Yo ho! Yo ho! Let's throw the snow, From bright fort walls sling white snowballs. Yo ho! Yo ho! Here comes a hat. Let fly the snow, knock it kersplat!
Let fly the snow, knock it: Kersplat!
And both Warrows found themselves laughing in glee.
They rode all through the daylight hours and came to Byroad Lane at dark. By then the snow was nearly a foot deep, and their ponies chuffed with the effort. Still the flakes swirled down thickly, but there was only a slight breeze, and neither Warrow was uncomfortable.
The ponies plodded through Budgens and past the Blue Bull. Yellow light shone out through the inn windows and across the white snow. Singing came from within; and as the two rode by, someone stepped through the door, and the song burst forth loudly, only to be muffled again when the door swung shut.
The Warrows rode on, and finally crossed the bridge over the Dingle-rill and passed beyond the mill. Their ponies plodded up into Hollow End, and they came at last to the curved hedge along the snow-covered stone walkway to The Root.
They had dismounted and were tethering the ponies to the hedge fence when the oaken door burst open, and out flew Holly. She hugged them both and kissed Perry. And Perry held her tightly and tears coursed down his cheeks, but he said nothing. And she held him close for a moment, and then drew them bodi inside. And there they found waiting a rich meal of roast goose and three places set at the table, for as Holly explained through her tears of happiness, 'It's Year's End Eve, and I've been expecting you all day.'
CHAPTER 10
A year and a half had passed since Mister Perry and Cotton had come home, and the Bosky was bubbling with excitement. For on this day-Year's Long Day-there was to be a Ceremony. Oh, not just an ordinary Ceremony-with Mayor Whitlatch giving a speech and cutting a ribbon-but a real King's Ceremony. In fact, it was even better than that, for it was to be a High King's Ceremony: High King Darion himself had come with a great retinue to the Boskydells. But it wasn't only the High King that had come: it seemed as if every King in Mithgar was in the Dells…well, maybe not every King, but all the important ones had come; and the gossips and the tittle-tattles were having a field day:
There is that King from North Riamon, Kian, the one as what fought the Rucks and such; there's that King Eanor from Vaion and his Man Brytta, the ones as what came with all those horse riders; and lawks! there's even a Dwarf King, Durek, the one as what gave Mister Perry and Cotton that box of jools! Yes, and he's got that Dwarf with him the one as limps, Tobin something-or-other, and all his Company of Dwarf warriors what came in riding ponies, wouldn't you know, except for them two Dwarf striplings, them as what came riding on horses, just grinning and lording it as if they were doing something really special. But more, there's that Company of Elves with the Elf Lord, Vanidar Shannon Silverleaf, and if he ain't the King of the Elves, I'll eat my hat! And who knows what other Folks might come, what with more Outsiders arriving alt the time. Why, another whole bunch of them big Kingsguards rode in from Dael just this morning. Oh, it's a big day in the Bosky, alright, one that'll be remembered when it's long past.
Yes, the Boskydells were all aflutter, because the important thing about the Ceremony was that all those Kings had come to honor two Warrows: Peregrin Fairhill and Cotton Buckleburr.
It's like the folks down to Budgens always say, 'Whenever them Kings get into trouble they allusfind they got to call on a Warrow or two to settle them troubles, whatever they might be.'
But the folks of the Boskydells thought that the very best thing about the Ceremony was that right afterward there was going to be a big free meal down at the Hollow Commons, and everybody-I mean everybody-was invited.
And inside The Root, Holly fluttered about her husband of one year, getting him ready for the Ceremony. 'I'm so proud of you, Perry, and Cotton, too,' she chatted as she straightened his cloak collar and brushed back a stray curl, thinking how splendid her buccaran looked in his starsilver armor. 'Imagine, you're to be named a Hero of the Realm.'
'Oh, piffle,' protested Perry, uncomfortably, 'I'm not a hero. Anyone who's read my journal knows that I'm just an ordinary Warrow and not some great warrior.' On the table by his bedside was his journal; it was open, and on the first page, in Perry's fine script, was written:
The Silver Call
A Tale of Quest and War as Seen by Two Warrows
The Journal of Peregrin Fairhill
'Well, I've read your journal,' said Holly, 'and a lot of others have too: the Ravenbook Scholars, to name a few. And we all think that your story, and Cotton's, well, it's a tale of a noble quest.'
'Ah, but my dammia, that's just it,' sighed Perry. 'My tale wasn't meant to be noble; it was meant to tell of the horror of War. 1 wanted to tell of War as it really is. In so many tales, none of the heroes ever get killed or even hurt.'
Perry paused, raising his hand to touch the blood-red jewel that marked the armor where the Ruck-arrow had pierced through. 'Oh, some hearthtale heroes now and then have been slightly wounded, nothing more. But in most tales, only the villains die. And the heroes never suffer the pangs of fear or doubt, and the villains can't seem to do anything right. Well, that isn't what War is really like. In real War, many, many heroes are slaughtered, and feel fear, and make blunders. And the villains are victorious… oh, so often.
'And as to it being noble: this War, well, it was just fleeing and fighting and killing down in a great, dark hole in the earth. We slew living beings, Holly, without warning when we could-Rucks and Hloks to be sure, and an Ogru or two, but living things all the same.'
'But it was necessary,' insisted Holly. 'Cotton says it was necessary; Kian says it was necessary; Shannon says it was necessary; Durek says so, and so does High King Darion, and all the Dwarves, Elves, and Big Men that have come to honor you.'
'Necessary, yes; still it was abhorrent,' said Perry. 'Arid so many comrades, who didn't deserve to die, fell in battle. So who am I to be singled out with' Cotton to be a hero? I'm just an insignificant character in the role of the world.'
'Why, Mister Peregrin Fairhill, don't you go saying such a thing!' protested Holly, golden fire flashing deep in her great amber eyes. 'If it weren't for you and Cotton, the maggot-folk would have won. They'd still be raiding and killing in the Lands around; and more: Shannon Silverleaf told me that if the Spawn had won, they would have started spreading out in the Grimwall Mountains again, and that would have spelled trouble for everyone. Why, they might even have tried to invade the Bosky after a time. But thanks to you and Cotton, that won't happen. You are Heroes of the Realm: Cotton's sword saved Durek from the Monster of the Mere, and Cotton was a Brega-Path guide, and he killed the Troll, and he carried the Horn of Narok; without Cotton doing those things, the quest would have failed. And you, Perry, you carried Bane that warned of maggot-folk, and you were a Brega-Path guide, and you found the key to the Gargon's Lair, and you solved the riddle of Narok; without you the Spawn would have won.
*'Oh, you're heroes alright, but you just don't see that you are. Instead you say you are just some 'insignificant' character in the world. Well, don't you see that it is just the ones that you seem to think 'insignificant' that are truly important? It's on folks like you and Cotton that major events turn. Without you 'insignificant' ones, the world would fall before the cruel and evil.
'Now don't you go downplaying yourself just because you're a Warrow and not a King or a Big Man or a high Elf, or even a clever Dwarf. You're a Warrow, the best there is, and a Hero of the Realm, and that's why all the Kings are here to honor you and Cotton: King Eanor's Land of Valon is no longer being plundered; King Kian's subjects in Riamon no longer live in fear of Rucks and Hloks; and Shannon Silverleaf, Elf Lord of Darda Erynian, his Land of Galion is free of spoilers; the Halls of Kraggen-cor are once more filled with Dwarves, and King Durek reigns; arid High King Darion, well, all is at peace in his Kingdoms again. And without you it would not have happened, and they've all come to pay you the highest homage because of it.'
