The Adventures of Elladan's Outriders -- Episode 65

The Wilds of Enedwaith

Sunday, 23rd of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Enedwaith

One of the Shadow-wolves of Enedwaith

The howling wind woke us all quite early as branches creaked and cracked in the gale. A fierce wind was blowing down from the North, driving all the clouds in the overcast sky before them with the threat of rain. As I collected my belongings (or tried to, as several of them kept getting blown away), I hoped the day would not be a wet one.

Breakfast was little more than a biscuit or two while standing amidst the ruins of Echad Mirobel while saying our farewells to Maegamiel, leader of the Elves in that place. He thanked us many times for our assistance in the defeat of the half-orcs the day before, but was disappointed that he could tell us nothing more about their aims or purposes.

"I know naught of these half-breeds," said Maegamiel in disgust, "Save that their coming to Eregion heralds nothing good for me and my people. I hope very much that our efforts against them yesterday will serve as a deterrent to any others which may seek to harry our lands."

"Maintain your vigilance, good Maegamiel," Gaelira told him, "I fear that more evil things than these may be nigh to you, though as yet we know them not."

The Elves watched somberly as we headed south from the ruins in which they had made their homes. The Sun was now fully in the heavens, but the cloud cover remained and this caused the day to be comfortably cool, though the wind would still gust at times. Following an ancient road, we turned this way and that before fording a deep stream. Lagodir was kind enough to allow me to cross while astride his broad shoulders, though he mocked me lightly for refusing to learn how to swim.

Once ashore on the far side, occasional drops of rain began falling, so it was decided we would break for lunch under a nearby clump of ash-trees and see what the weather meant to do. As I absent-mindedly munched some cram in the midst of the howling wind, my thoughts began to wander. What were the half-orcs doing so close to Mirobel? What was the meaning of the black wolf-hides we found everywhere amidst their camp? Had Elrond or Malkan found any trace of Minasse since our departure from Rivendell? And what did Gaelira hope to learn from her mysterious informant in Dunland, to whose abode we were now headed? Finally, what of Inar and the Seekers of the Seven Stars? Were we being hunted even now?

I broke from my reverie and looked around. The faces of my companions were glum and downcast, probably because of the grey and depressing weather. Still, I had been on the road with that bunch long enough to know a great deal about them just from each person's demeanor, so I opened my eyes (as it were) and peered a bit closer.

To the casual onlooker Lagodir would have appeared subdued, even unhappy. But I who had come to know him even in the depths of his life's greatest trials thus far knew that he was in fact lighter of spirit than he had been since we first met. He had lost some of his hulking strength from those days, but his sinews remained hard and his will unbroken. In his eyes I saw both persistence and a renewed sense of purpose.

Drodie might also seem depressed to some, but that would be the mistake of an observer less well acquainted with him than I. He was merely bored -- absent any foe against which to test his will and enhance his glory, he saw little point in doing much else. As he slowly drew a whetstone across the curved edge of his axe, I saw his eyes sparkling with imaginary duels fought and adversaries vanquished. There was no need to be concerned for him.

Nephyn was another matter: our Company is often a quiet lot while on the road (particularly of late, under threat of being followed), but Nephyn could always be counted on to lighten our mood. Today, however, it was as though all power of speech had been taken from her. Even when directly addressed she had done little more than nod or shake her head in response, and I was growing worried for her. I wondered if perhaps the fact that we were headed directly for Dunland (that region being the birth-place of one of her missing parents, you may remember) might have had something to do with this. I could only guess at what sorts of thoughts might be racing through her mind as we marched south.

And then there was Gaelira. She was standing, as she often did, with her staff in hand and her sword at her belt. The wind would whip her raiment and her hair about wildly when it stirred, but she was the same rock I had always known her to be. And yet, despite her solid and determined nature, I could see her eyes searching the horizon -- many questions resounded inside that keen mind to which she had not the answers. I saw in her a sort of metaphor for our entire Company: strong, resolute, and true, yet ever in doubt because of the untiring winds that threaten to overturn us. Those winds are wild and dangerous, blowing from sources unseen and with purposes that we cannot discern, but still our loyalty to each other keeps us on our feet and always moving toward the fulfillment of our quest.

And then a thought flashed into my mind: what now was our quest? For the longest time our goal had been the recovery of the palantir held by Mordirith in Carn Dum. Gaelira had selflessly pledged herself to the recovery and use of that crystal, but now the relic was now lost to us, by all accounts; seized by Amarthiel, as the new regent of Angmar when our plans went so horribly wrong in the North. Since then, our fates had seemed to become interwoven with so many other places and things: Mallacai, Inar, Guloth, Amarthiel, Elrond, Minasse, and others. It was all become rather confusing and I suddenly wondered how long our Company might stick together, if we should lose a common purpose.

But then, as if from outside my own mind, came an image of Luean. Not as I had last seen him, cruelly hewn in the dirt and rubble which littered the floors of Tham Mirdain, but rather in the fullness of life, smiling, and exploring the wide world that he loved. I felt my will hardening within me. We owed our friend that, at least: to find the reason for his murder and bring his killer or killers to justice. The discovery of Inar's message near his body had inspired us to examine the possibility that the Seekers were somehow involved, and that was why Gaelira was leading us away from Eriador but toward her friend in Dunland -- in the hopes that we might learn something of value there. Friendship demanded that we unravel this mystery once and for all.

"Padryc!"

Jolted from my thoughts, I saw it was Drodie speaking to me.

"Are you going to eat our entire store of cram before noon? I thought you hated the stuff?" I suddenly realized I had continued eating absent-mindedly all that time. Sheepishly, I put the food away and wondered aloud whether it was time we were moving on.

The rain never materialized though the weather remained grey and drear. At this point we were hemmed between a rise of steep hills to the west (our right) and the river to the east (our left), so we continued due south between the two. We covered many more miles before halting again. It was not yet dusk, though the sky was just beginning to turn orange, but we were all tired and miserable because the damp air never allowed us to properly dry ourselves after wading through the river (in this situation, I was better off than my companions, having not gotten wet much at all above the ankles, thanks to Lagodir's generous offer). As a result, we decided to end the day's efforts in a little dell which was ringed with trees on all sides.

"This has a nice, cozy feel to it," I remarked as we began to settle ourselves down. "And most convenient! I wish all of our nightly rests could be had under similar accommodations. At least these trees will help to keep out the wind."

"That is my hope as well," said Nephyn, and I was surprised to hear her speak. "Though I would sooner choose a less exposed location. I wonder if we could manage to find a spot further up in the hills?"

"We should have little fear of discovery in this land," said Lagodir. "There are no settlements around us for many miles, or so it was when last I passed this way."

"When was that?" I asked.

"Nigh onto a year ago now," came the Gondorian's reply, "When I made my way north through the Gap of Rohan, among the Dunlendings, and thence into Eriador. I remember well the wide, trackless moors with little succor to be found for a lone wanderer upon the road. Glad am I to be among friends as I walk those paths now a second time, for the journey was a long and lonely one indeed."

There was not much talk beyond this was we all prepared to rest for the night. Lagodir, Drodie, and I were sort of bunched together on the eastern edge of the dell while Gaelira was standing on the lip, peering south. Nephyn, though, had removed herself to the western edge and continued her silent brooding. I wondered very much what was causing her to become so withdrawn.

Suddenly there was a terrible cry from behind us! Turning, I saw the shape of a Man outlined on the crest of the dell against the dimming sky -- his hands clasped a battle-axe over his head as he rushed down upon us! I was too stunned to react properly while Drodie and Lagodir fumbled for their weapons. Gaelira came running, but almost instantly I heard a swzzipp! A brown-feathered arrow sprang from the Man's heart and he fell over, dead. Turning, we saw Nephyn lower her bow.

"By thunder!" Drodie barked, "That was a praiseworthy shot, young huntress. I thought the smelly brute was going to cleave one of us in half before you -- Nephyn?" She had sunk to her knees and her face had lost its colour. We all rushed to her aid.

"Neph!" I cried. "What is it? Are you hurt?"

"I... I...," she stammered, her eyes transfixed on the fallen intruder. "Is he all right?"

"Who? Him?" I asked, bewildered. "I certainly hope not! What was he about, anyway, charging at us for no reason like that? But Neph, what on earth is the matter?"

"It's... I just... for the first time in my life I've finally met someone who looks like me. And I killed him."

I looked back at the corpse and saw she was right. The Man was sturdily built with wild hair and a matted beard, but his skin and eyes were all dark -- there was an obvious kindred between our attacker and our friend, though I thought I could see something a bit different in Nephyn as well.

"I guess I can't argue with you there," I said, more than a bit reluctantly. "Still, you did what you had to, didn't you? He was about to reduce one of us to very small pieces, if he'd had his way; I don't think he brought that axe along as a party-favour."

"The hobbit's got the right of it, lass," said Drodie as he prepared to haul the body off for burial. "Don't you go worrying yourself about this one -- I'll make sure he's taken care of. Erm, buried and all that, of course, but well-hidden, mark you."

"I would... just like to be alone right now, that's all," said Nephyn, and she abruptly left the dell heading west.

"She shouldn't be wandering alone out in the dark," I exclaimed, "What if there are more ruffians out there? Someone stop her!"

"Let her be," said Gaelira. "I will shadow her footsteps and ensure no harm comes to her, but mind yourselves! Keep your eyes and ears open -- and make sure the Dwarf does his job properly." Then Gaelira vanished into the gathering dark while Lagodir made to follow Drodie.

"Those two can fend for themselves," he said to me. "Padryc, you get a fire going and I will return straightaway -- I'd like a look at that body before Drodie makes it disappear." The next thing I knew I was alone at the campsite. I threw up my hands in frustration.

"Why doesn't anyone listen to me?" I griped to the trees, but I did as I was told and soon had a small fire burning at the very bottom of the dell, well shielded from the wind which, though lessened considerably from earlier in the day, would still occasionally gust with some force. Every slight noise had my jumping out of my skin while I remained there alone, but my fears were needless as Lagodir and Drodie returned after only a brief time.

"I could learn very little from our unwanted visitor," said Lagodir as he sat down upon a flat stone. "He was a Dunlending, of that there can be no doubt, and there was nothing particularly remarkable about him."

"What?" I blinked. "Do you mean to say we are in Dunland already?"

