"Because," interjected Tip, "were it made wider, it likely would become a well-known route. This way the Dwarves keep it hidden. Besides, if they were being pursued, here just one Dwarf could hold off an army of foe." "Oh," said Beau, enlightened, as on down the slope they fared, the path now heading down the opposite side, though crags and bluffs and massifs stood in the way of Valon.

As the day grew toward evening and they took up the trek again, Beau's eyes widened. "I say, Tip, I just thought of something."

Tip looked at Beau, a question in his eyes.

"Just this," said Beau. "Dwarves are not men."

Tip frowned. "And…?"

"Don't you see: 'Seek the aid of those not men,' she said, did Rael, 'to quench the fires of war.' Well, we were aided by the Dwarves-Dwarves who are not men. Perhaps their aid will mean the quenching of the fires of war."

Now Tip's own eyes widened at the thought. "But Beau, that assumes the rede she spoke was meant for us, and I don't see how that can be."

"I don't see how it can be, either, bucco, but let's keep it in mind just in case. Remember, a small event in one place can cause great catastrophe in another; all things are somehow connected, you know."

Tip shook his head but made no reply as onward they pressed down the way.

Down they strode and down, and came to a place where at last they could see out across the land ahead, out where a vast grassy plain swept to the horizon and beyond. Yet Tip gasped in dismay, for in the far distance a pall of black smoke curled into the afternoon sky.

Upon Valon burned War.

They reached the eastern foot of the Walkover just as the waning half-moon rose, shining her argent light aglance across the tall grass of Valon.

"We'll camp here among the concealing crags, then set out on the morrow," said Loric, unbuckling his backpack.

"But what about the smoke we saw, the fire out there on the plains?" asked Beau. "I mean, shouldn't we go see if anyone needs our help?"

Loric glanced at Phais, then shook his head. "I deem we look upon another Stede, another Annory, Sir- Beau. 'Twas entirely too late when first we espied the burning."

Tip nodded glumly. "Besides, it's another good twenty or so miles to the site, and even if we went straightaway without any rest, still we wouldn't get there till late in the morning, perhaps at the noontide."

"Oh, my," said Beau dejectedly. "I was hoping it was closer… in miles as well as time. But to walk all night and not get there till noon, well, to tell the truth, I don't think I can go on without a bit of a lull. I mean, it isn't every day that I've gone climbing with a pack on my back up over the Gunarring and down again."

" 'Tis more or less on our path, Beau," said Phais, "and so the morrow should bring us to what burns upon the plain. But for now thou art right: 'tis rest we need."

Tip set his pack to the ground and sighed in relief, then looked back at the Gunarring. "Will it ever get any easier? This walking about, I mean."

Loric nodded "The farther we walk, the easier 'twill be, for our packs will fare lighter as the food dwindles. Our strength and endurance will grow as we cross the plains unto Darda Galion."

Beau groaned. "Oh, surely we aren't going to have to walk all the way to the Eldwood. I mean, there must be some place we can purchase horses… or ponies."

Kneeling at her backpack and untying the thongs on her bedroll, Phais sighed. "With war upon the land, who can say?"

Tip looked across at the Dara. "How soon will we reach the Eldwood if we go on foot all the way?"

Phais cocked an eyebrow at Loric. "If we tarry not," he replied, "a fortnight and some should see us there."

"A fortnight? fourteen days?"

"Aye. 'Tis nearly a hundred leagues."

"Three hundred miles?"

"Aye, three hundred miles, Tipperton. And can we walk seven leagues a day, then a fortnight 'twill be."

Tip groaned. "Twenty-one miles a day for fourteen days-oh, my aching feet."

Beau snorted and said, "Huah, Tip, compared to our slip-sliding on ice most of the way through Drearwood, this little jaunt to the Eldwood will be a lark. I mean, what could be better than walking on soft sod across a grassy plain? Besides, bucco, you've got to remember, given the choices we faced, this is the quickest way."

Tip cast his friend a skeptical eye, but did not respond as he groaned to his feet preparatory to standing the first short turn at watch.

Just after dawn they set out northeastward across the rolling plains of Valon, the prairie covered with tall grass as far as the eye could see. Though the grass itself came to midthigh on the Elves, it was chest high on the Warrows, and it rippled in long green waves, stirred by a morning breeze blowing down from the Gunarring behind. Far across the rolling land, a thin smudge of smoke yet stained the sky, drifting up and eastward, driven by the breeze as well. And toward the unseen origin of this smear they trod.

"What if it is a town like Annory-burnt, destroyed with a passle of maggot-folk camped therein?" asked Beau. "What'11 we do, the four of us?"

Phais sighed. "Pass it by."

"You mean just leave them alone?" asked Tip.

Phais nodded. "Aye. Most likely they will be too many and we too few."

Tip growled. "But the Dwarves attacked nineteen foe, and they were only five."

Loric shook his head in resignation. "The Drimma are a fierce race, where honor stands well above prudence. Aye, they attacked nineteen head-on, with axes swinging, depending on surprise and brute force to quickly carry the day. Yet were we faced with the same odds, I would hope that we would use stealth and cunning and guile to accomplish the same ends. Yet heed: stealth and cunning and guile take time, and should we come across a large number of foe, would we soon accomplish this mission to Agron, then we must pass them by."

Tip frowned, and Phais, noting his look, said, "Tipper-ton, if we are to engage every foe 'tween here and Dendor in Aven, then I suspect it will be many a year ere we see Agron King."

"Even so," added Loric, " 'tis meet we gather knowledge of the foe along the way, and pass on such particulars to those who need to know."

"Somewhat like scouts?" asked Beau. "-I mean, as long as we don't stray too far from our mission to Agron in Aven, that is."

"Exactly so," replied Loric, smiling down at the buccan.

And across the plains of Valon they went, toward drifting smoke afar, while in the distant sky above, birds circled and spiraled down.

"Ssst!" hissed Loric just as they reached the crest of a rise. "Down!"

They dove into the grass. "What?" whispered Tip. "What is it?"

"Horses," breathed the Alor, unbuckling his pack and drawing his sword. Phais nodded in affirmation and pulled her blade as well and slipped free from her pack.

Beau, lying prone, put his ear to the ground. His eyes widened and he motioned for Tip to do the same. And Tip's own eyes widened as he heard the thudding of many hooves knelling within the soil. He raised his head slightly. "What if they're friends?" he asked.

"What if they're foes?" whispered Beau right after.

Phais said, "Friends we'll hail; foes we will not."' Then she put her finger to her lips and signaled for quiet.

But Beau sucked in a deep breath and then hissed, "Oh, my, what if they're Ghflls on Helsteeds?"

Remaining hidden down within the rippling green, Tipperton wriggled free from his pack and set an arrow to string. Beau likewise shed his own pack and laded his sling.

Now even without an ear to the ground the buccen could hear the hammer of hooves, and Tipperton lifted up just enough to peer outward through swaying heads of grass.

From the north they came, rounding the flank of a low hill, a cavalcade of riders-men on horses, thirty or more-and running alongside were men afoot, twice as many as the riders, it seemed, and all bearing spears. Dark and swarthy were the riders and dressed in turbans and long, flowing robes, with curved swords slung loosely at their sides; the men afoot were even darker, nearly black, and wearing nought but short belted skirts 'round their waists, their feet shod in sandals, their long hair gathered and held behind by tortoise-shell clasps; and on their bodies a sheen of sweat glistened.