We turned into the grounds of Númenstáya to a call from above, a hail from Filignil at her lookout point. “Oh, welcome, welcome back!” she cried, then lowering her bow, turned to run along the ridge to meet us. The sky was at that beautiful point just before dawn, when the eastern edges of our view, over the houses and further hills, were outlined with a pale rose-gold glow. It seemed gentle to me, not a red raging sky promising angry weather later, but a soft dream-cloud evoking scenes of peaceful rest on fluffy pillows and soft beds.
Sleep and safety filled my senses. We could finally be at ease. I pointed down the road before us. “Look! Marawendi had a lantern lit in her window. Perhaps she is awake?”
Parnard peered ahead. “And perhaps she is not. I would not wake her now, and have her see us when we are tired and dusty, but when we are refreshed and ready to speak of our ordeal.”
I nodded, and looked around at the newly reinforced gate, and what seemed to be the finished stone walls that stretched as far round our homestead as I could see from my vantage point.
The horses also perked up their ears, Norlomë gave a gentle neigh to any of her equine friends who were awake, while the stallion Iavas keenly regarded what would be his new home for a while. Parnard slid from his back, stretched his arms, and surveyed the long stone wall. “I hope it is finished,” he said. “I see no sign of the Dwarves.”
Estarfin rode along the wall, smiling as he regarded the stonework. “It looks strong. The gold was well spent.”
I nodded in agreement. Although we had not ridden the bounds of our ‘Sanctuary’, the quality of workmanship was obvious. “I commend Sna and her kin.”
A somewhat disheveled Barahirn was running across the new bridge, heading straight for us. “What a good day this is, that you are all returned safely to us,” he called out, a little more loudly than I wished, fearing that he might awaken everyone. Perhaps that was his intent.
“Shush! Do not rouse the others from their beds just yet,” I said to him. “But it is most pleasing to be home again. We have much to explain, and questions of our own seek answers.”
“The wall is taller than I expected,” Parnard commented. “How are Swan-Hoof and Pelorian? Well, I hope?”
Barahirn replied, “Yes, Lord Parnard. The horses are fully healed from the brigand encounter. They are in the further paddock, and will be so happy to see you. He walked over to Iavas and stroked his neck. “Well met, my new friend. I shall take you there and introduce you, once you are fed and watered.”
Then Filignil was running down the slope behind the houses, a slight look of irritation at being beaten to the punch by Barahirn replaced almost instantly by a look of relief that we had returned. I dismounted to greet her.
She stepped forward and hugged me. “Carnifindë, we have been so worried! Yrill was back some weeks ago, so we knew that you had been rescued, but we heard no word about Lord Parnard’s fate.”
It was good to see her, to know our trust in her keeping Númenstáya safe was not misplaced. Filignil was among the few elves who I would trust with my life.
Then she turned to Parnard, who greeted her with a broad smile. For a moment I think she blushed. Hugging me was one thing, but Parnard and Estarfin? “Lord Parnard, you have been dearly missed. Now perhaps we shall have lively songs and laughter again! There is an abundance of food in the larder, and the cellars are filled with wine, since you have not been here to drink it.” For a moment I thought she was going to hug him too, but her ancient upbringing and sense of propriety restrained her.
Estarfin hailed her, then dismounted from Norlomë. “Well met, Filignil. It is good to be home again.”
She looked at him for a moment, then made a crisp Noldor salute. “Well done, Lord Estarfin. I never doubted for a moment that you would find them.”
“I doubted it many times," he replied. Then he smiled and bowed. Words were unnecessary between two old warriors who recognized each other’s strength and valor.
“I will attend to the horses straight away,” said Barahirn. “I suspect they will appreciate a good rest, too.” He whispered in Iavas’ and Norlomë’s ears, something about a ‘good rub down’, and ‘bran and mash’. They tossed their heads in response, then followed him along the road to the stables.
In silence we watched them round the bend in the road and disappear from sight.
“We are home again, and under starlight no less, even though it is fading to dawn,” said Estarfin his face shining with happiness.
I could not help myself, even though Parnard and Filignil were there to see. I stood on the tips of my toes to wrap my arms around his neck. He was surprised, but then smiled, and put an arm round my waist for a moment.
“Thank you, meldanya, for bringing us back,” I whispered in his ear. “There were times when I struggled to recall this place.”
“Tintallë has been with us, that is for certain,” he replied.
I did not want to let go of him, but it would have been unseemly, and I would not ignore the others. I blushed a little, and nodded toward my house, which was just over the bridge. “Come, let us wash, and sit beside the fire to dry our hair.” Parnard’s hair resembled a dusty patch of black brambles, full of grime and tangled mats, and as he took great pride in his appearance, I suspected that he was glad that only Barahirn and Filignil saw his present state of unkemptness.
For that matter Estarfin’s naturally wild hair had picked up a fair collection of twigs and leaves, as it often did. It, too, was matted in places. I ran my fingers lightly through its length, dislodging what decorations I could.
“There is hot spiced wine and cordial, a venison stew on the fire, and (I know that Parnard will be pleased to hear it) cold roast chicken. We all have taken turns at guard duty, and have kept ourselves busy as we awaited your homecoming. Come and eat and drink, and I shall prepare baths.”
“Give me food and warmth, and I shall sleep where I sit,” said Estarfin, falling in step beside me.
The house looked exactly as I had left it. There was a mouth-watering aroma of stew and a large bowl of mulled wine on the main table.
“Be seated all of you. Tell me what you wish and I shall bring it to you.” Filignil put down her weapons and quiver and busied herself as the consummate hostess she was.
I sat by the fire in my armchair. Estarfin dropped his gauntlets and weapons on the table before sitting. I noticed how closely he watched me, and I smiled.
“There is a letter for you in your room, Lord Estarfin, “Filigil said as she hurried to fill our goblets with the hot wine. “It is from the Dwarf, Sna.”
“He nodded. “I shall look later, unless it is urgent?”
Filignil shook her head. “I do not believe so.”
He turned to watch me again, sinking back into the chair and putting his booted feet up on a side table. “I still cannot believe we are home,” he said.