"No, that land lies yet many leagues to the south," came Lagodir's reply. "We are only just now on the very borders of the Enedwaith, a rough and borderless country. And that is one point which is certainly curious -- I never knew his kind to be seen so far north of their homeland, which makes me wonder what is afoot there. But also this: when I was last among that people, the males always carried with them some token or symbol of the clan to which they belonged. It is not uncommon with these lesser Men of Darkness (such is the name we have for them in Gondor), and their clans are usually associated with natural things, especially animals: goats, oxen, deer, birds of prey, and so forth. But this Man bore no such token, which I find most unusual."

"And why did he attack us?" I asked.

"Highway robbery, no doubt," growled Drodie with a wave of his hand. "Probably figured one of us would have some gear worth pinching, and he wouldn't be far wrong at that."

"Perhaps," said Lagodir with a frown, but I read in his voice that he was not convinced. I didn't speak my own thought that highway robbery typically involved multiple robbers and, well, a highway -- both of which were notably absent in our case.

I sat there worrying about Nephyn and Gaelira for a while, but eventually they both returned, safe and sound. The remainder of the evening was spent largely in silence as we kept watch in the hopes of avoiding any more unwanted guests.

Monday, 24th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Enedwaith

The day dawned clear and blue, as much a contrast to the day before as one could wish for. We breakfasted quickly, scattered the ashes of our little fire, and moved on with minimal delay. According to Lagodir and Gaelira, both of whom had previously travelled through that land, we should attempt to put as many miles as possible behind us each day since there was little hope of restoring our supplies at any point on the journey. There were few inhabitants along the path, for one thing, but those as did exist were not to be readily trusted -- the allegiances of the Algraig (the Men of the Enedwaith, and even more so of the Dunlendings, from what they told us) were flimsy and fickle; they held the Men of the North as condescending overlords and they feared the Elder Kindred. There was not much we could do to obscure our own identities, of course: the height of Drodie and myself left little doubt as to our kind while no one would ever mistake the bearing of Lagodir and Gaelira for anything other than what they were. Nephyn continued her silence from the day before and cast her hood over her face, yet she alone among us had any real hope of blending in.

We headed south at once, and for all the morning we encountered no difficulties. The land was rocky and uneven, but it was fair in a wild and untamed way which held its own sort of natural beauty. I continued to see the occasional holly-tree, but the sight became more and more isolated until it ceased altogether. Around the noon hour we suddenly came upon a rough track which led up into some hills to our right. We followed this as it wound among several boulders and then discovered ourselves in a set of tumbled ruins atop a low rise.

"Elven-make, by the look of them," said Lagodir, and I was inclined to agree. It must have been an age since any Elves lived there, however, judging from the worn and sad state of those stones which remained, lingering.

We lunched in that place and soon the day began to turn hot. The path we had followed into the ruins did not lead out of them, so we improvised a way down the western slopes of the hills into a ravine in order to continue our journey south. We were surprised to find that direction only led to impassable drops off of cliffs at a depth of fifteen or twenty ells, and these we found constantly to our south and west. Because of this, we were obliged to trek south and east, but soon enough that brought us to trouble.

Being driven by the cliffs to our right, we had just clambered up another small rise when I was suddenly forced onto the grass by Nephyn's firm grip. I saw the entire Company had followed suit, and I wondered what was going on, but I held my tongue. Gaelira signaled that we should all look eastward, and so we did using the greatest of care.

What we saw as we peeped over the edge of the hill caught me rather off guard: there below us in a little depression was an entire camp of Men (and Women, too), quite well-ordered and brimming with all manner of supplies and weaponry. They were Dunlendings, as well as I could make out and, while their numbers were not great, they looked to be a fearsome people. We had very nearly exposed ourselves while coming up over the crest of the hill, but the others' quick thinking appeared to have spared us, for the Dunlendings made no sign they had seen our approach.

"What do you make of that, Lagodir?" I heard Gaelira whisper nearby. Lagodir craned his neck to see the full expanse of the camp in the dell below us.

"Outlaws," he said after a short time. "Deserters, perhaps, but I cannot be certain without a closer look at them and their gear. They are remarkably well-supplied for being this far from any settlement that I can recall. And here again I see the oddity of which I spoke to Padryc and Drodie yestereve: I can see no sign of any banner, token, or charge among them which might declare their loyalties."

"How many?" asked Drodie. I was wondering the same thing, but no doubt for quite different reasons than the Dwarf.

"I count at least three dozen," came Lagodir's reply, "But there may well be more in the hills behind."

"Oh, c'mon, we can take 'em!" said Drodie, the light of battle gleaming in his eyes. Both Nephyn and I shot him an exasperated look, but he paid us no mind.

"Let us not draw blade needlessly," said Gaelira, her voice tinged with confusion. "Like as not this troop has nothing whatever to do with us, nor do they know we are here. The trust borne our ilk by those who inhabit this land is uncertain enough already without exacerbating it through pointless bloodshed. Come -- if we can find some way to head south or east then we can avoid them completely."

After a brief search we did discover a way: there was a gentle rock-slope nearby that we were able to slide down, and from there the land became easier to traverse. We gave the outlaw-camp a wide berth to the east, but then we heard the baying of wolves coming up from the south, ahead of us. This caused us to swerve further eastward yet again, and Gaelira became very anxious because so many unforeseen obstacles were driving us well out of our intended direction.

After a few more hours of heading east or southeast against our will, we spied what looked to be a crude dwelling atop a low ridge of hills. We debated among ourselves whether or not to approach it and beg guidance from the inhabitants, a point over which we were sharply divided. In the end, the ayes carried the vote, and we made our way thither. The place turned out to be a single, large, oval-shaped hut -- the walls were of stone while the roof was thatched. From the tilled earth surrounding it, we surmised we had come upon the humble abode of a farmer and his small family.

As we were pondering this, a Woman suddenly appeared in the entrance to the hut, eyeing us suspiciously. She spoke the Common Tongue well enough, though it was heavily accented, so we were able to assure her we meant no harm and that we only sought the quickest way to travel south. Through word and sign we gathered there was a natural gorge which ran south from her home that would eventually lead over a swift-running river by way of a stone bridge. This path, however, was recently plagued by wolves, for which the Woman had no name that we could recognize. She seemed genuinely afraid of the beasts, and I thought that strange for someone accustomed to living well apart from any large settlement, as she and her family would clearly be.

We thanked her many times for her kindness (in truth, she struck me as being cooperative mostly out of fear, but I'll take that over hostility any day), and we made to leave in peace. Gaelira, in standard Elvish fashion, bowed in respect to the Woman, but in so doing she revealed Nephyn, who had hidden herself behind the rest of us. One look at her, and the Woman flew into a rage: she screamed at us in her own language, motioning for us to be gone before retreating inside her house and slamming the door in our faces. Bewildered, our Company quit the place at once and fled from her lands. I thought it fortunate that her husband or sons (assuming she had any) were not nearby enough to give us any trouble.

The sun was already setting by the time we had put a comfortable amount of distance between us and the aggrieved native. We nestled ourselves among some boulders and prepared to bed down for the night, but each of us was disturbed by the day's events.

"I was surprised to see so many Dunlendings this far to the north," said Gaelira. "Like Lagodir, I never saw anything like it when last I was in this land."

"And what were they doing, I should like to know?" I asked. "Are all Dunlendings so war-like?"

"It is the natural state of their people," said Lagodir, not bothering to hide his contempt.

"One could say the same of Gondor," Nephyn shot back acidly. It was the first time I had heard her speak all day, but her tone shocked me far more than her finally breaking silence. I thought for a moment Lagodir was going to respond, but he merely shrugged his shoulders.

"As unusual as it was," said Gaelira cautiously, "Our encounter with the Algraig Woman at her home was even more confounding, in a way. She did not trust us, of course, and she aided us mostly out of fear, but her sudden change upon seeing Nephyn has me truly perplexed."

"Indeed!" Drodie exclaimed. "I would expect to be shunned in this land, and yet that Woman flies into a rage at the sight of the only one among us who looks anything at all like her!"

"I do not look anything at all like her!" cried Nephyn as she stood. "She is of the Algraig -- I have Dunlendish blood, you stupid Dwarf! Even if none of us speak her tongue, can't any of you see? She is afraid that my people have come to conquer her people, and she hates me for it." Tears starting in her eyes, Nephyn left our circle to sit at the base of a tree some distance off.

Our camp has been a quiet one this evening, and I have had time to ponder the meaning of all that was said earlier. It occurred to me that perhaps some of us had not given much thought to the customs and traditions of the people whose land through which we now travel, but one of our Company traces at least part of her lineage to this region. Nephyn did eventually rejoin us and apologized for her outburst, but the rest of us begged her forgiveness as well for our lack of insight (even Drodie). The huntress tried to act as if the whole episode was of no great moment, but I who knew her best could see she remained deeply troubled.

Trewsday, 25th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Enedwaith

All such issues were largely forgotten by the morning, not least because the howling of the wolves seemed unending during the night. I've heard more than a few wolf-cries in my day; I've even gotten to the point I can distinguish them from Warg-cries, and those are most vile, but what I heard today day in the wilds of the Enedwaith was truly blood-chilling. It was as if the beasts were calling to us with fell-voices which spoke of death.

In the light of day, however, the power of those voices grew less, and we pressed onward following the guidance we had received from the Algraig Woman the day before. As she had told us, the ravine ran in winding ways amidst the hills for many miles, but ever greater grew the sense that something evil was stalking our tracks. It was late morning when we came upon a network of caves in the hills and we knew that we had found the source of those voices.

I will not willingly tell much of what I saw there, for the fear it of haunts me still. The wolves which inhabited that place were unlike any I had ever seen in my life -- and I hope to never see again. They were black, but not black like any ordinary black-furred animal, for even the darkest beast will have subtle variations in their colour. These creatures were as black as jet while the air around them seemed to bend and warp in a frightening way; they were clearly not of the natural world. Their eyes were as piercing as swords, their fangs gleamed with a foul light, but always it was the cries of their mouths which was the most terrifying.

