[Novnarwen]

Tanorth sat alone, being quiet, as usual when thinking. He wasn't too happy about this place, and a feeling of uncertainty crept upon him. He could feel his eye locks getting heavier, and he realised the weariness creeping up on him, also. As he dozed of, he thought about the fair woods of Lotlórien, which he had so eagerly left, for a few weeks ago. Then, he couldn't think about anything else than being here, beyond the woods. Now however, he couldn't help himself thinking of the trees, birds, the Lady and his home, job and his other doings and surroundings.

He snorted as he opened his eyes wide. Erkaliel, who had obviously been drinking too much, was making far too much noise. He gave her a warning, but friendly look. Luckily there weren't too many people around. The Innkeeper was currently at the kitchen, washing up after the company, and the few old men who sat here, were almost sleeping, out of drunk or weariness, Tanroth didn't know.

There is an Inn, a merry old Inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill.

Erkaliel started, having a clear voice. Tanroth sighed, and decided to go up ad find his room; it was time to go to bed.

The male elf made his way up the stairs, hearing the applause from the audience. Erkaliel had apparently finished her song. He looked over his shoulder, as he opened the door to his room. Although Tanroth was tired, he didn't go to bed at once. He stared out of the window, with empty eyes. Had he failed being the company's leader? This thought swirled around in his head, and the emptyness in him grew. Already, they had been attacked by Orcs, and they were far behind schedule; at least three days! For a moment, Tanroth hesitated, but realised the facts; if they were to make it to the Havens, before the ship would leave, they would have to hurry up. "We must ride with great speed," Tanroth muttered to himself. He lay down on the bed, finally letting sleep take him.

***********

Tanroth woke up, early next morning. Two knocks on the door, disturbed him and he got up in a hurry. "Yes?" he said, while dressing. "It's Rostion," the voice outside called. Ah.. Tanroth thought, as he recognised the Elf's voice. "I'll be down in a bit," Tanroth replied, hearing Rostion feet, leave his door. Tanroth grabbed his weapons and his other belongings and made his way out. The small room was dusty and dirty, the elf was glad to be leaving.

In the common room, the company gathered, eating a breakfast. "Rostion, Imthôlion and Firiel would you care to come with me and get the horses, meanwhile the others pack new food provisions and such?" Tanroth asked, almost commanding it. The three elves agreed, and they left as soon as their soup-bowl was empty.

********

The four elves left the Inn; meanwhile the others in the company took care of the food. "Around the corner," Tanroth said and pointed. The others nodded as the passed an old house, located some 100 paces away from Tharbad Inn.

The Elf knocked on the door, hearing footsteps coming. Tanroth glanced towards the stable, which was located to the right of them, before a man opened it and slid out the door. "Greetings," he said merrily. Tanroth was surprised by this sudden kindness; it was if the man had been expecting them, for long.

"Come with me please," he requested, telling them that the seven horses were fit and ready. "Seven?" Firiel asked, as they arrived the stable. Tanroth had overlooked this part of the man's sentence, but now, when he had found his piece of parchment which was given by the Lady to him, he realised that seven was the 'wrong' number. "I believe he meant nine," Tanroth said, assuring Firiel.

The man, named Garton looked at them, opening the stable door. "Sorry, but I have only seven," he said. Imthôlion made a grimace, showing how displeased he was, but he said nothing. "But it says," Tanroth started, giving the note to the man.

[ November 22, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]