On the small rocky island of Carrock, bathed in the upper reaches of the mighty Anduin River, a most unlikely duo locked eyes in a run down village tavern.

"And it's ale, ale and by the pale,

For that be Morgan's Jooooooy!"

The cheerfully excited crowd whooped and hollered through the final, final chours of the raucus drinking song as the bard let his own voice trail off into the roar.

Barmaids scurried about taking orders. Morgan's Joy was a well known favorite among the tavern crowd across the land. It had an ever growing number of verses and sing along always made for dry throats.

A few of the better liars claimed to have heard the Bard of Belfalas play the tune in person. They said that this fellow was no match for the master, but he was more than passing fair for this twist of the river.

Erinhue smiled to himself and made a note to come back to this island and show them how the song really should be sung, but that was for another time. Now he pushed through the crowded tavern towards the table in the corner. A hooded figure was alread at the table and while none could see the features hidden in the hooded cloak, no one had any doubt that the stranger was and Elf and female.

"Telta darlin' I'm glad ya got my message." the voice Erinhue used was not his own but the listener made no sign that she had noticed any difference.

"'Hue" Teltasarwen replied with a smile in her voice, "I've never known you to admit you needed help, how could I not answer such a call."

"I knew you were somewhere in that last town but as you know I couldn't take the chance on meeting with you there. I'm on a scouting mission for the Mithril Knights. I know that you've put in a pettition for membership so I think it would be alright to involve you, if you agree."

Telta waited for him to put forth his request.

"I need you to take a look at whatever's doing in the northern end of Mirkwood Forest. I don't have any real specifics, just look for anything out of the ordinary and make note of it, then meet me at the Kinghts Guildhouse in Mirkwood forest.

Using the palm of her hand as paper Erihue drew out a simple map to the secret entrance of the Guildhouse's entrance in Mirkwood Forest. Telta listened carefully nodded an then left the tavern.

Raghnildur and his mount sped along the Anduin seeking the tavern where he was to meet with Erinhue. He had grieved to leave Lorien in the days before beginning this journey. Walking among the dwelling place of the fabled Galadriel and Celeborn was breathtaking, even if they did no longer dwell there. He found it to be the only place he was restful at heart anymore'but he had turned his heel to that place when he realized that the time was nearing for him to meet his friend and be tested before the Knights. He leaned forward and whispered into Crabanržth's ear, spurring the black stallion forward.

As he sped north up the Anduin and the island of Carrock began to come into view, his heart quickened in his chest. He was nearing the event he had been wishing to happen for years, he was to become a Knight in training. His courage and prowess on the battlefield had been proven many years ago, but never before had he been part of a fellowship of warriors, much less a Guild of lore such as the Mithril Knights. He quickly inventoried all his belongings in his mind, and his hand went to his belt to check his dagger. His coat of mail, his helm, and his braces were tucked away in his pack.

He finally came to the ferry that would take him to the island of Carrock and the beginning of his quest. Paying a few silver to the man out of his purse, he led Crabanržth onto the ferry. A few moments later they stepped onto the island, and the man guided his steed through the village looking for the place called Morgan's Joy. He passed many a villager and did not receive a second glance from one of them. There was certainly nothing special to be seen about the man, save the magnificent horse he led. As he turned a corner, he spied an old run down building. There was no mistaking this place to be a tavern, what with the drunken voices singing obnoxious drinking songs that escaped into the road. Raghnildur led Crabanržth to the water trough, affectionately rubbed his snout, and let the horse satisfy its thirst.

As he approached the tavern, a familiar figure stepped out. An elvish maiden with a hood concealing her face walked past him briskly, and he knew it to be Telta, a fellow bard. She walked with purpose in her stride, so he thought it better not to stop her and to walk inside himself. As he entered the tavern, the noise and smell of the place were near overwhelming. This was obviously a place of merriment, and he wondered how he had not found his way here sooner. He would have to come up north more often. Slowly looking over the place, he found Erinhue sitting at a table in the corner. This was it. He knew Hue from the Bard's Guild, but this was a different situation. Stepping over to the bar, he ordered two pints of the place's finest ale, paid the barkeep, and began to walk toward the Warrior/Bard. He supposed the fact that the man had scouted him should have served to quell his nerves enough, but he was still more nervous than he had been in recent memory as he crossed the room.

Arriving at the table, Raghnildur spoke a hearty 'Mae Govannen, Erinhue!" As the man looked up and smiled, Raghnildur set his pint down in front of him and shook his hand firmly. 'It is good to see you here, my friend. Before we talk of business, I pray you will enjoy the beverage I have brought." Erinhue smiled and agreed, and they indulged in some small talk of their more recent comings and goings over the ale. Not wanting to delay Erinhue any longer, Raghnildur spoke up as he finished his ale and waved at the bartender to bring two more. 'You know how excited I am to begin my training, Hue. Where shall we begin?"

Erinhue began to tell the man what it took to be a Mithril Knight and what he could expect during his training, and the man grew more excited as he went on. The barkeep arrived at the table with two more pints, and Raghnildur paid him with a handsome tip again. Erinhue began to protest, but Raghnildur laughed and said he knew it was good luck to buy a bard a beer, and he would need all the luck he could muster. After taking a good long swig of his ale, he lit his pipe. Drawing deeply and letting the smoke fill his lungs, the man spoke once more. 'Well, Master Erinhue, where do we go from here?"

The elf sat at the table in the darkest corner of the room away from prying eyes. She watched and listened aware of all that went on around her. barmaids rushed to fill orders from demanding patrons who in some cases asking far more than just food and drinks being provided, earning them a coy glance, a stern look or in one instance she distinctly heard the sound of a slap.

The patrons were well into their cups if the boisterous singing and loud cheering were anything to go by. A couple of men tried to engage her in conversation but when they got no response they lost interest and left in search of friendlier company.

In the shadow provided by her hooded cloak a smile tugged at the corners of the elf's mouth as she listened to the singing minstrel. He certainly was putting on a show.

For a moment her line of sight was clear and sky blue eyes met sea grey ones. Recognition passed between them before her view was once again obscured.

Her smile faded as she remembered the cryptic message she had received asking her to meet him here after the failed attempt in the last town. Hue asking for her help to begin with was rare and it both puzzled and intrigued her. Something was going on and if he needed her help, indeed had to ask for it, it was not good.

She watched as he approached her table through the crowded room his actions and manner truly that of the wandering minstrel right down to his disguised voice.

Telta listened carefully as he explained why he had sought her out. Wanting her to head for northern Mirkwood Forest a place she once knew so well, brought a hundred questions to mind like Why was he on this scouting mission? What had it to do with the Mithril Knights? What was he looking for? What should she expect to find? But she remained silent as he continued aware that their time together could be cut short.

She went over his words 'to seek out anything out of the ordinary', as he took her hand and drew upon it the location of the Guildhouse entrance. A secret well kept by those who knew of it. A secret now entrusted to her.

Voices called out for another song from the 'wandering minstrel' and Telta took this as her cue to slip out and head for Mirkwood Forest. There was no time for goodbyes but a quick understanding passed between them and he lightly squeezed her hand to convey what words could not...be safe. She nodded her thanks and before she left the tavern he was already being surrounded by noisy tavern goers shouting for another song.

Strains of yet another song followed her out into the night. As she stepped away from the tavern she was aware of someone going in but her mind was already on the journey ahead but somewhere inside she knew who it was. Just as quickly as the name GandalfStormcrow came to mind it got lost in her thoughts as she moved on fading into the night her direction should anyone have taken notice was northeast heading for Mirkwood Forest.

'Well, Master Erinhue, where do we go from here?"

A smile squinted from Erinhue's uncovered left eye as he heard Raghnildur's words. So eager for the task, he thought as he studied the journeyman bard's face, even though you have no idea what it is I could be sending you to meet. It was one of the things he liked about the young man.

Teltasarwen was an old friend and long term member of his own Bard's Guild. She was well able to take care of herself and Erinhue knew for a fact that her petition to join the Mithril Knights was already under consideration. There was no need to warn her about the type things that could possibly occur. He did not know Raghnildur well enough to make the same assumptions.

'We are not going anywhere, Raghnildur and if anyone should ask, you have not seen me for at least a month. Now you must understand that while the matter does indeed concerns the Knights and the task is of some importance to them, you are doing this favor for me. The Guild will decide who enters the ranks and who does not. I would not have you operating under any false pretense."

The young man assured him that he fully understood and Erinhue smiled at him again. In the next breath all trace of amused affection vanished from his tone and manner. He told Ragnildur something of recent events and of his last encounter with the dwarves of the Red Hammer.

'And dwarves are not the half of it." Erinhue concluded. 'There is a shadowy group of so called knights that have been at the root of some very strange goings on. Last week I was in Rhosgobel, a middling sized town down river from here. For reasons I won't go into now I had to make a rather hasty exit but not before I put a few whisperings together that made a bit of highly possible truth.

What I want you to do is to go back there, to Rhosgobel and watch the Great East Road. Watch for three days and nights but no more. If what I think was truth then you should see something by then or I have missed the mark. Whatever might occur, in three day's time you make for the Guildhouse in Mirkwood Forest."

As he had done with Telta, Erinhue took Rhosgobel's hand and drew out a sort of map to the hidden entrance to the Mirkwood Guildhouse of the Mithril Knights.

With that done, Erinhue made to raise from his seat. 'Wait until I start the second tune before you leave and bright blessings to you on the road. With Iluvatar's blessing we shall meet again at the Guildhouse."

Erinhue downed the last contents of his mug and stood up. He looked around for a moment and a confused expression came over his disguised face. He turned to look back at Raghnildur with a slight frown wrinkling his brow. 'Have you seen my harp?"

Shrugging with well worn patience Erinhue sighed " I suppose Agarak got bored. This really isn't his sort of place." Resigned to singing without any accompaniment, the bard nodded goodbye and stepped up to the cleared area beside the bar that served for his stage.

Meanwhile....a few weeks prior....whilst in Lothlorien, Elbren had examined several petitions to join the Mithril Knights Guild. Letters had been sent in reply to petitions received...sealed with the mark of the Mithril Knights, each letter found its way to the intended recipient....

To Raghnildur, Falathiel, and Teltasarewen was sent:

Hasten with all speed to the North of Middle Earth and seek Lord Erinhue, Knight of the Runed Sword and Bard Exemplar. Travel carefully as the lands are not safe, especially to the North. Lord Erinhue shall be awaiting thee.

Varda keep thee safe

Lord Elbren

***********************

To Leane and Riencuran was sent:

Make your way to Mirkwood for I shall be leaving for that land very soon; seek the Mithril Knight Guild House in the caves of King Thranduil. You must present yourself to the Border Guards and show them this parchment for admittance. Ask for me, Lord Elbren. Travel safe; the lands are dangerous at this time.

Varda keep thee safe

Lord Elbren

A month out of Minas Tirith, Jiyadan at last arrived within the borders of Thranduil's woodland realm. Mirkwood was its name of recent history, but with the passage of the Wars it had been renamed Eryn Lasgalen; yet still the old names were slow to change in people's speech. He had already traveled beside the forest for just under a fortnight, having ridden east of East Lorien and then through the edges of the forest to avoid Esgaroth and settlements further down the river, and was eager to reach his destination.

After receiving word from his former protŽgŽ of Rholarowyn's summons to Harad and subsequent return to Minas Tirith, he had felt the pull to offer her his help, as she had once helped him. He knew a few scattered details of the battles she faced, and though an oath bound them, he would have come even without one. Now, he raced to reach her.

Jiyadan cursed his luck once again, having done so at least once a day on this journey. If he had known she would be so close he could have ridden directly to Mirkwood from the Dorwinion plains instead of traveling to Minas Tirith, costing him valuable weeks. He then had to remind himself that when he left the sea of Rhun she had not yet been traveling to Mirkwood, having only missed her at Minas Tirith by a week. Unknown to him, he had made better time than sheand was now only two days behind her arrival, but he was still not sure exactly where he was going.

He had been slowed down at the White City, but not overly. It seemed that the guards there weren't brave enough to entirely inhibit such an imposing figure. Jiyadan had dressed in his court attire for the occasion, knowing that visiting dignitaries received less hassle at the gates, and had made his way relatively unhindered to Rholarowyn's estate. Those there either knew him, or knew of him, and so he was directed without delay to the Mithril Knights Guild house within the city.

Those at the Guild house had only told him to go to the halls of Thranduil, and that from there he would be escorted to the Guild house. He only hoped it was not much further. Jiyadan knew little of the geography of this area. He knew only to follow where the Forest River exited the woods and this would take him to the main gates of the Elven King's halls. So this is what he had done, and now, at long last, he had come into sight of them. While traveling through the forest, he knew that there must be eyes watching him from all sides but was actually surprised he was not stopped. From the banks of the river where a bridge crossed, the land sloped up to the great stone gates. An avenue of trees led down to the bridge on the south side but Jiyadan had followed the river and instead came upon it from the east.

Approaching the bridge, the Easterling became intensely aware of a presence to his left, hidden within the trees. Pulling Nothea to a halt, he raised his hands slightly to show himself peaceful. Almost as if having been invisible before, a tall Elven warrior appeared before him, stepping out of the trees. "What business does an Easterling have in these woods?" the Elf asked coldly.

"I seek the Guild house of the Mithril Knights." Jiyadan replied.

The Elf studied him a moment then signaled almost imperceptibly and two more warriors stepped from the woods, their bows drawn and trained on the man. "You will dismount and follow me," the first said. Jiyadan nodded and slowly let himself to the ground, taking Nothea by the reigns and following the Elf.

He was lead across the bridge and into the intricately carved stone gates. There he was blindfolded and his wrists bound, then led down many passageways, it seemed, before being brought to a halt. Along the way could hear the soft clop of his horse's hooves behind him though he no longer held the reigns. His escort was silent, his presence known only by the hand upon his shoulder, until at last he was told to stop.

A new voice then spoke. 'Who is this that you have led here bound as an enemy?"

The voice of the Elf replied, 'He is an Easterling. Surely you do not expect the old enemies to be welcomed with open arms."

'Why do you bring him here, then, and not to the King?"

'He claims to seek the Mithril Knights."

'Remove his bindings," the new voice said. 'I will take charge of him."

The cloth was taken from his eyes and he beheld the scene around him. Jiyadan did not know how far within the earth he was, but the lanterns upon the wall lit the room brightly. He took a quick scan and saw that the same three Elves still accompanied him, one leading his horse and another still with drawn weapon, held loosely.

The man before him, though, seemed less troubled with his race than his treatment and he felt a small amount of relief over that. 'Why have you sought us out?" the man asked.

'I seek the Lady Rholarowyn of Gondor. I was told I would find her at the Mithril Knight's Guild house in Mirkwood."

'Indeed you shall, for you have now arrived, and she is here also. Come with me."

Jiyadan was led into the Guild house while a servant came and took Nothea to the stables. He was shown to a small sitting room and told to wait while the man went on to summon Rholarowyn. He sat and waited quietly, feeling not so much ill at ease but in a state of somewhat hightened alert with such unfamiliar surroundings.

He didn't have to wait long, however, before he heard footsteps approaching and Rho walked into the room. He immediately stood and bowed, smiling at the woman he had not seen in almost a year. The look on her face at seeing him was one of pure astonishment.

"Jiyadan!" She reached out and grasped his forearm warmly first with one hand then the other. There was a moment of hesitation for the shieldmadien, then she released her grasp and gave him a warm embrace. "It is good to see you my friend."

The Easterling was stunned momentarily, having not expected such a response, but he softened quickly and soon returned her embrace. When she released him she continued. "You are about the last person I would expect to see this far North. Tell me what brings you here?"

'I have come to repay a debt," he replied solemnly. 'You once risked much to protect myself and Moujhadin. When I learned of your need for help, that you yet had battles to face, I knew I had to come. I am now here to honour the friendship that binds us and offer my sword in aid."

"We could use all the help we can get; I fear that this situation is larger than what we first thought. Any assistance is welcome even if it's just for the short term."

'You once told me about this order, and I believe they are both noble and just in their fight. I do not wish to help only for the short term, Rholarowyn, but to join you."

"Join me....you mean you...you wish to join the Mithril Knights?" Rho replied stunned.

The Easterling nodded. 'If you will have me, then yes." He knew the complications that his blood could cause, but hoped that with Rho vouching for him, he might be allowed to at least prove himself.

"Well first you will need to speak to Lord Elbren and the sooner the better if this is your wish. Come with me I know where he is."

Jiyadan followed the shield-maiden from the small room and towards his uncertain future. As they walked down the strange halls, Rho questioned him as to how he found her here. He recounted his journey from Dorwinion to Minas Tirith and then to Mirkwood, not having quite enough time to finish his tale before they reached what Rho told him was the library and pushed the doors open.

It was exquisitely furnished and the fire and rugs gave it a comfortable yet stately feel. Standing beside one of the walls of books and parchment stood and Elf. His age, as with all Elves, was not to be guessed, but his stature immediately betrayed him as a Lord of great wisdom and leadership. Rho approached the Elven Lord and introduced Jiyadan as he bowed deeply but kept his eyes on the Elf's. 'Lord Elbren, this is Jiyadan. He is both a friend to me and an ally to the West. Jiyadan, this is the Lord Elbren, the head of our order."

Jiyadan straightened and placed his closed hand over his heart. 'Lord Elbren," he began, bowing once more, though not as low. "I am Jiyadan Mohi ims'Khajah, Asri ims'tam Ha'a Kishvit, son of Khahivteh, former El Zikher to his Highness, Prince Rizwan of the Kingdom of Near Harad.

"I have come to offer my aid and, if you accept, seek entrance to your order as a Mithril Knight, to submit to your authority, and to pledge my sword in defense of the free peoples of Middle-Earth."

Her steps were light and quick as she wound her way through an old elf-path long unused. Since leaving Hue at the tavern she had travelled quickly not finding anything worth reporting between Carrock and the edge of Mirkwood. If there was indeed something here in the forest she had yet to find any sign of it. Perhaps Hue's information had been wrong was the last thought she had just before she stumbled into a well concealed camp.

'OVER THERE!!" a voiced called out before she had time to react and the sounds of armour clad bodies running echoed throughout the forest. They were no longer hiding their presence as they gave chase to the intruder. Telta fled before her pursuers. She had been careless and now she was paying for it.

Thud...someone had fallen. The night was proving to be her greatest ally as another fell tripped she suspected by unseen roots and vines. They were hindered by the darkness giving her some small advantage with her keen elvish eyes which were better equipped to see in the dark. She ducked as several arrows flew by her head. They had been fired blindly hoping to bring her down. One lodged in the tree where her head a been but a moment before. Some forest dweller cried out. It had not been so fortunate.

'Did you get him?" So they did not know she was female. The cloak that she wore had hidden her features well. 'No." came the frustrated and angry reply. 'Then send another volley." she heard in the distance the rest of the conversation lost to her as she lengthened the distance between herself and her pursuers.

Avoiding the tree in front of her she stepped around it's wide trunk and was halfway through before she saw that her path ahead and on both sides had been effectively cut off. Trees long since fallen and overgrown with vines blocked her way. She had trapped herself. It was at least four times her height and straight up. Going over it was out of the question.

Testing the wall of vines and trees it was no use. Given time she could have found a way out but time was not on her side. Her pursuers were nearly upon her. She was wondering now just who had the advantage. Footsteps drew closer. There must be something a small crevice, a hole anything would...there! Her hand pushed through some loose vines though it did not go in far. It was enough. There was no choice. Pulling her cloak closer to her she quickly climbed in replacing the curtain of vines in front of her.

As still as stone she remained waiting, watching, dagger drawn and ready while sky blue eyes peered from the darkest shadows of her hood . Three of them appeared. Moving cautiously they searched the area once they realized there was no escape, jabbing their swords into the vine tangled mass. One came so close that she could have reached out and touched him. His sword cut into the vines not two inches from her shoulder. Two more showed up and he turned towards them. 'Anything?" one of them asked. To her relief 'No." was the answer once again. Some distant noise caught their attention and they moved off satisfied that their intruder was not here. But the one closest to her turned back and peered into the dark. She held her breath. He gave the vines one last jab.

Metal pierced flesh the sensation painful but tolerable. Telta remained still. If he should look at the blade of his sword...he did not. His disgruntled 'Bah' indicated his disappointment. He followed the two others who had stopped and watched perhaps hoping to have a part in 'his' capture, their armour noisy as they moved away.

She waited and listened as the footsteps faded into the distance. And yet she still waited until she was sure. Satisfied that all had left the immediate area she quickly disentangled herself.

Warmth trickled down her side. Her hand came away red with her blood. She lifted her tunic and blouse to get a better look. The wound though painful was not deep. The blade had cut her side just above her waist. Ripping the bottom of her blouse into two strips she took one and folded it making a dressing to soak up the blood and with the other she used it to wrap around her middle to hold the dressing in place. It would do for now. She had no time to worry about it. Hue wanted her back in at the guildhouse and she had many miles to travel.

The elf retraced her steps and finding her way clear she headed towards the Mirkwood Mountains and the Mithril Knights Guildhouse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Telta stood within the walls of the guildhouse. She had shown the guard the parchment before she was allowed to enter. He was she thought at first, going to deny her entry as he looked her over from head to toe. She looked back at him pushing her hood down. Telta knew how she must look to him her clothes torn, dirty and stained with blood. It was not as easy as it should have been for her to lose her pursuers but lose them she did. Not daring to stop she had made her way here and still she was well past the hour.

She held in her hand the parchment sent to her by Elbren. It was as in bad a shape as she was crumpled worn and dirty. But considering what she went through to get it here she was happy to see it had made it in one piece. She knew without looking the few words written upon it...

Hasten with all speed to the North of Middle Earth and seek Lord Erinhue, Knight of the Runed Sword and Bard Exemplar. Travel carefully as the lands are not safe, especially to the North. Lord Erinhue shall be awaiting thee.

Varda keep thee safe

Lord Elbren

She had long been waiting for the reply and when it had come she was ready no matter the danger. Though here, now, her appearance in her travel worn clothes covered in dirt and dried blood she did not think she was acceptable to be seen by anyone. Handing the parchment to another who had politely asked for it he turned to leave and before he did she thought to ask after Erinhue.

'It shall be looked after." he replied before leaving her. She waited aware of her unkempt looks fervently wishing for a bath.

'Why do you tarry in these distant lands; remote, cold

You are far away bound, seeking answers beyond this world

The Sea murmurs a haunting song; the wind passes through the silent halls

Listen! Will you answer their call?

The land knows your heart; it is bound to the earth

But your destiny lies not here, by the stable or the hearth

You belong elsewhere; beneath the stars let your spirit take flight

Return to your home, the lands beyond the northern lights."

Like a quiet whisper the words came through the air of Imladris, causing the young, golden-haired maiden looked up from the book of lore she had been reading.

Leaning out of the window, LŽan‘ searched for the one who sang this song that pierced her heart with its haunting words, in a way she did not quite understand. But there was no one there. Shrugging, LŽan‘ returned to her book and was soon engrossed again.

She had only been reading for a short while, when a soft knock sounded at her door. 'LŽan‘? Are you there?" came a quiet voice. LŽan‘ laid her book aside and walked quickly to the door. Opening it, LŽan‘ grinned at the Elf who stood there, his hand raised to knock again. 'Ohtar! This is a surprise," said LŽan‘. 'What brings you here?" A thought suddenly struck her, and looking slightly shame-faced, she hurriedly continued, 'Oh, no! Is it already time for my lesson? I am so sorry! It is this book; I..." The dark-haired Elf laughed, his grey eyes twinkling, and shook his head. 'It is all right, my friend. That is not why I am here. No... I have a message for you," he said, and held out the letter he carried. 'For me?" asked LŽan‘, puzzled, as she took the letter, and looked at it. And then she saw the seal. Suddenly, she felt rather light-headed and weak-kneed. 'It's... it's... from the Mithril Knights!" she said faintly, leaning on the door for support. 'Ah, so the answer to your petition has arrived at last!" smiled Ohtar. 'I am sure you are eager to see what it says, so I will leave you now." LŽan‘ swallowed, nodding, and murmured a distracted 'Thank you' to the Elf. She needed to sit down. She managed to make her way to the table, and sit down on the chair, hardly noticing Ohtar leave.

LŽan‘ sat and stared at the letter for a long time. She was too scared to open it. This is what she had been waiting for, for months now. And now... 'Grow up, LŽan‘! Stop behaving like a scared little girl!" she chided herself. 'You are a warrior! A Shieldmaiden!" She took a deep breath, and gingerly broke the seal and opened the letter...

To LŽan‘, Shieldmaiden of Rohan

Make your way to Mirkwood for I shall be leaving for that land very soon; seek the Mithril Knight Guild House in the caves of King Thranduil. You must present yourself to the Border Guards and show them this parchment for admittance. Ask for me, Lord Elbren. Travel safe; the lands are dangerous at this time.

Varda keep thee safe

Lord Elbren

LŽan‘'s grey eyes widened in amazement, and she read the letter again, sure she had seen wrong. But, no. She had not been mistaken. The Lord Elbren himself was to mentor her on her quest to become a Mithril Knight! It was beyond what she had expected. She read the letter once again, and this time her eyes fell on the word that told her where she had been summoned. Mirkwood. Greenwood the Great of old. Or, as it was now known, the Wood of Greenleaves, Eryn Lasgalen. That was a journey of a few weeks, if everything went well, and she rode hard. Her heart gave an excited lurch, a sense of adventure filling her head, causing her eyes to sparkle. It was all beginning at last...

LŽan‘ jumped up, suffused with energy, and began to quickly prepare for her journey. She decided to wear what she usually did while travelling: a black jerkin with a wide flaring collar and three-quarter sleeves, laced up in front, over a white shirt with longer, slightly voluminous sleeves; black form-fitting pants and black leather boots that came up above her knees. She quickly stuffed Lord Elbren's letter, and a few essential things into her pack, and then left her room for the armoury, where her weapons, except the wrist knives and daggers, were kept. It seemed that Ohtar had already been to the armoury, and told the Elves of her journey, for when LŽan‘ arrived there, the Elves there told her that they had already sent her weapons, as well as a pack filled with spare food and warm clothes and blankets, to the stables; everything was in readiness for her journey. LŽan‘ thanked them, grateful for their thoughtfulness, and made her way to the stables. She found her stallion, Storm, already saddled, and many Elves were there as well, come to bid her farewell.

She girt her long-sword, Hailen‘, at her side, and eased her shield onto her shoulders, once again thanking the Elves for their many kindnesses, and then lightly mounted Storm. Clean-limbed and strong, his dark grey coat glistening, his mane braided on his proud neck, Storm snorted once and reared, eager to be away after so many weeks of idleness.

And so, as the Sun reached its zenith, LŽan‘ waved a cheery farewell to the Elves, crossed the bridge and rode slowly up the long steep paths that led out of the cloven vale of fair Rivendell, and at length came to the high moor where the a light wind was blowing through the heather. With one last glance at the Last Homely House below, she wheeled Storm around and headed towards the High Pass in the Misty Mountains.

*****************

Many days of hard riding followed, with LŽan‘ only stopping to camp when the Sun had sunk well beyond the Western horizon, and riding out again as the Eastern sky began to lighten. Storm bore her towards her goal swiftly, sensing LŽan‘'s excitement, and sharing it. She was keen to reach Eryn Lasgalen, to walk in the halls of the Elven king, to see the Guild House of the Knights, and to begin her training.

For the most part her journey was uneventful, and for that LŽan‘ was thankful. The journey over the Mountains had been harsh, although she had not met with any danger, and time and time again her thoughts rose in grateful acknowledgment of the foresight of the Elves, who had given her the provisions that had already proved highly useful more than once.

LŽan‘ reached the edge of Mirkwood that lay near the border of the Great River, on the nineteenth day since her journey began, just as the faintest light could be seen in the Eastern skies, having ridden the last two days without stopping. She was simply too eager to reach her destination. Tired yet exhilarated, LŽan‘ knew the last stage of her journey was in front of her. If what she had heard from the Elves of Rivendell was right, and by her own calculations, a day's hard riding, and she would reach the Forest River, and following it, come to the gates of King Tranduil's halls. She wondered if she should not continue her journey right away, but then thought better of it. Storm was tired, and so was she. She knew she had taken a rather roundabout way to reach this place, but this was the only route that had seemed easiest to her, though long. She did not want to get lost, not when... Well, that didn't matter now. She was nearly there. Again, she wondered if she should leave right away, and glanced over to where Storm stood, grazing peacefully in the growing light. No, better to rest a while; gather her strength, before continuing. But LŽan‘ meant to reach the Mithril Knights' Guild House before dark, if she could.

And so after three hours, she set off once again, her heart high within her, her mood light and excited. Soon, soon, soon...

At last, she saw the river, her journey's end. Almost. The light had begun to fade; dusk was fast approaching. LŽan‘ had made good time, better than she had hoped, for she had expected to reach the Forest River at night.

She slowed Storm's pace down to a canter, and slowly made her way towards the great forest of Mirkwood. As she entered the Forest, immediately several guards surrounded her, arrows already fitted to their bowstrings, telling her to halt. LŽan‘ pulled at Storm's reins lightly, and he stopped, stamping the ground. She dismounted and turned to face the guard nearest to her, and lifted her hands, palms open, to show she meant no harm. One of them, a tall, dark-haired Elf, strode forward and said, 'You are far from your home, daughter of Rohan. What business have you here?" 'I seek Lord Elbren, leader of the Mithril Knights," replied LŽan‘. 'I was told he would be here." She grabbed her pack off Storm's back and searched through it, finally bringing out the letter that had been sent to her, and handing it over to the guard. He read it quickly, and then looked at her and nodded to the other guards. They lowered their bows, and melted back into the trees. Only the guard who had spoken to her remained. 'Follow me," he said, and strode away. LŽan‘ shrugged, and followed, leading Storm.

Soon they reached the bridge that led across the river to the Elven king's doors. LŽan‘ stared at them in awe. The water flowed dark and swift and strong beneath; and at the far end were the great gates before the mouth of a huge cave. Across the bridge strode the Elven guard, and LŽan‘, after the slightest hesitations, followed. The guard, who was named Arcalimon, led LŽan‘ down along many twisting, crossing and echoing paths, until at last they reached a great hall with pillars hewn out of the living stone and lit with many lamps. Here they were met by several other Elves, and Arcalimon went a little way away with them and spoke to them in a low, quiet voice. LŽan‘ stood, and waited, taking in her surroundings. Finally Arcalimon back to where LŽan‘ stood, accompanied by two other Elves. 'This is where I must leave you. Galion will take your horse to the stables, and Aranel will lead to the Guild House. Fare you well, LŽan‘ of Rohan, and may you succeed on your noble quest to become a Mithril Knight." He bowed to her gravely and left. The she-Elf, Aranel, smiled at LŽan‘, and said, 'Come, I am sure you are eager to see the Guild House." LŽan‘ smiled back, surrendered Storm's reins to Galion, and followed Aranel as she led the way to the Guild House.

Aranel proved be a cheerful companion, full of stories and chatter. 'Just like a Hobbit," thought LŽan‘, and wanted to laugh. 'Here we are," Aranel said cheerily, as she pushed open a door, and went in. LŽan‘ followed, and found herself in a small room, a lounge of sorts. A fire was burning brightly in the stone hearth, filling the room with a warm glow. 'Wait here, I will go and see if Lord Elbren will see you now," said Aranel, and disappeared through a door on the other side of the room. LŽan‘ settled down on one of the chairs near the fire to wait. She did not have to wait long. Only a few minutes passed when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. She leapt up, her heart thudding loudly in her ears, and looked towards the door, tense and expectant.

Jiyadan straightened and placed his closed hand over his heart. 'Lord Elbren," he began, bowing once more, though not as low. "I am Jiyadan Mohi ims'Khajah, Asri ims'tam Ha'a Kishvit, son of Khahivteh, former El Zikher to his Highness, Prince Rizwan of the Kingdom of Near Harad.

"I have come to offer my aid and, if you accept, seek entrance to your order as a Mithril Knight, to submit to your authority, and to pledge my sword in defense of the free peoples of Middle-Earth."

Elbren turned from his study of the book in his hands and saw Jiyadan standing before him. Casting Rho a questioning glance, Elbren bowed slightly before the Easterling Prince.

"Mae Govannon," Elbren said quietly, studying the man who stood before him.

The Guild Master was slightly stunned, to say the least. Traditionally, the Mithril Knights were best known in the lands of West, North, and Central Middle Earth, not the East or South; and yet, two Easterlings were now in the Guild House...one of them actively seeking to join the Order.

"I am sorry," Elbren smiled, "forgive my silence. I must be honest and say that I am more than surprised to hear your request. I was not aware of our Order being seen in such a light by your People."

"He is well known to me," Rho interjected, "a trusted friend and ally."

"Yes," Elbren put down the book and found a seat near the roaring fire, "I can see the trust that is shared between the two of you. And with you and Tallain as well."

"You must know, though, that at the present time, we are facing a powerful enemy that comes from the East...and we are being cautious, perhaps overly so, with accepting new members into our ranks," Elbren continued, "but I must also say that I am most impressed that you would venture such a great distance to seek us out...and...perhaps the time has come to ally the South with the Free Peoples against such an enemy."

Elbren smoothed the front of his robes, "And to welcome the Southern folk into the Mithril Knight Order."

Rho gave a knowing glance at Jiyadan, "I will be his Knight Mentor, if you approve, Elbren."

"Oh?" Elbren looked up quickly, "hmm...I had thought to perhaps assign another Knight, but very well...so be it. Why don't you show Jiyadan to guest quarters and make sure that he is comfortable? I do have a task that is most important, though it may not seem so at first."

"And what is that?" Rho asked.

"I want to have a message delivered to the Elven colony in Southern Mirkwood," he replied, "it is a short journey, but nonetheless dangerous. You must not only avoid the Red Hammer, but I suspect that the Knights of the Silmaril have been ejected by the Red Hammer King by now....they may be on the move...perhaps even on the hunt."

Jiyadan's puzzled look was understandable.

"Rho can explain who they are," Elbren nodded, "in the meantime, get some rest and then supply yourself. Rho will take you to the armoury and allow you to take an object of your choosing and will guide you in that as well. Mae Govannon to you, again, and welcome." Then, pausing as in reflection, "I also would like to learn the tongue of your people, Jiyadan, when time allows."

*************************************

Just as soon as Jiyadan and Rho had left the room, a Mithril Knight entered and bowed in greeting.

"M'lord, an Elf named Teltasarewen has arrived with this," the Knight showed the tattered parchment to the Guild Master.

"Ah," Elbren smiled, "one of Erinhue's Bards, I see, good!"

"Oh, that reminds me, Lord Erinhue has arrived as well, M'lord."

Elbren's eyes snapped up with surprise and excitement, "Indeed?! And no one has told me before now? Where is he?"

"I can take you to him, M'lord, he is in one of the front chambers of the House."

"I will find him myself...after I speak to Teltasarewen. Bring her in, please."

Minutes later, a very tired, travel worn Elf stood before Elbren, presenting herself as a Knight in Training.

"I see that you are wounded," Elbren greeted, "and we must tend to that. But, be welcome and know that I am pleased to meet you. You came from the North?"

The Elven lady nodded, gently touching her hair, and Elbren was aware of how uncomfortable she was in her present state.

"Damrod!" Elbren called out and a servant instantly appeared within the doorway, "take our new Knight in Training to guest quarters and make sure that her wound is tended. We will also to mending your clothing and offering you food and a hot bath," Elbren smiled, "Lord Erinhue, your Knight Mentor, has also arrived, you shall see him soon, methinks. Be welcome, Teltasarewen, I would like to speak to you of your journey here once you are tended. Namarie."

Elbren was on his way to see Erinhue when Aranel nearly ran him over in the hallway.

"Oh, I am so sorry, Lord Elbren!" she flushed with embarrassment, "forgive me!"

"Forgiven, dear girl," Elbren laughed, "why are you in such a hurry at such an early hour?"

"Or late hour, depending on how you look at it, M'lord," Aranel replied, "I was seeking you, actually. YOu have a visitor, LŽan‘ , who has a letter from you regarding her joining the Order."

"LŽan‘ ? Yes....from Rohan...but she was being tutored in Rivendell..I remember. Where is she? I was on my way to see Erinhue, but I shall see her first."

"She is in the first chamber, M'lord, awaiting you."

"Thank you, Aranel...and try not to knock anyone else off their feet if you can help it!" Elbren waved farewell to her and made his way down the short passage to the first chamber.

The lady awaiting him in the chamber was undoubtedly Rohirrim, and though she looked slightly nervous, she also looked strong.

"Greetings,LŽan‘," Elbren spoke as he entered the room, and then began to speak in the Rohirrim language, "welcome to the Mirkwood Guild House of our Order. You made good time from Rivendell, yes?"

LŽan‘ smiled and nodded, "Yes, M'lord."

"I trust that my Uncle Celeborn is doing well?" Elbren asked.

"Yes, I believe he is," LŽan‘ replied.

"Good....good. I know that you must be tired, and I would not press you for the tale of your journey until you have rested and eaten. I shall show you to the guest quarters where you may take care of your needs...and then we can talk later of your journey and of your training."

"Yes, M'lord," LŽan‘ smiled.

Elbren gestured for her to follow him, and with a few turns down the south passage, he showed her to a small, but comfortable bed chamber. "I shall have food sent to you momentarily and a bath drawn as well. Your clothes will be mended and ere we set out on our task, we shall visit the armoury from whence you may take a single item of your choosing....with my approval, of course."

"Set out? Shall we be leaving soon, M'lord?"

"Yes," Elbren frowned slightly, "ere we leave for Esgaroth, we have a message to deliver. I shall take you and one more with me for this task. But do not worry, we will not leave today! Rest...and in one hour, you can join the Order in the Dining Hall where we are having a celebratory breakfast for our new Initiates. For now, namarie."

Raghnildur carefully watched as Erinhue traced the map to the Guildhouse on his hand, committing the subtle movements to memory. Receiving instructions from his mentor, he set his mind to the task that lay ahead of him. A few swigs of ale remained in his mug, which he polished off as the Master Bard and Knight stood to his feet and began his song. The place erupted with one voice as soon as his song had begun, as if the whole thing had been rehearsed. A broad smile crossed Raghnildur's face, and he decided to sit and enjoy these last few moments before he set out.

As the final notes of Master Hue's song faded and the next song began, Raghnildur stood to his feet, took a deep breath and calmly walked out of the tavern. He retrieved Crabanržth from the water trough, and swiftly attached the horse's feedbag to its mouth. There were many miles ahead of them, and the horse would need to keep its strength. As Crabanržth ate his meal, Raghnildur began to prepare for the journey. He did not want to appear too aggressive, in case these so called Knights he was to scout caught on to him. However, in the same token, he must obviously prepare himself for whatever would come his way. He knew Rhosgobel was roughly twelve leagues from Carrock, which would take ten hours leaving his horse enough energy for a getaway if things went awry. Donning his mail coat and covering it with his cloak, he removed his sword from his saddle and attached it to his hip. He removed the feedbag from Crabanržth and stowed it in one of the saddlebags, patted the horse on the muzzle and drew a deep breath once more. Inclining his head to touch Crabanržth's with his forehead, he whispered.

ç mahta failain, poicain r‡,

tain lau p—lim‘ maht' erinqua

TŽrass‘ lau Žro tari‘ n‡,

i ohtalanda s’ n‡ marinya.*)

As he finished, he swung up onto his mount, turned the horse around, and approached the ferry again at a canter. He paid the man his fee once more, and within minutes he was again on the east bank of the Anduin, and set off towards Rhosgobel.

It was late that night when he arrived, to his advantage. He was able to locate an above adequate hiding place along the Great East Road in which to leave Crabanržth while he stalked the night. With a soothing stroke of his hand, the horse was quite calm and Raghnildur had no fear that the beast would wander off. He set off walking toward the village along the side of the road, where he could conceal himself quickly and silently if the need arose. He found a small thicket that was nicely concealed and tucked away inside it, carefully watching the perimeter of the village that was visible to him. Several hours passed by.