Of our Company, only Gaelira did not wish to leave at once; she insisted that we explore those caverns and discern the source of the monsters. Held by nothing more than her will and our bond of friendship, we dared to enter their den. The wolves fled before the light of her face, but Gaelira did not seek to battle the apparitions. Instead, she discovered the presence of many strange torches on the walls of those caves -- torches which put forth a stench and a dark, impure light that seemed to illuminate nothing. These she threw down and extinguished one by one until the sense of crushing malice around us was greatly diminished, and only then did we emerge gasping into the Sun-filled air once more. We put many miles between ourselves and the dens before halting, but when we asked Gaelira what she thought it all meant she could not give an answer.

"Those spectres were placed there, obviously," she said with downcast eyes, "But by whom or for what purpose, I cannot say any more than you. They may have had something to do with the black wolf-hides we found among the half-orcs, and they may not. We shall have to be content that we may have delayed the designs of their masters, but I fear we have accomplished little else this day."

Hevensday, 26th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Enedwaith

Today was another fair one, such that it nearly erased all memory of the horror we had found in the wolf-dens yesterday. By now it was clear we had been travelling much too far to the east, so Gaelira led us almost due westward. There was some debate as to whether we ought not journey in a southwesterly direction, since the bridge crossing the stream mentioned by the Algraig Woman was supposed to lie that way, and so we would be going in a much straighter line to reach it. The thinking prevailed, however, that if we could locate the Great North Road (which lay somewhere to the west), then we would make excellent time and compensate for our previous detours.

For once I can say our reasoning proved well-founded: the trek back to the west was slow and ponderous, but after a day's travel we have indeed found the Road. We are camped now just a stone's throw from it in a small copse of firs. Tomorrow should be a good day in making up for lost time, assuming the weather holds.

Mersday, 27th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Enedwaith

The weather was outstanding today, as fine as you could ask. We got started early, for we were all eager to put this strange land behind us, and the Great North Road certainly aided in that regard. Despite being of ancient make, the Road ran straight and true, south to north, and it was well-laid and smooth. We must have covered at least fifty miles today, maybe a little more, but I have a curious tale to relate which befell along the way.

It was probably half-past the second hour from noon. The five of us were enjoying the excellent clime (the Road reduced the need for exertion, which made hiking a much more pleasant experience), when from up ahead we heard the most peculiar sound: it was a deep-throated voice singing an odd and lilting ditty, a snatch of which I was able to remember.

Hey! Dain the Dwarf had an iron foot,
His beard was full and long,
His axe of steel and his steed of pork,
Dain's legend lives in song!

Oh, Nain's son, grandson of Gror,
Who founded the Iron Hills,
A stripling young, near Khazad-dum,
Azog the Accursed he killed.

Then armies five clashed on the slopes
Of golden Erebor,
With Elves and Men and eagles swift
Lord Dain rode to war.

The Orcs he smote with crip'ling blows,
They fled before his hand,
Yet Thorin King fell in that fight,
Now Dain rules the land.

Hey! Dain the King has an iron foot,
His beard still full and long,
What means it, to be Ironfoot?
Who cares?! His rule is strong!

There came into view a Dwarf riding a white goat. Most of his raiment was white also, which is an uncommon thing among Dwarves in any land I have ever visited. It was not a leap to suppose he was far from home (since most anyone would be in that land), but his bulging saddlebags and weather-worn cloak belied a well-travelled sort. Drodie was particularly excited to meet a kinsman on the Road, for he sang of the King Under the Mountain and the Iron Hills far to the north and east, so we hailed him. Turning his steed, the Dwarf waved at us and even dismounted to bow when we approached.

"Odec, at your service!" he said. His beard was black as a raven's wing, but his eyes were merry and he smiled broadly at us. "My, my! What would cause such unusual companions to journey along such a lonely road in such a desolate land? No doubt there's a tale worth hearing behind this!"

"I should say there is," Drodie replied, "But I would equally like to know what brings a Dwarf across the endless leagues from Erebor to the same place. No doubt there is a tale worth hearing behind that!"

"Ha! Well turned, kinsman, and I would expect no less," said Odec with a laugh. "But since I perceive behind your question a desire to hide your purposes until you learn of my own, then you shall have your way for I've naught to hide. I hail from the Iron Hills, not Erebor, though I did stop there on my way. I bear a summons from Dain, King Under the Mountain, to his distant but dear friend Nar in Thror's Coomb, which is some ways south and east of where we now stand. There! You now all there is worth knowing about Odec, so what of your own tale?"

"A single messenger dispatched across all that wide distance?" asked Drodie. "I would think the king's words worthy of more... surety."

"I have seen my share of miles, friend," answered Odec with a wink, "Nor am I entirely defenceless." Here, he reached up and patted a compact and cleverly-wrought crossbow which hung from his saddle. "But enough dodging -- come! Tell me who is it I have the pleasure of meeting in this forsaken land! I had taken to composing songs in my boredom, but I would much sooner speak with travelling companions for, as you no doubt heard, mine is not the voice of a minstrel."

We laughed then introduced ourselves one-by-one, starting with Drodie. Odec was very interested in us, but he was courteous and did not press overmuch about our errand since we were obviously not inclined to discuss it in any detail. We walked together the rest of that day (Odec as well, leading his goat by the halter, so as to give his "poor backside" a rest, he said), and the conversation was always lively and interesting. At dusk, we could hear the rushing of water, and Odec said we should halt for the night.

"Yonder lies the Araniant," he said, "The great stone bridge which spans the swift river that divides the Enedwaith into its two chief regions, north and south. Tomorrow we will cross together, but shortly thereafter I shall leave you, for you tell me your errand is to Dunland and the south while my duty takes me eastward."

He led us off the Road into a thicket, and there we made camp. We exchanged stories of our respective travels deep into the night, with each subsequent tale being more incredible than the last. I finally drifted off to sleep with visions of Dwarf-battles and greedy dragons racing through my mind.

Highday, 28th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Enedwaith

We crossed the Araniant first thing in the morning without trouble. On the southern side of the river the trees suddenly failed, and all the land before us wide, flat, and empty. The winds swept over all that bare country while the tall grasses swayed this way and that at its will. We continued along the Road a bit further but, as he had said before, Odec was obliged to part ways with us shortly thereafter.

"Crossing paths with you lot has been the most pleasant thing that's befallen me on this long journey since I feasted at the King's table beneath the Lonely Mountain," he said. "I dearly hope we might do so again, as unlikely as that might seem." Raising his hand in farewell, he turned his goat off the Road and slowly disappeared into the East, his deep voice merrily rolling back over the plains toward us as he sang.

"Nice chap, what?" I said as I watched him go. "It's a pity we don't meet more folk like him on our travels. Can't say I would mind hearing his storytelling more of an evening, though they did tend to be a bit gory and somewhat more, ah well, Dwarvish than I would normally go in for."

"That's only because you didn't get the full experience," said Drodie with a grin. "What you were missing was a few mugs of ale inside you. Then you'd be in the right spirit!"

Our Company was in fine spirits indeed the rest of that day as we continued south along the Road. Near the end of the day, we saw a rising hill up ahead and to our right, atop which was a crude wooden palisade.

"That is one of the few settlements one will find in the Enedwaith," said Lagodir as he pointed. "It is called Lhanuch by its people, the Algraig, if my memory serves. We should be able to avoid being seen from its walls if we turn east and keep among the tall grasses there."

"It would be my counsel that we avoid them not," countered Gaelira. "We have seen much which is mysterious in this land, and I would endeavor to find some answers to our many questions. What better way to do so than by walking among those who know the land best?"

"I do not think this counsel is good," said Lagodir, "But I am willing to adventure it, if it be your advice. Still, I would think it best if Nephyn not enter there -- let her and Padryc remain outside the walls so that none of us are left alone, while you, Drodie, and I attempt to treat with these Men."

I was afraid Nephyn might take offence at Lagodir's suggestion, but in fact she seemed to think it wise. We took up position just out of bowshot from the walls of Lhanuch behind a shallow rock-wall and waited for our companions to return. The shadows lengthened while we sat there, but our fears proved needless when the three of them rejoined us just as dusk was filling the sky.

"The people of Lhanuch were not hostile," Gaelira reported, "Though they do not trust us and gladly accepted our offer to camp outside their walls tonight. We told them only that we are journeying swiftly as may be through the Enedwaith and mean them no harm. They were even willing to sell us what meager supplies are among their stores, although at exorbitant prices."

"Hmph! Some hospitality," I huffed. "I'll be perfectly happy out here, thank you very much."

"You and I are in agreement on that point, Master Hobbit," said Lagodir. "Still, our visitation was not without its value. We learned that many companies of Dunlendings and also half-orcs have passed north through the Enedwaith of late, though of course that we knew already. What interests me is that the Algraig speak of unrest in Dunland and the splintering of the tribes there. Personally, I welcome these tidings: if the enemies of Rohan have become less united, then perhaps their feud with the Rohirrim, true-hearted allies of my people, may at last come to its long-awaited end. Like as not the unmarked troop we saw two days' past was a company of deserters even as I had said at the time: Men who are dissatisfied with the shifting politics of their folk. Perhaps the Dunlendings are become split on whether they should continue to pursue their hopeless conflict against the Horse-lords? Indeed, it must be so, for what other foes have they? I deem this good news for Gondor and Rohan, and therefore good news for the Free Peoples."

"I do not agree," said Gaelira, shaking her head. "If the loyalties of the Dunland tribes have indeed begun to fracture, then why now? Have not they maintained their hatred of the Rohirrim for many lives of Men? What has happened to cause this shift of which you speak? I sense an ill-meaning hand in this matter, but the mind which guides it is hidden from me. Be that as it may, the three of us should be able to secure some additional foodstuffs to restock our supplies in the morning, ere we go."

We spent the night in silence, each busy with his or her own thoughts. It seemed we were walking straight into the land of a combative folk that were in the midst of some sort of upheaval. I think that I, like Nephyn, will try to keep a low profile for the foreseeable future.

The Adventures of Elladan's Outriders -- Episode 64.2

Return to Mirobel

Sterday, 8th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
The High Moor, Somewhere in the Trollshaws

A mysterious encampment

The next morning began overcast and dreary, which was a perfect mirror of my own feelings at having to leave Rivendell yet again. We gathered in the courtyard of Elrond's House to bid him and many of his household farewell (Mr. Baggins was there too; he made me promise to bring back a sketch of something called a gwirod, but I was never able to gather from his rambling exactly what one is), then we hoisted our packs and the journey began. There was no fanfare or pomp during our departure -- to me, it felt as if we were off to the butcher's to grab a side of beef and we were expected home before lunch.

