"Agorel vae Suldal, agorel vae..."
Whispering into the horse's ear and giving the beast an appreciative pat on its neck, the hooded rider lead his steed at a steady walk through the western arches of the ruins of Dolindir, now known to most as Esteldin.
* * * * * * *
No question was asked of the horse and rider as they entered. Instead they were greeted with waves, hails, bows and the occasional dropped-jaw of the younger recruits in training. Though the rider replied in kind to most, none could see the frown and masked dislike of the attention beneath in the shadow of his hood. He didn’t expect this, but nor should was he surprised - Ranger’s after all, are known to see and hear everything. It seems his coming was of no exception. He could only hope the reason, however, was.
‘Then again, I may be overthinking this. After all, I did spend quite some time here - so of course most would recognise us’ , Gilvendir thought to himself.
Two days they had ridden through the lands of Bree and through the North Downs to reach their destination, with only an overnight camp just outside of Trestlebridge. The Ranger had little love for troubling an already-troubled place with his presence. Most of his journey he let the horse lead, having full trust in his steed.
A well-trained Ranger's horse has amazing endurance, able to keep a steady yet decently paced canter almost all-day. Suldal was more. There were times during their journey that Gilvendir had to rein-in the eager beast. His steed knew the urgency of their mission, and wanted to get his master there as quickly as he could.
The Ranger knew full well that if he let Suldal have his way, he would've reached Esteldin in a day-and-a-half. He knew too that the horse would not complain, despite the rough terrain they had travelled through. Gilvendir though, would not put his horse through such punishment unless in truly desperate times.
This matter was urgent, but far from desperate. At least from what he knew of his task.
* * * * * * *
"Le suilon, Andufion! It has been many winters since we last saw you. Prestad?"
"Mae govannen Arochon. U-prestad. I have a matter to attend to which may require me to borrow one of your horses, would you have one available?"
"Of course! Though I doubt any horse could fly as fast as Suldal eh?"
As if understanding the horse-master Suldal nodded his head twice, giving a small whinny, as he were agreeing. Gilvendir raised an eyebrow at his steed and smiled as he thanked the horse-master and dismounted, letting his faithful steed rest a little less burdened.
The horse and the rider continued to make their way through the camp, their search accompanied by the soft scrunch of the soil beneath them and sounds of campfires crackling and the murmers of those sitting around the fires. As they walk Gilvendir’s left arm wraps up around Suldal’s neck and, casting a sidelong glance at the horse, he says quietly:
“Well, let’s go find this guest shall we? I daresay he’d stand out in this crowd…”
