Remiss have I become in my tale, for we have been most occupied of late with goblin incursions north of the lands of the Perianeth, with increase in patrols of the north road in Ered Luin, and with growing concern regarding the unwholesome stone near the village of Oatbarton. It is of recent matters I should write – indeed, have I not a report to craft for our Hirgonui most urgently. But before I speak of our foray concerning the stone, I will finish what I began. I will continue the account of my initial training with the Ethiriath both because it is proper that I should so do – and because Culir was again in my company for a short time. And I find I have missed my mentor in the skills of the wild greatly.
Whatever doom we face in these strange and unnerving times, we do so in the company of those we hold dear. For my part I find courage from my brothers and sisters that I am become more purposeful in protecting that which we all love. It is in thinking of them, and of Lindon, that my own thoughts are refreshed that I may strive to my utmost in the giving of aid and advice. How else should it be for us? We are not as the servants of the Dark Lord that each work for their own good alone – indeed not!
Now Istuir and I rode from Thamas Lorn to meet with Culir at Echad Rond, before venturing to investigate the fell stone, as I had been permitted so to do by Curugirion. A short time we spent in that place (that I love nigh as much as my home), that we discussed what little we knew and made preparations – I trusting to the experience of my two companions in the skills of safe travel, and they to my small knowledge of Lore, that I may find something hitherto overlooked about the stone. And I sat by the small campfire, while Istuir kept guard, and Culir made ready for the journey ahead. As I watched the heavy rainfall through the mouth of the cave, my thoughts returned to the first I visited this place.
~ ~ ~ ~
Echad Rond; it has something about it that brings peace to my spirit. Did it not do so when I first visited? Aiieee – I believe its beauty and calm would heal most hurts. Not that I arrived that rainy evening with any great harm, but I had been carrying a burden of sorrow hitherto unknown to myself. Not understanding why I was so afflicted, I had sought to bury the thoughts and emotions within – was there not enough to do without pondering aimlessly! But in that retreat, amongst the creatures of the wild again, and in the company of one who understood – my pain, for what it was worth, was drawn forth, that I was healed.
Now on that first eve, Linnethril and I passed into a narrow ravine; high grey rocks rising above us, the roots and twisted branches of old trees darkly visible against the sky. I was tired, leaning upon my staff as we broached the incline almost as if it were a mere walking stick. The rain had not abated, the sky promised more to come. So reaching Echad Rond was most welcome to me.
At the end of the ravine the path split in two; two entrances – or exits if need arose. At the very end was a large, warm cave. A bear cave in times past I deemed it to be, and sign there still was of some occupation by our ursine friends. My mind drew forth the memory of first encountering Gli not so many miles from this place – and she having had an unfortunate adventure with the remains of a Perian’s meal. I smiled at that thought.
The cave mouth, though not overlarge, led to a substantial darkened area that, from the soft echo of our horses’ hooves sounded as if it went back into the hillside a fair distance. All was still. All was silent apart from the breathing of our mounts, and the occasional swish of their tails – the steady sound of rain against the rock and ground, and a faint whistling in the trees. Echad Rond appeared deserted. (Though later was I to realise this was oft the case least any over-adventurous traveller of the small folk ventured upon it and knew it for what it truly was – a place where the edhil could keep watch, and guard the boundaries of their land and their way of life.)
Linnethril led her horse into the cave, bidding her wait just inside. After placing her weapons – her longbow and sword carefully on the floor a little further in, she returned to remove the pack, saddle and harness. As my eyes swiftly grew accustomed to the near absence of light, I did likewise. My small, but precious, travel bag was set aside my staff, and I saw first to the needs of Tinnu.
“Welcome to Echad Rond, Aearlinn” Linnethril spoke, as we both filled our cupped hands with water from our water skins for our horses. (We had stopped but an hour earlier by a stream that our mounts could drink their fill.) It was the first my friend had spoken above a faint whisper for some time, that her voice seemed to rebound loudly in the confined space, though her tone was but normal. She smiled, and relaxed somewhat that, in the little starlight from the opening, she was the merry maid who loved bright gowns and fair adornments for her hair, rather than the honed and focused sentinel. “ Our presence has been noted by our scouts”, she gestured with a nod to the barely visible cliff tops. “In fact Culir has been watching us since we first made the assent.” She chuckled, “Come out of hiding, my dear friend! I know you are here even if Aearlinn does not!”
We both turned to the far side of the cave, as a section of the shadow seemingly detached itself from the wall, taking on form of a dark haired ellon, tall and slender of build, and garbed in hues of brownish tone.
