‘Wooden walls, did you say?’ Brel shot a significant glance Garin’s way.
‘For now,’ Blethry said. ‘They’re working hard at replacing them with stone.’
‘Huh,’ Brel said. ‘We’ll see how far they get. I take it that your lords have worked out some sort of plan to bring this fortress down.’
‘They have. Gwerbret Ridvar’s calling in all his allies, and what’s more, Voran, one of the princes of the blood royal, is on hand with fifty of his men.’
‘Only fifty?’ Garin said.
‘At the moment. He’s sure his father will send reinforcements. The messages may have reached Dun Deverry by now, for all I know. I left Cengarn weeks ago. As for the Westfolk, Prince Daralanteriel’s keen to join the hunt.’
‘He should be,’ Brel said drily. ‘He stands to lose everything if the Horsekin move east.’
‘True spoken, of course. He’s promised us five hundred archers. Ridvar can muster at least that many riders.’
Brel winced. ‘Is that the biggest army you can put together?’
‘Until we hear from the high king.’
‘And how long will it take to get a full army up here from Dun Deverry?’ Brel went on and answered his own question. ‘Too long. With what you have, you’ll never take the place. You’ll have to lay siege and hope you can hold it.’
‘I know,’ Blethry said. ‘Till those reinforcements arrive from Dun Deverry.’
‘The Horsekin are likely to see a relieving force before you do. All it’ll take is one messenger to slip through your lines when you’re investing the fortress. If they’ve got a town up in the mountains, they doubtless keep a reserve force there. I hate the filthy murderers, but I’d never say they were stupid.’ Brel paused to pick a fragment of fried bat out of his grey-streaked beard. ‘So I wouldn’t plan on a siege. With us along, you won’t have to.’
‘Sir?’ Kov spoke up from his place on the floor. ‘What can we –’
‘Think, lad!’ Brel snapped. ‘This fort’s perched on the edge of a cliff.’
Kov suddenly grinned. ‘Tunnels,’ he said. ‘We’ve got sappers.’
‘They’re our main hope,’ Blethry said. ‘If the High Council allows you to join us.’
Brel snorted profoundly. ‘They will. There’s not a family in Lin Serr that didn’t lose someone in the last Horsekin war.’
‘Kov.’ Garin turned to his apprentice. ‘What do we owe Cengarn by treaty?’
‘Five hundred axemen, sir,’ Kov said, ‘and a hundred and fifty pikemen, along with provisions for all for forty days.’
‘Very good.’ Garin nodded at him, then glanced at Blethry. ‘Do you think the gwerbret will be offended if we replace those pikemen with sappers and miners?’
‘Huh! If he is, and I doubt that with all my heart, then Lord Oth and I will talk some sense into him.’
‘Good,’ Garin smiled briefly. ‘The council meets tomorrow morn. We should know by noon.’
On the morrow, Blethry woke at first light and spent an anxious hour or so pacing back and forth in his quarters. Every now and then he stuck his head out of the window and tried to judge how long he had to wait till noon came around. Well before then he heard a knock on the door. He flung it back to find Garin, stick raised to strike again, with young Kov behind him.
‘Ah, you’re awake!’ Garin said. ‘I thought you might be asleep still.’
‘Not likely, is it?’ Blethry said. ‘Well?’
‘The Council saw reason quickly, for a change,’ Garin said. ‘They’re organizing the muster now, and the army will march at dawn on the morrow. Five hundred axemen and a full contingent of sappers and miners with all their gear and the like. Oh, and provisions for twice forty days.’
‘Splendid!’ Blethry said, grinning. ‘And my thanks. I’ll go down and tell my men the good news.’
Kov slept little the night before the march out of Lin Serr. He packed up his gear, worried about what he might have left out, unpacked the lot, added things, took things away, then packed it all up again. Although he’d visited Cengarn several times, he’d never gone farther west than that city. He’d never seen a war, either. When he finally did fall asleep, he had troubled dreams of shouting and bloodshed.
Just before dawn, Garin woke him when he arrived to give him some final instructions. As well as his walking stick, the elder dwarf carried some long thing wrapped in cloth.
‘You’re not the apprentice any longer,’ Garin said. ‘You’re the envoy now. Remember your dignity, lad. Speak slowly, listen when you’re spoken to, and think before you answer. Follow those simple precepts, and you’ll do well.’
‘I hope so.’ Kov caught his breath with a gulp. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘I know you will. Now, you’ve got your father’s sword, I see, so here’s something to go with it.’
The long bundle turned out to be a staff, blackened and hard with age, carved with runes. Kov took it with both hands and turned it to study the twelve deep-graved symbols. He could recognize Rock and Gold as Mountain runes, and two others as Deverry letters, but he’d never seen the rest.
‘Do you know what those mean?’ Garin said.
‘Well, no.’
‘Neither does anyone else. They’re very old, but we do know that they once graced the door of Lin Rej.’
‘Lin Rej? The old city?’
‘The very one. It had carved wooden doors. When the Horsekin arrived, back in the Time of Death, they didn’t hold. The besiegers lit a fire in front of them, and when the doors burned through, they finished the job with axes. But one of our loremasters carved these runes here –’ Garin pointed at the staff ‘– on a scrap of wood so they’d be remembered. Over the years, they’ve been carved on other staffs, but this one came to me from my father’s father. It was a hundred years old when he received it as a child.’
‘It must be nearly a thousand now, then.’
‘Yes. There’s a superstitious legend about the runes, too. They’re supposed to contain a dweomer spell.’ Garin rolled his eyes heavenward. ‘Anything that’s no longer understood is supposed to contain a dweomer spell, of course. Don’t take it seriously.’
‘Oh, don’t worry! I won’t. But now I know why Lin Serr has steel on its doors.’
‘We may learn slowly, but in the end, we learn.’ Garin paused for a smile. ‘Now, spell or no spell, I’m letting you borrow that staff because I can’t go to the battle myself. We’ve never had a formal badge for our envoys, but you’re new on the job.’
‘Very new.’ Kov could hear his voice shake and coughed loudly to cover it.
‘Just so.’ Garin smiled at him. ‘So I decided you might need something to mark your standing and keep your spirits up. This staff’s never left the city since the day my father’s father brought it inside. Carry it proudly, and never shame it.’
‘I’m very grateful for the honour. I’ll do my best to live up to it.’
‘That’s all any man can do, eh? Now get on your way. There’s a mule for you to ride, by the by, down at the muster.’
Out in the meadow, five hundred dwarven axemen drew up in marching order, followed by a veritable parade of carts, each drawn by two burly menservants. The