Just as sleep was striving to overtake him, a glint of the rising sun caught his eye on the other side of the road. A man dressed in black mail was walking into the city. Raghnildur shook the weariness from his mind, and stretched his muscles inside the thicket. The man entered the village, and Raghnildur left his hiding place to follow. Stealth would be difficult with the advance of the morning, so extra caution would be needed. Peering around the corner of the first building he came to, he saw the knight enter a small inn to his right. At least he would be able to enter and sit at the bar without too much cause for suspicion. He waited for fifteen minutes, then entered the inn.

Apparently it was fairly normal for people to attend such establishments this early in Rhosgobel, for there were many who had been through their share of the brew in the place. Raghnildur sidled up to the bar and ordered a flagon of cider, lit his pipe and settled into his stool with ears listening to every word that passed through the room. He had seen the knight at a corner table with companions in like dress as he entered, so he strained to focus his attention there while looking nowhere in particular. Fortunately most in the room were quiet drunks, so it was not entirely difficult to eavesdrop on the conversation in the corner. The words 'Mithril Knights' and 'Silmaril' came up often, and Raghnildur knew he had succeeded in finding the group Erinhue had sent him to scout. This clan was fairly blatant in their hatred of the Mithril Knights, and some of what Raghnildur heard brought his blood to boil. How he would have enjoyed battling with them right now'

An empty mug slammed down on the bar beside him. As he looked up from his flagon and pipe, his eyes met with yet another man in black mail. The man sneered at Raghnildur, belched and began to try to converse snidely. Raghnildur knew better than to provoke the man, for he was outnumbered by six or seven. He tried to escape further conversation, but to no avail. This man had indulged in far too large a share of drink, and was being far too loud in his conversation for Raghnildur's taste at that particular moment. He knew attention was being drawn to his presence by everyone in the room by this fool, and that would not do. He politely tried to excuse himself and slid a small pile of silver across the bar, and stood to his feet. Bowing slightly to the man and asking pardon for cutting their talk short, he tried to walk to the door. The man stood in his way, muttering something about how people's manners were not as developed in Rhosgobel as he remembered.

Raghnildur again tried to pass the man, and again the man stood in his way. This would not do. Raghnildur apologized through gritted teeth once more at his lack of nicety, and pushed past the man. As he walked out the door into the road, looking for just how far away he had indeed hidden his mount, he heard footsteps following and the creak of the tavern door. He did not have to turn around to know who had followed him out, but he could only pray that the rest of the group would not follow. He felt a push from behind, and turned around to see the same man in black mail standing before him, grinning oddly. 'Not often that we have outsiders here in Rhosgobel," the man said. 'We come here often to rest from our journeys, why is it that I have not seen your face before? What brings you to Rhosgobel anyway?"

Raghnildur knew by the man's manner that he was prodding for a confrontation, but he also knew that he would not be so brave if he did not hve six fellows in the building behind him. Swordplay would have Raghnildur killed or captured in moments, so that must be avoided. In order to lure the man away from his company, Raghnildur continued to walk away from him. The man followed him, his voice raising with each step. Just as Raghnildur though the man was sure to draw his weapon, his eyes caught the branch he had broken to mark Crabanržth's hiding place. He stopped, and the man nearly ran into him before he could stop himself. Before turning around, his hand went to his sword and unhooked the safety latch on the scabbard. He had finally had enough, this stranger who was overconfident enough to follow him for half a mile away from the tavern and his friends. Raghnildur turned to the man.

Smiling saccharinely, the knight made a comment about Raghnildur's lack of manners and bravery for not responding to his taunting earlier. Before he could speak again, Raghnildur's hand had grabbed his long hair and his dagger was at his throat. 'If I choose to talk to you, you will know it," he growled. 'As it is, I do not remember showing any intention of carrying on a conversation, and I do not appreciate your candor in following me all the way out here. Do I make myself inescapably clear?" As he finished these last words, an arrow whistled past his left ear and he looked up to see three others dressed in black mail running toward him. He quickly smashed the hilt of his dagger into the knight's temple and snatched the man's glove as he fell to the ground. After a shrill whistle from his master, Crabanržth came bounding out of concealment and Raghnildur leapt onto his back. Crouching low, the man fiercely whispered the word 'ramya'** into the horse's ear, and they took off like a shot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over a day later, the horse and rider eased up to the Mithril Knights' Guildhouse in Mirkwood. As Raghnildur dismounted his horse and approached the door, the guard asked him what his business was. Raghnildur explained that he had done scouting on behalf of Master Erinhue, and presented his parchment of invitation along with the glove of the Knight of the Silmaril. Wide-eyed, the guard admitted Raghnildur into the Guildhouse with instructions to wait for Master Elbren with his parchment and the acquired glove to show for his effort. He was led by another to a room where he would wait, then left alone. He laid his parchment and the knight's glove on the table next to him, sat down heavily in the chair and waited.

==

*)-Fight for the just and pure,

For those who cannot fight alone.

Justice can be ignored no more,

The battlefield now is my home.

**-"fly"

Lord Elbren moved quietly down the hall to the council room where Erinhue was waiting. His attempt to pull a joke on the jester made for an even larger, if slightly embarassing, effect and the two old friends were soon laughing away the time and distance that had been between them.

When Elbren asked him what news he had brought back Erinhue shook his head. The joy of a good joke and the meeting of old friends was dispelled by the sudden quiet to his talented voice.

'Nothing that will be to either of our liking I am afraid." The merry twinkle in the sea gray eyes faded as Erinhue's demeanor changed. 'I would hate to play cards with who ever is behind all this, he knows too many of my tricks.

I would have bet that we should look to the south for trouble, but you were very right to send me north. Whatever is happening in the South is for us to see and deal with. In the north, there is something completely else going on and I'd bet they hope we'll be too busy to notice.

Elbren, the people up river near the mountains are afraid. They are all mumbling what seems to be superstitious nonsense and I put most of what I heard off to the sorts of places it was heard in. It was only when I noticed a pattern to the rumors and just which old wives' stories were being brought to light that I began to understand the whispers.

The Knights are moving about in the Grey Mountains. I spied on one of their encampments on the wrong side of the river just a few days ride from this very place, but who knows how far a field they range.

I asked a few members of my guild, ones who had already submitted their petitions to help me. I had several leads to follow withing the same time frame and as you so often tell me, even I cannot be in two places at once.

I sent Teltasarwen to be our eyes in the north most regions of Mirkwood. I sent Raghnildur to Rhosgobel to keep watch along the Great East Road. I went into the Grey Mountains. I had already sent word back to the bards for some information to help confirm what I think I may have seen. I asked them all to come here with a report."

Erinhue paused, genuine sincerity lighting his eyes 'Elbren, you won't want to but ya really must believe me. I think the Silmaril knights have found themselves a skin changer, and maybe more than one."

The bard's eyed narrowed a little when he added. "There might also be something else out there. I don't know what, I don't know anything about it at all, not yet, but the harp is aggitated and that is never a good sign."

As horse and rider sped along the Old Forest Road out of Rivendell, Falathiel and Isilme rode as one, as they often had in the pounding surf along the coasts of the Gulf of Lune in her homeland. To any they passed they appeared to be just a fleeing shadow of browns and greens by day and a flash of playful silver moonlight glistening in the trees by night.

Each day they covered many miles, stopping only for a few hours at a time along the way to eat and rest. As she road a kestrel flew high above, always not far away, always keeping pace and keeping watch of their travels. The Telerin Elf occasionally looked up and nodded in acknowledgment. They shared a deep bond that only they understood. A couple of times Falathiel stopped and took her refreshment in the form of a quick swim in a clear pool or under the shelter of a kindly waterfall. The Elf could scout out and recognize from many leagues the sound she loved so well'the thrilling music of water falling over rock.

Isilme was a strong and faithful mount and friend--and she needed only a little rest and nourishment and she was ready again to respond to Falathiel's demand to push onward. Falathiel had left Rivendell rather hastily once she received the message from one of her fellow bard's that Master Erinhue was in need of some information'information that she believed she could supply.

When at last they came to the River Aduin, Falathiel was relieved to see the Old Ford. She and Isilme crossed quickly in the early evening, without incident, paying the ferry toll with a few silver coins. The Elf was thankful for the veil of darkness and the ferry-tender's obvious tiredness after a long day. He barely took any notice of the fair Elf and she kept her cloak pulled over her features as she thanked him in a low voice and faked a cough.

Once across, she and Isilme turned north and made their way through little used paths along the east side of the Aduin. It was slower going by taking this route, but Isilme was sure-footed and night-sighted and they still covered a good distance.

When they were nearing to where the Carrock island protruded up out of the Great River, Falathiel and Isilme veered away from it and turned East even more. She and her mount now left all paths to venture toward the edges of Mirkwood forest. She knew that they must be near to where Beorn of old once lived.

Suddenly a great shadow lurched in front of them and a Giant of immense throbbing proportions loomed over the horse and rider. Isilme reared and halted. Falathiel was only slightly startled, and was mostly concerned for Isilme. The Elf jumped quickly from her mount's back and stood in front of her to face the giant heaving dark mass that blocked their path. She drew no weapon, only looked deep into the eyes of the creature and spoke with her Telerin mind to him.

"Peace, my friend, you know of me," was all she said and bowed low to the creature, who appeared to be a giant brown bear, heaving with the weight of his own breathing and swaying side to side slowly. He could have easily taken off her head with one swipe of his enormous black-clawed paw.

He lowered himself onto all fours and sniffed at Falathiel then turned and lumbered into the shelter of some nearby trees. Once under the canopy of the trees the Elf saw that his form changed quickly and he became as a man who sprinted easily through the dense forest and out of sight. But Falathiel's keen elven vision had not missed any detail--he was bearded and muscular, but lithe and tall, rather bearish looking himself Falathiel thought to herself.

But it was the confirmation she was looking for. She had heard that there were still some skin-changers that roamed the wilds in the area of Beorn's home'perhaps even descendants of the "old bear." Perhaps this information would be what the Master Bard was looking for. As far as she knew the skin changers only clothed themselves in the guise of bears but many things had changed over the decades, and perhaps they were capable of other guises'especially if magic were put to work with their powers of transformation. For now she had been instructed only to confirm they still lived and where they might be found.

She turned in the moonlight back to Isilme and her gaze turned upward to let the stars fill her eyes with their heavenly light. As she had some many times a night in recent evenings she breathed a Quenyan prayer of thanksgiving to Varda for the light of Earendil that once again graced the night skies. She shuddered briefly at the memory of how she had been filled with despair for many nights searching the skies for the beloved light of the Silmaril'only in vain. It was as if she was caught in a bad dream, and then, as suddenly as it had disappeared, it reappeared. But there was a great disturbance in the circles of the earth that evening and it had shaken Falathiel to the core of her being.

It was a few days after that that she had received the message from Lord Elbren. Falathiel now pulled the letter from her pocket and sank to her knees in the velvety grass and sparkling starlight. Her fingers affectionately smoothed the broken seal of the Mithril Knights, and she opened the parchment and read again for perhaps the seventh time:

To Lady Falathiel:

Hasten with all speed to the North of Middle Earth and seek Lord Erinhue, Knight of the Runed Sword and Bard Exemplar. Travel carefully as the lands are not safe, especially to the North. Lord Erinhue shall be awaiting thee.

Varda keep thee safe

Lord Elbren

She folded the letter with a sigh and a smile, and replaced it in the pocket of her cloak. The Elf nickered softly to Isilme and the horse trotted over and nuzzled Falathiel's cheek. Falathiel pulled a few carrots out of her pack and pinched a piece of lembas for herself. It was sweet and instantly nourishing. The Elf immediately felt a renewed vigor, and her soft brown eyes flashed green and gold in the radiance of the stars. For a moment she was tempted to take a few minutes to dance in the moonlight and sing a linnod of praise to Eru and the powers of the air. Instead she hopped onto Isilme's back and they were off like the wind toward The Carrock.

As the island came in sight, Falathiel dismounted and sent Isilme into a nearby clump of trees to graze. The horse knew how to look after herself and blend herself into the landscape so as not to be noticed.

When Falathiel had come across to the tavern, the lights and gaiety were merry and loud and her heart leapt as she heard a familiar, though somewhat veiled, male voice singing. There was no mistaking the rhythm and intensity, the beauty of the melody and lyrics so artfully filling the room and spilling out into the night like diamonds onto velvet. As the Elf entered and made her way past the bar, she smiled to see that, as always, every face in the room was aglow and turned to the Master Minstrel.

"Lord Erinhue, as usual you have them in the palm of your hand," she thought with a smile.

They locked gazes for just a moment across the room, and she did not miss the twinkle in his eye as their eyes met. Falathiel took a seat at a small table by the window away from the fire so it would not appear odd for her not to remove her cloak. She ordered a glass of red Dorwinion wine for herself and a tankard of ale for her performing bardic friend and waited, thoroughly enjoying the entertainment. Her heart rejoiced to hear the mastery of her Guildmaster and to sit for a few moments in peace, just being.

She wondered what he would think of the information she had to share with him, and what he would say about Lord Elbren's message to her to seek him out. The Elf fervently prayed that he would tell her that he was to be her mentor Knight in her training as a Mithril Knight, but she almost dared not to hope for such good fortune.

The assassin had been quietly cleaning her swords in a small Inn at Minas Tirith when she received the message. She took it from the trembling servant boy who was staring at the numerous vials and weapons about the rented room. She gave him a small coin, and opened it. The blades lay forgotten as Riencuran stared at the letter, hardly daring to believe what was in front of her coal black eyes.

'No. It's can't be. They've accepted me? And--do they know what my living is?" She frowned. Were assassins and thieves commonly accepted into the Mithril Knights? She didn't know of any, but then again, she didn't know of everything that went on in the world.

'I cannot believe this. It's impossible." She repeated. Shaking her head, several strands of sable hair covered her eyes, and she brushed them away, showing her leaf-shaped ears.

'Lord Elbren. Mirkwood. Melkor." Ri bit her lip. Eryn Lasgalen, as she knew the wood to be called now. One of the places she was not welcome, since her banishment all those years ago.

'Well, I suppose if I do go, and they do not let me enter the Guild House, I'll know if it's a mistake or not. Why would anyone in their right mind select a thief to be a Knight?" She continued to muse over the letter for several more minutes, till she jumped up.

'I'll go, though I pray the Elves don't shoot me full of arrows on sight." Ri put the letter in her pack, and she carefully wrapped her glass vials in a soft cloth, so they wouldn't shatter as she carried them in their pack. Ri donned her forest green colored cloak, and checked the room three times to make sure she left nothing.

Upon entering the Inn's stables, a pitch-black stallion without tack nickered softly to her, and she went over, feeding him an apple.

'Shadow Blade." Ri's voice was full of love for the faithful beast. 'Are you ready for a ride?" The stallion nickered again, tossing his mane. Ri smiled.

'Alright then, o dark one." She led Shadow out of the stables, and mounted. She kicked him gently in the side, and the two sped off

Several hard and fast days of riding lay ahead, the thief stopping only for short breaks for herself and the horse. She didn't know why she sped to Mirkwood, a place she had always avoided, even before her banishment, but she sped nevertheless.

Two weeks later, she found herself at Mirkwood. Sighing, she kept on, knowing sooner or later, the Elves that guarded the haven would be shooting arrows at her. She had no sooner finished that thought when she was surrounded.

'What brings you here, assassin?" One demanded. His tone was hostile, his question simple. She began to reach into her pack and they tensed, bows being drawn.

'Melkor's sake, you'd think I was going to kill you all any moment." She didn't blame them; she was an assassin, and they had every right to be tense. She pulled out the paper she had been sent, and the guard who had spoken took it, and raised an eyebrow. He read it again, then nodded. The others retreated slowly, becoming part of the woods themselves, except one, who remained behind her.

'I'm going to blindfold you, and bind your wrists." Ri glared at the Elf as he tied her hands with rope, and placed a cloth over her eyes. She let herself be led blindly, till the Elf in front of her stopped. He removed the bindings, and the blindfold, and she saw she was at what must have been the Guild House.

'You seek Lord Elbren." The Elf who had walked behind her moved up. 'Stay here, and I will inform him." The Elf looked slightly displeased at this, and left, leaving the other Elf to watch her. Ri waited patiently, though she was confused and nervous inside, until the Elf returned, to take her to Lord Elbren.

"You are called Raghnildur?" Elbren asked the Man who stood before him.

"I am, M'lord," he answered.

"Well met and welcome," Elbren gestured for them all to sit again, "time is short, so we shall not tarry long. You will be working with Lord Erinhue's group, Raghnildur. You should rest, replenish your supplies, and visit the armoury ere you leave, with Lord Erinhue as your guide, for you shall be leaving soon. But, first, I would hear what you have to tell me of your encounter with what you believe were the Knights of the Silmaril."

Raghnildur relayed the tale of his encounter near the inn while Elbren and Erinhue listened intently. When the tale was complete, Bard and Elf exchanged knowing glances.

"I think you have a trail to follow, then," Elbren nodded.

"Indeed," Erinhue whistled.

"Move as quickly as you can, Erinhue, you and your group. Take all that you need and send word, if you can. I would urge you to leave by nightfall, no later than dawn at least, if your trainees can be made ready."

As the two left the library and turned down the hall Rho couldn't help but smile. 'Jiyadan, that went well back there with Elbren, but now I will show you to your room so you can get cleaned up and rest a bit. Later we can have some food and then if you are up for it we can go to the armory."

Jiyadan remained silent for a moment, almost preoccupied but then realized Rho was waiting for a reply. "What? Oh.. yes, right. Yes, we can do that as soon as you wish. It sounds as if we will have much to do before we can leave so the sooner we attend to our needs the better."

'Good." She replied enthusiastically, "I agree."

They turned another corner and began to walk down another hall. Rho thinking it would be best to give him a room not to far from hers since there was already enough tension in the Guild house because of Tallain, even though both Easterlings had Elbren's approval to be there.

He nodded but he was still somewhere else in his thoughts and at last he put a hand on her arm. "Rho, there is something your Lord Elbren said that is troubling me."

Rho stopped when they reached the door to his room, she pushed it open and the two stepped inside. The Mithril knight then looked over at her friend, 'Only one thing is troubling you?" She then realized that some time soon she would need to educate him as to who the Red Hammer and the Knights of the Silmaril actually were. In a more serious tone she asked, 'What is that Jiyadan?"

He saw the humour in his question since there was much he didn't understand, but he did not smile. "A name: Tallain. Rho, that is an Eastron name. Who is this person that your Lord Elbren spoke of; what is his connection to you?"

'Please sit, and I will explain him to you." Jiyadan took a seat on the bed and Rho pulled out the chair from the small table. 'I was returning from Harad after helping Moujhadin, just over a month ago when I stopped off in Pelargir one evening. While I was visiting some friends at the local market there was a commotion. When I finally arrived at the scene there were three men, one of them was attacking Tallain and the other two were about too. They tried to frame him for an apparent mugging they had done that had gone bad and the victim lay on the ground wounded and bleeding. Tallain had tried to help the man, but because he was an Easterling, they decided to use that as an excuse to kill him instead, or at least cause him some great suffering..."

As she spoke, Jiyadan had begun to shake his head. Disbelief, amazement, and suspicion all rolled through his mind. "Rho, I know you are always one to help. I've always admired you for that. Perhaps this man was innocent in that instance, but he's still an easterling! Rho, what do you know about this man? Why was he even in Pelargir? Please, listen to me, you must be careful. I, more than anyone, know what they are capable of!"

'Well I know like you Jiyadan he's rejected his Easterling heritage. Look, he was already wounded, and the fight only made it worse. If I hadn't stopped it, Jiyadan who would have helped him'no one! And then what, just leave him there like an animal on the streets to die? If I've learned nothing else from my friendship with you and Moujhadin, I've at least learned that there are some Easterlings with honor. Perhaps not many, but there are a few, and I was willing to take the chance with him."

Jiyadan stood and began to pace slightly. "Yes, yes some. Perhaps some with honour, but not many... Rho, just.." He stopped pacing and knelt down before her chair. "Be careful. Be careful what you tell him, what you show him. He may seem honourable but you can't be sure. He.. he might be a spy." He took a deep breath and shook his head again. "Where did you last see him?"

'Here in the Guild house. We traveled from Minas Tirith together."

He blinked a moment. Had she actually said that? "What? He's here?" He stared at her for a moment, not believing she had actually said that.

'Yes Jiyadan he is here, that's what Elbren meant, there is a trust between us Jiyadan, or a friendship, or something. I can't explain it. But Elbren is a wise elf do you think he would let someone stay in here if he felt he was a threat? I will admit others have challenged Elbren's judgment over allowing him to stay, and now Jiyadan there are two of you. It's not only Elbren who is risking everything here, I've risked it too'for both of you."

He was seeing that it was useless to argue with her over this so he just nodded and stood. He would be watchful for any hint of betrayal should he come in contact with this Easterling. "The risk you take for me will not be in vain," he said quietly. "I pray the same holds true of this other man as well."

'I know you will not let me down Jiyadan." She smiled as she then stood up. 'I should let you rest now. If you would like to bathe I can have one of the servants draw one for you."

"No, no I am not tired," he said, though in truth he was exhausted. "I will wash my face, but let us do what needs to be done and then I will sleep after."

'Alright, I need to go for a little bit, and I need to get Chirion, but I will return shortly and we can head over to the armory then."

He nodded, then again grasped her arm in the sign of friendship. "It is good to see you again, Rholarowyn."

Rho grasped his arm in return. 'It is good to see you too Jiyadan."

Then she released her hold. 'I'll see you in a little while." Then she turned and left the room closing the door behind her.

The Mithril Knight Guard stood expectantly before Elbren in the hallway, almost barring the Elven Lord's intended path.

"..but....she is an...assassin," the Guard suddenly said, in a low whisper.

"Riencuran you say?" Elbren asked as the guard nodded, "yes, I am well aware of her profession. I will see her in the library immediately."

Elbren turned without giving the guard a chance to comment further; he did not want to hear it. Two of the new Knights in Training were certain to raise some eyebrows...and, in all likelihood, some voices of protest as well. Jiyadan's offer and appearance had certainly caught Elbren by surprise; but, the Easterling's sincerity had been truthful, the Elf had been able to sense that. And having the knowledge of the South was critical, Elbren thought, to the continued perpetuation of the Order. Never again, he had vowed to himself, would the lack of knowledge by the Order any region or people of Middle Earth result in a situation as dire as the one they now faced.

He had reached the armoury door on his way to the library, and with a nod to the guards there, he quickly stepped inside to retrieve the Sickle.

The Sickle.

What tie did Nienor-Niniel have to this object of power? Why had it wounded her and now, endangering her life, refuse to heal? Elbren shook his head. He took the Sickle up into his hands and even beneath the leather casing, he could sense its power.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Elbren turned quickly, startled by the voice, and was surprised to see a Dwarven Mithril Knight guard within the room.

"Yes..." Elbren replied, "yes, it's a beautiful weapon."

The Dwarf then, surprising Elbren even more, spoke fast words that were unmistakably in the language of his people, the secret language known as Khuzdul.

Elbren shook his head at the Dwarf, "I'm sorry, I do not know much of your language at all. What is your name?"

"Oh, do ya not? But your Lady, the Lady of the Golden Wood, she did, didn't she?"

This confused Elbren even more. The Lady of the Golden Wood? Carnimiriel, his wife? Why was the Dwarf refering to her in the past tense...

"Oh," Elbren smiled with relief, "you mean the Lady Galadriel."

The Dwarf simply nodded.

"Yes, she knew much of the Dwarven tongue, but alas, she did not teach it to me," Elbren replied.

"That's too bad, M'lord," the Dwarf actually frowned and look worried.

"Perhaps you could amend that--" Elbren had started to say.

But then a loud crash resounded from the rear of the armoury, startling them both. Elbren hurried to the sound of the commotion, but not before he heard the Dwarf repeat whatever it was that he had said in Khuzdul.

Odd... Elbren thought.

And even more startling, when he reached the rear of the armoury, absolutely nothing was amiss.

"Well, isn't that strange?" he said aloud.

When he received no response, he turned to find that he was alone. In fact, after a quick search of the room, there was absolutely no sign of the Dwarf.

None.

At the armoury door, Elbren inquired from the guards which direction the Dwarf had taken upon his exit.

"M'lord?" answered one of the guards, "a Dwarf? I....did not see a Dwarf leave the armoury...nor enter it."

Elbren simply stared at the guard in silence. Then, with a curt nod, he took the Sickle firmly in hand and made his way to Nienor-Niniel's chamber. Anorast was dozing and the lady lay in her feverish dreams...Elbren was filled with despair as he looked upon the pale form of the sleeping Nienor-Niniel.

"Eru bring you back," he whispered and then put the Sickle, still in its leather case, upon a nearby table.

*********************

Finally, he made his way to find Riencuran waiting for him.

"Greetings, I am Lord Elbren," he said as he entered the library.

The woman nodded and Elbren sensed a great...unease about her.

"Please sit," Elbren gestured to a nearby chair, "I thank you for answering my letter. The lands are dangerous and our enemies multiply without us even having knowledge of their existence. Our Order is in need of strengthening...in all professions and skills."

"ALL professions, M'lord?" Riencuran questioned.

"Yes," Elbren leaned back in his chair, "even skills such as yours. Not all enemies can be defeated with sheer numbers. Sometimes, stealth is required. Beyond that, sometimes a force of one is all that can be spared. It is my understanding that even assassins can follow a code of honour. That you kill for hire and not necessarily for the love of the deed. Which is it with you, I wonder?"

After Rho left, Jiyadan stood in the middle of the room and just let the last hour replay in his mind. It was almost too much to take in all at once, and he tried to comprehend it in small doses. Not only had he been welcomed into this place, but had been accepted as a trainee without so much as a disparaging word. The Elf Lord had expressed surprise at his request, but not suspicion. Jiyadan didn't know whether to be grateful or think him a fool.

Running both hands over his face, he at last turned and found the pitcher of water, pouring some into a basin and washing the weariness from his face.

The Elf Lord wished to learn his language, no doubt to better arm himself against the enemy. Perhaps that is why he agreed to accept him so readily, but the presence of another Easterling here disturbed Jiyadan greatly. He always felt Rho to be a person of conviction; and while he could never repay the debt of her acceptance of him that night so long ago, he feared she based too much of her trust on her friendship with himself and Moujhadin, and not enough on the knowledge of what Easterlings - other Easterlings - were truly like.

He dried his face and hands, setting the towel down on the dresser, and sat on the edge of the bed once again, letting his eyes scan the room; beautiful in its simplicity, but with an impressive air, almost as if for a noble. Besides the bed, there was only a dresser, writing table, chair, and wardrobe for furniture. A thickly woven, beautiful rug graced the stone floor and its craftsmanship was mirrored in a small tapestry on the far wall beside a cold fireplace.

Jiyadan reflected on the way the Elf Lord had greeted him. Some strange language he could only guess to be some form of Elvish, and he tried to recall just what the words had been so he could remember to ask Rho about that as well. "Maygo... varn?" he mumbled to himself. "Maygo van? Something like that."

Standing again, he felt restless and began to walk slowly around the room. Thinking to retrieve his journal and a pen, he suddenly realized he had none of his things with him, having all been taken along with Nothea to the stables. He would ask Rho to take him there when she returned so he could retrieve some items of import.

His mind then wandered to the strange enemies that the Elf had named: Red Hammer and Knights of the Silmarils. Hopefully Rho could also fill him in on that information, possibly on their journey, so that he might be better prepared for what they faced on this mission. He again wondered at being so quickly accepted; however, he knew he had Rho's full confidence, just as she had his. That would be enough for him for whatever was asked of him.

There were too many questions, too many unknowns reeling in his head, and he felt on edge and anxious. "What I need is a good meal and a good sleep," he said aloud. As if he had been heard, there was a soft knock at his door and Rho entered, Chirion now at her side.

'the harp is agitated and that's never a good sign.

'The harp?" Elbren responded. " Has Agarak seen something? Has it'"

'No, it hasn't." Erinhue cut off the thought and the bit of hope wrapped in it. 'I haven't actually seen the old worm since that tavern I was hold up in on Carrock Island."

The conversation ended when one of the guildhouse guards knocked reverently before entering the chamber. He showed Elbren a single glove and announced the messenger who brought it. When the journeyman bard entered the room Erinhue introduced him to Elbren saying, 'This long bit of road is Raghnildur a trusted member of the Bard's Guild who I believe has also petitioned to be considered for the Mithril Knights. I asked him to keep watch on the Great East Road were it nears the town of Rhosgobel."

Raghnildur took a seat not as close to the fireplace as the two senior Knights but near to the small table that held a half full pitcher. The young man told his tale of spotting the dark strangers and of the glove he managed to bring back for inspection.

As his report ended, he reached for the pitcher and a glass. In the next moment the pitched thudded back to the table surface when he dropped it in stunned surprise. A small harp, fashioned in the likeness of a winged dragon had suddenly appeared on the table right at the young man's elbow.

'Agarak, there you are!" Erinhue exclaimed. His sea gray eyes narrowed for a moment and then he smiled at Raghnildur. 'I haven't seen Agarak since I last saw you."

Mistaking the intent behind the words, Raghnildur flushed with embarrassed denial. 'My Lord Erinhue I never saw this instrument before this very moment. I would never'."

The rest of his protestations were lost in a sudden, shrieking howl of pained outrage. The young man jumped up , jerked his arm away from the table and stood there gripping his elbow.He glanced quickly about and wound up staring at the harp sitting on the table.

The little dragon's jeweled red eyes flashed in response, the tiny flames within their depths rolled forward to focus back at the glaring young man. Realizing the harp was glaring back at him Raghnildur stepped away from the table with a completely different expression on his face.

'You'll have to excuse Agarak there, it is quite ill mannered.'Erinhue's voice showed little effort to hide the master bard's amusement. 'I don't think it liked being referred to as an instrument. Agarak is a dragonharp which means it is a little bit of both with a mind and will of its very own. I say that it is mine, but sometimes I wonder who really owns who." Adressing the harp directly, he said 'Agarak apologize."

Raghnildur started again when a few notes tinkled reluctantly from the harp's untouched strings. The dragon's fiery red eyes flashed menacingly at him and then the flames within them went abruptly out. The young man's expression of stunned bewilderment was more then either knight could resist and they began to chuckle.

'One of the hazards of being a Mithril Knight is that you must put up with both Lord Erinhue and that unruly creature he calls a harp." The guildmaster's demeanor changed and he held the glove up and out towards Erinhue.

'They do not take the effort to even hide their insignia. If they would move about so openly in Rhosgobel, they have grown bold indeed. I need to know what makes them so bold. I know that you have only just arrived, my friend, but I have need of you scouting skills once again. I need you to take your group and head North. Unearth their plots and whereabouts and then return here with all haste. I fear that war is coming swifter than a rising storm."

Elbren stopped when another guardsman knocked at the open door and announced the arrival of someone Elbren wanted very much to see. He and Erinhue clasped hands as old friends parting and then the guild master left the chamber to go and meet with the new arrival.

As Falathiel slipped out a side door of the tavern into the cool night air, she looked up at the stars and breathed a quiet prayer to Varda to calm her thoughts and focus her mind.

"Ah Elbereth, Gilthoniel..." And the stars waxed brighter at the mere mention of her name.

Falathiel's meeting with the Master Bard had gone very well and he was grateful yet unsurprised at the news she brought him about the skin-changer. But there was an urgency, a tension, about him that she had not seen before. He had told her to make haste to the Guildhouse in Mirkwood where she would soon understand what was going on.

Falathiel pulled her cloak close and was about to dart across the court to the glade where Isilme grazed in the moonlight. She glanced up to see the familiar kestrel sitting high atop a billowy willow tree, waiting as usual. She nodded and was about to make a low whistle to him when she heard the sound of a very muffled shriek coming from back behind the tavern.

She sprang silently and quickly in two hops and a leap'from barrel to fence to roof'and peered into a small enclosure behind the bar. Her eyes narrowed and flashed in instantaneous silent rage at the sight of a burley, brutish man who had pinned down a young girl and was about to satisfy his passions at her expense.

Falathiel made a quick hand signal to the kestrel that immediately took to flight and swooped upon the foul figure with a shriek. Startled by the noise and flapping wings, he halted and swiped at the bird.

*'Nai Ilœvatar lavuva len sŽr‘ ar apsŽn‘ mŽtimass‘.'

The Elf breathed the prayer and'.fffssssssszt! a silver dagger buried itself in the back of the assailant. As he fell forward across the terrified young girl with a thud, Falathiel hopped to the ground and pushed the man to the side.

The lass lay frozen with fear, tears streaming down her pretty face. She could not have been more than about fourteen, but the girl was already showing the marks of becoming a beautiful young woman. Falathiel grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet, squeezing her arm enough that it would hurt. The Elf did not want the gravity of the situation to be dismissed. Bringing her face close to the girl's she stated very slowly and deliberately, "Your life was almost forever changed for the worst. Let us hope it has in fact been forever changed for the better and wiser."

"I'. I' he was just helping me'" the girl sputtered, still trembling, "to get some more kindling for the fire. He's a stranger here'but he's been helping my father for a few days'he seemed nice enough'." And she burst into tears again as she looked at the man's lifeless body. "Why would he do that?"

"Why is not important now. You must be more careful if you wish to one day find true love and enjoy it inviolate. You might now be dead, or worse. There are worse things than death, my young friend." Then Falathiel's voice softened, and her own eyes watered with the pain and fear she felt emanating from the young girl.

"Do not let this jade you, for there are many noble men that still walk Middle Earth. The challenge is often in discerning who is whom before it is too late. Let this night be a lesson to you, and learn it well. You would be wise to learn to defend yourself and to avoid getting yourself into such vulnerable circumstances in the future."

The girl nodded, wide-eyed and still stunned. "And what about him?" she asked, scrunching up her face at the body lying in a widening pool of blood. Falathiel frowned at him and picked up a black glove with a strange insignia on it that lay in the blood-stained dirt. A matching one appeared to be tucked into his belt. She decided quickly it would be best not to keep it in case someone looked for it, but she made a mental note of exactly what the insignia looked like.

"Go, tell your father what has happened. He will know what to do. Namarie!" and the Elf gave the girl a warm smile and an affectionate hug. With one last look she said, "Forgive and let it go, but never forget."

And with that the Elf turned and darted across the courtyard of the tavern and disappeared into the darkness of the trees. The kestrel shrieked again, as if to add his affirmation of Falathiel's words to the shivering girl, and circled high above.

Isilme was ready and on alert. Falathiel stroked the beloved mare's neck affectionately and tossed her traveling pack on the horse's back. "It is time, mellon, let us be off!" Then they were gone like the wind whistling in the trees.

As they rode Falathiel looked skyward and put her hand to her heart, **"Ilœvatar, ‡nin apsen‘ p‡ cuil‘ i am‡pien ar nesta/envinyata cuil‘o harwi eruannalyanen."

*'May Iluvatar grant you peace and forgiveness at the last.'

**'Iluvatar, forgive me for the life I have taken, and heal life's wounds by your mercy.'

*****************

As Falathiel and Isilme neared the stone bridge that led to the Great Gates the Elf hearkened to the sounds of the rushing, gushing water of the Forest River as it bellowed along before diving to continue under the great hill that sheltered Thranduil's Caves. She gasped at the sheer beauty of the polished stone that glistened in the starlight, even though the night was beginning to wane.

It felt good, so good, to be in Elven-territory. She could feel the refreshing magic and could hear in the far off the tinkling joyous laughter of elven minstrels singing merrily even to the wee hours of dawn. Her heart was immediately lifted and the weariness of travel fell away from her mind like old bandages falling from a fully healed wound.

As she dismounted and looked about with a sigh of relief, a guard approached her.

"Mae Govannen! Are you the Lady Falathiel?" he asked.

"Why, yes."

"Come quickly with me. Lord Erinhue is expecting you at the Mithril Knight Guildhouse. Your horse will be well looked after."

****"Be iest lin," she murmured and followed on his heels. "Tell me please, sir, I am curious to know if the Lady Teltasarewen has arrived yet."

"Er, yes," he stammered, "but she has been injured. She rests now in the infirmary."

"Please take me to her at once. No doubt the Master Bard will not be far from her door."

Once inside the room, Falathiel rushed to the bedside of her bardic friend. "Telta, mellon, are you alright?" She searched Telta's face to see if she was in pain and frowned at the bandage clinging to her side.

"Yes, of course, Fala. They are making entirely too much fuss over this small wound." And she stood up quickly as if to show just how "all right" she really was. The attending healers tried to push the Elf back down on the bed, fussing and complaining about how she needed to rest. But Telta was not only too strong for them, they were just no match for the determination of this feisty Elven maiden. She stood her ground and glared at them with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Ah, my friend," laughed Fala, "yes, you are the strong and independent one! No doubt that wound is practically healed anyway'I am sure you have been in the most capable healers' care!" Falathiel looked affectionately at her friend but thought better of giving her a hug. Instead she just squeezed Telta's hand. "It is wonderful to see you and it cheers my heart to know that you will be along on this perilous quest."

Falathiel crossed the room and looked out the window just as the first streaks of golden sunlight broke over the eastern horizon. "Looks like a good day for pushing back shadows," she said with a slight smile.

****"According to your wish."

" If that elbow is paining you still you could have one of the healer's take a look at it." Erinhue said to Raghnildur who still cradled his arm close to his chest. 'We are going to the infirmary to see if Teltasarwen is ready to travel and I'll send some one around to see if there has been any word from Falathiel."

Erinhue watched the young man stare warily at the inert form of the harp. 'Agarak seems to have taken an interest in you, but I can't tell you for certain if that's a good or bad thing." The bard rose from his seat and strode out of the room and down the corridor towards the guild house's infirmary.

Raghnildur spared one more suspicious glare at the harp. The dragon's red eyes were dull. The young man reached out one cautious finger as if to touch the dragonharp's green gold scales, then thought better of the action and followed Erinhue out of the room.

'I am not going to be confined to any sickroom. I thank you for your help but now you must let me alone." A strong female voice, proclaimed that of an elf by the melodic cadence, despite its petulant tone of protest, cameto them before they reached the bedchamber from whence the sound emminate 'I am not staying here another minute."

'That would be Telta' Erinhue said as the two followed the complaints. In a few steps they were out of the corridor and standing in a small room with drapped windows dimming the light of the new day that filtered through. Two of the guildhouse healers were trying, with failing success to keep their patient upon the bed.

'If a patient is strong enough that it takes two of you to try and keep her down, and those two are failing miserably, then I'd say that patient was strong enough to be let up without all the fuss." The words rode a wave of Erinhue's contagious laughter.

'I tried to tell them the same thing but I think they're going to listen now, Master 'Hue." Falathiel was standing on the opposite side of the room. She had arrived at the Guildhouse and had asked to be taken to the infirmary when she learned that Teltasarwen was in the care of the healers.

Honest concern replaced the cheery amusement in Erinhue's voice when he next spoke. 'Telta darlin' are you sure that you shouldn't stay here a day or two? Why don't ya tell me what ya saw out there?"

'Oh no you don't, Erinhue," Teltasarwen replied. 'I'll give you my report once we are safely on the road. It was only a scratch on the arm. I told them I was fine, but the door guard saw the blood on my sleeve and insisted that I come here when I first arrived. It's not excuse enough for you to try leaving me behind. You asked for my help and I'm not letting you get off that easy. "

'Well if you say so, it's good enough for me." Erinhue said as he pretended to duck from her verbal assault.

Released from the tender clutches of the infirmary staff, Telta collected the few things she had brought with her and joined the others as they all fell in behind the departing Erinhue. They moved through the corridors to a staircase which they mounted and climbed to the top floor of the Guildhouse.

'We need to get back to Rhosgobel as quickly as possible to begin our search." Erinhue was saying as he led them down another narrower corridor to another smaller staircase. 'Horses will take us days that cannot be spared so to save that time I will have Agarak take me from here to there."

Raghnildur's eyes widened and his head turned slightly in the direction of the small council room on the ground floor. " I don't think I want to have that much to do with your," the young man hesitated before saying 'harp."

