Swan-Hoof had fortunately suffered no injuries, but she was restless and concerned, not only for Pelorian, but for Parnard and Danel. Both horses were tossing their heads, neighing and snorting. ‘Could the horses but speak,’ Yrill thought, not for the first time in her life.
Ceuro was examining Pelorian’s wound, while she stood as best she could for him. She must have been limping all the way from where she was attacked. Even a short journey may have taken hours. “I need to get her in the stables to check her wound better,” he said. The smith was dark of expression. “We must tell Estarfin. This changes everything.”
Captain Culufinnel halted his horse. “Who are these horses’ riders?” he asked.
Yrill nodded, patting Swan-Hoof on the neck as she trotted past. She would follow Pelorian anywhere. “The injured grey mare is Danel’s. The small black one is Parnard’s horse.” She watched Ceuro lead both horses away.
Estarfin hastened over from the Hall, once he saw the horses return, and stared up at the visitor without saying a word.
“Captain Culufinnel,” said the blonde-haired elf to him, as means of introduction. “You are Estarfin, I believe? This elleth here,” he said, nodding towards Yrill, “says those horses belong to Danel and Parnard.”
Yrill turned to Culufinnel and inclined her head to Estarfin, “It seems there was an incident last night near Duillond, Lord. Now the horses return, and Pelorian is injured.”
Estarfin halted a few steps away and frowned. He followed the horses with his gaze until they were out of sight.
“You see that Pelorian has an arrow in her shoulder,” Yrill said.
“What!” There was anger in that exclamation of Estarfin’s, that anyone shot at horses, but he also looked confused.
“A tumult was reported outside Duillond late last eve,” said Culufinnel. “The returning patrol reported this when they returned to Celondim. We have been scouring the area, and found a swath of trampled grass beside the lake outside town. All signs point to mischief, and wherever there is strangeness and trouble, one can usually find Parnard.”
Estarfin turned slowly to regard Culufinnel. “You are his brother, are you not?”
Culufinnel nodded and seemed eager to depart. “I must be away. Will you come with us to search further?”
“And where will you lead us?”
Yrill was surprised, expecting the dark Noldo to spring into action upon hearing the Captain’s news; instead he did nothing but regard Culufinnel with skepticism.
Culufinnel appeared to be losing his patience. “We must go at once and search. We must find them.”
“Will we go all the way back to Mirkwood again? Is that your wish?” Estarfin narrowed his dark eyes.
“Mirkwood?” Culufinnel blinked in surprise. “Do you not understand? We must search for leagues around - there must be a trail. I have a few guards to lend, but we need more folk to search.”
Estarfin crossed his arms over his chest, and shook his head. “It is a foolish game,” he said. “But injuring a horse? That is taking things too far, too far.”
Yrill looked back at the hall, hearing voices. Ceuro had fetched Barahirn from the hall and was explaining what happened as Barahirn hobbled along on a crutch, determined to see to Pelorian’s wound. Ceuro saw him off at the stable door, then returned to the others, arching a brow in silent question. He finally spoke:
“Do we ride? Barahirn will care for the horses. Pelorian’s wound is not that deep.”
“Do not listen too closely to this mischief. Danel and Parnard will return safely,” Estarfin told him.
Ceuro shook his head in disbelief at what he was hearing, but he did not know what Estarfin knew of Culufinnel’s abduction of Parnard some several years earlier. “What if they are injured, or captured, Lord Estarfin?”
“Not much could injure Lady Danel,” Yrill said, speaking from experience. “Nor would it be easy to capture her. She fights better than many.”
Culufinnel looked unconvinced. He reminded the Noldor of the trampled grass by the road leading north from Celondim, a sign of many feet passing, and told them that rough voices were heard on the wind, nearby Duillond, and reports of screams.
“That would be the screams of dying men, I hazard a guess,” the huntress commented.Yrill then raised her chin. “Were there many footprints?”
“At least a score of them.”
“Enough!” Estarfin interrupted, clenching his fists.
“And -” continued Culufinnel, heedless of the interjection, “there was blood on the grass: it could have been horse’s blood. I suppose you care very much about that,” he said to Estarfin.
“What game is this?” Estarfin’s voice was low and dangerous. Ceuro and Yrill took a step back.
“‘Tis no game, sir,” Culufinnel straightened to his full height on his saddle.
And that seemed enough for Estarfin to state some of his reasoning. “Culufinnel has no honour,” he announced. “He has only sought ill to Parnard, and did indeed poison his brother in Imladris. This I have heard.” The two elves stared at each other, faces dark and frowning. “I heard this from your brother and Danel. Now you appear when their horses appear, and with this tale of mischief.” Estarfin slipped his long and cruel spear from his back, and leant on it, the threat apparent.
Culufinnel looked astonished and at a loss for words - then he spoke slowly and deliberately, “My guards and I searched the area. There was blood on the grass - and this.” He held out a finely made elven long knife.
Yrill looked closely at the bloodied knife, recognising it immediately. “It looks like one of Danel’s weapons.”
Estarfin continued leaning on his spear and watching Culufinnel. “Indeed,” he said.
“Then something has happened to her! To them!”
Estarfin sighed out, “This jest wears thin, and I have a thirst.” He turned and walked back to the hall.
“This is folly!” Culufinnel murmured, and gave the dagger to Ceuro. “This may be the last any of you see of Danel, and he has a thirst!.”
Estarfin soon re-emerged from the hall sipping a glass of wine, holding a bottle in his other hand. Culufinnel flashed him a look of contempt before riding away, saying as he left, “I go to find her, and my brother.”
“Just bring them back swiftly,” Estarfin shouted after him.
“What if Captain Culufinnel has them, and does not bring them back to us?” Ceuro asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
Then Yrill realized that Estarfin truly believed the Captain had “whisked away” Lady Danel and Lord Parnard, as he had done to his brother on a prior occasion whilst they resided in Imladris. It did not seem that far-fetched a thought; but in her mind the evidence of an attack by a group of Men seemed more likely.
“He would not be so foolish,” Estarfin replied to Ceuro. "If he were not Parnard’s brother things would have gone ill for him here, captainship or no."
The raven-haired huntress sighed. Her thoughts were for a swift pursuit, but Estarfin knew those involved far better than she, so she held her tongue and did not voice her instincts, for the moment. “I know him not,” she said with hesitation, “but such an act seems exceptionally cruel, particularly after the recent attack. That is Parnard’s brother? He does not seem very much like Parnard at all.”
Estarfin frowned, “That is what both Parnard and Danel have told me. He is cruel.” He finished his glass of wine. “But this, this is reckless. We should allow him only a day for this…folly. No more.”
Yrill decided then that instead of a meal and a rest, she would ride down to Duillond to see for herself what Culufinnel had spoken of. Lord Estarfin might be certain that Danel and Parnard were being ‘held’ by the new Captain, but she was not.
