Chapter 5

T hey left Ferrymore on the path by which they had arrived. They were well rested, well fed, and ready to get well underway. They all had much on their minds, so they rode in silence as they approached the edge of the marsh. When they reached the swamp they halted to decide on a course.
      ‘We have lost more time than I had planned,’ Raavan observed looking up through a shading hand at the position of the sun in the afternoon sky. Islands of white cloud were spread out flat and sparse across the firmament, but the westering sun shone brightly from the seas of blue between.
      ‘Have we time enough to reach the grasslands?’ Talen asked the wizard.
      ‘That will depend on which path we take,’ answered Raavan. ‘If we follow our trail from this morning we should be able to make the journey during the several hours of daylight that remain. Unfortunately, that will lead us to the northern edge of the fens and we will then waste time travelling around them to resume our southward course.’
      The old man weighed the options carefully, but neither seemed to inspire him greatly. Minutes passed.
      Finally he spoke: ‘I think we will chance the southern route. It is a bit of a stretch in the time that we have left, but I am getting very anxious to arrive at this journey’s end. We will just have to be careful not to lose any more time along the way.’
      ‘But you do think there’s a chance we won’t make it out of the fens before dark,’ said Dannadar with some concern.
      ‘Possibly,’ replied the wizard. ‘But I think we are going to have to take the risk. I am feeling the need to confer with my colleagues in Arenya sooner rather than later, and I fear I have let our pace slacken overmuch. Let us keep the pace up and see how far we are able to go. If we are not out of the marsh by sunset we will have to decide what to do then. Depending on the condition of the trail we may just decide to push on after dark. I have camped in the fens before and it is generally rather uncomfortable, to say the least. In any event, let us move quickly now and with luck we may not have to worry about it either way.’
      And so they rode on through the fens, going rather more quickly now, trotting whenever possible and once or twice even breaking into a brief canter. The trail was indeed in relatively good condition and they were able to make good time without getting overly careless.
      They passed the afternoon pleasantly enough, for the sun shone much of the time and the marsh was actually quite pretty in spring. The many flowers and birds provided innumerable sights, sounds, and smells. These, as well as the doings of the other water denizens, they observed with hurried interest as they went quickly past. Thus, the company were in high spirits, for the going was easy, and they became increasingly confident they would sleep that night on the soft, springy grass of southern Aresse.
      It was only a few hours, however, before their progress began to slow, for they were now passing through parts of the swamp where the water tended to be higher and the trail more difficult to follow. Several times they were compelled to stop and retrace their steps, having reached a watery impasse. These delayed them considerably.
      ‘You seemed much more confident this morning, Raavan,’ noted Falco at one of these turnabouts. ‘Do you not know this part of the swamp?’
      ‘It is difficult to know any part of the Glassie Fens well,’ Raavan replied, ‘—for very long, anyway. Things shift from year to year. The trick is to be able to pick out a series of drier areas that make up a continuous trail. Experience helps, but even experience is no match for the spring rains. Many of the streams of southern Aresse find their way into the lower fens, and those tend to run high at this time of year.’
      ‘What if there is no way out?’ asked Fifin.
      ‘Then we shall wander around until a way forms,’ replied the wizard. ‘The trail cannot stay submerged forever. Eventually all of this water will flow slowly into the Firthorwald, and thence into the sea.’
      ‘But that may take weeks!’ exclaimed Talen.
      ‘Yes, and so of course I was not serious when I said we would wait for a path to form,’ said Raavan. ‘I am sure there are paths that will take us where we want to go, but there may be fewer of them than I had originally expected. If we just keep searching by trial and error we are bound to come out eventually. Unfortunately, we have quite a ways yet to go and already I see evening is coming on, so let us make less talk and more haste, and with luck we may still find our way before it is fully dark.’
      With that they went on, though their luck did not show any sign of improving, for they continued to encounter dead ends and the Elflings began to doubt that they were making much progress at all. Dusk found them wandering about still well within the fens and soon night was upon them. Yet they went on, for they had all made up their minds that they would emerge from the swamp that evening, and the deceitful, shifting marshlands had not yet broken their resolve.
