[mark12_30]

Somehow, thought Mellondu, that wasn't quite what I had hoped for. Far from cheerful or uplifting, Bella's song had been .... depressing. Mellondu sighed, and looked around. Liornung seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, and showed little inclination to sing or play. No cheerful tunes were coming to Mellondu's mind, either. He felt glum.

Mellonin tipped her head, pondering. "There's more than sorrow... perhaps not in the words, but ... I don't know. It's sadder than the words express."

Erundil's face went carefully blank. The girl's excitable, changable nature made him leery. Resisting the urge to shrug his shoulders, he stared ahead at the city.

"Still, " Mellonin continued, "it starts with despair, but then the poet says, she is coming home. So perhaps it holds hope. Or..."

Mellondu looked southward to the city, letting his mind wander. Would his forgemates be glad to see him?

"Perhaps, " said Mellonin, "the poet does not know whether to hope or to despair."

"Bingo, by Jorje, " said Raefindan.

Mellonin giggled, and then laughed gaily, and Mellondu heaved a sigh of relief. He let Mellonin's laugh trickle into his heart, and soon he chuckled with her. Raefindan chuckled too. Aeron snorted and muttered; the two rangers exchanged glances; Mellonin laughed and laughed. When her laughter finally subsided, she was silent for a while, and then said, "I miss Jorje."

"So do I, " replied Raefindan, but said no more.

The horses jogged steadly south, and the miles, like the hours, passed in bright whiteness.