It was strange..the shadow was gone.
Fairlain gazed up at the hazy outline of Weathertop as Daysey trudged steadily along the dusty road. The memories were there whole and vivid; how she had been taken there a prisoner, how she had fallen into the darkness, but they no longer clawed at her as they had before. It was as though it were a sad and terrible story that had happened to someone else.
Her eyes roved over the parched and yellowed hills that surrounded her. That had not changed. To her left stood the Arnorian ruins that had been over-run with foul spiders and beyond that glowed the fires of the orc-spawn that lurked in the higher regions. No matter. That was not her task today. If they travelled steadily it would be possible to glimpse the Forsaken Inn by the time the first of the evening stars unveiled their light. She leaned forward, speaking softly and urged Daysey to a trot, letting the reins of the soft, bitless bridle rest on the neck of the little mare. It was too conspicuous to ride in elven fashion now that Fairlain was in the lands inhabited by the Forsaken Men.
The hills rose and fell before her, and it was not long before weathertop was left far behind. Daysey had slowed to a walk once more. Fairlain winced as an unmistakable odor reached her nostrils....goblins. Her eyes scanned the hillside. There were none in sight but they were close. Daysey tossed her head and quickened her pace once again. The Inn was not that far now, an hour at most. Fairlain spoke a calming word to the little horse who settled once again into a steady walk. It was then that she heard a soft groan coming from a little below the roadside.
"Daro, pinig." Fairlain slipped to the ground as Daysey came to a stop. She took the bow of the Galadhrim from her shoulder and reached for an arrow from the quiver on her back. Setting the shaft in place, she walked towards the sound on silent feet. Slightly below the pathway's edge lay an injured man. She cast a cautious glance around her, then knelt to see how badly the man was hurt. He wore clothes of the same fashion as the men of Ost Guruth, but they were badly torn and his cloak had been ripped to shreds as though by many small blades. Goblins, and no mistake. The man bore a number of knife wounds upon his body and arms, but the worst of his hurts came from a gash upon his head. He was barely conscious.
"Wake, wake...can you stand?" The man groaned in reply, blinking his eyes and making a strong effort to raise his head and upper body. Fairlain placed her bow to one side and did what she could to help him, moving him into a sitting position where he stayed, his arms trembling and his head lolling weakly. This man needed aid...quickly. Fairlain gave a low whistle and Daysey came obediently. With a word in her ear, the gold and white horse very carefully dropped to one knee and stayed there until Fairlain was able to lever the man to his feet and guide him over to where the horse waited. After slowly and carefully helping the man into the saddle Fairlain patted the steed on the shoulder, and she pushed herself to all fours once again. The man kept his seat, though he groaned in pain and bent over the horses neck. Fairlain thought a moment, then reached for a small, silver box of dwarvish fashion she wore behind the sheaths of her long-handled knives. Among the elves there was no need of coin, but Dwimmer had always told her to keep a few pieces of silver with her at all times. Sensible advice from a sensible dwarf.
"Here, take this...it may help if they are not willing to give aid freely." She pressed it into the man's hand and he closed his fingers around it. "You must ride to the Inn."
"Thank you," he said weakly, his face covered in blood from the wound in his head. Fairlain placed her hand upon the mare's neck.
"Ride fast, Daysey." The ears twitched and the little horse started away, slowly at first then quickening the pace as the injured man found his balance.
Fairlain watched them draw away a moment before taking up her bow once again. Since she was on foot, she would hunt on foot. The foul creatures would not hurt another. She quickly found a trail in the yellowed grasses and began to follow. It would not take long. She quickened her pace, as well.
