[Bêthberry]

Settlers and Rangers

Calumdril staggered and almost fell back at the sight of the Ranger menacing him. He bent a knee and quickly but gently let Thorgil's body slide down. Then, he threw Thorgil's blade and his belt knife to the ground. He was unarmed.

"You come upon in haste and anger, but I need your help."

"It appears Thorgil needed my help more. Since you obviously couldn't provide it." The young Ranger Awyrgan stopped his rush, but his face was marked with fury, distrust, frustration.

"Give me time," replied Calumdril, short of breath. He took several gulps of air, as much to steady his own thought as to recover from the exertion of carrying the dead ranger.

"I was not there. I had gone to the ridge to hunt deer, but the rain drove the herd away, so I went in search of Thorgil. The rain had washed away his tracks, but the vultures led me to him." Calumdril stopped, and bowed his head, a quiet look of sorrow passing over his features before he looked up again at the young Ranger.

"You expect us to believe this? That Thorgil--Thorgil--would have ..." Awyrgan could not finish his thought.

Calumdril raised his hand, as if to signal he was not finished. Yet he stood a minute longer in silence.

"A rock caught him between the eyes. I found it; I have it here. Yet he was not surprised. He found the Hillman whose tracks we had seen. They fought. It was not an uneven battle. Thorgil wounded him, a death blow with his blade, but a blow that still allowed the Hillman to respond. I found them, two hundred paces apart. Both dead."

Awyrgan glared at Calumdril, not wanting to believe him. "You saw the Hillman? It was a man, not a creature?"

Calumdril nodded. "Let us not talk more. Help me carry Thorgil. Back to your cabin."

Awyrgan stood for a moment, not wanting to aid the settler in the least, but at last the desire to serve Thorgil won out.

With not a word between them the two men brought Thorgil home for the last time.