Dennis McKiernan - The Brega path

Shaking his head to dispel these fey thoughts, Brytta squinted up the looming wails to the jagged rift of sky far above, knowing that if fou! Wrg or aught else lurked in the splits of this dreadful crack, the wan light of day dimly reaching these depths was not enough to keep the creatures pressed back into the dark shadows at the deep roots of the riven fissures.

The walls of the cleft twisted tortuously, and the long path before the line of horsemen began to rise. Slowly they rode up out of the stifling narrow crack, to come at last to another open plateau. And as they came out upon the high plain, out into the cold crisp air of day, the sense of cloying suffocation left Brytta and he breathed freely again. And the wisps of fables and lurking Wrg fled Brytta's mind, though he still marveled at the courage of the Dwarvenfolc.

"Sire!" Arl exclaimed and pointed. Far ahead they could see a dun horse standing near several huge boulders where yet another bluff lunged upward, and again a great split fissured away into blackness.

"It's Eddra's mount," growled Brytta, and his heels clapped into Nightwrnd's flanks and the great black horse sprang swiftly forward. "Sound no horns," Brytta ordered as the column matched his stride.

As they rode toward the towering cliff, Eddra stepped out from the shadow of a boulder and hand-signal led that all was well. The Marshal felt a surge of relief that his scout was alive, for Brytta, seeing what appeared to be a riderless, abandoned horse, had fleetingly feared the worst. Yet Eddra was hale, in fact was less weary than his brethren, for he had dozed under the Sun while awaiting the Harlingar, whereas none of them had rested for nearly two days: Arl had ridden throughout the preceding night, while Brytta and the others had struggled without letup in the battle with the Krakenward.

"H amp;l!" cried Eddra, pleasure upon his features, as the riders wheeled 'round him in a semicircle and brought their steeds to a halt, half to the left of Brytta, half to the right.

Brytta dismounted and signed to the others to do the same, for they had been long in the saddle. "Hal, rider! Clear was your track and long have our eyes sought you. How fares your mission? Where be the Spawn?"

"The Wrg spies lie up in yon crack," answered Eddra, gesturing at the dark split in the face of the bluff, "waiting for the westering orb to fall." Many glanced at the late-afternoon Sun, and but two hours or less remained before it would set. "Far did they run through this broken land, and weary was I with the chase. Yet there they lurk in the deep black shadows, soon to fly out the crack's far side.

"Still we may head them, for to the west but a ways lies a path around this dark cranny, where we may pass beyond them without their knowledge. North, too, is water for'the horses. A short ride, then, will bring us to a deep stony defile through which they must pass, for it is upon the road to the Quadran Gap and the secret High Gate, a defile with steep walls where we may entrap mem and they cannot escape our spears."

"Hai!" cried Brytta, and his dour features broke into a wide smile, and he clapped Eddra upon the shoulder; for his warrior had scouted the lay of the land and had found a snare for the foe, a place where at last the Harlingar could stand athwart the fleeing Spawn's padi. "Let us spend no more time in idle chatter," he grinned. "1 would as lief be on our way. Lead, fair Eddra, and we shall follow."

Once again the warriors mounted, and this time their hearts sang, for now they had the knowledge that they were not on a shadow-mission-a mission of little or no hope-for each had secretly feared that they would be too late, and now they knew they were not.

Following Eddra, swiftly they rode to a narrow path pitching shaHowly up the face of the bluff. Along this slant the horses went, steeds and riders seemingly oblivious to the steep fall on their left. And at the top they came out upon the last plateau. In the distance before them they could see the road leading up to the Gap of Stormhelrri. To the west lay Redguard Mountain, and they knew that even now Wylf, at its crest, watched them ride forth into the open and toward the col. They pressed ahead and at last came to the side of the road, and here and there an ancient pave-stone could be seen, though most were buried and a few were thrust aside by weed and hidden in the tangle. And at roadside, a spring thinly crusted with ice bubbled down from the snows in the pass; and they paused long enough to water the steeds and to refresh their canteens.

Slowly the Sun sank, and just as it lipped the earth, they came to the defile spoken of by Eddra. The sides were steep and the canyon long; Quadran Road wended upward through

its flanks, to pass beyond sight at a far turn, rising toward the Gap. Up to the turn they rode, there to lay their trap for the Wrg.

Brytta gathered his riders about him, and in the dimming dusk he set forth his plan. And when he was done, each knew his assignment and was pleased, for Brytta was a mighty Captain, and his strategy suited their nature. He spoke in Valur, the enduring Battle-tongue of the Valanreach, which hearkened back even unto the ancient days when their forebearers had ridden free on the high northern steppes, a time long before any had come south to the grassy plains of Valon. And as darkness fell, Brytta repeated an elder benediction of the Vanadurin:

4'Arise, Harlingar, to Arms! Fortune's three faces now turn our way: One smiling, one grim, one secret; May the never-seen face remain always hidden.

Hal, Warriors of the Spear and Saber! Hal, Warriors of the Knife and Arrow! Hal, Warriors of the Horn and Horse! Ride forth, Harlingar, ride forth!"

And in the gathering darkness, the fierce Valanreach warriors, their hearts pounding and spirits surging, mounted and rode to take up their battle positions to await the coming of die Spawn.

Brytta, far up the defile, sat his horse and stared down the dark road rising up to meet him. Riders four abreast formed a long column behind their Marshal. And as they held, the horses were calm, occasionally shifting their weight; and saddle leather creaked and the thicket of upright spears stirred to and fro.

The night deepened and the stars shone forth. To the east beyond the range, the bright Moon climbed up the star-studded sky, and at last the silver rays spiiled through the gap between Grimspire and mighty Stormhelm, bathing the defile with pale, glancing light. And sharp-edged blackness clung to boulders and crags and streamed darkly away. To the west, Redguard's peak jutted up out of the shadows of the range and into the moonlight, and past Redguard lay the western wold stretching beyond sight to the River Caire. The air was cold and crystalline, and the night was still, and the breath of horses and warriors alike rose in white plumes.

And the spears of Valon waited.

Ppfaa! Nightwind suddenly snorted and tossed his head, and Brytta listened sharply. At first he heard nothing; then dimly came a sound, faint: a scrabbling, like a chitinous scuttling. Stronger it grew, resolving at last into the distant slap of iron-shod Rutch boot.

"Stel! [Steel!]" hissed Brytta, reining to the side, and the lances in the first row dropped level, held steady by firm grips, and clear eyes watched the far turn. Louder came the sound of running, and now all could hear the clack of harsh voices, cursing and snarling, whining, panting, grating, the speech foul. Louder it came, and louder still, nearly upon them. Suddenly, a ragged loping column of torch-bearing Rutcha burst into view, scrambling around the turn below, and they jostled and jolted and elbowed and railed at one another as they swarmed up the road.

"Tovit! (Ready.'!" Brytta hissed a second command in the Valonian Battle-tongue, and the horse-column seemed to bunch itself, as a tautly drawn bow ere the arrow is loosed. Yet tense and quivering, still they held their places; and onward came the Spawn, as yet unaware of the danger ahead.