      As the final traces of sunset faded from the sky it became virtually impossible to navigate safely for lack of light. At this point Raavan bade Talen bring out his glowing crystal sphere, that he might use it to illumine the way. Talen handed it over to the wizard, who found it just adequate for showing the path ahead. ‘Just what we needed,’ said the old man, holding the glowing orb aloft. In this way the wizard led them long into the night, trailing one after another as they followed the shining ball that promised to lead them all to safety. ‘Rather like a great star, it is,’ thought a sleepy Talen, ‘held up in the night sky as if by the hand of some celestial giant.’
      The hours passed, yet on they went and they all became very sleepy indeed. After a time they became slowly aware that there were other points of light out in the swamp, twinkling little gems that seemed to hang in the very air over the water. ‘Not stars,’ thought Talen. ‘They must be fireflies. That’s better than mosquitoes, at least.’ Raavan took no heed of the twinkling lights, for he had seen them on many occasions and the tedious task of navigating in the dark required all of his attention.
      At the back of the train Fifin and Dannadar were yawning almost continuously. Their drooping eyelids told them it was time to go to sleep, but every time they fell shut they were forced open again by a determined Elfling. ‘I can stay awake,’ Dannadar said repeatedly to himself as his eyelids fluttered and blinked, this causing the shining crystal in Raavan’s hand to twinkle like a distant star. Now Dannadar could hear Fifin behind him speaking utter nonsense: ‘I know which one to follow, Sir. Yes, I can see it quite clearly now.’
      ‘Who are you talking to, Fif?’ Dannadar asked, turning in time to see his cousin not only starting to fall behind but also straying off the side of the path. ‘Fifin!’ he called weakly as he turned back to retrieve the errant Elfling. He did not however tell Falco who rode just ahead of him to wait for them to catch up, and because Falco was teetering on the edge of slumber himself he did not hear Dannadar’s call to Fifin nor think to check whether they still followed close behind.
      It was not until the main party encountered another dead end that the absence of the two cousins was finally noticed. ‘This is not good, not good at all,’ said the wizard upon discovering the loss of Dannadar and Fifin. ‘The lot of us being lost together is one thing, but lost separately could be far worse.’
      Doing his best to rouse Talen and Falco from the verge of sleep Raavan led them back along the path they had been following, searching with the glowing orb and calling out the names of the missing pair.
      ‘Dannadar! Fifin!’ they called out, but there was no response. Again and again they called to them as they wandered back along the trail, till they were no longer sure they had not passed the missing Elflings on some side path along the way.
      ‘We shall never find them!’ Talen despaired.
      ‘Yes, we will,’ said Raavan.
      ‘In this darkness?’ said Falco. ‘I do not see how! They could easily be off on any one of these dark side ways, just beyond the reach of the orb-light.’
      ‘Then we shall search for them where the light does not reach,’ said Raavan. The Elflings looked to the wizard for elaboration, but he was busy whispering into Airi’s auriculars. In a moment the bird leapt from Raavan’s shoulder and silently beat his broad wings till he was completely swallowed up by the darkness.
      ‘What was that all about?’ Falco asked the wizard.
      ‘Airi can see in the dark,’ replied Raavan, ‘—much better than we can, even with the orb. If Dannadar and Fifin are anywhere nearby Airi will find them.’
      ‘Are we to just wait, then?’ asked Talen.
      ‘There is no sense blundering about in the darkness,’ said Raavan. ‘Let us wait here till Airi returns. If an owl cannot hunt them down in the dark then we certainly shan’t.’
      And so they waited. Anxious though they were, they were sleepier still, and the Elflings had drifted in and out of sleep several times before they were awaken once again by Raavan.
      ‘This way! Airi has found them!’ urged the wizard as he led them back along the trail. Even Raavan was anxious to find the lost Elflings, yet he led Falco and Talen slowly and with great care, not only because of the darkness but also because he knew that they were all very weary, the ponies included, making missteps all the more likely.
      As they rode slowly along they could hear the low hooting of an owl off in the distance. The hooting became louder with time and Talen surmised that it was Airi’s voice which Raavan was following.
