[Mithadan]

Chapter XVII

LAND AND SKY

The old dwarf clad himself, grabbed his battle-axe, and left his room. There was no one in the corridor so Gimli stumped out to find someone. In the hall beyond, near the windows and the doors, he found elves and men and women lying prone or face first on the floor. He thought at first they all lay dead but he found they were only sleeping. It reminded him immediately of the goblins and wolves that Pallando had laid low with a muttered spell.

"Did he do this?" Gimli asked himself. "Why?"

But there was no answer in the hall. He carefully stepped over the sleeping folk and out into the courtyard. Here he saw the same shocking scene that Elediriel had seen when she fearfully followed in the wizard's treacherous steps. His eyes were opened wide, taking in the eerie view with a growing sense of dread and fear. Nearby lay Legolas and others of the most noble elves, Celeborn, Elladan and Elrohir. He tried to wake his friend, but found that the wood elf was sleeping as he never had before, and could not be aroused.

"Uncanny!" whispered the old dwarf. His fear began to give way to anger, and he strode away on his stout legs to find King Strider.

Eventually he did find the king, lying quietly where Ellie had left him. He saw the bloody bandage on his grey head and how he was carefully laid, as if to rest. Tears started in Gimli's old eyes.

"Aragorn!" he cried and hurried to the side of the fallen king over the prostrate bodies of his traveling companions, the rangers Aradhel, Cairduin, and Cairdur.

"Aragorn! Speak to me!" the dwarf pleaded, piteously taking the hand of his old friend in his sturdy grasp. The hand was warm and the dwarf laughed in his great relief and his freely flowing tears dropped on the noble kingly face. Aragorn's eyes fluttered open.

"Gimli," he said. "Help me to my feet."

Gimli was not so very old as dwarves reckoned such things and was still as strong as many a dwarf in his prime, and they can be quite strong indeed. He easily lifted the king to first a sitting position, and then helped him to stand to his uneasy feet so that Aragorn was able to lean back against the table.

"What has happened?" cried the dwarf. "Did the wizard do this?"

"Yes," said the king, weak though grim. "He has taken Eldarion. I think Elediriel follows. What have you seen?"

"All of Rivendell is sleeping!" exclaimed the dwarf. "I cannot believe that Pallando would do such a thing!"

"Perhaps his entire story was a lie. Or perhaps the wizard was not Pallando the Blue," said the old ranger, holding his head with both hands. "Perhaps he was, himself, Alatar the Black. I felt perhaps that this was so the instant I laid hands upon him, thinking to bring healing. Why did I not heed the advice of Thranduil or follow the example of Thorin? I am a fool!"

"Say not so!" replied the dwarf. "We were all fooled, especially after his aid against the orcs and wolves."

"Who he likely enough brought down upon you himself for the purpose of fooling us all," said Aragorn. "Is no one left awake?"

"No one," said Gimli. "I only woke myself a few minutes ago. I had wished for all the elvish racket to stop, but when it did, I woke from my bed."

"And I was knocked unconscious before he cast his spell," the king observed. "Perhaps there are others who are only sleeping a natural sleep. Let us go forth and see."

"Can you walk?" asked the dwarf.

"I must," said the king. And with that, Aragorn pushed himself forward and walked over to his Queen. She lay there upon her couch, where she had rested with the baby in her arms so securely such a little time ago. Her bosom rose and fell only slightly, or else Gimli might have thought her slain. Her arms were extended and her hand still clutched a small blanket such as might wrap a baby.

"Arwen, forgive me. I have failed us all. But if I cannot right this wrong, I will avenge it!" He turned then and the old dwarf saw the countenance of the king was grim and hard. Aragorn took Anduril in its scabbard down from its place of honour, bound the legendary sword to his belt, and strode out on his long legs so swiftly that Gimli had to hurry to keep up.