Oh, not ta worry Raghnildur." Erinhue's voice was full of reassurance. 'Agarak wouldn't take ya even if I asked. Radagast was here and Elbren tells me that between the two of them they have arranged a very special transport for each one of you."

By this time the small procession had mounted an even smaller stairway that lead to a trap door in the guild house roof. They emerged onto a wide flat space cut out of the mountain stone that made the guildhouse walls. The morning breeze snatched at their hair as it danced through the high tree leaves, beneath a clear blue sky.

'Your mounts will be here any minute." Erinhue said as he turned towards the west. 'Their names are Landroval, brother to Gwaihir , Codoromir, and Nalurath. "

'Brother to Gwaihir?" Raghnildur murmured.

'Yes The Wind Lords have consented to assist the Mirthril Knights." Erinhue responded to the mild confusion. " They know your destination and will see you safely there."

In the distance three small specks marred the sky's clear blue. The shapes grew in size as the trio approached and soon Telta and Fala's elven eyes could make out the minature forms of three great eagles.

Erinhue held one hand to his forehead to shade his eyes from the morning sun. 'I see your steeds approach." Erinhue called out 'Agarak, to me."

The green/gold dragonharp suddenly appeared in its bard's outstretched hand. Erinhue pulled the harp in close to his body,then laid the palm of his left hand flat against the strings. " I will see you all in Rhosgobel." The bard called out to them and with a wink, he vanished from the guild house roof.

Raghnildur was in utter shock as he stepped back from the table. What on earth had caused his elbow to hurt so badly? He looked around for a moment, and realized that the elbow he held so tenderly had just been sitting on the table next to the harp'the harp that was'looking at him?! He backed away staring incredulously at the thing. Erinhue sternly commanded the harp to apologize, and the instrument obliged. Lord Elbren and Lord Erinhue were laughing by now, but Raghnildur would have rather been back in Rhosgobel crossing swords with the Knights of the Silmaril. The man was quite relieved when the fire left the harp's eyes, to be sure. Lord Elbren and Raghnildur's mentor knight briefly discussed the glove that he had brought to them, and words were spoken of war. War is fine and good, Raghnildur thought, so long as they don't have any of these harps.

Lord Elbren took his leave, leaving Erinhue and Raghnildur alone to their thoughts and plans. His master asked if he would care to have one of the healers look at his elbow, but he refused. 'Pain is weakness leaving the body, Lord Erinhue," he said grinning. 'Fortunately I am right handed, and it was my left elbow that'was affected." Not knowing what would provoke the dragonharp again, the young man chose not to refer to it again, leastways not for a good few days. Erinhue made mention that the harp had obviously taken some interest in him, and Raghnildur was not altogether certain he was pleased with such a revelation. As it were, Lord Erinhue was speaking of going to the infirmary regardless, a fellow Bard had been taken there upon her arrival. As they approached, Raghnildur heard a familiar voice. A broad smile crossed his face as they entered, for it was indeed Telta, one of the first people he had met from the Bard's Guild at the last festival.

Any concern for her well-being quickly dissipated upon entering the room, for she was quite obviously in average health at the very least. Enough so that her attenders, which may as well have been captors the way she was fighting them, were having a terrific time trying to keep her in bed. Falathiel was also there, looking quite as amused as the two newcomers. As Lord Erinhue gave his permission for the healers to release her, she quickly gathered her belongings and looked expectantly at the others, ready to move. And move they did.

As they traveled through the corridors of the Guildhouse, Raghnildur began to lose his bearings amidst the turns they took. Where was Erinhue taking them? They most certainly were not going out the way they entered, at least not the way he had entered. If the man had sought out the Mithril Knights for adventure, enough had happened already that he could have slept a fulfilled man that night. His eyes twinkled at the knowledge that his experiences with the Knights of the Silmaril and the dragonharp would pale in comparison with what was to come. He had nearly forgotten about his injured elbow by the time he realized that they were now at the foot of a stair that led to a trap door on the ceiling. Perhaps their mentor was going to point out their road to them before they set out?

Lord Erinhue made mention that time did not permit horse travel in this hour. His next words caused Raghnildur to quickly remember the dull pain in his elbow, for the Master Bard and Knight of Lore was to travel by way of that'thing.

His expression must have betrayed him, for even before he mentioned his hesitation about a closer dealing with the dragonharp just yet, Erinhue was already wearing a bemused look. Raghinildur's heart returned to its rightful place in his chest as Erinhue assured him that he had no reason to fear that he would be traveling in like fashion. Instead, his mentor announced that they would be arriving at Rhosgobel by way of the Great Eagles! Raghnildur's spirit leapt at the news. He had always wanted to ride on the arm of the wind, but this was not an ambition that many in Middle Earth ever hoped to see come to fruition. Now one of the great Eagles, indeed the brother of Gwaihir himself, was to bear him on his journey. Had he ever imagined that this would be his fortune, he would have quickly ridiculed himself.

Erinhue announced his own departure and called for Agarak, and immediately the dragonharp materialized in his hand. With one of his signature winks, the man was gone from them. A brief thought happened on Raghnildur's mind, of how perhaps such an instrument could indeed come in handy, if it could be tamed. Telta and Falathiel were both staring in amazement at what looked like three specks just above the horizon, and Raghnildur knew that their elven eyes were seeing what his could not, the three eagles which were to bear them. Nearly as an afterthought, Raghnildur's thoughts went to Crabanržth, his mount. He bowed his head and spoke to the beast with his mind, promising his return. You shall be well cared for here, friend. Fear not for my safety, I shall return as soon as I am able. An answer came from the stable in a long neigh as if it were a warning. Keeping his thoughts to himself now, he pondered on just the level of danger that he and his companions were about to fly headlong into, as it were. For a moment he almost regretted making such a promise, when he knew nothing of whether or not he would return.

Raising his eyes, he looked upon the three eagles which drew steadily closer. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, and he caressed it lovingly. This blade had meant more to him than many friends, and he now entrusted it with three lives other than his own. He knew that the soil of Rhosgobel may well be stained with one of the four of their blood before they took their leave, and silently he asked that if it were to be, it would be his. He would most certainly die before he allowed harm to come to his companions. As he finished his prayer, he was greeted by the sound of mighty wings as the Eagles approached the roof. Each of the mighty beasts introduced themselves to their riders, and the three companions climbed gingerly onto their great backs. With a beating of wings that was as the thunder of heaven, the three wonders of the air took to flight.

As the Guildhouse grew rapidly smaller beneath them, Raghnildur looked on in amazement. He knew that this would more than likely be the last opportunity for rest in days, for these Eagles would certainly bear their burdens with care. Nevertheless, he found it impossible to tear his eyes from the spectacle that lay beneath him as they soared high above Middle Earth. This would be as close as he would ever come to paradise, and he fully intended to enjoy every moment of splendor and joy before they stepped into their destiny.

When the Lord Elbren had left her, LŽan‘ had stood a while in the room she had been given, simply breathing... She was really here! A smile appeared on her face, and her eyes lit up. "It's really all finally starting..." she thought happily.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. LŽan‘ went to the door and opened it a little way. It was Aranel. "Hail, LŽan‘!" she smiled. "I have brought you some food." LŽan‘ grinned widely, and opened the door fully, and said, "Thank you, Lady Aranel. Please come in." A most delicious smell rose up from the covered dish Aranel held, and LŽan‘'s stomach rumbled. She hadn't had anything to eat since early that morning.

"Call me Aranel," said the she-Elf cheerily. "I am no Lady, though most mortals tend to say that everytime they meet me... because I am an Elf. And the 'lady' starts grate after a while." Before LŽan‘ could stop herself, she blurted out, "You are the most unusual Elf I have ever met, Aranel! You are... forgive me, but you seem more a Hobbit than an Elf!" Immediately, LŽan‘ felt ashamed and could have bitten her tongue off for being so rude. But Aranel did not seem to mind, for she laughed and said, "Ah, yes! A Hobbit. Hmmm. Yes, I have been told that at times. And simply because I choose to enjoy life and not be sombre and solemn all the time."

"But that is enough about me. Tell me about you, and Rohan. I hear you came from Rivendell. What were you doing there?" LŽan‘ opened her mouth to answer, that just then, another Elf arrived and announced she was her to draw up a bath for LŽan‘. "Oh, dear! I have kept you!" exclaimed Aranel. "Well, perhaps we will get another chance to talk before you leave, LŽan‘. I will leave you now." LŽan‘ smiled, and impulsively hugged the Elf. "Thank you for being so kind, Aranel," she said.

Soon afterwards, LŽan‘ had bathed and changed into the clothes provided for her. She ate her supper quickly, eager to finish and then explore. But even as she was eating, she let out yawn after yawn, all the tiredness of her journey catching up to her. In the end, she decided to simply go to sleep, and explore the place in the morning.

Telta endured the healers prodding and poking. She didn't think that one small cut required two to look after it and had remained quiet until now. The wound was cleansed and bandaged once more but still they hovered over her. They were actually trying to keep her confined to bed. This was going to stop and now. She needed to see Erinhue.

Fala who had rushed in not knowing how serious she was wounded, soon came to understand Telta's situation. Her concern had turned to one of amusement as she watched the injured elf try unsuccessfully to disentangle herself from the grasp of the healers. An unspoken entreaty from the frustrated elf had Fala trying her best to convince them that she was alright. But her half hearted plea fell on deaf ears as they remained stubbornly fixed on their task at hand. And Telta was just as stubborn.

Erinhues and Raghnildur's amused visage entered the room and he told them what she had been telling them all along but his amusement at her predicament soon changed to seriousness. Telta looked at her mentor knight suspicions forming. He had thought to obtain the information she had and leave her behind. She would have no part of it and told him as much.

Released, finally, she quickly gathered her things and followed the others looking back at the healers a gnawing feeling that if Erinhue was not there she would be back in their clutches again. Her steps quickened.

She fell in beside Fala with Raghnildur in front of then and Erinhue leading speaking as he went. Raghnildur rubbed his elbow gently at the mention of Agarak and Telta wondered if he had a run in with the little dragon harp. The relief on his face when Erinhue explained that they would not be travelling in the same manner answered her question.

Special transport had been arranged according to Erinhue, had Telta and Fala looking at each other eyebrows raised in silent question. If horses were to slow then how would they reach Rhosgobel?

Landroval, brother to Gwaihir , Codoromir, and Nalurath, the Wind Lords. Telta's gaze immediately went to the sky searching for such as he spoke of. Great Eagles would bear them to their destination. An honour far beyond that which she could have imagined. High in the sky she could make them out as they soared quickly towards them. Erinhue called for the dragon harp and was gone leaving the three of them waiting for their rides.

As large as they were Telta watched their descent and graceful landing. Golden eyes peered into hers and she introduced herself. Codoromir was the name of the one she was to travel on as she climbed onto his back. When all was ready the three eagles spread their wings and Codoromir said 'Hold tight' as they lifted into the sky.

The wind rushed by her, cool and refreshing, and she closed her eyes for a moment enjoying the sensation. Then turning she watched as the guildhouse became nothing more than a memory. Looking over to her right she saw the smile on Fala's face and knew how she felt. Raghnildur was ahead of them but she could well imagine that he too was feeling the same excitement as they were.

Her exhilaration turned to more serious thoughts as they flew onward heading for Rhosgobel and what lie ahead. She touched her healing wound. Troubled and dangerous times awaited them and she was well aware that their fate lay ahead of them.

Telta's protests to the healers were getting louder and a little more adamant as Lord Erinhue and Raghnildur entered the infirmary. Once the Master Bard was satisfied that Telta was all right to travel, the matter was quickly settled and the three Knights in Training were striding down corridors and up stairways trying to keep pace with him.

As they moved through the first corridor Falathiel rounded a sharp corner, and moved up next to Raghnildur. She lengthened her strides to match his and said, "My Lord Raghnildur, I believe Lord Erinhue thinks that we have already met'possibly at a Bard's Festival. It feels odd not to be formally introduced, so if you please, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Raghnildur smiled and nodded as they walked.

"It seems likely," Falathiel continued, "we will have opportunity and necessity in the days to come to get to know each other better. May Eru grant that our friendship will grow strong and that it will be to the glory of that which is good and true and to the defeat of that which is evil and false."

With that she put her hand to her heart and briefly extended her palm toward him, inclining her head and smiling warmly, but still matching his long strides down the hallway.

Raghnildur smiled back, returned her greeting, and was about to say something when Master Erinhue said loudly, "We need to get back to Rhosgobel as quickly as possible to begin our search." He went on to explain that the dragonharp would be transporting him there, and that Radagast and Lord Elbren had arranged for transport of a different nature for the Knights in Training.

When Falathiel heard the words "Landroval, brother to Gwaihir, Codoromir, and Nalurath" her heart leapt with absolute joy. 'By the grace of Ilœvatar, how can I be so blessed?' she thought. It had been several years since she had last seen Nalurath, when he had come to her aid in the forest of the Blue Mountains above the Grey Havens. He was one of her favorites of the Wind Lords, and she could hardly keep herself from breaking into a run once they reached the guild house roof.

Once out onto the clearing, the wind playfully tousled their clothes and hair as if to apprise them of the force of the winds that would soon descend from the rush of mighty wings beating the air.

Falathiel looked up into the clear blue morning sky for the kestrel she knew would be circling, looking for her and yes! there he was. He swooped and landed on the small leather vambrace on her left arm. She glanced at the others, whispered a few words, kissed his beak, and whoosh! he was gone again with a shriek'circling away and down toward the stables of the guild house. She knew she would see her faithful feathered friend again before too long in Rhosgobel, although he would certainly arrive many hours later than their group did.

As the Wind Lords came into view, Falathiel's leapt again with joy. She was suddenly mindful of how much she loved Eru's creatures, and especially the birds. Birds and horses. If every other living thing were to vanish except her and these creatures, she thought with a laugh, she could probably be well content with the company'even unto the end of the time of waiting for the Second Music of the Ainur. Creatures were so much easier company than mortals'ofttimes even than Elves.

Master Erinhue called out, "Agarak, to me," and the dragonharp appeared in his outstretched hand. "I will see you all in Rhosgobel," and the Master Bard and the harp vanished.

For a moment Falathiel felt a pang of regret to see him leave. It was now just she, Teltasarewen, and Raghnildur moving together into the next stage of this journey. No one had been appointed leader in Master Erinhue's absence, she noted. Perhaps they would meet up with Lord Hue again in Rhosgobel before the need for a "leader" arose. She looked now closely at her companions and wondered why each of them were here, now, on this course, in their lives. What were the reasons they had for wanting to become Mithril Knights, she wondered.

As for her own reasons, well, she would most certainly rather be back safe in the Grey Havens--teaching the Elflings letters and dance and the songs of the ages and assisting for the sail into the West those Elves who came now in greater numbers than ever to make the journey to the Blessed Realm. But a shadow of evil was growing and Falathiel could not shake the conviction she had that the time had come for her to make a greater sacrifice of service to Middle Earth'to go out and join the battle directly. The irony of it all was that she it was who was often most vocal that *some* Elves needed to stay and preserve the aesthetic beauties of Elven culture so that the warriors had something to come home to. If all the Elves became warriors, who would teach the Elflings and steward the resources of Arda and preserve the ancient songs and make the jewelry and weave the tapestries?

*'Earenna, Earenna'.' Her heart cried out and a pang of deep yearning for the sea washed over her so as to almost make her lose her balance. But she started out of her brief reverie to find it was instead the arrival of the Great Eagles and the great thunderous wind their wings produced that almost toppled her.

Just being in their presence was indeed an honor'and now that they were to carry her and her companions to Rhosgobel. Falathiel felt suddenly humbled and small and rather insignificant. She bowed lowed as they introduced themselves. Then as she looked up and met Nalurath's steady and noble gaze she lost all sense of decorum and ran to the Great Bird and hugged his neck.

"Oh Nalurath, mellon n”n, mellon n”n, it is so wonderful to see you again!" The Great Bird lowered his head and she climbed up onto his back and nestled herself into the silky feathers, burying her hands in the soft down of his undercoat.

As the small group took off into the sky soaring up, up and away from Middle Earth Falathiel's heart soared even higher'so that she felt as if she might almost hear the host of Ainur that sang about the throne of Ilœvatar if she listened carefully enough.

She held fast to her noble steed and watched with amusement and delight the looks on the faces of her companions. This would be a ride that none of them would forget.

How long would it take to reach Rhosgobel, the Elf wondered. She was glad she had grabbed her small pack and had kept her weapons, small and deadly and easily hidden whether she wore riding skirt, breeches, or gown. She even still had her bow and quiver strapped to her back'thank Eru for that.

The wind in her face, the steady rhythm of Nalurath's beating wings, and the silken embrace of his feather coat was soothing and refreshing and Falathiel soon relaxed and simply absorbed the grace and beauty of the flight above the circles of the world. Soon enough the harsh realities of their quest would engulf them. But for now she simply enjoyed the ride through the heavens.

"Nalurath! Nalurath!" the Elf murmured. **"Colo vin na rovailech gelig na restad Arda."

*To the Sea! To the Sea!

**Take us with your swift wings to the aid of Arda.

With a soft knock Rho then entered Jiyadan's room with Chirion at her side. She watched as the Easterling looked at the dark wolf then Rho knelt down beside him and placed her hand upon his head.

'This is Chirion, I never had a chance to tell you about him, though he did travel with me to Harad when I went to assist Moujhadin. I'm still not sure what your brother thought about him but I rather enjoyed seeing the look on his face when we arrived. Would you like to meet him?"

A lopsided smile appeared on Jiyadan's face as he crouched down and held his hand out. The wolf walked over and softly nuzzled his hand and he stroked his head a few times. "He's a beautiful animal. A faithful companion, no doubt."

Rho watched as the wolf nuzzled Jiyadan's hand, though she had no doubts about her Easterling friend, she always watched to see how the wolf responded. A moment later Chirion softly licked the Easterling's hand and Rho smiled as she stood back up. 'He liked Moujhadin too'and yes he is a loyal and trusted friend."

'Loyal and trusted friends, yes; both Chirion and Moujhadin.' The thought made him miss his friend but he said nothing.

For a moment she paused and just looked at Jiyadan, her mind still trying to grasp that he was really standing in front of her after all this time. His hair was a bit longer than the last time she'd seen him and his face, still rugged, also looked warn and tired from his long journey. But it was the look in his grey eyes that she noticed most. They held a different look than that of a year ago, there was a calm, or a peace, perhaps even an acceptance of something. Rho wasn't sure but the change was definitely there.

'I've arranged for some breakfast for us in the Library." Rho finally spoke up while still looking at him. 'I think getting you a good meal first would be better than a trip to the armory right now. I thought we could look over some maps of the area while we ate, maybe plan out a few routes, then we could go to the armory after that."

After giving Chirion a few more friendly strokes, Jiyadan stood and smiled. "Yes, a meal would certainly be appreciated." He followed Rho towards the door but again placed a hand on her arm and stopped her before she opened it. "Rho, please. On the way to the library, can you explain what you meant when you offered to become my mentor?"

"A Mentor knight is someone that does many things but I would say mostly they help to teach a Knight-in-Training the ways of our Guild." 'Rho began to explain as they walked down the first hall.

'By being your Mentor knight I am responsible for you and your training in what ever I feel is important and necessary for you learn, but this training also allows you to see our Guild and to understand who we are and what we do so you can better decide if you want to become a full member with us as well."

"So you will be my superior then?"

"Yes that is the simplest way to say it." Rho replied.

Jiyadan nodded. "Then you must instruct me in how I am to address you. I am unfamiliar with rank and military custom here in the West, but I will endeavor to learn quickly and not bring shame to you."

Rho stopped for a second and looked at him. 'Jiyadan, while we are an order and have positions of rank, we are not a military operation. You may still call me Rho and not bring any shame on me for doing so."

Jiyadan wasn't comfortable, but he would do as she had asked. "Do I salute you?"

The shieldmaiden sensed his uneasiness, 'No Jiyadan, you don't salute me, but if you would be more comfortable with calling me by a title you could call me either Rholarowyn or Lady Rholarowyn if that would be better."

"Yes, thank you, Lady Rholarowyn. I shall." He continued to follow her, marking the route they took and committing it to memory. Every turn, every stair he paid close attention to, mapping out the course in his head.

As the two continued to walk down several long halls with Chirion slightly ahead of them, Rho gave Jiyadan some of the specifics as to how the Mithril Knight Guild was set up and the various processes that he would need to go before he would be would become a full initiated Mithril Knight. He asked a few questions along the way, which Rho answered easily, and the conversation came to an end just as they entered the Library.

Chirion found the rug near the fireplace and curled up on it while Rho went to the one of the shelves and began to pull out several rolled up parchments. Finally she found the two she was looking for, pulled them out, and walked over to the large table pushed up against the far wall.

Jiyadan helped her to unroll the first one and he placed a candlestick on the upper corner and a rock weight on the bottom corner to hold the map open. Rho did the same on her side as well. After looking over the map for a moment, the shieldmadien finally oriented herself.

'Alright we are here." She began and pointed to the location of the Mithril Knight Guild house. Then she pointed to a lower location upon the map. 'And here is where the elven colony is that Elbren wishes us to take the message too. From the looks of it, I'd say there are several possible routes we can take."

"Greetings, I am Lord Elbren," Ri nodded to him after he entered the library.

"Please sit," Elbren gestured to a nearby chair, "I thank you for answering my letter. The lands are dangerous and our enemies multiply without us even having knowledge of their existence. Our Order is in need of strengthening...in all professions and skills."

"ALL professions, M'lord?" Riencuran questioned, wary.

"Yes," Elbren leaned back in his chair, "even skills such as yours. Not all enemies can be defeated with sheer numbers. Sometimes, stealth is required. Beyond that, sometimes a force of one is all that can be spared. It is my understanding that even assassins can follow a code of honor. That you kill for hire and not necessarily for the love of the deed. Which is it with you, I wonder?"

'I can follow a code of honor." Her head slanted to one side slightly, considering him.

'Good." It appeared that was all that mattered to Lord Elbren. She raised an eyebrow, and they both stood.

'You'll be taken to the guest accommodations where you will be able to freshen up and rest." He nodded and left the room. Soon after, another Elf entered, and led Riencuran to a commodious bedchamber.

She sat down on the bed and sighed once the Elf left.

'Well, I suppose now I wait." She lay down and fell into a tense and restless sleep.

The guildhouse was quickly left behind as high above the ground they flew heading for Rhosgobel. Rhosgobel a place where possible danger lay. The place where she was to have first met Erinhue. Her gaze fixed ahead she was remembering what had happened.

Telta was to have met Erinhue at the Green Wood Tavern near the edge of town. and had made her way there. Few paid attention to another traveller arriving. The tavern had been crowded yet she managed to find an empty table. Erinhue was not hard to locate and was engaged in quiet conversation with someone but was he friend or foe. She would wait and watch.

Meanwhile three men had entered the tavern and Telta watched as they took a seat not far from Erinhue's table after glaring at the one's already occupying it. A hasty retreat on their part and the table was free. They talked quietly amongst themselves eyes darting here and there looking over the crowd from time to time. Recognition registered on one of their faces when his sight landed on Erinhue. He was of average height, dark hair, full beard and several teeth missing. A scar cut straight across his cheek from his nose to his ear. The other two she could not see for they had their backs to her the hoods on their cloaks pulled up much like hers, to hide their identities. Their attire or at least as much as she could see was all black. This in itself was not strange but for the fact that they all wore exactly the same thing from their cloaks right down to their boots. A uniform of some sort but if there was any insignia it was well hidden.

Erinhue must have recognized the man for he was already slipping away. The three men made to follow but for some clumsy drunk who had accidentally poured the entire contents of his tankard upon the scarred man. An argument ensued as Telta rose to go after him but a hand shot out and grabbed her arm effectively stopping her.

Her hand immediately went for her dagger at her waist, eyes glaring from beneath her hood. 'Do not draw your dagger Telta' Her head snapped up. The man was taller even than her six foot height and she had to look up at him her hood slipping slightly. Sky blue eyes bore into deep brown ones.

'Yes I know your name." She tried to pull her arm free. 'Do not draw attention to us." he hissed. She ceased her struggles. 'He said you would follow."

'Who said?" she asked warily. The man's eyes strayed to where Erinhue had left the tavern. 'Hue." He let her go but did not move. Her hand relaxed though she did not remove it from her dagger. He studied her and she in turn studied him. A moustache, straight nose and deep brown eyes were set on a rugged, square jawed face and dark brown, shoulder length hair framed that face. Handsome would be how she would describe him...if hard pressed to say so. Broad shouldered and large calloused hands with an iron grip. A knight if her guess was not far off. And this did not surprise her being in the company of Erinhue. yet he wore no uniform. His clothes were unremarkable, indistinguishable from any other patron there. He did not want to draw attention to himself.

He smiled satisfied at what he saw. 'Ypu have courage and skill I'd wager." he pointedly looked to where her hand still rested on her dagger. 'But you will need more than that before this is done."

She had not questioned his words for she had no time. 'I do not know who you are but Erinhue obviously trusts you to enough to give you my name." Her instincts told her she could trust him also.

'Yet you restrain me. If I am not to follow than how am I to help him?"

'Go to Carrock. There is an inn there the Golden Eagle. You are to meet him there." Telta made to leave and yet again he blocked her path. Looking down at her concern furrowing his brow he spoke 'Watch your back. The way is not safe. Trust no one."

One eyebrow shot up at this last remark. 'Trust no one?" I am trusting you." Telta stepped around the man and walked towards the door a soft chuckle followed by 'Be careful Telta." followed her out the door. She turned realizing that she had not asked him his name but he had disappeared into the crowd where the argument had advanced into a brawl. She silently thanked him and left.

Codoromir's 'We are here." brought her back to the present. Her eyes focused on her surroundings. They were descending a couple of miles off from a town...Rhosgobel or at least it had to be. From the air it was different but she trusted that the eagles knew their way.

The landing was gentle. It was better that they did not land close as it would raise questions. The short hike would give them time to plan what they would do since Erinhue did not say where to meet him. A starting point was all they needed and Telta had an idea about that.

Climbing down from the eagle she found wasn't more than climbing down from a horse. A rather large horse but a horse nonetheless. She ran her hands down Codoromir's neck grateful for his help. 'Thank you Codoromir." He looked at her with his golden eyes and bowed his head slightly. Telta waited for the others to pay their respects to the eagles which bore them here. Looking off towards Rhosgobel she hoped things would turn out better than the first time she was there.

The warmth from the fire had, in only a few minutes, forced Jiyadan to remove his robe and pull his over-tunic open in front lest he fall asleep from the heat. While Rho retrieved the particular maps she sought, some servants brought in two trays of food and drink and set them on the large table where Jiyadan now sat.

"Thank you," he said and the servants bowed silently before exiting. After months of travel fare, with only the occasional animal kill to break the monotony of dried meats, what was now set before him looked like a feast. He took a long draught of water before pulling some bread apart and slicing open an apple. His breakfast was almost half done when Rho at last returned to the table and laid out one of the maps.

Jiyadan looked at the expanse of forest between their location and destination. His eyes quickly scanned the layout, and then he settled into taking in the details as Rho spoke of the possible routes. "And where are these enemy forces, Red Hammer and Knights; where are they located?"

Rho paused for a moment and looked up at him. "Well Elbren was able to give me a little information earlier, but not much. However, some of the other knights and knights-in-training have encountered the enemy here," she said pointing, "and here. I also know there was some trouble here as well," she added while picking up a piece of apple and biting into it.

As Rho had continued speaking, Jiyadan's eyes wandered left and traced the river. When she paused he laid a finger on the map. "Lady Rholarowyn, forgive me, what of this river?"

"The Anduin?"

"That is perhaps our best course," he said. "It not only avoids entirely what enemies lay within the forest, especially since their exact locations and strengths are unknown, but it will speed the journey south, and in fact should take perhaps even a day or two less time to travel.

"Even if we assume we encounter no enemies, it is still well over a two week ride through dense forest, and at least a fortnight if we travel along the eastern edge." Jiyadan then traced along the forest path to the Anduin. "But if we go by way of the river, we have a week's journey west, then only four or five days by boat. From there, a day or two to reach the settlement... The chances of encountering problems is less. Once we reach the settlement and deliver the message we can then commission two mounts to ride back. But this time we go straight through the forest and mark, as we are able, any enemy locations or movements. Much can change in two week's time."

She continued to look at the map, taking in all that Jiyadan had said and considered the implications. Finally she spoke. "You know this is not the most obvious route, but I agree, considering the circumstances right now it does make the most sense. My only concern is where we will get the boat. Perhaps the Mithril Knights keep some on the rivers edge. I will need to check on this."

Jiyadan nodded. "Yes, if you, or the elves, have boats along this section of river, that would be the best course." He continued to just let his eyes wander over the map, nibbling on the remains of breakfast. He again found himself wishing he had his journal with him and at last decided he needed to retrieve it.

"Lady Rholarowyn, when I was brought in all my things remained on Nothea's saddle. Could you lead me to the stables so I might retrieve a few items? Among other things, I wish to make some notes in my journal concerning our mission here, as well as some land marks to watch for on the way."

Glancing up from the map once again she asked. "Did you get enough breakfast?"

"Yes, thank you. It was more than enough."

"Then yes," she replied and began to roll up the map. "I'll take you to the stables, and perhaps we should stop by the armory on the way back as well."

Rho took the too maps and returned them to the shelf, then she walked over to the table, picked up the rest of the apple pieces to eat along the way, and then called Chirion over to her side.

Once they reached the stables, Jiyadan found Nothea already comfortably in a stall with hay and water. He had been brushed down and his saddle hung on a beam with the bridle laid over it.

His bags were placed underneath, and Jiyadan rifled around in them for a few minutes, retrieving his journal and pen, some rough maps, and a sextant and star chart. Though the maps and star charts were for the East and Harad, he felt he could perhaps be able to find their counterpart here and update them, or take them on the journey to observe what differences he could.

Giving the stallion a pat on the neck and a soft brush on the muzzle, he left him to finish his own breakfast and then he, Rho and Chirion walked on to the armory.

Raghnildur grieved to see the ground approach. He knew not whether the eagles would return to bear them again to the Guildhouse, or if they would be left to their own devices for their return. As the Great Eagles landed nearly a league away from Rhosgobel for anonymity's sake, the three riders dismounted from the great birds. Raghnildur inclined his head to Landroval and thanked him sincerely for the great honor that he had granted the knight in bearing him. The Eagle smiled and merely thanked the man in return for the opportunity to assist the Mithril Knights, in any fashion.

Falathiel began to speak to Nalurath, and it was quickly agreed that the Eagles could not wait for the three companions' business to be attended to, nor could they promise to return. After sharing each of their goodbyes with the mighty birds, the Great Eagles took to flight. With a mighty rush of air and a nearly deafening beat of wings, they swiftly became specks in the sky. Raghnildur turned to the elven maidens and spoke.

'Lady Telta, Lady Falathiel, before we continue there is something I need to say." Unsheathing his sword, he lowered himself onto one knee, bowed his head and spoke again. 'Though this may not be necessary, I wish you both to know that my sword shall serve you on this quest, as long as I draw breath. We enter into covenant with one another as our feet enter Rhosgobel. If I may serve to protect you with my life, so be it. If my death serves the same purpose, so be that as well." Inhaling deeply, he looked up at the two elves and stood back to his feet. He had a feeling without asking that their hearts were in the same place. It appeared they were truly in this together.

He sheathed his sword once again, and the three began the walk to Rhosgobel in silence. The only sounds made by anyone were the whispered prayers to Ilœvatar that Falathiel spoke for their protection. Raghnildur removed his cloak from his pack, donned it and pulled the hood up over his head. Of the four, Raghnildur was the only one who would be quickly recognized by the Knights of the Silmaril, having had an altercation with a few of them only days before. Silently he cursed himself for not taking measure to mask his appearance then, for now he put the rest of them in greater danger than they may have been otherwise.

After several minutes of walking, Raghnildur mentioned something that had been whipering at the back of his mind since they had left the Guildhouse. 'I don't suppose Lord Erinhue mentioned to either of you where we might find him?" Telta and Falathiel shook their heads in unison; they did not know either. 'If I know Lord Erinhue as well as I think I do, he will most certainly not appear as we know him, but will be most cleverly disguised as he was in Carrock. I have known him for a shorter time than the two of you, have you any ideas on where we might find our mentor?"

Telta spoke up. 'Rhosgobel is where I was initially supposed to meet Lord Erinhue, Raghnildur. He and I had agreed to meet at a tavern here before plans changed. I know this tavern, and feel that he may be waiting for us there." Raghnildur asked where the tavern was, and to his dismay she described the very place where he had encountered the Knights of the Silmaril days ago.

Seeing the expression on his face, the two elves simultaneously asked what was wrong. 'It is as I feared," the man replied. 'Two sunrises ago I follwed a man in black mail into the tavern you just described. He was a Knight of the Silmaril, one of the clan we are here to hunt. We had an altercation and I escaped with one his black gloves, which I left at the Guildhouse with Master Elbren. Three or four of them know my face and my build, so I wonder how wise it is that I accompany you into this tavern. From what I could gather, it is an establishment they frequent."

Falathiel's eyes widened at the mention of the man in black mail and the removal of a black glove. Slowly she recounted her tale of the man she had slain to protect the young girl, and as the tale continued Raghnildur's pace quickened. Hate swelled in his heart, and a fire began to shine in his eyes. Raghnildur had slain many in battle, but never had he taken a life off the battlefield. Only once had he recently felt such hatred, and that was in the tavern as he listened to these so-called Knights' tales of debauchery and fell deeds. This news merely confirmed the base nature of the people they were dealing with, and the levels they would stoop to to serve their own purpose. He had never taken a life off the battlefield indeed, but there was a first time for everything and he pitied the first 'Knight' he saw behaving in such manner.

The change in Raghnildur's countenance was palpable, thus much of the rest of the journey was continued in silence. Perhaps neither elf desired to provoke further reaction in the man, nor give more purpose to his stride. Their fate already loomed a mere five hundred or so feet in front of them, a distance that would have been crossed in a matter of minutes, had Raghnildur not stopped once more.

'Falathiel, I have heard your whispered prayers to Eru Ilœvatar, and before we continue I would have you offer a prayer aloud for the four of us if it would please you." Falathiel agreed, and for a few moments Raghnildur and Telta stood in silence as the Telerin elf sought the face of Eru on their behalf. As she finished, the three companions each took a deep breath, turned once again to face the village of Rhosgobel and finished their journey. Each jaw was set and six eyes were narrowed as they took their first steps into the town.

LŽan‘ had only managed to sleep for an hour or two.

Her dreams had been restless, full of shadows and indistinct shapes of men in arrayed in bright armour. Of the sounds of a fierce battle raging. Of a banner, held high, catching and fluttering in the breeze. The symbol on the banner was one she had never seen before. There was something very strange about it. It arose in LŽan‘ a vague and unsettling sense of fear. Yet within all this a ball of light had seemed to shine, glowing bright, held aloft by an outstretched hand. And again the strange song she had heard in Imladris had come back to her in her dreams, and was still ringing in her ears as she awoke...

"...You are far-away bound, seeking answers beyond this world

The Sea murmurs a haunting song; the wind passes through the silent halls

Listen! Will you answer their call?

The land knows your heart; it is bound to the earth

But your destiny lies not here... "

What could it mean? When she had first heard it, LŽan‘ had dismissed the song as one of the many the Elves of Imladris sing, though she had never once heard it before during her stay. And she had been in Imladris for a while. It had been almost three years since she had returned there... Her memories went back to the first time she had seen Rivendell, in the year 4 FA, a little over four years ago. She had been 20 at that time, and in many ways, still a child. But much had befallen her since then. She and her companions had remained there only a month or so, before setting out on a quest to... She did not want to remember. Those memories were still too painful. Yet through the journey she had grown, seen and learnt much, and eventually she had returned to Imladris and had been allowed to remain there, to seek and gain knowledge, and to learn how to control the Gift she had. She had managed to gain some form of control, and the visions did not disturb her or cause her as much distress as they used to. But now...

LŽan‘ sighed and got out of bed, hurriedly washing and getting dressed. Despite her troubled dreams, her body felt more refreshed. Perhaps she should tell Lord Elbren what she had seen. 'But what can I tell him? I saw nothing but vague shapes and shadows," she murmured softly to herself. 'It could have been anything. A dream brought on by my tiredness. Memories. Not really a vision at all." Tiredly, she passed a hand over her eyes, suddenly wishing she was back in Imladris, with her books and scrolls, under the kindly tutelage of Gildor, the Scribe of Imladris, or one of the Twins (when she was lucky). In the next instant she berated herself for thinking in this fashion. 'No, that will not do. I will not give up so easily," she said aloud, a determined look on her face. She had wanted to do this. She could not deny that she was a warrior, first and foremost, and although she greatly desired to be knowledgeable in the history of Middle-Earth and its people; like many of her people, her greatest joy, if could be called that, came when she was in battle.

After a little while LŽan‘ left the room, intending to find Lord Elbren. She had resolved not to tell him anything about her 'dream', not until she was absolutely sure. Her reason for seeking out the Guild Master now was a simple one. She wanted to ask him whether or not she could visit the armoury now to select her weapon. She remembered him telling her that she was allowed to choose one. With his approval. So that meant he would have to accompany her there. She sincerely hoped that he was not busy; he had seemed rather distracted and worried when she had spoken to him last night. She knew, instinctively, that this journey that she was to set out on soon would not involve just delivering a message, as Lord Elbren had said. No, there was something more going on. LŽan‘ wondered what it could be; then shrugged lightly. She would know soon enough, she supposed. Her thoughts turned once again to the armoury. LŽan‘ was eager to see the armoury of Eryn Lasgalen. It would be quite different from the one in Imladris, she was sure. The Mirkwood Elves were more used to battle, and therefore would probably have more weapons to choose from. Thanks to her Uncle LŽod, the Weaponmaster of Edoras, LŽan‘ knew much about weapons, their forging, and their uses. It was an art that fascinated her, and she was a good weaponsmith herself.

As she walked through the twisting and turning paths, stopping a passing Elf once or twice to ask for directions to the Dining Hall, she wondered idly who else, other than herself, would be accompanying Lord Elbren to Esgaroth. Lake Town! LŽan‘ had heard much of the place, and had even been lucky enough to once sample the justly famous Dorwinion wine, but she had never been there. A thrill of excitement went down LŽan‘'s spine as she thought of seeing the Lonely Mountain and the realm of the Dwarves, the Kingdom under the Mountain. Though many the Rohirrim held no great love for the Dwarves, nor they for the Rohirrim, LŽan‘ had learnt enough about them in the past five years to know and appreciate their unique brand of loyalty and bravery. One of her dearest friends during her journey and subsequent stay in Imladris had been a Dwarf named Rodrin. Of course, it had been almost two years since he had gone back to his home, but LŽan‘ still remembered him fondly.

Thinking all these things, LŽan‘ made her way at last to the Dining Hall. She found a few people gathered there, eating breakfast. Lord Elbren was not there. Not knowing anyone else, LŽan‘ murmured a shy greeting before settling herself hurriedly in the farthest shadowed corner of the table, away from everyone. 'Hoping to become invisible, eh, LŽan‘?" she thought, and uttered a small, soft laugh at the thought. 'That is one talent I shall never have."

