[Eorl of Rohan]

Ferethor chewed gingerly on a piece of cram, wishing that he had not chosen to tread winding forest trails. He had been forced to take this detour into the heart of Greenwood the Great, to avoid the orc-bands that stalked the main road by this time of the night.


“Why didn’t I take the plain road, though it led through a hedge of swords?” He thought as he munched on the last of his cram and prepared to go again. “I’d rather fight orcs!”


“At least I won’t get lost.” He said aloud, hoping to rouse his spirit as he scanned the road. With the aid of his slender blade, he cleared away lush undergrowth as he passed, checking the position of stars now and then for guidance.


“For the sake of Illuvatar, Apple, not again!” Ferethor swore exasperatedly for the seventh time that night, hearing Apple whinny and knowing that his horse managed to get itself entangled somewhere – again.


Apple, who managed to get clear of the vines by a violent thrust with his back legs, came trotting up to him and nuzzled his hand penitently. Laughing, Ferethor pushed the horse away. “You’ll get the chance to run soon.” Even as he said that, the trees and bushes thinned out and the road became more visible. The wood trail joined the Great Road, which led to the gates of Minas Tirith.


As the sun rose over the peaks of the Lonely mountains, Ferethor entered the gate. “Lord Elessar said Aelimur would join me." He said to himself. “Down by the Fountain of the White tree.” Ferethor, upon reaching the fountain, winced at the sight of Aelimur, still clad in silver and sable of the guards.


He recalled his audience with Lord Elessar. "Lord Aragorn! You mean you chose Aelimur of all the soldiers to be my comrade, sir?" He cried. "Help? The young pup will be only a hinderance!"


"Aelimur is valourous and loyal. That's why I assigned you with him - so he can learn to be wise as well as valourous, and to show pity as well as being proud. I trust in him." His eyes danced with laughter as he said, "You weren't any better, I recall, when you joined the hunt for the Wargs instead of your father at the age of seventeen."


At that Ferethor had no answer. "He is a true king, in the sense that he does not command but always persuade." He thought.


Ferethor dismounted and approached Aelimur, who was busy in trying to merge among the people and failing utterly. "Aelimur!" He said quietly, hoping to not draw any attention. "You'll give everything away! Don't turn your head away from gazes and skulk around."


Aelimur leapt up, surprised at being taken unawares. Ferethor sighed in exasperation. Aloud, he said, "Aelimur, do you know where this Maen is supposed to be?"

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:37 AM January 29, 2004: Message edited by: Eorl of Rohan ]