In the courtyard, the king did not stop in an attempt to wake anyone, but instead seemed more to be listening than looking. He well knew that any elf that slept so was under the wizard's spell. "Gimli, have you seen the hobbits anywhere?"

"I have not. They are worthy, but of what help can they be?" asked the dwarf.

"I will know if there is something to learn when I find the hobbits, for if Elediriel saw them, she surely stopped and may have left some sign," said Aragorn. "Let us look yonder."

The old dwarf saw beyond the open gate many more fallen folk. They picked their way through the slumbering throng and on the other side, near a low burning fire, as the Moon began to set, Gimli spied the hobbits as Ellie had left them. Aragorn leaned against the outer wall of the Last Homely House as Gimli gently moved old Pippin and young Turry from the awkward positions of their unnatural slumber.

"Well here they are, caught like everyone else," said the dwarf. "Just as I thought."

"But hark! Unlike everyone else, Master Merry snores," said the old ranger.

Sure enough, the fat old hobbit was gently snoring off some of the wine that had made its way from the bag in his little fist into his massive belly. Gimli saw that it was the third such wineskin he had worked upon, for two others lay slack nearby.

"Wake him," said the king.

The dwarf shook the old hobbit, gently at first, and then with more vigour when Merry tried to push him off.

"Wake up, Master Holdwine! Awake!" cried Gimli.

Merry looked up blearily at him, "Oh it's you Gimli, and Strider. I seem to have dozed off! Not as young as I used to be, I'm afraid, and..."

The hobbit sat up and looked around him and was speechless. Gimli told his old friend what had passed.

"Did you see Elediriel?" Aragorn asked urgently.

"No. No, I didn't! Curse this wine! Why did I drink so much!" wailed the old hobbit.

"No time for that," said Aragorn, tersely. "Listen to me. This is important. I see that you wear the cloak of Lorien. Did Pippin also? Did he?"

"I think... That is, I'm sure... yes! Yes, he was wearing it!" said Merry.

"Then that means Elediriel is wearing it now!" cried Gimli. "What a clever girl!"

"She will have to be," said Aragorn grimly. "Now we must see who else has been fortunate enough to seek an early rest as did you Gimli, or even as our Master Brandybuck, to drink more than was good for him and thus escape the wizard's spell."

"If this spell is like unto the one he cast on our journey, then they will sleep until night falls again! If any sleep naturally, they will wake in the morning and come to us," said the dwarf. "It would take us longer than that to find them anyway."

"Let us ring the Council bell then, and see if that will awaken some few and bring them to us," said the king wearily.

"I can call them from here!" cried Merry. The old hobbit shoved himself to his feet and took from his side the small green horn, inlaid with the horses of Rohan, given him long ago for his service to the king of that land. It had upon it a virtue to kindle courage in every heart within the long range of its clear clean notes. He put it to his lips and blew the alarm of Buckland.

FEAR! FIRE! FOES!

AWAKE!

FEAR! FIRE! FOES! AWAKE!

AWAKE! AWAKE!

AWAKE! AWAKE!

Loud and long he winded that horn as a red dawn began to light the sky. The three old friends learned in that hour what virtue had blessed that horn and how well it had been bestowed.

Merry was looking upon his old companion as he blew, for it had such a special meaning to them both. Then he paused in wonder for a single tear trickled down the sleeping face of Pippin. Merry blew again and again, now more loudly and wildly than ever he had in his long life. Gimli thought the old hobbit's lungs would burst with the mighty effort.

Pippin stirred, his eyes opened, and the wiry old fellow sprang to his feet, as indeed did everyone within earshot, and that was almost the entire population of Rivendell, who had gathered there for the great celebrations. The darksome spell of the wicked wizard was broken before its appointed time.

All of the multitude was abuzz, for they all remembered last seeing the dark glare of the wizard when the moon was high and wondered at the hours they had lost now that the sun rose into the red sky. Gimli laughed in his delight but the face of the king was still hard and grim. Even so, Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief. For Rivendell had awakened far sooner than the wizard had planned and the initial pursuit could begin immediately.

