We rode on, Estarfin reluctant to leave the Lake under the stars, but knowing that we must. To the left of the track we could see lights aplenty: torches and lanterns shining from the streets and houses of Bree. There was a noise, like a low rumble of a few hundred voices, mostly of Men, but I knew some Hobbit clans dwelt in nearby Staddle, and likely there were some Dwarf merchants or explorers. There was no law forbidding our folk entry, and a few Elves even ventured that way, but never was it many. What attraction could such a place possibly hold?
Once we could smell the place, we knew we were too close, so we turned away and made across the Southern Bree Fields to Andrath. The land thereabouts was dotted with many small ruins of a once glorious age.
“What happened to the folk that dwelt here?” said Culufinnel.
“The Witch-King happened. The Kingdom of Men in Arnor was divided and eventually conquered, the last of its Kings apparently slain.” I spoke part of what I knew. I had been at Fornost with the forces of Lord Cirdan when the Witch King was routed. I remembered. I remembered what came later.
“‘Apparently’ - ?”
“The last known King, Arvedui, perished in the North. The ship sent to rescue him by Lord Cirdan sank in the ice bay of Forochel in a storm.”
Estarfin broke from his star gazing. “Known? You imply there were unknown Kings?”
“I know none bore that title of King in Gondor, or what remained of Arnor. There are prophecies, rumours and some tales that may suggest otherwise. There are yet the ‘Chieftains of the Dunedain’. ”
Estarfin nodded. “Some were fostered by Lord Elrond, yes? But it matters not. The concerns of Men are not our concerns. Returned King or otherwise, they are a most untrustworthy race.”
“That town had thatched roofs and houses, similar to Dale,” commented Culufinnel, changing the subject.
“You have been to Dale, Captain? Yes, I see what you mean. Of the two I prefer Dale by far.” I adjusted my cloak as a cool wind blew down from the mountains.
“Dale is not far from the Greenwood,” he replied. “Our folk trade with theirs.”
Estarfin shook his head.
“Unseemly?” I asked him.
“Indeed.” Then he halted Norlomë and looked above. The sky was clear and bright. “Thank you, Ever-white, if you guided our steps past that place.”
“She has led us true through these lands. There could be many travellers, yet we have encountered none,” I told Estarfin in Quenya, and looked up too, relishing the star-light. “There is the Calacirya!” I pointed.
Estarfin looked in the direction indicated and nodded.
“The Sickle swings bright, ever-ready to give swift justice,” said Culufinnel.
I inclined my head to him, and apologised for excluding him from our converse. “We shall make a better attempt to speak only in Sindarin when you are with us, Captain.”
Estarfin nodded his agreement, then started singing softly to Tintallë. Ever did he say his voice was but passable. He was not among our greatest singers, to be truthful, but to me his singing was one of the most reassuring sounds in all of Arda. He was content, albeit for likely a short time.
Onward we rode, under the starlight, past a couple of distant Mannish camps. They did not notice us, or did not care who we were. Yes, we were all thinking of Parnard, but I was enjoying the beauty around me far too much to consider anything other than a happy conclusion to our journey. The water at Lin Gilliath had washed my body clean, now the starlight and song was doing the same for my spirit. Onward, past fallen hill fortresses, whose dark shadows sometimes reached out to us, as if to draw in any unwary passer by. Perhaps it was Estarfin’s song that kept the gloom away, but I felt as if no darkness could touch me. I was obviously improving in health and mind.
Alternating between walking and cantering was not the fastest way to travel, but it was the surest for the horses’ stamina. On into Ruddymore we travelled, Estarfin falling silent, but still with his eyes raised to the sky. Then, before us opened the wide plain and in the distance on a small plateau we saw the outline of the town - Herne. “I passed this way on my journey from Lindon to Eregion, with the host of Celebrimbor well over an Age ago. The Mannish settlement was not built until latter days, and that by the Men of Bree.” I said. But Iavas was becoming a touch weary of tread, and I thought it time we rested again. “The day will soon dawn. We should rest a while,” I suggested.
