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‘No good has come of it already,’ Orëmir replied, helping Lindir to move so that his back was supported against a wall. ‘And I would take you, as well as my brother, back to the ship which brought us to this accursed place, save for the fact that you are far to weak to do so. And he,’ he said, shaking his head as he looked toward Endamir, ‘he still holds to that tenuous contract he’s made with himself to help out his old captain.’ Orëmir returned his gaze to Lindir. ‘Truth be told, I would not leave him behind. Not here at least; not now.’
He put a loose rolled blanket at the small of Lindir’s back to ease the strain of sitting. ‘And besides . . . at least here, within the confines of the old fortress, the restless spirits seem commanded by ones who will try to keep them in check. Beyond these walls, between us and the ship, are those Orcs . . . and their will seems bent on destroying us if they can.’ He chuckled a bit, at Lindir’s expense. ‘You’re in no state to run from them, my friend. And to be honest, you’ve put on a few pounds through the years and my joints have grown older . . . I simply cannot carry you!’
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