"Hush," said Nix, suppressing a yawn. "Let Rynna speak."

Overhead cold stars wheeled through the wee hours of the morning. Silverleaf and the others had returned late, and Rynna had awakened the Warrows to hear what had befallen.

And now as Rynna added another stick to the fire, she said, "The King's steward, Lord Voren, says Blaine is east of here, some seven hundred miles, along the Ironwater River."

"Oh no," groaned Dinly, looking at Beau. "Another half the world away. I don't, uh, I…"

Rynna glared Dinly to silence. "He pursued the Souther-lings from Gunarring Gap to there. They fled before the King and his host-those who broke the siege at the gap.

"East they ran, did the foe, the King close after: across Valon and over the Argon River they fled; across Pellar; and over the Ironwater, where they now stand.

"And the King holds on this side of the river, for the enemy wards the opposite shore, and to try to cross in the face of the foe is nought but begging for death."

"Oi, now wait a moment," said Farly. "They made no opposition at the Argon?"

Rynna shook her head. "The very same question I asked, Farly, but Lord Voren said no."

"Yet now they ward the Ironwater?" asked Farly. "Less wide, less formidable than the Argon?"

"Indeed," replied Rynna.

"Why there and not the Argon?" asked Tip.

"Voren thinks it's because H?l's Crucible is at their backs, and it daunts them to think of fleeing across that wasteland dire."

Tip flipped through his maps and frowned. "Well, Lord Voren is right about that. -I mean, H?l's Crucible is just beyond the Ironwater."

"Does the King have a plan?" asked Nix.

"Aye," replied Rynna. "Blaine believes the foe will soon have no choice but to abandon warding the opposite shore. Since they cannot live off that barren land, and with little in the way of supplies and nought but H?l's Crucible at their backs, the King simply waits, rather like a siege, only this time 'tis the foe held at bay."

Beau sighed. "I suppose we've got a long ride ahead of us; as Dinly says, another half a world away."

Rynna grinned and shook her head. "No, Beau, not this time."

Linnet frowned at Rynna. "No? Are we just going to sit here?"

"That's what I'd like to know, too," chimed in Nix. "Are we to abandon the High King? Leave him deadlocked with the foe?"

"On the contrary," said Rynna. "You see, Silverleaf has a plan."

Chapter 35

The next morning the Warrows stood on the high northern bluffs of the headland and watched as a swift Fjordlander Dragonship set sail from the docks below. With spike-bearing, round wooden shields fixed at hand along its top wale and its square sail set by a beitass to catch at the wind, a crew of Human warriors with axes in their belts rowed the longship out of Hile Bay and toward the ocean beyond, soon to slip eastward through the indigo waters of the dark blue Avagon Sea. Amidships stood half a dozen horses separated one from the other by slender poles affixed thwartwise from wale to wale, and at the prow stood Vanidar, Aravan right behind, the warleader and his trusted advisor sailing away from the caer.

As they slid from sight 'round the shoulder of the headland, Rynna sighed and said, "Well, there they go, Sil-verleaf and Aravan, off to see King Blaine."

"Do you think his plan will really work?" asked Linnet. "-Using Dragonships for pontoons?"

"I don't see why not," said Nix. Then he pointed down at the long stone wharf. "Look, even now workers bear planks to the shipwrights below." On the jetty, men carted great loads of lumber toward the shipyard.

"Huah," grunted Beau. "Like a string of ants haling choice bits of fruit home to the hill."

"Well, as to the work these ants do, let us hope it bears sweet fruit as well," said Linnet.

"The fruit this will bear is more like to be bitter," said Rynna, "yet it is a crop we must harvest regardless."

Dinly yawned long and loud. "Oh my, but I don't think I got enough rest last night, and we rose ere the sun this day. And speaking of last night, Ryn, could you say again just how all this came about. I was rather sleepy, you know, and I think I may have missed something in the telling."

"Well, Dinly, speaking of getting up early, what say we have some breakfast, and Rynna can tell us then," said Beau. He looked at Linnet. "I could use a good wake-up cup of hot tea."

They stepped to their ponies and mounted and rode toward the camp, faring down the slope Silverleaf and his captains had ridden up the evening before…

Bearing the flags of Darda Galion, Darda Erynian, Arden Vale, and Kraggen-cor, seven rode away from the camp of the legion and toward Caer Pendwyr above-War-leader Vanidar, Corons Eiron and Ruar, Chieftains Urel and Durul, DelfLord Volki, and Commander Rynna. Rynna felt somewhat out of place, having no flag of her own, but neither did the Baeron, and they seemed no less for the lack. Up the long slope they rode, to come at last to a steep embankment, the earthworks stretching out left and right, spanning the width of the headland. In three places along the rampart there stood heavy-timbered, wooden gates: center left, center right, and midmost. And above the gates stood warders, sentries in red-and-gold tabards. Vanidar had chosen to ride to the center gate, and now he and the others paused below.

"We have come in answer to the High King's call," said Silverleaf to the warders above, "and Lord Steward Voren has summoned us unto council. I am Warleader Vanidar, Lian Guardian"-he gestured to those behind-"and these are those whose armies I serve."

Rynna's eyes widened. These are those whose armies he serves? Hmph! Eight Warrows. Some army.

"Welcome, my Lord Vanidar," called down the gate captain, "we were told to expect you"-his gaze widened at the sight of Rynna-"though not the Elfchild you bring."

Before Vanidar could respond, Rynna said, "No Elfchild am I, but the commander of the force of Warrows."

Now the captain's eyes widened, and he breathed, "Waerlings." Recovering, he turned and spoke a command to unseen soldiers below, and Rynna could hear the rumble of a drawbar being pulled.

Through the gateway they rode, and beyond the earthen dike were pitched row after row of tents, among which flew standards from poles, demarcating where soldiers from various lands were encamped.

Riding alongside Ruar, Rynna said, "I see most of the flags bear a golden griffin on a scarlet field."

" Tis Pellarion," replied the coron. "The High King's flag."

"Well, they greatly outnumber the others."

"As it should be," replied Ruar. "The remainder are but token forces, left here to show the unity of the Free Folk."

Riding at hand, Coron Eiron barked a laugh. At Rynna's inquiring look, he said, "I see that Lord Steward Voren has had the good sense to separate the Fjordlanders from the Jutlanders and from the Gelenders as well."

Rynna looked to where Eiron pointed: a blue-and-white streamer flew at one corner of the camp far to the right; while far to the left and diagonally across the whole of the ground flew a green, orange, and yellow banner; and entirely opposite at the third corner set a red, blue, and white flag.

Eiron shook his head. "Uneasy sits this truce, I would say."

"Truce?"

"Aye, for they are eld enemies but temporarily united against a common foe."

Ruar shook his head. "Humans."

Eiron cocked an eyebrow. "Forget not, Alor, we were once as mad as men."

Ruar reluctantly nodded, as across the encampment they rode.

They came to another wall, this one of stone and high, and once again were permitted entry through a warded gate, beyond which lay the city proper, with its cobblestone ways and buildings of stone and brick and tile, stucco and clay, most of which seemed to be joined to one another, though here and there were stand-alone structures. Narrow streets and alleyways twisted this way and that, the pave stones of variegated color. Shops occupied many first floors, with dwellings above. Glass windows displayed merchandise, the handiwork of crafters and artisans: milliners, coppersmiths, potters, jewelers, weavers, tanners, cobblers, coopers, clothiers, tailors, seamstresses, furniture makers, and the like.