Eruantalon had left the table, and the Elf was now sat by the Ranger who had asked his name. Well, he sits with me, and has a right to know, he thought, and what harm can it do now? Half the inn at least must know of my name by now. He sighed.
“My name is Erdaminéon. I know not how many times I have spoken those four words tonight, but enough to put anyone who searched for me onto my trail.”
He watched as Eruantalon spoke to Pio, and wondered. What was so important that he should rush to trouble Pio? She was busy, so it must be urgent. Then Both left the inn, and Pio returned. For a moment he sat and watched, but the rain was beginning to cease, and he could not put things off any longer.
“My friend,” he said to the ranger, Anuion, “I must leave you now, but I hope our paths will cross again. I do not know what you are to be led into by Eruantalon there, but I hope all the best for you.”
He rose from the table and crossed the room once again, weaving in and out of the tables. He made his way to where Pio sat, where the man had spoken to her. He put a hand beneath his cloak, and drew out a handful of coins, which he set on the table beside her.
“For the ale and food you have served me during the night,” he begun, “ and for your kindness also. I must ask you to tell my friend Eruantalon that I have left, and also that I will meet him again. I do not know when, but I may return here soon. And wish him luck for me. He will understand.”
With this, Erdaminéon turned and walked slowly and wistfully through the door, becoming part of the night as he faded out of the sight of all who had seen him leave. He untied his horse, and leapt swiftly and gracefully onto the back of the great creature, and a last echo of hooves was heard outside the inn as he left.
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