet in spite of this uncertainty, Perry had nearly regained his former pluck. Even so, when they came to the Bottom Chamber, where last he had seen the missing trio of companions, Perry's high spirits crashed.
The Chamber was empty of Spawn; the word of a Dwarf army had passed ahead of the Host, and the Rucks and Hloks had fled before them. As the Legion marched across the arch over the stream and into the huge round room, Perry looked toward the notch in the north wall; no light came through it from the cavern beyond. 'There, Prince Rand,' said the Warrow, pointing, 'mere's where Lord Kian, Shannon Silverleaf, and Ursor the Baeran misled the Rucks.'
Rand looked on bleakly as they tramped by. Suddenly the Prince ran to the cleft and down its length, and peered into the black cave beyond, and whistled a shrill call that echoed and shocked along the cavern to be lost in its dark distance. Twice more he whistled, and each time at echo's death he was answered only by ebon silence. When he returned to-the column, his face bore a stricken look, and he spoke not. Peny, too, fell into mute despair. And the Army marched on.
Here Cotton took over the guide chores from Bonn; the Host now began moving into the corridors between the Bottom Chamber and the Grate Room, a part of the Brega Path not yet trod by Borin, for the Squad had fled through the Gargon's Lair instead.
Bane's blade-jewel spoke only of distant danger, and the long column soon reached the Side Hall, where the floor of
the corridor began its long, gentle upward slope out of the lower Neaths and toward the upper Rises. During this part of the trek, Cotton chatted gaily, trying mightily to draw Perry out of his biack mood, but to no avail.
As they marched away from the Side Hall, Bane began to glimmer more strongly, and word was passed that Squam were coming nigh. They tramped for two more miles and Bane's light slowly faded; but then a great hubbub washed over the Legion from the rear of the column. 'Hey,' questioned Cotton, 'what's all mis commotion about?' But no one there could answer him.
Finally, word was passed up-column to Durek that a large force of Rucks had boiled out of the Side Hall and had atacked the rear guard of the Host. A savage battle had ensued, and the Spawn were once again routed, but this time some Dwarves had fallen in the fight.
'So it begins at last,' rasped Durek. 'The foul Grg will harass and ambush us from coverts until Gnar musters his forces for battle. Pass the word that the War has begun. Henceforth, the slain shall lie where they are felled, and we shall remain unhooded until the last battle is done.'
The march began again, and now Cotton fell into a black mood too, for he knew not the lot of Bomar, Captain of the Rear Guard, nor the fate of his friends of the cook-waggon crew. But though the Warrow fretted, he continued to guide well, and the Legion made good time in their trek toward the Grate Room. Again Bane's rune- jewel began to glow brighter as they marched east; and the nearer they came to the Room, the more luminous became the blue flame. They trod swiftly, and the vanguard of Felor's forces gripped their axes in readiness as they quickstepped up the passageway. And then from ahead they heard a great shouting of maggot-foik and a clatter of weapons.
Felor's companies sprang forward, and they raced toward the last turn before the Grate Room. As they rounded the curve, up a long straight corridor they could see torchlight, and there were Spawn clamoring and milling about the door of the Room, battering it with hammers and a ram. Momentarily, the Rucken band did not see the Dwarves; and Felor's Companies made many running strides toward the enemy before the Host was detected; and then it was too late, for the Rucks had not enough time to array themselves to meet the rush. There
