Trek to Kraggen-Cor (17 page)

"Kingdom?" burst out Cotton, who had been listening with interest to Rand's words. "What Kingdom? What Throne?"

"Why, the Throne of North Riamon, of course," answered Rand, looking in amazement at the astonished young buccan. "Prince Kian, my brother, is to be its next King."

As rank after rank of Dwarves marched up out of the shallows and onward to the far edge of the border-forest to make camp for the day. the two W arrows looked with amazement at Lord Kian. It had not occurred to them to question why he was called "Lord," though they knew that it was a title of nobility; and now they discovered that he was not a '"Lord" at all, but rather a Prince! Nay. not just a Prince, but a King-to-be! Perry at last understood why Passwarden Baru had treated Kian with such deference, for the Kingdom of North Riamon extended from the Grimwall Mountains in the west to the Land of Gana beyond the Iron water River in the east, and from Aven over the Rimmen Mountains in the north to Larkenwald and the Greatwood in the south. The Holds of the Baeron lay near the center of this region, being in the middle-woods of Darda Eryman; and though these Baeron Men swore fealty to a Chieftain, he in turn pledged to the King of North Riamon. Thus, Baru and his sons had been speaking to their Liege Lord and future King when they had spoken to Kian. To think, all this time the \\arrows had been travelling with, camping with, eating and drinking with, dueling with, and even scolding the next King of Riamon'

And in that long moment while the W arrows looked on in wonder, Kian seemed to take on a majesty: proud and tall, resolute and commanding. As Perry stood gaping. Cotton awkwardly—for \\ arrows know little of court manners—started to kneel before Lord Kian, but the Prince quickly stepped forward and raised him up "Nay. Cotton, kneel not to me." enjoined the Man, "for the Waerlinga have knelt to no Sovereign for more than four thousand years—not since the Great War " Lord Kian then smiled and placed a hand on the shoulder of each buccan and said, "It changes nothing between us; just because one day I am to sit in a high seat, there shall be no bar between us We are the same as we always have been, each of us growing and changing as circumstance and reason dictate, yet always around a central core of thoughts and ethics that makes you what you are and me what I am. Do not let a Kingship strip me of my friends."

Perry looked long at Kian and then took his hand and said, "A Kingship strip you of your friends 7 It cannot happen, for there is great strength in friendship, and it takes more than a mere change in station to put it aside or burst it asunder. Though you were the High King himself in Pellar, still would we be friends, for there is no more lasting a thing than the noble bond between boon companions; and this even a King must acknowledge."

"Besides," chimed in Cotton, recovering from his shock, "even a King —or for that matter a King-to-be—needs a couple of folks about who can keep him busy with something to do, like singing some rousing songs, or whacking away at each other with wooden swords; otherwise all he'd get to do is sign orders and issue edicts and inspect the army Of course, even now and again we could jump into a flood and let you rescue us." The> all laughed at

Cotton's words, and smiling, turned to watch the crossing as the Dwarves continued to march by.

File after file of the forked-bearded Folk tramped past, each in a shirt of linked steel ringlets, each with an axe, each helmed with a steel cap; they made a formidable host. Dispersed along the train came trundling hued waggons bearing supplies. And occasionally, at this side of the column or that, another Valonian scout crossed; they were flank riders, drawn in for the crossing. Rand informed the companions that there were nearly four thousand one hundred warriors in the Dwarf army, and forty riders of the Valanreach—the scouts of Valon—as well as five hundred horse-drawn wains of supplies. And as they came up and out of the ford, every rider and Dwarf in the throng looked curiously at the Wee Folk, for only a few in that entire Legion had ever seen a Waeran—in the Weiunwood or Stonehill—but none had ever seen an armed or armored Waeran before, much less two of them.

"Where's this Deathbreaker Durek?" asked Cotton, peering at the marching column.

"He shall come last," announced Borin with flat certainty, his statement confirmed by a grunt from Anval and a nod from Rand. "In battle heshall be the first to the danger, but in travel he shall be the last to the comfort."

