Galarun laughed. "I assure thee, we are not invaders, though some would name us so-some of whom thou didst meet yester riding at thee up the slopes of a hill."
Flustered, Beau reddened. "Oh, my, I didn't think you were.-Invaders, I mean. I am simply curious as to why anyone would leave their own world to live upon another. I mean, I left the Bosky because I needed to find special herbs and other such, but you…"
"Ah, Beau, why does anyone leave anywhere of their own will if it is not to find something? Their heart's desire, adventure, peace, love, excitement, knowledge, or the like."
"But why here? Why from Adonar to Mithgar?"
Again Galarun threw back his head and laughed, his long hair free, his teeth flashing whitely in the firelight. "Ah, my friend, Adonar is… tamed: peaceful, placid… dull." Galarun threw his arms wide, as if to encompass all the world. "But Mithgar… Mithgar is yet wild, tempestuous, unkempt, savage, turbulent, exciting. We come here to feel… alive."
Beau shook his head. "Wull, at the moment, what with Modru's war and his Foul Folk and Kistanians and Hyrini-ans and Chabbains running amok, I'll take dull anytime."
The smile fled from Galarun's face. "In this case, Beau, thou art right, and gladly would I join thee in tedium."
As dawn came and the Silverlarks returned in a burst of wings and song, Tip said, "Hmph, even the birds know how to go in-between. I don't think it can be all that hard."
"You know, bucco," replied Beau, "after this is all ovef, the war I mean, we ought to learn just how it is done, just to see for ourselves."
Tip shook his head. "No, no, Beau. I think my da had the right of it: Warrows ought to stay put and that's that." Tip scratched under his jerkin. "Besides, I need a bath."
Tip asked one of the Lian, Hadron by name, where they might find some soap. "We're going to bathe in the River Nith," said Tip. "It's been awhile since we've been clean."
"When it rained three days out on the plain," added Beau, "though that washing was completely involuntary."
Hadron fished around in his gear and came up with a bar of mildly scented soap, its bouquet that of wildflowers. "Take care, wee ones, for the waters of the Nith are swift, and should ye get caught in her current, ye will be swept o'er the brim of Vanil and down her long silvery plume unto the Cauldron below."
"Ooo," crooned Tip, envisioning the fall and shuddering.
"Maybe we ought to take a rope and tie ourselves to a tree," said Beau.
Hadron laughed. "Nay, instead I will show ye unto a safe eddy."
Hadron left them at a shallow pool, its slow-turning water sheltered by a close-set row of boulders protecting bathers from the swift-running Nith beyond.
"I always wondered why the Elves came to Mithgar," said Beau, hearkening back to the conversation of the night before. "And now we know. -At least, that is, we know why Galarun came."
"Excitement," said Tip, lathering. "Hmph. It seems a rather improvident reason to come." He passed the soap to Beau.
"Oh, I dunno," said Beau. "I mean, given the endless lifetime of Elvenkind, spending forever in dullness would seem an unending bore, don't you think?"
"Hmm," mused Tip. "Perhaps you're right, Beau"-he reached for the soap. "Perhaps we just don't live long enough to see that peace and plenty becomes drab after a lengthy while."
"Oh, I dunno, Tip. It seems that after a good long while of boredom, one could take up games or a hobby or a project to bring some life to life."
Tip smiled, then his eyes widened. "I think you've hit upon it, Beau."
"Hit upon what?"
"Just this, bucco: perhaps Mithgar is not a hobby or games to the Elves, but a project instead."
"Project? What kind of project?"
Tip shook his head. "I don't know, Beau, but they do call themselves Guardians… guarding against what, I can't say."
"Perhaps it's against Modru," said Beau.
"Perhaps it's against Gyphon instead," replied Tip.
"Maybe it's against the rape of this world, no matter the cause," said Beau, "be it gods or acolytes or aught else."
Tip looked at Beau. "Even mankind?"
Beau nodded. "Even mankind. Everything's connected, you know."
They stood well back from the brim of the Great Escarpment and looked out over the plains of Valon a thousand feet below, their sight flying far, and here and there they could see faint trails of smoke rising into the sky.
"Lor'," said Beau. "Was it just two days past that we were rescued from the Hyrinians?"
Tipperton nodded in affirmation but did not otherwise reply.
"And it looks as if the war yet burns," added Beau.
"I think it'll burn for a long while, Beau," said Tip, turning to the left, where mighty Bellon Falls thundered down. And where the water left the Cauldron, the Argon River continued onward, curving away to the south in a vast arc, marking the eastern border of Valon. Beyond the river stood a mighty forest; oh, not one like the Larkenwald with its great tall eldwood trees, but a woodland of oak and pine, or maple and birch, and other common trees. Yet this forest was vast. It was the Greatwood, and therein dwelled the Baeron, tall men and strong, and tales told that some of these Baeron took on the shapes of Bears and Wolves.
But Tip wasn't thinking of these legends of old as he stared out across the world. Instead through his mind ran this morning's conversation about Elves and gods and acolytes and last of all of men.
Seek the aid of those not men to quench the fires of war, she said. Certainly the Elves are "not men, " and they did save us. Ah, but her rede cannot pertain to us, to Beau and me. We are just a pair of unimportant Warrows caught up in a dreadful war.
"A silver penny for your thoughts," said Beau.
"Huh? Oh. Hmm. Nothing, Beau, nothing at all. Certainly nothing worth a silver."
Galarun clasped Loric's hand. "Say hello to my athir."
Loric nodded. "That I will," he replied.
Now Galarun turned to Phais and embraced her.
"Is there aught else thou wouldst have us convey?" asked Phais.
Galarun stepped back and frowned. "Nought more than that which ye have told us." He looked down at the Waer-linga, then knelt and gravely shook each buccan's hand. "Though I ween he would be proud to hear of our timely meeting."
"Oh, yes," said Tip. "We'll certainly tell your da how you saved our bacon."
Beau grinned and said, "And we'll tell him, too, how we savored your bacon the very next morn."
Galarun threw back his head and laughed, then sobered. "Fare ye well, my friends, and may the smiling face of Fortune be ever turned thy way, and may thy mission to Aven go swiftly. Ye'll find the boats at the Leaning Stone, and Hadron will see ye across."
Waving good-bye to the Elves of the march-ward at Vanil Falls, the four along with Hadron set off upstream, following the banks of the Nith.
Within a mile or so they came to a great stone, leaning like a monolithic block against the southern bank of the Nith. In the hollow under the rock, three Elven wherries were tethered, and they used one of these to cross to the opposite shore, Hadron and Loric and Phais all plying oars.
Now Hadron prepared to row back over alone, yet before he took to the swift-running water, they towed the Elven boat upstream a ways, so that the current itself would aid rather than hinder Hadron's return journey.
Then Hadron handed Beau a small block, scented of wildflowers and enwrapped in waxed parchment, and it was a gift for the Waerlinga. " 'Tis soap, wee ones, yet take care to bathe in places of safety. I would not have ye swept away."
Tip laughed, and Beau hugged the Lian, and then with a "fare ye well" Hadron stepped into the wherry and plied oar to water and was borne away on the swift River Nith.