Ceuro took the empty plate and goblet and headed back down from the lookout spot on the ridge. He had endured something of an onslaught from the angry Filignil. She was still on duty, and would be for another hour, and she was not at all amused that she had only just had the day’s happenings explained to her. The Housekeeper-come-Guard was a swift shot with a bow. None would enter Numenstaya without her knowing, and her permission. She had watched the coming and going of Captain Culufinnel, who was of certainty an Elf and no Man, and the travels of Yrill. She had paced back and forth along the ridge herself, as if she was walking on hot coals.
“Tell Lord Estarfin I ask if he is a Noldo, or one with the whey blood of a Sinda? If he claims he is still a Noldo then why does he not act as one? This is his Lady and Lord Parnard missing. If he will not act then let him relieve me of my duty, for I will surely find them.”
The smith had tried not to show his lack of enthusiasm for such a task. He had no desire to be caught between two forceful members of his own Kin, particularly those two. “Lord Estarfin is convinced Captain Culufinnel is playing some cruel joke on us. He waits now for Yrill to return with him in tow.” He had nodded his head to the lone figure of Estarfin, now seated on the grass outside Parnard’s house. The raven haired Noldo was watching the road, waiting for news, for Culufinnel, but he increasingly did not appear his usual self. He was undoubtedly in a fey mood, angry with the Captain, and as such was best not crossed in any way.
“I will speak with him,” Ceuro had replied, and that was no lie. Whether he would relay Filignil’s message was another matter.
Filignil had looked at him as if he were an idiot. “Culufinel does not have them, neither does any other Elf,” she said with a huff.
He hurried down from the ridge, intending to return the crockery that had and still did bear Filignil’s meal, and the goblet she had at least drunk from. He would have to pass Estarfin and, as Culufinnel was not yet there, expected him to be …awkward?
He understood in part. There was no reason to just rush off with no idea where to look or what exactly to look for, but brooding in the Homestead did nothing. If Culufinnel had Danel and Parnard, he admitted he would be surprised. But he bowed to Estarfin’s greater knowledge of the folk involved.
Estarfin looked up as he approached. “I will give him half of one hour. If he is not here then, we ride for Celondim. If need be I shall kick down his door and drag him out.”
Mentally Ceuro blinked, and wondered how Cirdan would take one of his appointed Captains being treated so?
“I shall return these to the kitchen, then go and check the horses are ready to ride, Lord.”
There was a loud cry from Filignil hailing someone, followed by hooves crossing through the barricades and the gap in the partly built wall opposite. He turned.
And Estarfin was on his feet. No look of anger, rather one of curiosity. He hailed the fair haired rider. “Greetings Hingalas, though you arrive at a poor time for a proper welcome. What brings you here?”
Hingalas? Ceuro had heard Estarfin, Danel and Parnard speak of him. They liked him.
He dismounted his horse, leaving it to graze where it stood, and walked straight over to Estarfin. He gave Ceuro a nod of ‘greeting’, but his expression was most grave.
“I came as soon as I heard the news. Is there anything I can do? I know I am limited with a sword, but as a searcher perhaps? I am good at that.” His eyes were filled with sorrow.
Estarfin took a step back and regarded him openly. “What news, Hingalas?”
“Oh forgive me but Lord Cirdan told me himself! He had only just received a report. Why that Lady Danel and Parnard are missing, presumed captured by Men.”
Estarfin stared at him, a slight nod indicating he should explain further.
“I took the liberty of riding past the spot as I travelled from Mithlond. Almost thirty sets of hoof prints were there, though as the guard who escorted me pointed out, they did not all arrive there at the same time. Some prints were older. It seems they hid in the woodland, in nearby locations to watch the road. He was waiting on orders, as the trackers had found all the horses headed off in the same direction, then six broke off and headed towards Gondamon, and the others made for the Dourhand port at Kheledûl.”
Estarfin’s eyes narrowed. He sighed. “You are certain of this?” he asked, without any rancor.
The Sea-elf nodded. “I heard it from Lord Cirdan, who sends his regards and hope for a swift recovery of our folk.”
