Silverleaf raised up his white-bone longbow, and Aravan hefted his crystal-bladed, black-hafted spear, and together with Riatha they cried, Hal to the resolute Waerlinga, wherever they may be!
While Alver and Dinly grinned, and Nix and Farly and Linnet looked at one another and shrugged, and Beau and Rynna and Tipperton sighed in resignation, elsewhere in the camp, Baeron and Dylvana and Lian and Dwarves turned at this call, and many nodded in agreement or raised a cup in salute.
Urged onward by Volki, the DelfLord impatient to get under way, by dawn the column was again moving southeasterly along the wold above the banks of the wide River Argon.
Nine days altogether they followed this route, the waterway to their right, the Greatwood to their left, the leaves turning russet and brown and cascading to the ground in these early days of November.
And on the eve of the ninth day they came to the northern reach of the Glave Hills, the northern reach of Pellar.
"How far is there left to go?" asked Dinly.
Tip looked at his map. "We've come nearly halfway, I'd judge: five hundred miles, altogether, with another five hundred to go."
Beau counted up on his fingers. "And we've been on the way for, let me see, twenty-eight days, I make it. So, that would put us in Caer Pendwyr, when?Ah, eight days into December?"
Linnet nodded, adding, "Two days after Elwydd's moon passes the next first quarter, then it is we should see the city."
"If nothing untoward happens ere then," said Rynna.
"What could happen?" asked Alver.
Rynna shrugged. "I've come to realize that Dame Fortune is quite fickle."
A silence fell among the Warrows.
Finally, Beau said, "I say, did you take note of Lady Riatha's sword, what with its dark blade and all, sparkling like stars trapped within."
"Perhaps it's one of those tokens of power," said Tipperton.
"Like Aravan's spear?" asked Rynna.
"That's a token of power?" asked Dinly. "I mean, I saw it had a crystal blade and a black haft, but I didn't think it, um, special."
"Oh, it's very special," said Rynna. "A dark crystal bound by argent silveron to an ebon staff. When I asked him about it, he would only say that it had a truename."
Dinly frowned. "Truename?"
"Aye. A word which invokes its power."
"Power?"
"It, um, burns when it touches flesh; I have seen it do such in battle… in the days before Caer Lindor fell."
Dinly sucked in a breath between his teeth and whispered, "Magic," as Tipperton said, "Oh my."
Beau's gaze fell upon the saddlebags where his red journal was stored. "Wizard's work, eh?"
Rynna turned up a hand. "He did not say."
Beau frowned, then said, "I wonder if Lady Riatha's sword or Silverleaf's white bow have truenames, and if so, what do you think they might do if and when invoked?" Warrows looked at one another, yet none had an answer.
The next day as the column fared southerly, nearly six hundred Baeron emerged from the hills to join the march. They were those who had assembled in the south of the Greatwood and had waited to rendezvous with their brethren from the north. They fell in with Urel's group.
South went the column and south, the wagons and horses and ponies… and a thousand Dylvana, eight hundred Lian, twelve hundred Dwarves, twenty-two hundred Baeron, and eight Warrows, yielding altogether a total count of five thousand two hundred… and eight.
South-southwest they fared down the western reach of the Glaves, and on the evening of the fourth day of travel they came at last to the Plains of Pellar.
"Four hundred miles to go," said Tipperton, glancing up from his map and across the fire at Bwen. "From here the way should ease a bit."
Bwen wetted a finger and held it up in the wind and glanced up at the dark clouds scudding northeasterly across the full of the moon. She shook her head and said, "Not if the wind is bringing with it the November rains to come."
Braec grunted his agreement and then said, "Pray that it snows instead."
The rain began falling in the night, and by morning the ground was thoroughly soaked. Even so, Bwen spread the wagons wide in a long line such that none followed in the track of another. The vanguard was divided in twain: one to ride at the west end of the wagons, the other at the east. The main body of riders came behind the wagons, for as Bwen said, "I'll not have you out there in front churning up the good earth for my wheels to fall in."
Only the scouts were allowed to lead, and then only after Bwen lost the argument with Chieftain Durul.
Even so, the wains mired often, but the spare great horses of the Baeron swiftly pulled them free.
For two more days it rained off and on, the air damp with icy November chill, but the following morn dawned clear. Still the land was soft, and so, spread widely, south they went and south for days, the land drying as they fared, and on the fifth day Bwen declared that once more they could roll as a column, and on southward they went. And as they rode, Dinly said to Beau, "I see what you meant."
Frowning in puzzlement, Beau looked at Dinly.
"About travelling over half the world," clarified Dinly, gesturing at the wide featureless plain, nought but yellow grass and scrub and occasional stands of trees for as far as the eye could see. "I mean, could anything be duller than riding and camping and riding and camping and riding and camping and doing it for days on end? I mean, we hardly need to go out on near-scout; you can practically see everything there is to see without setting foot from here."
Beau looked out across the gently rolling land and nodded and said, "Still, Dinly, I'd rather have dull than war."
Linnet looked across at her buccaran and grinned. "With you, love, I think nothing will ever be dull. Peaceful, perhaps, but never dull."
Farther back in the column Rynna sighed, and Tipperton looked over at her. "Ryn?"
"Oh, I was just thinking: every step we take is but one more step farther away from Lark."
As Tipperton nodded, Rynna added, "Just one more reason Modru deserves to die… he and all of his ilk… Gyphon included."
A fortnight in all the march fared across the Plains of Pellar, striking for Caer Pendwyr, and in all that time though they covered mile after mile nothing seemed to change. Yet on the fifteenth day…
"Look rightward, Tipperton."
On patrol, Tipperton and Lyra, as expected, had come upon Pendwyr Road.
Tipperton looked up from the tradeway and toward the northwest, where a league or so hence-"Riders," said Tip, "and not just a few."
"A column," said Lyra.
"Coming to answer the King's call?"
Lyra did not respond, but instead shaded her eyes and peered at the oncoming force.
Tip glanced back northeasterly, where out on the plains fared his own column. "Shall we ride back and warn-"
"Nay, Tipperton. Those coming along Pendwyr Road are Elves."
"Elves? But how can you-? Oh, right. Elven eagle eyes."
"They bear a banner: green on grey."
"Green on grey… Arden Vale! Let's go meet them."
Lyra shook her head. "They will be here soon enough."
"Well, if we're not going to meet them, then this." Tipperton raised his black-oxen horn to his lips and blew a ringing blast.
Long moments later and made faint by the distance, from the road northwest there returned a clarion cry.
That one to be followed by a third horn cry, this one from the plains to the northeast.
Lyra looked back toward their own column, then laughed.
"What?" said Tip.
"Thy call," said Lyra. "Weapons ready, the vanguard comes at haste."