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Authors: 1932- Dennis L. McKiernan

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BOOK: Trek to Kraggen-Cor
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Slowly the others came out for a look. Perry walked through the talus to the edge of the path and carefully looked down to see where the vast quantity of stone had gone. Though he looked long, searching both down the precipice and mountain flanks below and up the slopes above, except for the rubble on the roadbed he could see no signs of the slide nor even of its passage; though to the companions the avalanche had been a momentous, desperate, life-or-death struggle, the great mountain had swallowed it up as if it were an unimportant event of minor consequence. Shaking his head in disbelief, Perry joined the others to help remove the waggon tongue from the horses' harness; it had been the only part of the wain to survive. They leaned the tongue against the mountain wall so that some passing waggoneer might salvage the beam and the whiffletrees, and then the comrades set forth once more.

"Where do slides come from?" quietly asked Perry as they continued on down. "I mean, well, the mountain has been here since the birth of Mithgar, ages and ages agone. It seems that all of the loose rock would have slid off by now."

Borin looked first at Anval then answered, his voice muted: 'The Mountains were here when the Chakka came, and they will be here when we are gone, but even the Mountains themselves grow old and die. The water from rain and melting snows seeps into the clefts and crevices; and when it freezes and turns into ice it splits the stone, delving it as surely as if it were Chak pick shattering it asunder. Over the years great quantities of rock are broken loose, and ultimately some sound or earth shudder causes it to slide to the margins below, and the Mountain is diminished with each rockfall. Just as we Chakka delve the inner cores of Mountains, so do the actions of the world mine their outer slopes. And it may be that after uncountable ages, even the mightiest of Mountains will be humbled by this stone cracking to become but a lowly foothill—though neither Man, Waeran, nor Chak will exist on Mitheor long enough to see that come to pass."

Perry felt privileged to be trusted with this glimpse of Dwarf lore from the Mastercrafter. The buccan knew that what Borin had revealed was true, and he looked at the mountain and was stunned with the knowledge that such a great towering peak would someday become just a tall hill, like Beacontor— and he was awed by the thought that Beacontor itself might once have been a towering peak when the world was young. And the incredible scale of time involved overwhelmed him—why, all of recorded history was but a moment when compared to the span of a mountain.

The companions walked downward all that afternoon and were well below the timberline when it came time to make camp. It had gotten dark early, for

the Sun was setting on the far side of the Grimwall, and they were in its shadow. Their last sight of the way below showed the Landover Road running eastward, waiting for them.

They set up camp in a thick pine grove, but had nothing to eat and no tea, for all their food had been carried over the edge by the avalanche.

CHAPTER 11 MARCH TO THE ARGON

"I don't mind telling you, Mister Perry," said Cotton, leading Downy along the Landover Road, "I sure hope that Lord Kian has some luck with that silver-handled bow of his. I'm so hungry I do believe I could have eaten some of the trees right out of the ground back there in the forest where we camped —or a pine cone or two at least." Anval grunted his agreement, for they all were ravenous—stomachs rumbling and complaining—having had nothing to eat since the noon meal up in the Crestan Pass; and now it was well into the midmorning of the day after.

They had arisen just before the Sun, appetites sharp-set, and Lord Kian had put forth a proposal: "I will take Brownie and ride on ahead. Down in the foothills below I'll stop at a likely spot and with my bow I'll try for some game. You follow on foot using Downy as a pack animal; rig the traces to carry our gear. Load everything on the horse except your weapons, we have come to the stage where it is better to become accustomed to going armed. If I leave now, with luck we should break our fast this forenoon."

In considering his plan, Lord Kian had known that the two Waerlinga had never ridden a full-grown horse, and that for some reason unknown to him the Dwarves would not ride even had they the skill. He had rejected the use of sledge or travois as essentially not being any faster than walking, and some time, though brief, would be lost in the construction. And by setting out now, the rendezvous with Durek could just be made if the pace was kept brisk and no more delays were encountered. He had considered riding on alone to meet Durek at Landover Road Ford to assure him that all was well, with the rest of the comrades arriving on foot later, but he rejected that plan,

for he knew to make that march without food would be an ordeal for the Waerlinga and the Dwarves.

