I left Estarfin and Earcalië catching up on news as they sat on the sands. It was time to bring out at least some provisions, and most definitely time to bring out some wine. I walked to the kitchen, where Estarfin had left the large basket he had brought from the local inn. Yes, there were fresh bread sticks in it, sliced meat, roast boar and several pieces of roast chicken. There was a selection of local cheeses, some of which I had never tried, two fruit pies - apple and blackberry and strawberry and rhubarb, by the look and smell of them. There were a few pots of butter, a covered jug of cream, and bunches of grapes. And finally, there was a large jar of pickled samphire. It was a goodly feast for us all. I put some of most of the selection on a large filigree tray, adding three glasses and knives and two opened bottles of wine. I could always return for more. I hesitated by the door to take up a large blanket and fold it over one arm.
Carefully balancing the tray, I headed back to the beach. The horses whinnied to me as I passed. Though I minded not attending to them, it made me realise how accustomed I had become to Barahirn’s helpful presence back home.
Estarfin looked up and smiled at me. “We must have more time than I thought, then,” he was saying to Earcalië.
“I don’t really heed rumour mills…” she replied.
“Will you take the blanket from me, meldanya? We should get a little less sand in our food.”
Estarfin was on his feet in an instant. “Of course.” He did a passable job of laying the blanket out, getting it mostly flat with not much sand on it.
I placed the tray atop the blanket and began passing round glasses and knives, and placing the food where it could be easily reached.
“Help yourself to whatever you like,” I said, taking up a red wine and offering to pour.
“White wine for me, please.” Earcalië pointed at the other bottle. I poured for her first, then the red for Estarfin and me.
“Is the food sufficient,” Estarfin asked as he took his glass of wine.
I smiled back at him. “I suspect so. There are some fish and dill tartlets and half a rabbit pie in the house from yesterday if there is not. My thanks to you.”
“I had intended baked potatoes with stewed venison in a blackberry sauce, and a boiled egg pie. It went …wrong.”
I lay a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. There was no need to guess who the boiled egg pie was intended for. He was a good cook with stews and simpler recipes, and not adverse to trying something new. “You brought us a princely selection. I am sure we will enjoy it.”
There was a sudden call of greeting. We three turned in its direction. There was Parnard, strolling down the beach towards us, holding a small net full of shells in his hand. We waved to him.
“There you are, cousin. I am glad you could join us.”
“See the great number of shells I have found,” he said, dumping them out upon the sand. “But what brings Earcalië to the coast?”
“Well, good to see you too, hale and whole,” the young nis replied.
“As you can see, we were about to start a meal. Please sit down and join us.”
Now Estarfin had originally got enough supplies for the three of us, not knowing Earcalië would be there. Yet he had got sufficient that it was likely enough for all. I had extra in the house, and extra wine. All was well.
Earcalië answered Parnard’s question. “A bird told me to come here because there were lovebirds chirping so loudly that I would soon hear them”
“The news is spreading,” he laughed. “It was fated, so it is no great surprise.”
Estarfin and I exchanged glances. Were we loud? I thought not. I thought in truth only our friends back at Númenstáya knew. I offered my glass and knife to Parnard. I could always get replacements from the house.
My ‘cousin’ shook his head and retrieved his eating knife from his boot where he kept it. “I left my cup at the inn, lest I annoy the proprietor,” he explained. “But I can drink straight from the bottle.” He laughed again.
I was casting a critical eye over his display of shells, searching for what might make the best pieces of jewellery for the young ones, when Earcalië said, “Better news of the wedding spreads than news of your kidnapping, of which I am curious and utterly shocked that such a thing could happen at all!”
We paused in the middle of helping ourselves to the food, distracted by the sudden remark. It was not going to be the merriest of meals, but I did understand our guest’s interest.
“I told Earcalië a little about our past year, Cousin,” I told Parnard. “It was to explain where we were, and why the wedding ended up a little short of time for planning.”
I handed him the opened second bottle of red wine. “Be sure to drink enough. You have been out most of the day..”
He took the bottle with an appreciative nod. “Shelling and talking with that barkeep is thirsty work, indeed.”
“I only brought the two varieties of wine, although there are others in the house. I could bring out some ‘swimming wine’, if we have any intention of entering the water?”
Parnard smiled, and seemingly lost in a pleasant memory, nibbled on a piece of fruit, and said nothing.
Meanwhile, Estarfin was busy making himself a sandwich with a variety of fillings, but he looked over and laughed. “I am not garbed for swimming this day. Maybe another time, before we return home.”