In reality, of course, we were setting out for Dunland, a remote and harsh land somewhere well south of the Doors to Moria. My knowledge of that region was as sparse as its population -- from what I could gather according to my companions -- and I'm still not entirely sure whether its inhabitants are to be trusted. Still, our arrival there is some weeks off, so there's no point in worrying about such things now.

The air was damp and stuffy as we climbed up, up, up the winding pathway which led out of the Valley. The grey, overcast skies delayed the onset of the day's heat, but the humidity had us all sweating and blowing long before we reached the Gates of Imladris and passed onto the High Moor. At that point (this would have been roughly ten in the morning, more or less), we suddenly saw breaks in the clouds, and before long the Sun was shining through with her full force. The combination of wet air and hot Sun with no wind had me in a misery for hours, and I think the others felt it too, for we managed fewer than twenty miles the remainder of the day, including more rests than usual. Some of these were deliberate, I later realized, as Gaelira was eager to protect the health of Lagodir, who was still newly recovered from his previous travails.

We ended up settling down for the night rather earlier than usual: it was probably little more than the fifth hour from noon when we began seeking a cool place to rest, and once we had located a suitable copse of fir-trees we wasted no time in bringing the day's efforts to a close. I ended up making us a campfire in spite of the heat because the insects have been merciless: they are after the salt in our perspiration, and the smoke helps to keep them away. No one has spoken much all day.

Sunday, 9th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Near the Ford of Bruinen, Somewhere in the Trollshaws

Yesterday's clouds burned away in the early morning to leave the sky high, dry, and hotter than before. We did our best to travel under the boughs of whatever trees we could find, but even still the day was long and uncomfortable. If you've ever found yourself in a similar situation, you know that speaking is never high on your list of things to do; it's hard to concentrate on anything besides your burning skin, dripping forehead, and leaden feet.

We reached the Ford of Bruinen about the third hour after noon, and the crossing was the highlight of the day. The water was clear and cool as we splashed merrily through, reinvigorating our tired limbs. On the far bank, the trees grew much more densely, and we were able to relax in their pleasant shade. The time came to move on, but none of us had any desire to go further that day, so we delayed, delayed, and delayed our departure some more until it became obvious our Company was going no further before dawn. Instead, we settled down to a cheerful fire and a hearty meal of beef and carrot stew (served up by P. Pemberton!), of which no one turned down seconds.

Our bellies filled, we lazed about the campfire and waited for night to close in. Gaelira kept insisting we would need to march twice as long tomorrow to make up for the time we had lost today, and we all somberly agreed to do so, but of course none of us really meant it. To change the subject, I started chatting about all the strange and wonderful creatures we had seen on our journeys together -- Bleakwind and Brullug, the Bone Man, the Chetwood Warg, and others. Then Lagodir told us of the marvellous fauna one could find in his homeland, far away to the South. Drodie would hint at incredible beings which inhabit the deep places of the world, and soon we all realized that Middle-earth was fair teeming with amazing things in every crack and crevice. We also began to think at how magnificent were the ordinary, everyday animals of our own mundane lives, only they ceased to seem so through familiarity. Of these, horses appeared to capture everyone's fancy the strongest, and not (I think) only because we all wish we owned some after two days' walking in the hot Sun!

"Oh, how I love horses," said Nephyn wistfully, "Always have. They seem like such noble beasts."

"That's because they are, in truth," said Lagodir. "The Men of Gondor, at least those who do not travel far from home, see little of animals as they have never been kept in our lands in great number -- aside from oxen and the like. But I have been to Rohan, land of the Horse-lords, and there I have seen creatures of such majesty that I find it scarcely fitting to call them horses and not some grander name. Some of them I would swear can think as sharply as you or I; you can see it in their glance."

"What a wonder!" said Nephyn, truly enthralled. "How I wish I could meet one! Do you think our travels might ever take us to Rohan?"

"It is possible, I suppose," answered Lagodir. "Every step we take southward leads us nearer to the wolds of the Mark where Theoden rules in peace and contentment. When our adventures have run their course, I plan to return there in quiet retirement."

"A little young for that aren't you?" Nephyn scoffed. "You don't look a day over thirty to me -- hardly more than three or four years my senior, I would say."

"I have seen my share of seasons," Lagodir replied with a grin. "This year began my eight and fiftieth upon this Middle-earth."

"What!?" Nephyn and I cried together. "How?"

"The blood of Numenor runs nearly true in my veins as it has in all the House of Turma before me," Lagodir replied. "Such was the will of the Valar when they gifted Numenor to my people and Elros, their first king, in ages long past. Did you not say your mentor, the one we met at the Prancing Pony named Saeradan, was a descendant of the North Kingdom? How old is he?"

"Why, he's --" Nephyn began to answer, then blinked. "You know, I don't think I ever asked him. He was always a grey-haired Man so long as I knew him -- I just never thought about it, I suppose."

"I expect he is a good deal older than you might take him for," said Lagodir. "The first king of Numenor lived to be five hundred years old and that lineage lives still in this world, though much has changed since those days."

"In any case you're remarkably well-preserved for someone your age," said Nephyn. "I must be little more than a child in your eyes."

"No more than I would think Padryc a child," answered Lagodir.

"That's appreciated," said Nephyn, "Though he is older than me, aren't you, Pad?"

"By about ten years, yes," I nodded and pointed to my chest. "Thirty-seven, or will be next month, anyway. Still, I only just 'came of age' (as we say in the Shire) a mere four years ago."

"Ah, yes -- I once heard about this from some Staddle-hobbits, I think," said Nephyn with a bright gleam in her eye. "You hobbits have a peculiar stage you call the tweens, do you not?"

"The irresponsible twenties, yes," I chuckled. "You can't trust any tween to not be up to mischief, really."

"Yourself included?" she asked me. "I'd wager you were a rascally youth!"

"Oh, not me!" I said with a laugh. "Not much of a handful at all, really, aside from giving my old dad a bit of trouble around the farm. There's not much mischief one can get up to when one's life revolves around the growing and selling of pipe-weed."

"That sounds like the perfect place to get into some mischief, if you ask me," smiled Nephyn. "What about your friends?"

"Well, there was this one hobbit I used to tease something awful, if I'm honest," I admitted. "Me and pretty much everyone else too, really."

"Padryc!" the huntress said reproachfully, "I would have never though you to be the bullying sort."

"Ah, well, I feel bad about it now, of course," I said, "Though it was the kind of thing we all did. And he was a very disagreeable sort of chap too."

"That doesn't make it right," she said. "What was his name?"

"Lotho," I replied. "Sackville-Baggins, but we all used to call him 'Pimple' due to his... unfortunate complexion."

"Hmph! I'm disappointed in you, Pad," she said, though her voice was light and playful. "I know what it's like to be put off due to appearances; if I am ever blessed with children, they will be taught to never make fun of others for things beyond their control."

"Well, things have a way of working themselves out, you know," I sighed. "You see, it was Lotho's dad Otho what bought out my dad's farm when that whole situation with the will wasn't properly handled. And then Lotho got it all through inheritance when Otho passed on five years back, so I got my comeuppance, one might say. It just goes to show you: don't make fun of others because... well, you just never know."

"Sound advice. I'd regale you with stories about my own social challenges, but if I did we'd likely all be sitting here til there was snow piled up around our chins. Drodie!" she called to the Dwarf as he took a pull on his ale-skin. "Did anyone ever make fun of you as a --"

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP!

"Never mind," Nephyn said as she rolled her eyes and cleared the air in front of her with her hand. "I suppose Gaelira's childhood was so long ago she couldn't be expected to remember much. What about you Lagodir? You look like you would have been a tall and sturdy youth -- I'd wager you never had to deal with such things."

"Not like what you describe, no," he said grimly, "But I had troubles of a different sort: my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was a traitor to Gondor. He revealed a secret entrance beneath Minas Ithil to the servants of the Nameless One, and it became Minas Morgul."

"That's awful!" I cried. "Did your ancestor have a choice in the matter?"

"Yes, by all accounts," Lagodir replied. "At least, by what few accounts there were -- tens of thousands died when that city fell. Which is not the sort of thing your countrymen tend to forget, not even after more than nine hundred and fifty years have passed."

I suppose I don't have to tell you the conversation rather dried up after that. Gaelira had kept silent during our discussion and remained standing with her staff, staring out into the gathering dark. Night descended and we all slowly drifted off to sleep.

Monday, 10th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Tal Bruinen, Somewhere in the Trollshaws

Another hot, long, boring day of marching. Today wasn't as bad, though, since we have been following the banks of the Bruinen, so every now and then we get to dunk our heads into the river to cool off. Judging from experience, it should be few more days yet before we pass into Eregion. It's Drodie's turn to cook tonight, which is always an... enlightening experience.

Sterday, 15th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Eregion

It's been five days since my last entry and a full week since we left Rivendell. There really is nothing significant to report -- the land looks just as empty and sprawling as it did the last time we travelled through it, only now the summer weather has definitely arrived. We spent last night in some old ruins near an overlook. Elven, they seemed to me, but clearly abandoned long ago. Tonight we are camping in a thicket of holly-trees and Gaelira has ordered that we light no fire, so supper will have to be a cold one. I have no idea why she's worrying -- there's nothing going on around us for miles.

Highday, 21st of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Eregion

We've been walking south for another six days now and I am bored out of my mind. Unlike last time when we were headed for Moria, this time we are trying to take a more south-westerly track. Well, going this way, the holly-trees quickly end and there's nothing but flat, empty plains almost as far as the eye can see. Gaelira has asked that we keep our speech to a minimum, and today even I can feel how quiet it is here. It is a bit unsettling, actually.

It is now dusk. We just reached the Sirannon, but we are still too far to the east. Tomorrow we will have to travel west along the road and I'm told we should reach the Elves of Mirobel around noon. I wonder if we will have time to stop and visit Luean's grave?

Sterday, 22nd of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Echad Mirobel, Somewhere in the Land of Eregion

We made good time: by my reckoning it was about half-past eleven when we strode into the ruins of Mirobel above the Sirannon's dry river-bed. The Elves' leader Maegamiel (who remembered us fondly from our previous visit) welcomed us with a smile, but we soon learned he and his people were disturbed by something going on near their settlement. He escorted us up a flight of crumbling stairs into a ruined tower, then pointed to the south.