Just then, another Elf entered the Hall. Tall, dark-haired and dark-eyed, she looked rather wild. She stood a moment, and coolly surveyed the room. Her eyes fell on LŽan‘, and despite LŽan‘'s best efforts to remain hidden in the shadows, the Elf smiled and started to walk towards her. She sat down on the chair next to LŽan‘, and smiled again. She looked towards the others for a moment before turning to face LŽan‘. 'Am I too early for breakfast? Or too late?" she asked, arching her eyebrows. A pause, and then, 'Oh, I have not introduced myself. I am Riencuran." The way she smiled, it reminded LŽan‘ of a wolf watching its prey. Immediately, she wanted to laugh. You are letting your imagination run away with you there, LŽan‘. 'Mae govannen, Riencuran," she replied. 'A pleasure to meet you. I am LŽan‘. And I do not know about breakfast; I have only just arrived myself." 'Oh yes?" she grinned. 'Well, I had guessed you were not from Mirkwood." 'You are right; I am not," said LŽan‘, laughing. 'My home is in Rohan, but I have come here from Imladris. And I meant I had only just arrived at the Hall. I reached Mirkwood last night." 'You have come from Imladris?" asked Rien sharply. When LŽan‘ nodded in answer, her expression changed; she scowled and looked away, and did not speak again. LŽan‘ wondered why the name of Imladris affected this Elf so, but seeing the expression on her face, LŽan‘ did not dare ask. After a while Rien sighed and said, rather stiffly, 'I apologise. Imladris holds some... bad memories... for me." LŽan‘ made a sympathetic gesture, but the Elf did not notice. Instead, she asked, 'Have you come to join the Mithril Knights?" There was curiosity in her eyes, and a flicker of warmth that had been absent just a moment ago. LŽan‘ looked at her, surprised at the change of subject. 'Why, yes. Lord Elbren himself is to be my Mentor Knight," she said, smiling. 'I shall leave with him (and perhaps another) on an errand soon. But how did you..." 'Lord Elbren? Yes, I met him last night..." LŽan‘ leaned forward, interested, hoping Rien would say more, and confirm what she had begun to suspect. She had a feeling that this was the Elf who would be travelling with Lord Elbren and herself to Esgaroth.

A solitary figure suddenly appeared in the high brush well outside of Rhosgobel though not yet into the thicket of the forest that sheltered the town's eastern borders. For a full mile or more in al directions there was none to witness this arrival and that was for the best.

The early rays of the day's newborn sun blazed atop the branches of the trees of Taur-e-Ndaedelos, the Sindarin name for Mirkwood, The Forest of Great Fear. The man shaded his eyes and scanned the world beneath that fiery illusion that made it seem as if the forest was ablaze. The waning morning breeze carried a few whining notes of complaint.

'I agree," Erinhue responded, " But the trail begins here so this is where we should be, to start with anyway. There are things we might yet discover here, besides you can always take us further north if what we guess at darkly should pan out."

A sharp blast of outrage that sounded suspiciously like a derisive snort came from the harp. Erinhue laughed. 'I know that too, but you will do it if I ask. You can get your revenge right now. I need you to help me with an illusion. I used my very best disguise here once before, it would be recognized."

An ominous tone rang from Agarak's strings followed by a few staccato blasts from the little dragon's flared nostrils. Erinhue looked down at himself but saw no change in his appearance. He held out his arms for examination and asked, 'What do I look like?"

The overweight, balding image of a man that was more used to a life of ease and over indulgence than a life of adventure lived out on the road jumped before his minds inner eye. Erinhue burst out laughing at the wildly unflattering, but instantly recognizable image of his one time bardic master, Daedalus of Gondor.

'For this I should make you take us all there and back again." Erinhue's laugh wound down to a chuckle as he looked back towards the distant Guildhouse. Turning yet again the bard began making his way to the not too far off town of Rhosgoel. He was very thankful that he did not feel the weight that appeared to pad his frame, it would have made the trip quite unpleasant.

A final inquiring trill came from the harp.

'You're right again, they won't." Erinhue agreed, 'we'll have to keep an eye out for them."

Rien's rest had not been pleasant. Haunting memories flitted in and out of her dreams, saddening, painful memories that she longed to forget. She had woken up crying softly, tears running down her cheeks. Stop it Riencuran, just stop. You knew Mirkwood would awaken old thoughts, and you haven't cried about it for more than a thousand years. Stop, and act like the Elf you are. She got up and ran her long fingers through her short black hair, and changed into an outfit identical to yesterdays: dark green and black. She silently opened her door, and slipped quietly out the building. She asked a few Elves where to find to Dining Hall, and was pointed the way through the twisting, turning paths till she found her destination.

Upon entering, she stood a moment, and coolly surveyed the room. Her eyes fell on a Mortal, and despite the girl's best efforts to remain hidden in the shadows, the Elf smiled and started to walk towards her. She sat down on the chair next to the human, and smiled again. She looked towards the others for a moment before turning to face her.

'Am I too early for breakfast? Or too late?" she asked, arching her eyebrows. She paused. 'Oh, I have not introduced myself. I am Riencuran."

'Mae govannen, Riencuran," she replied. 'A pleasure to meet you. I am LŽan‘. And I do not know about breakfast; I have only just arrived myself."

'Oh yes?" she grinned. 'Well, I had guessed you were not from Mirkwood."

'You are right; I am not," said LŽan‘, laughing. 'My home is in Rohan, but I have come here from Imladris. And I meant I had only just arrived at the Hall. I reached Mirkwood last night."

'You have come from Imladris?" asked Rien sharply. When LŽan‘ nodded in answer, her expression changed; she scowled and looked away, and did not speak again. After a while Rien sighed and said, rather stiffly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

'I apologize. Imladris holds some...bad memories...for me." She looked around the room, then back again to the girl. 'Have you come to join the Mithril Knights?" There was curiosity in her eyes, and a flicker of warmth that had been absent just a moment ago. LŽan‘ looked at her, surprised at the change of subject.

'Why, yes. Lord Elbren himself is to be my Mentor Knight," she said, smiling. 'I shall leave with him, and perhaps another, on an errand soon. But how did you..."

'Lord Elbren? Yes, I met him last night..." LŽan‘ leaned forward, interested.

'You know him? Is he to be your mentor also?"

'I believe he is going to be."

'Then we will be traveling together to Esgaroth!" LŽan‘ said happily. Ri smiled, looking once again like a wolf about to pounce on it's prey.

'I'm looking forward to it." She paused for a slight moment. 'Would you mind if I asked you some things LŽan‘?"

'Of course not." The girl smiled.

'Could you tell me if anything has happened in Imladris, and about your home, Rohan?" Since I may never return to the first, to my home, she thought somewhat bitterly, and have never been to the latter. She smiled, covering up the brief flash of pain that crossed her face, and listened to LŽan‘.

A singular conversion of talent, timing and the most auspicious luck brought virtually instantaneous fame to Daedalus of Gondor. A minor talent in the tattered remnant of the ancient fellowship, the bard had benefited from the most brilliant inspiration he had ever, and would ever, have coming at a time that coincided with the adventurous, near cataclysmic ending of an age. Daedalus of Gondor was the self same minstrel that wrote and sang, 'Frodo of the Nine Fingers' at the celebrations surrounding the coronation of Gondor's returned king.

That single song had made his fortune and reputation and with little else to recommend him, he became the Principal Bard and Lore Master to the Court of King Elessar. Daedelus rarely left the gates of the White City and Gondor not at all. Minas Tirith was more than days away, so Erinhue felt secure in his disguise.

His adopted appearance suited that of a merchant than of a bard, someone forced to go abroad rather than one who lived his life that way. It offered a different method of approach and Erinhue quickly warmed to the task at hand.

First he accosted a member of the guard and loudly demanded to know the location of the best dining hall, declaring, for all to hear, that a man of his importance would accept nothing but the very best. When he was satisfied that his blustery show had attracted every rouge in town, Erinhue made his way to the recommended establishment.

It was more time for the morning meal, but Erinhue made certain to demand a dish that was generally served for dinner. Put off by the 'rights' of this particular customer, the owner's scowl changed when he saw the gold coin pulled from a fat purse Erinhue had plucked from an exiting pocket when he first came in the door.

The meal was well worth every 'borrowed' penny and Erinhue enjoyed it all immensely. He had left the Guildhouse without going to breakfast and traveling with Agarak was always hungry work. He had attracted enough attention. Now there was time to sit and let things take their course. As he called for another flagon of wine, Erinhue smiled and thought, this was as good a way as any to wait for the others to find him.

The strength behind Raghnildur's words made Telta glad he was working with them and not against them. She had the feeling that he would be a force to reckon with. Death was a possibility, one that could befall all of them, one that she dared not dwell on. She needed to keep her mind on the task at hand distractions like that were dangerous so she concentrated on the way ahead and her surroundings.

Raghnildur brought up a good point about where were they supposed to search for Erinhue. An idea began to take root and Telta spoke her thoughts out loud. 'Rhosgobel is where I was initially supposed to meet Lord Erinhue, Raghnildur. He and I had agreed to meet at a tavern here before plans changed. I know this tavern, and feel that he may be waiting for us there."

It was agreed to try the tavern first. Erinhue had used a disguise in Carrock as Raghnildur pointed out and there was a good chance he would do so again. It would be foolhardy of him not to considering what had happened the first time.

The way ahead was clear, no sign of anyone. They came across the well worn road leading into Rhosgobel but chose not to follow it...at least not directly. Moving silently along the same line as the road but at a distance, they kept it in sight noticing a few riders entering the town before them. Raghnildur shook his head in answer to their unasked question. None of the men did he recognize.

As they drew closer Raghnildur pulled his cloak about him concealing as best he could his identity. Telta as well as Falathiel followed suit. The two elves were not worried about being recognized as was Raghnildur for they had no contact with the Knights. But the longer they remained anonymous the greater the chance of passing through town without any trouble. A brief flash of pain reminded Telta that the ones she had encountered in Mirkwood could very well be from the same group.

Now on the edge of town they stopped to take in it's activity. The streets were crowded . 'The tavern is on the far side of the town, unfortunately. And in this light.." Telta looked up at the sky "..taking the direct route would I think be best. Keeping the arrival of three people unseen in such a busy place as this, would I think be almost impossible."

Fala was the first one to speak and when she did it was barely above a whisper as she stood between Raghnildur and Telta. 'How will we recognize Lord Erinhue if he is not himself?" Telta did not hesitate confident in her answer. 'I have known Erinhue for quite some time. I WILL recognize him." She did not go into any more detail as they would think she had lost all reason if she were to tell them it was his eyes that gave him away. She knew only one other with the same stormy sea grey eyes and a warmth spread through her. Erinhue would not be hard to find...not for her. Several moments passed before Raghnildur spoke. 'Lead the way Lady Telta." She would have to speak to him of the Lady part but now was not the time. Falathiel nodded her head slowly perhaps a little doubtful of Telta's words yet she agreed with him. 'Yes please do my friend."

Telta headed through the street leading the tiny group toward the tavern. She did not rush but walked steadily along. To any who passed they were no more than visiting travellers taking in the sights. Several vendors lined the streets selling their wares and she and Falathiel stopped along the way playing the part she hoped well enough to avert suspicion from them. Raghnildur remained their shadow not venturing too close yet he was there observing, alert to all that went on around them ready for trouble should it find them, as were the two elves.

Falathiel's quick reflexes prevented an elderly man from falling into the street when he stumbled and bumped into her. He apologized for his clumsiness and she assured him no harm was done. Apart from this incident their trek to the tavern was unhindered.

As they neared the entrance Raghnildur slowed down. His hand clenched and unclenched. The tension emanating from him was strong. In unison the two elves spoke. 'Raghnildur?"

'Could you tell me if anything has happened in Imladris, and about your home, Rohan?"

LŽan‘ gazed at Rien suspiciously for a moment, and then asked with a smile, 'What would you like to know? I am afraid my memories of Rohan will bore you after a while; to me it is home and therefore dear to my heart, and I would talk about Rohan and its beauty and majesty and history and people for hours without end."

She paused and laughed, colouring a little. Already she was getting carried away.

'And Imladris... what can I tell you about Imladris? I think you may know more of the place than I, being an Elf. My stay in Imladris has been brief; I first came there when I was but 19 summers old, but my stay there then was for a little while. I returned later, and have now been there for nearly three years, learning about Middle-Earth and its people, about the Valar and the Blessed Realm, and learning also, to control my Gift."

'Your gift? What gift?" asked Rien, curious.

'Yes; you see I have..." but LŽan‘ trailed off; unsure and uneasy suddenly. She did not know why, but instinctively she felt that the less people knew abot her "gift", the better.

So she smiled at Rien, and changed the subject. "I do not think we shall get breakfast here any time soon, do you? Shall we go and search for the kitchen and see if we can procure some food there? Or perhaps we could go to the armoury? I confess I am very eager to see that place. What say you?" LŽan‘ smiled again and leaned back, and waited for Rien to answer.

As they approached the tavern where Telta expected they might find Lord Erinhue, Raghnildur stopped short. The two elves looked, and immediately knew something was wrong. As he stood there clenching his hands, unsure of what to do next, simultaneously they spoke his name, questioning what was wrong. He shook his head and tried to breathe calmly, for he did not want to alarm his two companions.

'I expect the two of you should enter the tavern alone, Lady Telta and Lady Falathiel. One of the men I encountered here just entered, and he is not wearing the same garments he was wearing that night. I fear that my encounter with them has aroused their suspicions and they have chosen to shed their uniforms for a spell. I shall remain out here while the two of you look for Lord Erinhue." His hand subconsciously unfastened the safety loop on his scabbard. 'Do not concern yourselves with me, I can defend myself quite efficiently. The two of you have more chance of finding Erinhue unnoticed if I do not accompany you inside."

The two elves nodded in agreement, resolution on their face. As he had asked them not to fear for him, so he had no doubt they would be safe. Chivalrous as he was, he expected any of these so-called Knights that tried to accost one of his companions were in for quite the surprise. Not to mention if their guess was correct, their master was also in this tavern, and Raghnildur pitied the man who found himself in his mentor's ill grace.

With a short 'farewell and may Eru guide your steps," the two elves left Raghnildur and crossed the remaining distance to the tavern. Without looking back, in the case that one of their enemies were watching, they entered the tavern. Raghnildur quickly surveyed the road to determine where the best place for him to watch the establishment would be. He noticed a smithing house near to the tavern, which would serve ideally. Keeping his hood close around his face, he strode to the door and entered after a knock.

The smith promptly greeted him and asked him what his business might be. Raghnildur asked to see the smith's finest blade, knowing that his presence would go unhindered if the man thought he could make a hefty sale. The smith took him straightaway to the back of the room, where Raghnildur was told to wait as the man went through a doorway. From his vantage point he could clearly see the tavern through the door, which he had conveniently 'forgotten' to close. Various people entered and exited the tavern, none of which gave him reason for alarm.

The smith returned from the room, carrying a long sword with a beautifully crafted pommel. Raghnildur smiled, recognizing it to be very smartly made. He took the blade from the man and examined it, checked the balance, and asked about the tang construction. The smith beamed, knowing his customer was knowledgeable enough to pay a heavy price for such a fine blade. 'You seem to know quite a bit about how a sword is forged, good sir," he said. Raghnildur smiled once more and, keeping an eye on the tavern across the street, set the sword down on the counter and drew his own.

'I know a deal greater than you are aware, my friend," he replied. He handed his prized blade to the smith and said 'I crafted this sword myself, over months of toil and many deliveries of steel." The man's eyes widened at the sight of Raghnildur's blade, longer and wider than most men could ever wield. Raghnildur continued, 'In seven years of use, you'll notice the blade has not a single notch. Indeed, the sound this sword makes as it meets another is unlike any I've heard. It sings. It makes me wonder if that is what the music of the Ainur sounded like."

Carefully the man handed Raghnildur's sword back to him, no longer hoping to make a sale. 'Surely you can find no blade finer than that in my shop or any you've entered. You most certainly did not come here to make a purchase, friend. Why have you come into my forge," the man asked. Raghnildur smiled. 'I enjoy looking at blades others have crafted, good sir. The trade is wonderful, no matter the skill level. Sometimes the only thing that calms my spirit is the smell and sight of a forgery. If you think I have come to compare skill, that is not entirely untrue. It never hurts a man to have his confidence bolstered, but I say in all honesty that your skill and love for the craft is obvious in the ware you create."

The smith smiled at his words, and opened his mouth to speak, but an urgency in Raghnildur's heart spoke to him and he knew it was time for him to regain watch on the tavern. Raghnildur shook the man's calloused hand and thanked him for his time, and quickly made for the door. With his hand on the hilt of his sword, he stepped out of the building onto the street.

Only a few of the Knights of the Silmaril remained in the small town in Rhosgobel; their captain had departed several days before, with the greater number of their Order, and sped back North and then West to their hidden Guild House. They had left only a few behind with the intention of determining if they had been followed by the Red Hammer, or, even possibly the Mithril Knights themselves...they had been given specific orders not to engage any enemy, unless they had no choice, and if indeed they were followed, they were to lead the chase well away from the actual destination and home of those who still honoured Feanor's Oath...

Elbren did not sleep more than a few hours before he finally gave up the struggle and began to prepare for his journey. Packing his bags, he was not surprised to hear a knock at the door and find Marius waiting, already dressed and, by the looks of it, ready for travel.

"Mae Govannon, Marius," Elbren greeted, inviting the young Prince into his chamber, "all is ready?"

"Aye, it is. The horses are waiting for us and I have sent word to Alandriel and the others that we depart within the hour."

"We must first visit the Armoury with the new Knights in Training," Elbren nodded his thanks, "I will meet you at the stables shortly. Aa!" Elbren cried out as Marius looked alarmed.

"What is it?" Marius asked.

"I have continued to neglect the reforging of my father's sword," a curse escaped from Elbren's lips.

"You have the short sword that I retrieved for you in Edoras," Marius pointed to the blade that hung from Elbren's belt.

"Yes, and I much appreciative of that," Elbren replied, "but I had meant to carry my father's sword into the upcoming battle..." another whispered curse emerged, "but it cannot be helped now."

"The blade is now in Caras Galadhon?" Marius asked.

"Yes, in my haste to depart and find the Dark Champion, I left it there," Elbren's face revealed his disappointment in himself, "nevertheless....let us make ready to depart."

*********************************

Marius went to retrieve Alandriel and Tallain, while Elbren went in search of Leane and Riencuran. He was fully dressed for travel and battle: a mail shirt over leather, heavy leather gauntlets, his Mithril Knight helmet held in the crook of his arm, boots, and Mithril Cloak. Over his mail shirt he now wore his leather hauberk from the Chamber of Valacirca, and indeed the fastenings shone with an inner light that formed the Sickle of the Valar.

He found Ri and Leane together, "Let us to the armoury for you to choose an item as is our tradition. This item must be approved by myself and the Master of Arms. Then we shall depart forthwith. Are you ready?"

When the two ladies nodded, Elbren turned and walked quickly down the twisting corridors until they reached the Mirkwood Guild House armoury. The guards allowed them entry and Elbren was not surprised to find Radagast and Elenath there along with the newly obtained Chamber of Valacirca leather hauberks.

"Greetings," Elbren said to them. "Lady Elenath, perhaps you will take my two new companions into the armoury and allow them to choose their gift?"

Elenath nodded, "Of course. Come with me," she said to Ri and Leane.

When they had left, Elbren turned to Radagast, "I would share with you something that happened in here early this morning."

"Oh?" Radagast found a seat amongst the many arms and armour and sat down heavily, "what was that?"

"Well, I don't quite know what to make of it, actually. There was a Dwarf here that spoke to me...in Khuzdul...and then he was gone."

"Who was it?" Radagast asked.

"I've never seen him before," Elbren replied.

"Surely your Order is not grown so large that you do not know your own members?"

"No, it has not. It was odd, Radagast, almost like a dream."

"What was it that he said?"

"I do not know the tongue of the Dwarves," Elbren said.

"Can you repeat what you remember? For I DO know the tongue of the Dwarves," the Wizard urged, smiling.

"Uhh...something like....Nizd Qak Baruk..." Elbren struggled with the harsh consonants.

"Hmm," Radagast thought a moment, "that comes to something like Mind or beware the Red Axe...but that we know, Elbren."

Elbren shook his head, "The Dwarf seemed very upset that I did not understand him."

Radagast sat in contemplative silence, but then his eyes widened, "Oh my...."

"What?" Elbren asked.

"I had not made this connection before...Elbren, the Khuzdul word for 'sickle' is Hamit."

Elbren shook his head, "I do not---"

"Qak Hamit...the Red Hammer is how we have called this Eastern tribe of Dwarves...but in Khuzdul, that translates to the Crimson Sickle."

Elbren's face paled, "You mean...the Sickle....the Chamber....could be of THEIR making?"

"Indeed it could and that would explain why they are so intent upon taking Orthanc as their own. Perhaps they seek the Sickle that you now keep...." Radagast stood and began to pace, "perhaps, at one time, the Red Hammer were allies and helped to construct the Chamber and that weapon of power."

"This does not bode well...could this be why Nienor-Niniel will not heal? Because the Sickle is of their making---"

"And demands a blood sacrifice."

"But to purify it or lay claim?!" Elbren's voice rose in the eerie silence of the ancient armoury.

"That I do not yet know, but I intend to find out. I will handle this, Elbren, you continue with your plans."

Elbren grabbed the old Wizard by the shoulders as Radagast made ready to leave the room, "Please, Radagast, do not let Nienor-Niniel be made a sacrifice for these horrid Dwarves!"

"I will do all that I can, I promise you."

*********************************

Meanwhile, back in Lothlorien, a small figure was making his way into the stables near the city gates of Caras Galadhon. He was silent and quick, but not quick enough.

"Are you leaving?"

Galadhon, nephew to Elbren, nearly jumped out of his skin at the words, even though he recognised the voice as that of his friend and foster-brother, Ronin, son of Tempest.

Galadhon's face was determined, "I am. The dreams of Rosmarien continue to darken and she told me this morning that she dreamed of my Uncle Elbren's death. I will not let that happen!"

"Carnimiriel will not allow you to leave," Ronin said, though his voice was full of excitement.

"She will not know until I am far away from the borders of Lothlorien," Galadhon pronounced, leading his horse out of the stall and out of the dark stables.

"And what will you do? YOU cannot save Elbren even if Rosmarien's dreams are something more than a child's fears!" Ronin exclaimed.

"HUSH!" Galadhon clamped his hand over Ronin's mouth, even as Ronin stepped back angrily and slapped the hand away. "I am going to him and warning him. I have heard strange things...wolves in the Golden Wood...Prince Marius saw a wolf change into a woman! Evil has come and he MUST know!"

"You are a fool, Galadhon," Ronin sneered.

"I might be a fool, Ronin," the young Elf replied as he mounted his horse and made ready to ride, "but I will not sit here in Caras Galadhon while my Uncle may be riding to his death. He is the only father that I have now...he is in Mirkwood and to Mirkwood I will go."

Ronin stood silent seeming in deep thought.

"You could ride with me," Galadhon finally said, "your mother is in Mirkwood, too."

Erinhue soon tired of simply being obnoxious. He ate enough to satisfy his hunger and then a bit more because he couldn't say for sure when he would get another meal as fine as this. When the staff was finally driven to their wits' end he made a great show of leaving to seek out some of his more customary pastimes.

An armed troop of men in dark cloaks road by him in speed and urgency that had no apparent cause. Instinct said that he should follow them, it would be a simple thing if Agarak would cooperate. The bard rejected the idea his instincts seemed to be working in reverse for some reason so doing the exact opposite would probably be best. The man he had been watching turned in the saddle to keep the merchant in view for a few moments, perhapse responding to some instinct of his own. Erinhue raised his hand and waved as one might do to a passing parade. The man snorted, then ignored him and moved on.

In this new guise the bard was unrecognizable as the elderly minstrel of his earlier visit and this persona was far less suspicious a figure then his normal self would have appeared. Erinhue smiled to himself and remembered that he was not the Warrior/Bard Erinhue, he was a balding ,aging rather corpulent merchant dealing in one item or another. This man was no warrior, so much so that Erinhue had to be at his best to keep himself from becoming the victim he so temptingly appeared.

The blustery malcontent in the restaurant was a different person in the one time fashionable establishment that had long since seen its best days go by. This was the same place where he and originally arranged to meet with Telta. She would remember that and come to look for him here when they realized he had told them to meet him without telling them where.

In the small tavern the merchant let it be known that he had a particuar facination for tales of adventure and daring do. He began to recount on of the many stories about the legendary Mithril Knigths displaying a star struck awe at the very mention of their name.

In no time someone challenged the validity of the stories and told the merchant to come and join them if he wanted to hear some stories of the adventures of some 'real Knights." This was perfect and Erinhue showed his true appreciation in buying drinks for everyone at the table he had been called to join.

Being Erinhue, a deck of cards was soon produced and the men engaged in a friendly game of poker. The bard encouraged the men to talk as he skillfully guided the course of play to allow the men, each in his turn, to win just enough to keep him at the table and ordered repeated rounds of drink to keep them bragging of their exploits.

If the goslings take till night fall to find me, Erinhue thought, I'll know everything this bunch knows about anything interesting. If not it was a more than plesant way to pass an afternoon.

Rho, Chiron, and Jiyadan left the stables and reached the armory while the other Knights were still enjoying the celebratory breakfast. The shieldmaiden introduced herself and Jiyadan to the man standing guard and at hearing the name Lady Rholarowyn handed her a note. Rho took the note, and smiled, then after reading it, she folded it back up and nodded to the guard.

'Thank you," she replied.

The guard opened the door, and the two slipped into the room. It was larger then Rho had imagined and it was well lit with wall torches. Jiyadan turned to his left and began to look around at the various items up the shelves. Some of the larger items were place neatly on the floor.

'Take your time." Rho said as she moved further back into the room. There were swords, and daggers, spears, and various other items of weaponry. Along the side wall she noted items more for protection, vambraces, pieces of chain mail, and the like.

'Is there anything in particular that you need Jiyadan?"

Jiyadan didn't answer her right away. He walked slowly down a row of racks which held weapons of all kinds: spears, swords, axes, hammers, maces and more. His fingers lighted over a few, yet he did not pick any.

"These are all of excellent craftsmanship," he said softly as he continued to look at all the armory held. "Yet, I have no need of weapons. Nor have I need of armor such as is offered here."

His eyes then passed over a few more racks to come to rest upon some shields. "But a shield... that would be a useful item indeed."

Something caught Rho's eyes just as Jiyadan spoke his last sentence to her. There in the dark corner something hung from the wall. Reaching out, she removed the bow and the quiver stuffed full of arrows from the hook and looked the items over carefully before walking over to where Jiyadan was now looking at shields.

Jiyadan ran his hands reverently over the lines and curves of the shields. Some had emblems he did not recognize, others that he did, but one in particular stood out to him. It was old, he knew, but he was unsure to what extent. The sleek look was almost elvish, but still a shield of men.

Picking up the item, he tested its weight and balance, finding it felt amazingly light yet was strong. Holding it up he showed Rho the symbols carved into the surface and inlaid with strange material that seemed almost like mother of pearl. "Lady Rholarowyn, what is this symbol here? I do not recognize it thought it seems familiar somehow."

She looked at the symbol for a moment then glanced down at the bow and quiver she was holding and then looked back up. 'Jiyadan, that is the symbol of Numenor." Then she held out the bow and handed it to him. 'This bow and this quiver have the same symbol."

Jiyadan set the shield down and gently took the bow and quiver, admiring both the skill of their make and the symbol they bore. Handing the quiver back, he glided his hand along the strong upper limb of the bow then slid his fingers back along the string and finally traced the Numenorean symbol with his finger. He had never been an archer, but knew their skill and usefulness well, and a slight smile graced his lips. "You are an archer as well then? I had not known."

Remaining silent for a few moments, Rho was uncertain if she should bring up Tallain's name again to Jiyadan, but finally decided to go ahead. 'I have become a recent student of the art you might say. Tallain began teaching me on our journey to here. We both were surprised to discover that I have an actual talent for the weapon."

Jiyadan frowned a little as Rho explained, feeling uneasiness within him; but he kept his thoughts to himself and only nodded. When her brief story was finished, he handed the bow back to her and picked up the shield once more. "If it is permitted, this is the item I should take for myself."

'And I will take the bow and arrows." Rho replied. The note she'd been given before entering the room had been one telling the shieldmadien that she too could pick out a weapon of choice since she'd never been given the chance to visit a Mithril Knight armory before.

When both had made their choices the two left the room, thanked the guard, and began walking. Just then Rho saw Radagast approaching from down the hall. Though she had never seen the wizard before, she had heard many stories about him. Smiling at Jiyadan the two stopped until he had reached them, then Rho politely introduced herself, the wolf, and Jiyadan. Radagast seemed pleased and knelt down to give Chirion his own friendly greeting then stood up again.

'You are the Lady Rholarowyn?" The wizard asked.

Rho nodded.

'Then I have something for you."

Rho and Jiyadan watched as he went through a few of the tunics in his arm until he found the one he was looking for and pulled it out. 'This is for you." He said as he handed to the Mithril Knight.

'It is'it is beautiful." Rho replied awestruck as she touched the dark blue leather and noted of the seven buckles. 'But why?"

'These were found in a vault of stone near the chamber where you saw the sickle with your own eyes. I think that you and the other knights who've been there may have been chosen or foretold to be Guardians of that Chamber. That is all I can say for now, but someday Elbren will have more information for you."

'Thank you," Rho looked up at the wizard with deep appreciation. 'I will wear this with honor."

Rho and Jiyadan said their final good-bye to the wizard who continued on his way to the place the remaining tunics in the armory while Rho led Jiyadan back to his room. After a brief discussion of their plans for later, she left the Easterling and returned to her own room hoping to get some rest before they departed later.

She had just laid upon the bed Rho suddenly remember Tallain. Slowly pushing herself back up she motioned for Chirion to stay put as she then left the room to seek out her other Easterling friend and tell him she would be leaving him soon.

Jiyadan was markedly impressed with the array of arms and armor available for him to choose from. His warrior spirit was stirred by the sheer volume, and even more so by the quality. Though he admired each piece there, he did not need any of them and passed by one rack after another of weapons and armor.

It was not until his eyes came to rest on the shield that he was prompted to choose something for himself. When Rho confirmed its origin as Numenor he knew this was what he desired to take. Something deep within his very soul longed for this, like a strange symbol of his past, his pride in his heritage welling up within. "Numenor," he whispered to himself almost inaudibly.

****

Before they left, Jiyadan took one last look around and smiled. "Moujhadin would have loved to see this," he murmured quietly before turning and following Rho from the chamber.

The Easterling remained mostly silent during the exchange between Rho and the wizard, whom Rho introduced as Radagast, one of the five of Middle-Earth. His mind wandered slightly to the wizard that he had heard of in Harad, and that he swore he had seen once from afar.

Clad in blue and known there as Finsev-Jiva Ra'den, meaning literally 'Blue Grandfather,' he was reportedly a powerful wizard who had knowledge of the stars and the heavens, though his deeds were mostly with the strange race of Elves that lived far to the east even of Rhun.

The conversation between Rho and this wizard did not last long, but he gave her a fine tunic of strange make and Jiyadan's eyes were drawn to it even as they made their fare-wells and continued on to his quarter. Though he did not presume to ask about it, questions filled his mind and he found his eyes constantly drawn back to it until they reached his door and entered.

The servants had apparently already tended to his room, as the wash basin was fresh and the fire was now going. He laid his robe over the back of the chair and poked at the fire a bit as Rho and he discussed briefly their plans for the coming days and then she excused herself to tend to some needs and to rest also.

After Rho left, Jiyadan lifted the shield again and looked at it a while, letting his fingers trace the inlaid patterns upon it over and over. Soon, however, his eyes refused to stay open and he set the shield carefully beside the dresser and propped against the wall. He then placed his journal and the other items he had retrieved from his pack on the desk and stretched out on the bed. It was only a matter of moments before he was fast asleep.

Too soon, it seemed, there was a knock at his door and he felt himself pulled unwillingly from his slumber. The knock repeated and he forced his body to sit up. "Come," he called, and the door opened.

"It will be dusk soon, we need to get our things together if we want to leave tonight," he heard Rho's voice call. The fire had dwindled to coals and the darkness of the room did not allow him to see her, but he knew her voice. Lighting the lamp, the small room was filled with its pale glow and he noted that Rho was wearing the gift he had sent to her in Harad.

"The shirt fits you well," he said as he buttoned his tunic. The black silk was visible beneath her new tunic the wizard had gifted her, and the strange symbols on the front glowed with an eerie internal light. Slipping his things from the desk back into his satchel, he picked up his robe and the new shield. "I am ready."

Rho and Jiyadan quickly went to her room where Chirion was patiently waiting and Rho's packs were full and sitting upon the bed. Giving Chirion a quick pat on the head, the shield-maiden then strapped on her Gondorian sword and picked up the Haradrim dagger Jiyadan had sent to her. "I want to thank you for the gifts." She said looking down at the dagger she now held in her hands. "This one has quite possibly saved my life once already and the shirt is very comfortable, though thankfully I haven't had the opportunity to test its protective qualities out."

Jiyadan looked her in the eyes for a moment. "I have," was all he said regarding that. "But I am glad the dagger has served you well. May it continue to do so."

"Yes I bet you have." She replied looking at the man for a few moments realizing there was so much about him she still didn't know. Breaking her gaze from his Rho turned to strap the dagger to her belt behind her back and picked up the packs off her bed. "Well now I'm ready too."

With Chirion on tow, they left Rholarowyn's room and started down one of the many seemingly endless halls of the Guildhouse. "Did you inquire after the availability of boats upon reaching the River?" the Easterling asked, then quickly added at seeing all she held, "Please, Lady Rholarowyn, allow me to carry part of your burden."

Thank you." Then she handed him one of her packs. "Yes I have arranged for an elven guide to accompany us to the river. He can take us to where there are some elven boats that are kept hidden, and then he will be able to return our horses back to the Guildhouse stables."

"That is good. What of our task, how soon must we return? I doubt we can make it in less than four weeks, especially if we will be leading an army back. Has your Lord Elbren said how soon we must return before aid is too late?"

"We need to meet Lord Elbren at the Lonely Mountain no later than Durin's Day, so that gives us a full six weeks to accomplish this task."

Jiyadan nodded and remained silent as they continued on to the stables. Rho went on to retrieve her horse and Jiyadan readied Nothea for the journey. He replaced the items he had gathered earlier and strapped the various packs once again to the saddle. He secured his two swords and various smaller weapons within easy reach while riding, and at the last, hung his new shield across the left side.

The horse seemed reluctant to leave the stall as it had been the longest rest he had enjoyed in months, but he grudgingly followed Jiyadan out into the corridor where Rholarowyn waited with her own mount. Upon noting the mare, Nothea suddenly seemed a bit more interested in making the journey.

"Our guide will be waiting at the main entrance from the Guildhouse into Thranduil's caves."

"Lead on, then," Jiyadan said and followed Rho to where they met their guide. The Elf seemed less than pleased to be guiding an Easterling but said nothing, leading them out of the caves and into the forest.

Being within the earth for even a short time had disoriented him slightly, but long shadows already covered the land and a thick darkness was settled within the trees. They quickly agreed to travel at night and take their rests in daylight before quickly urging their horses west along the Forest Road.

Raghnildur would go no further. Telta did not miss his hand moving to the sword at his side as he spoke. His carefully controlled words did not diminish the fact that something was wrong. Both elves alert, looked to the entrance of the tavern when he explained that one of the men he had encountered days before had gone inside. They listened as he reasoned that it would be best if they went in alone. He was right. They would find Erinhue easier if he did remain outside. If he had recognized one of the men then it was a strong possibility that he too could be recognized.

It was agreed that they would meet back there in front of the tavern in no more than one half hour.

'Farewell and may Eru guide your steps," he said. 'As with you Raghnildur." Falathiel responded.

Upon reaching the door they looked at each other and nodded slightly when they were ready to enter. Telta pushed open the door and moved into the dimly lit and smoke filled room with Falathiel right behind her. Several heads turned when the door opened curious to see the newcomers. They saw two tall cloaked figures hoods drawn up over their heads their identities hidden. It did not mean much as the tavern goers, for the most part, were used to such things.

Standing there now Telta remembered how unpleasant the smells emanating from the tavern were. Once again she found herself wishing for the air outside which was far more breathable than the stale, pungent aroma of ale and unwashed bodies that permeated the floors and walls and drifted up to unwary patrons, although it did not seem to bother anyone else. She suspected frequent visits would dull their senses.

Falathiel spoke quietly. 'There in the corner. That should be as good a place as any." The once interested individuals with the exception of one or two, soon forgot about them as they moved from the entrance and sat down.

Falathiel had chosen a good spot for them to sit and observe the room. Two sets of sharp eyes hidden beneath hooded cloaks observed the room. Some were eating what Telta guessed passed for food there. While others were engaged in conversation or drinking. The room was crowded and it was not easy trying to find one bard in amongst them. After several minutes Falathiel spoke quietly 'I do not see him do you?"

'No I..." Telta hesitated. Something caught her eye and her gaze went back to the table in the far corner opposite them. A game of cards was taking place there. She examined the players carefully. Four men were engaged in a game of cards and one of them was making a show of telling rather loudly, some story of adventure. Two men one with brown hair and brown eyes the other black hair, beard and blue eyes, sat across from each other nodding their heads in agreement with the loud man's stories adding a few words here and there. The three men were of average height and build with no distinguishing marks that she could see.

The fourth man was larger than the others, rotund came to mind, and balding. He sat across from the story teller and was urging the men to go on with their tales avidly taking in what they did have to say. They were encouraged to continue by free drinks and they happily indulged. The large man was just as loud as the story teller adding 'Go on, go on." whenever the story seemed to wind down. Another drink and the tale would go on embellished, she was sure, with the story teller's own ideas.

The rotund man turned and looked at the story teller. At this angle Telta had a direct view of the man and his sea grey eyes set deep in his fleshy face. She looked again. Erinhue! There was no mistake. As if her heard her thoughts he looked directly at her and winked then turned his attention quickly back to the game.

'There Falathiel. At that table." Telta indicated with a slight movement of her head. Falathiel looked. 'The large man facing us."

'Are you sure?" Falathiel looked again. 'It cannot be can it?"

'There is no doubt in my mind."

A crowd began to gather around the four men when Black Hair began accusing Brown Hair of cheating. The argument grew louder and the man angrier. Black Hair rose from his chair yelling as Brown Hair sat there drinking his ale ignoring the ranting man. The story teller remained seated enjoying the scene before him. Erinhue tried to extricate himself from the game but the dagger in Black Hair's hand pointed in his direction was an effective deterrent.

Telta and Falathiel aware of the immediate danger walked quickly but calmly over to the table. A well placed foot caught one of the onlookers as he tried to get a better view. He fell headlong into Brown Hair just as he raised his mug of ale jarring his arm. His ale went flying right into the angry man's face.

'WHY YOU CLUMSY...YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!!" Black Hair grabbed his mug and tossed the contents into Brown Hair's face then dove over the table knocking them both onto the floor.

Falathiel took the opportunity to nab Erinhue who had been momentarily forgotten, as the crowd moved back giving the fighting men room. Their pathway clear, they left the tavern. Telta was behind them a few seconds later and just before she ducked outside she turned to find the story teller picking himself up off the floor. His eyes were fixed on the door and anger she could clearly see on his face.The elf disappeared out the door.

Catching up to the others she heard Falathiel say quietly to the man beside her "Erinhue?" They slowed down when she approached and she saw him flash Falathiel one of his star bright smiles. Even in his current disuise it was unmistakable.

When Telta spoke there was an urgency in her voice. 'We cannot stay here." And to prove her point more yelling came from within the tavern.

It was time to go. The instinct first came to him nearly an hour and Erinhue would have stopped playing cards, if he intended to leave the tavern. To leave the game at this point and remain was a social breech that would bring far more trouble then keeping the game going.

To further verify his adopted person and further distance himself from his own, Erinhue had deliberately seated himself with his back to the main tavern door. When Telta and Fala arrived he could not see them but the reaction of the people around him was as good as an announcement.

With Lothlorien and Rivendel beginning the slow fade into shadows of their former selves, many of the FirstBorn who still remained wandered the lands of Middle Earth as if to commit every leaf and stone to memory before they too sought the Undying Lands across the sea. Even so it was still unusual to see any elves, much less to females' in this part of Arda's Armpit.

He had learned all there was of interest that the men at the tabe could tell. He learned more from what they didn't say and when one of the others would interrupt or change the subject. The storyteller had come down to out right lies about the Mithril Knights and telling stories of more depraved exploits, Erinhue kept a tight grip upon his temper. He was unable to even strike the man and in frustration became careless with the cards.

