With Forlaw within sight, we stopped to rest and eat. Soon, Rhiwnag alerted on the hoofbeats of a heavy horse coming up the rise along the same path we’d made. Peeking down the slope, we saw a lone rider, in Rohirrim armor, astride a similarly armored horse, following our tracks. I stood and placed a hand on the battle-cat’s head between his ears. Together we faced the fellow who, when he saw us, was briefly startled; so was his horse, whose hide shuddered at the sight of my companion. The rider reached forward to stroke his mount’s neck and gently murmured in his ear before addressing me, “We have been following your trail from Scylfig, my lady. We mean you no harm.”
We regarded each other for several moments, our beasts obviously under control. The rider was a Man of rank and privilege, as measured by the quality of his arms, armor, and mount. His manner was confident and with an air of authority. “Then what do you mean, sir?”
“I am Elfnere, a Thane of the Eastemnet, sent to investigate the rumors of ... troubles … in the Wildermore. The folks in Scylfig explained what happened there and recounted your assistance. I’ve left my troop behind to reinforce, as you’d advised, and then came to find and accompany you to Forlaw”. He glanced at Rhiwnag. “It appears you are already well attended, and given the remains of the warg-rider and his beast, I would assume you are not without the means to defend yourself?”
“You are right on both counts, Elfnere. But I welcome the company of a local knight. I am Istlonda of the North.”
He nodded, most of his curiosity seemed satisfied, and together we rode the rest of the short distance to Forlaw, our conversation focused upon what we could share about the situation in Wildermore. When we were within shouting distance of the city gates, he reined up and quietly asked me a sudden and direct question. “Are you a witch?”
His eyes were steady on mine, and I returned his gaze equally and replied as evenly as he had asked. “The ill-informed may use that word, but I am no cave dwelling crone crouching over a cauldron’s stench concocting evil potions. We refer to one with my skills as lore-master, and yes, some of the things we know may seem unnatural to the….” I paused to find a polite term.
“Ill-informed?” he rhetorically offered, an impish grin playing at the corner of his mouth.
I nodded, respectfully, with a playful flourish.
Rhiwnag’s thoughts pried into mine. “Perhaps you should release me for now, until you are ready to venture from this place.” I nodded to him, and he padded away out of sight before discretely fading back to his realm.
Elfnere and I passed through the gates of Forlaw, the guards recognizing the Thane with salutes, which he dutifully returned. They gave me no more than brief notice; apparently being with a Thane was the only pass I required. We rode to the stables, where Elfnere dismounted and entrusted his steed to the stable master. I followed suit and both horses were quickly in good care.
“From the North, you say you are from?”, Elfnere asked. “Eriador?”. The stable hands continued their work but were listening. At this point, it seemed prudent to be open and honest. Unspoken truths can seem deceitful if revealed in inopportune moments, and they should be avoided if I would continue in the company of this Thane. I removed my thick hat to reveal my Elvish traits.
“Yes. Eriador, although not from places you may have on your maps.”
The stable hands shot me startled and dismayed glances, but quickly returned to their tasks. Although surprised at my appearance, Elfnere did not seem dismayed. “We may be thankful you have come, then, lore-mistress Istlonda. Let us get quarters for the night, for it is late, and we will consult with the Reeve at first light about Nurzum.”
I bowed politely and followed him, realizing we had just played out a scene that would become the basis of a quickly spreading rumor; a Thane has welcomed an Elf into the Wildermore to help deal with a rampant stone giant.
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