"Is that a tent?" I asked as I peered out from under my hand. "I'd swear it wasn't there the last time we came this way."

"It was not," said Gaelira gravely. "Maegamiel, what kind are they that encroach upon you?"

"The pavilion was pitched during the night," Maegamiel replied. "They appear to be Men to our eyes, though we have not the skill, maybe, to tell one kind of mortal from another. Moreover, they are many and my people are very few. We were in council among ourselves when you arrived this morning; I was hoping you might help us decide what should be done?"

We agreed to lend our assistance, so Maegamiel began telling us everything he knew so far about the strange interlopers. During the conversation, however, two of his people returned from scouting the camp and reported their grim findings.

"They are Men," the scouts told us, "But they are dour-faced, swarthy brutes the like of which we have never seen before. They show no love for the growing things about them; they cut far more living wood than they could possibly need, even for as many as they are."

"But what are they doing?" Gaelira asked. "What brings them so close to your home?"

"We have not been able to discover their business," came the response, "But they are not hunters, for we see no trace of bow or shaft anywhere among all their equipment. There is one curious thing: encircling the camp are tanning racks, and they are laid many hides, drying in the Sun."

"Tanners?" Lagodir asked, confused. "Since when do tradesmen live, travel, or work anywhere near this place?"

"Not since the fall of Moria, an age ago," said Maegamiel with a frown. "There is something evil afoot in this, I doubt it not. Still, they have done us no insult or injury, and I would not risk battle when my own people are so few in number. What shall we do?"

"Let us try them in this manner," said Gaelira. "Have your folk hidden in the rocks and trees nearby, for in their keen eyes and true arrows we shall have the advantage (Nephyn and Padryc, too, will be among you). Meanwhile, Lagodir, Drodie, and I will go down and present ourselves peacefully to the camp. You shall judge how to deal with them from their reception of us."

"So be it," said Maegamiel. "But pray they have no crossbows among them, or other means of doing you harm from a distance."

We took some time to arrange our meager forces as Gaelira directed. Nephyn and I were positioned with Maegamiel atop a rocky outcropping where we were all but invisible behind a large boulder. Looking around, I could see some of Mirobel's folk stationed in various spots with their longbows at the ready. When all was prepared, Gaelira, Drodie, and Lagodir strode boldly out through the grass and within a stone's throw of the strange camp. It was far enough distant that I could not make out the words spoken, but I saw Lagodir raise his hand, palm outward, in sign of peace. Almost immediately, at least two dozen rough-looking figures emerged from inside the tent, all of them bearing a weapon of some sort. The tallest among them, who seemed to be the leader, gave a cry and his fellows rushed toward my companions, their weapons held high!

At once I heard a great whoosh as a dozen Elf-bows twanged. Half of the attackers instantly collapsed while the remaining ruffians stood there, dumbfounded. My friends charged their attackers as a shout went up from our forces and we all moved in. The battle was swift and deadly -- our enemies were utterly destroyed.

"Curious behaviour for a bunch of tanners, wouldn't you say?" laughed Drodie. "At least they showed some heart -- at first. May all of our victories not come so easily! I never even had the chance to shake the rust from my axe."

"These are half-orcs you have here, Maegamiel," said Gaelira as she turned over one of the fallen. "From what land the came I know not, but their business could not have been for our benefit."

"Whatever it was that brought them here, we might never know now," I said as I trotted up to the battlefield. "You lot did your job a bit too well there -- not a single one of them left alive to question!" We double-checked the damage to make sure, but I had spoken the truth. Even the leader, a great, brutish thug with a leering mouth full of large and rotting teeth, had been pierced through the neck by one of Nephyn's grey-feathered shafts. We decided to examine the camp and saw, as the scouts had told us, that the entire camp was indeed circled by tanning racks. On these were stretched the hides of...

"Wolves?" asked Nephyn as she cocked one eyebrow. "Are there wolves in this land? I don't recall seeing -- or hearing -- a single one either time we've travelled the length of Eregion."

"Then I trust you have not journeyed near Torech Andraug," said Maegamiel, "For that is a large wolf-den in Eregion. However, it lies far to the north and east of here and the beasts of that region are brown-furred whereas these hides are black as coal. I cannot say whence they might have come. Warg-packs sometimes roam these lands, but no one could possibly mistake these for Warg-pelts: they are much too small and lack the coarseness of their evil cousins."

"Indeed," said Lagodir. "Fortunately, your people are safe and our Company is used to seeing riddles such as this. Perhaps we will find answers as we continue our journey south."

"If you do, I hope you will find some way to inform me," said Maegamiel. "We are not accustomed to having armed neighbors with strange habits such as this. Whither do you sojourn, Gaelira?"

"To Dunland," the she-Elf answered, "To find answers to our own little riddles."

"I see," Maegamiel replied with a grin. "Then you are welcome to rest at Echad Mirobel in honour, for it was your assistance, and that of your friends, which may have spared my people much grief. Unless, of course, you wish to put more miles behind you before sundown?"

"No, I think our journey for today is done," said Gaelira. "I know our Company would like very much to visit the resting place of our friend Luean ere we depart."

"And in any case we should destroy this ramshackle tent," said Drodie. "It wouldn't do to leave it laying around in case this lot has friends that might come looking for them later."

Everyone agreed this was sound counsel, so we spent a few hours dismantling the half-orcs' camp. Although we went through every piece of debris there was, we never learned anything more about their purpose. And in all the wreckage no one found any sign of hunting gear: no bows, no arrows, nothing. I could tell this fact disturbed everyone a great deal, especially Gaelira, but I couldn't make head nor tails of it myself.

Finally, the work completed, we accompanied Maegamiel and his people back to their settlement. There we were treated to an excellent meal and singing under the stars. As the night deepened, the five of us made our way down to the library of Tham Mirdain. There, just beyond the ancient doors of that place, we stood in silent respect for Luean, our lost companion. No one spoke, but we all remembered him fondly, for he was a true friend and a happy soul. One by one, we each slowly turned away until it was only Nephyn and myself remaining, hand-in-hand. The stars overhead were burning brightly, and I thought about how Luean, like so many of his kind, loved them dearly. I found no words to say, but I gently squeezed Nephyn's hand and left her to begin returning to Mirobel. As I walked away, I heard the young Woman's whisper carried to my ears by the gentle night breeze.

"I'm sorry Luean," she said, "We haven't found your killers yet." I walked on.

"But we will."

The Adventures of Elladan's Outriders -- Episode 64.1

A Time for Recovery

Mersday, 6th of Afterlithe, Year 1418 Shire-reckoning
The Last Homely House, Rivendell

My attempt at sketching the Last Homely House from the pine-woods

Yesterday marked a fortnight since Lagodir was cured by Elrond here in Rivendell. The time since was mostly filled with patient anticipation as we waited for our friend to regain consciousness, although much else was done in the interim as well. Most of it would likely bore you though, Dear Reader, so I will only attempt the briefest summation of those days.

You may recall from my previous entry that Gaelira had been going in and out of Elrond's House repeatedly without explanation. I eventually did ask her why, and the answer was simple and obvious when I heard it: Hremm, our raven-friend, had of course taken up permanent residence in that valley (I myself had forgotten this at the time), and Gaelira had simply been searching for him because she wished to gather news as to whether Minasse or Mallacai had been sighted anywhere near his nest. Neither had, unfortunately, nor had there been any word from Malkan the eagle. This lack of information put Gaelira (Nephyn too, I later discovered) a bit on edge, and they pressed Elrond several times for tidings. Yet, each time they did so, the Elf-lord would only tell them to be patient -- that grim counsels would be the order of the day soon enough and there was no need to hurry them -- and that we ought to wait for Lagodir's return out of respect for his sacrifice in any case.

And so we busied ourselves with other tasks: Drodie was put in charge of our equipment, I managed our stores of food and medicine, Nephyn could often be found rummaging through old maps in the library, and Gaelira tried to learn all she could of Amarthiel, Narchuil, the palantir, and the movements of the Enemy's forces in the North. I believe she had also resolved to track down Luean's murderers and do them justice, and she became rather unapproachable when the right mood was on her.

For myself, I tried to leave such gloomy things to the others. I never tire of residing in the Last Homely House, no matter how long I remain at a stretch nor the number of times I go back, and the oftener we do the happier I am. The first few days I slept quite a lot, exhausted as I was from our long journey through Hollin, to Moria, and back, but after that I did try to spend my time more wisely. I made an effort to study some maps alongside Nephyn, but the vast distances and expansive regions had me rather outside my reckoning, which rendered me of little help. Then I tried learning about Rivendell's history -- I reasoned this would be something that would hold my interest -- but there turned out to be so much to learn that I quickly dropped it. I even engaged old Mr. Bilbo on the matter, but he has the habit of constantly falling asleep in the middle of a thought and by the time you can wake him back up and resume the conversation you end up covering the same topics over and over again, so I gave up. In the end, I spent a good deal of this time wandering through the parts of Imladris I hadn't yet seen, and that was more than enough for my contentment. I even attempted to sketch a view of Elrond's House from the rear, from among the pine-trees which grow on the hills behind it, although my efforts hardly do the real thing justice.

But today at last, around the noon hour, Lagodir awoke. We were summoned to Tham Send (the Room of Rest's proper name, Lindir told me) where we fawned over him for a good while, much to the Man's dislike. After a time, Elrond himself joined us, telling us how pleased he was to see our friend recovered following so many trials. He also asked that we see him in his study tomorrow, where we shall discuss many things.

A feast was held earlier tonight in celebration of Lagodir's recovery as well as the final defeat of Guloth. It was a merry time, but also quite draining (as such things can be), so I am only taking just enough time now to finish off this entry before I turn in. I hope tomorrow will bring us answers to our many lingering questions.

Highday, 7th of Afterlithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
The Last Homely House, Rivendell

I was up early, refreshed and ready for whatever the day might bring. The five of us breakfasted quickly, then made our way to Elrond's library, where we found the Elf-lord awaiting us. There commenced a lengthy council in which much was debated and discussed, but I will not record everything said here as it took almost the entirety of the day. There were, however, several key points which necessitate a more detailed recounting.

