”How much do they pay you?”
Hellrien leaned forward and emptied the last dash of mulled wine into the fire. She looked at Burwod through the steam.
”Enough to make a decent living”, she replied dismissively.
Burwod had heard this tone of voice from Hellrien before. It meant that she had made up her mind and that there was nothing more to discuss about the matter.
”You know that’s not a challenge, right? Guarding caravans?” Burwod said after a moment of silence.
”There may be more challenging jobs in the future.”
Then they were quiet.
They had picked their campsite well – there was shelter, there was water nearby and Falathlorn was only a day’s ride away.
The fire went out and stars crept up on the blue velvet sky. Suddenly it became cold.
Hellrien lied awake for a good while under her blanket, thinking about Burwod, pondering what he had meant with his questions. What was he planning? Was he trying to carry on his father’s work – try to build up the Brotherhood from scratch?
If that was his intention, Hellrien couldn’t be part of it. Not the way as before. Things were different now – things had changed. She had made a commitment. She had given her word. The Bloody Dawn had put a lot of effort and resources into getting her out of the very disadvantageous deal with The Network, and Hellrien owed them more than just a ’thanks for help, see ya ’round, ta!’. She was bound by her word, she was bound by her honor. Burwod could always rely on Hellrien as a friend, but if he wanted to start the Brotherhood anew he was too late, at least as far as Hellrien was concerned. She had another thing going on in her life now.
She remembered the curious looks in the Dawnhall when she had asked for a couple of weeks off for ’personal reasons’. She had been seen in the Pony with Burwod, and no doubt the rumor mill had been grinding. They would have been understandably curious about what was going on with their fresh recruit and the stranger. Everybody knew she had a colorful past, and she had told Taala the basics about her story, but she wasn’t very forthcoming with the details. Hellrien didn’t like talking about her private stuff to anyone. Her comrades in arms in the Dawnhall considered Hellrien somewhat reserved and a little odd; she was difficult to get to know to. But most people in this line of work were a little funny in the head, so she didn’t stand out much from the rest of the crew.
Taala had agreed to her request, but at the same note she had offered Hellrien a contract – a regular caravan job to Stock and back, 2-3 times a month. But if she wanted it, she would need to be back within two weeks, or she would give it to somebody else. Hellrien needed to talk the details with a merchant called Colewulf in Bree. Hellrien had accepted the contract – she was sure she could make it to Falathlorn and back within two weeks.
Five days after the conversation with Taala Hellrien and Burwod rode into a small elven village called Celos Rothui. It was a little way off from the main road, so two mannish riders, armed to their teeth, naturally aroused attention of the locals. However, elves were very good at hiding it. It appeared as if nobody paid no mind to their sudden arrival, and the few elves they saw never gave them another glance. But Hellrien couldn’t shake the feeling that at least dozen pairs of eyes were following their every move from hiding, likely accompanied by sharp arrows aimed to their necks. Or did the residents of this village know and remember Burwod still? How long had it been since he had been here last?
But these are elves, Hellrien reminded herself. A decade is but a blink of an eye for them.
”You said you have been here before”, Burwod said.
”I have, but not in this village.”
”I spent my youth here”, said Burwod, ”after we moved from Rivendell.”
”It’s beautiful”, Hellrien commented. And it was. Elves had a great sense of beauty. They had invented music and poetry, languages and words, and they had innate talent for learning and crafting. They also possessed infinite love for the beauty of nature, timeless and unaging just like them. All this was reflected in their ornate architectural style, dominated by curves instead of straight lines, dynamic, organic and rich with decorations, usually stylized, graceful and elegant.
They rode up on a ledge and paused their horses for a while to marvel the breathtaking view that opened up before them. River Lune streamed calmly across the valley to their left. On the floor of the valley, nestled against the rockface, there stood a large estate, like a mansion. Burwod stared at the house for a long time, seemingly lost in memories.
”Home…”
”Is that the house where you grew up, Burwod?”
”Yes…”
”It’s beautiful.”
”It has seen better days”, Burwod said wryly and spurred on his horse. Hellrien followed. When they arrived in the big yard, Burwod dismounted his horse, walked on to touch a pillar and sighed. Now that they were closer Hellrien could see the signs of incipient decay of an abandoned home. Grass was long and growing weed, paint was peeling off the walls. Hellrien stepped down from her own horse and followed Burwod as he circled around the house to the back.
When Burwod stopped to stare at the rockface, Hellrien halted, hesitating. Maybe all the memories were too much for Burwod and he needed a moment alone to compose himself. But then he touched the stone, as if looking for something. He pressed a spot in the stone and part of the wall opened, revealing a dark cavity. Hellrien’s curiosity peaked and she walked closer to look over Burwod’s shoulder. ”What’s that?”
There was a big, ornate wooden coffer in the hollow. Burwod opened the coffer and looked inside.
”Good, everything is here.”
”What is it?”
”Before we left for the battle I left many of my things here, including all my money, some clothes, my grandfather’s books… and the Family Crest.”
Burwod removed his dented armor and tattered clothing and changed into a new outfit, a dark but intricate leather armor, with a single piece of plate armor strapped on his right shoulder.
”What are you going to do now?” Hellrien queried.
”Start again.” Burwod started picking up things from the coffer and putting them in his satchel. When the coffer was empty, he placed his dented and tattered armor in it. ”Thank you for coming with me, Hellrien.”
”Are you going to continue with what your father began?”
”I have nowhere to begin.”
”Then what?”
”I don’t know. I suppose I could try to build a life in Bree.”
”That’s a good place to start over.”
”What will I do then?” Burwod asked, looking at Hellrien.
”I don’t know. Got any plans?”
”A friend suggested I could apply for the Watch.”
”That’s one option.”
”Do I look like a watchman to you, Hellrien?”
Hellrien shrugged. ”It’s something I considered myself at one point. Maybe you could try to apply for the Dawn?”
”Is it good?”
”They’re not a bad lot, from what I’ve seen.”
Burwod turned his eyes to the hole in the wall. ”I am forgetting something important.”
He knelt in front of the coffer and rubbed it’s inner walls with his hand. He pressed a little slab, opening a secret compartment. From the compartment he drew out a small book and a little pouch. He showed the pouch to Hellrien.
”Do you know what this is, Hellrien?”
”No. What is it?”
”Mithril.”
”Ooh!” Hellrien responded. Mithril was very expensive – even a small pouch like that was worth a fortune.
”Here I have just enough to forge a dagger.”
”For a reason, or just to do something?” Hellrien asked.
”Nothing in particular. Let’s move on, it’s getting late.”
”Alright.”
They walked to the yard and mounted their horses. Before leaving for Bree Burwod wanted to visit Duillond, the bustling elven city nearby. They visited the markets up in the terraces, where Burwod made a deal for a couple of female elvish robes with a merchant. Hellrien wondered why – did Burwod have a sweetheart somewhere? In Bree? He also had a chat with a house broker. Hellrien gathered he was selling his house in Celos Rothui.
”We are done here”, Burwod said.
”Alright. Where to next?”
”Back to Bree.”
