Rauthain
That Barrold and this other man might seek out Tallas vexed Rauthain. No good would come of it, and he worried for his friend. Tallas would not willingly entertain such guests and he judged that Barrold was spurred by fear should he should fail to succeed. It was not good odds for the old man. And this trail leading away from his enclave bode ill. It was good that the lady Léspheria with her healing, had gone to the familiar ring of oaks, for chance was that her skills were needed there.
Barrold’s destination had also helped to support in Rauthain’s mind the idea that in pursuing Vanwe they might come upon Naiore. But still he was uneasy and harbored doubts. Naiore had taken them through the Chetwood and he knew her to be artfully misleading. While it was true that she had taken great lengths to recover her daughter it was also true that she had plainly witnessed Vanwe surrounded by a number of rangers beyond what was customary for the Forsaken Inn. It would be a small thing for her to understand that the maiden was being watched. What better deception than to use this against them now, a decoy to lure the rangers way from her true course. Not letting her go, but with Ferny’s help, coaxing them off the path and yet retaining her daughter. He could not consciously let Naiore to slip though their guard.
The grey haired ranger looked up, his hair falling away from his broad face. There, bald and orange in the lowering sun was the crest of Bree Hill, a fine vantage point. The tracks leading them ever up its side. He began to grow impatient, wishing to gain the view from its heights. “What is it Rauthain?” Dúlrain ventured perceiving his disquiet.
“I had thought that we may gain time if we could espy our quarry from the hill or an outcropping such as this,” he said waving his hand toward a high knob of stone close by. “I am reluctant to by chance loose Naiore to the darkness by following this meandering way.”
“What of Vanwe’s plight?” Maethor questioned. “Is she not also deserving of our attention?”
“Yes, to be sure,” Rauthain said brushing aside the question. He did indeed desire Vanwe’s freedom, but not at the risk of loosing her mother. It wore on him deeply the more time passed. Finding Vanwe saved only one, finding Naiore countless others. “But are not many more served by concentrating solely on the capture of Naiore and not becoming distracted from our mission?”
“By finding Vanwe, we find Naiore, it is one and the same,” Dúlrain said. “Have patience, we shall not let up until she has been brought to justice. But if it will quell your anxiety, climb to see what you may, you will find us easily enough when you are satisfied. For you speak as one consumed. What lies so heavily on your heart that you should be so?”
“I am growing older, brother, and have much to atone for. This pursuit has taken on a personal cast for me, of which Maethor is aware. I seek to avenge the memory of one of our brethren, who should by rights never have fallen into her net.” He pulled his reins toward the slope, his horse cautiously beginning the steep ascent. “But I must make haste so as to find you again before night fall. Do not worry,” he said. “I will not be long.”
As Rauthain departed Dúlrain’s words reached him. “Of who does he speak? I know of no ranger that has become prey to the Revennor?”
“Rauthain was at Raven Falls the day the one called Kaldir fell into her long reach.” Maethor answered. “He is no longer a ranger now, but a bounty hunter that roams these parts of late. They say he was at the Foresaken the day before I arrived, no doubt after some quarry of his own.”
Rauthain wished he had not overheard the conversation, it awoke again in him the cold darkness haunted by his memories. As the sun grew red at the edge of the sky, Rauthain spurred his horse on to try to outpace them.
[ November 01, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]
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