Continued from: Leave of Absence and Orders to the Hammer Lord
Walking a couple paces apart from each other, Veryacano and Tindir continued climbing the steep path uphill. Travelling light but well dressed, they passed swiftly and unnoticed through Eregion, a land they had fought together on against the enemy before, and a mighty battle it was. That was when Tindir kept an overwhelming enemy force stalled with his small company and had evaded open battle, giving time to the rest of the forces to organize a joint effort. In the end, the battle was won and Tindir had proven that he was worthy of command. Memories of such past battles in their minds, now they made their way to mountain pass of Caradhras. It was likely that the pass was closed due to heavy snowfall but the two Hammer Lords were confident they would somehow find passage. The first snowfall was light, but as they climbed higher and higher, it became heavier and was now ankle deep. Veryacano pulled his fur lined cloak around him. He usually travelled with his great hammer slung on his back but now and then he’d use it like a walking staff, to ease the burden on his legs. Rarely the two elves talked on the way, both were occupied in their thoughts. They kept their words until the evening, when they shared the campfire and the food.
Climbing that path to the pass, all there was to hear was each other’s steps on the snow and the whispering light wind. Unexpectedly around midday, they heard hurried steps on snow, coming closer and closer. Soon after, none other than the Hound of the Order Daegond appeared, out of breath with a travel pack on his back. Hound was the messenger of the Order and he would deliver the most important and urgent messages of the Lords of Vanimar and he was also aide to the Hammer Lord.
‘‘Ai! Lord Veryacano!’’ Daegond shouted feverish.
Veryacano glanced at Tindir, who seemed quite startled. ‘‘Hound, what are you doing here? You should be back in the Valley.'’ Veryacano said.
Daegond finally reached them, putting his hands on his knees he struggled to speak, still out of breath: ‘‘Lord… A letter… For you… Its urgent!’’
‘‘Give it here.’’ Veryacano extended one hand, leaning on his great hammer with the other.
Daegond hesitantly pulled the sealed letter from his pack and handed it to the Hammer Lord. Veryacano ripped open the letter and started reading it. Tindir watched him silently and Daegond seemed grim.
As his eyes shifted from one line to the other, Hammer Lord’s brows rose. He folded the letter and stared into the snowy ground for a long moment. Then, offering it to Tindir he said in a voice of ice: ‘‘Congradulations Lord.’’
Tindir took the letter idly and started reading it. Falling snow melted on the parchment and started smudging the gracefully ink written words. By the time he finished it, an expression of shock was visible on his face. He stared up at Veryacano, speechless.
But Veryacano’s face was an enigma. Tindir and Daegond looked upon his face and they wondered if it was a deep sadness, disappointment or relief they saw there. One thing was certain, the never falling shoulders of the warrior were now low and upright stature of the proud elf was marred. Without offering a word, the once Hammer Lord Veryacano took his hammer comfortably on his shoulder and started tracing his steps downhill. Daegond and Tindir exchanged glances for a while and soon after they would follow in his tracks, back to the Valley of Imladris.
