Finally, to break the silence, Tip said, "Tell me, Eloran, just how does one go about finding one of these crossing points to go in-between."
The Dylvana set aside his joint of beef and quaffed a hearty draft of wine. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and looked at the buccan and said, "Elwydd Herself pointed the way to the circle of stones, or so it is said. As to the others, in my experience 'tis by happenstance we find them. We must look for places congruent from Plane to Plane, places resembling one another."
As Eloran took up a chunk of bread, Tip said, "And this stone circle…?"
"It is set atop a hillock, Sir Tipperton, where the rivers Firth and Hath join one another."
"A difficult crossing, I heard you say."
"Aye, 'tis that, for although the circles themselves in Mithgar and Adonar reflect one another, the 'scape nearby is contrary-there being but one matching river in Adonar at that site. Even so, the crossing from Mithgar unto Adonar will be easier than the crossing opposite."
"Oh, why's that?"
"I will be going home, Sir Tipperton."
"Home?"
"To Adonar. 'Tis said-and I've found it to be true- that going to where one's blood calls, that is the easy path. Going opposite is harder. Why? I cannot say."
Eloran looked about the table to see if others might know why, but all the Lian shrugged, for they knew not, either, though Vanidor cleared his throat and said, "Aye, 'tis true. Even Humans themselves find it so when they come back to Mithgar."
Beau looked up, startled. "Humans cross the in-between?"
"Aye," replied Vanidor. "Any who master the rites can do so. And all find it easier to go where their blood calls."
"Even the Riicks and such, I suppose," said Tip glumly. "Everyone but us, that is."
Beau sighed. "I just wish they would all go home."
They sat in silence for a while, and then Tip said, "I say, perhaps the Riicks can't go home on their own."
Jaith looked across and raised an eyebrow.
"I mean," said Tip, "perhaps they are like horses and such, and need to be in another's aura."
Phais shook her head. "I think not, Sir Tipperton, for then they would be nought but dumb beasts."
Tip grinned. "And who's to say they're not?"
Gildor barked a laugh and all the others smiled, the first good humor they'd had that night.
Just after the cold dawning of an overcast day on the twenty-sixth of March, Eloran and Aleen prepared to set out for the circle of stones, Eloran to return to King Blaine and bear Talarin's pledges as well as his warning of the presence of the Draedani within Modru's ranks. Aleen was to accompany him, for in the few days Eloran had been in the Vale, robust Aleen had taken him as her lover, she a half head taller, but he diminished in no way by her statuesque size. Yet she was not going merely because she and he were lovers; nay, Talarin would have an emissary at King Blaine's side, not only to represent Arden Vale, but to give tactical advice; Aleen was well trained in the arts of war-the conduct of battles her special forte.
Tipperton, Beau, Phais, and Rael all stood at hand, and a chill breeze blew at their backs.
Talarin stepped to Aleen's side. "Though I would have thee at hand in the coming conflict, Dara, High King Blaine can use thy knowledge and arm as well. Too, I would have him know that Arden stands at his side, and thou art the champion I send."
Aleen touched the hilt of the sword at her waist and canted her head forward. "Well will I represent thee, my Alor."
Canting his head in return, Talarin acknowledged her pledge, and then he turned to Eloran.
"A better warrior thou couldst not ask," said Talarin to the Dylvana, nodding toward Aleen, the Dara now astride her horse. "None more fit to fight at thy side or to watch thy back."
Eloran grinned and nodded, then mounted, casting a salute to Talarin and the others near.
"Ward each other well," said Talarin, stepping back.
Eloran glanced at Aleen, and at a nod, they spurred away across the clearing, clots of earth flying from racing hooves.
"May Fortune's smiling face be ever turned your way," cried Tipperton after them, but in that same moment they disappeared among the trees, and if they heard him, he could not say.
As Tip and Beau trudged toward their cottage. Tip sighed and said, "I just wish it were us who were setting out."
Beau looked up at the distant white crests of the Grimwall, and then down at the Virfla at hand, the river running swift with snowmelt. "Don't worry, bucco. Phais said we'd be riding over Crestan Pass within five weeks or so. I mean, look, spring has come, and the thaw can't be far behind."
As if to put a lie to his words, snow began falling down.
March came at last to an end, and then April plodded by, though the month itself was marked by birds returning with the spring, and still the buccen practiced at weaponry and mucked out stalls and watched as warbands came and went. Too, Tip yet attended Rael and Jaith and listened to them sing and tell tales, while he attempted on his own to master the lute with little if any progress. On the other hand, Beau spent time with Aris learning herb lore and other such, and he recorded all in a companion journal to his red-bound book. And Beau continued to help with the healing of Lian who had taken wounds. In addition, both Tip and Beau attended strategic meetings called by Talarin and his planners, as all tried to decide how best to aid King Blaine and oppose Modru. In these meetings neither Tip nor Beau proved to be of significant aid, for they were not trained in the arts of war. Even so, Talarin insisted that they be there, for they alone in Arden Vale could represent their kind.
In mid April, word came from the east march-ward that a Horde was on the move. South it tramped, down through Rhone, heading it seemed for Rhone Ford to cross over into Rell-into Lianion of Old. Talarin dispatched scouts- Flandrena and Varion-to follow at a safe distance until the Horde's destination became clear and, if necessary, to skirt 'round the Horde and warn those ahead.
In the last week of April, Loric returned from the marches, he and Phais to prepare for the journey unto Aven, for they yet were to escort Tip and Beau unto that distant land. And together with the Waerlinga, they selected and set aside whatever supplies they were likely to need.
As they worked, Phais said, "The Baeron should have Crestan Pass cleared by the first week in May."
Beau looked up from the jerky he was bundling. "Baeron?"
"Aye, the woodsmen of the Argon vales. Though mostly they live in Darda Erynian and Darda Stor. They also keep clear the pass, and charge tolls for doing so."
"Um, where is Darda Erynian and Darda Stor?" asked Tip, Beau nodding vigorously that he would like to know as well.
"Oh, ye have seen them on Alor Talarin's maps: in the common tongue, one goes by the name Blackwood or Greenhall, and the other by the name Greatwood."
"Oh, yes," said Tipperton, remembering the sketch of Tessa's map as well as those Talarin had in his war room. "Along the eastern side of the Argon, stretching from the Rimmen Mountains all the way down to Pellar."
But Beau remembered only vaguely where lay these two woods; even so, he did recall a rumor: "I say, isn't one of these woods haunted? I seem to recollect Tessa saying so, though which one it is, I can't bring to mind."
Phais laughed. "If either is haunted, wee one, then 'twould be news unto me. Mayhap she speaks of Darda Erynian, for Hidden Ones dwell therein."
"Hidden Ones? Oh, my. Then perhaps it is 'closed,' like places in the Weiunwood."
For three days they hemmed and hawed over things needed for the long journey, Loric saying, "If war has come unto the towns along the way, we'll be hard-pressed to resupply should the need arise. Even so, we cannot take more than it is wise for two packhorses to bear-ye twain, spare clothing, bedding, grain for the steeds, food for ourselves, and the wherewithal to prepare it."