[Undómë]

Brenna

‘Now that’uns got a good head set solid on his shoulders.’ Brenna listened closely to the little man’s words, nodding her head at the common sense of them. She and most of the other women were sitting at a small fire near that of the others who now sat with the group from Gondor; close by enough to hear what was said, but far enough away that they felt they weren’t intruding.

‘What sort of creature is he, Granny?’ whispered Gwenni. In all her eleven years her only contact had been with those men who were either slaves or slave owners. Among and between their groups they differed in skin and hair color, and height a little, but none she could recall had been as short as these two and still full grown.

‘Him and that other fellow who’s a little taller – they aren’t some kind of good Orc are they?’ the girl asked. She wrinkled her brow, considering the problem. ‘I heard that sometimes Orcs don’t get very big.’ Her fingers slipped up to play with a stray strand of blond hair, wrapping it tightly about one finger then letting it fall again into a lank ringlet. ‘They’re not all that mean looking though. As Orcs are s'posed to be, that is. His hair’s nice and curly, that one as was just talking, and I don’t think Orcs wear such fine clothes.’ She jutted her chin toward the Dwarf. ‘And hasn’t that one got amazing hair! Like fire, almost. And a big bush of it round the bottom of his face, isn’t that a wonder!’

Gwenni’s eyes glittered in the fire’s light, and a sly look tickled at the edges of them. Quick as a mouse she was up on her small bare feet and scurrying as quiet as such a creature, too, toward where Carl sat.

‘Ssst!’ Brenna hissed at her, in a low voice. ‘Get back here, Gwenith! Don’t pester him with your questions, girl.’

Paying no attention, Gwenni pulled up short behind Carl and stood stock still. Craning her neck to one side, she saw he had pulled out a knife and was making scratches on a rock he held in his other hand. The girl’s eyes went wide as she saw what he was carving.

A tree! And wasn’t that a moon?

When he started on those little scratchings that began to look somewhat like a bird’s foot, Gwenni gasped, and stepped up beside him. ‘Do you know Granny’s brothers, then?’ she asked crouching down beside him, looking first at the rock in his hand then up at him. ‘Did they send you with a message for her?’

Only a few short moments later, Brenna reached the girl and Carl. ‘I hope this one’s not been bothering you,’ she said, laying her hand on Gwenith’s shoulder. ‘She’s a curious one…and bold to boot.’ She raised a brow at the girl. ‘Let’s go, and leave the folk to their talking.’

‘Granny Brenna!’

Brenna turned at the sound of her name. One of the women called from their fire, waving to Brenna to come back. ‘The tea’s done. Come have a cup!’