The injured old ranger slid down the wall, his last reserves of will exhausted, and was now the only soul in Rivendell who was not awake and alarmed.

***

As the brush of a crimson dawn began to paint the air, and the eagle carried Elediriel above the vale of Rivendell, she fancied she heard the clear and stirring notes of a horn before the sound was blown away in the rushing wind. With the sound of it, she forgot her fear of falling to the ground far below (at least for a moment), opened her tightly shut eyes, and lifted her head. Away to the north, she could just see a black dot against the brightening sky that was the gigantic vulture, bearing the evil wizard and the stolen child.

Rondramehir, whose name meant Lord Skywing, was King of the Eagles of the Misty Mountains, the greatest of all the birds of Middle-earth. Nothing passed through the skies and little on the ground that the eagles could not see, if they were aloft to see it. The great eagles of those days could stare unblinking into the brilliance of the sun, or spy a rabbit in a field by the shine of the moon. They had seen the carrion crows that followed the wizard and the company, flying to and fro, and they marked the great vulture that came in answer to their summons from some fastness far away.

Rondramehir had followed, observing from far above, and some of his wing-mates followed. When he saw the vulture lift from the clearing with the wizard and the baby, and saw Elediriel running after, and spied as well across the river the motionless throng laid low about the Last Homely House, he did not need to know what was wrong to know that something was wrong indeed. He stooped from the sky like a falling arrow and snatched up the hobbit lass and soon returned on high to lead his eagles in the pursuit.

As Ellie got over her fear, and told the eagle-lord of what had happened, she remembered to leave her trail. She crumpled another page and another and let them fall. After watching the first one fall, she did not watch the second or the third, and let them fall more sparingly after that. She hoped the wind would not take them too far.

They were aloft for some time, and by mid-morning Ellie had already thrown away nearly all of her journal. She reckoned they were now flying over the ancient kingdom of Rhudaur, which was still sparsely settled, though folk had begun to move back to the empty lands. It was here that the swift-winged eagles had now silently overtaken the hideous vulture and the wicked wizard it carried.

One after another they stooped down in succession to drive the foul creature from the sky. The old man cursed, but could only hang on as the great carrion fowl was forced to ground. Had the pursuit been upon the land, he might have threatened his tiny hostage. Had he time, he might have worked up some magic against the noble birds. As for the eagles, they in fact hoped he would actually drop the child! This might seem a terrible risk to those of us who cannot fly as did the eagles of the Misty Mountains, but they were nimble in the air, and supremely confident they would catch the precious baby, for they often played such games with one another and did many other dangerous things that would take your breath away to watch.

Ellie watched in dizzy terror, both hoping that the wizard would drop the child and hoping he would not! Rondramehir flew above and behind, watching the dangerous tactics of his wing-mates. The little hobbit lass was terribly frightened of the eagle's plan, but could not offer one of her own! Not that the eagles would have listened anyway, for they are haughty birds and would not have thought much of a thought they did not think first, especially in a theatre of aerial combat. And they would be right! As it was, the wily wizard had no intentions of releasing Eldarion, for he was wise enough to know better, and chose instead to land his ghastly winged mount in a place of his own choosing.

The vulture landed and the wizard quickly sprang from its feathered back. He laid the child down under a bush as the eagles wheeled in the sky preparing to assail him. The old man threw himself to the ground, but the vulture was not so lucky, for now the eagles stooped to slay and their sharp claws rent the croaking bird, helpless and clumsy on the ground.

As this was going on, Rondramehir set Elediriel down none too gently (he did not even land!) back behind the wizard and the battle. He soared again into the air to join the fight, as Ellie tumbled from what seemed to her a very great height (only a few feet actually). She picked herself up and ran quietly and as closely as she dared to get a better view of the terrible scene.

