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Old 08-08-2004, 06:36 PM   #268
piosenniel
Desultory Dwimmerlaik
 
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Rôg

As Aiwendil spoke, Rôg filed away the explanation given by him. A servant?! He didn’t seem to fit the type of servant that Rôg had seen in some of the houses he had visited on his journeys. A gardener and a tender of beasts . . . well, yes, that could account for his intimate knowledge of plants he’d shown in little dribbles and drabbles since they’d been traveling together. And his affinity for various sorts of animals . . . that would explain it also.

The mention of the kind Lady from the far, far West set his thoughts rambling down other paths. The old man had once implied he’d been to the Star Isle. But this “far, far West” was beyond that, Rôg thought. A hasty memory of something heard long ago resurfaced . . . the story of the Star Isle had started with a mention of something farther west, a place on the rim of the world. An unnamed place where The Lords of the West lived . . . and their eagles . . . they had sent eagles in that old story . . . Rôg’s woolgathering was brought to a halt by the change in tone of the old man’s voice.

‘But come. That is enough of me,’ he heard Aiwendil say in a firm way. ‘Are we not here to discuss the plight of the Eagles and what we might do to help them?’ Aiwendil stared pointedly at him, then swept his gaze about to include the men from Gondor. Neither of them spoke up as the old fellow’s voice trailed off. Rôg, following his previous line of thought mumbled the re-found name of the old story, turning the words about in his mouth, tasting them with his tongue as they tumbled out.

‘Narîka 'nBâri 'nAdûn . . . The Eagles of the Lords of the West . . . that was it!’ he muttered.

‘Speak up, Rôg!’ said the old man, his words crisp with a feeling of command rather than request. ‘These old ears didn’t hear you clearly.’

‘Eagles, Old One,’ he said, the respectful title slipping easily into the response. He scrambled hurriedly to round out a sensible answer. ‘There are old tales of great eagles who were sent in dire times, are there not? To offer their assistance as they may . . . you don’t suppose that if we dug a little deeper we might find such help for the clan that holds their name? They can’t all have disappeared . . .’
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