"Some time ago I spoke to you concerning the Man called Inar and his place within the Seekers of the Seven Stars," Elrond said to us, "At the time I did not tell you all that I knew, for the recovery of your friend was of greater import. Now, however, your Company is hale and whole once more, and so I deem the time is right to divulge more fully my knowledge of this matter." I squirmed a little as the ominous words we had discovered on the slip of paper near Luean's murdered body ran once more through my mind.

"No doubt Gaelira has told you what she knows of the Man himself," Elrond went on, "But I shall tell you what Mallacai knew of him, for he sought counsel of me concerning Inar's zealotry on numerous occasions. He is known as Captain Inar; ever has he sought ways to attack the forces of Darkness wherever he found them, and always would he lead such forays himself. Although never large in number, his followers have, under his leadership, struck many critical blows against the servants of the Dark Lord throughout Eriador, often working in concert with the Rangers and even my own folk at times. He is a gifted and inventive commander; a charismatic leader with the ability to inflame the souls of others and rally them to his cause. Yet his successes (combined, I think, with the naturally brief span of years which is the Gift of Men), has hardened his heart with impatience and with pride. As our Enemy continues to grow in strength, the hearts of many darken with despair, and so their minds are led down evil pathways, though they themselves may not perceive it. I fear such a fate has befallen Inar and, great though his service to the Free Peoples has been throughout his long life, he has fallen at last into folly using his newfound strength in ways which harm the very folk he believes himself to be protecting. Despite my warnings, he was continually promoted within the kinship, for the elders deemed his victories worth the costs he exacted in freedom. Mallacai and I disagreed on many things, but we both feared what might transpire were Inar to someday gain the power he sought. Indeed, it has been chiefly this very issue which has made me reluctant to support the Seekers' efforts in recent years, and now I fear that very thing has come to pass."

"You believe this Inar has taken control of the Seekers of the Seven Stars?" asked Gaelira. "How could this have befallen without my knowledge? Or yours, for that matter?"

"Your own thought has been elsewhere, Gaelira," Elrond replied. "And I, too, have other matters which require my attention. However, I think we can deduce that Inar's rise to power was handled quietly and with discretion, thereby remaining unknown to most except those closest to it. In any case I can think of no better explanation for Mallacai's sudden disappearance -- he seems to have vanished from the North of Middle-earth."

"But what does he fear?" I asked. "Couldn't Mallacai and Inar simply sit down and hash it all out?"

"I am not certain myself, so I will not pass judgment now," said Elrond. "Suffice it to say that Mallacai considered himself in enough danger that he went into hiding, even to the point of not informing the five of you, for whom he had a great deal of respect, unless I miss my guess."

"I, for one, don't care how dangerous Inar may be," said Nephyn, her cheeks flushing red. "We've faced greater foes before -- I will be reckoning with him and anyone else that had anything to do with Luean's passing!"

"We do not know that he was involved," Gaelira cut in.

"Do not let anger cloud your mind," said Elrond calmly. "If you wish to pursue such a path then I will not hinder it, only recall that Inar now has a great deal of resources at his command -- he may well find you before you find him."

"Good!" laughed Drodie, "Then our search will be a short one. I like it when things proceed without undue delay, as any of Inar's lackeys will learn should they try and delay me introducing my axe to his face."

"Caution might still be prudent counsel, nonetheless," said Lagodir as he grinned. "That said, it may be worth running the risk to confront Inar directly and hearing what he has to say. However, there is also the matter of our missing companion."

"Truly," Elrond agreed. "That Minasse never crossed the bounds of Imladris is unsettling. And there is this also: Luean's mission to learn of Narchuil's fate met an untimely end, raising the spectre of Amarthiel over all. It seems there are many paths which now lay before your feet, my friends."

"Yet only one can our feet walk at a time," Nephyn sighed. "How shall we answer this riddle?"

"Personally, I can't make heads nor tails of --" I began to say, but at that moment the doors to the library opened to reveal Lindir, Steward of Rivendell.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord," he said to Elrond, "But you asked to be informed at once should the eagle named Malkan return to Imladris. He is perched now just outside your doors."

"How fortuitous!" said Elrond with a smile. "It seems Fate grants us her favour once again. Shall we?"

Moments later we were all standing on the path which led down from the doors to Elrond's House. It was as fine a day as you could ask, with just the right number of puffy white clouds hanging lazily overhead in a field of profound blue. We were now well into summer yet it was not too hot, and the little seedlings of dandelions were floating past us like merry soap-bubbles on a wash-day. There in front of us, perched on a low tree-branch, was Malkan.

"Malkan!" called Gaelira excitedly. "How good it is to see you again, my friend! And look at how excited he seems! He must bear us news worth hearing."

"Excited?" I echoed as I inspected the eagle from a distance. "What do you mean? He hasn't moved a muscle yet -- if he were carved from stone like the very pillars in this courtyard I could scarcely tell the difference!"

"Nonsense," Gaelira chafed as she pointed. "That is just the natural stoicism of his kind. Mark you not how he grips the branch and his eyes blink rapidly, eager to tell us what he knows?"

"If you say so," I muttered. We approached the tree, but suddenly Malkan screamed at us and took to the air; he alighted again on some nearby stone-work, higher up and further away.

"What's this about?" I asked. "Malkan! You remember us, don't you?" I felt a bit silly talking to a bird, but even I could see he was glaring at us reproachfully, as if we had done him some insult.

"The four of you come stand by me," Elrond instructed us from the porch of his House. "And allow Gaelira to consult with him unaccompanied. He serves her at the command of Gwaihir, his lord, and so his words are for her ears alone."

"Quite particular, isn't he?" I snickered, but the others paid me no heed; they were watching the eagle and the she-Elf as they conversed for several minutes. At length, Malkan flew off and Gaelira returned to us.

"Malkan has found no trace of Minasse, and so I have begged him to keep looking," she told us, "But he did spy Mallacai on the road south, accompanied by an Elf-maid and a deep-bearded Dwarf. Malkan descended to speak with them and he returns now with a message."

"A message from Mallacai? That's excellent!" I cheered. "But such an odd company! Who are the other two and what are they doing?"

"I do not know their names," Gaelira replied, "But apparently they are among the few who remained loyal to Mallacai when... when things changed."

"What do you mean?" asked Lagodir. Gaelira sighed deeply.

"Mallacai was removed as Leader of the Seekers of the Seven Stars and the elders voted to install Inar in his place," she said. "It seems Inar and the elders blamed Mallacai for the rise of Amarthiel in Angmar."

"Short-sighted fools," Lagodir seethed. "Mordirith or Amarthiel -- do they not realize that any who would rule that dark land works only the will of the One who sent them?"

"There's more," Gaelira went on. "The kinship also accuses Mallacai of operating a grand scheme to overthrow the Steward of Angmar, seize the palantir, and set himself up as tyrant in Carn Dum. They say he conspired to do this with the aid of a band of misfit adventurers... known as Elladan's Outriders."

"What?!" I cried. "That's lunacy!"

"From what Malkan tells me, Inar's agents are hunting everywhere for Mallacai; they intend to capture him and try him for 'heresy,'" said Gaelira, her teeth on edge. "They have no right to to do this! Setting themselves up as some kind of perverted court of justice -- I will see this corruption ended, by my own hand, if need be!"

"Let your thought remain clear, Gaelira," said Elrond firmly. "Was there anything else in Mallacai's message to you?"

"Only that he now travels south," she replied after taking a breath, "Away from the clutches of the Seekers, yet toward those lands where he deems he may still be of use in the battles which are to come."

"And so we are become outlaws," said Nephyn quietly, "Named as enemies for opposing the Enemy. What an unfortunate fate."

"It would be rash to judge so before one sees the ends of all things," said Elrond. "Do not forget, friends, that your deeds have won more than a few hearts across the leagues of Eriador; you have many allies, including, perhaps, some that you still know not. At least now we have clarity where before much was hidden. What now shall your Company endeavor?"

"If this Inar can be reasoned with at all," mused Lagodir, "I still think direct communication might be our best option. Turning an adversary into an ally is always advisable, to my mind."

"Are you mad?" I asked, incredulous. "Didn't you hear what they've accused us of doing? I wasn't sure at first, but now I'm convinced the Seekers are responsible for Luean's murder. And we'll be next if we don't take care, you mark my words!"

"If we are being hunted like Mallacai," said Nephyn, "Then would it not make sense to follow his example? Perhaps we should also take the road south, away from our pursuers, but toward the threat of war? That would put us on the same path as Mallacai, where we might overtake him. Unfortunately, it would also mean giving up on resolving the mystery of Luean's demise."

"I think we may be able to do both at once," said Gaelira. "The southern road is long, empty, and dangerous, and so our safety there seems more likely to me. But there is also a friend of mine who resides along that road -- a former Seeker. He is wise and sees much in a land which others ignore. He may be able to help us, or at least give us information."

"That sounds more promising," I agreed. "Where can we find this friend of yours?"

"In Dunland."

"Oh! And where is that?"

"About twice as many leagues as we covered from here to the Doors of Moria."

"Twice the distance?!" I cried. "Good heavens! You lot will walk the very hairs off my feet!"

"You could always go back to Bree or the Shire," said Drodie with a mischievous smirk, "I'm sure it would be a lovely journey, especially now that the Seekers are lurking out there."

"I suppose you think that's funny, don't you?" I huffed. "Well, don't worry on my account: if Dunland is as far away as all that, then you'll not leave me behind: I'm not cruel enough to make the others endure your cooking across all those miles!" Everyone laughed.

"It would seem your path has been set, then," said Elrond. "I believe this to be a wise choice. Know also that I shall continue to send forth my scouts, who will be on the lookout for any sign of Minasse's whereabouts. Once he is found I shall send word to you, if it can possibly be contrived."

"You have our thanks, lord," said Gaelira with a bow. "And now, if we are all of one mind, I think we should prepare ourselves to depart your hospitality once again. Mallacai already has a substantial head-start -- if all is ready, we will set out at dawn."

"Go, then, but go warily!" said Elrond. "May the stars shine forever on your path."