The wizard gathered stones and pebbles and small rocks in a heap before him, as he lay prostrate on the ground. A wizard, even a very wicked one, can do much, even in a desperate situation such as the one in which he now found himself. As the vulture was rent to shreds and the eagles screamed in fury, he muttered a low chant over the stones. Then, as the eagles rose into the sky again, this time stooping down from on high upon him as the target of their taloned wrath, he grasped as many of the small stones as he could in his fist and flung them hard into the air at the last instant.

He cried aloud and the tiny projectiles exploded with a myriad of sounds, like fireworks combined with breaking glass. Shards and flinders of rock and stone tore into the wings and bodies of the eagles and many were slain in the air and the rest when they were dashed helplessly by the speed of their own assault into the hard ground. A second formation bravely tried again and the result was the same. Only Rondramehir survived, and retreated with bloody wing into the southern sky.

The wizard cackled wickedly, for though he had lost his winged mount, he delighted in the slaying of the noble birds and perhaps thought that no pursuit could possibly catch up his lead. Had the rest of his scheme worked as planned, none could follow until dawn the next day and, even so, he left no tracks through the sky from the edge of Rivendell to the wilds of Rhudaur! But, as you will see, even the cunning plans of a wary wizard can be foiled. He turned back to the bush to grab the newborn infant, still sleeping in enchanted slumber. Then the wizard's mocking laughter was turned into a howl of rage.

There was nothing under the bush. The infant prince Eldarion was no longer there!




Chapter XVIII

PURSUIT

Gimli turned and saw that Aragorn had fallen again.

"Help," cried the old dwarf. "The King has taken hurt! We must bear him to his chambers! Help!"

At that moment, Lord Celeborn passed through the gate, hearing the loud cry of the dwarf above the confusion of the crowd. The regal elf stooped and with surprising strength easily lifted the tall king in his arms. The noise of the crowd was stilled, and the elves of Rivendell parted before him as he bore King Elessar back to the Last Homely House.

Elladan and Elrohir, dark-haired brothers of Queen Arwen, walked behind Lord Celeborn. How often had they ridden in battle together with the mortal King in far lands against the servants of the Shadow. Now they took up the somber pace through the quiet peoples of their own home, as Aragorn was carried before them. What a different scene it was from the day before, when all were joyous and sang aloud in their gladness. A murmur started and spread through the multitude as the news was passed that King Strider was injured, perhaps mortally, and the Heir was kidnapped.

As the elves and men of Rivendell learned the news, Aragorn was borne to his chambers, where Arwen lay weeping. She lifted up her head and cried aloud when she saw her noble grandsire bearing her husband's unmoving frame through the door. They laid him on her couch and Gimli the dwarf told them all that he knew of what had transpired.

"Alas!" cried Legolas. The elf of Greenwood had followed as well, along with the hobbits Meriadoc, Peregrin, Madrigal, Turgon and Fingon. "Alas!" he cried again. "My father was right, and I have played the fool! We should not have trusted the black-hearted wizard and his stories! Alas!"

"We all fell to his spell of fair-seeming," said Gimli, trying to comfort his friend. "His honeyed words and strange ways were but a guise for dark intent. Who shall blame us for failing to see his subtle snares?"

"I blame myself," said Cairdur grimly. "I knew that there was something strange about him. Picking the bones of Dol Guldur. Finding a spell to lay low our foes at the last possible moment. His chattering talk with the crows. Aye, and the doubts of wise King Thranduil! Such clues no ranger worth the name should have failed to see!"

"The wizard is of an order beyond the reckoning of mortal ken," said Celeborn. "It is easier after one is snared to see where one should not have stepped. He had power in him to lay low not only your foes, but also all of waking Rivendell where they stood. Do you not think he had power to lay low your suspicions as well?"

"He does not have power to elude us forever, now that we know his base heart!" said Elladan hotly.

"Let us muster a force that not even a wizard can defeat!" cried Elrohir.

