to me.”
“Brekka, would you talk some sense into this buccan?” asked Binkton. “Tell him that trees don’t grasp anyone.”
Brekka slowly shook his head. “In the Gwasp-a swamp in Gron-I am told there are trees that scream like women, and woe to the one who rushes to the rescue, for there are ropy tendrils that live among the roots and grasp the would-be hero and hold him fast. Then those clutchers and the so-called tree feed on the captured person.”
“Oh, lor, oh, lor,” moaned Pipper. “I’ll dream about those awful things through the night.”
“He’s just joshing us,” said Binkton. “You are, aren’t you, Brekka?”
“Nay, wee one. What I say is true, or so I was told.” As Binkton and Pipper both gasped in dismay, Brekka gestured toward the forest. “Yet these are ordinary trees, and not those foul things of the Gwasp. So fear not, Pipper, Binkton, the trees here are quite benign.”
“Are you certain?” asked Pipper, yet doubtfully looking at the woodland.
In that moment the sun broke through, and the forest stood awash with light, banishing the gloom.
“Ah,” sighed Pipper in relief.
Binkton, too, relaxed.
After riding a moment in silence, Pipper asked, “Where are you bound for, Brekka?”
“I am on a journey back to my home in the Red Hills,” said the Dwarf. “I am returning from a three-year apprenticeship in Blackstone in the far-northward Rigga Mountains, where, among other things, I learned to set gemstones into sword and axe blades.”
“Oh, Bane and Bale were set with blade-jewels,” said Pipper, “Bane being returned to The Root after the Dragonstone War.”
“I’ve heard of those weapons,” said Brekka, “one a sword, the other a long-knife.”
“Bane is the long-knife,” said Pipper. “But it’s like a sword to a Warrow, being as, um, being as tall as we are.”
Brekka laughed, and Binkton asked, “Do you make weapons like Bane and Bale?”
“Would that I could,” said Brekka. “But those two were made by Dwynfor the Elf, and are magical. Glow with an arcane light when Grg draw near, they do, and such magic is beyond me.” Brekka sighed and patted a double- bitted axe that was never far from his reach. “But I do make fine steel weapons such as this in the Chakkaholt armories of the Red Hills.”
“And now you’ll be able to fit them with jewels,” said Pipper.
“Aye.”
“I say,” said Pipper, his eyes lighting up, “perhaps you could fit Bink’s bow with a gemstone. He’s a fine archer, you know-or perhaps you didn’t know, but that is neither here nor there. Me, I use a sling instead. But a jewel in his bow, well, that would look splendid.”
Binkton frowned. “I don’t need a gemstone in my bow, Pip; it’d probably just weaken it.”
“Not if it were done properly,” said Brekka. “I would put it just above your grip, and not in one of the arms. You see. .”
Much of the rest of that day, Brekka explained the ins and outs of setting jewels into weapons-into hilts, pommels, blades, helves, butts, grips, and such, and both Pipper and Binkton fell quite asleep during the drawn- out oration. Other passengers nodded off as well, but Brekka continued to detail the fashioning of such as the road slowly rose toward the distant mountains, the Dwarf talking to himself as much as to anyone else.
Three days and several changes of horses later they reached the way station among the foothills at the base of the col. In the morning they would hitch up a fresh team and take a second unladed team in tow, for the pass itself was some twenty leagues from end to end, and, but for a few pauses partway through to feed and water and change teams, there would be no stopping, barring a broken wheel or such.
“And barring attacks by the Grg,” growled Brekka as he oiled his crossbow that eve.
“You mean Spawn?” asked Pipper, his eyes wide in speculation.
“Of course he means Spawn,” snapped Binkton.
“What I meant, Bink, is, are any likely to be there?”
Brekka set aside his crossbow and took up his double-bitted axe and said, “It’s the Grimwalls, Pip, one of the haunts of the Grg.”
