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"Willy," came the reply.
Arbin turned to the three. "The Beyonder Guard always has a point buccan, one
with sharp eyes, good hearing, and a swift pony, out at the far edge of the
Spindlethorns, out where the Bosky ends and Rian begins. If someone approaches,
then he'll come pelting back here ahead of 'em to warn us. If it looks like trouble, and
if there is time, then we'll open the wall and in he'll gallop and we'll slam shut the
barricade behind him. But if they're right on his heels, then through the crawlway he'll
scoot and we'll drop the thornplug to stopper it. O' course, the aft-guard will be
signalled so that they can prepare, too.
"If it's a fight, then we climb up on these stands and shoot down at them, though
we've never had to do that yet. Meanwhile, the aft-guard will send a fast rider back to
warn the camp and to bring reinforcements. If by some chance the foe breaks
through here, then there's the aft-barrier on the other side of the ford where we'll get
to. Beyond that is another one, and finally the Deep Plug back at the campsite. And
the Deep Plug will cork up this tunnel till Gyphon, Himself, comes back."
At the mention of Gyphon's name, Tuck felt a deep foreboding, and a cold
shudder ran up his spine as if from an icy wind blowing. But Tuck said nothing of
this dark portent, and soon they turned and walked back the way they had come.
That night, Tuck, Danner, and Tarpy were assigned with seven others to the
barrier on the near side of the ford. A fire was built out beyond the open barricade,
out where it would cast light upon anyone coming across the shallows, and the
buccen alternately took turns standing guard and warming by the fire. On Tuck's
turns to warm himself, he jotted notes in his diary by the firelight.
At mid of night, the watch was changed, and Patrel's squad rode back to the
campsite, Tuck, Danner, Tarpy, and Patrel himself riding double with other Warrows
of the squad.
The next morning, Tuck's grey pony and Danner's chestnut were found by a
patrol from the fifth squad, but as of yet there was no sign of Patrel's piebald or the
pack pony.
Tuck, Danner, and Tarpy had spent the morning studying, memorizing a section
of a map; and at midday the squad Walked the Thorns in that area, going some five
miles to the north by pony before returning, searching diligently but vainly for splits
and cracks in the land where Vulgs might lie up during the time the Sun was on high.
They kept their eyes out for Wolves, too, but saw none. And they inspected the
Barrier for breaks, but of course there were none.
Again at night they stood Beyonder Guard at the ford, but nothing of note
occurred.
For six more days the routine did not vary, except Tarpy was called upon to
cook for the squad. As usual, the food was jovially vilified by all, except, since it
was Tarpy's first go at cooking, the jokes were a bit more gentle than would be the
case were he a cooking veteran.
Patrel's piebald pony came wandering alone into the camp on the following day,
seeming no worse for the wear. As chance would have it, on this day the fourth
squad, Patrel's, was to begin Wolf Patrol, roving wide across the countryside and
looking for sign of Wolf, and now Vulg, too. The trio of Danner, Tuck, and Tarpy
were pleased, for they had studied hard and the features of the maps were firmly
implanted in their memories, hence they were to be permitted to join the wide-ranging
search. But Tuck was to be disappointed, for he was to be left behind. He had
forgotten that he was the cook for the day, and his duty was to prepare a hot meal
for the squad's return at dusk.
All day Tuck jittered about nervously, fretting about Danner and Tarpy and Patrel
and all of his other squadmates, wondering if they were safe and if they had seen any
Wolves or Vulg sign or had found any Vulg lairs. And the day dragged by on leaden
feet. At last it was dusk, and Tuck had the meal hot and waiting, but still they had
not yet returned, though other squads had.
An hour passed, then another, and Tuck worried about the food and felt anger
that they hadn't come to eat it when it was first ready. But then he thought how
foolish it was to get upset over a meal when someone could be hurt or a fight with
Vulgs could be raging. But most of all he fretted and paced and stirred and took the
cauldron off the cooking irons only to put it back on when it had cooled a bit.
Finally they came, plodding wearily into camp. Tarpy was first. He slid off the
back of his new white pony and tiredly removed the saddle, blanket, and harness and
slapped the steed on the rump, sending it scudding into the rope pen to the awaiting
hay. The others, too, came stringing in to do likewise.
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