Araenion

We will move on at first light. I have no more time to give to Esteldin and its Wardens at present. We make for the Tinnunudir lake, set west beyond the burial mounds of the Wardens. Godric must make the best of it that he can. He will protest, but it is better to leave now than before he falls into futher folly with that girl. For me, a pleasure to see its cold waters again.

I cannot settle. There is something this evening, something ... It began after noon, as I walked along the lake shore, between the waters and the hills to the east. The birds began to fall silent. The air both heavy, as if resisting movement, yet chill. A sense of waiting ... of watching almost. Yes.. of watching. Though all is quiet I feel eyes upon me.

At dawn today I came over the low hills to Vallandur's camp, to see the lake spread north before me, the waters still iron dark - as yet untouched by the rising sun. What joy! My memories of him rose in me, like a flooding spring, of all the days I have spent by this lake... There is the old bee-tree, where my beesongs failed and we had to take a swift refuge in the lake from their stings... There is the warm rock where we sat, as the truth of his gift to me unravelled in my hands ... There is the waving sweet grassland where he first permitted me to touch the lines of care on his face...

A whole day! They are poor hunters, Araenion and Randir! How I shall tease them when they finally join me! I thought that with their shared skills they would have caught me now.

Silence at last ... now I am far away enough not to hear them. Finally, I can hear my own thoughts a little more. It seems clear now that I must return to Calenglad and tell him of my failure. Randir cannot or will not come east without permission from his lord... so north it is - whether to admit my failure or to gain his consent. Mayhap Calenglad will take this matter from me, mayhap I will be done of it and he can find a lesser task for me. It hurts, to admit defeat.

They are still arguing! I could bear it no longer, even with my hands over my ears ... I had to come away. From here I can still catch occasional words, vehement declarations, sudden exclamations. How can they do this? We were close, so very close to reaching an accord! Randir seemed almost agreed on coming east .. and now... now they have both ruined it. Araenion's return should have been a joy, Ranir coming east should have been an ease to my heart .. but now... now... I could cheerfully cast both of them into Midgewater's stinking mud.

The rain seems unending ... the horses restless as we wait, wait, wait. I am tired of this rocky cave, tired of the grey misty view, tired of waiting for Randir to return, tired of wondering where Araenion is. Where he is, what he is doing, whether he is hurt ... I know his bravery and his abilities, but always the worry. Sometimes their lives seem so fragile, and my hopes founded on sand ... and always, always seeing the tide approaching, waiting to wash this away forever.

It seems my dour companion has found his voice! I would like to think that it is the pleasure of my company that has warmed him, but I think it is because I remain the only company in this wilderness.

The breeze seems determined to have this paper from me this evening. There, I see Randir disappearing around the side of the hill, searching again, spying out the safest route. He is fully absorbed in his task though tonight I am distracted, with one thought coming swift on the heels of another. Where is Araenion? What has happened back at the refuge that delays him? To press on without him, trusting to his abilities in the wild to follow our route, or to turn back?

And so, here i sit, at this dusty campfire, just off the road. Randir says we are safe here, surrounded by these.. what are they, beast or folk? Like unto the tree-herders, but without any trees it seems. They speak an ancient slow tongue, it rustles in my head like the leaves of an old book.