When one of the players began to shout about cheating, the man was only wrong in who he was accusing. Erinhue made subtle moves to leave the table, but a well and suddenly placed dagger stopped that effort before it half began. Almost just as quickly the man was falling forward and had his attention diverted by an angry accusation thrown at him. In moments the entire tavern population was engaged in a full blown brawl.

The three companions used the cover of commotion to slip outside the door. Fala stared at the mentor knight and tried to pierce the illusion of his disguise. 'Erinhue?" her voice faltered with doubt, which was instantly dispelled when he flashed his sunbright grin.

'That was neatly done, very nice indeed." Erinhue said as they moved down the street and away from the tavern. 'I wish I'd have had you two with me when I used to play poker at The Tower back in Narwaach," the bard sighed," but then that was a long time ago."

There was no more time for reverie. The crash of splintering wood and a loud outcry told them that the incident would not be left behind them in the tavern. Only two men had bothered to give chase and that was of small concern. Their outcry had been a signal of some sort, a signal to others of the so called brotherhood.

Telta's hand went to her blade. Fala looked to their left towards a nearby ally way. In the next second Erinhue could hear the sound of booted feet coming their way. Before he reached for his own sword, Erinhue imagined what it would look like to watch Daedalus wield the runeblade with the skill of a seasoned warrior. The thought made him laugh and Erinhue held on to the sound of it to drown out the murmured whine of the berserker's blood lust. He could not risk the lives of his friend by letting his temper get away from him.

Now there was no more time for thought either. The owners of those booted feet were spilling into the street spoiling for a fight. Falathiel drew her knife and she and Teltasarwen drew closer to Erinhue. When the bard pulled the great blade out from its scabbard, the three of them stood back to back to back and faced the coming fight.

As Raghnildur stepped out from the forge, his eyes rested on Telta and Falathiel back to back with an older, balding man who had to be Erinhue. The three of them had weapons drawn, and they were each sizing up the group of men who were spilling into the street to meet them. What would have been a simple exercise in swordplay was quickly developing into, by normal standards, a ten to three challenge. These men, however, knew not what lie in store for them. Raghnildur merely added to the threat, these three would most certainly be able to handle themselves quite adeptly. Yet, even so'

The first man was approaching the group at a dead run, unsheathing his sword as he shortened the distance between himself and Erinhue. The Master Bard waited and laughed, beginning to tense his frame to parry the oncoming blow. Raghnildur smiled. Now is as good a time as any to let them know I am here, he thought to himself as he drew his dagger. With a quick flip of his wrist, the dagger sped through the air and met its target just as he began to bring his sword down to meet Erinhue's. The pommel of the dagger smashed into the man's temple and he crumpled to the ground. Erinhue looked up in surprise and met Raghnildur's eyes, which flashed a quick wink.

'Good to see you here, gosling, but I expect that to be the last foe of mine that fails to reach my sword!" Erinhue picked the dagger up and in the blink of an eye it was humming in the doorjamb of the forge. 'You dropped something," the Master Bard said with a smile and wink he turned to the next opponent and raised his blade.

Immediately the fight was on. As if they had rehearsed it, the three each spun away from each other. Telta and Erinhue skillfully crossed blades with their opponents, and the unfortunate man who had chosen Falathiel as his target screamed in fury as each swing of his sword proved futile to the elf's agility. Falathiel looked to be an elf who bored easily with such game play, and after a few more swings the man fell to the ground unconscious from a forearm to the back of his neck. Raghnildur removed his dagger from the doorway next to him and replaced it in its sheath, but stood back for a moment enjoying the show. It was obvious that so far they were no match for the Knight and the two Knights in Training. Not one to miss all the fun, however, he took a deep breath and stepped down into the street.

His sword still sheathed, he calmly walked into the fray. Hearing a footfall to his right, he turned and caught an arm that was aiming to behead him. With a quick twist, the arm was broken at the elbow and the sword lay on the ground. Turning to his left, he buried his elbow deep into the man's breadbasket. As the man fell to his knees, Raghnildur grasped him by the hair and brought his face to his knee with crushing force. As the man twitched and fell into a deep slumber, Raghnildur turned, cracked his neck, and walked on.

Erinhue's sword was a blur, yet the man seemed to be putting forth no effort at all. His broad smile remained on his face as he moved on, almost sauntering toward the man he was fighting. Another man jumped behind the Master Bard, and met quick resistance; Erinhue's sword flashed even brighter as it now met the blades of two opponents.

Telta showed skill with her blade that nearly matched Erinhue's, but she also had a wound to contend with. As she masterfully moved in battle, to Raghnildur's dismay a small spot of blood began to show through her garment from the piercing she had taken. If their enemy saw that she was already hindered, she would be smothered with attackers. 'Falathiel!", Raghnildur bellowed. She turned momentarily from her struggle and met his eye, and he looked from her gaze to Telta. Falathiel's eyes followed his, and she immediately knew what she needed to do, being closer to Telta than he.

Her foe fell immediately to the ground, and with frightening speed she made her way to Telta's side. Quickly the foes around them dropped one by one, giving Falathiel a moment's time to silently convey to Telta the need to keep her abdomen from view.

Raghnildur stepped over one of the unconscious bodies and quickly surveyed the scene. The foes left standing were waning quickly and wide-eyed knowing they were outmatched by these four strangers. As Raghnildur began to walk toward Erinhue to give him a hand, something hit him heavily in the back of the head and he fell to his knees. Instinctively he touched the back of his head, and his fingers came away shining and red. The sport was gone for him, and fury enveloped his senses. Looking up, he met the gaze of a man walking around his front bearing a smug, ear-to-ear grin. The man dropped the bloodied rock onto the dirt. 'Leaving your sword in its sheath, eh? You must be either very cocky or very stupid, friend." It was the same man he had encountered on his last visit, and he now would ensure that he would not meet him again. Showing defeat on his face, Raghnildur inclined his head and held his arms out to his side.

The man laughed heartily, raised his sword, and with a yell of triumph he brought it down with full force onto Raghnildur's own blade. Astonished, the rival knight nearly dropped his own sword. Raghnildur had drawn his blade from his sheath into a block at a nearly impossible speed. Immediately Raghnildur was on his feet, and his sword blurred. The Knight of the Silmaril put forth every effort he possessed to parry the onslaught, to no avail. Raghnildur swept the man's sword to his side and waited for the man to bring the blade back to him. As the man swung his sword at Raghnildur with all his strength, Raghnildur met his blade with his own, and the man's sword was severed. Without pause, Raghnildur continued to turn, bringing his sword down to his side, and with a reverse thrust his opponent was run through.

As he stood straight from the kill, he heard the twang of a bow behind him and the hiss of an arrow approaching, and tensed himself for the impact.

As Raghnildur braced for the impact of the arrow he could not possibly avoid, he heard a soft note plucked from the long strings of a harp. A spot on his arm began to burn, the same spot that had felt the wrath of the tiny dragon of Erinhue's harp.

The arrow burst into flame and miraculously reversed its course, streaking its fiery death back to the one who set it to flight.

Telta had moved quickly outside. No sooner had the threesome moved a few steps down the street than an outcry alerting others to their presence pierced the air. When she heard it she knew they would not easily nor quietly leave Rhosgobel. Erinhue's praise of a few moments ago seemed undeserved for they had managed to leave the tavern but it would not be true of their present situation as they found themselves caught.

Swords and knives were held at the ready by the advancing men. Telta's own hand went to her sword. The feel of the cool pommel beneath her fingers was reassuring as she took the grip and eased the blade from the scabbard. Erinhue, Falathiel and herself moved in closer to each other, backs together forming a protective circle. It was a moment before the elf heard rather than saw Erinhue draw his own sword. None of them moved. They stood there the tension thick, watching, waiting for the first strike.

The companions did not have long to wait as one man came charging, yelling his at them his arrival. Telta did not take her eyes off of those edging closer to her. She listened for the inevitable sound of metal on metal as swords clashed. But there was no such sound. The man fell and lay sprawled upon the ground unconscious or dead. Yet Erinhue, for she knew now that had been the man's target, had not touched him. her puzzlement lasted only a few seconds until Erinhue called out to the one responsible...Raghnildur. He had returned and not a moment to soon she thought as she faced her own opponent. The one she faced was the one she had tripped in the tavern and whether or not he knew it was irrelevant now as he came at her his intent clearly on his face.

He came in sword held low a cruel smile on his face, perhaps thinking his target would be an easy kill since elf or not it was a female. The smile turned to one of surprise as Telta blocked his sword jerking his sword up and away leaving him exposed. Her fist came up to meet his jaw and he slumped to the ground shock still upon his face as he slipped into unconsciousness. No sooner had he fell then the next one was in there his knife slashing and jabbing in a grand display of showing off his skills. He was quick but she was quicker as she parried each strike. His frustration grew making him angry and careless. Telta's calm exterior only added to his anger as he tried to beat her down. His defeat was his own fault as he stepped back and stumbled over one of his own companions. His guard down as he tried to regain his balance, a well placed kick to the jaw and he fell back onto the ground where he remained unmoving. Then she came face to face with Black Hair.

He stood several feet away his blue eyes watching, analyzing , studying her moves. His cold hard gaze met hers and she could see the rage not just directed at her but at Erinhue as his eyes darted to the man beside her for one brief moment. But the Knight was engaged with his own battle and Telta felt him pull away. There was no choice as the fallen foe made it harder to stay where they were. Telta herself stepped over one of the bodies as did Falathiel who pulled away as she continued to fight.

Black Hair's lip curled in a sneer showing his contempt. He drew his sword as he approached. His movements slow and cautious. 'So the fat one does not work alone." He looked her over carefully not missing a thing. 'And such a fine piece of work to." He was baiting her trying to make her angry and she knew it. In one quick movement his sword came down at her and she met it with no problem. And he stuck again this time a little harder. Again she had no problem. His movements became faster and stronger. He was testing her and she rose to the task. The man laughed. He was enjoying himself. 'That's right dear. Fight me." His sneer vanished when her blade slipped passed his guard and sliced across his forearm. He was breathing heavily now. 'So you think you can beat me? How will you do against more than one." He gestured off to the side and two others joined him. She pulled back a couple of steps. 'Now let's see how you do."

A twinge in her side told her she had exerted herself more than she thought as the three men advanced. Telta readied herself. Her instincts told her the man on her right would strike first. The man did not prove her wrong as he struck and backed away and struck again each time moving out of her reach. When he tired the second friend of Black Hair did the same thing until he tired. Then Black hair took his turn.

'Falathiel." she heard as the bearded man's blade met hers. There was no time to help thinking that her elf friend was in trouble as Black hair now rested came at her with renewed vigour. His blade came down hard enough that sparks flew as metal grated against metal. If she had not parried his blow she would have been split in two. Falathiel joined her in the battle against the three taking care of the other two while Black Hair backed away as her friend drew close and whispered words of her problem. Telta nodded but Black Hair was not done. He came at her again his sword held high ready to swing at her. In his eagerness to end it he ran full force straight at her and at the last moment she side stepped him as he swung bringing the flat of her blade across his back with a loud 'thwack." He turned quickly black rage turning his face red and found himself impaled upon her sword. The look of unbelief never leaving his face as his life slowly drained from him. Regret at his death furrowed Telta's brow. She had not meant for his life to end that way. She had had no time to move before he had turned.

Arm down to try and cover where the blood had soaked through her vision focused ahead she waited for the next attacker.....

LŽan‘ and Rien decided to seek out the armoury, as neither proved to be very hungry. But first LŽan‘ insisted on going to the stables to check on Storm. She did not doubt that the Elves would take proper care of her stallion, but she nevertheless wished to see if everything was in order. Storm had been a gift from her brother DŽor, and LŽan‘ loved the horse all the more because of it. She did not want anything to happen to him.

As the two women made their way back from the stables and towards the armoury, they were met by Lord Elbren, coming down the passage from the other direction. He was fully dressed for travel and battle: a mail shirt over leather, heavy leather gauntlets, his Mithril Knight helmet held in the crook of his arm, boots, and Mithril Cloak. LŽan‘ and Rien exchanged a quick glance. They were surely leaving, and very soon by the looks of things. The Elf Lord greeted them, and said, "Let us to the armoury for you to choose an item as is our tradition. This item must be approved by myself and the Master of Arms. Then we shall depart forthwith. Are you ready?" They both nodded; LŽan‘'s eyes shining with eagerness.

Lord Elbren turned and walked quickly down the twisting corridors, LŽan‘ and Rien following hurriedly, until they reached the Mirkwood Guild House armoury. The guards allowed them entry, and LŽan‘ saw two people there, a woman and an old man. There was something vaguely familiar about the man... "Greetings," Lord Elbren said to them. "Lady Elenath, perhaps you will take my two new companions into the armoury and allow them to choose their gift?"

The Lady Elenath nodded, "Of course. Come with me," she said to Rien and LŽan‘. As they followed the Master of Arms, LŽan‘ glanced back and saw Lord Elbren engaged in a conversation with the old man. Where had she seen him before? But she forgot all about him in the next instant as they entered the armoury proper. LŽan‘ could not suppress a soft gasp of delight and wonder as she took in the sight of all the different weapons. Bows, arrows, knives, daggers, swords, crossbows, axes, spears, quarterstaffs... Each intricately and lovingly made, with a skill that surpassed anything LŽan‘ had seen in Rohan, or even in Imladris.

She started forward, a happy smile on her face at the thought being able to choose a weapon from such a treasure trove. Walking about, she inspected each weapon carefully. She had no need for a sword or a quarterstaff, as the ones she already had served her very well. She had no use for an axe, and her skill with the bow and arrows was, unfortunately, not yet very good (although she had been improving, thanks to Ohtar, who had been giving her lessons). So that left...

Suddenly her eyes fell on a gold scabbard worked in strange symbols. The symbols were what caught LŽan‘'s eye in the first place. They were neither Elvish nor Dwarvish. She had never seen anything like them. Curious, she bent down and picked it up, making a mental note to later ask Lady Elenath or Lord Elbren to tell her exactly what the symbols meant. She stared at the scabbard for a few moments, tracing over the symbols lightly with her fingers, and then slowly slid out the dagger it contained. It was absolutely beautiful. About a foot long, curving slightly near the end, and extremely deadly-looking. Fine gold wire wrapped the hilt, which was capped by a ruby as big as a man's thumbnail, and the quillons were golden-scaled serpents baring their fangs. LŽan‘ was enchanted. This was the weapon she wanted. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that this weapon was meant for her. It was almost like it had called to her to find it and take it for her own. She grinned at the thought and shook her head slightly at her foolish notions. Standing up, she turned to the Lady Elenath, who had so far remained silent and simply watched, and said, 'Lady Elenath, if you and Lord Elbren approve, then this is the weapon I choose to have."

Ri had followed Lady Elenath into the armoury, and her eyes had widened at the sight she beheld. There were bows, long swords, short swords, knives of several sizes, axes and crossbows. Nearly every kind of weapon. She was overjoyed at the sight and also pained. More memories. They would be her downfall if she didn't watch out. Sighing she inspected the weapons.

She ignored the ones with Elvish or Dwarvish writings on them; she held no love for either, and wouldn't bear a weapon that had Elvish runes unless it was one of her brother's, who had made both her twin swords and knives. She bit her lip as LŽan‘ brought her weapon. It was about a foot long, curving slightly near the end, and extremely deadly-looking. Fine gold wire wrapped the hilt, which was capped by a ruby as big as a man's thumbnail, and the quillons were golden-scaled serpents baring their fangs. It was indeed beautiful.

Luin would have loved that. He was always trying to dupilcate a weapon and fiddle with it. She sighed. Her brother was somewhere in Middle Earth. She was detirmined to find him, even if she died while trying. Sighing again, she went back to the weapons, and a few minutes later, she saw a sword, and knew it was the one.

It was about forty inches long, with a strongly curved blade, distinctive brass hilt which featured a short, thick quillion for protection and to help control the blade, and an unusual and elaborate dish shaped pommel. It was made of tempered steel. She liked it immedietly. She took it over to Lord Elbren and Lady Elenath.

"This is the weapon I would have, if you and Lady Elenath approve." she said quietly to Lord Elbren, holding the sword out, and waited for their response.

Ronin's face flushed at Galadhon's words, for the boy well knew of his affection for his mother, and the pain her parting had caused him. He stood thoughtfully for several minutes. What if Rosmarien's dreams were true? What if this Evil she saw would also come to harm his mother?

If Galadhon was right, than there was no time to waste. But, on the other hand, he knew that Elbren would be angry at them for leaving the safety of the Golden Wood in such dangerous times. What if they were caught? What if they could not reach Mirkwood safely? Ronin frowned, but he could see that Galadhon was in earnest, and he did not wish to be left behind while everyone else was being heroic. He would prove to them that he could be a warrior too! Maybe then Elbren would consider him ready to join the Mithril Knights!

His mother would see that he was strong, that he could fight like her. Maybe she would let him stay with her then, instead of always fearing for his safety.

With a solemn nod he swung up behind Galadhon on his horse. "Are you certain you know the way?" he asked.

"Of course."

"Your uncle will be angry with us."

"At least he'll know the truth." Galadhon looked over his shoulder at Ronin. "Do you have a weapon?"

"I always carry my short sword."

"Good. And I brought two of my bows, so you can use one of them if we run into trouble. Remember what I taught you about using them," Galadhon said.

"I remember. Now let's go before someone finds us....

Elbren made his way up the many winding corridors, the miraculous underground Kingdom of Thranduil's Caves, his mind awhirl with many pressing matters. These last few months were heavy upon Elbren's heart and mind; each time that they found a new clue to the mysteries before them, yet another riddle would emerge. It was daunting, to say the least; maddening at its worst.

I am weary, Elbren thought, and yet, the love that I have for Middle Earth never wanes. I am not yet ready to sail to the West....and may not ever be.

He turned another corner, knowing that he was near the city chamber that led to the main gate and river, as the number of Elven folk had increased dramatically. Compared to the relatively isolated set of caves that had been given to the Mithril Knights, the city chambers of Thranduil's Caves were busy indeed. They were all Eldar, Elbren noted as the made his way through the market, even pausing to buy a few supplies that he quickly tucked into his leather pack which hung from his right shoulder. Thranduil was still very suspicious of any non Elven folk, and even in this 4th Age of Man, the Halls of Thranduil very rarely saw any outsiders roaming at will. In truth, the only non Elven folk admitted without question were those of the Mithril Knights Warrior's Guild.

As Elbren approached the main gate, he nodded to the guards, who began to raise the metal portcullis. There was absolutely no sound as the metal retreated into the carved stone overhead, finally completely disappearing in an almost eerie vanishing act.

"Thranduil has ordered the gate to be lowered?" Elbren asked as he paused at the gate.

"Yes, Lord Elbren, all gates are now lowered and have been since the Star of Earendil first disappeared," the guard replied.

"Lord Elbren!" a familiar voice called.

Elbren turned to see Legolas, the son of Thranduil, trotting towards him and waving.

"Are you leaving so soon?" Legolas asked, frowning.

Elbren nodded solemnly, "No time to waste, Legolas. The Galadrim army will be marching to the North, with the remaining Mithril Knights, in just a few days. I will rendezvous with you at the Southern defense line of the Red Hammer Dwarves. I am sending for aid to my people in Southern Mirkwood, and I am going in search of more aid even now."

"More aid?" Legolas asked.

"There are others who will suffer if the Red Hammer continues their campaign," Elbren replied, "I must go to them and urge them to join us."

Legolas's eyes narrowed, "Join us? Who is it that you are going to see?"

"I am going to see Grimbeorn."

"Ah!" Legolas grinned, "indeed, they would be a mighty ally."

"And they are five or six days' hard ride, so I have no time to waste if I am to make my rendezvous," Elbren paused for a moment, "Legolas, we will break the southern line and then I and the other Knights MUST make it to the Lonely Mountain by Durin's Day."

"Why Durin's Day?"

"We want to get supplies to the Dwarven folk through the secret door that Bilbo used and it only opens on Durin's Day," Elbren said.

"Yes, but it also only opens with the key," Legolas pointed out.

Elbren pursed his lips in thought, "True...."

"So," Legolas smiled, "we shall get you a key."

"Oh?"

"Yes, leave that to me. I will meet you at the Lonely Mountain on Durin's Day, Elbren, namarie!"

************************************************************

Elbren walked into the stables and found Erelas saddled and eager to travel. Securing his leather bags onto the mighty horse, he then led Erelas out into the sunshine, which nearly blinded them both. Stumbling along for a moment, they quickly found Leane, Riencuran, Tallain, Alandriel, and Marius waiting for them nearby.

"Greetings everyone," Elbren said, "Have you all been introduced? If not, allow me to present Leane, a new Knight in Training; Riencuran, also a new Knight in Training. Tallain is riding with us both as a sworn ally and friend of the Guild and as a Knight in Training. Marius is my apprentice, though he is a very capable warrior and shall perform all duties of that sort on this mission. Alandriel is an Adept of the Order and is coming along to add her skill to the success of our purpose. Is everyone prepared to ride?"

Nods and affirmatives were given so Elbren swung up into his saddle followed by the others in the party.

"We shall take the Forest Path West until we reach the Forest Gate," Elbren explained, "and then we turn South into the Vales of Anduin. Tallain and Alandriel, I want you to ride 'point' today....Marius, you take the rearguard. Leane and Ri, you take what we call the Sun and Moon positions."

Elbren gestured to Tallain and Alandriel, who both rode forward of the group, about five horselengths away, but keeping their horses no farther apart than ten or so feet. Marius nodded and wheeled his mount back around and trotted to an equally distant position behind the group. Elbren then rode to his left and motioned for Ri to ride over.

"This is the Sun position," Elbren said, "it is your job, if we are attacked, to close in and defend this side of the circle that we shall form."

Elbren then rode to the opposite position and called for Leane, "This is the Moon position. Like Ri, you are to defend this position from enemies and pull in to form the circle."

The Guild Master then rode to the center of the group and pulled Erelas to a halt, surveying the formation with a scrupulous eye.

"I will pull back to join Marius in the event of an attack," he said, seeming to be satisfied, "if an enemy is spotted but we are not yet seen, then the word to speak is 'cover'.....if an enemy is seen and is attacking, the word to use is 'circle!'. Pull in close, draw your weapon, and stay tight. This keeps your horses from becoming vulnerable to hamstringing as well as allowing us to let the enemy come to us. Should we ever need to regroup, you will hear the word 'circle' again, or 'break' if we are to break the defense. Understood? Good."

Elbren paused a moment, and then suddenly, shouted, "CIRCLE!"

************************************************************

Galadhon and Ronin made their way quickly to the to a little used path that led tthrough one of the thickest parts of Lothlorien. It was Galadhon's intent to make the Anduin River well North of the Anduin Guard's series of flets, and then continue North on the West side of the Great River until they came to the Forest Gate itself to Mirkwood.

"You know," Ronin said, sounding dangerously full of excitement and adrenaline, "it was somewhere out here, I think, where Prince Marius found the wolf who changed into a woman."

"What?!" Galadhon peered back at his friend, "where did you hear that?"

"I heard it a few days ago near the guard tower at the Great Tree," Ronin replied, eyes gleaming.

"You're making that up."

"Hardly," Ronin smiled.

"Well," Galadhon was not going to let Ronin spook him, "this is also where the trees attacked the orcs during the War of the Ring."

"Trees?"Now it was Ronin's turn to be skeptical. "Attacking orcs? This isn't Fangorn, Galadhon."

"No, but it is the Golden Wood and it can be perilous," Galadhon grinned, "some of the Elves who saw the trees awaken and what they did to the orcs in their anger have never, ever spoken a word since that moment."

"What do you mean, 'not spoken a word'?"

"Carnimiriel says that their minds are so twisted now that they cannot find their voice to speak."

Something in the words, or perhaps in the slow, methodical way that he had spoken them, struck a chord within both of the young runaways. Suddenly the forest seemed very close indeed and every creak of a branch or whisper of a leaf made them jump.

"She told you that?"! Ronin finally asked.

"No," Galadhon had to confess, "I overheard her talking once with my Uncle Elbren about it. They were both in the wood when it happened."

"Well," Ronin looked around, "I suppose that since we're not Orcs, we don't have anything to worry about."

"No, probably not," Galadhon breathed a sigh of relief.

"So what are these dreams that Rosmarien has been having?"

"Weird ones...I mean she has always had weird dreams, but now she's dreaming about things that are happening," Galadhon explained, his brows drawing together in thought, "I trust her feelings and visions. I think that she has the Sight."

"What's the 'Sight'?"

"Something within Elven blood...some Elven blood, anyway. The Numenoreans also possess some of this gift," Galadhon was suddenly sounding boastful as his studies with his tutors began to roll off of his tongue, "Glorfindel has it, as does Galadriel, and Elrond, too. It allows you to sometimes....know....things. Carnimiriel has it, and I think Rosmarien has it."

"And do you have it?" Ronin's question was a challenge almost.

Galadhon, surprisingly, sighed and shook his head, "No, I do not think so, and I am rather glad of it."

"Why is that?"

"I do not think that I...." Galadhon pulled gently on the reins and stopped the horse, "what is that?"

"What? Oh...."

Just ahead, within the trees, there were shadows moving....

As the small group prepared to break journey, having chosen to travel at night and sleep in daylight hours, Jiyadan could not help but again notice the piercing and suspicious gaze of their guide. They were four days out of the Elven-King's hall, and throughout their journey the Elf who accompanied them made little effort to hide either his distrust or his distain of the Easterling.

Rho tended the horses as Jiyadan built a small fire over which to cook, the bright rays of dawn hiding the small amount of light smoke it gave off. The Elf, whose name he had learned to be Gilaelin, fingered his dagger lightly as he looked on, lifting not a finger in the preparations and sipping casually from his skin. Jiyadan felt irritated to speech at last.

"Your feelings towards Easterlings are of no concern to me, nor do I hold you a fault for them; but your lack of courtesy to the Lady Rholarowyn and your refusal to do aught but the most vital of tasks to sustain yourself is wearing thin upon me. Surely your conscience can not object to at least playing a part of this company so long as you guide us by helping with the necessary daily needs."

"I guide you by orders of my King, but I will do naught else for your benefit..." Gilaelin began but Jiyadan cut him off sharply.

"Then do it for Rholarowyn!" he shouted angrily, not noticing Rho who had come up beside him and now put her hand on his arm.

"Jiy, it's alright; the horses are done and you know I don't mind," she said softly, hoping to delay, if not prevent entirely, these two from engaging in more than a battle of words.

Without a word, the Easterling turned away and went to fetch the bedrolls and some rations. Gilaelin watched him with a flash of anger before he turned to Rho. "You would do wise, Lady, to sleep with one eye open as you journey with that one. Once I am no longer guiding you, there is nothing to prevent his knife from finding itself in your throat."

---------------

Jiyadan leaned against Nothea for a few moments, allowing the anger to pass. It was not on account of the hatred he had to endure, for he was used to that - but to turn that anger into even the slightest discourtesy towards Rho was unconscionable. She did not deserve to bear the brunt of the prejudice over his blood and he found himself questioning whether he should have come at all.

"Perhaps we should have stayed in Dorwinion, my friend," he said softly as he stroked Nothea's neck. "I do not desire for Rho to suffer on my account." He stared into the trees at nothing for a while until his need for sleep at last pulled at him and he finished his task and returned to the small camp.

With his bedroll under one arm and Rho's under the other, the food dangling from his hands, he had to admit: despite his dislike of their guide, it was invaluable to have a companion who was not in need of sleep as they were, for his eyes and ears were the perfect watch. It chaffed him that they were dependant upon so arrogant a soul, however. 'Three more days,' he reminded himself. 'Only three more days... two if we are lucky.'

Tallain felt the wind in his hair once again as he sat the steady swing of Vento's easy gait. Riding point with Alandriel beside him, he remained alert, trying to focus on his surroundings and the road ahead, especially since Lord Elbren had called a CIRCLE to those accompanying him earlier on making sure each and everyone knew what their role in the group was.

Tallain could feel 2 things worrying at his concentration " one was one of the companions he had just been introduced to " Riencuran. She seemed strangely familiar, even though his first reaction had been that he did not know her and had never seen her before, but his instincts were telling him otherwise, and each time he sought to try and recall why she appeared familiar to him, the thought seemed to slide away, as though being chased. He frowned, trying to make a mental note to talk to his 'mentor' about this later on.

Glancing at the flame haired ranger riding in deep thought beside him, he was struck again by how familiar she seemed to him as well " as though there were traits in her character and in her attitude that struck a chord deep inside him " the Easterling shook his head .. these were strange times and the lack of sleep was probably beginning to take its toll on his memories and his judgement.

As they rode along, mostly in silence, scanning their surroundings for possible dangers, he felt the bump of his quiver and bow on his back, the unfamiliar length resting lower than his normal weapon had ". And then he recalled his trip to the armoury once his summons to Lord Elbren had been received in the Guild House, not so long ago that morning.

Following the servant, he had been informed he was to proceed to the armoury, where he should choose a weapon. As Tallain followed the elf through unfamiliar corridors, he wondered how this would happen and felt a deep honour that Elbren should be willing to allow one of his heritage inside the Knights' Armoury.

At the impressive door, wrought in elven design and beauty, he was met by the one who had been Alandriel's mentor " Lady Elenath " who although looking at him slightly askance, nevertheless showed him courtesy and invited him to enter the armoury and select a weapon " one to suit him, and to be carried and used in the Name of the Mithril Knights and for their honour.

Awed, the Easterling followed her inside the darkened room, flickering lights outlined across the walls added to the sense of majesty that pervaded the chamber. All around him Tallain could see weapons of every sort, shape and size, as well as armour, shields, vambraces " in fact everything any seasoned warrior should ever want.

As he made his way through the room, stopping to admire a particularly beautiful or impressive item, he was suddenly aware of a tall, curved longbow standing in the far end of the room. Walking towards it as though drawn by a magnet, the Easterling paused in front of it, then reached his fingers out and grasped the moulding " it fitted as though it had been made for his hand. He hefted it, feeling the difference in weight and the longer reach of its curved arc. Then sighting through the line of shot, he drew back the seemingly perfect string, his fingers cupped around, as though an arrow had been fitted to it. As he let the string slowly down, it seemed to sing, and the elven Arms Master Elenath looked sharply at him. Tallain almost dropped the bow in amazement as small lights seemed to dance in front of his eyes, but they had not come from the bow itself, but from something within his mind !

He picked the bow up determinedly, and found beside it a quiver of arrows, exquisitely fletched in black and green, the colours of the forest " Tallain smiled, used as he was to his own tan and grey colours, but happy nevertheless to be carrying those of his companions.

The quiver was etched with strange runic markings, swirling in and about each other, in dark ebony upon the leather. A wooden inlay around the top of the quiver matched the bow and he knew that they belonged together.

Turning to the Lady he bowed and said 'My lady Elenath, if you are in agreement, I would be honoured to carry this weapon in the honour of the Knights to whom I have pledged my sword and my skills." She nodded quietly, impressed in spite of her misgivings by his honesty and fervour.

Tallain knew as they rode together that he would need to investigate the bow again and he would require practice with his new weapon, given its differences to the one he was familiar with, he was also curious as to the nature of the lights he had 'seen' and hoped that with Alandriel close and assisting him, he could get to the bottom of that and the mystery of Riencuran.

'Can you make it out?" Ronin whispered, aware of the advantage Galadhon had with his elvish sight.

'There are too many shadows. But, they look sort of like'."

'Animals," Ronin finished for him in a low voice. Both boys felt their hearts sink. The movements under the trees definitely had an animal-look, and they remembered that wolves had been seen in the woods as of late.

'What should we do?"

'The wind is with us for now. That's why they haven't sensed us," Galadhon replied in a sick voice.

'Can we go around them?" Ronin asked.

'There may be more'."

'If we ride hard, maybe they won't be able to catch us. You said your horse was fast." Ronin pressed.

Galadhon's eyes were fixed on the shadowy figures, and he knew it was only a matter of time until they saw them. However, his heart was stirred by sudden heroic thoughts, and he almost welcomed the idea of fighting valiantly against a host of savage wolves. In his innocence he could not yet conceive of the cost of such a battle. 'We can't turn around now, so we'll have to go around them. If they catch wind of us, we could fight'"

'Fight? Don't you see how many there are?" Ronin said incredulously. 'We won't stand much of a chance. Our best course is to outride them, or go back."

'We can't go back," Galadhon replied fiercely. 'We have to get to Mirkwood. We have to warn my uncle. Even if we die trying!"

The shadows of the late autumn day fell fast upon the Great Forest Road of Mirkwood. The company had met few travelers upon the road that first day and even fewer the next. Elbren noted the signs of passing, though, of a great many within the last fortnight.

"Refugees fleeing the North," Elbren said to Marius' unspoken question as they paused on that second afternoon.

"Why do they not travel to Thranduil's Halls?"" Marius asked, "it is closer, yes?"

"It is," Elbren nodded, "but even now, Marius, in the Age of Man, old feuds still linger. Thranduil's Halls are not open to all, and some wounds have yet to heal. The Battle of the Five Armies has not been forgotten in these lands, though it is probably just a legend in yours."

"I have heard of it," Marius said stubbornly, "though...I admit it has always seemed very far away."

"The lust for the Arkenstone is still a source of bitterness between the Elves of Mirkwood, the Men of Esgaroth, and the Dwarves of Erebor," Elbren sighed.

Where are you, Dirk? Elbren's thoughts wandered to the young Knight...have you reached the Lonely Mountain and shown the shards of the Arkenstone to the King Under the Mountain? Will he welcome the Mithril Knights or will he call us breaker of oaths?

"And so the refugees flee to the Great River...and then where?" Marius gestured to the South.

"Some will perhaps make it as far as the Gap of Rohan, some will stop on the river and perhaps attempt to start a small community, even if it is only for the winter," Elbren grimaced, "for winter is coming and I fear it will be a fierce one."

"What of us, Lord Elbren?" the Rohirric Prince shook his head, "why do we head away from Esgaroth?"

"Because we go to seek the aid of what could be a very strong ally," Elbren replied.

"Might I ask who that is?"

"Yes, you may," Elbren chuckled, "his name is Grimbeorn. He is a....Man and a leader of a Tribe of Men who have no love for those who burn and pillage. If I can convince them to join us with our attempt to break the Southern line of the Red Hammer, I feel certain that we will succeed and then the Beornlings can return to their lands and simply keep up their usual patrols."

"Beornlings?" Marius blinked, "The...Shape Shifters?"

Elbren nodded, "Exactly."

******************************

That evening at camp, Elbren took the first watch with Tallain as the others rolled themselves in their blankets and began to fall asleep. The fire burned low with few flames, but with many glowing and almost white hot coals. Elbren and Tallain both sat near the embers, their cloaks drawn close against the evening chill. The moon overhead was waxing, and to the North, the Sickle, the Valacirca, Sickle of the Valar, was just becoming visible over the canopy of trees.

"You know," Elbren said quietly, "you never asked me what it is what I wanted from you as my favour."

Tallain shook his head slighty, "M'lord?"

"The first night that we met and you pledged yourself to allying with the Guild," Elbren reminded him, "I told you that I would have a favor later on to ask of you. A boon."

"Ah, yes," Tallain smiled, "I do remember."

"Well," Elbren began, "I know many tongues of Middle Earth, though some I can read much better than speak, but your language, I do not know at all. If you would teach it to me, I would be much obliged. Perhaps, if you wish, I can even teach you some of the Elvish that is spoken in my realm of Lothlorien."

Tallain paused in his movements, either too surprised to speak or unable to find a proper response.

"Oh dear," Elbren said, "if I have offended you in some way by making this request, I apologise. I admit, I am not overly familiar with the Customs of your people, Tallain."

When the Easterling still did not respond, Elbren kicked one of the remaining logs on the fire just enough to allow it to fall and break into several glowing coals.

Elbren cocked his head sideways and looked at the fire quizzically, "You can almost make out faces in the coals...and they sort of move--"

"Don't move," Tallain said firmly.

"Wha--"

"DONT move, M'lord," Tallain was frozen.

"What is it?" Elbren tried not to breathe.

"I thought they were just shadows until a moment ago....I do believe, Lord Elbren, that they are spiders lowering themselves from the trees..."

***************************************

Galadhon gently nudged his horse with slight pressure from his knees and attempted to stay upwind of the wolves while avoiding them. It seemed to work, for after awhile, it seemed, the shadows and movement finally ceased.

They soon heard the roar of the Great River and when they saw the twinkling lights of Elven lanterns in the distance, Galadhon knew that he had not gone far enough North and that they had arrived at the Galadrim Anduin Guard flets.

"What are those?" Ronin whispered.

"We're too far to the south," Galadhon sighed, "we need to turn North and stay North until we reach the Gladden River. There's a settlement there of Elves..mostly...but some Men, too, I think. We can rest and eat."

"Won't we be recognised? You think word will be out yet about us being gone?" Ronin sounded skeptical.

Galadhon hadn't really thought of that and so he shrugged in answer.

"I think we'd better stick to the forests and away from settlements, Galadhon, or we'll find ourselves back in Caras Galadhon with a very angry Lady Carnimiriel to contend with!!"

"Well," Galadhon nodded his head, feeling the sense of adventure again, without the tinge of fear that the wolves had brought, "perhaps then we shall just remain out of sight. Between the two of us, we should be able to hide our trail well enough!"

"And how long to Mirkwood? Do you have enough food?" Ronin began to remember that he had not yet eaten dinner.

"I brought enough lembas and even some bitter beer to keep up our spirits," Galadhon smiled, "and we have our bows. We can always take fresh meat."

"Yea," Ronin's eyes grew wide.

We can always take fresh meat...how grownup that sounded! And they could! They were both skilled hunters, really only lacking the strength and size to make themselves formidable warriors. And the day was coming, they both knew, as did their parents and guardians, when they would indeed be mighty soldiers indeed.

Alas, though, that day had not arrived yet; and they were both too young and too eager to taste of war and battle. They traveled for three days avoiding any contact with anything other than three deer, five rabbits, what might have been the wolves again, and a pair of beavers. They did indeed take fresh meat from those three days: Ronin shot two coneys with his bow while Galadhon cheered his prowess. Ever they kept the River to the East and they covered the signs of their passing with what skills they possessed between them.

And their trail was covered well; for the trackers, guards, and others who heeded the Lady Carnimiriel's plea for aid, did not pick up the trail until the boys had been gone for nearly four days. They discovered that it wasn't just the attempts of Ronin and Galadhon alone that had kept the trail from them; it was with dismay that the Anduin Guards reported to Carnimiriel that the boys were being tracked by a pack of wolves as well. Not just any wolves, the Guard explained, these were very large wolves who seemed more intent upon tracking the boys than attacking and killing them...

Alandriel was glad to be on the road again. Not that the halls of the Mirkwood guild had not offered many splendours. But she loved forests above all and her recent mysterious 'meeting' with her mentor of old had brought back a longing for the woods she keenly felt. Yet try as she might to enjoy the ride at the head of their column she could not bring herself to relax.

Tallain's close proximity to her constantly reminded her of the task she had been charged with. There was so little she knew about him'there was so much to do. But how.. and when? Responsibility weighed heavily on her mind and so she rode mostly in silence.

As evening drew near Lord Elbren ordered to make camp. Having taken care of her mount, Alandriel went in search for a small stream to replenish her water skin. Stepping silently over the mossy ground she was glad for some moments alone; just her and the soft night sounds of the deep woods. A soft gurgling soon alerted her to the presence of a small spring. Kneeling down, she dipped her hands into the clear and cool water and then brought them up to her face. As she lowered her hands, the light of the waxing moon made some stray droplets accumulating in the centre of her palm sparkle, like a crystal.

That was it! Why had she not thought of it before? The crystal! Just as it had helped her learn to focus and direct it would do the same for Tallain.

Almost hurriedly she filled her skin and returned to the camp. 'Yes! This will do nicely' she thought, as some time later she held the small stone in her palm, relieved that it had been amongst the many tightly wrapped satchels in her pack. A glance back revealed Tallain sitting next to Elbren by the fire. They were talking. Alandriel pocketed the stone. Not wanting to interrupt, she approached them from the opposite side when suddenly she heard Tallain's tense voice directed at the Guild-Master:

'Don't move!"

