This was madness. The company was finally on the right track…they find the lost man, capture his captor, and the incompetent mortals scatter like gnats. Erebemlin glared at the swamp elf. What evil will he work among the weak minded? He thought, keeping his mind closed to the other elf. Tharonwe had come to them too easily, too soon, and although he appeared docile, Erebemlin knew danger still lurked within the walls of his being. He wished, at this moment, that Amroth would return. His kingly wisdom was needed.
~*~*~
The darkness that lay over the plains that night were thick, and the moon’s light was hidden behind the gorging snow-filled clouds. Taitheneb stepped gracefully atop of the snow-covered ground with leaving only the slightest footprint. Straining his ears he listened for the young women, but unfortunately he heard naught but the soft voices from the camp. He wondered what would have made them leave the safety of the fire’s light, especially after all of the events of the last days. Do the human’s learn nothing? Their actions were foolish, much like Erebemlin has said in the past. Taitheneb wondered if he should have listened to the Silmaethor instead of pitying him.
As he thought this, the sound of a horse’s breath came from his right. The elf squinted into the darkness and could see the creature and his rider arcing around toward him. Taitheneb stood still, waiting silently until the horse was near.
Young brother, why do you roam so far from camp?
The horse came to a halt, and the young rider moved his head from side to side staring uncertainly into the night. Taitheneb moved so that he could be seen by the boy, and repeated his question. As he came closer, the elf caught the troubled, hurt expression on Nethwador’s face. His dark eyes glistened with moisture. What troubles you, Mellon? As the elf touched the boy’s mind, the only image that came to him was the young girl and the name…Bella.
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