The day had worn away quickly and the light was waning before the hobbit admitted defeat. She had only picked up the short trail of a heavy foot under Benia’s window before losing it amidst the hard ground of the inn’s yard that lay before a copse of trees. All through out the heat of the day in vain she had wandered around the inn’s vicinity as quietly as she could, trying to discover a direction to pursue. And dogged by a persistent feeling of inexplicable dread that seemed outside the present circumstances, she tried to remain hidden from view, further delaying her purpose.
Now, back bowed from the long hours carrying Jack Nightshade’s burden, Gilly removed the sword and settled herself in the bushes against the wall of the Green Dragon. Cursing the skill and caution of her friend’s assailant, she listened to the sounds of merriment within. She had not eaten all day, nor did she care too, weak though she felt.
She rubbed her eyes to somehow clear her mind’s acuity before once more reviewing her conclusions. All she had was one clear impression of a boot half hidden in the ivy under Benia’s window. From its size and shape and also the method of abduction she could safely rule out hobbits, dwarves and quite possibly elves. From all indications it was a man that had crept in at the window last night and taking into consideration the stealth of removal, either a ranger or professional burglar – a distinction that was rather dim in Gilly’s mind. But she could have guessed that without the footprint or long day in the sun. She was no nearer to finding her friend than she had been in the morning.
If she hadn’t seen Kaldir at the inn earlier in the day she would have been convinced that he was responsible. For he certainly had proved himself a threatening presence the evening before, even he would not deny that. And what of Silvanis? Last Gilly had seen him was when she had gone to shut Benia’s window and had spied him outside by the well with Vanwe. Could there be some importance there? Vanwe after all was another southerner… someone who might have heard of the price for bringing in a member of the painted sand clan. Silvanis could not be ruled out, pleasant though he was.
Held also in the hobbit's suspicion were the stream of guests coming and going. A few looked capable of mischief, but didn’t seem in a great hurry to leave. In particular, the one that had been repairing the roof of the stable looked wary in a rather of habitual sort of way.
Painfully aware of the circles her mind was describing Gilly sighed as she again pondered raising an alarm, but something held her from it.
Just as the weary hobbit let fall the back of her head gently against the wall, eyes closed, she heard the sound of a door opening. Daring not to breathe, she slowly looked over her shoulder to see Kaldir step out of the doorway carrying a large bundle. He took a few strides then hesitated in the dusk looking toward the stables before quickly pressing on toward the far end of the yard.
Gilly got to her feet, grabbing the sword with one smooth motion. She sprinted into the shadow of the trees that lined the yard, and followed the ranger, noiselessly, into the night.
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