Sten nodded and turned to make his way up and out from the vale, the man stepping softly as deep lamentation rose up all 'round.

"Over here," hissed Rynna.

Tip stepped to her side and looked where she pointed.

"I think this one is a Human," said Rynna, no longer flinching from the sight of those slain by the rage of the Stones.

Bones and organs shattered, blood oozing over ruptured flesh, a man lay dead among several Ghuls, the Foul Folk slain as well. Limp they lay, somewhat formless, like split bags of mush-filled skin. As to the man, he had been pale white with long white hair, and like all the other dead, he reeked of blood and feces and urine and vomit.

"A surrogate, I think," said Tip.

"Surrogate?"

"Someone whom Modru can possess. I think they are all without wit, and this gives Foul Modru a way to see and hear and speak. He commands his far-flung armies through the use of such empty men."

"Oh my," said Rynna, her hand flying to her mouth. "How dreadful."

On they went, continuing their count of those felled by the wrath of the Stones.

After a while Rynna said, "Madness."

"Madness?"

"Modru. Instead of such a hideous means, I would think he would choose those wise in the ways of war to lead his armies."

Tip shook his head. "I think he does not trust command to anyone but himself."

Rynna frowned, then said, "Either that, or he believes but for him all others to be fools."

Tip nodded and said, "Madness indeed."

"With your count and ours," said Tip, "if I've toted it right, some seven hundred Spawn did not escape this vale."

"Oh my," said Beau, looking back down into the valley from the ridge where they all now stood. "No wonder the Foul Folk fear the Groaning Stones."

Rynna spoke with Tynvyr, then turned to the others. "She tells me that never have so many been slaughtered by Eio Wa Suk, yet never before has a Stone died to kill a Spawn."

"How did he do it?" asked Beau. "-Grandsire, I mean. How did he manage to move at all? It isn't as if rocks or such can stir about under their own power."

Tears came into Rynna's eyes. "As to how he managed to move, that I cannot say, yet Eio Wa Suk are not ordinary rocks as you well can see."

"As I can see and hear," said Beau, the sad groaning rising up from the vale.

"Aye, and hear," agreed Rynna. "As to Grandsire, I believe he forfeited his own life to save those of the Pysks we were with; had we been alone, Beau, you and Tip and I, then perhaps he would yet be… alive. See here, I am not certain at all the Groaning Stones sense aught but Fox Riders and other Stones and the trembling of the land. Mayhap he knew of the Gargon by means other than its heavy tread, but I do believe he sensed the fear of the Pysks and thought them trapped, not knowing even as he pitched over, that we had broken free and were turning to run. Yet no matter the which of it, he is dead, the Gargon is dead, and the remaining Foul Folk are gone."

Tynvyr spoke to Farly, and he in turn said, "The Fox Riders will hold a funeral within a day or so."

"Not for the Foul Folk, I would hope," replied a Vana-durin man, striding up the slope toward them, a bloody axe in hand. Following came Sten, the Gargon's head on a spear.

"Nay, Thurl," said Linde. "They mourn the broken Stone, as we will mourn our own slain, though how we will bury them properly…" Linde's words trailed off, and she rubbed her fingers across her eyes, wiping away tears.

They stood without speaking for a moment, the sound of woe filling the air. Finally, Tip said, "What about the Spawn that got away? Shouldn't we gather the Dylvana and Baeron and lay them by the heels?"

Rynna shook her head. "The Dylvana and Baeron, most are not in Darda Erynian or Darda Stor: those of the Blackwood are struggling to free Crestan Pass, while Baeron of the Greatwood are at Drimmen-deeve, fighting to break the siege of that Dwarvenholt."

"The Lian from Darda Galion, then," said Tip, "can they not come?"

Rynna shook her head. "They struggle in the Grimwall and along the wold between there and the Argon River, as well as protect the borders of the Larkenwald. In the main, though, they strive to rid Drimmen-deeve of the besetting Swarm, but Modru's forces are formidable."

Beau blurted, "Both Crestan Pass and Drimmen-deeve are yet beset by the Riipt? Oh my, that was so more than a year agone… almost two, by now."

Tip looked about. "With the Dylvana elsewhere, who protects Darda Erynian?"

Rynna turned up her hands. "Why, we do."

"We?"

"The Hidden Ones and a handful of Warrows, along with the Dylvana and Baeron who were assigned to remain behind. But spread throughout this forest and the Greatwood as we are, a sparse few protect any given region. Even so, Spawn give us wide berth."

"The Gargon didn't," said Thurl, looking up at the head on the pike.

"Aye," agreed Rynna, "it did not."

"Why didn't it attack before?" asked Beau. "I mean, it seemed to have no fear of the Blackwood, so what kept it at bay?"

Rynna shook her head. "The Gargon, it was not here even a sevenday past."

Linde cocked an eyebrow, but remained silent.

"We make occasional scouting trips to see to the whereabouts of the Spawn," explained Rynna, "as we were doing this night." She reached out and took Tip's hand. "When last we went they were holding Eryn Ford, with no Gargon in sight."

Linde sighed. "Would that you had warned us of the numbers holding the ford. We would have crossed elsewhere: upriver most likely."

Farly shook his head. "We did not even know you were nigh. Oh, word came that a force of Vanadurin was circling 'round the north of Darda Erynian and down the eastern flank, but when you came to the Landover Road we lost track of your brigade. We thought you had turned easterly, through Riamon Gape."

Linde shook her head. "We struck southerly, taking the shortest way to the ford. Besides, tales of Blackwood are dire, and we were eager to ride well away from its eaves."

"Your mistake," said Farly.

Linde nodded morosely. "Aye, and nine hundred paid with their lives." Again she wiped her eyes, then said, " 'Neath green turves they need be honored, yet there are nine hundred slain and but ninety-seven of us, and Foul Folk yon stand across the way."

Rynna looked up at the warrior maiden. "In mounds would you bury them?"

As Linde canted her head in assent, Tip's thoughts returned to Mineholt North, to the Daelsmen's rites, for they too buried their dead in mounds.

Rynna spoke with Tynvyr some moments, and then said to Linde, "Fear not, for the Pysks will arrange all."

Linde frowned. "But how-?"

Rynna pushed forth a hand, palm out. "I did not question, yet I believe it will be done."

The faint light of the oncoming dawn began to illume the eastern sky. Rynna looked at the pale glow and said, "Come. We must get to a sheltered place, where wounds can be treated and all can rest and recover. 'Tis a new day, and much is yet to be done."

And so as the sky slowly brightened, they passed across the ridge and down into the forest beyond, while in the vale behind, huge Stones groaned a doleful dirge.

"Are we going to where the Springwater Warrows live?" asked Tip.

"In time," said Rynna, smiling. "But first we will stop at our bowers. There's someone I want you to meet."

"Bowers?" asked Beau, striding alongside.

"Aye, shelters at a place where we camp when on patrol.

This night-or rather this morn-you will stay with Farly or Nix, while Tip"-Rynna reached out and took his hand-"will stay with me."

"Oh, right," said Beau, looking sidewise at Tip and grinning.

"This someone you want me to meet," said Tip, "is it family? An uncle or aunt or some such?"