It took almost two full hours for all the Dwarves and supply waggons to cross over, but at last the comrades saw the end of the column; and bringing up the very rear was Durek. He had gone down the line from head to tail as the march across the river began, speaking to his warriors, saying a word here and giving a nod there. And when he had reached the end of the long column he simply had turned about and brought up the rear. At last he crossed the river and came to the near shore; and he stopped and looked up on the bank at Anval and Borin, Kian and Rand, and lastly at Perry and Cotton. "Hah!" he barked in a rough, gravelly voice, "if only we had some Elves, Utruni Stone Giants, and a Wizard or two from Xian, we could resurrect the Grand Alliance of old."

As Anval and Borin stepped down to greet their King, Perry and Cotton saw before them a Dwarf slightly shorter than Anval or Borin, but one with an air of command and presence unmatched by the others. His hair and forked beard were black, but shot through with silver. His eyes were an arresting dark, dark grey. He was arrayed in black and grey and silver: grey cloak over black mail; the armor was embellished with five silver studs arranged in a circlet upon his chest; grey jerkin and breeks and black boots he wore, and a silver belt was fastened around his waist, and his cloak was clasped with a silver brooch; under one arm he held a black helm; and, as with the entire Dwarf army, he was armed with an axe scribed with black-metal runes—yet his was an axe with a silveron-edged blade.

Borin presented the Warrows, and after greeting them and Lord Kian and acknowledging Rand's presence, Durek stated, "There is more here than meets the eye: I send you on a mission to gather knowledge of the ways in

Kraggen-cor, and you return with Waerans arrayed for battle." He scowled. "A tale lurks here for the telling, but first I must see that the Host is encamped for a day's rest, then we shall meet with my Captains and decide our course." And as the last of the Valonian riders—the rear scouts—rode across the river, Durek strode off to see to the Host-camp and to alert the Captains to the upcoming council, and Anval and Borin accompanied their King to speak of the mission to the Boskydells.

Rand led Kian and the Warrows to one of the cook-wains where food had been prepared, and along with many Dwarves they soon were digging into a hearty breakfast. While eating, Rand explained the Dwarf waggons to the others: "Most of them carry food. Some haul medicine and bandages. Certain ones carry hammers and tongs and forges and lanterns and other tools, and stores of firecoke and metal and wood. A few carry clothing and extra blankets, while others haul armor and extra axes—your sword and mail are in one of these, Kian. Each waggon is colored so that its hue tells what cargo is inside: green for food, white for hospital supplies, red for armor and axes, yellow for cook-waggons, blue for clothing, and black for forges and tools. On the march each color is spaced evenly among the main body of troops so that food or equipage or medicine or any other cargo is at the head, and middle, as well as at the rear of the column; thus, no type of provision is more than a few paces away from any warrior in the force. And there are nearly five hundred waggons of supplies, for this Army of four thousand must be self-sufficient for many weeks; the goal is distant and the march long. Durek has arranged with the Dwarves of the Red Caverns to be restocked from that Dwarvenholt when the waggon goods near exhaustion—but that should be well after the issue of Drimmen-deeve is decided."

After breakfast, Perry and Cotton returned to their campfire to laze around and catnap awhile, for their sleep had been interrupted with the arrival of the Dwarves, and they were yet tired from their trek over the mountains and forced march to the river. But later that morning they fashioned two swords from young alders, and Rand found them engaged in a hard-fought duel when he came to fetch them for the noon meal. He watched for a while, now and again calling out encouragement during Heches and lunges, or shouting approval at successful ripostes or when a touch was scored.

"My brother said you were becoming good swordthanes," remarked Rand as they walked toward the nearest yellow waggon, "and I now see he was right." The Warrows glowed with the praise.

The trio ate lunch, then strolled through the encampment. Everywhere, they found Dwarves sitting cross-legged on the earth industriously oiling their chain-link shirts and wiping down their double-bitted axes to prevent the formation of rust caused by the wetness of the river crossing. The Dwarves at times stopped the Warrows to finger Perry's silveron armor and to remark upon the fine crafting of Cotton's gilded mail. Several spoke to Rand, but for

the most part they simply glanced up while continuing to treat their armor. While the three were sauntering thus, they were overtaken by a Dwarf runner: "King Durek sends his greetings and bids that you now attend the Council of Captains in the camp of Anval and Borin where the road joins the river."

