Beau frowned and said, "I say, by going to Bridgeton it seems you are not as shy about your presence as are the other Fox Riders we know."
Jinnarin laughed. "Not so, Sir Beau, although I must admit we may be bolder than most, for we have travelled around the world"-she reached out and took Farrix's hand-"Farrix and I, in Aravan's ship, the Eroean. Even so, it was necessity which drove us to such an uncommon act. And though we have sailed the world, still we let not just anyone see us, for our kind fear a repeat of foul deeds done to us long past. Yet, when necessity commands, there are those we turn to in trust: Elvenkind, Magekind, the Baeron… and now some Waerlinga. But even these we shun in ordinary times, lest our presence become commonplace.
"As to this mission, there are Baeron in the woods south of Bridgeton, and it is they whom we will ask to bear a warning unto the citizens of that town. Too, I deem they will carry on should we need give up the chase."
Beau smiled. "Oh, I see."
Rynna knelt. "You'll come back when you discern their goal."
Aylissa nodded. "Indeed, Adon willing, we shall return. Yet as to their goal, that we may never divine, for foul Modru drives them, and none knows his mind but his vile master Gyphon… and mayhap not even Him."
"Come," said Farrix. "We must hie." And he called his fox unto his side, Aylissa and Jinnarin doing likewise.
"Good fortune," said Linnet, as the Pysks mounted up, their tiny bows slung across their backs, wee lethal arrows in quivers at each of their hips, diminutive knapsacks slung across their shoulders and hanging at their sides.
"Good fortune to you as well," said Jinnarin.
And with cries of "Hai, Rux!" and "Hai, Rhu!'" and "Hai, Vex!" the trio of riders darted away, the foxes scrambling down the back of the ridge through moonlight aslant and toward the foothills below.
A week passed, and then another, and then another still, and yet no word came from Aylissa or her sire or dam.
And still Spawn moved through the Rimmens, heading east, though their numbers diminished.
Toward the end of the seventh week there occurred a most peculiar thing: the Foul Folk patrols and sentries vanished from the eaves of Darda Erynian and the Greatwood: none were seen north or south on the wold nor in the Rimmens above.
Over the following month or so, cautious scouts searched along the wold and in the Rimmen Spur, yet no Spawn did they see.
And still Aylissa and Jinnarin and Farrix had not returned.
"Where have they gone?" asked Linnet, as she and Beau carried a table out from the withy bower, a table which soon would be laden with food for the Autumnday celebration. Beau shrugged his shoulders but otherwise did not reply.
Rynna, carrying a tablecloth, gestured toward the risen sun of the September morn as it burned away the lingering threads of mist in the vale, though vaporous filaments yet tarried among the trees. "Mayhap east through the Rimmens… following the others."
Nix growled, "I said it before, and I'll say it again: something foul is afoot."
"I agree, but what?" asked Farly.
Before Nix could answer, from the east there sounded a black-oxen horn.
"Oh my," said Rynna, dropping the cloth and snatching up her bow from where it leaned against the bower. "That's Tip's horn."
She set an arrow to string, and her companions did likewise, all but Beau who laded a stone in his sling. And as they spread wide in a defensive stance, bursting out from the mist-entwined trees came Tipperton riding at a gallop, Kell on a fox running at his side. Tip set his horn to his lips once more and again belled its resonant cry.
"The High King!" shouted Tipperton. "The High King has called!"
Chapter 33
Halting his pony before the withy bower, Tipperton sprang to the ground, while Kell and his fox darted on beyond, heading through the woods for Tynvyr's wee dwelling.
"The High King has called," declared Tipperton, puffing with excitement.
How-? Where-? When-? voices blurted.
Tip thrust forth his hands palms out to stop the babble. "We were passing the ford, Kell and I, when…"
[Rudd hears something,] said Kell, looking up at Tip on his pony.
The fox's ears were pricked and twitching, and he faced south across the shallow flow of the Rissanin, the animal sniffing the mist-laden air.
Tipperton dismounted and put his ear to the ground, and after a moment said, [I hear nothing.]
But still the fox faced southward, though now and again it looked over its shoulder at Kell, as if expecting a command.
[Let us to that stand of trees and watch,] said Kell.
Tipperton nodded and remounted, and to the grove they went, stopping just inside the edge.
Moments passed and moments more, and then above the swirl of water Tipperton faintly heard-[Hoofbeats!]
He took up his bow and set an arrow to string as did Kell, and from their covert they waited, as the thud of hoofbeats grew stronger.
[Sounds like several,] said Kell.
Tipperton nodded but remained silent.
[Mayhap it's Ghulka on Helsteeds returning,] said Kell.
[Mayhap,] replied Tip. [In which event, be ready to flee should they spot us.]
And they waited among the dripping foliage.
Kell spoke a word to Rudd, but what the command may have been, Tipperton did not know.
Louder still the hoofbeats came on, and now through the swirling vapor Tip and Kell could see cloaked riders: five of them altogether and running at a good clip, trailing two remounts apiece.
[Not Helsteeds,] hissed Tip, [but horses instead. Even so, stay well hidden, for it could be Hyrinians or Chabbains or other allies of Modru.]
They ride in haste,] said Kell.
Aye, and with little rest,] added Tip.
How so?]
The remounts,] replied Tip. [It means they cover long distances.]
Now the riders came to the ford, and they splashed to a gravel-bar in the center and halted, allowing the horses to drink.
And the riders themselves cast back their hoods and dismounted to take on water.
They were Elves-Lian.
Tip rode outward in the morning mist. "Hoy!"
Swords and long-knives appeared in hands as if they had been there all along.
"Hoy," again called Tipperton, slipping the arrow back into his quiver and urging his pony out from the trees and forward. "It's me, a Warrow-a Waerling, that is-Tipperton Thistledown." He turned and looked for Kell, but the tiny Pysk was nowhere to be seen, nor was Rudd, his fox.
"Tipperton?" called one. "Tipperton Thistledown?"
"Aye!" replied Tip, his pony now trotting onto the trace.
"Hal, and well met! I have heard of thee. I hight Falen."
Tip halted his steed at the water's edge and dismounted. "Heard of me?"
"Aye, from Dara Phais and Alor Loric. We fought side by side in Valon."
"Phais and Loric, you've seen them? Oh my. How are they? -It's been so very long."
"They fight at the right hand of Blaine."
"Then they found him, the High King, that is?" Tip smacked himself in the forehead. "Of course, you ninny, if they fight at his side then they had to have found him."
Falen broke out in laughter, as did the other four Elves.
Horses watered, the Lian led them out from the river, and Falen introduced the other riders as they shifted saddles to fresher mounts: Dara Lynna and Alori Landor, Kes-tian, and Ellidar.
At Tip's query, Falen said, "We ride to rallye allies to the High King's side."
"At last! Oh my, what an auspicious Autumnday this is. I will gather those who fight alongside me, and we will answer his call. Where is he?"
"In Pellar, fighting the Southerlings-Chabbains and Hyrinians and Kistanians-driving them eastward."
"In Pellar? How did he get there? I mean, last we heard, he was in the west, fighting Modru's Hordes."