      Eventually they arrived at the edge of a muddy, murky pool. Raavan was peering out into the middle of the expanse and the Elflings followed suit. After a moment they were able to discern the shape of an owl at the very edge of sight.
      ‘I see Airi!’ exclaimed Falco. ‘But what is that lump he is perched on?’
      ‘And where are Dannadar and Fifin?’ asked Talen.
      ‘Unless I am mistaken, that is a pony that Airi is perched upon,’ said Raavan. After much straining they saw that it was indeed so; the owl was perched on the back of a pony which appeared to be rather deeply mired in an oozy mud. They then found Fifin nearby, also mired quite deeply and no longer even struggling to free himself.
      ‘Fifin!’ they called to him. ‘Are you all right?’
      Very faintly they could hear his reply. Though he was not in fact very far away from them, so weary was he that his feeble calls sounded as though he were much further away.
      ‘He is alive,’ said Raavan. ‘Now we must figure out how to go about his rescue’.
      ‘I do not suppose we could just swim out there and drag him back,’ said Talen.
      ‘Not unless you fancy getting stuck in there yourself,’ Raavan replied.
      ‘Rope!’ exclaimed Falco. ‘We shall throw him a good length of rope, and pull him out again.’
      ‘I am not sure that he will be able to hold on tightly enough,’ said Raavan doubtfully. ‘He has likely been struggling long against the mud and is perhaps too weary even to grasp at a rope. However, I do not see that we have any other choice.’
      After tying two lengths of rope together they formed one end into a loop to produce a lasso. This they threw to Fifin several times until it landed near enough that he could reach the loop and encircle his body with it. He had then only to keep the lasso securely wrapped round his chest beneath his arms as the others slowly extricated him from the thick black ooze.
      Raavan and Falco strained at the rope as Talen held the glowing orb. ‘Bloody heavy for his size, isn’t he?’ complained Falco.
      ‘Well, we have the sucking action of the mud to contend with as much as with his weight,’ explained Raavan.
      ‘I think the swamp does not want to let him go,’ said Falco. ‘It is trying to keep us all here within the bog, like some great beast intent on keeping down a meal.’
      ‘That may be,’ replied Raavan, ‘but I rather think that a bit more muscle and a bit less talk are in order right now, Mr. Whiteleaf. How about some more light over here, Mr. Featherby? There’s a good lad.’
      Eventually the swamp did let poor Fifin go, however reluctantly, and as he lay there on the bank next to the exhausted Falco and Raavan Talen reminded them all that they had still to find and rescue Dannadar.
      ‘Quite right, Talen,’ said Raavan, returning to his feet.
      ‘And my pony, too,’ said Fifin.
      ‘There is nothing we can do for your pony, Fifin,’ said Raavan. ‘I am sorry. I hate to abandon the poor beast. As it is, we are going to be hard pressed just to rescue Dannadar.’
      ‘Where is he?’ asked Falco. ‘Did you see him out there in the muck, Fifin?’
      ‘No,’ replied the Elfling, still dripping wet. ‘I do not know where he is. He may have been following a different one.’
      ‘A different what?’ asked Falco.
      ‘A different light,’ replied the younger Elfling wearily. ‘It was leading me to safety.’
      ‘It was leading you to your death,’ replied Raavan.
      ‘What in the world are you two talking about?’ said Falco.
      ‘Will-o-the-wisps,’ replied Raavan. ‘The beguiling lights. See them out there?’ The wizard pointed out into the darkness whereupon Falco and Talen gazed dreamily at the strange, shifting lights.
      ‘O, yes,’ said Talen. ‘I see them now. I am sure I noticed them before but I thought them only fireflies. Now I see that they could not be fireflies: they stay lit too long.’
      ‘No, they are not fireflies,’ said Raavan knowingly.
      ‘What are they, then?’ asked Falco.
      ‘I will gladly tell you all I know of them at a later date,’ said Raavan, ‘but for now we must concentrate on finding our other missing companion.’ The wizard shaded his eyes from the glare of the orb in order to better see Airi. Talen looked also and saw that the owl’s head was turning round and round as the bird looked this way and that. Eventually the owl gazed for a moment at Raavan and then flew off.