"Go forth," said Lord Celeborn. "Order such forces as we can send to the chase."

The Half-elven brothers turned as one and swept out of the chambers, intent to lead an army against the captor of their young nephew and the author of their sister's grief.

"We must first find the wizard. If the hobbit girl has left a trail, we had best discover it swiftly," said Aradhel. "We rangers must amend our lack of vigilance if we can!"

"And the Wood and the Mountain, too!" cried Legolas. Gimli lifted his mournful head with smoldering eyes.

"Then go!" said Celeborn. "Let nothing slow the pursuit! Catch up the wizard's heels and we shall send a host to your aid!"

The three rangers saluted their fallen king and left, followed swiftly by Legolas and Gimli and the Took Twins and the elder hobbits. Madrigal was at the side of the Queen, anxious and sharing her cares. Celeborn bid Arwen farewell and left the King in the care of the Queen and her handmaidens.

"Go into my gardens," said Arwen to an elf maid. "Gather me some of each of the herbs planted there by my father. Go quickly! Heat water so that they may steep and the fragrance fill the air. Madrigal?"

"Yes, my Queen," said the hobbit lass, her eyes brimming full with tears held back.

"Fetch for me my harp yonder, that I may soothe the King with soft melodies and words of care," said the Queen. "And I will lift up my voice to the West, and call for blessings for our child and help for his deliverance."

Soon, a kettle of hot water with steeping herbs was brought into the chambers, while the queen herself bathed the head of the king. He began to stir as the keen clean scent replaced the melancholy air. Then Arwen stood and turned to the waiting hobbit lass.

Trembling, Madrigal placed the golden harp into the lovely hands of the noble queen, who smiled upon her even amidst her own great cares. Maddie's tears then flowed freely as the beautiful half-elven woman sang in a voice sad and yet hopeful in her distress.

Far away where all songs go,
Hear this my cry for mercy great.
Never there will I ever know
Again the sight of kin who wait.

Mortal life is keenest when
Dearest are gone or left near death.
Save them from harm in home and glen
And guard their every precious breath.

Far away where all songs go,
Heed this my plea of greatest need.
For him my fate I did forego
And for his son I did that deed.

Sacrifice should not be vain,
Nor should hope die from mortal kind.
Was child of hope born to be slain?
Let not such thoughts take root in mind!

Far away where all songs go,
Comfort us who raise Hope to you.
Spare him, my love, from mortal blow,
And save his son, lest I die, too.

The queen gave back the harp to Madrigal when she had finished this song, for the king looked up from where he lay and softly asked, "What news?"

***

"No!" said Cairduin sternly. "We have need of haste! This is no carefree walking party! Cairdur, stay and keep these from troubling us. Besides, there must needs be some force left here in Rivendell against further treachery. We go!"

The protesting hobbits were left with nothing to say. The young ranger Cairdur clearly did not want to stay himself, but said nothing. The elder rangers set off at a great pace, followed by Legolas and Gimli, and several other rangers and elves.

"It's not fair!" cried Furry. Turry bit his lip hard, fighting against anger.

"It is the events we find ourselves in that are not fair," said Cairdur. "But like you, I would prefer to ride or run after my father and our friends. But he is right. Some should stay. Soon the muster of Rivendell will leave the vale bereft of arms."

"And bereft of danger," said old Pippin, sighing. "That is why we are left behind."

"Not that you and I could do much anyway," observed Merry. "You know we wouldn't last long on the trail. I just hope it does not prove too hard for old Gimli!"

"It would not prove too hard for us!" said Furry, bitterly. He and his twin brother walked off, leaving the young ranger and the old hobbits.

"Let us see how the muster procedes," said Cairdur not knowing what else to say, and feeling much the same way himself.

Folk were running to and fro. Stores were gathered. Plans were laid. All was brought to Lord Celeborn, who approved of the orders or amended them as he thought best. Elladan and Elrohir rode both together and separately the length and breadth of Rivendell, calling forth all who could bear arms and ordering the muster of such strength of war as could be found on short notice.