We spent the remainder of the day collecting ourselves and preparing to leave, but in truth little preparation was needed. Our hurts and hungers had been sated many times over since returning to that valley, where the passage of time brings vigour instead of decay or boredom. I wasn't certain Lagodir was fit for journeying again so soon, but he assured us he was ready despite admitting it would be some time before he was back up to fighting form. He set aside his heavy armour, but Nephyn returned to him the beautiful, curved Elven sword Elrond had given him during our last stay. For her part, Nephyn refilled her quiver while Gaelira studied many maps of Dunland, most of which were sketchy and incomplete. Drodie didn't really care where we were going (no other place could ever be as marvellous as Khazad-dum, he kept reminding us), and even I am so used to travelling that I was ready to go in short order.

I did take another 'last' trip around the House of Elrond as a way of saying goodbye to all my favourite haunts there. The Hall of Fire, the Room of Rest, the Falls of Imladris. I bade Mr. Baggins another farewell too while he, in turn, asked me when I was ever going to settle down and take things easy. I found I had no answer for him as I helped the old hobbit back to his rooms in the dark.

The Adventures of Elladan's Outriders -- Episode 63

Endings and Beginnings

Monday, 7th of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Eregion

A gondath of the Noldor

After only an hour's rest or so and a light meal, it was time to move on. Gaelira held the gondath we had finally recovered from the depths of Durin's Treasury safely among her gear, and so we moved to extricate ourselves from the Mines of Moria as quickly as possible. I was only too happy to do this, but Nephyn and Lagodir seemed eager to settle their bet while Drodie wished to see more of his ancestors' home. Gaelira and I prevailed with good sense, though: the wager was postponed to a more opportune time and Drodie was persuaded to be content with the considerable amount of Moria he had seen during our brief time within it.

Our departure was slow, silent, and (thankfully) uneventful. Retracing our steps was not easy in the dark, but Gaelira led us well. It was only a couple of hours later when we found ourselves back at the west-gate, where we leaned our shoulders against the stone and swung the door open. We were immediately blinded by a dazzling brilliance! We all shielded our faces in pain at the onslaught.

"Ow! My eyes!" I cried, but I was grinning from ear to ear and laughing as I spoke; the feel of the free air and warm Sun against my skin was nothing short of blissful. "Couldn't you have warned us that Arien herself was coming for tea, Gaelira? And me without the kettle on!"

 "It shall grow brighter still," the she-Elf replied, who alone among us did not seem bothered by the sudden change, "For it is yet quite early in the morning: Arien remains behind the Misty Mountains, which now lay to our rear."

"Morning?" I echoed while blinking rapidly. "Morning of what day? We spent at least a few hours today making our way to this spot -- ought it not be more like afternoon, or even later?"

"It is easy to lose track of days when one walks beneath the earth," said Drodie, "But Gaelira has the right of it: we slept and rested less than we otherwise might in the darkness of Khazad-dum, and so we emerge now in the early morning of only the third day since we entered."

"Only three days!" I exclaimed. "It feels like a week to me, at least. But whether or no, I'm happy as can be to find myself out in the breeze once more."

"I'll be happier yet when we leave this pool well behind us, personally," said Nephyn. "Even in the light of morning it bears an unwholesome appearance."

We all gazed at the stagnant, black water and agreed. Quietly, we skirted around its northern edge and followed the path by the still-dried up bed of the Nan Sirannon until the lake was entirely out of sight. Only then did any of us dare to speak once more.

"Whew!" I gasped. "Even when we are out of danger we are not quite out of danger, it seems. Not that I had any particular reason to fear the pool; something about it was just... off."

"I agree," said Gaelira, "Although, like you, I too cannot say why I find the water disquieting. Perhaps I shall remember to ask Elrond about it once we have returned to Rivendell. I wonder if Malkan might be abroad and bear us news from him, or perhaps word of Minasse; though he could not possibly have reached Imladris so quickly, of course -- it is at least a two-weeks' journey from here back to the Last Homely House."

We all looked skyward, but there was no sign of our eagle-friend, so we pressed on once more. Following the ancient and crumbling path, we eventually returned to the stone archway which marked the very edge Moria's realm of old. Drodie stopped for a few moments to turn back and look at the mountains.

"Of all the works of my people," he said quietly, "Khazad-dum was ever the greatest, and its loss we feel more keenly than any other."

"I hope you had some satisfaction from what of it you did see at least, my friend," said Nephyn.

"Aye, that I had," nodded the Dwarf, "Still, I had hoped..." His voice trailed off and there was a pause.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Bah, 'twas naught but a rumour," he answered with a shake of his beard. "Idle talk, no doubt: inflamed by the distance it travelled and the pints which fed it before finally reaching my ears in the Blue Mountains. It was said that Balin, son of Fundin (one of the chief companions of Thorin Oakenshield, former king of Durin's Folk, as I'm sure some of you know), had mounted an expedition to reclaim Khazad-dum. I never really believed it myself, but I confess I had hoped to find some sign of him and his people when we entered Moria. I doubt now that Lord Balin ever even came here to begin with."

"Perhaps, and perhaps not," said Gaelira. "Had he done so, he would have arrived from the East, and so would have entered through the valley of Nanduhirion that Men call the Dimrill Dale. Moria is vast: it is conceivable that we could have seen and heard no trace of him in all our time beneath the mountains, for our adventures were entirely on the western edge of that realm."

"May it be that you speak prophetically, friend Elf," Drodie replied. "It would pain my heart to know that my people still have no hope to reclaim Khazad-dum, but it would be more grievous by far if the Lord Balin did return here and some ill-fate befell him. My folk cannot afford to wage another war of vengeance against the Orcs of Moria. The memory of burning my grandsire at Azanulbizar is not one which has faded, despite the passage of many years."

We pressed on a little further, then lunched in the tumbled ruins just north of the road. Afterward, we put a good many more miles behind us before we finally made camp. As I write this, we are currently headed north, back toward Rivendell, where we hope to surrender the gondath to Elrond, who will use it to finally cure Lagodir and destroy the evil wraith Guloth forever at last.

I have been keeping an eye on the Gondorian this afternoon, and I think Nephyn was as well. At first I thought it was just my imagination, but I believe he is struggling on the march. He was very quiet for a long time and he seemed to be weary -- far wearier than I have seen him from nothing more than a simple journey. But then, once evening had fallen and we settled down in the gathering dark, he appeared to be in better spirits, so I did not voice my concerns. I will continue to watch him closely.

Monday, 14th of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Land of Eregion

It has been a week since my last entry, but only because there hasn't been much of anything to report. We have continued to make our way north toward Rivendell, but the land seems to be crawling by at a snail's pace. We had beautiful weather for the first few days since emerging from Moria, but then a front swooped in sometime during the night on Mersday; it has been nasty and overcast ever since.

We marched mostly in silence, but once in a while some of us would talk to pass the time. It was largely unimportant chit-chat, but there was one conversation which piqued my interest, probably because it wasn't really meant for my ears. We were making our way through the flat-lands of Hollin and there was a strong, chill wind blowing down on us from the mountains to the east. The quiet words of Nephyn and Lagodir, who were walking to my right, were brought to me on that wind.

"I am sorry for your suffering," I heard Nephyn say, "I was hoping I might be able to return your sword to you once we left Moria. And not just because the thing is bloody heavy." (I later learned Lagodir had surrendered to her the sword given him by Elrond sometime after our battle with Morhun but before we had left the Mines. I think she had concealed it with her longbow, which she usually carried wrapped in her sleeping blankets).

"It is best that I remain unarmed for now," I heard Lagodir reply, "Besides, it is not truly my sword; Elrond ordered its forging and gave it me so that I could pass it on to another."

"Oh? To whom, if I may ask?"

"An Elf named Haldir," the Gondorian answered, "But who or where he may be, I know not."

"Perhaps Elrond foresaw that we would cross paths with this Haldir at some point in our travels?" Nephyn mused. "Maybe he is some great warrior!"

"Maybe," said Lagodir. I noticed at this point he was breathing heavily, and Nephyn surely saw it also, for she spoke no more to him but offered her shoulder in support. I pondered these words as the miles rolled beneath our feet.

It is now well after midnight as I finish writing this entry. I'm exhausted: Gaelira insisted we continue moving for several hours longer than usual. She would not say why, but even I can tell that Lagodir appears to be worsening. His face is lined and drawn, and he sweats as we travel despite the weather being unusually cool for this time of year. I'm not sure what sort of internal battle he is having to fight on his own, but I worry that time is running out for him. We will need to reach Rivendell, and soon, though we have yet to even see the southern edges of the Trollshaws. I'm told we ought to arrive in that land sometime the day after tomorrow.

Oh, I thought I saw Malkan in the sky overhead yesterday, but if it was him he did not come to us and instead flew off toward the south.

Trewsday, 22nd of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
The High Moor, Somewhere in the Trollshaws

Another week and a day have passed, and we are all becoming very anxious. Gaelira has been pushing us at a terrific pace, presumably out of concern for our Gondorian friend. She has had us marching well into the night-time hours and doing most of our resting during the day. I couldn't understand this for quite a while, but then it occurred to me that Lagodir seems to be stronger and more aware in the lightless hours, though whether that was just me imagining things are something else I couldn't say.

Tonight, though, our luck really turned sour: Lagodir was already not doing well, but once we crossed the Bruinen he began to be very badly off indeed. This slowed our progress to a crawl, and there was little we could do for him, as he is a large and very stout Man. Gaelira and Nephyn took turns supporting him, but there wasn't much Drodie or I can do to help. Moreover, the rising and rocky terrain only made the situation worse, and (as of that morning) the perpetual cloudy skies finally turned to rain. As the first drops began to fall, I saw Lagodir stumbling along and muttering to himself while Nephyn tried to hold him upright. I wondered how we were ever going to reach Rivendell at that rate.

But just then there came the sound of a winding horn -- a sound I had heard near that same spot once before. My heart leapt within me! I looked eastward, whence came the cry, and there I saw Elrond's retinue trotting up to us on silver-white horses with the Elf-lord himself at their head. Minimal pleasantries were exchanged, for Elrond's face became grave as he looked upon Lagodir's state. He commanded that we all be carried on horseback to Imladris, and so it was that we five returned once more to the Valley of the Elves in a slow, mounted procession. The storm, which had threatened to pound the land about with rain and hail, turned out to be little more than a reverent, drizzly caress on Lagodir's brow as we went along. Looking at him, I saw that his eyes were darkened; he knew us not, and I wept out of pity even as we arrived at Elrond's House.

We were ushered within and given all manner of attendance, but our collective minds were fixated on our friend. Elrond asked that he be removed to the Room of Rest, then he turned and spoke to us.