      ‘Has Airi found him?’ asked Falco.
      ‘He is flying off just now,’ answered Raavan. ‘Dannadar does not appear to be nearby.’
      ‘Or perhaps he has merely sunk completely beneath the mud,’ offered Falco.
      ‘Let us hope that is not the case,’ said Raavan. ‘There is still hope that he will be found. We shall have to wait once more while Airi searches for him. Try to get some rest now. We may have yet another strenuous task when Airi returns.’
      Talen lay down on the bank next to Falco and Fifin. The soggy youth was already fast asleep, and the other Elflings were soon to follow suit. It had been a very long night already and they were sure their night was not over yet.
      Meanwhile, Airi did not return for a very long time. Even Raavan started to become somewhat distressed—a rare thing for a wizard.
       
       
      The toads had been croaking their throaty night songs when Dannadar rode back to check on Fifin. The younger Elfling seemed almost to be in a trance, for he did not respond to Dannadar’s calls. Instead he continued riding slowly, his gaze seemingly fixed on a distant point.
      ‘Well, he’s not sleep-riding,’ thought Dannadar. ‘His head is not even bowed. What can be the matter with him?’ He followed his cousin for a moment more, then turned round to call to the others, but by then it was too late, for the party had gone on ahead, out of sight, and his little voice was completely drowned by the echoing music of the serenading amphibians. He turned again and saw that Fifin had also nearly disappeared.
      ‘Well, now I am in a fine pickle,’ thought Dannadar. ‘No matter who I follow, at least one of the company is certain to get lost. So which way do I go?’
      ‘I can show you,’ said a friendly voice.
      ‘Who are you?’ asked Dannadar, though so nearly overcome with weariness was he that he could not be sure that he actually spoke the words aloud. He rather thought they were only in his head.
      ‘I am here to light your way,’ said the voice. ‘Follow me now. It is time for you to join the others.’ Dannadar looked, and now he saw a shimmering light approach him. It moved in an alternately rising and falling motion. Though he peered closely at it he could not tell what manner of thing this was. He saw that it had a strangely pleasant hue, not painful to his eyes as a bright light in the darkness would be, but rather soft and with a warm, golden glow. He instinctively urged his pony forward in the direction of the shimmering guide.
      How long he had been following the glowing light he did not know, but he began inexplicably to feel that something was terribly wrong. I must stop , he thought to himself. I am going the wrong way .
      ‘You must follow,’ said the voice, though it no longer sounded friendly as it had before. Now it took on a firm, commanding tone as of one who speaks with great authority. Reluctantly Dannadar urged his pony forward. Immediately after doing so the light began to lead him off the trail and almost directly into a dark pool. After only a few steps in the dark, shallow water his pony suddenly refused to continue. The light had disappeared, and Dannadar heard no voice speak after that, for so tired was he that very soon he was fast asleep.
       
       
      When Dannadar awoke it was early morning, and there was a booming in his ears.
      ‘Wake up!’ Airi was shouting, though all Dannadar heard was ‘Hoot! Hoot-hooooo!’ He looked round in the dim light and saw the owl perched nearby on the bare branch of an old, dead tree.
      ‘Well, hullo, Airi,’ Dannadar greeted the bird. ‘It is awfully good to see a familiar—’ But his voice trailed off, for the owl was now flying away. ‘Well, I am happy to see you, too!’ he shouted after the bird with much sarcasm. Airi did not fly completely out of sight, however. Upon reaching a line of trees about a furlong away the owl perched on another bare branch and hooted twice in Dannadar’s direction.
      ‘Are you trying to say that you want me to follow you?’ said Dannadar. ‘Yes, that’s it,’ he decided. ‘What a clever bird!’ Spurring his pony forward he picked out a path that led toward the line of trees where the owl was perched and he made his way there hurriedly, for he was very anxious to rejoin the others.
      ‘Are they far, Airi?’ he shouted when he had nearly reached the bird. But Airi had no interest in chatting. He flew off through the line of trees and hooted twice from the far side. Again Dannadar followed the patient owl and then the entire scene repeated itself, over and over in fact until Airi had led the Elfling for quite some distance. Dannadar came to realise that without the aid of his feathered guide he would never have found his way. He would have wandered about more or less at random and would have been very unlikely to just stumble onto his companions by chance. ‘My luck just isn’t that good,’ thought he.
