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"I've acquired a spare steed," he rasped out, quicker than the mariner had ever heard the old man talk before. "I've gathered you have troubles you did not see fit to mention to me - and I, too, have cares that only now do I feel I must tell to you. Come with me to Ecsichil's, to my eldest boy's, right now. Don't bother to change. All that matters is talk, no, speed, yes, fast talk."
Vëandur hurried after the old man, slamming the door shut behind him. He usually moved pretty quickly himself, but keeping up with Cirdacil was surprisingly difficult.
"I do have troubles on my mind," said Vëandur as they strode along. "But I don't think now is the time for them. It seems greater matters are afoot." They were already approaching the gate, where the guard sprang to his feet.
Vęandur opened his mouth to hail the man and state his destination, as procedure ordered. The old man was too quick.
"Worry not, my good fellow! If you seek Vëandur of the Fleets he will be with me."
"I already told him who I was," explained Cirdacil as they passed the gate. "Good enough for the likes of him."
"You are in great distress, my uncle," said Vëandur as they reached two tied horses. "If you will share your burden with me, I shall do all I can to help you."
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