He travelled eastward into the Hithaeglir, where the biting East Wind blows the snow across the passes. Parnard was wandering in circles, for his track was hidden; worse still, the sun and stars were obscured by the mists and rolling grey clouds. He had lost his way, though it did not seem so to him. The way before him was the right way; he needed only to follow it, and surely, he would come to his destination. But his path led to nothing but more snow, and the same rocks and trees. He did not realize his peril – if he had, he would not have come there. The mountains were dangerous, full of goblins and other evil creatures, and in that wilderness, there was no dwelling place of elves to call at or lodge in, and no company of travelers passed within hail.
His shaking fingers, blue with cold, could not get the tinder to light, and he cast aside the flint with a cry of frustration. His supply of food was nearly eaten. Soon he would not have strength to press on. There would be nothing for him to do but lie down and die, and his body covered by the drifting snow, if wild animals did not scavenge it first.
It is hopeless, he thought, and clutched at the jade and silver pin on his shoulder. Lord Anglachelm gave this to me to bid me welcome to the house of Vanimar, though I did not expect it. How wonderful it was to leave my solitude for company, to leave my wanderings for the well-frequented streets of Imladris, and to know the pleasures of a home! And then I left it shortly after - I wish I could return there! But I have my promise to consider. I will not break it and be unfaithful. “It must be upheld,” Parnard cried out, his head dizzy, and staggered a few steps onward. But – where was he going? What had he promised?
I stood before Lord Anglachelm, and he spoke of the ancient city of the Noldor, and I stretched my hand out to him...and then - I cannot remember! All that has happened to me, and I have forgotten my promise to my Lord! I am unworthy to serve him. He sank to his knees in the snow.
It cannot be helped: what I can do and what he can do are two very different things. He is mighty with the strength of a hundred elves, and has scores of powerful nobles at his command. I have nothing but this sword and my weak arm, which can barely lift it - yet he chose me, why I know not, but he is wise with the wisdom of the ages, and his word is judgment. Shall I show Lord Anglachelm my gratitude by sitting down in ungrateful silence and dying? Curse my feeble limbs! It cannot be far now, just over that hill and I shall see the lights of Imladris twinkling down in the valley. He is waiting for me there. The way is sure to be right; I will delay him no longer.