“No sightings of Lady Danel or Parnard?” Ceuro asked, though he expected Hingalas would have mentioned such.
“I am afraid not. Though one horse was carrying more than one rider, and someone was dragged quite a way.” Hingalas looked down solemnly. “I have brought a long coil of Hithlain for you to use, if anyone is stuck down a cliff or in a marsh or something.” Hingalas pointed back at his horse, then walked swiftly to fetch the Hithlain and hand it to Estarfin.
The old Noldo took it with a nod of thanks.
“How can I help you?” the young elf looked up. “They are my friends as well.”
Estarfin shook his head. “Rightly do you say work with a sword is not your strongest skill. But sharp is your eyesight. Perhaps return to Duillond and offer your services there for now.” He lay a hand briefly on the young Elf’s shoulder, as a brother-in-arms would do. “My thanks.”
“Find them please, Lord Estarfin.” With that and a rub of his eyes, Hingalas returned to his horse and mounted. He made a salute, then rode swiftly away.
Ceuro waited. He had absolutely no intention of relaying Filignil’s message by that point.
Estarfin ran a hand back through his hair, then said, “It may be time to ride out ourselves. We head to Celondim.”
With a nod of acknowledgment, Ceuro ran back to the Hall to dispose of the crockery and to pick up his knives from the armoury, as well as the sword he almost constantly wore. No lingering Men would find him ill-prepared.
Marawendi rushed over. “Where do you ride?” she asked, and seeing Hingalas riding away, asked for news. Not waiting for an answer to either question, she clasped her hands together, and said, “They have not returned as you said they would, Lord Estarfin.”
“Then I must assume that it was not just the lack of their horses that delayed them,” he said, affixing his spear to his saddle.
Ceuro rode up and drew his steed alongside Estarfin's. “We ride to Celondim,” he told her.
Estarfin glanced at Marawendi's thin lace dress, delicate, like the maiden who wore it - too delicate for their journey. “Will you remain here and keep Barahirn and Filignil company?” he asked her.
“I must. I promised Lord Parnard I would not ride from Numenstaya without him. Will you find them?”
“I shall,” replied Estarfin, determination in his voice.
“I did not ride here to lose Aearlinn, and Danel - and now that I come to know him better, Parnard, either.” Ceuro said to her, as kindly as he could.
Marawendi made a deep curtsey to the two grim-faced Noldor, unable to say anything more, before running back to the house weeping.
Ceuru felt sorry for the young elleth. Although he did not know her well, he knew she had not had an easy time since leaving her home in Mirkwood. He turned to Estarfin. “We ride, Lord?”
Estarfin nodded. “Time to end this game. We shall bring them home.” He urged Norlome forward.
They rode in silence for the most part, passing Duillond, as Estarfin was satisfied there was no more to be learnt from that place. It was Captain Culufinnel who held the answers, and he would pay for his cruelty.
Arriving at Celondim they found the port quite active for a late afternoon. Folk were selling and buying around the small harbour, and a few guards were gathered, near the tailors, discussing something quietly among themselves.
“They are not happy with the situation,” Ceuro spoke softly himself. “None like to think any of our folk are lost to us in Lindon.”
Estarfin shrugged. He looked around and rode over to Roherdir, the stable master. “Where is Captain Culufinnel?” he asked.
The ellon turned and looked up, inclining his head. “He is here, sir. Last I know he was searching along the river banks.”
“They cannot have drowned,” Ceuro uttered, appalled by such a thought.
“And the Lady Danel, and Parnard. Have you happened to see or hear aught about them?” Estarfin continued, in an authoritative tone.
“Parnard was wearing a fine suit of armour and had a white embroidered cloak” Ceuro added. “And she was also in white, though you would notice her long red hair first.”
Ceuro was aware of the look given him by Estarfin. But he had been awake early on the day Danel and Parnard departed Numenstaya. He knew.
“Well do I know them from their visits here. But I have seen no sight of either since they rode out the night before last,” Roherdir answered with genuine concern.
Estarfin nodded, having no reason to doubt the words, and rode away towards the river bank.
