House Bar-en-Acharn gathered their mounts and themselves outside the ruins of Ost Barandor, looking to find their next path on their hunt for the missing Cutch Crane. The light was already fading into the gloaming of the night, the shadows deepening beneath the trees.
Seregrían looked about at the company of her friends: the Elves among them, Iyenue, Emlinor and herself could keep going, but not the others; Kortheod and his companion Plusheila, and the hobbits Lancogard and Applecider, would surely be flagging before the night was done. The trackless woods through the Brandy Hills would tax their endurance further, but they had to press on. When she spoke to them, her voice betrayed her anxious worry.
“My friends, we must hurry,” she said. “I fear these delays and our slow pace. We are all weary, but I must ask you to press on for a time in the dark.”
”Well, let's be shiftin', aye?” Applecider said, “We can go for a while yet, afore we needs a lie-down.”
”We'll move on foot for now,” Seregrían said, “for there are dangers all around, and we must be ready. Kortheod, Emlinor, take the lead - find us the fastest way down to the lake. Iyenue, watch behind.”
The Household set out, leading their mounts down a steep incline bearing east and a little south. The path then bent sharply to follow the rocky bastion of Ost Barandor, bending south then east then south again, descending into the rift until the stream met them at the bottom. They let the horses drink while they looked for higher ground to make camp. The hobbits worked to get a fire going and water on the boil for tea, and soon a cheerful light shone in the gloom. The banks of the stream were thick with reeds, and the night-sounds of beasts and birds were all about them.
“There is so much wildlife here,” Seregrían said, “I had forgotten about it all…"
“Hard to believe, this close to the lands of Men there are still places of beauty and quiet,” Iyenue remarked.
“They are still here, and all about you, if one knows where to look,” Seregrían said. “The Wild is not only the province of the Elves, you know. We share it with Men – and halflings, whom I’m coming more to know from the Shire.”
“Strange, I have not heard the Elves claim it for their own,” Iyenue retorted.
“I have,” Seregrían said. “And just for one night, shall we share it with them?” Iyenue started to speak, but a look from Seregrían made her hold her tongue, and she turned in to rest. The rest of the night passed in watches, with Emlinor and Seregrían trading duty to allow the others to sleep. The morning saw the company rise, break camp, and continue on foot along the stream until the lake of Starmere opened before them in its deep vale. They proceeded up the western edge of the waters, Seregrían in front with Lance at her side.
“Now, we were told of a camp on the west side, but where? And how far?” Seregrían said. They had made it halfway up the western shore, a deep defile running up and west into the hills, when Lance stopped short.
“Everyone hold up here!” he called back, as he crept forward, his eyes on the ground and the edge of the water.
”Lance, what is it? What do you see here?” Seregrían asked.
“I can tell you,” Iyenue said, “mud – and a lot of it!” She had stepped into a soft patch of ground, sinking past her calves and halfway up her legs. “And these flying pests!!” she cried as slapped at a mosquito that was ready to attack her face.
Lance crept around a bare patch of ground near the waters’ edge, his hands out as if sensing the air, his head twisting to and fro. The company stayed well back, letting Lance have plenty of room. Kortheod and Plusheila held the horses. Iyenue found a rock in a sunlit spot and sat down to scrape mud off her boots. Emlinor stood silent and watchful.
”What-do, then, Lancey?” Applecider said.
Lance looked up and motioned, “Your Ladyship, here!” He began pointing as Seregrían approached. “Signs of a hasty camp - the wood by this tree is charred, there's been a fire, and recent, too. And there are bootprints all over, that’s why I asked everyone to stop – two sets of booted feet.
“And right here, there’s hoofprints, and a patch of ground pressed down hard! There was a mount, and a huge one, too!”
“Teahesto has a great war-steed,” Seregrían said. “I think perhaps you found the place where he found Cutch.”
”Hullo, an’ what's this, then?” Lance bent to pick up something. “Cider, come look at this! A bandage, I’m thinkin’?”
Cider peered at it and sniffed, “Aye, an' it's turned sour. Whatever it were coverin' were in wretched shape.”
Lance held it up before his face, “It's big enough to go round a person's head. Your Ladyship, I think this was one of Master Crane's wraps. The tracks are only a day or so old - whatever horse made them, may have carried him off.”
“We gots to follows it 'afore we loses it!” Cider said.
“He was hurt, badly,” Seregrían said, “if Teahesto found him, he would've taken him to help. That would mean Adso's, as Windwalker reported. I wonder...”
