Captain Landir at last had time to look at the stranger. He was not very tall, rather thin, and had an unkempt, wild appearance, owing to his tangled dark hair, but his face, with clear green eyes and a pleasant smile, held an expression both deferential yet self-possessed, which gave him an air of refinement. His clothing was fine, but rumpled and weather-stained, and he wore peculiar soft leather boots that were pointed at the toes. His sword, retrieved from the poplar tree's branches, was masterly forged, elegant and light, the hilt inlaid with interlacing silver and ebony. It was evident that he was some person of importance.
"My name is Captain Landir of the Malladhrim. Who are you, and where are you going?" he asked, courteously.
The stranger bowed and answered, "I am Parnard, Parnard of the Greenwood, although I was away for a time in Imladris, just a little while, you know. Why, it seemed like yesterday morning when we - Culufinnel and me, I mean," smiling and nodding towards his brother, "were last here, but it has been some time since we have seen anyone, and right glad am I to see you! I say! There are a great many orcs all 'round these parts!"
"Indeed. Very lucky we were near, as you were surrounded," Captain Landir replied.
"I never had any trouble before on the old wayside path. Things are all different now; time must have passed me by. I am mightily in your debt! Thank you for not skewering me on the spot." Parnard grinned.
"Why did you stray this far south - you do know that a war is going on?"
"Well of course I know it." Parnard sniffed, settling back on his heels and looking hopefully around the camp. "I suppose there is occasion for rest here, more than I have been accustomed to recently. Is there water to wash?"
"You shall have it, but tell me Parnard, what were you doing way over there in Imladris?"
Drinking wine, gossiping with Sogadan, and playing silly games in the Hall of Fire.
"Studying," said Parnard.
"Studying what?" asked the captain.
"Oh, I studied many, many things. The Imladris folk taught me a lesson or two, that is for certain!"
"Ho ho! I am sure they did! There is more about you than a mere woods-straggler," observed the elf that had found Parnard in the bush.
"It is our business to know why you are here," said the captain's second-in-command, for he was of a suspicious mind, and did not approve of wanderers in the Greenwood.
Captain Landir held up his hand. "Enough. I do not wish to base my judgment on rumors and whispers, Parnard, so tell me yourself: what are you and your brother doing here?"
The Wood-elf looked through the trees with a far-off, vague expression. Some distance from the path a mass of dark orcish bodies was arranged in perfect elvish order. Torch bearers were setting fire to the heap and black, greasy smoke curls soon obscured the sight. A few errant heads and limbs were tossed onto the growing conflagration.
"'A tale should never be too long, for it causes delay,' as the sage once said," Parnard answered at last. "But my friend Sogadan the vintner once said, 'Delays are oft shortened by sitting before a cozy fire with a glass of wine, and having a pleasant chat,' and I said to Sogadan that it is better to have some roast chicken with the wine, with the cozy fire and the pleasant chat, and it would be even better if -"
Not able to hold his peace any longer, Culufinnel burst out: "Captain, my brother turns everything upside down everywhere he goes; please allow me to explain what happened after he found his way to Imladris.
"Some folk try everything they can think of, without success, to gain position, while another comes, a 'Johnny-Jump-up,' who has no understanding of the 'whys and wherefores,' and, without doing anything whatsoever to earn it, without getting up early, and putting in long hard hours of labor, or taking any trouble at all, finds himself placed in a high office of ambassadorship so many would be envious of. He was even declared a lord by these Imladris folk, Captain, if you can believe it! And then," the cold blue flame in Culufinnel's eyes dimmed and his voice lowered to an awful whisper. "Johnny-Jump-up abandoned his post!"
Parnard groaned inwardly at hearing these last oft-repeated words. Stern faces and steel blades, smoke and ashes, death and disapproval! - it is good to know some things never change! He began to laugh with a dry, low chuckle.
"Pull yourself together! Perhaps having no title, no office, and no repute in your own country will release your brain from its folly," doggedly pursued Culufinnel, embarrassed. "But I doubt it. I have been too distant with you, then this might not have happened -"
"Ha! ha!" Parnard laughed even louder.
"It is impossible to know what might have happened," interrupted the captain, perplexed and growing impatient, "and thus it is even more pointless to discuss it any longer. I will only say this - that it would be very difficult, I daresay well-nigh impossible, for you to travel any farther at the present time without an escort. You shall come with us, for tomorrow we are headed to Ost Galadh."
"Ost Galadh!"
The captain looked sharply at Parnard. "Yes, Ost Galadh. It is a nearby fortress."
"I know it," he muttered.
The captain, sensing sudden displeasure, politely added, "But you never said where you were going."
Parnard remained for a short time deep in thought, with his eyes shut and a hand on his furrowed brow, before raising his head and slowly saying, "You see, Captain Landir, I am charged with delivering a message."
"Oh? What message is that?"
"One of such secrecy and sensitivity, that it cannot be told to any but the recipient."
A secret message from Imladris! "In that case," the captain said, considering the matter at length, "it is preferable not to cause any dispute or vexation with the Golodhrim of Imladris. You may go whither you will, but it seems a great risk."
Parnard turned the matter over in his mind, dismayed at how heavy the shadow lay upon his home, and thinking how Culufinnel breathed nothing but revenge since setting foot under the Mirkwood eaves, and how the darkness seemed to fix upon his spirit and change his temper, and that it would be only a matter of time before his brother was sore wounded. "I suppose we must," he said.
"Well, good-night. Be ready before first light, for I hear the Enemy is on the move, and we must make haste."
Parnard drew his arm through his brother's affectionately. "Dear Culufinnel, there is simply no knowing what will happen next during these strange times. One day, the rain could be pouring, and the milk has soured, or the day might dawn as golden as fresh butter in a field of dandelions; it may all calm down and come to right again, or we may see more orcs. 'Hope fills up the waiting moments, that the time never seems so long,'" and with other diverting sentiments of the same ilk Parnard steered his brother toward food and fire.
