[mark12_30]

They crested a low hill, and halted; their minds had been tightly closed per Amroth's orders, and they did not expect to see the party of fourteen on the horizon. The elves held up one hand each.

"Seventeen men, my lord, " whispered Taitheneb, his mind still shut tight. The men and ladies pressed their horses closer to hear the elves' whispers.

Amroth's lips tightened; he squinted and stared, but to no avail. He glanced at Erebemlin, who shook his head. "Twelve armed men, four unarmed, and one girl; sixteen horses, " whispered the taller elf, an edge of reproach in his voice. Taitheneb aquiesced.

"And there, " pointed Erebemlin, "Three more men. Two stand still, the third begins to follow the riders."

Taitheneb nodded again, chagrined that he had missed the three men on foot.

"One of them, " continued Erebemlin, "has chestnut hair."

"Chestnut hair!" said Amroth.

Erebemlin nodded. "Yes, my lord. Glossy and red."

"Does he grieve?"

Erebemlin, somewhat taken aback, turned to study the distant figures. "His back is to me. He turns... His face is sad."

Amroth's eyes blazed. "He is bereft. I know this man. Take me to him quickly!"

"My lord?" Erebemlin asked even as he turned his mount to obey. Minds still closed tight, the three elves surged forward. The exhausted band followed as best they could. When Bella and Argeleafa's horses lagged, Liornung and Ædegard kept an eye on them. The three elves and Nethwador arrived at the two walkers first. In the distance, the third man hesitated, staring back over his shoulder.

Amroth rode straight to the redhaired man. "I grieve with you, friend. Your loss is deep."

The redhaired man tore his gaze from the elves. "I beg your pardon?"

"I share your grief!"

The other, brownhaired man glanced at the elves, and nodded. "Yes, our loss is deep. Can you aid us?"

Erebemlin looked at Amroth. "What loss do you speak of, my lord?"

"Yes; which one?" asked the redhaired man. "There've been a few, if you don't mind my saying so."

Ædegard and Liornung came into sight, and behind them Bella and Argeleafa.

The brownhaired man looked up at Amroth, and said, "If not for your air-- you look like..."

Amroth ignored him and spoke to the redhaired man. "You search for the one you love. She has vanished into the wild, and you know not where. And your heart finds no rest without her."

The two men nodded, but the brownhaired man spoke again. "You look much like her."

Amroth ignored him again. "The love you seek-- her fate is woven with mine, is it not?"

"Excuse me?" replied the redhaired man. "Perhaps you might give me a name?"

Amroth dismounted and walked towards the red haired man.

The redhaired man said, "You look like Mellonin."

The sister of Mellondu! thought Amroth.

A sharp cry from the brownhaired man brought them all up short. "It must be he! We have found him-- and lost her!" Amroth found himself face to face with the brownhaired man.

"Ravion, " said the redhaired man, "Wait. Let him speak--"

"They are as like as twins! It cannot be otherwise! The quest is ended, yet to whom do we give the prize?" said Ravion, with a mix of woe and fury taking Amroth's shoulder. "O Raefindan, I am a fool!"

"Unhand him!" cried Erebemlin, wrenching Ravion away from Amroth. Ravion was too anguished to care, and turned to Erebemlin with such a look of woe he won Taitheneb's pity.

Amroth nodded. Raefindan-- Red-Haired Man.

Ravion looked up at Ædegard, Argeleafa, and Liornung. "Mellondu rides with Rohirrim, and comes back home. Had we but waited! And now she is captive!"

So he knows my young blacksmith friend Mellondu. Well enough. But he was not in my dream. Amroth turned to Raefindan. "Captive?"

He nodded. "Alas, yes. And so are our beloved thieves."

Amroth's brow knit. "Thieves? That is no loss."

"They were bound to me, " replied Ravion, "and we failed them."

Amroth met his gaze.

"I failed them, " said Ravion.

"The point is, " said Raefindan, "that they were part of us, and bound to us, and now are lost to us; they were taken from us against our will."

Amroth's eyes hardened. "Then they will be restored to you."

Ædegard looked at the troop on the horizon. "Six of us against twelve armed men?"

Taitheneb spoke. "Five men and three elves, against fifteen men."

Bella and Argeleafa exchanged glances; what would they do in a fight?

"Three elves?" asked Ravion. "I see two elves and four men..."

"They're getting further away as we speak, " replied Liornung.

Amroth turned to the ladies. "Your horses. These two men need mounts. We will return to you quickly." Taitheneb and Erebemlin swiftly loosened swords and strung bows even as Argeleafa slipped off of her horse. Bella hesitated. "Hurry, " Argeleafa said. Bella slid off.

Wide-eyed, Raefindan strung his bow, and muttered under his breath; Ravion had given him six arrows; that meant Ravion was short. Raefindan loosened his dagger. Even as he realized he did not know what to do in battle with a horse or without one, Bella was handing him the reins.

The two ladies stood alone on the plains as the eight riders thundered southwest.