[Thenamir]

Elwood had had nothing much to contribute to Thenamir's thought processes, other than to say that he sensed that they were where they should be. Of what to do next, Elwood would say not a word, as Thenamir expected. His mind was made up anyway. Some of the puzzle pieces were still missing, but there was enough of the picture clear to know that whatever happened from here, few if any would come back alive, and none would come back unscarred. There was no way to fight a wizard of Saruman's power, but they might perhaps hinder him enough so that those who *could* fight the mad wizard would have a better chance.

It was then that Thenamir called the camp to attention. Taradan also stood weakly at Thenamir's side, to lend his position and authority to Thenamir's words. Thenamir and Taradan had spoken long into the night, and were agreed to what had to be done. The unexpected return of Telefax, and the contents of the pack it bore, had given their determination a direction at last.

Thenamir was still uneasy at taking the leadership position, but with Taradan's trust and agreement, there was really no other that could take the lead. "Men of Rohan, and Master Dwarin, and Ulfwine of Dunland, and Elwood of Lothlorien. Duty compels me to lay out what I know, and what I believe lies ahead. I do not know where Telefax found this pack, but it contained some exceptional healing herbs that Elwood has put to good use, and a map which appears to show more directly where to find the Rangers of the North." There was a murmur of surprise, then Thenamir continued.

"We will make for the Rangers with as much speed as we can muster. Guthrin, Leoden, and Flandhere will meet us there as soon as possible after attempting their task. Those who cannot keep up will ride as necessary in Dwarin's cart."

Theanmir paused, knowing what had to be said. "My friends and allies, if Saruman the White is responsible for all the devilry we have seen so far, we are fighting a foe much greater than Dunlendings, or Wargs. If he knows of our doings, he will crush us, and none can save us. We may only hope to slow him, or hinder him in some small way. And yet my heart tells me that this is the way we must go -- that there is a purpose in it, though we probably will not return again. If there is any hope that men can turn aside the plans of powerful tyrants, let us go forth to our fate, and yet ride in hope that we serve a purpose higher still."

"Make ready. We leave in one hour."

An hour later, the only trace of the band was the blood of the wargs on the grass.