[Nurumaiel]

Leafa, sitting with her hands clasped in front of her knees, trying to refrain from shivering, stiffened, and stood. She put one hand in the air. "Listen!" she said, and strained her ears. She heard the wind blowing, but that was all. She sat down again and bowed her head. "I thought I heard voices," she said, "but it seems I did not."

There was a silence, and then Bella cried out: "I hear voices as well, Leafa!"

"Is it the Elf?"

The two of them stood listening, and at last Bella let loose a relieved laugh. "No, it is not. I think it is one from our company," she said. She turned her eyes to Leafa. "Would you risk it? Should we call to them?"

"I think they are calling our names," said Leafa, as if in avoidance of the question. She paused for a moment, and then she nodded. "Yes, let us call to them," she said. "If it is the Elf, he would surely find us anyway. But if it is not he, they might pass us by for our lack of reply."

And so the two began to call to the voices in the wind for aid.

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Liornung sat up, and folded his arms. He had slept soundly for some time, trusting that the men of Gondor would find the two lassies. But he had dreamt of them, and had become restless. He began to regret that he had not gone in search of them himself. But, of course, that was folly. He was no skilled tracker, and would be a hindrance. It was merely his love for the two girls that brought on his regret.

He stood up and wandered a little way from the group, stopping for a moment to take up the case containing his fiddle, and gazed towards the east. It would not be long, he hoped, before the sun rose. It would be an easier task to find the maids then.

He took his fiddle from its case, and looked thoughtfully at it. How old and battered it was becoming! There were scratches and dents upon it. He had owned it for many a year, and often he considered laying it aside in some safe place and taking up a new one. He could give it to his nephew in Edoras, who had a deep interest in music. And he could get himself a new instrument, clear and shining, with no marks of wear and weather.

He put the bow very gently to the strings, and played a quiet note. Then he laughed softly and shook his head. No, of course he would not give this fiddle away for a new one. No more than he would exchange Leafa or Bella for another young girl.

"You have been with me too long, dear friend," he said. "You have worked your way into my heart, though you are a creature with no life in you. Nay... no life? Sometimes I think you could play of yourself. You have wisdom that even I have not. Long after I have forgotten the tunes from distant lands, you still remember them. When my fingers set upon you they are bewitched and move at your command. Often I have heard it said that with you I cast a spell over the people to make them dance and weep, but it is you who cast the spell on them, and on me. You have been comfort in sorrowful times, and my laughter in the joyous."

He played a few more notes, very softly, conscious of the sleepers a little ways behind him. The melody that gently strained out was a strange one, not of Rohan. As his fingers moved lightly here and there, the words were recalled to his mind, and he remembered the one time he had seen the sea. The music he played now contained those sights and thoughts, those wonderings. In the tune there was the pounding of waves against rocks, the cry of the gulls overhead, the spraying foam, the salty breezes...

"Darkness steals o'er the day
and chases merry clouds away.
The gulls above do glide and fly
and o'er the sea their lonesome cry.

"A cloud of thunder rides swiftly there
and brings a chill bite to the air.
A lightning flash, and then again;
and upon the sea a drop of rain.

"The waves did rise, the gulls did flee
and left the storming speedily.
O'er the sea, from the cry
a gull gave one more rising cry.

"A battered ship leapt on the foam
and struggled on to reach the home
where children laugh and fires roar
and spinners spin a tale of lore.

"A flash of lightning comes again
and in the sky a crack does rend.
The ship moves on; its timber groans
and all the men heave frightful moans.

"'Our home, our land, we'll see no more!
and reach the much sought after shore.
Our wives, our babes, for us will weep,
for we will sink into the deep.'

"'Come up, fear not! My men, be brave!
There is still hope to beat the waves.'
The captain stood, fearless and tall,
and they gazed upon him, one and all.

"'There is still hope, though it seems gone
and the sea does sing a dismal song.
But 'tis not our last song, this I know,
'tis not a tale of lasting woe.'

"'Though to your heart the fear does creep,
and your hearts, like the waves, do leap,
your deathbed will not be the sea;
hark, my men, and list' to me.'

"And even as the captain spoke
the clouds above his head were broke
the sun came out, bright and fair;
a cool breeze ruffled through the air."

Liornung stopped his quiet song, and looked discontentedly at the sky. It was still dark, and the men of Gondor had not returned. Was it so hard to find the maids? Then how far had they wandered? Where could they be? Morning was so long in coming! If the sun would but rise, Ravion and Erundil would have their task made easier, and the maids would be brought sooner back.

But still the darkness went on.