Alandriel froze in mid-step a few paces opposite the two, her gaze fixed on the Easterling.

"I thought they were just shadows until a moment ago....I do believe, Lord Elbren, that they are spiders lowering themselves from the trees..."

Spiders?! Alandriel glanced around wildly yet did not twitch a muscle. Was it a trick of moon-shadows or was it real? She felt her skin crawl and the hairs at the back of her neck stand up. Try as she might she could not make out any clear shapes in the semi-darkness. The only clear silhouettes she could discern were those of Rien, LŽan‘ and Marius, laying on the ground not far off, wrapped motionless in their blankets, apparently asleep.

Her gaze coming once more to rest on the faces of Elbren and Tallain, the ranger's hand ever so slowly sought the hilt of the Eket at her side. The red jewels reflected angry sparks from the dying embers and she saw Elbren's eyes narrow.

And then, suddenly, one of the Knight's in Training yelled out.

'Galadhon," Ronin's voice broke the stillness of the place where they had stopped to make camp for the night. The sky was cloudy, affording them no moonlight or starlight to guide them on their way. The elf boy had been loathe to stop, but after losing his way a few times, he was forced to do so. Thankfully he had the foresight to pack plenty of lembas, enough for both him and Ronin provided they did not take too long in reaching Mirkwood. They had spoken very little during their last day's ride, as if they were afraid their voices would attract the attention of their foes, even if though it had been four days since they had seen any sign of an enemy.

Now, however, with their stomachs full and drowsiness creeping at their eyes, Ronin became contemplative, a mood which often resulted in teasing from Rosmarien. 'Stop looking so serious," she would say with a laugh, 'Your whole face seems to melt into a frown. Even your eyes seem a shade darker than normal." He would try to frown more at her when she would say this, but it never worked for very long. He could not pretend anger in the smiling face of Rosmarien.

'Galadhon," Ronin said again, rolling onto his side and looking across the small fire at his friend. 'Do you often think about your father?"

Galadhon was silent for a moment and poked a twig into the dying embers. 'Yes. Though, sometimes it is hard to picture his face."

'I wish I could remember my father's face. I never saw him, not even when I was a baby. What was your father like, Galadhon?"

'My father was'.my father was very brave. He was a great warrior, and his enemies would quail before him. But he was also very kind." the boy replied quietly.

'I think my father was evil. My mother says she'll tell me more about him when I am older. That can only mean that he was very bad. When she thinks of him, I am frightened by the look that comes across her face," Ronin said in an awed voice.

'Well, the only men who lived in Mordor with your mother were bad men, so I guess that would be true," Galadhon said with a yawn, though he was secretly intrigued by Ronin's statement. In his head he listed all the terrible names he remembered about Mordor and wondered if one of them was his friend's father.

'What happened to your father?" Ronin asked hesitatingly.

'He was killed in a war that happened after the War of the Ring. Some of the Dark Lord's servants tried to regain power in Mordor, and my father and uncle Elbren, and many others rose up to stop them. I think that'." his voice lowered to a whisper when a low growl shook the pleasant mood of the camp. It seemed to come from the shadows around them, but it sounded distant, as if it were still a long way away. Both boys were immediately on their feet.

'What was that?" Ronin asked breathlessly.

'They've found us," Galadhon answered.

'It sounded further away. Maybe they're following our tracks," the other boy offered.

'Quick! Pack up our things! We need to get out of here!"

'But it's so dark! We'll lose our way again! How do we know where to go?" Ronin's voice was edged in fear.

'If we stay, they'll find us. We'll take our chances elsewhere. Keep your sword out. We may need it sooner than I thought'."

An Easterling!

LŽan‘ still could not get over it. An Easterling, here! And travelling with them. Once again a scowl appeared on LŽan‘'s face as she thought of this. Why would Lord Elbren allow an Easterling to accompany them? How could he be so forgiving? Did he not remember the devastation his kind had caused to the lands in the West? Her preoccupation with her hatred towards Easterlings nearly cost her. As Lord Elbren suddenly shouted 'CIRCLE!", LŽan‘ hesitated for all but ten seconds and then, blushing scarlet for letting her thoughts stray, hastened to take up her position. In a real battle your hesitation would have cost you your life, LŽan‘. And perhaps that of your companions. So get over your prejudice, now! This is not the time for this.

Lord Elbren had not berated her for her lapse in attention, but LŽan‘ was nevertheless still feeling deeply ashamed. She resolved never to let her feelings get in the way of doing what she needed to do on this journey. She sighed, shifting slightly in her saddle, and glanced around at her companions. Ri rode opposite her, looking grim and silent, the Easterling (Tallain, his name was) rode ahead with the flame-haired Ranger, Alandriel, both also silent. Lord Elbren and Prince Marius (LŽan‘ had been shocked to see him there... this was King ƒomer's son, after all) spoke occasionally in soft tones.

And so the first and much of the second day had passed, without anything happening. The group had passed a few travellers occasionally, and LŽan‘ wondered to see them, for they all seemed tired and worn and wore the expressions of people who had come to much grief and had fled from it. She wanted to ask Lord Elbren about it, and decided she would do so as soon as they stopped for the day. But LŽan‘ found she did not have to ask, as she overheard a conversation between the Lords Elbren and Marius. So the travellers they saw were refugees of the North? But what did they flee from? LŽan‘ moved a little closer to the two men, pretending she wanted to move her pack, hoping to hear more. And hear more she did, though she understood but a little of what was said. All she knew was that they travelled not to Esgaroth but to seek a strong ally against something called the red Hammer. What was that? So many questions, but who could she ask to enlighten her? Perhaps, she could ask the Ranger...

LŽan‘ blinked, and suddenly realised she had been standing with her pack in her hand, staring at nothing, for quite a while, and that both Lord Elbren and Marius had moved away. Shaking her head slightly, LŽan‘ quickly moved back towards where Storm was tethered. After grooming him and making sure he had enough food, she sound herself a comfortable spot near him and settled down for the night. Lord Elbren and Tallain took the first watch, and LŽan‘, who could not seem to fall asleep, found herself watching her surreptitiously from under her lashes. She was still suspicious of the Easterling, even though he had been quite polite to her on the two occasions he had ventured to speak to her. LŽan‘ had made herself answer him, but her words had come out stilted and stiff, and Tallain had taken the hint and left her alone after that. And LŽan‘ did not regret it at all; she would never allow herself to get friendly with an Easterling...

'DON'T move, M'Lord."

Tallain's voice, quiet though it was, cut across her thoughts and LŽan‘ propped herself up and looked quizzically at him, noting subconsciously that Alandriel was headed towards where Tallain and Lord Elbren sat. Why would he warn Lord Elbren about Alandriel? She was not a threat; she was a part of their group. Why...

'I thought they were just shadows until a moment ago... I do believe, Lord Elbren, that they are spiders lowering themselves from the trees..."

LŽan‘'s breath caught in her chest and her heart nearly stopped. Spiders?! She froze, trying to make herself stay calm. LŽan‘ had heard about the spiders of Mirkwood, and stories were not pleasant. She forced herself to resume breathing, and slowly began get up. As she had been taught, she formed a void in her mind and tried to empty out all her thoughts and simply focus. But just then, she felt the softest of touches on her right shoulder. She could not help it. The void wavered, and she screamed, and sprang up, automatically picking up her sword that lay near her, and whirling around, blindly lunged her sword at whatever had touched her.

As Raghnildur tensed his body for the stroke that would end his life, absolute rage and shame burned in his mind. He became a warrior long ago to erase the pain that plagued him since his father fell. The man had fallen in the battle in which he himself should have been fighting, if not for that cursed dart that had bound him to a bed for those long months. He had failed his father, and his father had paid for it with his life. Now he had failed his companions, to what cost he would not know. The arrow would pierce him within moments.

Suddenly his left elbow seared with pain. Why had the bowman shot him in the arm? Yet it was more of a burning sensation, similar to'the strings of a harp tinkled a few notes not unlike a scolding, and within seconds a horrible scream came from behind Raghnildur. Turning around as fast as he was able, he saw that the arrow bound for him had burst into flame, and reset its course for the bowman. It had not missed. Looking to his left, he saw Agarak floating in midair, and the light behind his ruby eyes flashed over to Raghnildur. Whispering an astonished 'Thank you," Raghnildur inclined his head toward the harp. A few notes escaped the harp once more, rather cocky and teasing this time, and the harp was gone.

Raghnildur turned back to the fight, still somewhat in shock that he was alive, his eyes met a gladsome sight. In fact, there was hardly a fight to be called such anymore. Master Erinhue, still laughing, had completely confounded his opponent with such masterful swordplay, and the unfortunate man he was fighting must have tried everything to get away from him. He now looked like he did not know whether to run, fight, or surrender, which merely served to give Erinhue more reason to laugh. Looking over to Falathiel and Telta, Raghnildur saw a wide circle of unconscious bodies about them. Falathiel was working quickly to erase any evidence of Telta's wound in the case more foes should arrive.

Raghnildur's pulse quickened at the next sight that met his eyes. One of the enemies that lay seemingly unconscious on the ground behind the two elves was very slowly pulling his dagger from his sheath. Nary a sound came from the metal blade, which was a testament to the man's stealth. Not even the two elves he was about to strike against heard a sound. As Raghnildur silently drew his own dagger, another twang from a bow sounded to his right, from the top of one of the buildings. This arrow, however, was aimed off to his side, where Erinhue was still making sport of the poor man who had chosen him. In a flash of mail and steel, Raghnildur's sword impaled the throat of the man across the street, and the arrow was hewn in two in mid-flight by his dagger.

Falathiel turned and saw the man pinned to the tree behind him by Raghnildur's sword, dagger clenched tightly in hand and understood immeditately what had nearly occurred. Looking at Raghnildur and seeing him without a weapon for he had used both sword and dagger, she quickly pulled his sword from its victim. In a motion more fluid than the man had seen she swung and let go of the sword, and less than a second later it stood in the dirt of the road, hilt only inches from his hand. He smiled, picked up his blade, and quickly set off behind the buildings to find the man who had nocked the arrow intended for his master.

Once again a fire burned inside as he pulled himself up onto the roof of the building the arrow had come from. A grim smile lit up his eyes and mouth. He would enjoy dispatching this one.

'You would do wise, Lady, to sleep with one eye open as you journey with that one. Once I am no longer guiding you, there is nothing to prevent his knife from finding itself in your throat." The elf said coldly.

The shieldmadien remained silent as her eyes followed Jiyadan over to where he stopped by his horse and she suddenly became aware of the extreme weariness trying to take over her body. Adjusting to the nighttime travel instead of the day was only part of the reason why.

'Gilaelin," Rho began as she turned around to face the elf not hiding the frustration in her voice. 'If Jiyadan's blade ever found reason to be held against my flesh I would give my neck to him willingly and not raise my sword, not even my hand to stop him."

'M'La'Rholarowyn, how can you say this?" The elf answered shocked. 'I know you've seen what his people can do, I know you've fought against them. They are the dogs of hell! No good can come from him or his kind'especially here, here in'"

'So the actions of some, even many, should be used to condemn them all?" Rho interrupted taking two steps towards the elf stopping only inches away from his chest.

Gilaelin stood his ground and looked down at Rho with an equal intensity. 'Lady Rholarowyn, it is who they are. I've seen the horrors you have seen and more, much more. No good comes from them."

'And what if I told you one of these 'dogs of hell' saved my life?"

Holding the shieldmaiden's fiery eyes with his Gilaelin answered with a slightly calmer tone. 'Of course one might save your life if there was something to gain from doing so. You are one with close ties with the Stewards House. I'm sure he knew there would be great reward if he was to save you or use the 'saving of your life' to gain something for himself."

The elven guide then placed his hand upon Rho's shoulder, as if trying to comfort her. 'Do not fool yourself Rholarowyn in thinking your life was spared by some Eastron honor. They have no honor."

Instantly Rho jerked her shoulder free from the elf's grasp and took a step back. His hand remained in the air for a moment, resting on nothing, until he finally lowered it to his side. Their eyes remained locked on each other until Rho heard the sounds of Jiyadan's footsteps approaching.

When she spoke, her reply was icy. Not even the warmth of the fire seemed to permeate the reality in which these two stood. 'You best go take your position now."

Gilaelin's head moved slightly to acknowledge her. Without uttering a word he glanced over towards Jiyadan with a confident, knowing look of disgust before he gave Rho a final look of warning, turned, and then walked away.

...and come they did as she stood side by side with Falathiel. But their numbers were dwindling and those that had witnessed the altercation soon lost interest in becoming one of those sprawled upon the ground for they had no doubts that they too would end up in an unconscious heap or worse as they watched the two men and the elves.

Telta stood sword ready but none came forth and as it dawned on her that the ones left were backing away she lowered her sword. Around them the unconscious bodies had formed a circle and she was amazed at the number. That so many would join in a fight over a card game made no sense. A momentary flash of regret passed over her face when she saw the lifeless body of Black Hair. But she let it go as Falathiel turned to her.

The streets became void of attackers and onlookers and Falathiel took advantage of the quiet to help her. Motioning her to move her arm from her side she revealed the blood soaked tunic which had spread to a point where her arm barely concealed the area. As her elf friend quickly cleansed the wound and redressed it once again Telta spoke. 'Thank you Fala. Your quick actions saved me some trouble. I was not aware that my wound had reopened."

'It was bound to happen my friend in the fight...and you are welcome. But it was Raghnildur who alerted me to your problem."

'Then I shall have to thank him too." She searched and found the man in question standing off by himself watching them his opponent lying at his feet. Telta gasped and looked down at her side as Fala tightly bound her wound with some clean bandages that the healers must have given her. 'Does it hurt much?" Telta shook her head. 'It is a little tender. I'll be fine. I'm just glad that we are not back in Mirkwood." she said the relief evident in her voice. A soft chuckle came from Falathiel as she caught Telta's meaning.

Erinhue appeared unharmed as he toyed with the man he was occupied with. His movements were relaxed as the man tried time and again to advance upon him. The man's skills were good but paled in comparison to Erinhue's and when the man realized this he tried to make good his escape. Their mentor knight prevented it. The elf watched as Erinhue easily parried blow after blow. The man became agitated and began backing up in hopes of escaping in another direction. But he was going precisely nowhere.

'There now if you do not strain it again it should heal in a couple of days." Teltas attention was drawn back to her present situation as Falathiel tucked away the remaining bandages and stood up. Telta wiped the drying blood from her sword as best she could. A momentary flash of regret passed over her face when she saw the lifeless body of Black Hair. But she let it go.

'I make no promises Fala. If circumstances..." Telta turned to see her friend had moved away and was in the process of tossing a sword in Raghnildur's direction. Her aim was excellent as it landed just inches from him. He picked it up and took off after one of the men who had attacked them Telta wagered. The two elves scanned the rest of the unconscious bodies and when none showed any signs of moving they carefully picked their way over to Erinhue. Neither had any intention of getting involved as the man had everything under control. They watched as the knight wore his opponent down until he finally knelt upon the ground, breathing heavily his sword laying useless a few feet from him. The man said nothing as he looked up at Erinhue but the hatred burning from behind his eyes was undeniable.

'Are you alright?" Telta directed her question at Erinhue.

'Telta, darlin', I'm as right as I can be seeing's how I'm left handed." Erinhue responded and then looked down at his winded opponent kneeling before him. 'And you, sir, I'm certain you will amend your opinion of my abilities now. You took in my apparent age and size and thought to take advantage. Let that be a lesson to ya."

The Knight laughed as he wiped his sword on the kneeling man's shoulder. The sword's protests wailed away to silence as Erinhue slid it back into the jet and silver scabbard strapped to his back. The berserker's denied rage was soothed to sleep by the faint hum of harp strings.

Erinhue looked up to see Raghnildur climbing down from the roof. Mentally he thanked Agarak for its assistance in that quarter, but did not feel the usual pulse of conceit the harp generally displayed in response to his gratitude. He looked at the young would be knight and smiled. It was natural for him to go after the one who so skillfully singled him out for a quick sharp death. In time he would learn to temper that with a sense of restraint and kill only when necessary.

Erinhue snorted at the thought. Who was he to speak about such things? Raghnildur was young and despite his consummate skills, he was not a warrior, not yet. He looked next to Telta. They were long friends and he knew her capabilities. He also knew of her desire to become a Mithril Knight and he was glad to be able to assist her in that effort.

His eye next fell upon Falathiel, who was doing what she could to care for Telta's reopened injury. He had recognized the steel within the flower at their first meeting and had always counted upon her support in all Bard's Guild ventures, but he was surprised to find her here. Not that it was so surprising.

In the residual chaos of the early Fourth Age many strange things had happened as he himself had witnessed. Most of the Eldar had taken to the sea, forsaking Middle Earth forever. Those that remained were making the adjustment to a new way of life. In light of that it made perfect sense to have so many joining with the Mirthril Knights to preserve what remained of the Old Codes and Old Alliances and protect Middle Earth from any re-emergence of the darkness.

Finally he looked back at the man before him. Reaching down, Erinhue grabbed the man by his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. The man did not resist. His associates lay sprawled all about them either unconscious or dead. Raghnildur had already begun to bind the arms of those who still drew breath.

'You, my friend, are going to go somewhere quiet and have a nice long chat. I'm sure a safety conscious fellow like you hears things, nice sharp mind up there, I bet, well I'm just positive that you have all sorts of juicy little secrets to share."

The man snarled back in the face of Erinhue's good cheer. 'Secrets are just that and you'll get none out of me."

Erinhue's smile was killer cold and did not reach into his storm gray eyes as he spoke in a lazy drawl. 'Now I was really hoping you would go and say something like that. You've just won yourself a sizzling opportunity. I'd like ta introduce ya to my harp."

Galadhon watched the approaching shadows with dismay; he and Ronin had sought refuge underneath an outcropping of rock, and had thought the wolves had lost their scent. But, the wolves had merely begun circling them and were now creeping in closer, their eyes becoming clearly visible in the darkness.

"What do we do?" Ronin whispered, his eyes wide with fear.

Galadhon shook his head irritably, "We have no choice, Ronin. They're going to attack us; we have to fight. Is your bow strung? Good, notch an arrow and place the others near your hip. Only shoot when you are sure you are going to--"

A sudden movement to their left prompted them to nimble silence. The two boys looked from the phantom in the dark back to each other. Ronin set his jaw and nodded.

"Right," he said simply and began to place arrows, in a neat row, point down, near where he knelt.

Galadhon watched his friend with a horrid realisation that this was no dream; his desire to find Elbren and warn him was going to get Ronin and himself killed. Carnimiriel would never forgive herself, he thought, and the Lady Tempest...what would she do without Ronin?

"Ronin," Galadhon said, "I'm...sorry that this is going to end like this."

"What?!" Ronin looked up in surprise, "Don't be thinking like that, Galadhon. I'm not going to become a wolf's supper tonight; or, if I do, they'll take me down after every arrow is spent from my quiver."

The Elven youth smiled grimly at his friend; Ronin had the heart of a warrior and the courage of a Mithril Knight.

"Well said," Galadhon began to string his own bow, "we will go down together, as brothers."

"As brothers," Ronin agreed.

The first wolf leaped at them from the side, but it went down with one of Ronin's arrows firmly in its throat. Two more came from the front; one fell to Galadhon's arrow, but the second arrow from Ronin went wild. The wolf landed upon Ronin's chest and immediately lunged for his throat amidst a cacophony of growls and evil utterances.

Galadhon drew his sword and stabbed, without thinking, into the wolf's back; it was the third blow that severed the wolf's spinal cord and caused him to collapse atop a very stunned, but otherwise unhurt, Ronin.

The boys had no time to speak or consult, for the wolves were now attacking in unison, charging and retreating, wearing down their prey for the final kill. Within minutes, Ronin and Galadhon were breathless and covered in sweat and sported several deep gashes upon their hands and arms.

It was when Ronin realised that he only had five arrows left that he first heard the growling. It was a different growl altogether; either the wolves had changed their warsong, or some new creature had come to take what they could from the spoils of the battle.

"WHAT is that?" Ronin asked, exasperated.

Galadhon cursed under his breath and notched another arrow, "Bear. That, my friend, is the growl of a bear. And not just one either. Just when I thought we might--"

The bears were the largest that Galadhon had ever seen; as for Ronin, he had not seen a bear, at least not like the ones before them now. Easily eight to nine feet tall, walking on two legs, and simply massive. The boys were certain that they were facing their deaths, whether by wolf or bear was yet to be seen.

Yet, that is not what happened. The bears rushed forward with fearsome roars and began to attack the wolves. The wolves quickly scattered when the first victim fell to the bear's razor sharp claws, yelping and howling with pain and anger.

Ronin and Galadhon braced themselves, "They will rip us apart with one swipe," Ronin observed coolly. "At least it will be quick."

The bears came closer to the boys, but instead of attacking, they sniffed the air and looked at them with curious eyes.

"What are they doing?" Galahdon asked to no one in particular.

The bears continued their surveillance of the youths, keeping them under the outcropping with growls and movements of warning. Once the wolves howled in the distance, but the bears simply roared in answer.

Ronin and Galadhon sat wide-eyed, close together, wondering why they had been, thus far, spared from death.

*******************

When the first sign of dawn entered the Eastern sky, Galadhon rubbed his tired eyes and said a quick prayer of thanks that they yet still lived. Looking out into the grey morning, he was speechless at what he saw.

"Ronin, look," Galadhon pointed.

For there before them was a group of men, tall and muscular, dressed in animal hides...

"Who are you?" Ronin blurted out as the men advanced towards them. The closest man laughed in a deep voice, not unkindly, and both boys immedietly felt a wave of relief wash over them.

"Who are we? I think a better question to ask is: Who are you?" he replied.

"We were on our way to Mirkwood when we were waylaid by those wolves," Galadhon spoke up with confidence.

"If you hadn't come around, I think they would have been the end of us," Ronin added solemnly.

"And why are two boys alone in a strange land at such a time as this? I didn't know that Lothlorien was so short of scouts that they had to use children," one of the other men observed in a gruff voice.

Galadhon was rather offended at the man's tone. "We had to get word to my uncle in Mirkwood. It's very important!"

"It must be, for you to throw your lives away so recklessly. The land is changing. It was foolish of you to try to break through to Mirkwood. It should not be attempted unless you have at least a dozen mighty men, not with the wolves and other foul beasts afoot."

"We had to try," Galadhon answered sullenly.

"Trying to be heros, little man?" one said, tossling Ronin's fair hair and smiling down at him. Ronin, unlike Galadhon, was fascinated with the strange people before him. They seemed so strong and confident, and they had scared the wolves away easily. He reached down and picked up his bow and held it out to them appeasingly.

"I was almost out of arrows. I think I'll need more to get to Mirkwood safely. Have you got any?"

"Mirkwood? You best put that thought out of your minds immedietly. You won't make it there, not on your own. You better turn around and return to Lothlorien. I'm certain your parents are worried about you," the deep throated man said with a warm laugh.

"My mother is in Mirkwood," Ronin replied.

"That's strange. You don't look like an elf."

"I'm not an elf! My mother is at the Guildhouse in Mirkwood!"

The men seemed very interested in that. "Guildhouse? You wouldn't be talking about the Mithril Knights, would you?"

"Aye, the Mithril Knights," Galadhon interjected. "We are carrying a message to their Guild leader."

"What kind of message?" the man said, leaning down and observing the boys with keen eyes.

Marius was still torn. His father's figure was still merged with the great one of the Eldar Lord before him, and this caused sparks of anger, though not as many as before. Resentment still ran through his blood, coursing through him with bitterness. Yet, he respected the leader of the Mithril Knights and knew better than to disobey him--that much had been bred into the boy who wanted to be a man.

How could Elbren have left the magnificent sword behind? The boy wondered, incredulous. His own father's sword! However, Marius thought again. Perhaps Elbren, without realizing, too felt some anger toward his father. But this was mere speculation and an attempt to find common ground with the elf.

Yet, despite his lack of understanding and the rankor still stirring in his heart, he faithfully followed his Master. Honor was high in his mind and to break from the one he was sent to apprentice would be dishonorable indeed. So, he found questions to ask Elbren; questions he believed that he knew the answer to already, but needed that contact, that break from his father's image that still covered the Lord like a diaphanous sheet.

"What of us, Lord Elbren?" the Rohirric Prince shook his head, "why do we head away from Esgaroth?"

"Because we go to seek the aid of what could be a very strong ally," Elbren replied.

"Might I ask who that is?"

"Yes, you may," Elbren chuckled, "his name is Grimbeorn. He is a....Man and a leader of a Tribe of Men who have no love for those who burn and pillage. If I can convince them to join us with our attempt to break the Southern line of the Red Hammer, I feel certain that we will succeed and then the Beornlings can return to their lands and simply keep up their usual patrols."

"Beornlings?" Marius blinked, recalling stories he had heard, trying not to blanch at the imagined imposing figures, "The...Shape Shifters?"

Elbren nodded, "Exactly."

The son of King Eomer tried to cover his discomfort, for it was discomfort and not fear--he was too young to understand true fear--and he followed his Lord's orders. Thrilled to be charged with holding the back, his heart filled with pride at the Lord's compliments in his introduction earlier, the boy proudly fulfilled his duty.

But eventually they came to rest and the boy was drowsy from the excitement of holding a position finally within the group. Lord Elbren was near though far enough away that Marius could not hear his soft voice, and the boy kept an ear out, just in case Elbren called to him to fight whatever unseen beasts might be lurking in the area. He imagined wargs, and perhaps the elusive Shape Shifters, sneaking into camp, surprising them all.

Suddenly, the air grew too still. The sounds of his company ceased and Marius awoke to an eerie scene, suddenly framed by the scream of the woman Leane.

Realizing at once what the enormous, hairy creatures intended, the impetuous youth lunged toward the nearest monster.

"Ahhhh!" Marius whooped and hollered as he sank Laikemuil, the elven blade forged at his birth, into the stiff hairy form. But more were coming, some noticing their downed comrade, enraged, ten eyes on each glowing a repulsive scarlet, prepared to ingest this runt of a human.

He caught a glance of the look on the Lord's face--a flitting emotion across the ancient face--one of disapproval. Marius realized he had moved too soon, and in doing so, was risking the lives of those with whom he travelled.

'But too late now,' Marius growled, slashing at a leg that began to tickle his ear.

Tallain barely breathed as he watched the huge arachnoids towering themselves from the branches around the group, his hands reached out, behind him, to where his new bow and quiver were propped up against his saddle. Behind him he sensed more of the creatures, their huge legs rustling and their many eyes unblinking in the flickering firelight. He also sensed Alandriel to his right, she was standing similarly still, but he could feel she was preparing an attack.

Suddenly a scream from one of the sleeping forms split the quiet of the night and chaos erupted all around them. Leane had struck out wildly at one of the spiders who had inadvertently brushed its long leg across her shoulders, as her sword struck home in the large beast's body, the others began to rear up on their hind legs, ready to strike out at the Mithril Knights and those in training. With a swift and smooth movement Tallain focused his mind on the closest adversary, behind him he could hear horses whinny and move about with increasing restlessness as they sensed the approach of the massive spiders. Reaching behind him, the Easterling shouldered his new bow and with a single smooth action sighted the closest spider, approaching with stronger motions as it sensed surprise had been lost " the chittering sounds all around them were unnerving, but Tallain focused, pulling the bow back to its full potential and feeling his gift surge in response, suddenly he was at one with the bow, only he and the target existed. Letting loose his first arrow he reached around and had placed the next arrow ready before he saw the beast topple over and moved slowly around to tackle the next attacker. Although he was focusing entirely on his target, his battle ready mind could sense Alandriel " the use of his empathic abilities in combat were the only way he had trained them, and she was like a bright beacon of power in the darkness surrounding them. She fought with skill and determination, felling the spiders as they got too close, but also moving towards the main group " her strange curved sword was as one with her arm and he could admire in a detached manner how she handled herself in combat. Tallain found the spiders hard to hit, the flickering firelight, combined with their natural ability for camouflage meant his concentration was constant and required total dedication to ensure that each arrow met its mark with devastation. He tried to ensure that the group was protected, but in the darkness this was a hard task as he was reluctant to fire too far into the shadows in case he hit one of his comrades. Turning he saw Alandriel combating a large grey spider whilst another sneaked up behind her. The Easterling trained his arrow and took the second attacker down before having reached too close, her quick glance in his direction showed that she appreciated his skill and she slowly moved further back towards him. Around them the sounds of battle continued, Tallain had managed to avoid close combat and the bow was almost a part of him, it was smooth and almost sang with every arrow fired. He dropped his arm as the attackers closed in, each one more ferocious and angry than before, and realised that he was going to have to use his sword, reluctantly placing the bow across his back, he reached down for his sword when Alandriel arrived behind him and placing herself at his back crouched in readiness, he smiled and together they defended each other, the spiders were aggressive but not too hard to kill once their weaknesses had been discovered ..

Soon the sounds of battle began to cease as the attackers realised the group was a little too hard to handle. The defenders wearily dropped their sword arms, checking for injuries " of which thankfully there were few. Tallain was grateful to this time have escaped with little more than a few scratches, but one of the others had been poisoned and Alandriel busied herself with a herbal cure. The Easterling was helped by Marius to recover several of the arrows, together with the assistance of a torch " but some were broken and he was saddened at the loss of such fine workmanship. Returning to the group he set about recovering and assessing any damage to their mounts.

'Hold still, I have to make a cut to drain some of the poison."

Ri nodded bravely and did not flinch when Alandriel pulled out her dagger from the remaining embers, now glowing red-hot. While it cooled, the Ranger's eyes sought Tallain. It had been his arrows that had found, unerringly, target after target. It had been him that had felled the massive spider sneaking up from behind while she had been hard pressed to evade the groping and spitting of another. They had fought together, back to back. His valour, his single minded determination, the way he had fought at her side brought a whole new level of recognition'. Yes! Why was it so hard to admit?....Appreciation.

The blade in her hand had cooled sufficiently when the Ranger fixed the young woman in front of her. Ri nodded once more and set her jaw in anticipation of renewed pain. Not once did she avert her eyes as Alandriel skilfully made small cross cuts above the punctures, where a spider had sunk its poisonous fangs into the soft flesh of her thigh. She let blood run freely for some time and then packed the wound with a mixture of herbs, wrapping it all tight with some clean bandages from her travel pack.

Ri looked pale and cold sweat pearled on her forehead yet the glimmer of determination in her eyes was not diminished. Moving her injured leg she found, that despite the throbbing she still had full control over it. 'The pain will soon subside," Alandriel reassured the Knight in Training. 'In a few days time, apart from a small scar, you will only have your memories of this event, and of those you can be proud. You fought bravely."

Quickly she repacked her supplies and, swinging the travel pack over her shoulder, headed towards the others, busy with seeing after their horses and possessions.

'Can she ride?" enquired Elbren.

Alandriel nodded: 'Yes my lord that she can, although it would do her good to rest a while."

'Then we shall ride to the edge of the forest and rest a few hours ere the sun rises; but then we must be off with all speed."

The group was soon ready and on its way. Elbren, being the most familiar with the forest paths, took the lead while Alandriel and Tallain brought up the rear. As they rode on at a steady trot, Alandriel steered her mount closer to Tallain. Groping in her tunic pocket she brought out her small crystal and handed it to Tallain.

'I saw how you fought. You used your gift."

Tallain cast her a sidelong glance but then went on examining the stone in his palm.

'This will help you develop your abilities'. it helped me to train mine'. long ago. Just as you did in battle, if you focus your will to become one with the stone, it will glow; the better your focus, the brighter the light." He looked at her somewhat nonplussed. 'I will show you, when we rest. It can do a lot more than just glow, " you can do a lot more than just focus and be 'at one'". but first things first." She gave him an encouraging nod and then urged her steed on, for, unwittingly, the distance between them and the group had increased. Just as she caught up, knowing that Tallain was immediately behind, they cleared the tree line.

Elbren gave orders for a short stop and soon everyone was settled, glad for one last respite before the long ride ahead. While the Trainees talked quietly amongst themselves, Tallain sat on a tree stump examining once more his new possession. 'Let him try for himself first," Alandriel vowed silently as sat down not far from him. 'When he's ready to ask questions, he will come."

Although she felt weary and saw that some of the group had wrapped themselves into their cloaks for a short sleep, she knew she would not be able to close her eyes. And so she retrieved her wet stone and oil rag from her travel pack and took to cleaning her Eket.

A bluish reflection from the blade in the soft light of the approaching dawn suddenly caught Elbren's attention. For a long while he watched the Ranger, absorbed in thought. Eventually, the Eldar took to his feet and walked over with measured steps, stopped and then came to a crouch beside her. Alandriel looked up and nodded, acknowledging his presence. She remained silent however as her hands continued to draw the cloth along the slightly curved blade.

"You took this from our armoury in Minas Tirith?" Elbren began, his eyes focussed searchingly on the weapon.

"Yes my lord," Alandriel answered without looking up, "... though it was the blade that seemed to do the choosing'..at the time."

Elbren watched her silently for a few moments and then said: "Do you know what kind of weapon this is?"

Stopping her administrations, Alandriel met his gaze and then shook her head: "No, not really. I was told it was an ancient Nœmenorean blade... Lady Elenath approved my taking it....but nothing further."

"May I?"

Alandriel hesitated, suddenly feeling reluctant to part with what had become her most prized possession. Elbren's outstretched hand never wavered, although he noted her disinclination to part with it even for what would be only a short amount of time. 'You don't trust him? Why?" she reprimanded herself silently and then swallowed, offering the hilt to the Eldar. Elbren, with a small smile, took it and slowly turned it in his hands. Many minutes passed in silence as he studied the masterfully crafted weapon.

"This was found by one of our order," he began almost haltingly at first, his tone soft as if coming from far away, his eyes set on the sword, 'on the banks of the river Entwade before the War of the Rings and brought to our armoury. King Elessar, after his coronation, came to visit our guild house. When I took him to tour the Mithril Knights armoury he seemed to recognize it, yet - interestingly - decreed for it to remain in our vaults'. until such a time as its rightful owner would be known. And so it remained there....until'. "The blade lay still in his hands as he fixed his gaze upon the Ranger: "".until you picket it up."

His words hung in the air. They seemed to echo in her mind. Alandriel's brow furrowed and she narrowed her eyes, fixing them on her Guild-Master, willing him to continue. Elbren slowly handed the sword back to the Ranger and took a long moment to search her eyes.

"Not only Isildur carried an Eket," he said, "but also all of his sons. Only one such sword though survived the disaster of the Gladden Fields: the one belonging to Valandil, the only son of Isildur to survive the catastrophe. I was there'"."

Painful memories seemed to cast a deep shadow over the Guild Master as he fell silent. Blinking, as if to banish the terrible recollections, he then continued:

'Like the shards of Narsil, the Eket was handed down through the generations'". to Arvedui. Before he departed on his doomed flight north he charged his sons with their care. The eldest, Aranarth, took the Shards while the younger son took the lesser heirloom, the Eket; for they saw the danger of keeping both in just one man's charge during those troubled times. We know " you know - what happened to the Shards of Narsil. Yet no-one had any idea what had happened to the Eket, for many probably thought it lost - until the day it mysteriously turned up... at such a strange location. This is what I know, how it came into our possession'" and now into yours."

It was Alandriel's turn to blink, stunned at the possible implication of Lord Elbren's words. After a long pause, she cleared her throat: "Do you mean to say ...?"

"I am not the one to know about your heritage, Alandriel, nor about your connections; yet I do know the Eket's. I find it very interesting that this particular sword should have such an affinity to you, don't you agree?"

Waves of alternating heat and cold coursed down the Rangers spine. Her hands, still holding the blade, almost trembled. She tightened her grip on the hilt until her knuckles turned white with the effort. And it happened yet again: the familiar feeling of power and pre-ordination rushed through her. She felt exhilarated and as the rush slowly ebbed away it left behind a knowing beyond words, beyond her grasp'. and a feeling of deep peace. That, however, was soon replaced by uncertainty. Her eyes met again those of Lord Elbren.

'If only I could know about my father, my lineage, they way you know " I feel ".. about this blade. All that was ever revealed to me clearly is that I was born in Esgaroth, and that only a few days ago " during the initiation. Yet I was found on the borders of Rohan as a young child """. She shook her head. Esgaroth, the Entwade, Rohan' where was the connection? Sighing she continued:

'Much was hinted at, during my years of study and training. However, to me, these have been nothing but riddles within riddles."

'Yet you were trained as a Ranger, taken up into their ranks?"

Alandriel nodded and at Lord Elbren's next question, her eyebrows knotted:

'Don't you find that'. unusual?" He added after seeing her puzzled expression: 'Well, Rangers usually only train or take in people of their own kind."

The truth of his words hit her like a lightening bolt. It had been there, right in her face, all these many years " yet she had not seen it?

'Who ever trained you knows'.. at the very least has some understanding, Alandriel; as to why they never told you'".? I'm sure they had their reasons. Maybe with all the recent events there will be a chance for you to find out soon."

The Eldar's encouraging smile was still fresh in her mind as Alandriel, alone again, pondered his words. Yet soon her expression lifted for the path she would have to take became clear in her mind. With a feeling of relief and a newfound sense of hope, she laid the Eket at her side. Her gaze was still on the scabbard, when suddenly a pair of soft leather boots came into focus. He had come!

Jiyadan remained silent when he returned, noting the concern on Rho's face but asking no questions. He stared into the flames that licked at the wood, eating a small meal before laying on his bedroll and finding sleep. The flames continued in his dreams; flames that had sealed the doom of a land he had never known.

As the dreams continued, he mumbled strange sounds and half-words in Eastron, an unnatural fever causing a sweat to form on his brow. Gilaelin ignored the Easterling; the Elf's only other desire was to send him to his death - as his kind had sent so many immortal lives to the halls of Mandos.

Morning turned to noon and beyond; and it seemed they had barely fallen asleep before Gilaelin woke them, nudging Rho with his boot and leaving her to wake her companion. Camp broke quickly and the three set a pace that Jiyadan hoped would bring them to the river by the morning after next, soon to rid themselves of their unwelcome but necessary guide.

Little was spoken between the three of them and silence prevailed for the next two days until the River was at last before them. Removing the packs and arms from their horses, Rho and Jiyadan both bade their mounts farewell after their own manner and somewhat unwillingly turned them over to the Elf to be returned to the Mirkwood Guildhouse as they would now continue on with the aid of the boats that were stowed by the river in sheltered locations.

The Mithril Knight and her trainee carried one of the light Elven boats to the river's edge, loading their gear and soon themselves into the boat. Jiyadan was impressed at both the grace and beauty of the craft and looked forward to this leg of the journey.

"I am not tired," Jiyadan said as he saw Rho's eyes getting heavier. "I will continue on for now but if you sleep then you can stand watch when we make shore for the night."

The Mithril Knight did not respond to Jiyadan's words as she continued to stare sideways into the clear bluish water that their elven boat was now gliding through. The unusual stillness of the river, this river, was taking her thoughts back to another time and place as she began to feel the presence of one who no longer walked the land of Middle Earth.

He let her remain in her thoughts for some time, not wishing to disturb whatever it was she dwelt upon, but he knew that without the benefit the Elf had indeed brought to them of needing no sleep, one of them must stand watches. Reluctantly he again spoke to his Mentor. "Rholarowyn?"

Silently she remained focused on the river for one more moment before reluctantly letting go of the cherished world in her thoughts.

"Jiyadan?" Rho whispered when she finally looked up and her eyes met his.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to disturb you, but we must compensate for the loss of our guide. I am not tired, and the fresh air off the river has strengthened me. I will continue us on in our course if you wish to now sleep."

"No...no...You are correct," She began pensively and then slowly knelt up to move some of the closer packs aside. When an small area was cleared, Rho then spread out her cloak and laid down on her back, her head towards the bow; the edges of the boat preventing the light from the early morning sun to fall directly upon her face.

Her eyes had been closed only a second when she opened them and looked back a Jiyadan. "If you grow weary and need a rest, please wake me."

