Teahesto raced westward across the Bree-lands, the eagle Sûlpadron pacing him on the wing. The stars were beginning their watch, the brightest ones already competing with a risen moon for attention, all casting an ever more noticeable silvery gleam across the grassy western edge of the Bree-lands.
“When I parted with Cutch-man,” Windwalker said, “I bade him make his path down from the heights to the lake called Starmere; there he might rest before striking south to the Hobbit-Lodge.”
Teahesto nodded, “I know where that is. Fly back to him, O Windwalker, and render any aid he may need as best you can. His injuries as you have described them may impede his trek or cause further harm. Tell him I am on the way.”
“Be thou mindful, Captain-Elf", Windwalker warned. “There is a camp of Men to the north. Weapons are drawn and they fight to slay each other.”
Teahesto shook his head, puzzled by the unexpected news, but quickly pushed his curiosity about them away. “I will pass them to the west and approach the lake where it flows out westward.”
With an acknowledging screech, the eagle pushed upward into the night sky. Teahesto leaned into the gathering wind and urged his horse for more speed. As the eagle had revealed, Men had established a camp, and as Teahesto rounded it well to the west, he saw no sentries posted. Halting his horse, he could hear the sounds of battle; clashing weapons and a voice shouting out ‘Her Majesty!’. He left them to their mortal business and pressed on to the lake.
The grassland gave way to a ridge rising to the north, and as the ground steepened so did it become more wooded. The Elf slowed his horse to carefully climb up and through. At the top of the ridge, he dismounted in a small stand of concealing trees to give his horse a rest and to scout the distances from his high vantage point.
Behind him to the south he watched for some time to sense if he was being followed. Satisfied that those in the Man camp did not detect his passing, he turned his attention to west. Faintly, he could make out the Edain ruins of Ost Barandor, and under the full darkness of night, no fires could be seen. To the north, Starmere Lake hugged its tiny wooded islands, nestled in a steep walled valley, its waters sparkling with moonlight. On the western shore, he could make out the very faint glow of a tiny campfire. Across the lake to the east, the valley wall climbed up as cliffs to a spire-like peak upon which clung another Edain ruin, Sutwarden. Clearly, there were fires dotted around the entire structure, more than would be necessary for campfires. Was this evidence of more conflict? Teahesto contemplated how much cover these upheavals would give for his rescue efforts.
A familiar screech turned the Elf’s attention up to a tree bough, where Windwalker was sweeping in. “Make haste, Captain-Elf! LadyRedElf’s beloved is sickly and weakened, and may need thy horse to carry him out! Dost thou see his fire on the west shore below? I have found him flint to start one.”
Teahesto wordlessly nodded, mounted his horse, and urged it down to the lake as quickly as prudence allowed. After unloading his horse and stripping himself down to a tunic and a short sword, the Elf swam the deep flow south from the lake, leading his horse. Hopefully, Little Man would be able to hang onto the horse’s mane on the way back. After mounting bareback, the Elf heeled the horse toward the tree under which Cutch’s fire flickered, and from which Windwalker issued a calling screech.
Cutch sat cross-legged, shivering and staring blankly at the ebbing flames, his trembling voice muttering, “I’m right here, melon nin”...
Teahesto stooped next to the delirious man and lay a hand across his brow. “You are burning up, my friend.” He quickly looked Cutch over, noting the ruined eye, burns, and raw exposed skin. He peeled off the makeshift bandage over the eye, and hissed in a breath; infection was setting in.
“O Windwalker," Teahesto said, "I bid thee find me the athelas plant with all haste - check the islands, for in these lands it favors wet ground.” While the eagle searched, the Elf cleaned the bandage in the lake, then used it to apply cool water to Little Man’s brow. “Can you hear me, Crane!”, Teahesto quietly but firmly urged.
Slowly, Cutch’s eye drifted to Teahesto’s face, and focused with recognition. A faint grin found his lips. “Did you see her, Teahesto? She was right here...” He turned his gaze back to the fire, and his eye opened wide with disappointment. He looked back at the Elf. “Are you just a dream, too?”
“No, my friend, I am here”, Teahesto softly reassured. He led his horse to the fire and bade it down to let Crane rest against its warm body. The Elf was daring more wood on the fire as Windwalker returned, dropping athelas sprigs before him, then lifting up to keep watch in the tree. Soon, Teahesto applied a poultice to the injured eye beneath a cleaned bandage. “We have to go now, Crane. Stand with me.”
Cutch nodded and tried to stand, but his unsteadiness brought a worried look to the Elf, who bade the horse to rise. Teahesto easily lifted Little Man onto the horse. “Hold his mane, Crane. We have to cross the river to the other side.” Cutch nodded, hands filling with the mane and an eye straining to focus forward.
Relieved to have crossed the flow without mishap, Teahesto gently lowered Cutch to the ground near the pile of gear. He draped a blanket over his shivering friend and let him lay, then turned to redress and load the horse. By the time he had finished, Windwalker had settled into a nearby tree, and watched as Teahesto knelt next to the unconscious Cutch and checked his fever, which had not gotten worse, but was no better.
“We need to press on, my friend”, the Elf muttered to him, then to Windwalker, “We will ride west of the Man camp again, then to Adso’s”. The eagle swept up ahead of them to scout, and Teahesto wrapped Cutch in the blanket before lifting him up and into the saddle. Holding Little Man in place, The Elf swung into the saddle behind him and urged the horse forward.
By dawn, Teahesto finished the descent onto the grasslands to see Claywick, mounted, and surveying the dying fires that had nearly consumed the vacated Man camp. Clay turned as Teahesto approached.
“No idea what that was all about,” Clay said, “but looks like a battle was fought … here, let me take Little Man to give you and your horse a rest.” He easily lifted the limp Cutch to his own horse.
Teahesto looked to see Windwalker land in the last of the trees at the edge of the ridge. “I think we can make it from here, O Windwalker, and I thank thee for thy aid!” he said to the great bird.
“Yea, now the only danger thou hast is time,” Windwalker affirmed. “I must away to LadyRedElf with these tidings, and I shall return as needs demand. Farewell, Captain-Elf!” Both riders waved to the abruptly departing eagle, then turned their mounts towards Adso’s.
(Screenshots courtesy of Seregrian)