Culufinnel, who had become even less talkative the further we travelled, turned off the road and headed towards an old ruin. He glanced over the weathered pillars, their facades long since crumbled away, exposing plain brickwork. Then he called out, “I am Culufinnel, Captain of Celondim,” as a challenge to any who may be hiding among the stones.
“No one answers you. I deem them craven, or simply absent.” I slowed the pace, then halted and dismounted. “There is sorrow on much of this land, though it is not of our folk.”
“The land speaks of bloodshed, the red flowers and the red rocks,” said the Captain, and made a circuit around the ruin, shield out and spear ready, then rode south a short distance.
Estarfin looked unconcerned, regarding the ruin with little interest, and we watched in silence as the Captain wheeled his horse around and returned.
“There is no one near,” he said. “Here we will be hidden from the road, yet still keep an eye upon it for any stragglers that may be following the wagon - or us.”
“Then you saw the wheel tracks continuing down the path?” It would be unlikely for the wagon to veer from its southward path, but I needed to know.
He nodded. “Rest now, but only an hour or two, and no longer.”
I returned to Iavas and poured water from my water skin into my palm for him to drink, then I spoke my mind to the two neri. “It may be prudent to seek out the folk of Herne before attempting any rescue. We cannot make any mistakes where Parnard is concerned.”
Estarfin sighed softly, but nodded his agreement.
“We cannot trust that man, Naraal,” said Culufinnel. “We have seen signs of a passing wagon; do you suspect a false trail?”
“This road is the swiftest to the southern ports. Neither could Zairaphel know any would be following when she set out. But with one such as her, there is always room to wonder.” The Captain’s face darkened, and he seemed ready to spring back on his horse to continue pursuit. “I do not say it is so, only that it is possible,” I quickly added, trying to clarify my concerns. “It is what I overheard at the house. They said they would travel south to Pelargir.”
“Perhaps they spoke falsely, knowing that, should you be rescued, you would be misinformed?” Estarfin pondered.
“Men! They lie so easily,” I said, and all but stamped my foot in frustration. “But we shall know the truth this day, one way or the other.”
Fortunately, this assurance seemed to preserve the Captain’s cool temper, and instead of rushing off, sniffed impatiently at the air. “There are cooking fires rising from several chimneys: the Men prepare to break their fast.”
I looked in the direction of the distant plateau, topped by wooden buildings of Mannish style. “Yes, Captain. Hearn awakens. And we need to meet it in a more alert state than we are.”
Estarfin shrugged, having no idea where Herne was.
“They build their dwellings high, out in the open plain - what folly! They should have built them among the trees.” Culufinnel said. “I shall keep watch. Take rest.”
Estarfin and I moved to the rear of the ruin. It faced east, so that the first rays of Anor fell upon us as we lay upon the grass. We were silent for a moment, then I noticed he was looking sadly at me.
“It pains me that you had to endure what you did,” his voice was soft, his words spoken in Quenya meant for us alone.
I lay a hand on his shining vambrace. Though I understood, I did not want him to be pained, either. “Do not let it distress you, Meldanya. It could have been far worse.” I smiled encouragingly at him. “But you found us: me, Guy and Henepa.”
He leaned against me. “You are fair and proud, and rightly so, but even if your treatment was not wholly evil, you must have feared the worst at times.”
I sighed and lay my head against his shoulder. “The worst? That would be keeping us apart for another six thousand years. If they had just wanted us dead, they would have slain us at the start. They did not. That told us we were valuable in some way. Despite their threats, Parnard kept escaping, and they only restrained him. I told them they may kill us, but they would never control us. I said if they tried anything untoward, I would kill them, or give up my spirit. The two Umbarrim understood, I think, even if the others did not.”
Estarfin looked grieved by the very idea.
