Elwil extinguished the fire as soon as there was enough light for her to see the silhouette of the horizon. It had been raining through the night and it was still raining in the morning. It had taken all her skill to make fire in the rain and keep it burning through the night, but at least that activity had kept her from falling asleep.
She was lucky to find some winter berries growing in the bushes nearby. There were not enough to satisfy the hunger that was gnawing in her bowels, but it was at least something to quench her thirst. She had been trying to drink rainwater as much as she could as it poured down from the sky, but she really had no way of collecting it. If she got thirsty enough, there were plenty of puddles around to drink from though.
It was raining, and it was cold and damp and windy. She felt tired, hungry, thirsty and dirty, but there was no time to waste. She figured she would have to spend another night out in the wild before reaching Buckland, no matter how fast she walked.
Elwil left her little camp and walked westward as quickly as she could. She felt a little better now; the long night had ended, she had survived it, she had a plan and she was going somewhere. And the Shire was only a walk of another day or two away; some people survived in the wild much longer than that!
In a way she felt freer now than yesterday afternoon, after she had realized Delioron had betrayed her. It was better this way, to be on her own, not having to rely on anyone else for her own safety. It was better to get away from all of them and the games they played with people’s lives.
The night had been terrible. She could not shake the feeling that someone was close by, watching her. A couple of times she had scrambled up on her feet and demanded to know who was out there. But of course no one had answered, because there was no one out there but wild animals, like hedgehogs and squirrels. It all felt so silly now, in the light of a new day.
Suddenly she felt the hairs of her neck go up as she sensed there was someone out there, behind her. She stopped and looked over her shoulder.
And there he was – a man on horseback, a man in a gray, hooded cloak. The man whom she had seen yesterday at the ruins. The man who had followed her all along silently, like death.
And suddenly all her confidence and joy of freedom was gone.
”Please, don’t be frightened”, the rider said in a quiet, gentle voice. A reassuring voice. ”Don’t run, please. I just want to talk to you.”
Elwil turned around to face the rider. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. All strength had disappeared from her legs. And really, where could she have run anyway? The man had a horse and she was on foot; he could easily run her down.
Perhaps the man knew what she was thinking, for he dismounted his horse; very slowly. ”Please”, he said again. ”Don’t run from me like you did yesterday.”
”Why are you following me?” Elwil asked.
”Ah”, the man said. And then he laughed, as if Elwil had made some kind of a joke. He pulled back his hood and Elwil saw the man had a pale, round face, almost like a child’s face, with big blue-gray eyes. He should have looked harmless, almost comical, but there was something not quite right about his eyes. It took her a while to realize they were completely blank and empty. His round, childlike face made him appear very young at first glance, but the sides of his hair were all grayed, indicating that he could have been much older than what he first appeared.
”Who are you?” Elwil said.
”My name is Demmon”, the stranger said. ”Local people usually call me and my kind Rangers, but your people in Gondor also know us by our proper name: the Dúnedain.”
Elwil blinked. Demmon didn’t look at all like she had imagined the Dúnedain to look like. He didn’t even carry a bow or any kind of weapon as far as she could tell. But then again, she had never met a Dúnadan before, so what had she been expecting? A uniform? The Dúnedain were a people, not a military unit, so there were likely all kinds of folk among them, and they would probably want to avoid looking conspicuous. Demmon spoke Westron with peculiar accent she had never heard before. Perhaps that was how the Dúnedain spoke.
”I have been watching you”, Demmon continued after a short pause. ”You and your friends from Gondor. I am not pleased to see people from Gondor coming here to cause trouble and commit murders in our land. I saved your life at the ruins yesterday. He was going to kill you, that man with a bow. One of your friends, or so I thought. But you must be very thirsty. And hungry. Please, allow me to offer you some wine. Perhaps fix some food too? I have caught a few squirrels to roast.”
”I have to go”, Elwil said, frightened of the strange man. ”Please, let me go. I don’t know you.”
”Please”, Demmon said, with his calming, gentle voice. ”Where are you going? It is not safe for you to travel out here alone. You’re not even equipped for the wilderness. Please trust me, I just want to help you.”
Elwil took a step back and glanced over her shoulder.
”Please don’t run”, Demmon said again. ”Don’t run from me like you did yesterday. Tell me where you’re going and maybe I can help you get there. Tell me what your people are doing here in Bree. This is our country, and your people have come here to violate the laws of those we are sworn to protect. You have killed one of my kin. It must stop now.”
Demmon offered Elwil a flask. ”Here, take a few sips of wine. You look like you need it. Let me make fire as you skin a couple of my squirrels. Then we will sit down, eat something and you will tell me what’s going on. Can you skin a squirrel?”
Elwil stared at the flask suspiciously. Demmon took a sip from it to show it wasn’t poisoned. Then he offered it to Elwil again.
”What do you want?” Elwil asked again.
Demmon looked at her and smiled shyly. ”Only to help you”, he said.