Pipper’s eyes widened. “Rucks and Hloks and Ogrus, you mean?”
“What else would he mean?” growled Binkton.
“Do not forget the Khols,” said Brekka.
“Ghuls,” said Binkton before Pipper could ask.
“We’ve never seen any,” said Pipper. “No Rucks, Hloks, Ogrus, or Ghuls. What do they look like?”
Binkton groaned. “You’ve read about them, Pipper.”
“Yes, but I would have someone who has actually seen them tell me from firsthand experience.”
Binkton started to protest, but Brekka pushed out a palm to stop him. “Ukhs are about a head or so taller than your folk. Dark they are, and skinny-armed and bandy-legged and have bat-wing ears and viper eyes; some Humans-notably the Harlingar-call them Goblins. They mostly use cudgels as their weapons, though some have skill with crooked bows loosing black-shafted arrows, poison-tipped, for the most part. Hroks look about the same as their smaller kindred, though their limbs are straighter. They stand about Chak height or a bit taller, and they use scimitars and tulwars as weapons and loose black-shafted arrows as well. Trolls, now, they also resemble the Ukhs and Hroks, though they stand about ten or twelve feet tall. They have stonelike hides that arrows do not penetrate, but they can be killed by a shaft through an eye or the roof of the mouth. The soles of their feet are tender, and caltrops do great damage to them. They fear fire. Like all Foul Folk, they also dreaded the withering death of Adon’s Ban, but that is no longer in effect. Oh, and Troll bones are stonelike as well, and the Trolls fear water, for they sink like rocks and drown should it be over their heads. Their weapons of choice are great, long, thick, heavy iron bars-warbars, which they sweep through their enemies, mowing them down like a reaper cutting wheat. As to the Khols, man-sized and dead-white and corpselike they are, and they use cruelly barbed spears and ride Helsteeds. Khols are a most fearsome foe, for ordinary steel-whether they be piercing or cutting or crushing weapons-does little harm to them, though they can be killed by a silver blade or by a weapon of ‹power›, by wood through the heart, by fire, by beheading, or by dismemberment.”
“See, Pipper,” said Binkton, “you knew all of that.”
“Yes, I know,” said Pipper, a tremor in his voice. “But hearing Brekka actually describe the Spawn out loud is like to give me the blue willies.” He paused and then added, “I’ll probably be riding a haggard horse all darktide.”
Binkton’s eyes softened, and he said, “If you have a nightmare, Pip, I’ll waken you and we’ll wait till you settle down again.”
Pipper reached out and touched his cousin’s arm and said, “Thanks, Bink. I can always count on you.”
They sat in silence for a while, and then Pipper turned to Brekka and asked, “Have you met them in combat, Brekka?”
“Aye,” said the Dwarf. “Many times, for the war against the Grg never ends.”
“How do you deal with Ogrus?”
“We use ballistas to launch steel-pointed spears.”
“Ballistas?”
“Giant crossbows we mount on wheeled carriages. Though if we must, fifty or so Chakka gang up on each Troll and we try to bring them down by heel-chopping the tendons or hamstringing them using battle-axes.”
Pipper turned to Binkton. “Lor, but I hope we don’t meet any Ogrus in the pass ahead.”
“If we do,” said Brekka, “the drivers will whip up the team and we will flee. Otherwise we’ll sacrifice one of the trailing horses to draw the Troll away. They cherish horsemeat, and that is what a Troll would be after.”
“Oh, poor horse,” said Pipper, and he reached out for Binkton again, who took him by the hand and said, “Pip, better a horse than us.” Pipper glumly nodded his agreement.
“We are not apt to meet a Troll in the pass or a Khol on a Helsteed, for that matter,” said Brekka. “Ukhs and Hroks are more likely.”
“Rucks and Hloks, eh?” asked Pipper, and he took a deep breath and turned to Binkton. “Well, then, you’d better fetch your bow and arrows, Bink, and I my sling and bullets.”
