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Del urged his pony Ein over to Crystal and Aelimur's direction in recalling his question a while back. "Hey, Aelimur, I've been wondering about something or so. Your silent pal, Ferethor, why is he so nervous about the citadel guards? Is he an outlaw or exile of Minas Tirith or something?"
The man turned half in his sti'rrups before answering levelly without any visible change of expression, "No, of course not. That Ferethor, an outlaw? He is more of a law-abiding stern type, you see. Can't even pluck an apple from a nearby tree without him lecturing about honesty."
It was a ridiculous thought. Del smiled to himself at allowing such an absurd and improbable fancy to enter his usually logical mind. Foolish! I must really be getting paranoid - if I wasn't already so.
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