      After an hour or so, just as the sun was starting to peer brightly down onto the marsh he heard a call from the far side of a very large lily pond about a quarter of a mile distant. ‘Dannadar!’ came the voice from afar and he could see that several figures were leading their ponies round the edge of the pond toward him. Only minutes later he was met by four companions who were very glad to see him alive.
      ‘Well done, Airi,’ Raavan said to the bird as he perched on the wizard’s forearm. Raavan stroked the owl’s feathers, and gave him a good scratching under the chin, which the bird appeared to enjoy immensely. ‘So you are in one piece then, lad?’ queried Raavan.
      ‘I am fine,’ Dannadar replied. ‘Just a tad hungry.’
      So were they all, of course, for they had not eaten since noon the day before. They were also still very tired, most of them having had but a few hours of sleep. But most of all, they were very grateful not to have lost any of their company apart from Fifin’s pony. Talen described to Dannadar how they had rescued Fifin from the mud and how they had lost the pony to the swamp.
      ‘That will slow us down,’ said Raavan, ‘and for that reason I am going to have to insist that we begin moving again at once.’
      ‘But, what about breakfast?’ asked Dannadar.
      ‘Breakfast will be cold this morning,’ answered Raavan.
      ‘And tea?’ said Dannadar.
      ‘You will have to make do without, I am afraid,’ said the wizard.
      ‘Little sleep, cold breakfast, and no tea to top it off!’ complained Dannadar.
      ‘Would you rather that we fail to make it out of the swamp again today and have to spend another night in here?’ the wizard asked them.
      ‘No, Sir!’ came the reply in unison.
      ‘Very well, then,’ said Raavan. ‘Let us get moving. Stay close behind me this time—and no funny business!’
      They mounted up then, with Fifin and Dannadar sharing a pony. They began to make their way in a south-westerly direction, which according to Raavan’s best guess was likely to be the quickest way out of the swamp. Even so, it was several hours before they began to see signs that the marsh was coming to an end.
      ‘Finally!’ exclaimed Fifin when Raavan informed them that they were nearly out of the fens. ‘I’ve had quite enough of that place.’
      ‘Well, at least there is some good news,’ said Raavan. ‘It appears that we have travelled further south than I had originally planned, which means that we have several fewer miles to travel than we would, had we emerged further north.’
      ‘Good,’ yawned Falco. ‘Then we can afford to rest for a few hours. I could really use a nap.’
      ‘Yes, we could,’ replied Raavan. ‘Then again—’ he said, pulling thoughtfully at his beard.
      ‘O, no,’ lamented Fifin, ‘he is going to run us into the ground! Have pity on our ponies, at least. This one especially: he is pulling double duty carrying the two of us.’
      ‘Have no fear, Fifin,’ said the wizard. ‘I do intend to take a rather longish break. I think we all need the rest, the ponies included. But it occurs to me that if we ride on for a few hours more after reaching the grasslands we should find ourselves near the homestead of Farmer Aggley.’
      ‘Go on,’ said Talen.
      ‘Aggley’s farm is a pleasant place—very comfortable,’ Raavan recalled. ‘And he sets a mighty fine table, if I remember correctly.’ That was enough to convince them, for their stomachs were now beginning to rumble again.
      So on they went, and an hour or so before noon they had finally emerged from the Glassie Fens. Every one of them were glad to see the grasslands again—except perhaps Airi, who had always enjoyed the excellent hunting afforded by the marsh. Before leaving the swamp he had himself a nice, fat bullfrog and he was now ready for a nap.
      They went slowly after reaching the grasslands, for they wished to avoid taxing the ponies unnecessarily. There were again many flowers in bloom, and with the bright sun and the gently blowing breeze their spirits rose quite a bit. Shortly after noon they decided to take a quick break just to nibble on something and stretch their legs a bit. They stopped in the midst of a great field of sunflowers. There they munched on an apple and then they lay among the flowers under the splendid sun, watching its warm glow through their eyelids. They were glad to be safe again, and for the present they had no worries.