He nodded, and so they continued on - her sleeping and he steering - until at last the long shadows of evening began to creep across the land and a chill wind blew slightly across them. Jiyadan pulled his cloak a little tighter around him and at last could no longer keep fighting the weariness that was overtaking him. Maneuvering to shore, he ran the prow aground, which woke Rho from her sleep.

Jiyadan let her finish waking as he pulled the boat further up onto the shore and took their packs up a short embankment to an area that looked hidden enough from direct sight but would still afford them a decent view of the surrounding area and across the river.

Returning to the boat he and Rho pulled it out of the water entirely and stowed it behind some underbrush, then walked up to their camp. "You will be alright?" Jiyadan questioned.

"Yes, I slept well."

He nodded and laid down, falling quickly into an untroubled and dreamless sleep.

LŽan‘ leaned on her sword, breathing hard. It was drenched with black blood, and LŽan‘'s mouth twisted in disgust as she looked at it. Bending down, she wiped the sword on the grass, and then made her way to where the others stood, near the edge of the campfire.

The spiders had been dispatched by them with some effort, but most of them had suffered nothing more serious than cuts and bruises. Except Ri. She had been poisoned, but Alandriel had made an herbal cure for her, so LŽan‘ was not too worried. She busied herself instead with cleaning her sword properly and getting ready to ride again; she was quite certain that Lord Elbren would not want them to remain there.

And she was right.

Soon they were on their way again, with Lord Elbren leading and Tallain and Alandriel bringing up the rear. LŽan‘ rode with the Prince and Ri. Since the Prince made her highly nervous, she found herself speaking mainly to Ri " whenever Ri felt inclined to speak; that is.

As they stopped to take a short rest, LŽan‘ noticed Ri was limping slightly. 'How are you feeling?" she asked Ri quietly. 'I will survive," she replied, smiling. Her voice was friendly, but her eyes forbade any more conversation. LŽan‘ smiled back rather sadly, and left to tend to Storm. She wished she didn't feel so alone.

After a while, she abandoned grooming Storm yet again; she had already done that twice that day. She picked up her pack and walked a little way away from the others, and sat down by an old beech. Wrapping herself up in her cloak, she leaned against the trunk, using her pack as a somewhat lumpy (and uncomfortable) pillow, and tried to get some sleep.

It didn't work.

After tossing and turning and trying to get comfortable for several minutes, LŽan‘ gave up. She sat up, her back against the tree trunk, and took out the dagger she had taken from the armoury. 'It is absolutely beautiful," thought LŽan‘ yet again, softly marvelling at the workmanship. It was unlike anything she had seen before. With nothing better to do, and sleep still eluding her, LŽan‘ began to play with the dagger. Tossing it in the air and catching it, or balancing the point of the blade on the tip of her finger, or twirling it around. She wondered idly where it had been forged and what sort of history it held, as she ran a finger down its slightly curving blade. She could hear Alandriel and Lord Elbren speaking quietly, but they were too far away for LŽan‘ to hear what they were saying. Not that she was trying to eavesdrop or anything.

After a while, she began to feel sleepy, and decided to get some rest while she could. Who knew when they would stop next? As she returned the dagger to its scabbard, she once again traced over the strange symbols worked onto it, wondering what they meant. She must ask Lord Elbren about that later. And about the Red Hammer. And the Shape Shifters. Thinking all these things, LŽan‘ finally drifted off to sleep.

On the fourth day since their departure from Thranduil's Halls, Elbren and his party reached the Forest Gate. The Anduin lingered in the distance, and the Mithril Knights found a substantial guard of Wood Elves keeping a close watch on the Eastern shore.

They did not pause for long; Elbren found several messages waiting for him, and he meant to send his own ere they departed the Forest Gate.

"Rest here for a while, we will depart soon," Elbren told the others, "we have made excellent time. With Elbereth's blessing, we will reach the Beornlings by sundown tomorrow."

With that, the Elven Lord sat down, drew his cloak around him, and began the authoring of his missives...

***********************************************

Galadhon stood firmly, "We must get to Mirkwood. My Uncle is Elbren, Lord of Lothlorien, and Guild Master for the Mithril Knights. I have urgent news for him that cannot be delayed."

The men murmured amongst themselves and some even seemed to recognise Elbren's name. Still, a few looked unconvinced.

"Who would trust such urgent news to two youths and have them travel such a great distance alone? Have you no escort?" asked the man who seemed to be the leader.

Ronin started to shake his head, but Galadhon quickly interjected, "Our escort was...slain."

Ronin's eyes grew wide and he looked quickly at Galadhon in wild surprise.

"Slain?" asked the man.

Galadhon drew himself up straight and proud, and tried to sound as much like an Elven Prince as he could, "I tell you, Sir, that my errand is urgent, and if you will not offer me your aid, then I must ask you to let me pass."

Some of the men gently laughed, which sounded strangely like low growls of amusement, while others frowned.

"If you are truly the kin of Lord Elbren, and both of you the children of Mithril Knights, then I cannot leave you to the fortunes of the wild," the man folded his massive arms across an even more massive chest and began to stroke his long, wild beard thoughtfully. "We will escort you to our home, it is on the way to Mirkwood. We can send word to your Uncle, if he is indeed in Mirkwood still, and he can advise on whether or not the road is safe for you to travel."

"But we MUST deliver our message!" Galadhon began to show anger at feeling so helpless.

"One would think that you'd be grateful that you weren't ripped to shreds and eaten alive by those wolves last night," said the man, narrowing his eyes.

"We ARE grateful," Ronin finally found his voice, "and we are also grateful for the offer of your escort. We accept, and we will send our message to Lord Elbren, if you will permit, with yours."

The man nodded, now looking at Ronin, though he could see the fury growing in Galadhon's eyes.

"I am known as Hrunting, and we are of the Beornlings. We will pledge to see you both safely to our home and to send your message to Lord Elbren in Mirkwood," the man stated, "and I wonder, if we should send a message now back to Lothlorien? About your...slain...escort?"

Galadhon started to protest, but Ronin nodded, "Please, to the Lady Carnimiriel. Would you tell her that we are well and being taken to your home where we will be safe?"

"We will," Hrunting nodded, and motioned to one of the members of his party, "Hrolf, my brother, will take this message to the Anduin Guards."

"We thank you," Ronin bowed his head in thanks.

"And you two are?" Hrunting asked. "Unless that's a secret, too?"

"I am Ronin, son of the Lady Tempest, who is indeed a Mithril Knight," Ronin answered proudly, thinking of how marvelously it rolled off of his tongue.

"I am Galadhon, nephew to Lord Elbren and Lady Carnimiriel of Lothlorien," Galadhon said quietly, suddenly ashamed when he realised how worried his aunt must be.

"Then indeed the Lady will be glad of Hrolf's report," Hrunting replied, "so he shall not delay in his errand. Let us make ready to depart, for the journey is still long. I think we shall keep moving for as long as we can without rest. The forests are crawling with shadows...we should delay no longer."

Tallain was stunned when the red-haired Ranger offered him the crystal " although he sensed that they had grown closer over the last few days, he had not expected such a gesture from her, and was speechless for a while before murmuring his thanks. He could sense she dearly wanted to assist him in using the focus then and there, but their pace was fast and he also knew in his heart that he himself needed to experiment, especially with this new-found hope of one day controlling and directing the gift that for so long had been a curse for him.

As they rode hard that day, Tallain's hand closed around the crystal several times, he was unsure of what he was expecting it to do, but there was no sudden blazing of feeling or intensity of senses, and his sense of humour made the Easterling smile wryly as he acknowledged that it was likely that he would need to work at using this 'focus' rather than expecting answers and solutions to drop from the sky.

As they rode, there was little talk in the group, he sensed that the elven Knight in Training " Riencuran " was withdrawn and her feelings were angry and hard. Tallain frowned, there was something about her that seemed to tug at his senses, at his memory, he was sure that he had seen her before. She struck a chord deep within him but whenever he approached the feelings that arose, they seemed to melt away like mist before sunshine. His frown deepened as the question worried at him "

As he delved deeper into this mystery, he felt his hand tightening around the crystal, involuntarily, as it rested in his pocket. Vento snorted and tossed his head in response to his rider's preoccupation, and Tallain was forced to concentrate on his riding as they left the path briefly to then stop a little further on for the night.

As they readied the camp, the Easterling helped LŽan‘, the young but talented swordswoman, to light a fire and gather food together for their small meal. Rien stayed to one side, her dark eyes glowering at him, almost challenging. Tallain shook his head, clearing it and once again toyed with the crystal " he could see Elbren and Alandriel to one side, talking together, and he slowly began to relax, to lose himself in the niggling surety that he knew this elf, and drifting as he had when Alandriel herself had shared her power with him.

Suddenly, as his mind wandered down memory and misted remembrances, a light flared and he felt the crystal go warm as it rolled in his fingers. A sharp pain lanced through his head, a memory of fighting, a voice screaming his name and a sharp blow to his head. Then it had gone once more. Tallain felt his eyes open wide, he had made an involuntary sound of pain which had brought attention from the other knights in training, and he quickly assured them that he was well. Rising, he made his way to his horse, running his fingers through Vento's strong mane and feeling the shock of a memory he did not know he had. Sometime later, he approached Alandriel, coming to a stop before her.

Tallain sensed that her mind was far away, in turmoil much as his was, but that she welcomed his presence and was almost glad of the distraction.

Crouching down before her, the Easterling looked into the strong green eyes and said 'Something happened " I used the crystal without knowing I was using it, and something " surfaced, something I have no awareness of knowing." Her expression turned from hope to worry as he recounted his hurried recollection, completing his story with a vehement assurance following her questioning, that he had no memory either of having met Rien before, or of the fight that he had suddenly recalled.

'Perhaps someone has imposed a strong memory impediment upon you "" she mused, her face thoughtful. The Easterling sat down .. his face similarly pondering .. 'It is .. possible .. I supposed given that I have no memory of it " I seem to have no gaps though, although I admit that my nomadic lifestyle would have managed to fill in any purported gaps in my life with possible alternatives. "

As the two talked, Lord Elbren interrupted them, asking for one to keep watch and gently reminding them of the need for speed in the coming days and the likely lack of rest. Tallain smiled and acceded to the Lord's request, then took the first watch. He foresaw that the days to come would bring much change and little rest for the group as they travelled, especially with the need that Alandriel had to help him gain control over his gift.

The following days were indeed full and the group barely stopped to rest for little more than a few hours before taking to the road once again. Pace allowing, Alandriel helped Tallain use the crystal to focus, but apart from a general and growing awareness of his power and the uses to which it could be put, Tallain had no further flashes into his past. Their travels reached the Forest gate and there the group were bid rest for a while as their Leader headed off to attend to Guild business. Exhausted, Tallain sank down to sleep almost where he lay, noting that most of the others felt similarly spent, but he knew that the rest would only be for a couple of hours. Alandriel would no doubt be wanting to take advantage of this stop to focus more strongly on her teachings.

