Trek to Kraggen-Cor (14 page)

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sky above. Ok What a dreadful omen, thought Perry, and he cast his eyes

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In the dusk, the waggon stopped in a thick pine forest—the last of the timberfme—and the comrades made camp on this e i gh t ee nth day of their

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The next morning came, and the compamons were awakened by Cotton to find it stJ dark; they were e nv/ i a pped in a dense, cold mist and could not see more than a few feet "1 don't know whether it's a fog that's climbed up from the bottom or a cloud that's shd down from the top," said Cotton, "but it's thick enough to cut doors and wmdows into, and maybe if we carved on it a bit we would let in some light It's soU dark, though f know it's time to be up and gone."

"It's dark beca u se the Sun is rising on the other side of the mountain and we are standing in its shadow," said Lord Kian "And this myrk makes it doubly dark Let us hope it gets no thicker—the way is hard enough as it is

without adding fog. There are many places ahead to go wrong—blind canyons, false trails, sudden precipices, blank walls, and such—and a cloaking mist we do not need. The way is before us, but I think I will not, cannot, find it til this shroud is gone."

"You forget, Lord Kian, you are with Chakka," spoke Borin Ironfist in rough pride, running his fingers through his black locks, unevenly combing out the sleep tangles, "and we trod this path on foot before—though backwards—on our way to fetch Perry. The fog is no obstacle. Were it pitch black, still could we go on, back the way we first came over this Mountain. Anval or I will lead this day til the way clears—by your leave."

"Your pardon, friend Borin"—Kian smiled—"I did indeed forget the Dwarf talent. It is new to me and wondrous. Lead on, my fellow wayfinder; here it is I who shall follow."

The road grew steep and narrow, with a sheer drop on one side and a towering wall on the other. The Warrows discovered that they and all of the party—except Anval, who drove the wain and worked the brakes—had to walk ahead of the waggon, leading the horses, for the way at times was so narrow that it was safer outside the waggon than in; further, by walking up the incline, thus lessening the load, they spared the steeds.

Slowly they made their way upward, stopping often to rest. Yet they moved surely through the fog, Borin leading, striding purposefully forward with his walking stave clicking against the stone path, confidently guiding the fellowship past hazards and false paths and up toward the notch of the Crestan Pass. The Warrows did not realize how sheer and far the drop-off beside the road fell until the midmorning Sun began to burn away the cold mist; shortly they could see, and soon the buccen were walking next to the wall as far away from the precipice as they could manage. And though the Sun had finally pierced the icy fog, the day had gotten colder, for now the comrades were up high on the mountain in the thin air; and they all donned extra wear.

It was in the midmorn that they stopped in a wide spot, and Kian instructed all the companions to take their backpacks and bedrolls from the waggon and strap them on. "We are coming to a dangerous part," explained the young Man, looking with keen grey eyes at the slopes above, "where the smallest sound of the wrong sort can start a rock slide or a snow avalanche. If that happens, the waggon may be swept away with all in it. If we survive, with our packs we can proceed onward to the Landover Road Ford with few problems; without them, the trip would be much harder; bear your burden with that thought in mind—though it won't make the knapsack lighter, it will ease the load." He turned to the Warrows. "From here you are to make as little sound as possible. Speak if you must only in a whisper. When we reach the other side and start down, most of the danger will be past. Til then, silence is the rule. Have you any questions? Speak now, it's your final chance."

"Do you mean to tell me that sounds can cause snow or rocks to fall?"

asked Cotton, peering at the solid stone wall of the mountainside with some skepticism. "Begging your pardon, but that sounds like Word from the Beyond, if you want my opinion." Cotton, like most Boskydell Warrows, had always looked at news from outside the Seven Dells as being peculiar and suspect; thus, the saying Word from the Beyond indicated something which may or may not be true—something hard to accept until proven.

"Aye, Waeran," answered Anval before others could speak. "But the rock or snow does not fall for just any sound. It must be the right sound. Did you ever see and hear a wineglass sing when someone nearby struck a note on a lute, or horn, or violin, or other musical instrument? Aye, I see you have. You can feel the glass ring in response to the note. Yet other notes do not seem to affect it. It must be the right sound, the right pitch, or nothing happens: the wineglass sits there without answering. And it is not only wineglasses that jing: some sounds cause windows to rattle, others make picture frames tilt, or dishes to clatter, pots and pans to clang, and hundreds of other things to tap and drum and jump around. We Chakka believe that each thing in this world will shake or rattle or fall or even shatter apart if just the right note is sounded on the right instrument. And here in the Mountains, where the snow hangs on high and the rocks poise on the slopes, at times, when the conditions are right, certain sounds seem to cause the stone or ice or snow to shiver just as does the wineglass, and the burden can break loose to cause ruin. It must be the right sound, though: a whipcrack or shrill voice or whistle or toot—any one may or may not start the avalanche. It may be something else, like a cough or whinny. The trouble is, we do not know what will start the fall, so we must be silent in all things."

Tuck and Cotton listened with growing amazement, not only at what was being said but also at who was saying it; for since leaving the 'Thorn-ringed Boskydells, but for a few rare occasions, Anval had been given to speaking only in short, terse sentences. And the Warrows had begun to think that Dwarves were about as loquacious as lumps of iron; and for either Anval or Borin to talk prolongedly had come to be a strange and rare event. The buccen could only believe that Anval thought it was important enough to speak at length so that they would understand the danger. And understand it they now did; the Mastercrafter's discourse had clearly shown them the need for silence, for they had indeed seen wineglasses sing and windows rattle at the sound of a viol or the boom of a drum. Again Cotton eyed the slopes above, this time with respect. "Mum's the word," he whispered and then made a buttoning motion on his lip, and Perry smiled and nodded without speaking.

