[Arry]

‘And why do you blink in surprise at my question, little brother?’ Skald frowned at Bror as he spoke. ‘Wasn’t it you who wanted to stay when Riv and the others were leaving? Wasn’t it you who told Riv how our home was safe, and how you wanted to help save the Elven city?’

Weeks of frustration and pent up fear spilled out unchecked from Skald.

‘Really, what good has this done anyone? We’ve lost more of our companions. And what little we’ve accomplished I think the Elves could have done on their own.’ Skald took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘We should have gone home with Riv. There! I’ve said it. It was a mistake for us to stay.’

Skald stared off into the distance, as if his eyes could penetrate the leagues that lay between them and the mountain. ‘Don’t play the wide-eyed child with me any longer, Bror. You’ve been here in this inglorious series of skirmishes and flight. There’s no glory in “being in the frontlines, right beside the king”, especially against the great number of foe who rode against us. The frontlines . . . pah!. That’s where death rides on his great horse; his sword, or club, or spear held high; his face hung with a skull’s grin as we’re mowed down.’

He turned a face, bled of all hope, to Bror. ‘Do you want me to reassure you that in the end everything will be alright? I can’t do that. They could be dead . . . the one of them, the both of them. I just don’t know.’ Skald shook his head slowly.

‘I do know this. We should have been there with them . . . we should have, the both of us . . . we should have . . .’

-----

Most of the Dwarves did not sleep at all that night. Too on edge, they sat in small groups, near each other, talking low. They built no fires; the only lights in the darkness that distinguished them were the glowing embers of their pipes.

A small delegation were sent to Lord Elrond’s tent. He had listened closely to them as they told him of their planned departure, then thanked them graciously for their generous aid. They in turn thanked him for his offer of horses for the long journey that lay ahead, saying that perhaps the Elves could put the beasts to better use. ‘Begging your pardon, Lord Elrond,’ said Rori Ironfoot. ‘Your offer was very kind and much appreciated, but we Dwarves feel much better with our own two feet on the ground.’

-----

When the sun had barely cleared the mountains to the west, the Dwarves shouldered their packs and made their way out of camp. There were many of the Elves who had fought beside them who called out farewells to them as they passed.

Then, when the Dwarves had passed a fair ways east and south of the camp, the captains of the Elven troops were given orders to make their men ready. At Lord Elrond’s command, the Elven company would set off, too, their journey taking them a little further north and then east in search of a place of refuge, where they might recoup their strength for the days yet to come . . .