Parnard twisted the paper in his clenched hand. I will be far away by the time you read this – it began apologetically, and ended with the strictness of admonitions not to follow. How was he going to explain this fresh madness to Lord Anglachelm? He crumpled the letter up. Lady Danel could do what she liked, as she always did. "Oh, Estarfin!" he sighed, looking sorrowfully out the window, "the snow will fall thick to-night." It was the dawning of the third day, and the time passed wearily, with each sound making him look up. Each time, Parnard sighed and bent his melancholy face over his work again: and it was late in the evening before he put down his pen and wandered to the house.
The Hall of Fire was, as usual, very warm and comfortable, its long table festooned with ivy leaves and winterberries. In the Hall, the worn and weary mingled with the young and thoughtless. There Parnard crept, and wordlessly sat down by the side of the vintner with the intent of keeping up the appearance of happiness.
And what of Belegos?
He found it hard to answer Eliriael. She never murmured, though she seemed to fade before him like light on a summer evening, and left all his horizon dark. He could provide no comfort. She was ever patient, submissive and gentle: when she laughed, it was a like a music of rain, and when she spoke, she spoke from her heart. Parnard knew she loved the missing scout, he heard it in her voice. And what did he tell her? That Belegos disappeared and left her dark!
The wind swept through the fir and pine-covered hills of the Valley, and the trees shivered in the gale, and raised a rushing and wailing in their branches. There was a deep hoarse sound in the distance – thunder. He lifted his head at the dismal sound.
Parnard imagined that he could hear boughs snapping in the gale. Snow hissed as the wind blew it in deep drifts down the cleft. Sometimes, travelers were so nearly blinded by snowstorms that they would lose their way.
At first Parnard thought Limiriel might turn back and decide to wait for the storm to abate. Once he thought he saw something moving in the distance, but it was only a fox. When five hours had gone by, and he saw no sign of her, he turned his footsteps back to the house, feeling cheated. There was the stone marker just at the end of the path. He could not see the lights from the Valley. And he could scarcely hear anything over the howling wind. But somehow, Limiriel said she would find Estarfin. If she could find him.
A second day passed, but it did not bring Limiriel, only the soft grey evening night - alas for the short winter days! Then he thought he might never set eyes on Lord Estarfin again, and the few words said to him were the last. In vain, he had entreated Estarfin to share wine, but he refused his friendly invitation; he refused all company with the Ambassador after the trial. Parnard sighed as he gazed at the glass in his hand, thinking of what drove him from the Valley. Out he went, when he knew he must not go. Ill-tempered was he, a real meathead, and he should not think so much of it. The wood-elf consoled himself by saying, “All will be well when Lord Estarfin returns, he will not leave us long in this way, I am sure: he will soon be returned, and then we shall see.”
