[Child of the 7th Age]

Child was pacing back and forth in her room unable to sleep. Her clothing from the feast lay dumped on the floor. Her belt and pouch lay carefully packed by the door, and she wore the simple outfit which Idril had left for her.

Thankfully, Rose still lay sleeping in the bed, oblivious to the ferment boiling up about her. Child had gone to Mithadan's room and foraged among his belongings to find every map of the First Age that he had brought along. Then she had burgled her way into Idril's household library and pulled out several navigational charts. A simple refrain kept running through her head. "The ship is too far away." You couldn't ask Angara to make repeated trips back and forth to the Lonely Star, when she had to fly so far. It was physically impossible.

They needed a temporary staging point, a place to drop the hobbit women and children. The ship could then sail north along the coast to pick them up in a day or two. Yet, when Child scrutinized the maps, so much of the land looked threatening and inhospitable, with Morgoth's Orcs and allies controlling mile after mile of territory.

There was one island in the middle of the Firth of Drengist, which might have worked, if only they had longer to prepare and journey back and forth. But, with only a single day to plan and carry out their ideas, that island looked extremely far away. For, although Angara was a great dragon, there were limits to her endurance and strength.

Child desperately wanted there to be some way for Mithadan's audacious plan to succeed. And she had to admire the stubborness in the Man's heart which refused to concede defeat. But she knew that Pio had serious doubts about what Mithadan was trying to do, and how many hobbits might be killed by their desperate measures. And Pio was probably right.

[ August 08, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]