Thus it was that when Perry and Cotton and Rand hurried back to camp, they found Durek and all his Captains sitting in a large circle, four deep, waiting for the two Warrows and the Realmsman to appear. Lord Kian and Anval and Borin were already there as well as Brytta, Captain of the Vanadurin. A spot to Durek's right was open for the trio. As soon as they had taken their place in the circle, Durek stood and spoke, his voice raspy yet clear:

"Captains, we are here to plan our attack upon the usurping Squam who defile our Kraggen-cor. It is now that I must decide whether we issue into our ancient Realm from the west, the Dusken Door, or from the east, Daun Gate, or perhaps both, for we stand at a fork in the Unknown Cavern: we can march west over the Crestan Pass and south aflank the Mountains to the Dusken Door; or we can tramp along the Argon south and come to Kraggen-cor up the slope of Baralan. The choice is a hard one—hard as flint—for the two ways into our ancient home lie upon opposite sides of the Grimwall. If one way is wrong and the other way right, and if I err when I choose, then to correct the mistake we will have to march an extra eight hundred miles in all: four hundred miles south to Gunarring Gap and four hundred miles back up the other side, for it will be winter and I deem the pass over the Mountains at Kraggen-cor will be blocked with snow when first we come to the Quadran.

"Upon the chosen route depends the course of the War—and the fates of us all. Hence, we must plan and plan well, and try to divine what may befall us by either approach.

"Here among us to help with this hard choice are three you already know: Prince Kian, who guided Anval and Borin Ironfist to Pellar and back, and then west to seek knowledge of the ways in Kraggen-cor; Prince Rand, who has guided us and advised us on our journey here, and who stands ready to continue on to the caverns; and Brytta of Valon, Marshal of the North Reach, and Captain of the Harlingar, who are the wide-ranging eyes of this army. There are also two here you do not know: Two Waerans—Masters Peregrin Fairhill and Cotton Buckleburr of the Boskydells, western Land of legendary heroes, who stand ready to guide us through the passages of our ancient homeland."

A low murmur broke out among the Captains at this last statement: Waerans guide Dwarves? In Kraggen-cor?

Durek held up his hand for silence, then continued: "It is a long tale that has brought us to this place, a tale rooted in the past yet growing through the present toward the future. Some of you have heard parts of this story, others

have heard other parts; none of us has heard it all. But now, I propose we hear the whole of it ere I seek vour counsel, for the decision I must make is one to be made in the fullest knowledge available."

Durek called first upon Lord Kian, who spoke of the journey to Pellar and King Darion, telling in full about the outbreak of the Spaunen raids under the new Yrm leader. Gnar the Cruel. He recounted the pledge of Anval and Bonn, in Durek's name, to eliminate the Spawn and reoccupy Drimmen-deeve. Then Kian told of the trip to the Boskydells to seek The Raven Book and to glean from it whatever detail of Drimmen-deeve it held. He related that the knowledge had been found, telling of Pern's offer to guide the Dwarves through the caverns. He then spoke briefly of the return journey, barely mentioning the sword training, the flood, and the avalanche—much to Cotton's disappointment, for the buccan would have made a very long, thrilling tale out of their two narrow escapes. Lord Kian was interrupted only twice during his narration: once when a Captain wanted to verify that King Darion had called off his planned siege of Kraggen-cor in order to give the Dwarves the element of surprise; and once more when Durek asked about the condition of the Crestan Pass. At the end of the tale Lord Kian resumed his seat.

Durek then asked Anval and Borin if there was aught they would add. After a long silence Anval stood and announced, "We Ironfists have named both Waerans Chdk-Sol fDwarf-Friend;. " Then he sat down amid a hubbub of surprised conversation among the Dwarf Captains.

Durek held up his hand, and when silence fell he said to Pern- and Cotton, "You have each been named Chdk-Sol before the Council of Captains. So it was said; so shall it be." And Durek called a herald to the Council circle and proclaimed, "Let all the Host know that henceforth Peregrin Fairhill and Cotton Buckleburr, Waerans of the Boskydells, are each Chdk-Sol. 1, Durek, King of the Host, declare it so."

Again the Council circle was filled with a low murmur, with the somber Dwarvish scowls of most Captains being replaced by brief smiles and curt nods to the \\arrows. Though neither Perry nor Cotton knew it, to be named Dwarf-Fnend was a signal honor shared by a rare few in past ages, and it was tantamount to being adopted as Dwarf-kith. It meant that the \\arrows were privy to the secrets, councils, and counsels of all Dwarves of Durek's Kin.