Tired from the long days of trekking through Mirkwood, for Lord Elbren had set as fast a pace as possible through the dense woods, the Ranger was nevertheless content. Ri's wound had healed well. There had been no ill after effects from the spider poison as she had initially feared and the young woman seemed in high spirits. LŽan‘ on the other hand had seemed preoccupied. Often, during their brief stops she had toyed with her dagger when thinking herself unobserved. Alandriel had on one occasion caught the glimmer of some symbols edged into the weapon. She had also noted the way the peredhel had seemed intrigued if not puzzled by them. Yet she had not intruded, knowing all too well that the Knight in Training needed to ponder such matters privately, at least for some time. Marius had kept up his spirit despite his mounting tension of soon meeting with the Beornlings that Alandriel sensed in him. He was not the only one with such apprehensions for she also had grown up in Rohan and had heard many tales. But mostly she was looking forward to that encounter. To be in the presence of the fabled shape-shifters would surely provide some interesting insights. Content she also was that the simple focussing exercises she made Tallain undergo had gone so well. With astonishment and some dismay she noted how fast he had progressed already in such a short span of time. She remembered well how long it had taken her to control the light, how much she had struggled to make it pulsate to her will. Many months, yet he had managed it in just a few days. That he was highly talented she had no doubt. But would he prove able to grasp fully the responsibilities that came with such abilities? Would he stand up to the toll that yielding such powers eventually would demand? For there was a price to pay for having such knowledge and the burden at times could be all but overwhelming. Settling herself into her bedroll she sighed. Only time would tell.

~~~

The following morn Alandriel woke up just before dawn, much refreshed after a peaceful and uninterrupted sleep provided by the ever alert Wood-Elf guards that had kept a watchful eye over their camp as well as the eastern shores of the Anduin. Drawn by the aromatic smell of freshly brewed tea she approached one of the small low burning fires and was soon handed a steaming cup. 'Hannad le' she said quietly to the Woodland Elf, grateful for his hospitality. In the semi-dark, she could see the sleeping forms of her companions, all of them - except for Lord Elbren. But that was hardly surprising for he would be busy planning the Mithril Knights next moves. Having emptied her cup, the warmth of the brew having dispelled all remnants of tiredness, she refilled it again and then made her way over to Tallain.

Crouching low next to the sleeping Easterling she smiled when he almost immediately stirred and opened his eyes.

'Good morning," she said quietly. 'I trust you had interesting dreams?"

His eyes widened momentarily for indeed he had dreamed. Alandriel nodded. 'I see," she said, 'so it continues'.I suspected as much."

Tallain shot her a puzzled look as he sat up.

'The crystal has triggered' something' I cannot be sure what, an actual event in your life that has been forcefully erased or some conjecture of the past or future'.. but it has had an effect. Whatever it is, it has been dislodged, set in motion whereas before it's been static " and since you've been carrying the stone for some days now, that effect is being compounded. " Tell me, what did you see?"

The Easterling shook his head, clearing the feelings of sleep and rubbing his eyes. As the impact of her words hit him fully, he recalled the vividness of his nightmares - yes .. he could feel the dread and closeness they engendered even now in the brightness of morning. Sitting up, he drew in a deep breath, smelling the fresh tea.

'I dreamt of death .. of death and destruction - fighting ... all around me ... pain ..."

Tallain closed his eyes as he felt the loss once again .. a tremendous loss that threatened to overwhelm him. He stood up, in a single fluid motion - his eyes searched hers, his hands clenching ...

'Alandriel .. I lost .. someone. Something .. but I don't know who or what. I don't even know if, as you said, it is yet to happen or has already taken place. It has something to do with - Riencuran."

He took a deep breath, noting the surprise on the Ranger's face at his words, until nodding he confirmed his statement

" .. ever since we met I have known, deep inside me, that I have seen her before. That we have met before. I do not know whether she remembers or recalls .. but these feelings and dreams have only started since we began this journey, and instinctively I can feel it has something to do with her."

Alandriel felt the turmoil in Tallain, yet there was something else, something deeper..... and much darker. For a long moment she regarded the Eastron.

"There are ways to try and uncover....." she began. "Yet if such teachings would help you or prove disastrous I do not know. There is something disturbing in all this - I am sure you feel it too. If there is any hope of unravelling these strange connections, if that is truly what you want, then you also need to talk to Riencuran; approach her, see if she can provide you with any clues."

Noting the hesitancy in Tallain she added: "Or do you mean to acquire such information through different means?"

Elbren was no Seer nor did he have the gift of the Sight; but, he was of the Eldar and had lived many years in the service of the Lady Galadriel. He knew what the movement of energy felt like; he could see the spirit world as clearly as he could see the corporeal with his Elven eyes.

He had felt the gift in Tallain when they had first met, and he had certainly taken note of the small bursts of energy that had recently begun to illuminate around the Easterling man. He had not worried of them, though, until now.

Having heard just the last few words of Alandriel and Tallain, Elbren's heart grew cold. He had recognised the power within the Easterling, but he had not realised that the man lacked the knowledge to control it, much less to actually wield it.

He stood silently in the grey shadows of early morn, painfully aware that such untrained, untapped energy was not only dangerous for Tallain, but dangerous for those around him. Stepping forth, he spoke quietly, so that only Alandriel and Tallain would hear him.

"We must speak on these matters," he turned to Tallain, "you must not attempt to use this power, Tallain, before you have a full understanding of what it is. You could well burn yourself, mellon, and burn those around you."

Both Alanadriel and Tallain made ready to explain, but Elbren shook his head, "Not now, but when we reach the Beornlings' village, we will speak. In fact, I think that Grimbeorn might even be able to help you understand this gift. It is no stroke of chance that you have made this journey, Tallain. Indeed, the more that you become familiar and comfortable with your insight, the more you will recognise when the Currents are moving fast within your own consciousness. And witin you, mellon, I see the Currents flowing strongly. Yet, I say again, the Currents can be dangerous; they can destroy you within the blink of an eye, Tallain. You are not yet ready to tap into them...not yet. Do not fight the Sight, but do not call it...not yet...not until you've spoken with Grimbeorn. Have I your word on this?"

If only her dreams still remained her own.

LŽan‘ came awake with a sigh, feeling perhaps even more tired than she had when she had gone to sleep.

All the previous day, as the group had made their way towards the Forest Gate, LŽan‘ had been preoccupied and silent, a sense of disquiet beginning to seep into her. Her anxiety had been such that, when the group had stopped to make camp, LŽan‘ had hardly noticed that it had been Tallain, the 'hated' Easterling, who had helped her light the fire and gather food for their small meal.

And now it was morning, and there was a slight chill to the breeze as the Sun's first golden rays brightened the Eastern skies. LŽan‘ shivered and drew her cloak more tightly around herself as she sat up. An instant, and she was unsure of where she was and how she got there. An instant. But then she saw her companions and remembered. Lord Elbren was speaking to Alandriel and Tallain. Again. There was something going on there. For a moment she wondered what it was, but then shrugged and decided not to worry about it, it was none of her business. She stood and stretched, breathing deeply, wishing she didn't feel so drained and disoriented whenever she awoke. That happened all too often nowadays. Her head felt too full of jumbled thoughts and memories, and a lot more besides. Giving herself a mental shake, she tried to get rid of those unwanted burdens, and also the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. Packing up, she strode to where Storm stood peacefully grazing.

She had been dreaming, and bits of those dreams still tumbled together with memories in her head. She could not separate one from the other. Wild flights and fights, strange people from unknown lands, Time flowing like a river and Ways and pieces of other lives, things right out of a Bard's tales, these had to be dreams. At least, LŽan‘ hoped they were. Chunks of conversations drifted around her thoughts, talks with her father, with friends, with DŽor, and a beautiful Elf, and a ship captain, and a well-dressed man who spoke to her like a father giving sage advice. Those were probably real. But it was all bits and fragments. Drifting.

LŽan‘ sighed. These dreams, too, happened far too often lately. Though she had now and again had these visions before, they had become more frequent since early Summer of that year. Yet she did not tell anyone of these dreams. Why, she did not herself know or understand, but she had simply felt that she could not bring herself to describe what she had seen. Half the time her visions made no sense to her anyway, and she did not know if they were visions of the Ages past, or what was yet to be. But since the summer, all her dreams had been of battles and death and destruction. And this last dream...

The packed lines of spearmen stretched a mile or more to either side below her, dotted with the pennants and banners of towns and cities and minor Houses. The river secured her flank on the left, the bogs and mires on the right. From the hillside she watched the spearmen struggle against the mass of Orcs trying to break through, ten times the humans' number. Spears pierced black Orc mail and spiked axes carved bloody gaps in the human ranks. Screams and bellows harried the air. The Sun burned hot overhead in a cloudless sky, and shimmers of heat rose above the battle line. Arrows still rained down from the enemy, slaying Orc and human alike. She had called her archers back, but the Black Knights did not care so long as they broke through her line. On the ridge behind her, her Žored awaited her command, horses stamping impatiently. Armour on men and horses alike shone silver in the sunlight. They must win here or die. She was known as a gambler; it was time to toss the dice. In a voice that carried over the tumult below, she gave the order as she swung up into her saddle. 'Footmen prepare to pass cavalry forward!" The banner-bearer rode close beside her, the Rohan banner flapping over her head, as the command was repeated up and down the line. Below, the spearmen suddenly moved, sidestepping with good discipline, narrowing their formations, opening wide gaps between. Gaps into which the Orcs poured, roaring bestial cries, like a black, oozing tide of death. She drew her sword, held it high. 'Forth Eorlingas!" She dug her heels in, and her mount leaped down the slope. Someone blew a great blast upon their horn. Behind her, horns answered and rose up in music, and hooves thundered in the charge. 'Forward!" She was first to strike into the Orcs, her sword rising and falling, the banner-bearer close behind. 'For the honour of the Rohirrim!" Her Žored pounded into the gaps between the spearmen, smashing the tide, hurling it back. 'To me! To me! Up Eorlingas! Fear no darkness!" Half-human faces snarled at her, oddly curved swords sought her, but she cut her way ever deeper. Win or die. 'Rohirrim!"

LŽan‘'s hand trembled as she raised it to her forehead. What was going on? What did all that mean? She wished she knew. She massaged her temples slowly, willing for her head to stop throbbing. She was not even a Rider, let alone a Captain... Why would she see something like that? It made no sense... Storm whickered and snorted, sensing his mistress's preoccupation, and nudged at LŽan‘'s shoulder, interrupting her thoughts. She stroked his mane absently, and said softly, 'I am all right." She wished she believed what she said. Just then, one of her companions called her to breakfast, but LŽan‘ did not feel even remotely hungry. She turned to face them, hoping she did not look as tired as she felt. 'I am all right," she said again, this to indicate she did not want breakfast. 'May we leave soon?" Lord Elbren shot her a worried and puzzled look, but LŽan‘ did not see. Already she had turned away again and was making ready to ride.

----------------------------------------

LŽan‘ kept mostly to herself as they rode that day, occasionally leaning forward to speak soft words to Storm, or absently fingering the dagger that hung at her side, or looking at the sky as if searching for something. Questions rose in her mind that she knew not the answers to, and for a long while her thoughts dwelt on her dream, if indeed a dream it had been. It did not occur her to talk to someone, perhaps the Elf Lord, about it. She had become so used to keeping her dreams to herself of late, and what would it achieve anyway, if she spoke of it?

As they traveled, Ronin followed close to Galadhon, but his eyes flitted curiously to and fro from each of their escorts. He finally nudged Galadhon with his elbow and whispered, 'They're Beornings."

The elven boy was irritated. 'I know. That's what they said they were."

'But we actually saw them change from bears into men! I had read of such things in your library, but I never thought I'd see it with my own eyes," Ronin said excitedly.

One of the men up ahead stopped suddenly while staring directly in front, and a deep growl rumbled from his throat. The boys exchanged glances. 'You shouldn't have told them to send word to Lothlorien. Once my aunt knows where we are, we'll never get a chance to reach Elbren," Galadhon chided.

'It would have looked suspicious if we had denied the request. Besides, we'll be closer to Mirkwood, so they'll probably send us there unless the road is too dangerous."

'Even if the road is dangerous, we HAVE to go," the elven boy insisted.

'Maybe Lord Elbren isn't there anymore. Did you think of that?" Ronin retorted.

'Then we'll follow his trail until we find him."

'We nearly got killed already."

'You're afraid?"

Ronin grimaced. He could tell that Galadhon was determined to succeed, and he didn't relish the idea of going home to Lorien in failure either. However, he was beginning to be more afraid of reaching Mirkwood and finding his mother there in wrath. It had seemed such an adventure before, but now he wondered if it was just a fool's errand. Either way, they would be in trouble. The choice was between two evils: going toward uncertain perils, or going back to have Carnimiriel throw them in one of the Guildhouse prison cells.

The night slowly moved on as Jiyadan slept and Rho busied herself by eating a light meal, collecting some nearby firewood, and making some minor repairs to one of her vambraces as well as some worn stitching on her stirrup leathers. Only the sounds of a gentle breeze occasionally blowing through the trees and constant flow of the Anduin broke the evening silence.

When she had finished the leatherwork Rho glanced up towards the evening sky and realized that less than two hours had passed. Turning, she looked over at Chirion who was contentedly resting near Jiyadan's feet, the Mithril Knight was grateful for the extra set of eyes and ears her four-legged companion possessed. Looking slightly to the right of the wolf Jiyadan was also sleeping soundly. It was then that the reality of the Easterling actually being here with her began to sink in.

Many seasons had passed since the two had met that fateful night and then abruptly parted the following day. They had seen each other one other time since then, at a Bard's Festival, but again time was limited and they never had a chance to speak about the brief encounter of their past. Yet they were bound to each other, or at least she to him, and Rho had always had a sense that a day would come when they'd have a chance to talk of that first night.

Glancing back at the dwindling fire Rho moved and placed another dead log upon it as Jiyadan turned over. Sitting back down she looked at him again and watched as a small clump of chin length dark hair slowly fell down across his cheek and came to rest against his forehead. The Easterling's hair length was only one of the signs that had marked the passage of time since their last meeting.

Rho took in a deep breath and turned as she reached into the pack beside her and pulled out a leather journal. Its bound pages were almost entirely full with her handwriting. Carefully she began to thumb through it and the memories of the past year began to come to life. Scooting back just a bit, the shieldmadien rested her back up against the large trunk of a tree and settled in to read.

The first entry began two days after she had left the Inn where she and Jiyadan had first met. It was also two days after Jiyadan's brother Moujhadin had saved her life. The many pages that followed then told of her journey back to Minas Tirith and finding Faramir there on unofficial business. The meeting with her cousin had gone well considering what she had to tell him. In the end, he took the news of her secret training with Culanir having been unintentionally revealed better than the news of her placing two Easterlings under the protection of the Stewards House, having bound herself to them with an unbreakable oath.

As she was turning the final pages, which contained her thoughts, questions, and reflections on that part of her past, a loose pieced of paper slipped out and fell onto her lap. Rho knew instantly what words were written on the page as she placed the journal face down upon her thigh and picked the folded paper up. Opening it up she once again saw the familiar words that Jiyadan had once written down for her long ago. There were two sets that said the same thing. One was in Eastron and the other in Westron. It had been a long time since Rho had looked at this page, or even thought of the actual words themselves:

Rodhaihir s'taba nal dakah, horihir s'iwa banal dakah,

Ui'waji senin ba han oe uamiv senin johia uineld.

Embrace the past before you; reject the future behind you,

See what is not there and feel what will always be.

She stared at the words upon the page for quite some time before finally folding the paper back up and placing it back between the pages of the journal. The riddle as it has once been called was still unsolved and the words still did not reveal a special meaning nor had she been given any insights or gained any new understanding as to the relevance of them for her life. Nothing regarding these specific words had happened since the night they were first given to her during a healing vision.

The stars continued their long evening journey across the sky as Rho continued reliving the past year of her life through the words upon the pages. After Minas Tirith came the opportunity for her to become a Mentor Knight. Then came her three-month trip to Harad answering Moujhadin's request for help, which was then followed by her return trip to Gondor. It was during this return trip, in Pelargir, where she met Tallain. Once again the shieldmadien found herself coming along side another Easterling man and after a brief trip to Minas Tirith, the two began their month long trip to Mirkwood.

After turning the last of the written pages of the journal, Rho looked up just as the eastern horizon began to glow with the early morning light of the sun. Carefully she placed the book back into her pack and then quietly stood up and stretched. Chirion lifted his head, watching to see what she'd do next, but when she remained still gazing off in the distance he laid his head back down.

The morning sky did not disappoint in sharing it's glory for those who were awake to see it. Deep intense pinks and oranges blazed across the patchy clouds and slowly changed into vivid golds and yellows providing a dynamic backdrop for the black silhouetted trees still hidden and waiting for the first touch of the sun's morning light. A few moments later the songs of birds began to accompany the sound of the flowing river greeting the new day. When the sun finally peered over the top of the distant hills Rho made her way over to Jiyadan and gently woke him up.

Jiyadan ate a small meal heated over the last of the night's fire. Not long after, they loaded their gear into the boat and once more began the journey. It was not long before Rho fell asleep, her apparent exhaustion taking over. Chirion again curled up by her feet and Jiyadan guided the small boat down the river.

Occationally his eyes would fall on her; 'So strange,' he thought to himself, 'that a woman should be a knight.' He had found it difficult to remember that she was a warrior in her own right and not just a woman with whom he traveled. The concept was still so new to him even though he had met and traveled with a few other warrior-women in the last year and he still had to remind himself that she wasn't just a woman.

Perhaps it was because her bearing was so much finer than the others had been; not brash, rough or arrogant; but humble, gentle. Though she was a warrior, she still carried herself as a lady and that, more than anything, set her apart from the others.

The morning passed peacefully, only the occational call of birds - strange to his ears - spoke of life beyond the river. He took in much that he was unfamiliar with that day. The strange trees that grew on the edges of Mirkwood bore little resemblance to those he had seen even in other areas of the West, and they grew tall and mighty. Had Rho been awake, he would no doubt have kept her constantly busy answering questions; instead he pressed on in silent wonder.

Sometime after the sun crested noon, Rho woke and slowly sat up. Jiyadan waited until she seemed awake and turned to look at him before he offered her the water skin. "Thank you," she said as she took it and eased her thirst. After taking a long drink Rho lowered the skin and looked back at the Easterling. "If you need some rest I can take over."

He shook his head. "No, thank you I am well. Perhaps, though, now might be a good time for explaining who these enemies are we face. 'Red Hammer' and such that your Lord Elbren mentioned."

Rho nodded in agreement and spent the next hour explaining to Jiyadan all that she knew about the enemy the Mithril Knights were now engaged with. The shieldmaiden's knowledge was considerably less when it came to the Knights of the Silmarils, but she told the Easterling as much as she knew regarding them too.

Jiyadan listened to all she had to say, asking questions only when he needed clarification on something, but otherwise remaining silent. When Rho was finished, he nodded thoughtfully. "I have heard rumors in the East about such dwarves, though know little of them. About the Mithril Knights themselves... you told me briefly of them so long ago. I would like to hear more now, if that is alright."

Again Rho began to explain just who the Mithril Knights were, some of their history, and all she had done since joining the Guild a few years ago. As she began to explain some of the actual process of becoming a guild member Rho suddenly realized there was more the Easterling needed to know.

"Jiyadan, just before you arrived there was an initiation ceremony the previous night. Bryttar was one of the Knights-in-Training who has now become a Mithril Knight, but there was another you should know about."

"Bryttar, really? That's wonderful. A shame I could not have greeted him ere we left, though time was of the essence. But, who is the other you speak of?"

She smiled at first knowing that Bryttar would have liked that too, but then she took a deep breath. "The other did not complete the initiation so she is not a full Mithril Knight, though she now has the status of Order of the Adept." Rho took another long breath. "Alandriel is the one of which I speak."

Jiyadan thought a moment. "The name is familiar," he hessitated, "but I can not place it. How do I know this person?"

"Yes Jiyadan you know her. She is the one who treated Moujhadin that night in the room at the Inn. She is the one, the healer with the red hair."

Instant recognition registered on Jiyadan's face as he clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the oar he held. His eyes narrowed slightly. "She is a member of your order?" he asked in almost a growl.

"Yes...yes she is, though like I said she is not a fully initiated member." Rho paused for a moment as she remembered some of the events of that night. "I'm sorry Jiyadan, perhaps I should have spoken of this sooner. With all that's been going on I forgot about it till now."

Jiyadan let the weight of her words sink in. He was no longer sure he could join with this order, so deep were the wounds of that night. He was about to reply when he noticed Chirion's head come around and become immediately alert. The Easterling shut his mouth and tried to hear over the murmuring of the river, following the wolf's gaze eastward. Chirion let out a soft whine and crouched down slightly causing an uneasiness to come over both Jiyadan and Rho; the two pressing themselves to the bottom of the boat as the hiss of an arrow ended in a dull thud on the hull.

Rho reached out and easily retreived her bow and quiver grateful that she had taken some time on this trip to actually practice thus giving her a chance to get to know this weapon. Rho slipped an arrow out, nocked it into her bowstring, and began to take up her position. "No, it's too dangerous!"

Rho looked at Jiyadan stunned and confused. "What do you mean it's too dangerous?"

Another arrow thudded on the hull. "You could get hit," he growled. "I'll try to outrun them. The river runs faster than they can."

"Jiyadan, do not forget what I am," she assured him. "I am a warrior, same as you. To do nothing is more dangerous."

She was right, and for a moment he felt ashamed; but he could not allow the feeling to linger for the situation called for immediate action. "From the south-east," he hissed and raised his shield to give her a protected shooting position. "Two, at least," he added as she raised herself to one knee and took aim, but her arrow flew low, hitting only dirt. Without a word, she drew the next arrow and had it on the line, aiming again and this time taking the man down.

Her third arrow flew wide when the boat bumped a rock and Rho lost her balance, wavering over the edge. Jiyadan caught her and pulled her back as another arrow wizzed overhead. Two more arrows found the boat, one landing dangerously close to where Rho had just been, and a third fell harmlessly into the river.

Rho took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a second to steady her thoughts, and came back up on one knee. She drew back; the rush of the river, the hiss of incoming arrows, even Jiyadan holding his shield in front of her blended into a greyness in the back of her mind as she came to focus entirely upon her target. Her arrow flew straight and true, and the second man fell. Jiyadan knew he would never again forget that he traveled first and foremost with a warrior.

Within seconds, he had the boat on the shore, his scimitar drawn and ready should there be any other attackers. Rho made her way to the second man as Jiyadan found the first, still alive but serioudly wounded, and drug his body over to the other.

"Have you ever seen these heraldries before?" Rho asked in response to his expression.

Jiyadan examined the strange symbols upon the man's tunic and shook his head. "No..." he said as he raised his eyes to hers, "but I've heard of them."

Tallain sighed deeply ... 'I just don't know Alandriel. For however long these .. memories, if that is what they are .. have remained hidden deep within me. Part of me whispers that perhaps they are best left thus. But I am not one to have ever taken a safe route or journey in my life, and who knows whether these past happenings will have some bearing in my current role. Or even with the Knights themselves. Somehow, I am reluctant to talk to Riencuran - there is something within me that warns me against her ... it is not my place to question her entry to the Knights as I myself know what it is like to suffer from ill-feelings because of my past and my heritage. But nonetheless, I cannot deny the feelings she engenders within me - wariness, distrust ... probably similar to what you all feel about me ..' he finished wryly, his natural sense of humour showing through.

'Perhaps what we could do is focus on how best to approach these hidden depths, and work on HOW to do it ... then if the time is right, they may or may not show themselves. I am deeply grateful for all your efforts on my part and I apologise if I ever appear ungrateful in any way. It is not my intent.' The Easterling looked deeply into his 'mentor's' eyes and expressed his gratitude in the only way he could - with sincerity. Their eyes locked for a long while and it was with difficulty that he moved his away

"Tallain," she began softly after the moment of silence, "your perception, as always, is very accurate for indeed I find myself very hesitant to lead you in such directions. Yet it is not out of distrust, not anymore.... wariness maybe, but not distrust, but mostly because.... I'm all too aware for the price one pays for such teachings."

She saw the perturbed look in his face and nodded. "Yes, there is a price to pay - for with power, there comes tremendous responsibility... not only for your action, your life... but also for those of others. To meddle in such affairs often has far reaching consequences, most of which you.. I.. can only guess at. Yet once we 'interfere' with the ways of the spirit, the great web of the weaver, even if it is to just glean some information, we change it also, inadvertedly or not, but we do. And for that we are responsible. Are you prepared to accept such responsibilities, however far they may reach?"

'Alandriel " I appreciate your honesty and it means much to me .. you cannot imagine how much. Since our first meeting I have admired you and wanted to learn from you .. even though I was unsure what it was you could teach me. I think that .. if you can show me how much of an impact .. how deep this responsibility runs, then I will be ready and able, with eyes wide open .. to take as much of it on my own shoulders as is required." The Easterling finished with gravity and seriousness " he could feel the weight of the moment and knew that this was of great import in their relationship " and in the steps he had taken to discover his own abilities.

Then before the Ranger could respond, both were interrupted by Lord Elbren " Tallain listened to the elf's wise words with respect and once again was struck as to how suddenly this tiny, insignificant ability had turned into something that could impose a command .. or a request " how could he possibly refuse this elven lord who had offered him a hand of friendship and an opportunity to become part of something so much bigger than he had ever dreamt of or imagined before.

Bending his head in homage, the Easterling placed a hand on his heart "'Upon my honour and that of my father's house " K'a ralo danso re'ine ravdol sh'vi ralo** " I pledge that I will do my utmost to comply with your request my Lord Elbren. I will however state that at many times my ability rises unheeded and unlooked for. In these cases I will, of course, seek the guidance of my mentor, the Lady Alandriel and yourself should you so wish' Hoping that this would suffice for the elven leader, Tallain looked at Alandriel and noted her agreement with his statement.

**K'a ralo danso re'ine ravdol sh'vi ralo - May my pledge rule (in)the honour of my House

They met the first Beornlings just a few miles North of the Carrock, near the Great River. Elbren had pushed the party hard for two days, for not long after they had left the Forest Gate, a darkness began to overtake the Northern horizon.

Smoke. Esgaroth was burning.

The Beornlings were tall and sturdy folk; wary in their eyes and actions, but they welcomed Elbren and his party, hurrying them to the village where Grimbeorn awaited them.

The village was active as word had already reached the folk of the trouble in the North and in the land of Rohan. Elbren and the others were taken to the wooden hall of Grimbeorn where a feast was quickly underway to honour their visitors.

The hall was longer than it was wide, with a fire pit running lengthwise down its center, a warmth issuing from it that was welcome to the weary travelers. Strong mead was served along with nuts, cheeses, and bread, and soon the aroma of roasting meats filled the room, much to the delight of the Mithril party.

Grimbeorn bade them sit near him at the far end of the hall, clearly anxious to hear the news. Elbren introduced those with him and then, accompanied by an ever filling cup of mead and soon a constant serving of food, Elbren told the Chief of the Beornlings the tale of the Red Hammer and their siege upon the North.

When the tale was done, the sun was sitting low in the sky, the fire was burning hot with embers, and Elbren quickly realised, when he attempted to stand, that he had ingested far too much mead, despite the constant filling of his plate as well.

"You would have our aid, then, Lord Elbren," Grimbeorn said quietly, his eyes twinkling and his voice low and gruff.

"I would," Elbren nodded, sitting down again, hoping that the dizziness that he now felt would soon pass.

"Our numbers are few," Grimbeorn nodded, "but we will send what aid we can. For surely if the Red Hammer takes the North, they will not be satisfied with only those lands."

"They will not," Elbren agreed, "for even now they burn and pillage to their content. I fear what we will find when we do reach the Northern borders of Mirkwood and Laketown."

"The Men of Laketown are strong," Grimbeorn poured more mead for the Elven Lord.

"Yes," Elbren winced at the full cup of the strong brew, "and with hard riding, we shall be there within a fortnight, perhaps sooner."

"Sooner," Grimbeorn announced, "for we know the secret trails of Mirkwood and will lead you by those paths. You say that an Elven army marches as well?"

"Indeed, 300 archers from Mirkwood and 500 from my own land of Lothlorien, along with almost every Mithril Knight in the North," Elbren paused, "your people know the secret paths...have you any word of a single Mithril Knight? A tall, strong man of the North, from Esgaroth. He was on an errand to the Lonely Mountain and we fear he is now lost."

"Traveling alone?"

"Aye, with a valuable return to the Dwarves of Erebor."

Grimbeorn shook his head, "We have seen many who flee the North, but none who seek it on such an errand. I will send out seekers, though, who can travel with great speed."

"I would appreciate this. His name is Dirk of Esgaroth."

"Consider it done, Lord Elbren, and now---"

Suddenly, the doors at the end of the Hall opened with a bang and in came a party of some ten or so Beornlings looking well traveled. It was not the Beornlings, though, that caused Elbren to stand quickly and his mouth to open in amazement.

It was Galadhon...and then Ronin, who emerged from within the group, both looking dirty and exhausted, and a little frightened. When they saw Elbren, though, and the other members of the Guild, the boys' faces lit up with excitement and hope.

"Uncle!" Galadhon cried, running forth and colliding with Elbren, who embraced him urgently.

"Galadhon!" Elbren stammered, and then pulled Ronin towards him as well, "Ronin! Whatever are you doing HERE?!"

The boys began to quickly recount their travels as their Beornling escort joined them and added their own rendition of the rescue. As Elbren heard the tale, the boys were served food, that they began to voraciously devour, though their tale never wavered in its intensity.

Elbren caught the eyes of his party members, and he noted that they, too, were both amazed and dismayed that the boys had come so close to death.

"Well," Elbren said slowly, once the boys had quieted, "that is indeed quite a tale." He looked to Grimbeorn, "I would be most in your debt if you would ensure to me that my wife, Lady Carnimiriel, receives word that Ronin and Galadhon have reached me in safety."

"It is done," Grimbeorn nodded.

"Now," Elbren turned back to the boys, and his voice changed so that all knew he was in complete earnest, "we shall speak later of the foolishness that nearly took you from this Middle Earth. I am sure that both of you know how grieved Lady Carnimiriel must be and how...Lady Tempest shall receive this news when it reaches her---"

"But, we HAD to tell you---" Galadhon began.

"I understand, Galadhon, that you felt this was most important, and sacrifices, as you both know, are sometimes necessary for the good of all the Free Peoples. The Mithril Knights are grateful for your efforts and for the danger that you placed yourselves in to reach us with this information. BUT," Elbren leaned closer to the lads, "never again. Not until you are older and stronger. You must give me your word, both of you....never again."

Ronin and Galadhon stared at Elbren in silence.

"We did this for those that we love," Galadhon finally said. "We may be young, but our intentions were honourable."

Elbren sighed, for he could not disagree with the boys' reasons for the perilous journey. It was then that he noticed the dried blood on both of their tunics and pants.

"You are injured?" He asked, alarmed.

"Just a few scratches from the wolves," Ronin replied.

"They were no mere wolves," spoke one of the Beornling rescuers, "Wargs, they were, and we have tended the gashes as best we could."

Elbren winced at the word, "Wargs", for his childhood fear of the beasts still ran strongly in his blood.

"Alandriel, would you take a look at their wounds, please? And now...to determine how to proceed---"

"Will send us back to Lothlorien?" Galadhon asked.

"No," Elbren shook his head, "that journey would be too dangerous for we can spare no guides for you. No...." he thought a moment, "you must ride with us on the morrow. And you must ride hard, Galadhon. I will leave you both at the Forest Gate and have you escorted to Mirkwood to await my return there."

"Can we not go with you to the battle?" Ronin nearly pleaded.

"Certainly not," Elbren said quickly, "and there will be no more discussion on that."

"We will depart on the morrow, then," Grimbeorn said, "but with the paths we shall take, Lord Elbren, we shall not go to the Forest Gate, but we shall pass very close to Thranduil's Halls. We can have the lads taken there with escort. They will be safe."

"Very well then," Elbren nodded and then spoke to his party, "we leave at dawn. We shall not rest for any great length of time until we reach the Elven armies and prepare our attack. Rest this night."

The two days it took them to reach the Beornings village were hard on LŽan‘, for Lord Elbren had pushed them hard, for not long after they had left the Forest Gate, a darkness had begun to overtake the Northern horizon.

LŽan‘ did not complain, but by the time they had reached the village, LŽan‘ was exhausted like she had never been. Her sleep was troubled by flashes of memories and other things, and always the dream she had seen when they had stopped at the Forest Gate, hovered near the edge of her waking and sleeping mind. And therefore LŽan‘ found that she did not sleep for more than an hour a day.

Lack of sleep, uneasiness, and the hard riding made LŽan‘ more weary than a shieldmaiden of Rohan ever ought to be. But LŽan‘ was determined not to let anyone see how tired she was, so she spoke little and kept slightly apart from everyone in their group.

She watched the Beornings rather warily and with a sense of awe, for these men, and the power they held, was strange and slightly alarming to LŽan‘'s mind. But they were polite and courteous, and the party was quickly taken to meet their leader, Grimbeorn.

LŽan‘ welcomed the food and drink heartily; she had begun to feel decidedly light-headed and faint with weariness.

She listened quietly and attentively as Lord Elbren told Grimbeorn the tale of the Red Hammer. Most of the news was new to her, sheltered as she had been in Rivendell, and the tale sent shivers down LŽan‘'s spine. The mention of the Knights of the Silmaril brought to LŽan‘'s mind the dream she had had continously for the past three.. almost four.. days. Could these be the 'Black Knights' she had dreamt about? She wished she had courage enough to speak to someone in her group about this matter. But even as she thought about it, it seemed to her wayward and childish, and so she did not speak.

As the Elven lord's conversation with the Shape Shifter came to an end, the doors at the end of the Hall suddenly opened and in stepped a group of men, and suddenly from among them emerged two young boys. LŽan‘ looked at them in surprise, wondering what they were doing in the company of the Beornlings, and they seemed exhausted and frightened. But then, one of the boys saw the Elven lord and rushed forward, crying, "Uncle!"

Uncle? LŽan‘, her mouth slightly open in amazement, looked from the boy to the Lord Elbren, and saw that he looked stunned. "Galadhon!" Elbren stammered, and then pulled the other boy towards him as well. "Ronin! Whatever are you doing HERE?!" The boys began to quickly recount their travels as their Beornling escort joined them and added their own rendition of the rescue. LŽan‘ listened to their story with dismay and sympathy, and saw similar expressions on the faces of her companions. Those poor boys!

Yet, a part of her admired their bravery and loyalty and devotion. to risk the dangers that lie in this Middle-Earth... But LŽan‘ could tell that Lord Elbren was not all that impressed. He spoke quietly but firmly to the boys, stressing that they must never do anything of this sort again. The smallest of smiles appeared on LŽan‘'s face as she listened to the Elven lord lecture the two young men. How many times had she had to hear the same sort of lecture from her parents and brothers? ... Too often, she recalled with a smile.

After deciding to leave the two boys in King Thranduil's Halls, Lord ELbren turned and spoke to the rest of the group. "We leave at dawn. We shall not rest for any great length of time until we reach the Elven armies and prepare our attack. Rest this night."

As LŽan‘ settled down for the night, she hoped that this night, at least, she would get the rest she so badly needed, and that her sleep would not be trouble by dreams.

But it was not to be.

Elbren had said nary a word to the youth in the two days that they travelled hard, giving him only an occasional reproachful look that only he could see. Marius was growing weary of his company and of the treatment he was receiving. After all, was he not the son of King Eomer? Should they not be extoling his bravery amidst the spiders rather than treating him with stony silence? His anger resurfaced, along with his resentment towards his father and the leader of the Mithril Knights, still the two mingled in his mind.

But just as this anger reached its peak, the travelers reached the village of the Beornings. Marius gaped in awe at their bulk, wondering how hard it was for them to turn into bears; his anger turning to curiosity. And then the delightful smell of food pervaded the air, reminding Marius that he had hardly eaten in the past few days, and the warmth of the pit melted any iciness he felt towards anyone in the party.

Once the boy had had his fill, he listened to the two boys who were near his age, scoffing at how they had braved much and at those who marveled that the boys had done what they had. I've done more than they, Marius laughed inwardly, finding it hard to keep from speaking aloud. But at this time, the last thing he needed was to anger Elbren, though the Lord seemed a bit out of sorts. Perhaps he has had too much wine, the boy thought, shaking his head in disgust. It appeared that elves were not immune to the temptations of man.

Marius listened very little after Elbren spoke of their journey and the Red Hammer, his eyes closed, though his mind was aware of his surroundings. He wanted more details about this group, but knew that as the Lord Elbren's apprentice, he was privy to nothing but what weapon his Master needed. What weapon his Master needed...

Marius's eyes snapped back open. Elbren's sword! That was the only way he could win his way back into the Lord's good graces once more--to retrieve the reforged sword before Elbren reached the Guild hall in Mirkwood. This would expedite the group's trip there and allow them to move on to the real action.

Looking around the emptying hall (for the others of his party had gone to bed), Marius spotted a few Beornings speaking in gruff tones near the fire pit. Standing straighter to make himself look a bit older, Marius walked purposefully towards them.

"Hello, friend Beornings."

The Beornings stopped abruptly and turned heavily towards the youth, one trying to keep from laughing at the boy who was too young to speak with such authority. Undaunted, the boy continued.

"I was wondering if one of you would be kind enough to be my guide to Mirkwood. Lord Elbren has asked that I go on ahead of those that leave at dawn, so that I may make preparations for their arrival."

The smallest of the three Beornings, the one who held back laughter, allowed a small smile.

"And what will we hear from Lord Elbren if we try to confirm this appointment, young lad?"

The other two laughed, while Marius looked on helplessly. Then, squaring his jaw, he tried again.

"Look, I need to get to Mirkwood before Lord Elbren. It is of utmost importance! Does it matter what my mission is? Will you deny me a guide if my reason does not suffice?"

The Beornings stopped their rumbling laughter and looked the boy over. He was certainly in earnest. But was he up to some mischief? The smallest of them, still with a twinkle in his eye, understood that the boy would not give up until a guide had been obtained. And indeed it was better that such a youth have a guide of some worth, rather than one who did not know the way--the only sort to believe this boy.

"I shall take on as your guide, young man. Can you be ready, saddled and all, in an hour?"

Marius nodded, incredulous. He had thought the Beorning saw through his plan and was prepared to search for another guide. Running towards his room, where his sack and accoutrements lay, he kept his eye trained for any who might give away his secret escape.

He grabbed his things and ran out, shutting the door as softly as possible. Seeing no one in the halls, he sprinted with light feet until he came to the stables. Berrog neighed a question softly, his breath hung upon the air in a cloud.

"Yes, we leave tonight, my friend. I am sorry we leave so soon. But the sooner we get to Mirkwood, the sooner you can rest for a while longer," Marius lovingly patted the stallion's neck.

"Are you ready, boy?" Marius jumped at the sudden interruption of the peaceful, silent scene by the Beorning.

"Yes." The youth jumped upon Berrog, a motion as natural as walking for him.

"I am Narbeorn and I know from Grimbeorn that you are Lord Elbren's apprentice. But that is all I need to know and I shall not ask you what your motives are. If Lord Elbren trusts you as his apprentice, I too shall trust your judgment." The Beorning quickened his pace and the boy matched his speed.

Marius nodded, relieved. But even with one who knew a quicker path, would they reach Mirkwood quickly enough for the sword to be reforged before Elbren reached the elven land?

The few folk haunting the streets in that part of town had taken sanctuary indoors at the start of the comotion when some well known local ruffians set upon a rag tag group of strangers. No one of them wished to draw the ire of those bully boys for the sake of some unknown travelers. Denizens of this quarter knew well to tend to what concerned them and kept clear of what did not.

A hastily drawn shutter held Erinhue's attention for a moment when he looked around to assess their situation. Raghnildur had climbed down from the roof with a look of grim satisfaction and was now walking towards him. A small motion from the man kneeling before him drew the warrior/bard's attention and earned the man a nicking of his neck, reminder to hold fast to his position.

Raghnildur was still coming towards him with an all too familiar gleam in his eyes. It was clear that the younger man intended to kill the prisoner but Erinhue diverted his intent. The bard's interest in what information the man might possess was enough to save his life at the moment.

'Raghnildur," Erinhue called, " get some rope and see to it that we are not disturbed by any of this one's friends that might still be breathing. The townsfolk might take it into their heads to stop any further bloodshed now that there's only us four to contend with." Erinhue did not really believe that any towns folk would show their heads out of doors as long as they stood there with drawn swords, but the reasoning was enough to stay Raghnildur's hand from unnecessary excess.

Another slight motion pulled Erinhue's attention back to the prisoner still kneeling in the stirred up dust of the deserted town square. He nudged the man to immobility before calling out, 'Agarak to me. It's time to drop the disguise."

In the space of a heartbeat, the dragonharp appeared at the foot of its bard. The disguising image of Gondor's corpulent Court Minstrel melted away to reveal Erinhue's true form. The face of the kneeling man blanched with sudden panic. His bravado held while he thought he was speaking to one who had beaten him through sheer luck. Now this one seemed to have been revealed as one who wheilded some form of powerful magic and his defiant resolve crumbled.

'I will give you one chance to answer my questions on your own." Erinhue advised their prisoner. 'I've neither time nor patience to waste. Tell me what you know about the Knights of the Silmarill. Where is their headquarters? Where are they now and what are their plans?

The man's insolence returned as he sneered, " Wizard or no you'll not get me to say a single word."

'I wouldn't be so certain of that,'Erinhue said, his voice full of the same chill reflected in his mirthless gray eyes 'but as I said, I don't have the time. You've had the one chance that I promised. Agarak, " the bard addressed the dragonharp directly, " I need to know what he knows."

The man cringed expecting perhaps the swift stroke of a sword blade. When nothing happened the man looked up at Erinhue with wary confusion. At first there was no consequence to his refusal to cooperate. Erinhue continued to gaze down at him expectantly, but did not ask any more questions and this confused the man even more.

In another few moments the man began to squirm from the effects of a sudden increase in the warmth of the fading day. The man tugged at his collar and glared up at his captor. Erinhue smiled his sucker smile and waited as the man's face began to redden.

The ruffian soon began to sweat under the increasing heat that seemed to envelope him. He tried to maintain some composure, not wanting his captors to see how very uncomfortable he was becoming. He looked from Erinhue's expectant waiting, to Raghnildur's satisfaction at what was happening to him and then his eye fell upon the harp sitting before him on the ground.

The green/gold scales of the little dragon were glowing as if illuminated by some powerful inner light. The jeweled red eyes were glowing like embers. As the prisoner looked deeper he could see an image of himself engulfed in living flame, flame that burned and pained him but did not consume or kill. The steadily increasing heat around him convinced the man that in mere seconds he would be swallowed up in flames.

Before he could even think of what lie to tell, true images from his thoughts an memories began to flash through Erinhue's mind. The man was a fringe member, someone who wanted to make a name for himself and through that desire was used by the Knights of the Simarill in this local operation. He knew little of their future plans or present whereabouts but he did have a vivid memory of a certain encounter.

The images were of a chamber deep within a mountain, a mountain that had a strangely familiar feel. The Knights of the Silmarill were meeting, make that argueing with some dwarves that were members of the Red Hand. What Erinhue saw in those fleeting images told him that his preliminary conclusions had been correct. There were indeed skin changers in the world and they were not Beornings, they were linked to the Red Hand and had no love for the Mithril Knights.

There was something else there in the shadows something dark dangerous and immensely old. It was unclear in the vision due to the fact that the man had never gotten a good look at it himself, but what he had seen or discovered was terrifying enough to him that his mind wanted to block it out.

As the images faded away notes plucked from a set of harpstrings tinkled in Erinhue's mind. 'Bard you are needed to the north and east. The head of your knightly order is calling all to him and you must make haste to respond.

'Thank you Agarak." Erinhue replied to the musical message. To the others he said aloud, 'Our mission leads us north and east. Elbren has sent out a call for all of us to rendezvous south of Esgaroth by the Long Lake."

'But what about this?" Raghnildur waved an arm about to indicate their present situation.

'What I learned from our friend here makes it clear that we must meet Elbren with all possible speed. There is a danger there that he may or may not know about. What ever it might be it was enough to frighten our friend here into trying not to remember. That's good enough for me to say that Elbren must be informed."

'Erinhue," Telta said as she adjusted her tunic to cover the re-bandaged wound 'The Long Lake lies on the other side of Mirkwood Forest. If we set out with all speed we could not make any great haste to join the Knights, for it would take us days to cross the forest on foot as we are now."

'I could summon my raven friend and have him go contact the Eagles and then they could fly us across the forest." Fala helpfully suggested.

'And what time would we waste while the Eagles were sought out?" Erinhue countered. 'I have a better way although I am afraid that it will cost me." The master bard picked up his harp and began to stroke the little dragon along the top of its flat, reptilian head. He crooned to it in what seemed like gibberish. The little dragon's red eyes flared dangerously and a flurry of short choppy notes ensued.

'Yes, I know, but' well it is, but, " Yes, I know that too." Erinhue hemmed and hawed through his end of a seemingly one-sided argument. More sharp notes rose up from the untouched yet vibrating harp strings.

'That's not fair!" Erinhue exclaimed. A swift series of notes was immediately followed by an ear-piercing whine. 'All right, all right, I'll do it." Erinhue said with a note of defeated protest in his response.

Turning to the others, Erinhue noted the amusement on their faces. Trying to ignore it he said, " We have transportation that will make the trip in briefest possible space of time. Agarak has agreed to take us all to the other side of Mirkwood."

Having known Erinhue for sometime now Telta risked a grin and let her amusement seep into her voice. 'I know a bit about that dragonharp of yours, 'Hue. What did Agarak want you to do in return for this unprecedented act of cooperation?"

'Telta darlin, ya really don't wanna know." Erinhue mumbled in response. Telta tried to get a good look at his face as he stepped past her and she could almost have sworn that the master bard was blushing.

'Join hands' Erinhue instructed. When they had he picked Agarak up in his left hand and extended his right hand to Fala who stood closest to him. Hand in hand the four of them stood in the town square. There was a faint melody, something dreamy played upon the strings of a harp. In the next moment the four of them found themselves standing at the southeastern banks of the Long Lake, less than a few miles from Lake Town and Esgaroth. Once getting their bearings they set out to locate the meeting point and re join Elbren and the rest of the Mithril Knights.

"Have you ever seen these heraldries before?" Rho asked as she looked down at the two men, one dead and the other wounded.

Jiyadan examined the strange symbols upon the man's tunic and shook his head. "No..." he said as he raised his eyes to hers, "but I've heard of them."

Jiyadan remained quiet for a moment until Rho prompted him to tell what he knew of this enemy. "It is an ancient military unit. You might call it an army but that is not quite right; there is no word in Westron for it. They are among the most ruthless, proficient and feared of the forces of Rhun. Well do I know this symbol for we often heard of it in Harad from those fleeing the Easterling attacks upon border villages."

"But Jiy," Rho interrupted, pointing down at the men. "These aren't Easterl..."

'We cannot linger here." Jiyadan warned sternly as he noticed Chirion's ears suddenly prick up. 'These were no doubt scouts, the rest will be here soon." Drawing his dagger, he pulled the rest of the archer's hood from his face and stared at him for a moment. Rho was right, he was indeed no Easterling. Without hesitation, he sent the man from the world of the living and then helped Rho retrieve her arrows. Rho called the wolf into the boat and just before Jiyadan also left the bodies, he cut the heraldry from one of them and stuffed it into his tunic. 'We may need this ere long."

Doing his best to cover the traces of their boat, he hoped to slow any pursuit by making it difficult to determine exactly where they had come from, whether from the river or elsewhere on the bank. He pushed off and set a quick pace down the river, propping up his shield to protect his eastern side and advising Rho to lay low so as not to present and easy target.

Instead of camping at nights, they took shifts with the boat, eating their meals cold but setting a pace almost double of the last few days. They kept the conversation almost to nothing, remaining silent as much as possible except when absolutely necessary.

It was mid afternoon three days later when Rho spotted the rock outcropping off in the distance that marked where the two needed to go ashore. A quick glance back at Jiyadan and his affirming nod let the shieldmadien know that he too had seen it.

Less than a half hour later the two were safely on shore with the elven boat well hidden. After a quick meal Rho walked over to the rivers edge, and knelt down. Jiyadan finished cleaning up the small site and shouldered his packs. "We'd better get going before..." but his words trailed off. Rho seemed not to have even heard him, so intent she was on the river before her.

But she had heard him and knew that this precious moment she had waited for would have to be cut short. Looking down, her hands held a small clump of dried flowers she had collected earlier on their journey. Closing her eyes, Rho silently recited a short poem to herself, then opened her eyes and offered the flowers to the river.

Slowly the small grouping floated down along the river, bobbing to and fro as her moist eyes followed. When they were gone from her view, she pushed herself back up to her feet and walked over to where her packs were sitting. Rho did not look up at Jiyadan until her packs were securely on her back and she was ready to go. Neither said a word as the Easterling turned east towards the woods. Rho and Chirion followed.

****

On the morning of the fifth day, the group finally reached the edge of the elven community, though their arrival was met with mixed results. However, Rho had neither the time nor the energy to defend the honor of her traveling companion and insisted she would only explain their mission to the leader, once they were taken to him.

The street soon emptied leaving the man alone and kneeling at the end of Erinhue's sword. As Telta watched Rahnildur stepped lightly over fallen bodies his attention riveted on their captive his approach determined, his intent known to the others. Looking down at the lone man she saw a small drop of blood trickle down his neck where Hue's sword had pierced the skin.

Telta remained silent her manner calm, cool, trusting Hue to do whatever was necessary with the captive to gain what information they could. Here before them was the opportunity to find out what the man knew. But if Raghnildur got to him first...

'Raghnildur!" he called out giving him another task, drawing his attention away from the captive. Raghnildur backed off leaving the man in Hue's capable hands but he did not go far.

The Mithril Knight called out once again but this time it was to the little dragon harp, Agarak. Hue's disguise vanished revealing his true form and the kneeling man cringed his bravado of earlier fading just as quickly as Hue's disguise and his countenance growing pale. Several questions were asked of him yet he found some small spark of courage and refused to answer. Not a wise move Telta thought shaking her head. Hue was right when he said he had no time.

Agarak I need to know what he knows." At these words Telta flinched a little knowing what Agarak was capable of. The time for questions was passed, the time for answers was at hand.

Telta watched and waited as did the others. There was no visible sign that anything was happening but the man began to squirm. She looked closer. The man was sweating. He looked from Erinhue to Raghnildur to Agarak ignoring Fala and herself. The dragon harp was at work it's glowing scales and red eyes was all the proof needed. Whatever had happened between Hue, Agarak and the man did not take long. and when the Knight spoke it was to tell them that they were to head for a rendezvous with Elbren south of Esgaroth, by the Long Lake.

Telta pointed out that it would take days to reach the rendezvous on foot and Fala suggested the Eagles but again that would take time to summon them. They could move in haste but would still not make it there in good time. The trail leading through Mirkwood itself was full of dangers yet it would be the quickest way there.

Hue had another idea in mind. He spoke with Agarak and the little dragon harp responded in it's own way. As serious as the situation was the three of them could not help the stirring of amusement at the conversation between the two. Agarak agreed to take them passed Mirkwood once Erinhue conceded to whatever form of payment it insisted on. Curious as to what it would cost Telta was not at all surprised when he did not relay that particular piece of information. As he walked passed her she could not believe the pink that heightened his colour. Was he blushing? This was indeed a change for him. Just what was it that Agarak wanted him to do? This bore more looking into, but later.

'Join hands." Raghnildur took hold of her hand and then Fala's. Hue took Fala's hand and picked up Agarak. Their captive remained on the ground where he had fallen after the interrogation dead or alive she did not know nor did she care. He faded away with the town square and was replaced in an instant by green grass where dirt had been but a moment ago and trees stood where buildings had been.

Telta felt nothing. There was only the dimming of the town square then they were standing on the bank of the Long Lake. She looked at the dragon harp nestled in the crook of Hue's arm. 'Amazing." she whispered to herself.

The several day journey from the river to the Elven colony grated on Jiyadan. The pervasive silence was a strain; little things that normally would not affect him were beginning to; and all the while, his thoughts returned to the emblem of the Black Sun he carried now in his tunic.

He knew the emblem as surely as he knew his own face. Have you ever seen these heraldries before?" she had asked. It was one of the few lies he had ever given in his life, but how could he have explained? Surely she would never have understood. There were yet too many questions that remained in his mind. Who were the men bearing this mark, for Easterling they were not. How did they come to be involved with that army? How, too, did they come to be so far west? He set his jaw and continued on in their monotonous trek.

The morning of the fifth day found them in the midst of several drawn bows. Had it not been for the strength and persistence of Rholarowyn, they doubtless would have failed in their task even within sight of its conclusion, but they were indeed shown to the leader of the colony.

He wasn't arrogant so much as distrustful of them, Jiyadan noted as they entered the brightly lit room. He at least presented the appearance of hospitality, rising at their entrance and bidding them both sit. Chalices of water were brought and he listened as Rho told him of the need of the Mithril Knights at Esgaroth. Jiyadan noticed that this Elf-lord had a slightly reddish tint to his hair, a trait that Jiyadan understood to be extremely rare. He didn't let his observances interfere with listening closely to the conversation, however.

"Please Lord Culfin," Rho was saying. "We would not have made the journey had it not been of the utmost importance. Lord Elbren, whose name you know, has sent us to bring as many archers back as possible. The need to break the line of the Red Hammer can not be stressed enough!"

The Elf lord did not answer right away but sat with his fingertips just touching, looking soberly at Rholarowyn. When he at last spoke, it was with the weight of many immortal years. "Many times have enemies from the East threatened our borders." He looked squarely at Jiyadan before returning his gaze to Rho. "But we now have our own troubles to face. Winter is coming upon us and we can not spare all our men to go north to battle the enemies of others."

"The Red Hammer is not the only foe that now threatens Mirkwood," Jiyadan interjected. "Eight days ago, now, we were attacked upon the river by men bearing this mark." He handed Culfin the symbol of the Black Sun he had taken from the tunic of the archer. "This is an Easterling army heraldry. If they have come so far into Mirkwood as to have reached the Anduin with their scouts, then you will not be safe here for much longer."

Culfin took the emblem and looked at it before handing it back. "I have seen this before," he said gravely. "Yet you would have us leave our homes, our families defenseless against one enemy while we fight another? If we send all our warriors north, who will remain to protect our homes here?" Culfin countered.

"I'm afraid evacuation of your women and children is your only option. If the Red Hammer defeats us and moves south, your homes will surely be lost then. No, we must make our stand at Esgaroth and break them there!" Rho insisted.

"We will not leave our homes! If the battle comes, then we will make our stand here," Culfin said, pounding his fist on the table for emphasis.

"Then you will stay and be slaughtered," Jiyadan growled. "The people of Esgaroth would doubtless have rejected me, yet that spared them none of the wrath of this Dwarven army! The time will come when it will not matter with you ally yourselves, but only that you are not allied with them!

Jiyadan stood and took a step forward. "Your archers have the ability to turn the tide in this war, but only if they join the rest who stand against it. On their own, none can stand against this wave. All those of Middle-Earth who would be rid of this foe must stand together now!"

Rho then stood. "It is not Jiyadan you follow, but me. It is not he that asks for your aid, but the Mithril Knights. Lord Elbren needs your archers! It was not his intention that this would be a debate. You must come!"

"No. We simply can not put either trust or hope in the councils of the East," he said, motioning to Jiyadan. "I'm sorry, but there will be no aid from us."

"It is not the East that gives its council, nor asks for your aid!" Rho pleaded. "What does his blood have to do with whether you will answer the call of the Mithril Knights? Will you answer the call of Lord Elbren?"

Culfin thought in silence for a moment, his eyes straying to Jiyadan. Looking back at Rho he said, "This is not a decision that can be made lightly. I must take this to the council. You will have your answer in the morning." He called one of the guards to show Rholarowyn and Jiyadan to their quarters for the night.

Before Rho left, Culfin called her aside and spoke briefly. "The Mithril Knights are known and respected here, but it is a sore trial to ask us to give shelter and hospitality to an Easterling. I will guarantee his safety but you will be held responsible for him. Any treachery on his part will be paid by you. Do you understand? The deaths at the hands of his kin will not be soon forgotten by the Elves."

"Yes Lord Culfin, I understand." Then Rho turned and walked up beside Jiyadan. "Stick close to me," she whispered as they were then led to their quarters.

As the two followed their escort, Chirion, who had remained outside, took up position at Rho's side. Their quarters were separated by a few steps between flets and low enough that the wolf could also join them. Rho put her things down in her room and joined Jiyadan in his.

After he had set his packs down she asked, "Can I see the heraldry now?"

Jiyadan took the patch from his tunic again and handed it to her.

Rho took the piece of cloth from Jiyadan's hands and examined it closely. There were no other designs hidden within the black sun or the crismon fabric surrounding it, but still she continued looking for something, anything that would give her some clue of it's orgins. After several minutes Rho finally handed it back to Jiyadan. "You say this is a symbol worn of those in an Easterling army. What can you tell me of this army? What kind of men normally wear this?"

He took a deep breath as he returned the patch to his tunic. His mind raced for what to answer but he finally took another breath and began to speak. "This is an elite unit of highly trained warriors. Dangerous, moving in small groups to avoid detection.. they are often behind assasinations or assasination attempts in Harad. Individually they are deadly. As a whole, they are almost unstopable."

Rho was not suprised by his answer and asked her next question calmly. "Do they have a name? A special name?"

"In Eastron they would be called Yatsri Ims'Daketh Ahi. Roughtly translated, the name means 'Hunters of the Black Sun.'"

Rho noticed the matter of fact tone in his voice when he replied and stood up from the chair she'd been sitting in. Weariness was begining to take it's toll but she crossed the room, turned around, and looked back at the Easterling now sitting on the bed. She took a deep breath. "Jiyadan, is it possible that those two men we killed a few days ago could have followed you to Mirkwood? Of if not them then others? Do you think this army knows you are here and are helping us or do you think this is larger than that?"

Jiyadan thought for only a moment but shook his head. "No. They were not Easterlings. I do not know if they were indeed a part of that army, or if they wore the symbol to deceive. I know if they had been properly trained... we would not be alive now. Too many questions remain in my own mind, but I do not believe I was the cause of their presence."

"But you know I fear that there will be those that will?"

Jiyadan was silent for a long time before answering. "Yes, I know."

Another silent moment followed his reply until Rho finally spoke up. "We both need to get some rest." Then she stood up, looked at the wolf, and then back to Jiyadan. "I'm going to leave Chirion in here with you tonight."

Jiyadan nodded and as Rho left, he whispered a word of caution. "Sleep with one eye open, Rholarowyn. The woods are filled with many enemies."

The next morning Rholarowyn and Jiyadan woke to preparations already underway for evacuation. Their escorts brought them back to Culfin's office where he and several other wizened leaders sat in discussions. Culfin stood as the two knights entered and beckoned them forward.

"Lady Rholarowyn," he said with a slight bow. "The council has decided. We will answer the call of Elbren. As you can see, we are already preparing to evacuate our families to Lothlorien and two-hundred fifty archers await orders to leave for Thranduil's halls. The Mithril Knights have ever commanded our respect.. even now," he added, his eyes again flicking to Jiyadan. "Your allies are ours. We will follow you."

The Elves were as good as their word and seemed to put their full faith in the two Knights. Both their inputs were welcomed as the leaders and council discussed plans for both getting those left behind to safety as well as for moving the archers as quickly as possible to join with the rest of those who would soon face the Red Hammer's souther front. Jiyadan's long military experience was put to good use.

Supply wagons were quickly readied for both groups and Rholarowyn and Jiyadan were given new horses to carry them. A great black stallion was brought for Jiyadan, his imposing form made even larger by the great feathers about his hooves. A bay, slightly smaller but no less grand, was brought for Rho and they were both fitted with makeshift saddles as elves do not use such devices.

Within an hour, an army of Elven archers on horseback was underway; Lady Rholarowyn and Jiyadan rode at their head.

With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity Alandriel entered the simple yet nonetheless splendid hall of the Beornlings in the wake of Lord Elbren. 'Grimbeorn might be able to help you understand this gift' Elbren had said to Tallain only a few days ago. What exactly the Guild-Master had meant, how it would play out " for something would transpire of that the Ranger was certain " she had no inkling. She kept quiet throughout the meeting, bending most her efforts on observing the proceedings. Not everyday it was one met with the leader of the shape-shifters and so she took great care in studying their mannerism and way of speaking. Not only she, however, was enthralled by them. All Knight's in Training seemed to be mesmerized. Tallain also was highly alert, in an outwardly unobtrusive fashion, yet Alandriel sensed his reaching out to the various people of this strange race present in the room, subconsciously or consciously she could not tell. Yet a pointed glance at the Easterling only yielded a small smile in return. She felt his ever increasing consternation but there was little she could to at the moment apart from giving him an encouraging nod. Soon however her attention was diverted for the doors burst open and a party of Beornlings entered with two young boys looking quite scruff. Alandriel smiled at the happy reunion of Elbren and the two youngster for it was clear that their appearance greatly pleased and relieved the Guild-Master.

"Alandriel, would you take a look at their wounds, please? And now...to determine how to proceed---"

Alandriel nodded and quickly went to retrieve her pack she had left by the door upon entering.

'You both were very lucky," she said to both Galadhon and Ronin a few moments later, after having examined them thoroughly. 'Wounds caused by Wargs can be dangerous. The men that rescued you have tended you very well however so do not fear. You have been very brave."

She was just about to pull some new bandaging out of her satchel and some healing herbs when her gaze fell upon Tallain who stood nearby. His face was inordinarily pale and a few beads of sweat had formed on his brow just as Lord Elbren announced: 'We'll be leaving at dawn."

Watching the Eastron for a few moments longer, Alandriel's suddenly sharp voice penetrated through the hall: 'Tallain!"

Elbren did not sleep that evening. He spent most of the night outdoors, walking beneath the stars, in earnest contemplation and meditation of the current situation with the Red Hammer.

And Parador's visions of the bones in Orthanc...

Orthanc, whose true name was Minas Valacirca and who held the secret Chamber of the Sickle of the Valar...

and the Sickle, that Nienor-Niniel now held, and whose spirits seemed to be bound to each other...

Easterlings in the Guild...Tallain and Jiyadan...

Elbren suddenly stopped in his tracks, the silvery light of the stars cascading down upon him, making him a ghostly figure who stood motionless within the courtyard of the Beornling's Chief, Grimbeorn.

A tingling began in the nape of his neck, subtley and slowly, the sensation snaked its way until it rested just above and behind his eyes, centered in his forehead.

A small smile began to form upon the Elven Lord's lips. Yes, this was a Truth. Tallain and Jiyadan, Men of the South, had come to the Mithril Knights in a time of need.

It was no accident; this Elbren could feel within the seed of Truth that now rested firmly within his spiritual sight.

There was hope. The tides were set to turn. It was not certain which would flow and which would retreat, for the Red Hammer were strong. Elbren had underestimated them too many times. The Arkenstone was broken.

Dirk was lost to them.

That truth hit Elbren's vision and stung him, almost bringing him to his knees.

It was not death, Elbren blinked hard at the burning in his eyes, no, Dirk was not dead. But he was lost to them.

Lost.

Elbren's eyes misted with the anger and sadness of the vision. The all too familiar heaviness within his chest, the weight of death and despair, erupted and began to spread.

Laketown is burning.

Elbren's face turned quickly towards the Northeast, and he willed his Sight to show him what had fallen the people of Esgaroth. The Elven Lord was no Seer, though, he could only touch what was close to him in his heart and sometimes catch a fleeting glimpse of their Fates as they rode the Currents. Sometimes, as they had tonight, those glimpses had become Truths, and Elbren knew that the Fate had been sealed.

Esgaroth, though, and the Fate of its people, was not shown to Elbren on this night. Only a darkness was revealed, and even though Elbren could hear voices and what sounded like the revelations of battle, the Vision remained inky black.

With a sigh, Elbren closed his eyes and knelt down. That was enough for tonight. The Elven Lord was suddenly very weary...

**********************************************

At dawn, Elbren waited with impatience for Marius to join the waiting party.

"Where is he?" the Elven Lord said to himself.

"Who?" Alandriel asked.

"Marius," Elbren replied.

"Your apprentice," one of the Beornlings said gruffly, "left last evening for Mirkwood."

Elbren's eyes widened in surprise, and those near him could feel him bristle at the news.

That boy is going to get himself killed, Elbren thought, and how will I ever tell that to his father?

"Very well," Elbren said, "let us be off."

The Beornlings and the Mithril Knights set out upon the hidden paths known only to the Beornlings. In fact, there was quite an eruption of surprise when the Beornlings insisted that their guests be blindfolded; even Elbren had to hold back his own protest. In the end, though, there was no time to argue, and with Elbren's example of acceptance, his companions followed suit.

The blindfolds did not last for long, though, for an hour or so into the hidden paths, the Beornlings removed them. There was no need for them as the woods were so dense with underbrush, one could not even tell which direction one was heading.

The Beornlings set a swift pace, much to Elbren's liking, and by evening, they had time to halt for a few hours' rest and refreshment. It was here that Elbren spoke with his nephew and Ronin; the Elven Lord spoke in low tones, but those that saw noted how he checked their weapons and even tried to adjust their armament.

A few hours after sunset, the company of 200 Beornlings and the Mithril Knights set off again.

It was a little less than 200 miles, as the crow flies, from the Beornling village to the Halls of Thranduil. 5 days of hard, relentless travel, finally brought the company to the Gates of the Wood Elves.

It was here that quick news was given and received, supplies were replenished, and much to their initial chagrin, Ronin and Galadhon were to leave the Mithril Knights.

"I am counting on you," Elbren told them as he led them to the Guild House, "to act as pages within the Guild House during this war...until I return, at least. This is an important task and with all of the Knights going to battle, we have few left whom I trust to send and receive messages, send supplies...you understand?"

Ronin and Galadhon both nodded as Elbren paused before the great doors that led to the series of carved stone that belonged to the Mithril Knights as their Guild House.

"Well, here we part, for now," Elbren eyed them both closely, "I expect you to keep your word, gentlemen. That is the first key to becoming a Mithril Knight."

The two lads nodded slowly, feeling the seriousness of Elbren's insinuation. Was he already truly looking at them to see if they were candidates for Mithril Knight training?

"Namarie," Elbren smiled.

*****************************************

Thranduil spared 200 more archers, supplies, and within three hours of their arrival, the party of Beornlings, Mithril Knights, and Mirkwood Archers set off again.

The pace was no less and with the woods lessening as they traveled East, in less than a day's travel, they saw the fires and encampment of those whom they sought.

The army sentries cheered at their arrival and word was sent with haste to the main camp that Lord Elbren had arrived. Half an hour later, Elbren was in the planning tent, maps before him, gathering his captains to him to hear the latest news and plan their attack....

Tallain had found the journey tiring as the ride was hard and he was conscious of Elbren's words. He found himself able with much more ease to block his ability, partly through determination, but also through the focus that Alandriel had provided for him.

Once they had reached and been welcomed by the Beornlings, Tallain began to feel increasingly uncomfortable. The powers evidenced by the 'shapeshifters' surrounding him began to take a toll on his self imposed withdrawal from his gift, and he found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on what was going on around him and on the words being exchanged between Elbren and Grimbeorn. Noting the concern that was etched across Alandriel's face as she spoke his name, Tallain arose and approached the ranger 'I am .. all right Alandriel " just a momentary lapse of control. It will be well. I have an oath to Elbren and this I will not break."

That evening was long and the Easterling was pleased once the group had been dismissed to turn in for the night. But he was unable to sleep. Images of his dreams, of his experiences for the last months, of his binding to this group, flitted through his mind as he lay awake on the thin mattress provided to them. Restlessly he arose, pulled on some clothes and headed outside. He always felt more comfortable under the night sky. Leaning against the strong, carved wooden doors and saw the elven lord to whom he had made an oath as binding as his life was worth, pacing slowly in the cool evening air. He could see that Elbren was deeply preoccupied, that he was meditating, considering " the future ? The present ?

Tallain resolved that he would keep quiet about his own worries and troubles for now " but would address them once their future was a little more defined. His hand closed over the crystal Alandriel had given him, and he closed his eyes whispering once again his thanks to the Ranger who in such a short time had helped him so much. Quietly he stood in the night sky, his thoughts turning to the journey ahead, resolutely keeping his mind away from the Elven Lord, lest he disturb his musings.

The journey over the following days was hard and fast " Tallain thanked Rholarowyn again in his heart for the strong and capable steed she had obtained for him, patting Vento and thanking the horse quietly in his own language. As they approached their final destination, their numbers now swelled with additional troops, Tallain felt relief mounting in his weary body, knowing the rest and a hot meal would be forthcoming.

He had enjoyed the small amount of interaction he had managed with one of the Beornlings who had consented to speak to him, and the two had exchanged experiences and different feelings of the road ahead. Now would come the final test, the real battle with an enemy about whom the Easterling knew very little beyond the words he had heard from the Elven Lord, but believed in his heart was worth fighting against. Tallain wondered whether Rho would be in the camp and whether he would have a chance to finally talk to Elbren about his role in the coming battle.