The grim day wore on. The red dawn had given way to an overcast sky and the grey mood was matched by the sons of Elrond as they drew together and gave order to a folk who had long known only peace and safety.

The younger rangers and the children of the Dunedain were assigned the task of guarding the Last Homely House. All knew that this was only to make work, given to keep the earnest youths out of the way of more serious matters. Cairdur bore the task without complaint through the day, though his eyes betrayed what he thought of his part. His younger brother, Cairmir, finally drew out of the young ranger the thoughts of nearly all who were to be left behind.

"Keep silent and do as you have been told! Do not act like the children you are, lest I come to think I am left behind not to guard our fallen king, but to sit with babies who cannot be left to themselves!" The young ranger turned on his heel, leaving his younger brother and the other Dunedain and elven children angry at their uselessness, and ashamed that they were thought a burden rather than a help. The old hobbits Merry and Pippin saw much of this, but held their tongues.

The day drew on, and the muster continued. From the chambers of Aragorn and Arwen news was carried by the hobbit Madrigal that the king was healed and recovering, and this brought no little cheer to the mustering host and to the folk gathered anxiously about the Last Homely House. The hobbits gathered together in one of the gardens to talk with each other. Some of the young elves and Dunedain had followed, since the hobbits did not seem to treat them as did their elders.

They ate their lunch with little appetite, which goes to show you just how distraught the young hobbits were. Furry still railed at being left behind.

"We can ride and shoot as well as anyone! They just don't think much of hobbits, that's their problem!" cried the young Took.

"But we haven't their experience in war, or their skill in tracking," said Turry. "And they were afoot, not riding. We couldn't have kept up anyway."

"I don't know what good I am either," said Maddie. "All I could do was hand the Queen a harp."

"That's more than we've done," said Furry.

"Well," said Cairmir, "no one will even listen to us. Maybe they'll listen to you."

"What do you mean?" asked Maddie.

"Geniwel found something. Show her," said Cairmir, turning to an elf girl.

"This!" said Geniwel, producing a page of crumpled parchment. "I found it near my home, at the north end of the vale." Turry took it and looked at it closely.

"That's why no one listens!" said Furry impatiently. "What does this signify?"

Geniwel had more to say, "No one has paper like that except the Queen's house. I thought it had to be important."

"It is the right size to be from Ellie's journal," said Turry. "And the Queen gave her that book."

"She's leaving a trail!" cried Maddie.

"You don't know that," said a grim voice. It was Cairdur, walking into the garden, seeking them out. The young ranger's countenance was as dour as his father's and it angered his younger brother.

"You don't know anything either!" Cairmir shouted. "Why don't you take it to the Queen and find out? You'll be sorry if this was our chance to help and we didn't!"

"I will take it to her," said Cairdur, his face softening. "We should not overlook anything. You are right, brother. I will return." He took the crumpled parchment from Geniwel and walked swiftly away, leaving the young hobbits and the children of Rivendell to themselves. They said little, looking at the ground and not meeting one another's eyes.

The garden in which they sat was beside a wall of the great house. A window overlooked the garden where the path drew next to the house. From that window came the voices of Merry and Pippin. The two hobbits were talking loudly, as if unaware of the listening ears in the garden below.

"I wish that I were still young!" said the voice of old Pippin. "I'd like to see anyone keep me from following a friend of mine in danger!"

"You're right about that!" cried the voice of old Merry. "Not even Elrond himself could keep you out of the Fellowship!"

"That's true!" agreed Pippin loudly. "Why, when Frodo sought to leave the Shire with the Ring of Sauron and all the Nine Nazgul on his heels, we were there with him!"

"I don't know what's the matter with the youth of today," said Merry mournfully, but just as loudly all the same. "Youth is wasted on the young!"