Thus the companions settled on the scheme Lord Kian proposed, and he rode off alone with his bow. The others set off down the lower flanks of the mountain at a sharp pace, for as Lord Kian had explained, they had but two days remaining before the assembly sixty miles to the east.

The \\ arrows had discovered upon awakening that their muscles protested mightily at being moved, for their taxing climb up the far side of the mountain followed by the equally strenuous trek down the near side had worked little-used muscles to their limits. As Cotton said, "I'm as sore as a boil about to pop." But as they marched, the ache gradually subsided as the pain worked its way out.

And now they had come down to the foothills and were striding along the Landover Road, and it was midmorning, and Cotton was commiserating with Anval over the lack of food. Amid torturous groans of longing, they had begun describing various meals to one another: succulent roast pig and chestnuts; woodland grouse in golden honey sauce; fresh trout on a bed of mushrooms. . . . Cotton had just come to the point where he had Anval agreeing that for their next meal they would split between the two of them an entire full-grown spitted cow, when Borin, slightly in the lead, held up his hand for silence as the four of them rounded a curve.

Ahead they could see a thin wraith of smoke rising above the treetops. Borin spoke: "It cannot be a Grg fire, for the Sun is up, and in any case we are too far north for Squam. It could be a traveller, trader, or hunter, or woodsman, though it is late in the day for a breakfast fire but early for a midday meal. It may not be a cook fire at all. but an encampment instead. Be wary and speak not of our mission, for even innocent tongues if captured can betray our plans." With that admonition they again started eastward.

Soon they came to the vicinity of the smoke and found what appeared to be a small unattended fire with four rabbits roasting above it on green-branch spits. They were looking on in wolfish hunger when Lord Kian stepped forth from behind a broad tree trunk. "What ho, boon companions!" he called with exaggerated formality as he made a low sweeping bow, "won't you partake with me this fine repast 7 " and then he burst out laughing as his messmates scrambled to join him.

After the meal. Cotton fetched both horses from the grassy glade where they had been tethered to graze and led them as the fellowship walked together along the Landover Road, caught up in conversation. They had gone east nearly eight more miles when they came to a stone cottage that served the Baeron as a toll station and Passwarden house.

In days of old. the Baeron, a sturdy clan of stalwart Men. had kept the Crestan Pass and the Landover Road Ford and the road in between clear of Rucks and Hloks and other Spawn, and safe for travellers and merchants; for this service, the Baeron charged tolls. But after the fall of Modru, the Foul

TREK TO KRAGGEN-COR ~

Folk bved no longer in this region. The Baeron then took to keeping the rood through the Crestan Pass clear of landslides and rockfalls. and to helping wayfarers and then cargoes safely through the ford in the flood season; and they continued to charge tolls.

Each year a different family came from the Baeron Holds in Danfe Et-ynian to tend the Crestan Pass, arriving on April the first—a few weeks before the spring melt opened the col for travel—and returning to the Great GreenhaD Forest in autumn, when the high snows again closed the wa the winter. This year Baru was Passwarden, and he lived with his three tall sons in the wnaM ::::; cofc

The four Baeron were pleased to see Lord Kian and the two) Dwarves return over the pass, for Baru had wished them well when they had gone west through the gap toward the BoskvdeDs on their "King's business" a month and a week and a day agone. Glad though they were to once more greet the and the Dwarves, the passkeepers were amazed to meet Perry and Cotton, for they had never before seen Waldana, and the small Folk were creatures of legend to the Baeron—harking back to the ancient time of the derjahre when the Wee Folk had passed over the Argon on then journey west and south and west again, searching for a homeland

Travel was halted, and traveller and roadkeeper alike paused to pass the news over a pot of tea. The Baeron also provided the wayfarers with some delicious dark bread covered with spnng-cold butter that stuck to the ribs and filled up some hollow spots,

they took this meal together, Lord Kian told Baru of the rock slide in the pass, mentioning that now there was scree on the roadway. Baru nodded and poured more tea and passed more bread to the wayfarers, and he cocked an eye at his sons and they nodded back, realizing that a job needed doing up in the col.

en while Perry enjoyed the dnnk and tea-bread along with everyone eke, be noted that Baru and his sons treated Lord Kian with a deep and abiding respect, almos: m were then sovereign King. Curious, thought F