I tried to explain it better. “Do not think that I wished to give up my life; I wish to live, particularly now! For yeni I would place myself in danger at need, not seeking death as such, but not desiring life as much as I should.” I paused for a moment. I wanted to get my words right. “Tintallë watches many; I believe she watches us.”
He looked into my eyes.
“She brought us together again after so long, after so many odds. I do not think she would let us be divided now by Men? I trust her…and I trust you.” I smiled a little.
Estarfin sighed. “She cannot govern the will of Men.”
“No, but we Eldar are her people. You and I are her people. She can watch and guide us, if we but listen. She is with us, always.”
There was a smile on Estarfin’s lips, but he looked like one who had wandered in darkness without a guide. I wanted to embrace him then and there, but armour was so prohibitive. I could not share my warmth and growing hope as I wished. Instead I asked, “Do you trust me?” knowing that he did.
“Do you need to ask?” He regarded me with curiosity.
I shook my head and grinned. “Then trust me with this, for you are part of my spirit as much as if we were wed. The Valar do not walk this Middle-Earth in recognised form. Few ever visit. But She sees all, knows those She set the stars for, and sometimes sets a purpose in their hearts. Trials may come, but I believe She wants us to be together, to walk in her light.”
He looked down at my hand on his arm, pondering my words.
“Why would either of us chose to remain lost in darkness, when we have life and light before us?” I wondered if the Kinslayer in him still held him back, still accused him and told him there could be no light for him? But I would not give up. “Meldanya, tell me what troubles you so, and we shall make it right.”
He looked up at me with wonder in his eyes. “My troubles?” he said, and laughed softly.
“These months cannot have been easy for you. Know that this ordeal could have turned me inward, finding little joy in life here, but it has not. I am not Celebrian. Her suffering was far worse than mine. I do not choose to turn my back on life here, on our hopes and plans. I choose life in all its fullness. I choose to be with you.” Had that been enough, I wondered? Had I drawn out the sting?
He smiled happily. “I am glad to hear that. Truely.”
“Though now I need us to find Parnard.”
“That is without question.”
“Even if it means as far as Umbar?” I hesitated, thinking of the sea crossing.
“To whatever end.”
“I shall never leave you short of death, and then I shall wait in Mandos' Halls until you join me, but I look forward to us having full lives on these shores - as full as any Elda could ever hope for.”
He finally removed a gauntlet, and took my hand in his, seeking to reassure me. “I understand.”
I cuddled against the cold armour. “You thought the curse was upon us. That of seeking to wed at such an age? ‘Strange fates’, you said Lord Elrond told you.”
“Do you disagree?” He rested his head against mine, as I casually brushed his wayward hair out my eyes.
“Disagree with Lord Elrond? Never! But I would say he erred in not making clear it can happen, though not to all. Besides, we have passed through our ‘Strange Fate,’ I deem. Neither could I stand before our Prince when the time comes, and say ‘I give up!’ - I am not made of that sort of stuff, and neither are you.”
“I was afraid,” Estarfin said of a sudden.
I pulled our entwined fingers up and placed them over his heart.
“Afraid for you and for Parnard. Alone. I believe our Prince would have understood.”
“You were ever in my heart. I was never alone,” I replied. “Though Parnard is another matter. And fear is not wrong. Letting it control you is the issue.”
We were silent for a moment, watching the hills come alive with colour, and feeling the increasingly cold north wind upon our faces.
“It has, to some extent,” he said.
I kissed his cheek. “When I found you, broken in the Hithaeglir, I was afraid. I thought you could not survive your injuries. But then I cast that thought aside. We would survive, both of us. When you spoke I knew we both wanted life. We have both let fear rule us at times.”
“Fear for each other.”
“We are, alas, each other’s weakness? It is the price of love.”
He nodded.
“When I was young, there were family then friends that I feared for.”
“Yes, but that was different.”
We knew. We were agreed on that at least.
“Rest, dear one. We have a full day ahead.”
Even though thoughts of Parnard’s wellbeing were utmost in my mind, it was easy to sleep in Estarfin’s embrace.
