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Melost heard Khalad talking to Fidrohir and turned, his heart remorse-filled. Taking his leave of Arthain, he strode to where the tall young man stood, talking to his comrade. "Khalad!" he said, raising his voice urgently, "There is no need, unless you wish it, that you should seek out the Men of Elendil. Indeed, I fear he and my own lord, Gil-galad may already be engaged in battle. Both of you are welcome to join us if such be your will. Come! Meet my dearest friend, Arthain." He led the way over to where several men who had been Arthain's nominal guard were busy fixing breakfast before breaking camp and heading with the rest of the rear-guard to the battle-field.
"Arthain, this is Khalad and this, Fidrohir. They are part of a gang of outlaws that saved my life." Arthain rose and brushed his hands off, then held out his hand to both of them, clasping theirs gratefully. "I honour you both in this time of need, and for saving my friend. " He smiled grimly, "Although, under the circumstances, you may have saved him only for a time." Arthain turned his head and Melost met his gaze unflinchingly. "Aye, Arthain, my heart forbodes that my end is near, yet to die with you is all I can ask for."
As they spoke, there came to their ears the sound of angry swearing and cursing. Both Khalad and Fidrohir snapped their heads to where a small group of Elves surrounding three people came through the woods to the camp. Upon seeing Melost, Vlad stopped in his tracks and spat on the ground. "Lord Melost is it? How long have you planned this? How much did you get for the price on our heads?" He was all but growling he was so angry. Arthain came and stood between Melsot and the outlaw leader, sword drawn. "You know nothing of what you speak! This is the finest friend a man could have! He has saved my life many times, as I have saved his and I will hear not one word against him!" He was trembling as he faced Vlad. He was not about to lose Melost again.
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