Parnard

Miruviel’s eyes widened. “What about the two scholars?” Glancing at Fearanië she added, “I myself have little time to linger beside open windows.”

“One moment, if you please, Elunwe,” Saelril said, a tight-lipped smile on her face. “I still think we take a chance on this elf,” she whispered in Tatharem’s ear. He had approached the two scholars as they stood discussing their plans on the cobblestoned street of the small fishing village, and to their surprise, boldly admitted that he had overheard their conversation and wished to help. 

It was two days after Estarfin, Danel and Parnard had ridden out of Numenstaya, heading, they believed, for the Wildwood. Exactly what the older Noldor and their Wood-elf friend were planning was beyond Fearanië’s ken. She had, of course, offered her help. She would ride with them. But they had said ‘no’ in a clear but kindly tone.

The path was clear of other travellers. The night was still and slightly warm, Tintalle’s stars shone clear and bright. It was no hardship for Estarfin and I to ride down to Celondim. We left our horses at the stables, and walked along the river front. There were only a handful of folk even there. 

We did not see Parnard for the next two days either. It could sometimes be like him to withdraw from company, especially if he was working on something, some article of his dress being the most common. But he had withdrawn after our exchange of words concerning his stolen armour. Was he still angry with us? If such was the case it would be better to attempt more understanding rather than let a coldness descend. 

We did not see nor hear from Parnard the following day. I was not totally surprised. We both knew we had disappointed him, but we could not do as he wished, and help him find his stolen armour in Gondor. 

Having ridden with urgent speed from Celondim, the elf dismounted before his horse could even come to a halt.