Shouldering their packs, Lord Kian, the Warrows, and Borin went on ahead while Anval stayed back and drove the horses well to the rear. His place in line was by far the most dangerous, for the horses could not be instructed that "mum's the word.''

Slowly they made their way toward the Crestan Pass, a notch through a

saddle between two peaks of the Grimwall Mountains. They could see the cleft far above them silhouetted by the high morning Sun, whose light streamed through the col to glance off the rises overhead. The slopes were snow-covered, but here and there barren patches revealed a jumble of boulders, slabs, and jagged rocks balanced on the steep mountainsides. Quietly and cautiously they trudged toward the pass, making little or no sound. However, they could hear the horses' hooves calmly clip-clopprng behind them and the waggon wheels grinding iron rims on flat stone. Cotton kept glancing up at the menace looming above them, thinking, Please don't fall. Please don 'f fall on us or the waggon. I won't cough or sneeze, and you won't fall.

Finally, when the Sun was standing at zenith, they at last reached the brow of the pass, and the rule of silence was over. They ate a meal and rested for a while; the path had been steep and the climb arduous in the thin air—and the pause was most welcomed. Shortly, though, they had to start down; they had to reach the lower slopes before nightfall, for they could not stay up in the peaks after duskingtide: at this time of year the dark at these heights was too cruel and bitter; the hard passage had to be made during the Sun of a single day.

They began their descent down the eastern flanks, continuing to wear their packs and lead the team and light waggon. They had gone but a mile or so when the horses began to shy and skit and pull back, and seemed reluctant to go farther. Kian stopped the party and carefully scanned the upward slopes. "I can see nothing awry," he said, "but steeds are oft wiser than Men. We shall go forth, but in caution."

Once more they started along the steep, narrow way, walking downward, again on a path caught between stone wall and sheer precipice. To the north and south they could see but little, for the flanks of the mountains on either side of the route blocked the far view; but straight ahead to the east below they could see the Landover Road wending through the foothills and out over a stretch of plains to come at last to the Great Argon River, and run on beyond into the vast Greenhall Forest—Darda Erynian—now bedecked in bright fall foliage, whose far extent faded away beyond the silver haze in the remote distance.

They had gone another mile and were beginning to think that the skittish animals had perceived some false danger when both Brownie and Downy reared up, whinnying wildly, with nostrils flaring and blowing and eyes rolling til the whites showed in terror; they would have bolted but for Anval's strong arm. Lord Kian quickly stepped back and caught the bit reins to stop the horses from plunging. Cotton felt and heard a low rumbling from above and glanced up and saw the mountain move, its side sliding toward them. "Look!" he yelled and pointed, but the others had already seen the danger.

"There ahead! To the wall!" shouted Borin, leaping forward, racing toward a place where the looming mountainside partially overhung the path, provid-

ing shelter of a sort. As thick slabs and huge boulders and rocks large and small bounded and leapt and slid in a mighty avalanche toward them, the comrades ran for the concavity, with Anval driving and working the waggon brake and Kian, a bit strap in each hand, desperately pulling the rearing, plunging horses toward the cove. Even then all were being pelted by the small, round stones forerunning the vast slide, and at the last instant they lunged into shelter, Anval grabbing up his axe and pack and wildly leaping from the waggon and into the shallow depression just as a grey wall of rock sheeted down over the edge.

The ground shook and rumbled as pebbles and boulders alike cascaded down, so thick as to blot out the light, so close as to reach out and touch, racing with a speed that made them leap off the lip above and arch out over the path, some stones not striking the roadway at all in their rush to the depths below. But amid the thunder and roar, one great, thick, flat slab slowly slid down and momentarily teetered on the rim above. "Look out!" cried Perry, pointing at the giant mass, and they crowded back as far as they could.

The immense slab slowly toppled over the edge above and fell with a thunderous crash to crush the red waggon where it stood beyond the protection of the overhang; the great slab landed half on, half off the path, and slowly tilted on the edge of the precipice and began sliding over the brink, dragging the demolished waggon under it and hauling the steeds backward against their will, pulling them toward their doom. Borin leapt forward to add his strength to Anval's and Kian's to help the horses pull against the terrible weight slowly drawing them unto Death. The frightened animals at first lunged and lurched in terror at being dragged hindward, but then settled down to a hard, straining, steady pull when Cotton jumped forward and took the bit straps in hand. Perry, too, grabbed a hold and hauled with all his might along with the rest.

Tons of stone thundered past as the desperate struggle for life went on; but the giant weight gradually drew them all toward the rim; they were unable to check its ponderous drag. It seemed to pause, poised for a final plunge to carry the valiant steeds to their death below, when another great boulder slowly rolled over the edge above and dropped with an ear-splitting crack! onto the giant slab and then bounded on down the mountain. The waggon, though already crushed, was unable to stand more and burst asunder, releasing the slab and waggon bed to plunge over the precipice, while with a lurch the horses, Warrows, Dwarves, and Man stumbled forward into the hollow and to safety.

Cotton stroked the animals to calm them, and spoke to them even though he knew they could not hear him, for rock still thundered past. Finally the earth stopped shaking and shuddering as the slide slowly tailed off, trickling to an end with a few pebbles and an occasional rock rattling over the lip to fall below.

An immense silence beat upon their ears as they waited to see if the avalanche was truly ended. At last Borin stepped cautiously out, his boots scrutching loudly in the still. He eyed the mountain above. "It is now safe, I deem."