Resettling the Lost Kingdom

[Bêthberry]

The swim and bath in the cold lake had eased Calumdril's overstrained muscles as the boyancy of the water lifted him up and held him. He had relaxed and allowed his body to be buffeted by the waves. For a brief time he let go of his self-control and just wafted on the water, the sounds of the settlement registering but distantly on his mind and the lapping of water making a rhythm over his face, eyes closed. Yet after a time the cold had also quickened his mind and thoughts. His resolve returned and stiffened and he was once more ready to act the disciplined ranger from Ithilien.

So it was that Calumdril had watched Borgand's conversation with Tane and noted the frown. He had cheered loudly the announcement of the winners of the challenge and called out enthusiastically, "Cuilad, Cuilad" to the cheers of the settlers. He had even reflected upon the strange fact of the boy's muteness and wondered briefly if the chance to prove himself and accomplish something substantial in his own eyes would help mediate the atrophied power of speech. Yet when he caught Borgand's the social veneer was gone. He shook his head, as if to acknowledge wordlessly his readiness.

Then, he slipped out of the hall to survey the perimeter of the settlement, the lay of the tents and wagons. He had been away for what amounted to much time and much had been accomplished in his absence. He needed to be familiar with the settlement, particularly in the dark of a half moon and a night sky overcast with clouds.