We parted with the Hobbits on Kingsfell around midday, them taking the faint and infrequently used path to Trestlebridge, Bree Town and then their home. We bid them a rather fond ‘farewell’, being a little concerned for their safety, but also knowing they were far from incapable. They were a tough and hardy folk at need.
They in turn were concerned for us. “Make sure yer all eat at least three times a day,” Henepa had scolded us. “Yer all be wastin’ away ter nothin’ if yer not have us ter remind yer.”
She and Lithea ran over to reach up and try to hug me. I leant forward over Norlomë’s withers and embraced them.
“Come an’ visit us,” they said in a chorus, then laughed. “When yer have High Lord Parnard back, tell him we think of him.” They backed away, waved to Estarfin, who inclined his head, ran off to try and hug Yrill and Culufinnel, then returned to their ponies.
“We shall miss you,” I said most genuinely. And with waves and salutes to Tolbold and Gaisarix, we rode on, to Lin Gilliath.
“They will be safe I believe,” Yrill spoke softly as we watched them into the distance. “They have a lot of good sense, including a good sense of direction.” She raised a brow at Estarfin, who ignored the implication.
“Lead on, Yrill. We do not have time to waste.”
She smiled at him, knowing that full well.
Lin Gilliath has been an Elven Enclave on the North Downs for some time. Housing a large library, ‘Tham Gilliath,’ where in quieter days many elves had studied in relative peace, the place was recently standing firm against larger numbers of orcs. It was one of the most far-set of our communities and folk were becoming concerned for its on going safety. There were plans afoot for the books to be moved back to Imladris, but for now the place still stood. Beautiful architecture of pale marble and red tiles, and well-kept gardens met our eyes as we rode over the hilltop and beheld the vale.
“How do you feel?” Estarfin asked again, in Quenya. I understood his concern. I would have been as concerned for him, had our situation been reversed.
I turned slightly, and lay a hand over his. “I am a little tired, but much better than I was,” I replied, also in the ancient tongue. “I hope most earnestly they can spare a horse, so I can lessen Norlomë’s burden.”
“She has borne you most willingly,” he replied, “but it is better for speed if she only carries one rider.” He swung off the mare’s back and helped me down, and took a deep breath of the fresh air.
On the far side of a small arched bridge, some of the inhabitants left what they were doing and walked in our direction. “Welcome travelers,” the foremost said. “How may we help?”
Culufinnel had also dismounted. His somber green eyes roved over the greeters. “Not a single weapon or piece or armour among them,” he muttered in disapproval.
“Nay, it is a place of learning,” I answered. “There should be guards, but most here are scholars.”
Estarfin sighed. “We should speak with the Lord of this place. Tell him what we know as well as ask for aid.”
“A spare horse, and…” I looked down at the thin fabric wrapping itself about my legs in the breeze, and my bare feet. “Perhaps a change of outfit into something more practical?”
“And supplies, if they can spare them,” said the ever-practical Yrill as she joined us. She regarded me closely, “You could rest here, while we three find Parnard, Danel?”
I gave her words the courtesy of a moment’s thought. Then I shook my head. “My will is set to find my cousin, my friend. If you others think I will hamper that, then I shall stand down. That is the only reason I would do so.”
I looked around at them. Culufinnel appeared unsure. I looked to Estarfin. “You who know me best see that I am not yet myself, but I am already feeling better.”
“Come, friends,” the elf who welcomed us said as he waved us over the bridge. “Come and be refreshed. We have food, wine and water, and will attend to your horses.” He smiled, as if nothing pleased him more than offering hospitality to wandering folk. “I am Gandolin. Perhaps even refresh yourselves in the rills, if you wish?”
“I would have you ride with us, Danel,” Estarfin addressed me in private, as we headed towards the buildings. “But only you know if you will be strong enough?”
I could not lie to him. “I shall see how I am in the morn. Then decide.”
Yrill would not want me to be left behind. I thought that Culufinnel still looked unsure, and he strode off speaking to Gandolin.
A trestle table was brought out and covered with an assortment of fruits and cheeses and portions of meat and fish. Two large pitchers of water were placed on the table, along with some crystal goblets, cordials, and wine. The ellyn approached with towels and bars of pressed soapwort.
“Come, wash yourselves, at least.”
We were all tired, but so pleased to be among our own kind that we followed where they led. The horses were taken to the stables, where two elves waited with their grooming combs and brushes.
“If you will remove your boots, and any other leather gear, we shall clean them for you and return them before nightfall,” said one of them, a young bright-eyed ellon. “Your cloaks also? They are covered in ash.”
There followed a few moments as we divested ourselves of our leather accoutrements and cloaks. The youngster looked at me with wide eyes. “Oh, Lady. How awful that you have travelled without shoes. Hose and boots will be found for you straight away - well, after you have bathed your feet, perhaps?”
I nodded my thanks. “Would you find some other suitable clothing, a cloak, and possibly a jerkin?”
He took up the items and hurried off.
Culufinnel returned and told us that a few of the elves were followers of Gildor Inglorian.
“Gildor is here?” asked Estarfin, hopefully.
“I do not know,” he replied as he laved his hands and face in a basin
“Is there any trouble here?” I said to the Captain.