“My thanks,” Ceuro inclined his head. He rode over to a couple of Fishermen on the quayside and asked them if they had noticed anything. Both shook their heads. “We have all heard of what happened. Have no doubt folk are keeping ears and eyes open for any news, though the two are unlikely to still be nearby,” one replied.
The smith turned towards the incline of the main market where several folk still bartered their wares, and he dismounted. Climbing the stairs he hailed trader and buyer alike. “Any news of Lady Danel and Lord Parnard?” he asked. He was met by sad expressions and shaking of heads. Looking back down to the road he could see Estarfin had ridden past the winery to a point where he could overlook the river. Ceuro could almost feel the dark Noldo’s growing frustration from where he stood. He hurried back down from his vantage point, calling to his horse..and then he spotted Yrill.
“Lord Estarfin, Yrill is on the river bank,” he called and waved.
Estarfin turned to look in the direction indicated, then narrowed his eyes as he saw Captain Culufinnel following Yrill from some distance away.
The Huntress seemed well aware of the Captain, but then she ran towards Estarfin unfastening her backpack as she moved, withdrawing a new-looking white embroidered cloak that was soiled with mud.
“That is the cloak Parnard was wearing when he spoke to me last. Where did you find it?” demanded Culufinnel, who was catching up fast.
Ceuro rode to Yrill’s side, halting protectively beside her, though he knew well she could protect them both. He reached down and patted her on the shoulder, glad to see her.
“I thought it was Parnard’s cloak. It was caught up on the rocks upriver, nigh the bend in the water from Kheledûl,” Yrill told them.
Culufinnel caught up, taking the cloak from her hands and staring at it in silence.
Estarfin instantly urged Norlomë forward to block Culufinnel's path. He stared darkly at the Captain, who was forced to take a step backwards to avoid being pushed aside.
~ ~ ~
Now as it had transpired, Yrill had already spoken a little with Captain Culufinnel about the matter she had been sent on. She had had a polite, if somewhat brusque, conversation about the ongoing search when she had approached him on the river bank, having already traversed beyond that point, and finding the cloak. Aware that Estarfin simply wanted the Captain brought to Numenstaya, yet uncertain if she had the authority to do anything should he refuse, she had tried engaging him in relevant converse.
“Is there any recent news?” she asked.
“No. Many ask, and many still search. All that is known is they were last seen on the road near Thrasi’s Lodge. The road there leads to a Dwarven stronghold and port. Dwarves do not serve the Enemy.”
Yrill watched him closely. Yes, he was officious, suiting his rank, but he did not seem to her the sort to have half of Celondim and Duillond searching, if he knew full well where the missing folk could be found.
“Gondamon is a Longbeard stronghold, while the docks at Kheledûl belong to the Dourhands. The Dourhands are oft unfriendly and threatening to us,” she said.
“And the Longbeards?” Culufinnel asked.
“They are sworn enemies of the Dourhands. They are not good friends of Elves, but they are not our enemies, either.” She missed the days of yore when Elf and Dwarf cooperated openly. When the inhabitants of Ost-en-Edhil, the Mirdan in particular, worked with the Dwarves of Khazad Dum to the benefit of both.
This information seemed to grab the Captain's interest. “We have not searched Kheledûl,” he said.
“Then perhaps we should? Let us return to Celondim? May it be you will have a moment to stop again at Numenstaya. Lord Estarfin is sorely concerned as to who, or what, hold his friends.”
And the two had been returning, when Yrill noticed Ceuro waving from a distance, and Estarfin himself, upon Norlomë on the shore.
~ ~ ~
Captain Culufinnel turned to look north, upriver, then said, “The path splits in different directions past Duillond. One leads to Gondamon, one to the Dourhand port of Kheledûl, and the final to Yondershire. I would check Kheledul first.”
Estarfin urged his mare forward again, his action obviously a threat.
This time the Captain stood his ground, glowering up at Estarfin. “What do you mean by this?”
“I tire of your game,” the Noldo said, hissing out the words through clenched teeth. “Where are they?”.
