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Old 08-29-2004, 08:39 PM   #286
Ealasaide
Shadow of Tyrn Gorthad
 
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Kaldir

Kaldir listened to Gilly's outburst with a growing sense of misgiving. Not being particularly well-traveled in matters of the heart, he had been under the impression that his conversation with Benia that morning had gone rather well. True, she had seemed a bit troubled at their parting, but he had chalked it up to the suddenness of his proposal, rather than the circumstances. If she wished to reject his offer of marriage, all she had to do was tell him. He would accept her decision either way, whether it favored him or Dúlrain in the end. However, the knowledge that he had upset her so much that she would seek the counsel of Mrs. Banks so quickly and then vanish into thin air troubled him greatly.

“Drown herself!” he repeated, surprise and concern showing plainly on his usually impassive face. “Surely not. I can’t imagine Benia doing such a foolish thing... even to avoid me. But this notion of a walk does trouble me. The woods are far from safe. Did she say where she planned to go?”

Slowly, Gilly lowered her tatting into her lap, thinking hard. Finally, she shook her head. “No, I don’t think she did. She said she needed to take a little walk and think things over. I suggested a lovely garden they have not too far from the guest quarters...I think she went in that direction when she left, but, not having gone along with her, I really can’t say for certain.” Gilly paused, a haunted look coming into her kind eyes. “Oh, Mr. Kaldir, you don’t think anything awful has happened to her, do you?”

Kaldir shook his head. “I certainly hope not.” He rose to his feet and looked down at the hobbit lady with a gentle look in his eyes. “It is easy to lose oneself in a place like Imladris. Perhaps she has just found herself a quiet corner and lost track of the time.” He paused, his hand landing idly on the hilt of his sword. He gazed thoughtfully past Gilly toward the door that led in the direction of the gardens. “On the other hand, it is always best not to take anyone’s absence for granted. Just this morning I told Benia that I would sooner die than see any harm come to either one of you. To be the cause of it, would be unacceptable.”

When he glanced back down at Gilly and saw the fear in her eyes, Kaldir smiled encouragingly. “I shall be off to find her at once,” he said, kneeling down to look more directly into Gilly’s face. “Rest easy in your heart. After all, I am a tracker and a hunter. I should be able to find her fairly easily. If I have done her any harm with my talk of the future, then I shall do what I can to set things right with her again.” He rose again to his full height and, turning away, added under his breath, “Her happiness does matter more than mine.”

Leaving Gilly behind, Kaldir went to the garden that she had described. As he walked, he turned over the things Gilly had said in his mind: that he should have spoken for Benia sooner; that once Benia’s feelings for Dúlrain had taken shape, he should have stepped aside. If he really loved her, Benia’s happiness should matter more than his. Kaldir frowned darkly. Perhaps Gilly had been correct after all. His interpretation of the situation had been that since Dúlrain had yet to speak for Benia’s hand, he, Kaldir, was still free to do so. If she wished to reject him in favor of Dúlrain or anyone else, all she had to do was tell him. So, what was the problem? Why had she gotten so upset? He sighed. Apparently, he had no understanding whatsoever of women. That was the problem. Admittedly, he had never spent much time around them. He had not even had a mother around growing up, his own mother having died giving birth to him. He had no idea how their minds worked, he was discovering, particularly not in matters of the heart. He had never proposed marriage to anyone before, and, while he knew that his proposal to Benia had not been made under the most ideal of circumstances, it had certainly never occurred to him that she would be upset by it.

Walking through the garden, he thought about all of this as his eyes scanned the well-trodden path for any sign of Benia’s passing. He had noticed that morning in the Hall of Healing that she wore a pair of elven boots in place of her own, which made distinguishing her trail from that of the many elves who trafficked the garden nearly impossible. As a last resort, in the hope of eliminating the possibility that she had strayed outside, Kaldir deserted the path and went to the seldom-used gate that led out of the garden to the woods beyond. To his dismay, a single set of fresh footprints showed that a woman had passed that way. Kaldir slipped through the gate and followed the faint trail of boot prints into the woods.

For a long distance, the woman - Benia, perhaps?- followed a straight path through the trees, turning only with the turns of the trail. Her strides were long and steady, without any pause or hesitation, like a woman in a hurry... or a woman deep in thought. Kaldir paused to examine a low-hanging branch that hung across the way. A grim smile touched his lips as he found what he had both hoped and dreaded to find: a single long, black hair caught in the rough bark. Her head had apparently brushed the branch as she stooped to pass. He drew the hair from its place of rest and pulled it between his fingers. It did look like hers. Tucking it away into his pocket, Kaldir passed under the branch and continued along the way, his eyes studying the ground. Rounding a sharp bend, he stopped abruptly.

A second set of elven boots had joined the first. A second woman.

“No...Benia...” he murmured, his hand reaching up to touch the scarred side of his face. His pale eyes narrowed as he deciphered the tale told by the, now, two sets of prints. Benia had been seized from behind by the owner of the second pair of boots. Whoever it was had forced her to the ground, held her there briefly, no doubt to tie her wrists, thought Kaldir, then dragged her to her feet again. The second woman had then forced Benia onward, deeper into the forest. Kaldir drew his sword. There was only one elf who would do such a thing to such a gentle creature as Benia Nightshade, if the footprints and the strand of hair did indeed belong to her.

For a fleeting instant, he felt a familiar rush of memory and muzzy thinking as the horrors of Mordor sought to free themselves from the dungeon in the bottom of his mind, but he forced them back with a steely determination. If Naiore had Benia, then he must go forward. He must think clearly. With all of his senses alert, Kaldir tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword and followed the trail where it led, northward, through the valley. Finally, at the base of a steep and well-concealed trail that twisted upward out of the valley to the ridge above, he stopped. The two females had stopped there as well, briefly, before continuing onward.

Catching sight of something shiny in the grass, winking at him in the afternoon sunlight, Kaldir bent and closed his fingers around a short length of silver chain. It was decorated with tiny silver spangles. Kaldir recognized it at once. His face grew hard as he tucked it into his pocket alongside the single strand of Benia’s hair. There was no doubt now who had made those tracks. His only hope was that he might get to her before it was too late.
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