Wisps of smoke from the pyres melded with the morning mist as I sat astride Traveller on the hillside looking over the newly expanded graveyard outside of Esteldin. In one sad day, we'd doubled it's size. Cairns would be built to hold the ashes and headstones were being finished. The rangers had sworn to ensure that each of the Free Folk resting there would be marked and remembered.
I'd said my farewells to them and to the living, most of whom were already away seeking new employment or staying for a while at the behest of the Rangers who would be patrolling heavily for a while to ensure that the enemy knew they meant to keep the slave route shut down.
Sharleyan Applebottom and her closemouthed hunting companion, Larkspur were on their way at my behest to Needlehole in the Shire to find and keep an eye on one of my nieces, Annabette and her traveling companions. I'd received word from Annabette that they were under surveillance by someone with ill intent and I knew whomever it was would find it difficult to remain hidden from Sharleyan in her own homeland.
The rest of her squad, the Eorl lass Cweneo, Theodana of Gondor and the elven champion whom I only had heard referred to as Tart (a most unusual nickname for an elf, but one she accepted from those who fought at her side), as well as the Haradric warden, Taph, were gone also, on their way to sell their services to whomever would be willing to pay for and deal with that unusual and dangerous combination.
Capt. Dynnys was gone too, I could still see the dust from her trail as she rode toward Evendim. I'd have ridden with her, but my report to the Council was due and I needed to find out what had occurred in Bree and its environs in my absence. Traveller tossed his head, anxious to be off, so I gave him his head and without delay, he crow-hopped under me playfully and set off at his usual pace, knowing full well we were going home and quite possibly as anxious as I was to get clear and move to somewhere quiet and familiar for a change.
