Loric and Phais drew air in between clenched teeth.
"What is it?" asked Beau. "This Ghath thing, I mean."
"A Draedan," gritted Loric.
"A Gargon," growled Ralk.
"Oh, my," breathed Beau, turning to Tip. "One of those fearcasters."
Tip groaned and looked up at Phais. "If we are to deliver the coin, we've got to find a way 'round. Does it mean we must ride back across Gunar and up to Ralo Pass? Cross over if it's not blocked? Ride another thousand miles west looking for a way into Tugal?" Tip jumped to his feet. "Is this the way it is always to be, that we are driven south and west when we want north and east?"
Ralk looked at Tip. "Tell me, Waeran, is the delivery of this coin important?"
Tip took a deep breath and let it out. "I don't know. It seemed so to the Kingsman who bore it. Before he died at my mill he gave me the charge to see that it was carried to King Agron."
Ralk cocked an appraising eyebrow. "You are a miller, eh?"
Surprised by the question, Tip nodded, then plopped back down.
"A good and honorable craft," said Ralk. His gaze swept over all of them, then he turned to Raggi. "Raggi, da skal vad dek gein va Chucah. "
Raggi's eyes flew wide. "Det ta a Chakka na."
"Ne va net."
Raggi bowed his head. "Ma da taka."
Now Ralk turned to Tipperton and the others. "There is a way to go across the Grimwall, a way known to few who are not of the Chakka, yet Raggi will show you the way. But should you choose this path, you cannot take your horses, for only ponies are small enough to go through, and even then it is a squeeze."
Phais looked at the ponies and then the horses. "We will trade ye our three horses for three of thy ponies."
Ralk blanched and pushed out his hands, as if warding a blow. "Nay, we cannot, will not. Were we merely to use your steeds as pack animals or as dray horses to draw a wagon, then yes, we would trade and trade gladly. But we have no ponies to spare, and those we do have are needed to bear us throughout much of Gunar, and horses we will not ride."
Phais shook her head. "I do not understand."
Ralk leaned forward. "We are sent by Okar, DelfLord of the Red Hills, to scout out the strength of the enemy within Gflnar, for there will come a time when Chakka will attack this Horde standing in the gap."
"In spite of the Gargon?" asked Tip.
Ralk nodded. "Okar has sent for a Mage. It is said that they know of ways to deal with the fearcasters.
"In the meanwhile we are to ride the land at their back and see if they hold more forces arears. And that, Lady Phais, is why we need our mounts, for we must cover much ground in the coming days, then ride back unto the Red Hills with news of what we find."
Phais shook her head in puzzlement. "But thy mission would go swifter from the back of a horse."
Ralk shook his head. "Hear me, Lady Phais, in the name of Durek, no Chak will ever ride a horse."
Tip looked 'round to see Raggi nodding in agreement and whispering translations to Bolki, that Dwarf nodding as well; and Tip had no doubt that Vekk and Born would concur if asked, though for the moment those two stood at distant guard.
"Why not?" asked Beau, but Ralk merely looked at him and did not reply.
"Then thou art saying that if we use this secret way, we must walk across a reach of Valon." Phais's words were a statement and not a question.
"Aye," confirmed Ralk. "That I am. Unless of course you can find mounts in Valon to ride. Yet I fear that most of that land is abandoned, for a Ghath stands at the western door, and who knows what strides within the margins of that realm?"
Phais looked at Loric and Tip and Beau, then said, "Even walking we can reach Darda Galion ere we could go the longer way around, assuming that way is not enemy-held as well."
"Darda Galion?" Beau frowned.
"To get fresh steeds from our kindred," explained Loric.
"But wait," protested Tip. "What if the Horde has moved on?"
Ralk cocked an eyebrow.
"I mean," continued Tip, "if they've pulled out, say to attack someplace south-"
"Pendwyr," murmured Loric.
"Yes, such as Caer Pendwyr," agreed Tip, "well then, we'd be taking a long walk for nought."
"Tip's right," said Beau. "We must make certain that the gap is still held."
Ralk shrugged. "They were still there yester."
Tipperton's face fell. "Oh."
"Nevertheless," said Loric, "Sir Tipperton's advice is well taken. We should see that what was true yester still holds true on the morrow."
Phais nodded, then turned to Ralk. "Given that the gap is yet held, we will accept thine offer to lead us a different way, for we have little choice elsewise."
"Aye," grunted Ralk, "your choices are spare. Even so, I must have your word to keep the way of this path most private."
"Wouldst thou accept a pledge unto Elwydd?"
"Indeed."
"Then in the name of Adon's daughter, Elwydd, I do so swear."
Now Ralk looked at Loric, and he repeated the oath… as did Tipperton and Beau.
In the early morn, Raggi slowed the pace, for they were nearing Gunarring Gap, a choke point in times of peril, for here the Ralo and Gap and Reach and Pendwyr roads all merged to feed through the breach. Wide left of the combined Ralo and Gap roads they fared, wide to the north a mile or more, riding in furze and whin and pine and out of sight from the road, to remain unseen by any foe who might happen along that way.
Wide they rode in the gorse, and even wider now, for as they neared they could see trails of smoke wafting upward from the direction of the pass, as if many fires burned.
And Tipperton found his heart hammering and his stomach clenched in apprehension. And he looked at Beau to find that buccan, too, ill at ease, unsettled.
" 'Tis the Gargon, wee one," said Phais. "We all feel the pulse of his dread."
Now Raggi shushed them with a finger to his lips and guided them all to the backside of a hill that would overlook the passage through, where they dismounted and made their way through deep heather and a scattered growth of scrub pine and up to the crest, moving the last few feet in a crouch, all of their breathing quick with anxiety.
They lay on their stomachs and peered at the slot afar, and Tip's heart clenched and Beau groaned, for thousands of tents and campfires and animals penned in corrals filled a gap stirring with folk. And here and there black flags flew, bearing red rings of fire. In the center stood a lone black tent, a broad space all 'round, and with his heart Hammering Tip knew without asking that therein resided the Ghath.
Phais sighed and turned to Raggi. "Lead on to thy hidden path, Raggi, for Modru yet holds the way."
Northeasterly they fared for three days, an arm of the Gunarring looming on their right, its dark jagged peaks stabbing upward into the crisp, clean air. Yet spring was full upon the land, here in the last week of May, and in the lengthening days fragrant blossoms flowered, grasses grew, and late buds unfurled on awakened trees to join foliage green and splendid. And water seemed to run everywhere, down from the slopes of the Gunarring, pellucid bournes bearing pure drink outward to quench the thirst of the foothills and the plains beyond. And animals scurried upon the slopes, some burrowing, others freezing in alarm as the riders fared past, hoping in their stillness to remain unseen. And birds sang in the meadows and the trees and upon the high rock above, mating, nesting, engendering life. And nowhere in this eternal cycle of renewal was any acknowledgement of the vast war that had come.
Nigh sundown of the third day, Raggi turned easterly, and they followed him in through the hills and to a high aspen grove on the slopes of the Gunarring, where they made camp amid the trembling leaves.