The map had made no mention of this place. A looming stone shape stood before him, dark and forbidding. He dismounted carefully from the bay mare, ensuring his boots made as little noise as possible on the loose scree outside the squat ruin. He whispered a word of caution to the tired horse, patting her mane as he did so.
Drawing his sword from the plain leather scabbard at his side, he stalked up the shallow incline towards the dark entrance of the grey stone structure. As he drew nearer, it became clear that the building had been a small fort of some kind, probably constructed to stand guard over the long-abandoned path that he had been following. The walls looked tall and strong, though some great violence had split the stone apart. He reached the wide doorway and peered into the darkness.
The front entrance was all that was left of the small fort, for the roof had fallen in and was spread over the flagstones. Three of the walls were crumbled to almost nothing, leaving only the front wall standing. One wall and a pile of rubble would be better shelter against the cold night air than nothing however. Estarfin sheathed his sword and walked back to the nervous-looking horse. "Come, there is nothing to fear here" he told her, and bid the animal follow him into the old fort. They picked their way over some of the larger pieces of grey masonry until they reached the most sheltered part of the building, between the front wall and a heaped pile of rubble. Estarfin unbuckled the baggage from the horse and dumped it against the wall before bending down and rummaging through the bags. Pulling out a small sack of grain, he emptied a fistful into the horse's nosebag and strapped it around her head. He then quickly ran a stiff brush over her to clean off the worst of the dust and dirt.
Leaving her to her meal, he began walking towards the remnants of a stone staircase in the corner. Climbing it carefully he came to a ledge with a window. The glass was gone except for a few shards in the corners, but it allowed him a view down the slope towards the river. Night was falling; long shadows crept over the sparse woodland that covered the slope down towards the Mitheithel. The bridge that spanned that river had been the last place that he recognised on this journey, for he had once accompanied Lord Veryacano with the Hammers to that mighty stone crossing. That seemed a great span of years ago to the weary warrior as he remembered the comrades he had marched with. In these unfamiliar lands he was reliant upon a rolled-up map and the unwillingly-given directions that he had been given in the library of Elrond.
*****
"Yes?" came a sharp voice suddenly in the dim light of the library, surprising Estarfin as he bent over the large map. He looked around, seeing the pale, disapproving face of Talkale watching him from the end of the row. "Ah. Lord Estarfin, I did not realise it was you. What are you doing here so late? May I be of assistance?" the abrupt change in tone would perhaps have brought a small smile to the face of Estarfin in different circumstances. Talkale walked towards him, stopping a respectful distance away.
"Talkale. I have not seen you for many moons. You have been hiding here, out of sight of the House?" Estarfin asked.
"I do not hide, I work. 'Lord Ambassador' Parnard made his feelings on my place clear, so I chose to choose my own place. Now that he is gone, I find that I am still more comfortable here than out there, mingling with such... fine Lords and Ladies." Talkale spoke through a smile of gritted teeth.
"Very well. I am not hiding either. This..." he indicated the map before him "is my purpose this night. Indeed, it may actually be to do with Parnard. Or perhaps not. There are two paths from this place that I must consider. The road to the east, and the road to the west. There is a choice before me and I would know more of both before I decide..."
*****
As the whistling shrill of the wind broke his reverie, he raised an eyebrow as he thought. There had been a third choice of course. He could have remained within the confines of Imladris and hoped for the safe return of his friends. Nirhen had shown her contempt for him, again denying any friendship between them. Ruineth had run from him when he had told her the truth of who he was, and he still heard the fear and mistrust in her voice when she spoke to him. Their paths had diverged from his.
He was faced with a simple decision, as he had been many times throughout his long life. To remain alone, or to follow his friends. Parnard had departed eastwards towards the Greenwood to marry his betrothed. Danel had taken the trail westwards, towards Angmar in search of answers and perhaps a treasure once thought lost. Parnard did not need him, for he had been accompanied by warriors and friends on his journey. Would Danel need him? It was unlikely as she had not set out alone, but in fine company. Both of his friends had asked him to follow and finally he had decided. He would follow Danel to the land of Angmar and test his broken body against the crude steel of Men
