[piosenniel]

Bracken clip - clopped along the road heading west as they descended from the Tower Hills. The horses were in no hurry, having rather enjoyed their brief rest of the previous night. There had been grass aplenty for them in the thick undergrowth beneath the trees, and even a thicket of berry bushes for them to browse on.

The Elves, however, felt the urgency grow in them to reach the harbor, and once they had gathered on the flatlands at the base of the hills, they urged their mounts on at a rapid pace. Seagulls flew in wheeling flocks this far inland, calling the Firstborn to the sea. The horses caught their riders’ eager spirits and did their best to shorten the distance between themselves and the promise of the harbor.

It was early morning when they reached the outskirts of Mithlond. The horses by then were flagging, and the Elves had used up the last of their food and drink. Hungry and thirsty, they stopped one of the townsmen and asked the way to the nearest Inn. ‘It’s The Swan you’ll be looking for, gentle people. Just down the street here,’ he said pointing, ‘and then a right turn at the iron monger’s sign.’ He tipped his hat to them as they thanked him and then rode on.

The wooden sign of the Inn was grayed from exposure to the salty sea air. It creaked as it swung in the brisk morning breeze, the chains from which hung rusted and pitted by the sea’s mist. On it was engraved a graceful swan ship, its sails unfurled, filled by a fair breeze, as it sailed westward out of the harbor. The Elves dismounted, handing the reins to the two stableboys who had rushed up eagerly to be of service.

As they mounted the stairs to the Inn door, Erkaliel heard one of the boys speaking to the other. ‘I wonder if they will all be leaving on the ship.’ The other boy said he supposed they would, why else would they have ridden their horses so hard to get here.’ The first lad grinned at the prospect. ‘The stablemaster will be in a very good mood, then, with nine new horses to keep and sell.’ He rubbed his hands in anticipation. ‘We may even get a little something from his good mood!’

‘Nine horses,’ thought Erkaliel. ‘Now isn’t that interesting? Our hosrses plus the two missing make that number. In wonder if by some chance those other two horses were the ones meant to ours.’

The companions strode into the Common Room, and secured a table for themselves. Erkailiel waved a serving girl over, asking what were the offerings for the morning meal, and what might the Inn have for drink. ‘Well,’ said Miriel, ‘the Cook is in an especially good mood this morning and had fixed a fine spread for breakfast.’ She ticked the menu off on her fingers, then went through the beverages from ale to sweetspice tea. ‘It’s all tasty,’ she assured them. Turning to two figures who sat at a small table at the end of the bar, their heads bent low over their plates, she pointed and smiled at them, saying, ‘At least those two gentlefolk think so.’

Erkaliel’s eyes narrowed as she looked into the shadows at the two figures. Elves, by the looks of them. She stepped a little closer and hailed them, her eyes going wide as she recognized their faces.

‘By the One,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s you . . .’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:50 AM December 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]