Earcalië glanced at me. I could see the question in her eyes before she asked it. “Swimming wine?”
“It is a fancy of Estarfin’s. There was a wine back in our days in Thargelion that many referred to as ‘swimming wine’. It was drunk in copious amounts by those swimming in Lake Helevorn, Estarfin included. He still associates it with swimming.”
He smiled and nodded. “Red is normally preferred, but white is better in the water.”
In turn I raised my glass. “To all here. May the year ahead be a merry one.”
Earcalië raised her glass. “Hear, hear!”
“Hark to the waters, cool and clear, where the sun, Anar, sets them agleam,” Parnard sang out.
“May the year pass without fear or sorrow,” Estarfin spoke in Quenya, and completed the toasting.
Our guest had placed a few items of food on her plate, but she looked thoughtful rather than hungry. “I do not want you to recall bad memories, but could you tell me in shortened form what happened last year?”
Parnard stuffed the bottle of wine in the sand before him, and looked up. “I can begin the account, cousin.”
“Please,” I nodded back to him, sensing Estarfin’s gaze resting on me.
Clearing his throat, Parnard began. “It seemed a nice enough evening; the stars were bright on the path from Celondim-town, and we were in deep discussion about Dwarves’ pearl necklaces and other fashions of their kind; when all of a sudden a tumult of men fell upon us…led by one…” He waved a hand, “Who was that ill-bred, loutish leader, Cousin?”
I had certainly not forgotten any of the Men’s names, and particularly not that of their lazy bully of a leader.
“Jexson, you mean.”
“Yes, that is it! That uncouth-sounding utterance. Their names would not be so hard to remember if they were not so strange.”
Estarfin was scowling now. I knew he would have dearly wished to end that ruffian’s life.
“The Men were all alike. Unmannered, cowardly save in a group, free with their kicks and shoves. Yet they were but Men, and Parnard and I would have overcome them, had they not the two Halflings as hostages.”
I was fast losing my own appetite, as I began recalling those dark days. Instinctively I moved to sit a little closer to Estarfin, bringing only my wine with me. If I was pained by memories, he probably was as well. “If you hurt, then I hurt,” we had both said to the other on that later pursuit for Parnard’s captors. Not that I ever wished that kidnapping to happen, yet being forced to consider losing each other again had drawn us ever closer.
“Oh, yes, the Halflings! The Men threatened to harm them if we did not surrender. Then they tied us up and took us to a port plump full of surly Dwarves,” Parnard continued. His appetite did not seem affected by the retelling as he picked up a handful of grapes and began to munch upon them.
“Dourhand Dwarves, at the Port of Kheledûl,” I added.
“Whereabouts we were transported over the upper reaches of the River Lhun…eventually, after the Men caught me. I had nearly swum clear to Duillond.”
I folded my hands in my lap and lowered my head, as the memories flooded back. “Parnard kept escaping,” I whispered. “That is why they were so harsh with him. He never gave up.” I reached out for the comfort of Estarfin’s hand. “I did not want the Halflings harmed, you see. I would have tried to escape as well. But those Men threatened them, and dragged them about. I knew them, we knew them, from the nearby village of Tighfield. They were captives because of us.”
“I saw the spires reflected in the water–but the men had a rowboat, and so gave pursuit. They dragged me back, and up the river we were flown– er, shipped, transported–” Parnard sighed, and drank more wine from the bottle.
Estarfin gave my hand a small squeeze of encouragement. “Those Dourhands rued the day they aided in your capture.”
I smiled at him. “Estarfin, Yrill, Ceuro and Captain Culufinnel, Parnard’s brother, gave pursuit,” I explained to Earcalië.
“Not swiftly enough.” Estarfin finished his wine, and looked darkly into his empty glass.
Then it was my turn to offer comfort to Estarfin. I would not have him brooding over a matter that ended well. “Meldanya, you found us. You saved my life.” I squeezed his hand and then refilled his wine. “Parnard, Earcalië?”
Earcalië nodded. “More white, please.”
Parnard shook the half-full bottle at me. Of course he had no glass.
“Halflings?” the young nis asked.
“Yes. We know a few quite well. We got to know the two captives. Miss Henepa and Master Gaisarix, a little better, though they were mostly kept apart from us.”
“We were taken to the ruins of an old Mannish city. Annúminas is its name, although I did not know it at the time,” Parnard continued. “And from there we were whisked over the North Downs and into Angmar. That is when I began to be concerned, Cousin Danel.”