This, of course, was just too much for the young hobbits, listening with burning ears in the garden below (as they were meant to). Madrigal jumped up and cried, "Geniwel! You must take us to where you found the page!"

"I'm going, too!" cried Cairmir. "The rest of you scatter, or they'll make you tell where we've gone!"

Soon, the Dunedain boy, the elf girl, and the young hobbits were mounted on the ponies Thunder, Lightning and Cider, carrying such things as they hurriedly thought to take with them, and riding hard for the north end of the valley of Rivendell before anyone could stop them.

***

"But the Queen and King are resting!" protested Mehirabeth, handmaiden of Arwen. "Can't your errand wait?"

Cairdur looked at the rumpled parchment in his hands and wondered himself if his errand was worth even his own time, much less worth bothering the distraught queen, newly delivered and bereft of her child and having just exerted herself in the healing of the king. The elf woman standing before him clearly thought that the young ranger could not possibly have anything to say that was important enough to disturb her lady.

He decided to wait, and asked to be given an audience with Queen Arwen as soon as she awoke. Mehirabeth told him his request would be made known. He sat down upon a bench in the hall, and waited. He was there for some little time and beginning to think himself on a fool's errand.

Just when he had convinced himself that he should tell Mehirabeth not to bother, he saw his father and Aradhel enter the hall, with Legolas and Gimli grimly following.

"What news father?" cried Cairdur.

"None good," answered Cairduin. "Why do you wait here? Are there not other duties?"

Embarrassed, he held out the rumpled parchment and was about to tell why he was there, but his father cried out, "How came you by that?"

"It was found by an elf child in the north end of the valley. The hobbits thought it might have come from Elediriel's journal, given her by Queen Arwen, and was dropped by her as a token. I was awaiting the Queen to see if this might not be so," answered the young ranger.

In response, the elder ranger held out a similar page and said, "I believe it is so! Let us to the Queen!"

This time, Mehirabeth did not protest, but bid them wait at the door. Soon, the handmaiden returned and let them enter, cautioning them to speak softly. They held out the pages and asked Arwen if she remembered them. As she looked upon the pages, Aragorn awoke again and asked them their news.

"Lord Celeborn has overseen the muster," answered Aradhel. "Elrohir and Elladan prepare the cavalry and all nears readiness. We tracked the hobbit Elediriel, whom we believe left these pages from her journal for us to follow."

"Then why are you here?" asked the king, in a tired voice.

"The trail vanished on the north ridge," answered Cairduin. "We saw there no further sign of wizard or of hobbit. The tracks of a great bird were there at the valley's edge and nothing more."

"But there was this other page, found still further north at the end of the valley," said Cairdur. "They must be heading north!"

"Then they fly north, rather than ride or walk," said Aradhel. "The hobbit girl did not climb down the sheer side of the dell, whatever the wizard did."

"It is a riddle," said Legolas. "All we have is a direction."

"These pages are from the blank journal I gave to Elediriel," said the Queen. They are alike and they are of Rivendell make. I have dropped no pages. She left them for you to find."

"Then by your leave, we will take the northern passage out of the valley and see what we may find," said Aradhel, and they left to renew their pursuit. With haste, they gathered a small group to ride and found a horse for Legolas. Gimli the Dwarf rode with the wood-elf. This time Cairdur would ride with them, for he knew where his younger brother's friend lived, and they hoped to find some other clue nearby. As they rode past the garden, the young ranger was annoyed to find that neither the young hobbits nor the children were waiting as he bade them.

Old Merry was leaning out the window, and the young ranger called out to him, asking if he knew where the young folk were.

"Not all of them," said Merry. "But you had best ride north and ride hard. They couldn't wait all day you know!"

"Hyah!" cried Cairdur, spurring his mount and riding hard indeed. The rest followed the young ranger, in pursuit of the hobbits, to find whatever trail Elediriel might have left, to rescue Eldarion, and to make the wizard pay if they could.