The Baeron Men seemed to know about the maggot-folk in deeve and the Dwarves' pledge, for they spoke of the Spawn raids and

al and Borin success in their venture. No fresh news had come to Bora from the south, which was not surprising, for most of his tidings came from travelling merchants faring to cross the Crestan Pass, and it was rare for anyone to attempt to go through this late in the year Though Baru had no news from the south, he asked that a message be earned to the marches: "Sire, should you meet with our kinsman, I rsor. quest," said Baru to Lord Kian. we ask that you tell him that ail is wel at home, and trust that his vengeance against the Wrg goes to his satisfaction." Perry reasoned that one of the Baeron was off fighting Dnmmen-deeve Spawn, seeking revenge for some deed committed by the

one of the raids; but before more was said, it was time to leave—time to continue on to the east.

"Well now, m'Lord," observed Baru, "all your supplies went over the edge with your waggon. We've not much, yet you're welcome to take what food you need to stretch over the next two or three days—til your rendezvous with King Durek."

"My thanks, Passwarden," responded Kian, knowing that Baru and his sons would require mostrof their own meager provisions to see them through until they were home again in Darda Erynian. The young Man hefted his bow. "I can fell enough small game to keep us in meat, but perhaps some crue or hardtack would go well—"

"And some tea, please," interjected Cotton, slurping the dregs of his and setting the cup to the table, popping one last bit of bread into his mouth.

Swiftly, Grau, the eldest son, gathered up the rations and handed them over to Cotton, who had stepped forward to take them.

And so they all stood and filed out of the cottage and into the bright sunshine, Cotton packing the fare into his knapsack. And while the comrades made ready, Baru and his sons also prepared to go, to hike up into the pass to clear away the rubble from the slide.

As the travellers stepped out onto the road, Rolf, the middle son, approached Anval and respectfully said, "Sir Dwarf, you must advise Durek to hurry if he is to go over the mountain, for winter comes early in the high peaks; the frost is now with us down here, which means that the first snow will soon block the Crestan Pass." Anval nodded curtly, and then all the companions said farewell and set off again for the far rendezvous.

They started down the Road with Perry's thoughts still dwelling on these Men. Though the visit had been short, Perry had concluded that the Baeron would make good comrades in time of need. The buccan also reflected on the curious, deferential way the passkeepers had treated Kian, but before Perry could ask the young Lord as to the reason, the Daelsman had taken up his bow and remounted Brownie and galloped away to seek their supper.

The rest of the comrades marched swiftly throughout the day, and in the dusk an hour after sundown they once more came to where Lord Kian was encamped. Again he had been skillful with his bow, having downed a brace of grouse and three more rabbits.

Cotton tethered Brownie and Downy out in the rich grass of the wold and watched them as they began to eagerly crop their first substantial meal since noon of the previous day, for all of their grain had been swept away by the rockslide. Satisfied, the buccan returned to the campsite, his stomach rumbling, for the aroma of game on the spit filled the air.

The companions had covered some thirty-one miles that day, and had emerged from the foothills and were well out upon the open plains—twenty-nine miles from the Argon River ford crossing. The Warrows were bone-weary, unaccustomed as they were to climbing over a mountain on one day

and forcing march all the next; but though they were tired, they fell to the meal with a voracity that would have done a lion proud. Shortly they were sound asleep, and Kian, Anval, and Borin let the buccen slumber the night through without waking them to stand their turns at guard—much to the vexation of the Warrows the next morning.

All day the comrades advanced across plains that gradually fell into the valley of the Argon. Perry and Cotton and Anval and Borin tramped through a land of heather and grasses, with only an occasional hill to break the monotony of the flat, featureless country. Now and again they would flush a pheasant or covey of birds from beside the road, or surprise a fox trotting across their way, but for the most part they marched without interruption on flat, open prairie, silent except for the sigh of the chill wind that swept from the mountains and rippled low through the tall grass. Again, Kian on Brownie ranged ahead with his bow, providing meat to go with the tea and hardtack given to them by Baru. In this fashion they came to where they could see on the horizon the four-mile-wide belt of trees lining the Argon River; and they knew their journey would soon come to an end.

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