The others stood outside the house. They had ceased to feed the fire when Radagast had run from the garden before them. They had watched the shadowy exchange between Mattius and Radagast and now stood like statues as he returned apparently alone.
He ran past them a limp bundle in his arms, kicked the door to force it open and hurried into Tom's kitchen. Jolted from their stunned state they ran in after him. Tom alone, remained outside, steadly adding wood to the fire and watching for those who were still abroad.
"Clear the table!" Radagast bellowed, seeing no place to lay her down.
Rothalle flung the plates and glasses to the floor in her haste. Before the crashes had died down Radagast had lain Calentoliel upon the board.
For the first time they recognised her. Even in the orange glow of the fire she looked deathly pale. The hood of her cloak was so soaked in blood that Radagast was forced to wipe his hand upon his habit once he had settled her head upon the wood. They were silent. Her tresses hacked away unevenly, her eyes closed, her clothes torn and dirty and an ugly wound to the nape of her neck. She barely breathed.
Radagast retrieved a piece of string from the purse that hung at his waist and tied back his hair. He leaned close and stroked her cool cheek with the tips of his fingers. His lips moved barely perceptively. Even Faye could not make out the words he spoke. They were ancient. Radagast spoke in a tongue far older than any member of the company. As he muttered he turned her tenderly onto her side to inspect the gash that sliced through hood and cloak and into flesh. He pulled away the remaining hanks of her hair. The wound was clearly visible to all. He pointed to Faye. "Water, cold, clear water." He returned to his incantations.
Faye did as she was bid, retrieving an unbroken bowl from the floor and filling it from the barrel at the opposite side of the room. The actions of all within that room illuminated by the candles which still burned on the sills.
Rothalle turned up the hem of her gown and tore away a small fragment of her underskirt. She handed it to Radagast who dipped it the bowl offered to him by Faye.
The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the breathing of the company and the constant muttering of Radagast. Carefully he cleaned the vile cut. Silently they waited. Calentoliel seemed not to breathe at all.
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Auriel
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