We continued, Estarfin doubtlessly thinking of what could await us in the Halls of Moria…as indeed was I. Parnard was likely thinking of dark tales he had heard of Moria, without any clear idea of what it was really like, and Marawendi unable to differentiate one danger from another. But at least we were leaving Mirkwood.
There was a point some few leagues past the site of the upturned wagon, where we all turned to look to the left. Our horses all began twitching their ears. It was the sound of movement, of possibly a dozen riders careering through the woods in pursuit or someone or something. Then can three sharp blasts of a hunting horn. Almost immediately the sound was returned, but from a horn bearer further south.
“Those from Felegoth have found reason to give chase,” I said.
Parnard looked in the direction of the first horn a few moments more, then urged Swan Hoof onwards. Marawendi followed him.
I tried to reach out, to sense if we were in any danger, but the sounds of the riders was growing fainter as they moved ever deeper into the woods. Soon their horses would have to be left, and the hunt continue on foot. There was something out there, but I could say no more than that.
I looked to Estarfin. “I hope it is caught with no harm to its pursuers.”
He shrugged. “Let us leave this place,” was all he said.
And we walked on. There was much rustling of smaller animals, and twice we saw at a distance small groups of frailer looking wolves. We walked into midday, as the sun rose high and what heat there was became trapped by foliage and branches, and then the sounds of flies and other insects increased. We walked until mid-afternoon, when the path was again wide enough to ride with some ease. So eager were we to depart that we only halted to water the horses from our water skins, and give them a short rest, before we were off on the final stretch, to Forest Gate.
As we approached the Vale of Andune, we saw there were a few more guards on the gate than when we entered. One stepped in front of us, holding up his hand to indicate we should halt.
Usually I would expect Parnard to ride to the front and address his people, but he hung back, looking down at the ground and sighing. Marawendi was her usual quiet self, and Estarfin took some dried apple out of his saddle bags and began eating as if he had not a care in the world.
I urged Pelorian nearer the guard.
“The King has ordered the roads shut,” the guard said. “We did not expect to see anyone disobeying him.”
The other guards turned as one, almost blocking the road. “Noldor,” one whispered. “You know what they are like.”
I recalled him making a slightly derogatory comment about us when we entered the Forest. I was not amused. “Yes, two of us are Noldor, and I am sure you know what we can be like,” I looked to the whisperer meaningfully. He looked down. “Two are of your own folk, and friends of ours.” I turned back to the first speaker. “We Noldor respect your King’s authority over his lands and people. We would not travel unless our need was great, and we knew we could defend ourselves and these others. We have caused no burden to any, but would pass peacefully back to Imladris.”
There was a pause, while they spoke with each other. “You are not King Thranduil’s people, but guests. The other two however….” He moved to stand by Swan-hoof, and looked up at Parnard.
“You wish to leave our lands?”
Parnard appeared to drag himself from his reverie. “What is that? Yes, yes, I wish to leave Mirkwood,” he managed. Then he seemed to realise for the first time we were at the gate. “It is back over the mountains for us all.”
The Guard looked at Marawendi.
“I, also, wish to depart,” she said softly.
The guard nodded, then turned back to Estarfin and I.
“The roads are closed for safety. You may have heard two of our guards and two Men were murdered on the road? Well as you are all here, I see naught wrong with letting you pass. None other have sought entry save another of the Noldor, riding fast and brandishing weapons almost as a threat.”
“And you blame that on us?” Estarfin finally had enough of the dried apple.
The guard took a good look at him, and decided to follow the path of least resistance. “I said not so, but she was a rider with a purpose, and undaunted. The main problem is from Vale Men seeking to trade as usual. We have turned back two wagons already.”
“And that family,” another of the guards commented.
“Ah yes. Six from the families of the two murdered men, wondering why they were late. We could not tell them the truth or they may well have rushed forward to their own doom. We shall speak with them when the road is safe again.”
For an instant I felt a sense of self-reproach, and a chill in my heart. Then it was gone. I focused on the path ahead.
Estarfin rode intentionally close to the ‘ill-mannered’ guard, pushing him slightly with his knee. He looked for a reaction. Fortunately there was none.
It felt wonderful to be out from under the stifling trees. Did we really want to travel home through the old Dwarven stronghold?
“It is good to be out from that canopy. So where are we heading now?” asked Estarfin.
“Anywhere, as long as it is not back to the forest,” Parnard replied.
Was it really down to me to choose?
I sighed. I remembered the three times I had walked in Khazad Dum, though it had always been with a few other Mirdan, and a Dwarven escort. I realised that it would no longer look like my memory.
“It will be a challenge leading the horses through the mines, yet we cannot leave them. There are many stairs, but fortunately they are built wide and shallow, so a horse could slowly climb. There are also a few bridges, mostly stone but one at least wood.”
The others all looked at me.
“You are the most well-travelled, are you not?” said Estarfin.
“Maidens always choose what they will do in the end,”said Parnard. “So why not the mines.”
“I have not harmed nor betrayed you, Parnard. Neither has many a maiden. Take not your disappointment out on all.” There had been a few ‘stiff necked maidens’ comments from Parnard since the refusal of his suit. I understood that, but I was not about to let him place me (or Marawendi) in the same category as Brasseniel.
“I chose Moria for us, “I put an end to the wondering. I will not pass the Redhorn, it is too near to Minas Ellendur.”
Estarfin’s face darkened at the mention of that name.
“And I see similar threats in the Hithaeglir and in Moria. We know there will be treacherous paths now, and more goblins. That may or may not be the case in the mines. I know the way, unless there have been cave-ins.”
“So be it,”Estarfin replied, though he looked unconvinced by my assurance.”It will be a dark path.”
“Since when have we Noldor feared the dark?” I replied.
“It is not the dark I fear,” Estarfin turned to regard me.
We both knew what was most likely still there.
