Dennis McKiernan - The Brega path

But at that moment the land opened somewhat, calling for a faster pace. Arl shifted the banner spear from the left stirrup to the right, couching the haft butt in the cup there, and spurred his horse to a swift canter. They rode thus for a time before coming again to shattered land where the column had to slow. And when the pace dropped back, Arl continued as if there had been no break in his narrative: "We were filled with foreboding, whelmed by the unknown yet dire portent of the flaring upon the Loomwall. It seemed as if some great battle perchance raged in the Valley of the Door while we three on Redguard stood mayhap a less necessary duty. We argued whether or not to ride to the vale to help; yet we knew not the cause of the flaming, thus could not easily decide upon our course: at hand directly below us was the given threat of a small, perhaps unimportant, force of Wrg; while far off was the sign of a great raging effort of some unknown action, which for aught we knew could be entirely peaceful, though we three thought elsewise."

"Arn!" snorted Brytta. " 'Twas anything but peaceful, yet I interrupt. Go on."

"In the end," continued Arl, "we chose to hew to our original duty-to watch the Gap for a Rutchen army-^-but also to watch the track of mis Wrg band below us. In any event, in spite of the fact that we would rather be at our comrades' sides in any conflict, we knew that surely the Host could face any foe and fare as well without us as with us, though it goes against the grain to admit so. On the other hand, we alone knew of this squad of ravers. We knew, too, mat should they espy the Host at the Dusk-Door, then Gnar would be alerted, to me ill of our quest."

"You chose aright," commented Brytta, "though difficult h is to forbear rushing to the aid of arms-mates."

"After a time," Arl went on, "the Spawn once again started south, toward the valley, and we came to the decision that one of us should ride to warn the Host, mayhap to set a trap or to divert the Foul Folk if it seemed they were near to discovering the Army. Yet, to set a trap, we needed to know their goal; and to divert them, if that became necessary, we needed to be on their track. The ravers had just passed beyond sight within the foothills., and we were not certain as to their course.

"In haste, we drew lots. Wylf lost, pulling the short twig, and was left atop that cold Redguard Mountain while Bddra and 1 rode down to trail the Spawn. I had drawn the long stick and would be the messenger to warn the Host should the need arise.

"Ahorse, we followed their path along a rocky trace, and in the full moonlight we set a goodly pace. Soon we came to where we could again see their torches, and we lagged far behind, trailing their slow march southward. After the mid of night, as if a vast fire had been drowned, the Great Loomwall suddenly went dark, and again the Wrg milled about in confusion or fright, as if they were undecided as to what course to follow. And both Eddra and I were sore beset with doubt, for we knew not the meaning either, but we guessed yet again that something dire was happening south in the Ragad Valley. But we knew our duty was to follow the Spawn, as we had planned.

"Once more the Wrg started toward the Ragad Vale, and again we trailed them. Some time passed, and we covered two leagues or so. They drew nigh to the Valley of the Door, and Eddra and I knew we had to decide soon on how we would act: to ride among them, shouting, and then away to draw them off; or to wait to see their goal, and then warn the Host. But ere we could act, a second torch-bearing gang of thirty more came through the night-but they came from the direction of the valley. The two bands clotted together and shouted and snarled and cursed one another, and the two leaders argued; but then with a lashing abouf of thongs, the Droken leaders turned the Rutcha back toward Quadran Pass.

' 'Moving quickly now, no longer uncertain, loping at Rutch-pace, they began running toward the Quadran Gap, coming straight at Eddra and me. We quickly stepped our mounts off the path and into the surrounding dark scrub and rock, and we dismounted, holding our steeds' muzzles to prevent a challenge. The returning Wrg loped past without seeing us, and among their words both Eddra and I heard one of them snarl something about '… we tell Gnar of the dam-breaking lake-draining army of foul-beards at the buried door!' Though we knew not what all overheard meant, we did know that the Host had been discovered by these Spawn now on their way to the High Gate to warn Gnar.

"As soon as they were beyond hearing, Eddra told me to ride to warn the Legion while he stayed behind to trail the Wrg and leave Valanreach signs along their track for pursuers to follow. And we parted, Eddra following Rutcha and Drokha north while I hastened south.

"Swiftly I rode, and the Moon was bright; yet I could not fly apace until the coming of first light, and then at last Firemane could see to run in full. And as I rode, I knew that only the Vanadurin would be fleet enough to intercept the two bands of Wrg ere they reached the pass-if they have not yet attained that goal. But I think the dayrise will have found them short of the Gap, and they will be holed up awaiting nightfall-at least I hope their Wrg-lope was not fast enough to carry them to Stormhelm before the coming of the Sun.

"And you know the rest of the tale, Sire." Arl fell silent, and onward they rode, following Eddra's well-placed markers.

Thus had Arl told his full tale; and now, miles later, Brytta reflected upon the scout's words for some shred, some scant fact, that would give the Vanadurin added advantage over the foe-but beyond knowing their number and dieir goal, the Reachmarshal found nought he could use.

Once more the column of Valanreach riders came, upon an open flat, and again the pace quickened as swiftly they coursed north, and the high stone of the flanking-mountain ramparts flung back the thunder of their passage, and the plateau drummed beneath the driving hooves.

Ahead they could see a towering scarp rear up from the land and stand athwart their path, and a great dark crack jagged upward into its flank. And toward this yawning split, Eddra's signs pointed. Black it looked, dark though the Sun still rode the sky. And the closer they came, the more dreadful it seemed. And into this fissure, Eddra's track plunged.

The column rode into the forbidding cleft, now single file, for the walls were close upon them. Though it was daytime still, a shadowy muffled murk clutched at them, and the rays of the Sun fell dim and feeble into the cold depths. Splits and cracks radiated away into the flanks, their ends beyond seeing, lost in darkness. Horses shied and started at the black gap-ings, sensing the disquiet of the riders they bore as they passed these holes. Ancient Vanadurin legends told of the haunted Realm of the Underworld, where dwelled the living dead; and ever in these hearthtales, heroes came to woe and grief and unending agony. And always these paladins had entered into the halls of the dead through caves and rifts and clefts in the land, ignoring the warnings of a loved one to stay clear of these fissures. Hence, for those accustomed to open skies and grassy plains, these dark legends gave rise to inchoate yet palpable feelings of dread whenever a dark pit yawned before them. And the Vanadurin column now rode through the dim light at the bottom of a black abyss while splits and cracks and holes without number leapt at them from the looming stone walls; and the pits cast back shattered echoes, reverberating hollowly like laughter from Hel.

These dim legends scuttled on spider claws through Brytta's mind as he felt his hackles rise, but he dismissed them, for warriors believe they have long since cast aside the hearthtales of youth. Still, the thought of being underground was dire, and the prospect of fighting a War below earth-as the Dwarves were wont to do-caused Brytta to marvel at the Dwarves' staunch courage, and unformed feelings of apprehension rose within his own heart. But uneasy or not, the column rode ahead, as Brytta fleetingly thought of Hel. And his sight darted from hole to hole. And it seemed as if he could feel the presence of hundreds of malevolent Rutchen eyes glaring out at the passing horsemen-if not the Spawn they were pursuing, then perhaps others; for despite Durek's assurances to the contrary, the Valanreach Marshal was more than convinced that the walls of this region were riddled^with a thousand secret bolt holes to the great Black Hole of Drimmen-deeve-a thousand places for sudden assault or surreptitious spying or swift escape. Yet even if there were not here secret shafts boring away to the Black Maze, still Brytta felt watched. Were the eyes of the undead staring out from die blackness? Hel's spawn?