Rauthain
“The fool!” Rauthain said has he watched Kaldir spur his horse, disappearing from view. “Even the Great Worm of Morgoth had his weak spot and so do you, as well as the Ravennor. I’ll be bound she knows yours like the back of her very hand, my friend. But this you must have learned well in your captivity.”
Frustrated, Rauthain drew his sword and vent his anger upon the undergrowth. He had been hard pressed to stem the tide of temper and reflex that had risen within him. This for Naldir’s sake, as well as for his son Kaldir’s, for he would not willingly fight Kaldir unless circumstances demanded it of him. Of course , he thought, grinning gravely as he clutched his shoulder, it might be good to keep out of sight for the time being . The bounty hunter knew now of his presence and having dismissed him with no more serious hurt gave Rauthain a small hope, though it was true he seemed less than happy to greet him, but this was only to be expected he told himself. Kaldir had made clear what thoughts had dogged him.
The bloodied ranger shook his grey head as he turned to look for Juta. Perhaps this unfinished business Kaldir had spoken of was not what it seemed. He had not given the token Rauthain had been looking for but left him wondering still if Kaldir might be able to carry out his own justice. Whatever the case, he would not be alone for long, though he may think it.
Finding Juta wandering at the back of the hill, Rauthain led the horse to the stream, letting him drink deeply in the cold rivulet as the ranger poured water over his own face, grimacing. The flow from the wound beginning to lessen somewhat still dripped red, streaking the left side of his face. And after rummaging through his saddlebag the ranger withdrew a cloth and small dirty piece of folded parchment containing a powdered root. Juta watched as Rauthain pressed the powder into the laceration pushing it well under the flap of skin to prevent fever from setting in.
The horse sniffed his cheek and snorted at the acrid dust, turning his head away to gaze across the stream. Rauthain patted the strong neck with stained fingers. “Perhaps, this bitterness also holds healing, eh Juta? Though I should be loath to meet Kaldir again and receive such a harsh treatment regardless of the curative effect. Ah no matter, I see clearly it must be done until the pain of it has diminished. But I have dallied over long.” Mounting once again, the ranger spurred his own horse, keeping well clear of Kaldir’s group for the time being.
By early afternoon he found signs that Amandur and Léspheria had also passed this way and began to follow them. He was pleased to see later that Maethor had joined the group as well, and made haste so that he might catch up with them before darkness fell. Steadily toward the east he traveled, coming across them late in the day. And hailing them warmly he approached, glad for their company in his troubled state of mind.
“Ah friends! How is your hunting?” He said smiling as he walked up to them. Then seeing their serious expressions his voice softened. “What tidings have befallen you that you have become so grave? Is the lass still well?”
“There have been signs of fierce struggle,” Amandur began.
“And Lady Léspheria has determined that they heading for Imladris and Menecin, so that Naiore might finish what she had begun in him.” Maethor explained.
“I have concerns also for those few heirs of Fingolfin that remain on these shores. My kin....” the elf added. "We by good fortune found an abandoned campsite that had brought these many things to light."
“This is truly bad news. If only this shadow would pass over these lands like the darkness of night, leaving all untouched,” he sighed.
“But what has happened to you Rauthain?” Léspheria questioned. “You have been hurt.”
“Yes hurt,” echoed the ranger, bringing his hand up to touch his cheek. “It seems that though the tree was kind enough it’s branch held a grudge against me! Rightfully it injured me, for I have damaged it as well,” He said forcing a weak smile to his lips.
“Come, let me tend to it,” the lady offered walking over to retrieve her satchel.
“Thank you, my lady,” Rauthain said following her, “I have applied my own crude medicine such as I carry, but would be much indebted to you for your skill.”
Taking ointment in hand Léspheria began ministering to the ranger, and noticing the wound’s cleanly cut edges she paused searching Rauthain’s grey eyes. Seeing that she had guessed the nature of it, the ranger raised his index finger to his lips and then opening his palm signaled her to wait. It was not something he could speak of now. And he could see in her sad and piecing gaze that Léspheria’s heart had pressing burdens of it’s own.
[ 11:14 AM November 28, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]
|