[littlemanpoet]

Raefindan did not have far to go before he came to Tharonwe and his minions, and the captive women. They did not see him. Tharonwe was untying their bonds. One of the merlocks snarled up at Tharonwe in some garbled tongue that Raefindan could barely make out as speech. Tharonwe answered back in similar noises, apparently ordering them away from Gwyllion, for they backed away. The lead merlock snarled angrily and grabbed Tharonwe's knife from his grasp. Tharonwe did not try to take it back. The merlock went to where Gwyllion lay, and stabbed her in the chest. Blood pumped out around the blade.

"No!" Raefindan started to run.

"Stay back, Roy Edwards!" Tharonwe gestured. "This is not your fight anymore."

Raefindan (he had a hard time thinking of himself as Roy Edwards) stopped and watched, feeling more than useless, as Mellonin her face opened, blood flowing in streams down her neck, took charge. Mellonin and a blonde Rohirric girl carried Gwyllion between them, a dark haired young lady wielding the knife and bringing up the rear. The merlocks gave chase and were soon gone.

"Welcome, Roy Edwards," Tharonwe smiled thinly. "Come walk with me. We must away from here before the merlocks turn on us as their next meal."

Raefindan followed Tharonwe down a path that he would not have noticed. He cared little where his feet landed. Other things were far more important at the moment, such as the evil this swamp elf had visited upon his friends, Mellonin and Gwyllion.

"You went back on your word!"

"I did no such thing. I deem that you speak of the merlocks' pursuit of the ladies. The trouble is that I promised them at least one of the maidens for their feasting, while on the other hand I promised all four in trade to you. In order to meet both promises, I needed to let ladies and merlocks fight it out between them, which you witnessed."

"That is too despicable for words, swamp elf."

They had reached ground which was not soggy, though their surroundings were still gray and wet.

"You wrong me! And who are you to speak, you who wished for your love to stay alive just to keep you company, even though to do so meant unending pain for her."

Raefindan stopped in his tracks. "Stay out of my head!" He knew that it was the only way this swamp elf could know any such thing; he had himself forgotten until Tharonwe had reminded him. Angela.

"Ah yes. You remember now. It seems that it was your loss that made it possible for you to dream of Mithrellas, with yourself as Imrazor. But the question that has most intrigued me is how you came to be here, and now, at all. What can you say for yourself?"

Raefindan had no idea. Was he dreaming all of this? How did he have "memories" of a time that would not occur for thousands of years?

"I don't know."

"Indeed. I intend to find out. It is part of why I made the trade." Tharonwe said much else, and Raefindan listened; there might be something useful to be learned for the sake of his friends. Tharonwe planned to use Raefindan's dreams to persuade Mithrellas of Tharonwe's worth as mate for Nimrodel. It made Raefindan sick to think of himself used in such a way, but it was worth having saved the lives of at least three of the women. He just hoped he didn't cause more trouble than good by what he did. In fact, he considered, he was going to have to be very careful indeed, if he did come from the future. Any action of his could change things from the way they were supposed to be. He should not be here at all, as Tharonwe said, but that could not be avoided. Maybe it could be rectified, but how? He had no idea.