Dennis McCiernan - Into the Forge

"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.

"Thou canst take our steeds back unto thy comrades and use them as pack animals," said Phais, "for I would not abandon them unto the wilds."

"Even so, Lady Phais," replied Raggi, pausing in the sharpening of his axe, "when my squad comes this way again, we cannot take the horses through."

"Mayhap in thy scouting thou wilt find someone with need," said Phais, turning now to Loric. "Hast thou aught to suggest, chier?"

Loric frowned, then said, "Nigh the Alnawood lies a barony, at least 'twas so long past-in the time of Fallon the Fox, ere the destruction of Rwn. Mayhap it still exists."

"Fallon the Fox, the trickster Bard?" asked Tipperton.

"Aye."

"Why, there must be a hundred songs about him, and many of his sire and dam."

Loric nodded but did not speak.

"Delon the Bard and Ferai the Ferret and Fallon the Fox their son. And now I discover they lived in the Alnawood right here in Gunar. Oh, but I would like to go there, and go there now." Tipperton looked at his lute, but did not take it up. He sighed and then rubbed his fingers across his cheeks, and they came away wet. "Oh, Loric, is this the way it always is in war? That we are driven to choices we'd rather not make? Impelled down dark paths by circumstances not of our choosing?"

Loric took a deep breath, then said, "Most of life's roads have unknown ends, yet in war more of the ways are perilous. That we are driven down these dark and deadly paths instead of choosing a brighter lane is a tyranny of war, an affliction forced upon us by the foe."

Raggi spit on his whetstone, then took it again to his axe blade. "The sooner they are dead," he growled, "the sooner we can return to paths of our own choosing."

"This is the way," said Raggi, pointing at the stony path leading up into the enshadowed Gunarring steeps. "The horses cannot go farther."

It was early morn, with the sun yet to rise above the peaks though dawn was well past. Raggi had had them prepare their backpacks, and then he'd led them to the far edge of the aspen grove, and now they looked upon the narrow way before them.

"We call it the Walkover," said Raggi, "though in Chakur its name is va Chuka. Twenty miles it extends, twisting and turning, and near the top you will find a long, low, constricting tunnel. Even were the path not narrow, this corridor would still bar horses. Cha! Well-fed ponies at times find it difficult to squeeze through."

Beau looked up the way, then shifted his shoulders to settle the pack he carried. He glanced at the others and said, "The day isn't growing any shorter, and the sooner started the sooner done, as my Aunt Rose would say."

"Thine Aunt Rose had the right of it," said Phais. She turned to Raggi. "I thank thee, my friend, for thou hast guided us well. Would that we could fare onward together, but thou hast thine own mission to follow just as we have ours. May Elwydd light thy way."

'At this benediction Raggi's face broke into a smile, and he replied, "And may the hand of Adon shield you all."

"Bye, Raggi. Take care of that cut like I told you," said Beau. Then he turned and started up the way.

"Take care, little Waeran," said Raggi after him.

"Fare you well," said Tip, and hitched his lute strap into a better position.

"And you as well," replied Raggi as Tip set off after Beau.

"Chdkka shok, Chdkka cor, Raggi," said Loric, adding, "ko ka ska."

At these words Raggi's eyes flew wide, for few other than the Chakka knew the Dwarven tongue, and yet here was an Elf who had just spoken to him in Chakur.

Loric cast Raggi a grin and a salute as the Dwarf stood mute, and then Loric turned to catch the Waerlinga.

"May thine axe remain sharp, my friend," said Phais, last, starting to turn.

"My Lady, should our paths cross again, it will be an honor to serve you and yours," replied Raggi.

Phais turned back and without a word kissed him on the cheek, then set off after the others.

With gnarled fingers Raggi touched his cheek where she had kissed him, and his eyes glistered as he called after, "Can it be done, I'll find a home for the horses."

With Loric leading and Phais following, they walked up the slope to the first twist along the narrow way, and Loric paused and looked back. Raggi yet stood at the edge of the aspens, watching. All waved, and with two hands Raggi raised his axe overhead. Then Loric and the others passed 'round the bend and out from Raggi's view.

With a sigh he turned and stepped in among the trees, and all about him the aspen leaves trembled in the shadows of early morn.

All that morning they wended upward along the slender path, the way steep at times and at other times relatively flat and rarely sloping down. But always it was narrow, strait, stone rising up about them or falling away sheer. Here and there tenacious grasses and scrub pines and mosses clung to crevices in the rock, and now and then they would see a cascade of flowers clinging to the lichen-spotted stone. The air became crisper the higher they went, and from time to time they came to places where ice yet clung stubbornly to enshadowed clefts.