[Arry]

‘Pardon my asking, sir, but . . . why are you carrying a human child?’

Rôsgollo drew himself up straight on his mount, a quick glance measuring the one who had addressed him. For a brief moment his eyes took in the officious soldier standing near the young man, then, with a return of his gaze to the questioner, he dismissed the portly officer from his attention. ‘Faerim, is it not . . .?’ he asked, tucking the curious child closer against him.

Before he could give further answer Gaeredhel urged his horse forward, putting himself between the men and his brother. ‘Is there trouble, brother?’ he said, his hand drawing back his cloak to make free his blade should he need to draw it.

‘No trouble, just a simple inquiry,’ Rôsgollo replied, his voice smooth. ‘Faerim,’ he went on, ‘son of Carthor has asked why I carry a human child.’

Be careful with your answer, brother. The other one looks edgy. And I think he has no love of the Quendi. Gaeredhel kept his gaze on the two men as he spoke with his brother in thought.

Rôsgollo nodded, moving his mount forward to be in view of Faerim. ‘His mother is dead, Faerim, son of Carthor. Slain in the streets of your city. None stopped to see to her. Would you not have taken up such a child to bear him away from his certain doom for at least a little while? Man or Elf child, what difference should it make to me?’

The sound of hooves approaching caught Gaeredhel’s attention. One of the King’s guard was approaching, his gaze intent on their little group. Gaeredhel moved up again to block his brother . . .