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Khônarû looked worriedly at his charge as their group stopped to rest their horses for a moment. He touched her white face lightly and it was cold. She moaned slightly, pulling away from the warmth of his hand. Her bandages were red with her blood. He called to one of his men, interrupting the big soldier's quiet conversation. Though the man was large and imposing, he moved as silently as a shadow, though very little could be heard over the whipping winds that pulled at them ceaselessly.
"Urugnardu," he spoke as quietly as he could, avoiding letting his men see his speech. "Lord Elendil's grandchild is failing. What are your thoughts?"
The man looked at his commander, unsure. "Sir?" he asked.
"Times are not what they once were," Khônarû responded, looking to the blackened sky and gesturing to the rain as it fell past them to land on the delicately shivering earth. "We are leaving this land, my friend. I would like much to leave it with our commander's grandchild aboard the ship and healing. As it is... I will admit to not being certain of the proper action. Though it is not your position, I note that you are a dab hand as a healer. I would appreciate your input, as you know more than I. Do we press to the harbor and hope that she holds on... or do we halt and let her pass peacefully..."
The soldier looked to his captian, unsure of how to respond. The lady Kâthaanî, though not well known, was well loved for who she was. Her position alone as the grand daughter of Elendil and the child of Mabalar Mellothroch and Lothlómë was itself worthy of consideration, and yet Elendil's men were fond of her for her own temperment. Urugnardu went to the lass and examined her carefully. Her breathing was slow, faint. Though the horses that her hammock was bound to fidgeted, she did not respond to the motion. Urugnardu was not happy with the blood that continued to stain her bandages. He could not be certain if its spread had been encouraged by the rain and the wet cloth, but it did not look promising.
"My lord," he turned to Khônarû. "the choice seems this: we ride on with hope or we halt without it. I do not believe that the lady or her family would approve of us losing faith at this point... what will happen to our lady will happen, whether we wait for it or no. If we ride on, it will mean that we have not yet given up."
Khônarû looked at his soldier intently for a moment, squinting against the rain that pelted his face. Why he had never promoted the man before he could not be certain... He would... if there was time. "That was well spoken." he replied softly. Urugnardu read the words on his lips as no sound was audible. "Rally the men. We will ride on."
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