All talk stopped at a call from Emlinor, “A rider is approaching from the heights – it’s Aifiolossë!” All eyes followed his glad shout at the rider in silver robes, her horse picking a slow way down the ravine to the company.
“Aifiolossë! Welcome and well met!” Seregrian said as the tall Elf-woman dismounted.
“Well met indeed, young Seregrian,” Aifiolossë replied, greeting the Household with a wide smile.
“How did you know where to find us?” Seregrian asked. A shrill cry from over the lake brought smiles to both Elves, and all eyes turned to view an eagle diving over the waters, effortlessly snatching a large fish from the bosom of the lake.
Applecider waved at the bird, “Oi, there ye be, luv!”
“Sûlpadron arrived before nightfall,” Aifiolossë explained, “and brought us the news that you and the Household were on your wandering way. Reasoning that you should have reached Starmere by the morning, Teahesto suggested I come here first. Your eagle-friend is weary and hungry, and I bade him rest from his journeys and feed.”
“I am grateful, as I know he is,” Seregrian said. “If he arrived yestereve, then what news is there? And you say ‘us’, who else have you seen?”
Aifiolossë smiled ever wider, laying her hand on Seregrian’s shoulder. “I come with glad tidings: your betrothed lies at Adso’s Camp, in the care of Teahesto and others. Little Anurania has arrived and is helping as she may. Teahesto has ridden away north to keep watch over the brigands’ camp there. When I saw that all was in hand, I came looking for you and the others. Cutch is safe, but gravely ill – and Teahesto bade you come with all speed.”
Seregrian smiled in turn, a wet streak beneath one eye. “My friends, our journey is nearly at an end,” she said, turning to the others with a voice filled with emotion. "Come! We ride to Adso's!” The company mounted and, guided by Aifiolossë, left the lake behind them. As they reached the flatter plains of the Bree-land they broke into a full gallop, racing toward their destination.
The Household arrived at the place known far and wide as Adso’s Camp, the site of the building of a hostel and inn as a waystop along the Road. A small tent-village had sprung up near the site, and wayfarers would use it as a rest from the Road. It was to one of these tents on the edge of the camp that the Household reined up and dismounted. Two women were hovering around a cookfire and kettle as the riders approached, and Seregrían called out in surprise.
“Caladna!? Is that you??” The woman heard her name and looked up, surprised in her turn, setting down her things and rushing to embrace the Elf.
“Elf-sister! It’s you at last! I got here and started tending Little Man, but when that eagle arrived and actually spoke – well, Clay wasn’t kidding, was he? - I was as shocked as could be.”
“Everyone!” Seregrían said, “Here is Caladna Greenlake, a friend – and almost sister to Cutch.”
Anurania walked over to the pair, looking meaningfully at Seregrían, and the two women embraced fiercely without a word.
“Anurania, thank you,” Seregrían said. “Caladna, what can you tell us?"
Caladna shook her head. “We have managed to keep the infection from spreading, but his fever will not go down. Teahesto has given him something for the pain. I pray one of you is a better healer than I.”
Seregrían slowly walked to the tent, almost afraid to enter as she stooped to step inside. The others crowded round the entrance, hoping. There, on a pallet lay Cutch, covered by a light blanket, a bandage swathed over part of his face. Seregrían knelt at his side and, taking his hand in hers, looked on his face, the wounds visible beneath the edges of the cloth.
“Im si, melethel... A im si na medui...“ she whispered.
At the sound of her voice, Cutch opened his eye and turned his head to her. His other hand clumsily reached for hers. “Mel'nin?” he muttered.
Lancogard’s throat was tight as he spoke, “I don't know whether to cheer, or cry...”
Applecider patted Lance on the shoulder. “T'aint' nuffin' wrong with both, Lance,” she said, full of emotion as well.
Aifiolossë, nodding with a smile, moved to one side and made to stand guard over the tent. Iyenue put on a faint smile. Emlinor and Kortheod stood by as well, the latter looking around for Plusheila, who was nowhere in sight.
“You are safe now, melethel,” Seregrían said. “Rest. All will be well... I promise...”
“I wazafool...” Cutch rasped.
“Yes, you were a fool... my fool, my own bespoken Mortal fool.”
“I… shoulda trusted you.. told you...”
“It matters not... I'm here now... all your deeds will be sung later.”
“I – I’m ssooo...sorry....mel'nin....”
“Hush now, sweetheart. The time of sorrow is past. Now comes the future, and we shall see it… together, dear one.”
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