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It was evident to Ferethor that the lass was unused to controlling her feelings. Crystal breathed harshly and her eyes glittered with hatred - and mingled fear and shame. Good. She is intelligent enough to fear a known advarsary. She won't tell. Ferethor thought, his hard features betraying not what he was thinking.
Even as Crystal started and was moved to speech, Roryn thrust through the long grass into the clearing. Seeing them he cried, "You, Ferethor, need to keep your sword and your tongue sheathed. You, Crystal, need to do the same. We are all here for one purpose."
Ferethor sheathed his blade with a clash of steel, metallic and lusterous. Roryn spoke to Atharen, "The others are on their way to the stables. Hurry." Horses? Ferethor thought, chagrined and taken off his balance. He could ride one, to be sure, but as a Gondorian he had always marched and fought on foot. Ferethor would be in dire peril if he ever tried to battle as he rode. Silently he added, I'd be no match for her on horseback.
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