“Welcome indeed, Aearlinn!” said Culir in a genuine tone of greeting, with no small humour. “I have heard report of you.”
Now I had no idea how he came to be there. Of surety had I been that none were in the cave when we arrived – neither edhil nor beast! Neither had any crept past Linnethril and I as we tended to our horses – or so I had thought. But he was there nonetheless – a testament to my need for instruction in the arts of stealth and the detection of those would be hunters of my folk and myself.
Culir inclined his head to me in acknowledgement, then his attention swiftly turned to Linnethril, and the two greeted each other warmly as close friends of long standing.
It was not long before a fire had been lit, away from the entrance and any curious eyes, that we three sat together partaking of bread and cheeses from our supplies, and the mouth-watering smoked fish, which Culir provided. The fire shed enough light to glimpse the recess of the cave – only a few items were visible that any who did chance upon the place would think an incautious traveller had found a nights refuge from bad weather.
“Like the cave, our supplies are concealed,” Culir informed me as he placed a little more wood on the fire. “Aearandir will doubtlessly have shown you our method of storing essential food, drink and medicinal salves in the good earth?”
I had nodded in turn.
“And the tent,” he gestured briefly in the direction of the only real evidence of habitation, a small leather construction on willow wood, in which a few racks of fish were hung to smoke over glowing embers, “… is only standing when I or another are here for a little time. All is as the bears would have it most often.”
“The fish are as the bears would have it,” I had spoken a reply without my usual consideration in new company, and glanced almost apologetically to Culir, who only grinned slightly and nodded.
“The bears are ever our friends,” said he. “ Loyal guardians and keepers of our ‘secrets’ are they since the time of old Usal, and their war with the boars. I would not deny them a portion of our supplies.”
For an instant Culir’s storm grey eyes darkened in the fire glow and I saw that, although he had been most approachable of nature unto that point, there was a depth of determined coldness that would brook no ill-doing. He nodded a moment, and the mood softened again.
“Aye; that our folk gave aid to those cubs of his group who had been grievously injured was enough for that greatheart. His descendents in this place unswervingly honour his decision.”
“Speaking of bears, and of boars,” Linnethril delicately licked the last vestige of fish from her thumb, “We have the supplies of linen you requested so urgently, Culir. I heard from Aearandir that the boars have caused much damage at Echad Baranduin. Could our faithful guardian not deter them then?”
Culir flashed her a disgruntled glance, and handed over his final piece of smoked fish for her delectation.
“The faithful one there does all he can, but the boars are grown increasingly restless. They have done great damage to our supplies, rooting around and digging up the screens. The camp is all but useless to us until repairs are undertaken.”
My thoughts drifted somewhat at that point, I confess – back for a short time to Thamas Lorn and …but the warmth and food and sense of peace were taking their toll on one who was tired.
“Rest, Aearlinn.” Culir spoke softly, turning his attention from his conversation with Linnethril. “Tomorrow your training begins in earnest. You will need all your wits and skills about you!” He gestured to the back of the cave, where I had set out my few belongings.
I nodded, welcoming his suggestion. But I had yet something to do before I would rest my mind in the paths of memory.
“I shall meditate a while under the stars, and not disturb you both. Would that I could feel… sense the creatures and trees of this place that they know me as friend.”
Both Culir and Linnethril smiled at me.
“Already have you risen in my estimation, Aearlinn. Now; go and rest!” The expression on Culir’s face was one of amusement. I believe we liked each other then – he and I - a solid foundation between mentor and student that would endure.
“I shall be gone before dawn. I must journey east, towards the Weather Hills, and continue with my own patrols. But may it be that we meet again soon, and in happy circumstances.” Linnethril bowed her head to me, her face nigh radiating encouragement for my forthcoming training.
I removed myself from their company with a bow of my own head to each, and sat alone just outside the cave mouth while they continued their conversation – the last of the soft rain trickling down my upturned face. I knew the tale of the battle of the bears and the boars. Was not my own bear-friend, Gli, a many generationed descendent of Usal that she was loyal to me beyond question? At that thought I reached out to her, a soft rumbling sound from throat and mind that, if she were nearby, she would come. I thought also on the multitude of life in the surrounding lands, of the creatures and the trees, and even the small folk asleep in their beds in the village far below.
And finally as a warm, soft rumbling creature with a heart of gold, settled herself beside me, I allowed my mind to walk in a place beloved ...and that along the shore of the Great Sea……