      When they awoke it was late afternoon. Of course, they had not intended to fall asleep. Raavan roused them all and urged them to make haste and mount up. He reckoned that it was still some twenty miles or more to Aggley’s farm, while the amount of daylight remaining looked to be rather less. So on they went, riding hurriedly southward in hopes of reaching the homestead before dark.
      As they went along the sunflowers seemed only to get more numerous, and also noticeably larger. Soon they were so big that the blooms were fully the size of a man’s head and they stood so tall in places that they fairly towered over the mounted Elflings. Talen thought to himself that they looked rather like a vast crowd of silly-looking creatures, yellow-faced and with floppy green arms, all silently watching the company pass. Almost uncanny , thought he, the way they all seem to be facing us—even the ones we’ve passed .
      The sun was setting when Raavan informed them that they finally had arrived. They saw no house as of yet, for they were riding through a large apple orchard. The orchard itself was in bloom and its appearance was rather striking, for the setting sun cast its horizontal rays onto the delicate pink blossoms to give them a depth and hue that was nearly breathtaking.
      When the party emerged from the orchard they saw that another small field had yet to be traversed before they would arrive at the large stone farmhouse. Beyond the house was a great red barn in the corner of a fenced off pasture and there a dozen cows stood feeding from a trough near the open barn door.
      The riders had almost reached the house when a tall figure approached from the direction of the barn. He carried a pitchfork over one shoulder. ‘Who goes there?’ barked the man.
      ‘Hello, Aggley,’ Raavan called to the stranger.
      ‘Ah, Raavan!’ replied the farmer when he had come near enough to see their faces in the dim light.
      ‘How have you been, old friend?’ Raavan asked as the riders dismounted.
      ‘O, we are all doing fine here, mostly,’ Aggley replied. ‘And who are these young ones?’
      Raavan answered: ‘May I present Talen, Falco, Dannadar, and Fifin: road-hardened Elfling adventurers from the land of Laurelindor.’
      ‘You don’t say?’ said the farmer as he took another look at the diminutive travellers.
      ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir,’ said Talen and the others as they shook the old man’s lengthy hand.
      ‘O, the pleasure is mine, I am sure,’ said Aggley. ‘And now I sense that you’ve a tale or two to share from your journey,’ said the old man, smiling at them. ‘Yes, a tale or four by the looks of you! Well, why don’t we go inside and hear of your adventures over supper?’
      Raavan replied, ‘That would be splendid,’ a comment that was echoed heartily by the others.
      ‘Right, then,’ said the old man, leading them to the house. ‘Let’s see what Irma has cooked up today. Did you know that my wife is the finest cook in all of Aresse? Well, that is a fact!’
      The inside of the old stone farmhouse was rather rustic, but very clean. The open windows let the fresh, spring air in, while at the same time letting out the delicious aroma of a hot, home-cooked meal.
      Airi at once took up residence atop a coat rack by the door. There he remained all night while keeping a watchful eye on the farmer’s cat, who appeared equally wary of the owl. The tawny tomcat mostly stayed under a table in the family room licking his paws and watching the people come and go, but always he kept the owl in his sight.
      There were a number of other people living in Farmer Aggley’s house: some family, but mostly farmhands and servants of various kinds who helped Aggley keep up the large farm. Now those people filed in for dinner.
      Aggley took the travellers into the kitchen and sat them around a large table at the end of the room opposite the oven. The farm-hands ate in an adjoining room, as did the rest of Aggley’s household, so that only Aggley and his wife joined the companions at dinner.
      The meal consisted almost entirely of pies: meat pies and vegetable pies of various sorts, even round loaves of heavy bread baked in the shape of pies, which they broke and used to mop up the thick gravy that coated all the fare. These were followed by fruit pies for dessert: strawberry, rhubarb, and peach. And there was plenty of it all to go around. All was washed down with a light golden beer which they found very refreshing. ‘Almost as good as Dad’s,’ remarked Fifin into his mug.