"I knew of your approach once you crossed the Bruinen, my friends," he said to us in his kind but firm voice, "And at once I brought forth members of my household to meet you and render aid. Your return is timely, for Lagodir's last strength to resist the evil within him is swiftly ebbing. I sense also that you return bearing an item of great power; I trust it is one of the gondath, which you set out to find?"

"We have and it is," Gaelira replied. She drew forth the Shadow-stone and handed it at once to Elrond. The Elf-lord frowned as he grasped it and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"This is indeed a fine specimen of the lost Noldorin craft," he said slowly, "But it is tainted by some darkness, the force of which takes my breath. You bore this thing hither, Gaelira, over all the leagues from Moria to my house? Then you have my commendation, young one, but I read in your faces that the stone's corruption is already known to you. There is a tale surrounding your errand that I am eager to hear, then, but such things must wait. I will take the stone and cleanse it, and then I shall tend to Lagodir. Should you lack anything, you have only to call upon Lindir. He may be found in the Hall of Fire, I think. Now forgive me -- I should delay no longer."

Elrond swept into the Room of Rest followed by three of his attendants, then shut the door behind him. The four of us made our way downstairs to the Hall of Fire where we sat for a long while, nervously awaiting any news. Several folk were there (as was usually the case, especially at night, and by that time it was well after dark), but they all kept their distance as they seemed to understand we were in some plight. The hours dragged on and on, but no word came.

I can only suppose that Drodie, Nephyn, and I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I remember was being jolted awake by what I thought was a terrific clap of thunder followed by a tremor in the floor beneath my feet. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if the weather had turned truly awful while Nephyn and Drodie roused themselves too. The other inhabitants of the Hall grew suddenly quiet, then began murmuring among themselves. Gaelira was standing at a nearby window, but her attention was turned inward -- toward the house -- rather than the outside. I was just about to ask her what was going on when the door to the Hall of Fire flew open and Lindir came swiftly through.

"You four," he said with a motion toward us, "Lord Elrond has summoned you. Come quickly, now!"

We did as we were told, and were soon assembled just outside the Room of Rest. Elrond was there, and I remember thinking his blue eyes seemed especially bright to me, but in his two hands he held the broken halves of the gondath.

"Is that...?" asked Nephyn as we rushed forward. "Oh, no! Does this mean --?"

"Do not be afraid," Elrond said to her, but he might as well have been speaking to me also, for the same thoughts were racing through my mind. "Although it has been fractured, the stone will still serve our purpose to heal your friend. But I have called you hither to ask: what is your tale regarding this artefact? I have seen and learned much already, but I fear what may remain hidden from my sight."

"We recovered the stone from an Orc named Morhun in the deepest vaults of Moria," Gaelira responded. "We believe Morhun was part of an entourage for someone he called 'the Emissary' who came seeking the gondath and claimed all of them that he found there. The Orc also mentioned that this Emissary worked with the stones for days before removing them. Apparently Morhun came to covet the stones for himself, and his treachery earned him imprisonment in the vault when the Emissary departed. Still, Morhun managed to steal one of the stones before he was left to die, and it had some foul effect upon him: he was not in his right mind when we discovered him there, wretched and tormented. He unleashed the stone's power upon us, but I was unaffected and slew him where he stood. My friends, perhaps, could tell you more of what they saw."

Drodie, Nephyn, and I told Elrond briefly about our experience, and the Elf-lord sighed deeply.

"As I suspected," he said, "This Emissary can only be some agent of Mordor, steeped in the dark arts. It seems he infused the gondath with a great number of fell-spirits, using the stones' given abilities to bind them within."

"Like the heart-stones we encountered in Angmar, you mean?" Nephyn asked with a shudder.

"Similar, yes, but the gondath are of High Elven-make and much greater potency," said Elrond. "I have never heard of them being used in this manner before, nor do I know what the Emissary might wish to do with such things. As I attempted to cleanse the stone, the wraiths within it began to resist me! My counter-efforts were auspicious, though the vessel was broken in the conflict. Your tale has filled in some of the gaps in my understanding, and for that I thank you -- I am now certain it is safe to fetter Guloth within the shards of the stone, whereupon I shall have my smiths destroy it and your quest shall finally be fulfilled. Knowledge of this Emissary's plot, however, is another matter which may require your singular talents, my friends, but first let us dispense with the enemy at hand ere we seek out another. Go now and rest, if you are able. The process to withdraw Guloth's spirit from Lagodir and bind it to the gondath will likely be a lengthy one, but it shall be successful, I think."

We departed in haste so that Elrond might begin his work. Upon returning to the Hall of Fire, Drodie and I sought some food, but Gaelira and Nephyn declared they had no desire to eat. Slowly, the faint light of dawn was appearing in the sky, and I, content with a full belly and trusting the words of Elrond, allowed myself to sleep once more.

Hevensday, 23rd of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
The Last Homely House, Rivendell

I slept straight through to the mid-afternoon thanks to the gentle sounds of Elven music which surrounded me. My companions were up and about when I woke, but there had been no further news from Elrond since the early hours of the morning when we last saw him. There had been such a commotion upon our arrival that we were only then given proper lodgings within the Last Homely House although, grateful as we were for the accommodations, we elected instead to remain together in the Hall of Fire for the time being. Gaelira was constantly going in and out with nary a word to the rest of us, which I found rather unsettling. She was clearly bothered by something, but she did not speak to the rest of us about what might have been troubling her. I was just screwing myself up to ask what had her so flustered when Elrond appeared in the doorway. He beckoned us to himself, and we gathered round a small table in a secluded corner.

"Your Gondorian friend has been purged of the wraith," he said quietly. We resisted the urge to cheer -- it was as if an enormous weight had been lifted from our collective shoulders.

"May we see him?" asked Nephyn eagerly.

"Of course," Elrond replied. "He is within the Room of Rest, as before, and he is sleeping soundly just now. I shall see to it no one hinders your coming and going from that place at any hour so long as your friend remains there, since his recovery will take some time. Even when broken, the craft of the Noldor is strong enough to hold Guloth's essence, and so both Lagodir and the whole of Eriador is fortunate to be rid of a dangerous foe this day. I tarry now only briefly before taking the stone to the Forges of Rivendell, where I will order it shattered and its power dissipated beyond recall. But first, I would ask: did you learn aught from Luean? How fares his search for the lesser-ring Narchuil?" We paused a moment, but Gaelira spoke for us.

"We found Luean within the ruins of Tham Mirdain," she said sadly, "But he had passed from this world some days before, wounded by many cruel sword-strokes. His body we commended to the inhabitants of Mirobel, who did his memory the proper honours. Did Minasse not deliver our message to you concerning these things? We sent him hither with tidings, for we felt it news you would wish to hear while we continued our search for the gondath in hopes of curing Lagodir."

"You did well and wisely," said Elrond with raised eyebrows, "But I must tell you Minasse never passed the boundaries of my realm."

"He never made it here?" I exclaimed. "But, but then, where is he now?"

"I do not know," Elrond replied, "And so I knew nothing of Luean's fate until now. This is grievous to hear, all the more so because he was your former companion. I myself feel partly responsible for this tragedy, since he embarked on that errand at my request. Had I known enemies were come again even so close to Mirobel and I would have taken greater precautions. What foe was it that overcame him?"

"We found Orcs within the ruins at the old college," said Gaelira, "But..."

"But we have reason to suspect others," Nephyn cut in. She dug through her pockets and produced the slip of paper we had recovered near Luean's body and handed it to Elrond, who reviewed it with a frown.

"The name Volfren is not known to me," he said in a grave voice, "But Inar! That, I am afraid, is a name I have heard more than once before now. It seems Mallacai was right after all, though I am surprised he did not inform me of this development."

"What does it all mean?" I asked. Elrond sighed.

"It means we have much to discuss," he said. "But first, you four should take solace in your victory: Guloth will soon be no more, Lagodir will eventually recover, and many of the Free Peoples in the North are now aware of their danger, thanks in no small part to your efforts. Rest now! There will be time enough for grim councils tomorrow."

"Now that I can understand!" I said. "We should leave all the gloominess and intrigue for later. Come! Let's go see Lagodir, even if he can't yet see us."

Elrond bade us farewell and left for the Forges while we hastened upstairs and into the Room of Rest. There was Lagodir, sleeping peacefully upon a canopied bed with many cushions, and his face looked more serene than I had ever seen it. It really appeared as though twenty years of toil had melted away from him as Nephyn gently brushed a lock of his hair off his brow.

"He really is a brave chap, isn't he?" I whispered. "I remember when he first told us about the time he spent in that... that Morgul-place, and how terrible it was."

"He is valiant," Nephyn agreed. "No other word would do him justice." She and Gaelira reclined in nearby chairs while Drodie and I sat on the plush carpet.

"It must have been terrible," I went on, "To see all the things he has. It makes everything I've been through seem quite trivial by comparison. And he's always been such a troubled soul, but you would see glimpses of happiness now and again. I hope he will finally know peace."

"He, more than any of us, deserves peace the most, I think," said Nephyn.

"Of all we have accomplished," said Gaelira quietly, "Lagodir is perhaps the most significant."

"True!" I agreed. "And that's what this has all been about, hasn't it? Making a difference? It was for me anyway. But I always thought it would be about making a difference on some grand scale -- you know, like in the old tales. It turns out that the realest and most important difference we've made was right here among ourselves." Nephyn reached over and gave my shoulder a little squeeze.

"That is why I do not believe the Dark Lord will prevail," said Gaelira. "I think we are as much a danger to his designs as all of the captains and generals in the world."

"You know," I said with a yawn, "Despite all that, our missing Elf, and whatever it is Inar may be up to, I feel more calm now than I have in a very long time."

We four kept vigil at our friend's bedside through the night. Some Elves came in later bearing food and drink, which we gladly accepted. We spoke little, but we each thought much about our time together and our great friendship. One by one, we began drifting off to sleep. As my eyelids drooped, I could see Gaelira sitting upright in her chair, her eyes closed and her head forward in silent meditation. Then there came a bright flash like green lightning through the windows, but no thunder followed it. Perhaps I was already wandering into a dream, but I thought I heard a thin, wailing cry rise high above the valley before it faded into nothing. Then came the soothing rush of the wind through the pine-trees, and I slept with a smile upon my face.