[Tevildo]

Leod lay unmoving on the ground not more than eight feet away from where the Elves were still talking. He was careful to remain motionless and tuck his head under the blanket they had given him. Underneath that cover, he could hear every word they were saying.

Last night, he had not known how to explain why he was wandering alone in the woods in the middle of the night. Looking back, he could not help but feel that it was very foolish of him to go out so far on his own, even if his need for the herbs was great. Now all he wanted to do was to protect his friends from these strange and regale creatures who were so well armed and seemingly filled with anger and suspicion. Leod had admitted to one of the Elves, a woman who had questioned him closely, that he was a healer and had gone out at night to search for the lichens that are so good in drawing out ill humors from a wound. He totally denied that he was with anyone else even after she pressed him further. She had given him a strange look and walked away.

Now that he had heard what his fate was to be, Leod did not know whether to be happy or sad. At least they had decided not to skewer him in two. But his spirits sank down to this toes as he heard that he was to be carted off to the north and let go in the middle of nowhere, many miles from his friends and the injured men and women who so desperately needed him. He simply could not accept that.

As he listened to Nevtaliel speak, a desperate plot hatched in his mind. This woman, at least, was not his enemy. Leod did not know much about Elves, had never seen one in his life, but he did know that their healers were said to possess amazing skills, far beyond the reach of mortal men.

Gathering every bit of courage that he had, Leod leapt to his feet and turned to face the Elves. "The woman is right. I am a healer, but I am also a terrible liar. My friends are camped no more than two miles from here. They are no brigands, just common folk from several villages miles north of here. One of those villages, the one that I call my home, was burned down by a pack of roving Orcs, every person in it slain but myself and one other young girl."

"We are trying to get through to Edoras to warn the King that the Orcs have begun a rampage through the countryside, and he and his Riders must stand against them, if any of us are to survive. My own folk are gravely injured. When you found me, I was trying to search for the medicine that might save them. My supplies are gravely low. We had spent the last few days fighting Orcs and Easterlings, and many were afflicted with grievous wounds. To be honest, I was a fool to leave camp. I do not even know if these wounded men and women can survive, but without me they have absolutely no chance. Already, they are burning up with fever and half out of their minds."

"Please, sirs and madame, I am not the like of you but my folk mean much to me. I have heard that Elves have wonderful ways with a healing hand. I can take you to our camp that lies no more than a few miles upstream. Perhaps you can help those who are sick and injured. Meanwhile, as we approach the camp, you may keep your knife trained on my throat. If I have lied about any of these things, slash my throat and let me fall and die. Please, great Elves, if you have any mercy, will you come and help my friends?"

Nevtaliel stooped to pick up her bag of herbs and remedies, and glanced over towards Haekanoion. He said nothing but quickly nodded his head in assent. Within a moment, all had retrieved their horses, and were cantering briskly along the bank of the stream, with Leod sitting behind one of the riders. Despite his offer, there was no knife trained upon his throat.