Read Trek to Kraggen-Cor for Free Online

was out of the Kingdom when we were there—somewhere here in the Boskydells ... or so he told us."
    "Why, if it's not at the court it must be with my grand-uncle at the Cliffs," said Perry. "He's the Master of the Ravenbook Scholars—Uncle Gerontius Fairhill, I mean—and if he's got the King's copy, then they're adding to it the marginalia collected by the Scholars over the past fifty years or so. . . . Let me see: this would be only the third time it's been updated since its making long ago—"
    "Be that as it may," interrupted Borin, "King Darion told us that Sir Tuckerby's diary and the original Raven Book were also here in the Boskydells—perhaps at Sir Tuckerby's Warren, being tended by the Fairhills, he thought. Hence we came, and your Mayor led us to you, Master Perry.
    "Heed me: The account of the journey through Kraggen-cor is vital to us. We have travelled far to see the Raven Book. And if the tale is here in your copy, we would hear it for ourselves." Borin pushed the grey book across the table toward Perry.
    Somewhat taken aback by the bruskness of the Dwarves, the two Warrows glanced at one another, and then at Lord Kian. Reassured by the smile upon the Man's face, Perry reached for the tome. "Oh, the tale is here all right," replied the buccan, turning the book around, preparing to open it; but then he paused. "Only, I don't know exactly where to start. I think perhaps before I read to you of that trip through dreaded Drimmen-deeve, we should speak a bit about what went before, for mayhap it will have a bearing upon your quest."
    "Say on," said Borin, "for we know not what may aid." And Anval, too, nodded his agreement while Lord Kian settled back in his chair.

    "Who can say where an event begins?" mused Perry, "for surely all happenings have many threads reaching deep into the past, each strand winding its way through the fabric of time to weave in the great pattern. But let me start with the first battle of the Winter War, for two of the four comrades came together in its aftermath, and went on to meet the third, and they in turn came upon the fourth:
    "As Modru's forces marched from the Wastes of Gron through the Shad-owlight of Winternight and down upon the northern citadel of Challerain Keep, and as women and children and the old and infirm fell back toward the havens of Pellar and Wellen, of Valon and Jugo, and of other Lands to the south, some warriors hastened north, to answer the High King's call to arms. Among those mustered was a force of Warrows, skilled in archery; and one of these Vulg-fighting Warrows was Sir Tuckerby Underbank, known then simply as Tuck.
    "The iron fist of War at last fell upon Challerain Keep, and you all know the outcome of that struggle, so I'll say nothing more of it, except that the order to retreat had been given and Tuck became separated from his companions. He had spent all of his arrows, and Rucks, Hloks, and Ghuls were closing in. To elude Modru's forces, Tuck took refuge in an old tomb; it was the barrow of Othran the Seer. There, too, by happenstance, came Galen, then Prince of Pellar, weaponless, for his sword had shattered in battle.
    "Together the two waited until the enemy passed by, and then, riding double, they struck southward through the Dimmendark, their only arms being the Red Arrow, borne by Tuck, and a long-knife of Atala, carried by Galen—both weapons having been found in the tomb.
    "They had ridden to the northern marches of the Battle Downs when they came upon a scene dire, one of butchery, for the entire escort as well as the helpless innocents of the last refugee waggon train had been slaughtered. Yet neither Galen's betrothed, Princess Laurelin of Riamon, nor his brother, Prince Igon, Captain of the escort, was among the slain."
    "Modru Kinstealer," said Lord Kian softly, swirling the ale in his mug.
    "Just so," answered Perry with a nod. "Princess Laurelin was taken captive. The track of a large force of mounted Ghuls bore eastward, deeper