But that buccan-the one who had requested Rynna to retell the events of the meeting-that buccan, full of warm breakfast fare, had nodded off to sleep.
A sevenday passed and then another, yet Silverleaf and Aravan had not reappeared, and the army on the plains merely waited. The shipyards, however, were a hive of activity, the wrights working throughout the nights as well as the days: fifty of the Dragonships were measured and fitted thwartwise with wide, raftlike sections of heavy planks pinned to the underbracing, to span across from topwale to topwale and jut a yard beyond either side. Other raftlike sections of braced planking were made freestanding and later guided down atop those on the ships, where they were held in place by great wooden screws fitted through wide auger holes.
Too, sixteen of the huge Gothonian ships were made ready for sailing, the crews of the chosen vessels glad of something to do.
And even though not engaged in this work, the time fled swiftly for the Warrows, for on each of these days, by their commander's leave, they explored the city of Pendwyr, marvelling over the wonder of it all, Rynna herself in their midst. Never had they seen such a vast array of shops and dwellings, of inns and hostels, of places of goods and crafts. Even so, many of the businesses were but lightly staffed, and some were closed altogether. "What with the blockade and the burning of the ships in Arbalin," had explained Beth, a serving maid at the Red Moon, "it's the war and all. You should see it when peace is at hand and goods and people come in from all over the world. Now it's mostly soldiers and mariners, and a rowdy bunch at that, especially if Fjordlanders and Jutlanders happen to find one another in the same saloon."
"We have heard they do not get along," said Rynna.
"Not get along is putting it mildly, miss. If it weren't for the city watch, it'd come to murther, if you ask me. Though I am glad they are here, they need something to do beside stand ward at the city."
Rynna smiled to herself and looked at Tipperton, only to find him smiling, too. And then she said, "It's the war, all right, and I'd like to see the city in peacetime, when it is full to the brim. But tell me, Beth, what do you lack the most?"
"Oh, that's easy, miss: music. The playing of harps and flutes and lutes and drums. And the singing of songs. With war raging across the land, minstrels and bards are hard to come by, most having joined in the fight."
That night, the seventh after Silverleaf's army had arrived, and for the next nine nights as well, the Red Moon was filled with song, Tipperton and Rynna and Jaith and dark-haired Elissan playing and singing melodies-lute, pennywhistle, harp, and timbrel-ringing out the tunes.
And the inn was crowded with warriors, come to hear them play. And not a fight broke out on any of these nights, the soldiers at times singing along. Even Fjordlanders and Jutlanders caroled together, though from opposite sides of the room, Gelenders between joining in.
During one of the pauses for rest, as Tipperton and Beau quaffed an ale at the bar, Jaith and Rynna and Elissan huddled together at a table and now and again burst into laughter. And when Tipperton returned to the stage, and took up his lute, Rynna with her pennywhistle stepped to his side and said, "Keeping secrets, eh, of a certain bath in Arden vale?"
As Tip blushed furiously and glanced at Elissan, Rynna played the opening notes of "The Maiden and the Lad," and those in the tavern laughed and applauded at the familiar refrain. The buccan caught up with the song in the middle of the first chorus as the audience sang along.
Three days later a page came riding into the encampment, seeking Commander Rynna among others, and he handed her an invitation for the morrow night. Rynna called the Warrows together. "We are invited by Lord Steward Voren to a Winterday feast at the caer to celebrate Year's Long Night."
Dinly grinned. "Your entire Warrow army?"
Rynna laughed and nodded and said, "My entire War-row army."
Linnet's face fell. "Oh, but I was hoping to join Beau and watch the Dwarves in their mid-of-night Winterday celebration to Elwydd. I mean, though I am not Chak-Sol as is Beau, when DelfLord Volki noted I was an adherent of Elwydd he granted me permission to do so. I would not care to miss it."
Tip frowned. "And I was hoping that you and I, Rynna, could step the turn of the seasons with the Dylvana and Lian at midnight as well."
"Wull, me now, I'd like to join the feast at the caer," said Nix, Dinly and Alver and Farly all nodding their agreement.
Rynna smiled and held up the invitation. "Fear not, for Lord Voren writes that the banquet will be over in good time for all folk to worship Year's Long Night in their very own special ways."
In the evening candlemarks of Winterday, as snow fell upon the land, and Warrows and Lian and Dylvana and Baeron and Dwarves made their way to the caer, muted singing could be heard drifting down from dwellings above the shops and from taverns and inns and hostels. It was Winterday, the First of Yule, and in spite of the war, folk would celebrate. Even so, some dwellings were quiet, though'candles burned within, for those inside had lost kindred to battle, and this Yule was not happy for them.
Through the streets and past the second stone wall they rode, the looming facades of government staring coldly down as they fared by. Finally, across the swing-bridge they rode and into the courtyard beyond, where pages took charge of their mounts.
They were guided to a great banquet hall, a majordomo announcing the guests as they were ushered in. And as Rynna stepped forward, the majordomo called out, "Ladies and lords and honored guests, I present Commander Rynna Fenrush Thistledown and her entire army of Waerlings: Sir Tipperton Thistledown, Sir Beau Darby and Lady Linnet Fenrush Darby, Sir Nix Fenrush, Sir Farly Bourne, Sir Alver Bruk, and Sir Dinly Rill."
A murmur went 'round the chamber as Rynna and Tipperton, followed by the others, trod down three steps to the main floor, for though they were dressed in their very best leathers, still the Warrows seemed more like wee creatures of the woodlands than warriors of renown. With banquet tables ringed 'round the perimeter, the central space of the hall was open, and across the wide marble floor they fared toward the place reserved for them. All eyes were upon the Warrows as they made their way past, for as Lord Voren had said, seldom did Waerlings come unto the High King's court. At the table they found their chairs sitting on blocks, raising the seats to a comfortable height for ones of their modest stature. Even so, like small children, they had to clamber up to take unto their places, much to the amusement of the other guests and to the embarrassment of the staff who had presumably thought of everything, though it was clear they had not. Still the Warrows seemed completely unfazed at having to climb up the chairs, happily chattering among themselves as they settled in.
The feast was well under way, when the great hall doors boomed open, conversation falling to nought, the majordomo rushing in to hammer the floor with his long staff and announce these late arrivals. But ere the words could leave the herald's lips, Rynna cried out, "Silverleaf, Ara-van, you are back," as the two Lian strode across the wide vestibule and down the steps to the main floor.
"Lord Vanidar and Lord Aravan," announced the house steward, rapping his stave to the floor, but his words were lost in the babble of greetings.
Shaking snow from his cloak, Silverleaf strode to the central floor, and there he raised his hands. When silence fell, he said, "High King Blaine is well and sends his greetings and good wishes on this Winterday."
As this news was met with a resounding cheer, Rynna caught Aravan's eye.
[Our plan?] she mouthed silently.
He nodded.
Rynna turned to Tip and the others and grinned and said in Twyll, [Ready your slings and arrows, my entire Warrow army, for the King has agreed to the scheme.]
Across the sea in ships they sailed, an army of eight thousand six hundred and eight. And among the flotilla were fifty Dragonships, twenty-five of which were crewed by Fjordlanders, the remaining twenty-five by Jutes, three thousand warriors altogether, who would leave their ships upon the Ironwater and stand ward against the foe. All of the longboats bore the raftlike planking, more than enough altogether to carry out Silverleaf's plan.