Something kept gnawing at her. Something that wouldn’t let her go. And while she was acting as the scout in the North Downs region, she began to look for answers. She asked endless questions. Who would remember events from eight years passed? But eventually it turned out that people hadn’t forgotten about Poppy. Finally Hellrien met people who remembered her. And after almost eight weeks since Blue Nose had appointed her for scouting duties for The Bloody Dawn she found Poppy in Lin Giliath, a small elven settlement north of Meluinen, where the north-going road for Othrikar begins.
She arrived in town in the morning of what the elves call Valanya, or Tárion, and she could hear the ringing of the bells from afar. It was a beautiful village with paved main street and white, gold ornate arches, anemone and grapevine growing in the yards. Elves walked in small groups across the arch bridge towards a lofty, elegant building.
Hellrien steered her horse towards the tower to the north side of the courtyard. There were three towers in total, each adjoined with a white and golden wall. Each of the towers had big bells aloft, and each of the bells were being tolled to summon the townsfolk into the main tower in the west for some unknown ceremony. She saw nothing resembling benches or stools anywhere, so she sat down in front of a huge pot plant and filled the chamber of her pipe. A couple of female elves turned their heads as they walked by and stared at her with their dark, curious eyes.
Hellrien smiled at them, absently and uncertainly. She always felt uncertain in the presence of elves.
An hour later the elves exited the tall building. The bells rang again, possibly to honor the Valar in this day the elves had named after them. Hellrien stood by the pot plant. She noticed the woman at once. Poppy was shorter than the elves, and her chestnut brown hair shone in the sunlight. She was wearing a simple blue-grey gown and something that resembled a book was sticking from beneath her arm.
For a while the elves stood around her, then they started to disperse. She started to walk across the courtyard. Hellrien strode towards her.
The woman saw Hellrien approaching and stopped.
Hellrien took off her hat.
”Miss Cranes?” she said quietly.
Calm, blue-grey eyes met with her own.
”I have been expecting you”, the woman said softly. ”The news travel here too, slow as it may be.”
”My name is Hellrien.”
”I know that. You have come a long way, miss Hellrien.”
Hellrien said: ”Would you like to talk with me?”
”That is alright with me.”
The woman kept going, and Hellrien rushed after her. Hellrien noticed that all passers-by smiled at the woman. But they regarded her with unease.
”Do you live here, miss Cranes?”
”I do. I have lived here for almost six years already.”
There was a low white and golden house on the outskirts of the village. It stood out from the others for it’s covered terrace and large windows. The woman had planted bushes and flowers around the house.
She beckoned Hellrien to step inside. The door was open. The living room was light and airy. The furniture was typical elvish design, elegant and sophisticated. There were flowers everywhere.
”I have wine, miss Hellrien. Do you want it? Later we can have dinner.”
”I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
The woman smiled. ”Trouble? You are the first of my own race I have spoken to in three years.”
A little later they sat in the shadow of the terrace. Hellrien felt uncomfortable. Her dusty cloak and heavy hauberk and weapons felt downright sacrilegious in this peaceful environment. For the environment was peaceful. The whole village exuded deep peace.
She said carefully: ”You said you have heard the news?”
”Yes. I know that he’s dead. And my father. But…”
”Maria will pull through. Ray never harmed her.”
”That is good to hear. That poor woman has gone through enough. She can’t be blamed for what happened.”
Hellrien moved restlessly.
”What do you want to ask? There’s nothing you can say to offend me.”
”I never understood Ray.”
”Who could have understood him? He was born in this world an outsider – not a man, not an orc, but something in between. Outsider in all worlds, shunned by everyone. I don’t know what became of him in the end, but he wasn’t bad in the beginning. I mean, he tried to be good, the best he could. But there were so precious few who he could call a friend in this world. So few who tried to understand him. We did have another childhood friend in Trestlebridge, did you know that?”
”No.”
”Another outsider. John came to Trestlebridge in a small cart from Bree when I and Ray were still small. His father was lame. He learned from an early age what it felt like to be a laughing stock for everyone. We were the best of friends for a time, John, Ray and me. They even made a blood oath at one time. They cut heir hands with a knife and clasped them together and swore they were blood brothers forever – the families of Cranes and Crambe united!”
”Crambe?”
”Yes. His name was John Crambe. His family moved out of Trestlebridge when we were still children.”
And suddenly the last pieces of the puzzle fit together. Why Crambe had managed to establish trust with the Sheltons so quickly. Because they knew him of old! But why had Hellrien not known this before?
Because she had never asked, that’s why! And why would have Maria told it to her anyway – to a woman she barely knew? She probably regretted telling the story of Ray to her the moment after doing so. But why had she never told it even after Crambe had taken her to Ray?
What had happened in that orc camp between Maria and Ray?
Those were questions that would never get answered. Hellrien tasted the wine.
”Why have you decided to stay here?”
The woman smiled. Hellrien noticed that her canines were a little protruding. They made her smile appear almost bestial.
”This is my home. I serve as a librarian in the library of Tham Giliath. I am also a scholar in the ways of the Eldar.”
”Is that enough?”
The woman looked at Hellrien. Hellrien regretted her question.
”Shall we walk a little?”
Hellrien stood up.
The woman stepped towards the library. There was a small grave in front of the southern tower. Hellrien’s throat felt dry. The woman walked to the shadow of a big potted plant. A small marble plate was clearly visible through the green grass. In the plate was a name – a girl’s name – and a year.
”Ray’s daughter”, said Poppy. ”And mine. She died three years ago.”
