[Estelyn Telcontar]

Tinar awoke with a start as a ray of the setting sun shone on his face. As in the last few days, he had flown ahead of the little group of riders, seeking out the most likely watering spot and resting in human form during the day. Even though it was not likely that other travellers should discover him, he slept restlessly. It would have been very difficult to explain his presence to strangers, alone and without even a beast of burden. Not all who navigated this part of the desert were of his people.

He shivered, though the air was still hot and thick before the evening winds came up to cool it. Something was wrong, though it took him a moment’s reflection to think what it could be. The Gondorians! They should have arrived there by now, if they were headed for this little oasis. He panicked, thinking how large the desert was and how difficult it could be to locate them if they had taken an unexpected turn of direction. Then he shook himself sternly, reminding himself of what he had experienced during the last few days. He had survived, all alone, had achieved a new shape all by himself, and had navigated unknown areas with few problems. He had managed to find water and enough nourishment to keep up his strength and had felt that strength grow from day to day.

Though he felt the loneliness keenly and missed having companions for conversations and for sharing the responsibility of making decisions, he found that he had actually enjoyed these days on his own in the desert. For the first time in his young life, no one was there to tell him what to do – a heady, exhilarating feeling. He revelled in the freedom of movement far from the restrictions of a city more than he could ever have imagined. Spreading the wings of a falcon and rising to greater heights than he had experienced before, soaring on the rising winds, he felt far away from the concerns of daily life and the restraints of court behaviour. He felt slightly guilty over his relief at being away from his powerful mother and her constant planning and scheming. For a moment, he wondered whether her fixed idea of a Maenwaith city was truly the best for her people, but the thought faded as he realized that he had an immediate problem to solve.

Where could the Northerners and their companion be? He drew water from the well, drinking as much as he could before changing to his falcon shape and spreading his wings to rise up on the breeze. The sun would be setting soon; he must find them before dark. He turned to glide in a large circle, northwards and eastwards, swivelling his head to and fro to search for any movement below. He could see no trees, no green that would have given sign of water nearby. The air shimmered with the reflected light of the low sun, creating illusions that tricked his eyes at first glance, but he had learned to look more closely from another angle before believing what he saw.

Finally, when he had almost despaired of finding the ones he sought, or even a refuge for himself, he caught a glimpse of green ahead and, moving toward it, spots that were soon visible as riders when he drew nearer. Three dots, yes, but as he approached he realized that those were not the camels he had been following – there were three horses, and only two riders. Even his sharp eyes could barely discern their shapes in the dusk, but it was too late to make a renewed attempt to find the others. He decided to take a less conspicuous form before circling over their heads as they dismounted from their horses at the watering place.

From his perch in the branches of a scraggly tree, he watched their movements. Their gait seemed strangely familiar, but it was not until one of the men called out to the other that he realized who they were. Of all the voices he had least expected to hear, this one was the most welcome – Korpúlfr! He fluttered down to the ground and, taking a deep breath, changed to his human form. “Kor!” he exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Korpúlfr spun around in his tracks, reaching for his sword.

“Peace, peace!” Tinar laughed. “It is I, Tinar! Do not kill a friend – there are not many of them out here in the desert!”

Hasrim, hearing the voices without recognizing Tinar’s, came running, raising the piece of firewood in his hand to ward off the intruder.

“Stop!” Korpúlfr shouted, “It is Tinar!”

Later, as they sat around the fire, having slaked their thirst and stilled their hunger, Tinar answered their questions, though his friend noticed that he was strangely reticent to tell how he had managed to cover such a distance within those few days. Never mind! Kor thought. He will tell me soon enough if he has something on his mind. However, he was aware of a subtle change in the young man; he seemed more thoughtful, less inclined to speak impulsively.

Tinar yawned. He was more tired than he could remember ever having been. He was glad of the bedroll his companions had strapped onto the extra horse. Tonight he could sleep deeply, unafraid. He was among friends.