[Envinyatar]

Geldion stepped up quietly behind Ondomirë. The Captain of the Swordsmen’s blade was drawn and at the ready. He had noted his friend was occupied with something or someone in the hut, and not knowing whether it was friend or foe, he came to assist.

A bit young for you, my friend . . . Geldion commented silently. His eyes now accustomed to the dim light of the interior looked the young women over from head to foot. Grimy faced, and scruffily dressed, she presented a sorry sight. Her hair, he noted, was caught in a loose, untidy braid that hung over one shoulder. Not far from her sat an Elven child, his attention caught by the antics of a Dwarf who was entertaining him. And she has a child, so it follows a husband must be somewhere in the picture. He stifled a snort. I leave you alone for one moment and this is what you’ll drag home for your ammë to approve? His brow was raised in a questioning manner and a slight smile hovered at one corner of his lips.

Ondomirë’s eyes narrowed as he gave his friend a withering look. Geldion was forever attempting to match him up with an eligible Elven female. Amongst other encounters, there had been a number of ambushes, barely escaped from, as Geldion played matchmaker between various females in his extended family and his friend.

‘Saurauko!’ hissed Ondomirë aloud, firmly pushing Geldion toward the door. By the One! This is no time for your crude attempts at changing my unattached status. She’s just run for her life from Sauron’s foul creatures - a bit of dirt, wrinkled clothes, and mussed hair is allowed, I should think. And the child . . . it’s her brother’s son, you great fool!

Yes . . . well enough defended . . . threw back Geldion as he stepped back through the door. Then turning, his features not the least contrite, he made a parting shot before hurrying out of Ondomirë’s reach. Still . . . I always knew you to be an easy mark for those of the fairer sex with silvered hair. Barely escaped that Lindar from Forlond, as I recall . . .

As Geldion hurried away to see to his men, Ondomirë took a deep breath and turned back to Losrian, speaking to her in the Elvish tongue. ‘If I might make a suggestion or a request, more like. Lord Elrond and his advisors are unfamiliar with these eastern areas. Would you be willing to lend us your knowledge as we look for a place of safety? If you wish, I can give you one of our mounts to ride. And if you will, I’d be happy to have you ride by my side. Your arrow – and I’m assuming it was you who crafted it, is a fair piece of work. I should think that you were also a practiced hand with the bow you carry.’ He glanced to where Skald had picked up Galmir and was laughing as the boy pulled at his beard. ‘The little one will need to ride in the van. There are many children and mothers there, surrounded by a score of well-armed guards. The pony, too, can travel along with them. They move at a slower pace than do we.’ He watched her as she glanced toward Galmir. ‘I’ll not pressure you for an answer. Just get word to me if you wish to ride at the front.’ He took in her tall, slender figure. ‘There is sure to be some light mail shirt you can also have, m’lady . . . should you choose to ride with us, that is.’ He felt himself about to trip over his own words should he speak further.

Ondomirë stepped back a pace and bowed slightly to Losrian. ‘I need to check on the rest of my men.’ ‘Skald,’ he said, returning to the common tongue, ‘can show you to the wagons where the women and children are situated. By your leave, m’lady,’ he said nodding once to her before going out the door.

He stood outside the hut for a few moments in the morning’s sunlight, his eyes adjusting to the bright light filtering through the trees. In the new day’s breezes the leaves of the tall birches fluttered, their leaves winking silver at him as they twisted on their stems.