      If the Elflings were satisfied with the quality (and quantity) of the meal, Farmer Aggley was tickled pink by their highly entertaining tales, recounted energetically by the now-refreshed travellers. He especially enjoyed Talen’s comic description of Dannadar’s fall into the swamp. Dannadar laughed as hard at this as any of them, though he still maintained that the spectacular flower had been well worth the clumsy fall.
      ‘The swamp is a queer place, and no mistake,’ said Aggley. ‘I’ve heard tell of people going into that place and never coming out again. Leastways, not alive anyhow.’
      ‘It is a place to keep your wits about you,’ agreed Raavan.
      Talk then turned to their exploits at the tomb of Folláineádlan, and their hosts were much amazed when Talen brought out the glowing sphere and laid it shimmering on the table.
      ‘Wondrous,’ said Aggley.
      ‘It’s beautiful,’ said Irma.
      ‘Yes, well, King Folláineádlan and his family had many fine treasures, I am sure,’ said Raavan, ‘but they have had to leave all those worldly possessions behind. And now their proud walls and stone guardians do little to keep out the pillagers. Time, it seems, will not be ruled, even by kings.’
      ‘Speaking of stone guardians,’ said Talen, ‘I would still like to know what devilry was at work with those Gargoyles.’
      ‘Devilry indeed!’ exclaimed Aggley with such a scowl that his guests feared they had somehow insulted their rustic host. After an awkward moment of silence he continued: ‘Those devils have been eating beasts round here what don’t rightly belong to them! Got one of my cows just last week. Old Betsy, she was as good a milker as I’ve seen in a good many years.’
      ‘Are you sure it was Gargoyles?’ asked Raavan.
      ‘Well, I didn’t see it happen,’ said the disgruntled farmer, ‘but old Brockle next door here, he lost two ox to them, and he seen the devils at their work with the second one.’
      ‘That is disturbing,’ said Raavan.
      ‘Damned right,’ said Aggley, who clearly was still agitated from the incident. He quickly saw, however, that his ruminations had changed the mood of what moments before had been quite a merry gathering, and he soon urged them all to refill their mugs and resume their tales, for he found them very amusing indeed.
      Before long the weariness stole over the guests, however, which food had only temporarily banished, for they were still short on sleep and had not yet fully recovered from their distressing ordeal in the fens. Irma showed them to the guest rooms, where they found the beds to be very comfortable—so much so, in fact, that several of them went right to sleep without even washing up first.
      In the morning they again joined Farmer Aggley at the table in the kitchen where they enjoyed piping hot flapjacks and tea with sweet honey.
      While the Elflings were finishing up their tea Raavan stepped outside to have a pipe with Farmer Aggley. When the Elflings came out they found only Raavan, for Aggley had already gone to work in the fields.
      ‘All rested up, then, lads?’ said Raavan when he saw them come out. ‘It is time to get underway once more. We should arrive at Aberlaven the day after tomorrow. Aggley has generously offered us the use of one of his ponies, so we should be able to pick up the pace a bit today—barring any unforeseen obstacles, of course.’
      ‘I trust there are no more swamps for us to wade through,’ said Falco.
      ‘No more swamps,’ promised Raavan. And with that they made ready to leave. They rode south through Aggley’s wheat fields, which were fallow that year.
      ‘We did not get a chance to thank our host for his fine hospitality,’ said Fifin.
      ‘I gave him our thanks before he went off to work,’ said Raavan. ‘And I think he feels more than repaid for his generosity: I cannot remember ever seeing Aggley laugh so hard as he did last night. I am just glad you did not make him split his sides.’
      ‘We did try,’ said Falco.
      ‘I am sure,’ said Raavan.
      They did pick up the pace that day, covering quite a few miles before evening. The following day they also made good time, for there was very little to distract them in this land. In the late afternoon they saw the great Seawall Mountains approaching from the south. By the time they were ready to halt for the day they were already in the foothills and they saw before them the road leading up into the mountains. They had left the plains of Aresse behind and were come now into the southern lands of Arenya.
      ‘That is the road to Aberlaven,’ Raavan informed them. ‘We should arrive tomorrow around mid-morning.’
      ‘Then we are nearing the end of our journey,’ said Fifin.
      ‘Perhaps,’ said Talen.