“Yes. They speak of Orcs coming through the North pass. But they saw no sign of the wagon or my brother.”
Estarfin walked over to address the doorward standing by the doors of the scholars’ retreat. “When will Gildor return?” he asked.
After a considerable amount of conversation, which I did not strain my hearing to listen to, Estarfin replied to the ellon, “I know him well, for Gildor often travelled to Imladris.”
“Why did the Men take your shoes?” Culufinel asked me of a sudden, his eyes taking in my unshod feet, my whole disheveled appearance.
“So I could not run far, I suspect. Also because I am very tall to them. But I can run without shoes, had the opportunity arisen. This length of silk reminded them less that I am also a warrior at need. Alas, they burnt my original clothing, as if it was tainted.”
“Have you any news of another Elf of late?” Estarfin was now asking the doorward. “Our friend, the captain’s brother, was taken. He is an elf of Mirkwood, tall for his people, and black and silver of hair, with green and silver armour.”
“I do not think he still wears your armour, Estarfin,” I called out. “I overheard some commotion with the dwarf; I suspect he took it. Parnard is likely garbed in a similar fashion to me.” I said what I thought, although I knew that would grieve him. Estarfin had laboured over that work to help Parnard plight his troth, and used up the last of his Formenos steel, brought over on the ships from Valinor. There would not be any more.
The doorward shook his head. A few Men had passed by, not far away. They appeared to be heading for Othrikar. No, there was sign of any elf. “If we had seen him, we would have attempted a rescue,” I heard him say.
Then several of those who appeared most like students, wearing long, plain robes without cloaks, carried sacks over to our stabled horses.
“They bring food and water skins, and here is a tunic and hose for the lady. We are still looking for spare boots and a cloak.” Gandolin explained. “While you refresh yourselves, we shall see your armour cleaned and polished before morning. The horses are being fed, and will be ready when you choose to depart.”
What more could we have asked for?
Culufinnel caught the sleeve of one of the passersby. “Quickly, fetch ink and a quill and a scrap of paper. Go now!” The bookish-looking elf picked up his robes and ran off. “I must send report to the Lord of Lindon,” he explained to us.
“You shall need someone to carry the message,” Yrill said. “News to Lord Cirdan of what we have discovered should not be delayed, and I doubt any of these scholars can ride as swift and sure as I can.”
She was offering to carry message back to Celondim. “But you are part of our group, my friend,” I told her. “And you are our best hope in following the Men.”
She smiled just a little and laid a hand on my shoulder. “As I recall, you have a fine sense of direction, Lady. A Wagon, three horses and a large cat should not be too hard to find on the far side of Nan Wathran. And who else should carry this message to Cirdan? Not Parnard’s brother, not Lord Estarfin, nor yourself. Put your trust in me. I shall deliver his letter, and any words you have for those at Numenstaya.”
She was right. Cirdan needed the information sooner rather than later. He could not wait upon us returning with Parnard, neither could we all divert to Mithlond and lose the trail. Culufinnel disappeared for a short time while we others walked over to visit the horses. True to their word, the other Elves had all but pampered the horses. They were ready to travel.
“Leaving already?” one asked Yrill as she saddled her mount.
“It is necessary. Forgive me, your hospitality is most welcome, but I must do this.”
“Then carry our hospitality with you, and give a greeting to those you speak with. We are sometimes forgotten out here in this wilderness.”
The Huntress inclined her head and smiled warmly, moving to set the bags of provisions to her saddle, then checked the girth and stirrups.
Estarfin had wandered over to Norlomë in the next stall. She tossed her head and whinnied at his approach. He offered her a red apple, and patted her neck.
“You did well my friend. Thank you for carrying both of us,” he whispered in Quenya. She flicked her ears and snorted. “I am worried for her too. But with rest and food she should regain her strength.”
I moved forward to rub the mare’s nose, and kiss her on the forelock. “You have my heartfelt thanks, dear one.”
Yrill was ready. “Take care. I trust this captain far more than I did at the start of our journey. He has his own ways, and does not speak much, but I believe him to be upright and fair in his dealings.”
We both nodded to her.
“As do I,” I replied.
She made a bow to us in turn, then hugged me. I could envisage the old days in Eregion for a fleeting moment. Our friendship had begun there.
“We shall see you soon. Please tell Filignil of all that has happened. And tell Ceuro, too. Make sure they know that all three of us shall be returning home.”
Estarfin inclined his head. “Safe travels.” Then he turned to the nearest part of the lake and took a good look at the water.
And Culufinnel was back with us, hurrying from the scholar’s archive with a sealed letter in his hand.
“I shall carry this to Mithlond first, then return home,” Yllfa said, stuffing the letter inside her tunic as she mounted up.
“Home?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I am becoming familiar with the company. If it is acceptable, maybe I shall stay awhile.”
I laughed at that, and saw how Estarfin shifted his gaze from Yrill to the flowing stream. He was assessing how cold the water was. I watched him place his weapons on the grass.
“Will she stay with us after she returns?” I asked him.
He nodded, then started divesting himself of his armour.
With a salute to Culufinnel, Yrill turned her horse south. “Find Lord Parnard safely and swiftly, and may Elbereth watch over you,” she called back.
“May it be so,” said the captain.
