House Bar-en-Acharn rode out from Stock at dawn the next morning, after another standing breakfast and settling accounts with the innkeeper. Lancogard’s fears vanished, and Applecider giggled when Seregrían bade Ostler Chubb set a tankard on the bar – and poured into it the contents of her purse, filling the tankard with silver coins.
“That should settle all accounts, I deem,” she said looking innocently, “or is this not enough?”
“Erm, well. Ahhh,” Chubb stammered, “that’s fine, that’s fine – ahem – that’s more than I could ever impose upon you, what did Lancogard say? – Your Ladyship!”
“Then all is well. And now, my company and I shall take our leave, and we thank you sincerely for your hospitality, Master Halfling,” Seregrían said as she turned from the bar. “Your arm, Lancogard?” And out the door they walked, the hobbits in the tavern staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed, Lancogard grinning widely, as Seregrían smiled demurely.
Outside in the yard, the Household were mounted and ready to depart. Kortheod and Plusheila were together, Emlinor upon his horse holding Gairion’s reins. The two hobbit-ponies stood together as well. Lancogard and Applecider mounted. Seregrían sprang upon Gairion and with a motion of her hand, led the company out of the yard and out onto the East Road. Soon, they reached the Bridge and crossed over Brandywine, leaving the Shire behind, the Wildwood awaiting them.
The Household rode at a steady pace east along the Road, Seregrían and the hobbits in column along with Plusheila, whom Kortheod had charged with staying close to the hobbits. Kortheod and Emlinor rode ahead and behind, circling round the company, keeping their eyes outward and sharp. It was on about noon when they turned north from the Road and headed into the Brandy Hills. At that point Emlinor, who was now in the rear, rode up to the others looking back west along the Road.
“Your Ladyship, we are followed,” he said simply.
“What have you seen?” Seregrían asked.
“A single rider, just having crossed the Bridge,” he said, “riding hard to overtake us. She is an Elf-maid, by the look of the gear: clad all in crimson and wine, similar to you.”
Kortheod’s hand dropped to his sword, as did Emlinor’s. Plusheila looked to the hobbits but needn’t have worried, for they both rode up to Seregrían’s side, thinking to guard her. For her part, Seregrían merely waited unmoving until the rider was within voice.
“Your Ladyship!’ the approaching rider shouted, “I found you at last!”
“Indeed you have! Iyenue, dear friend, welcome!” Seregrían called back. “But where have you been, I thought to have you ride out from Falathlorn with us?”
Iyenue reined up by Seregrían, her horse lathered from the ride to catch up to the Household. She was dressed as Emlinor had described: all in deep wine-colored travel garb, a large plumed hat fixed to her hair. Her fair face showed the fatigue of the hard ride.
“Forgive me, Seregrían, for I promised I would ride as your vanguard,” Iyenue said “When I reached Falathlorn, I learned you had left the day before. I rode out to follow as swiftly as I might, though both my steed and I were weary.”
“Come, all of you,” Seregrían called out, “we head north. Let us walk our mounts, so as to give Iyenue a rest. Iyenue, you shall walk with me and give me what tidings you may.” The company moved out again, Seregrían and Iyenue walking together.
“As I said,” Iyenue went on, “I rode onward thinking to ask the local folk if they had seen your passing. I needn’t even have asked – all the hobbits of the Shire are speaking of the ‘Red Elf’ and her ‘band of hooligans’, riding across the land and disturbing the peace.”
“What ‘disturbing the peace’!?” Lancogard cried in high dudgeon. “Since when does a company ride the length of the Shire, only to have busy noses poking and snuffling where they oughn’t. Typical!”
“Bullroarer’s bunions,” Applecider groused, “ther’s gonna be some carp-slapping o’ heads when this is over, an’ that ye can mark!”
“The umbrage of the Shire-folk concerns us little,” Seregrían said, “for what does concern us is forward, beyond those hills. Have you any further news, Iyenue?”
“Yes, I have news of others of the Household,” she said, “Boghadair is far afield still, and might be unable to join us. But Aifiolossë sends word she will ride hard to meet us at Adso’s Camp. And also, tidings reached me of Anurania. She was in Bree and will make for Adso’s as well. The House converges, it seems, to do your bidding - despite your saying you do not command us,” she smiled. Seregrían merely walked on silently, her eyes closed, a small smile on her face.
The day wore on, and the Household mounted once more to ride a slower pace as the ground rose before them. Kortheod and Emlinor made up the vanguard, they both being familiar with the lands. As the sun set behind broken clouds, Kortheod held a hand up to halt, Seregrían riding up to him. Before them, a chasm clove the land in two, a river running through its deep crevasse. Beyond the rift, ruined stone battlements and pillars rose upon a high bastion of rock.
“There stands Ost Barandor,” Kortheod said, pointing at the ruins. “The rift is steep, there may not be an easy way there.”
“Between Applecider’s map, and my lore, we may find it,” Seregrian said. “There was once a trail that led north from here, long before the Dúnedain settled these lands. We may perhaps be able to find what remains of it.”
“I know this trail you speak of,” Emlinor said, “and I am sure I can find it.” The company mounted, and Emlinor led them west a little before striking a smoother path, long gone to grass, that led downwards to the stream. They found a place to ford, though the current was swift, and began climbing up the other bank until they found a trail that entered the ruins of the old fortress.
“This was once a mighty tower, that is plain,” Emlinor remarked.
“Everyone, look around,“ Seregrían said, “there might be signs, something we can read.”
“Plusheila, stay with the mounts,” Kortheod ordered. The company split up and began searching the courtyard where they stood, some looking among the stone and fallen pillars, others looking out over the edge of the courtyard. Seregrían was looking off eastward towards the heights above the lake when Lancogard called to her.
“Look here,” he said. “Cloth, and cords – they’ve been sawed through! These were binding something - or someone. Here, these stains - blood! The cloth itself is dark, could be green or black.”
Applecider sniffed at the cloth. “T’were a potato sack once, an’ large enuff to fit over one’s head.”
“These bonds were cut, either by the one who was bound, or a rescuer,” Lancogard said. “But such strange marks; these cords were not cut, they were gnawed! And look at these – bird droppings, and large, too!”
“As in from an eagle?” Applecider said brightly. “Your Windy-bird’s been here, Miss Sergie, an’ that means we’re on the trail!”
“And hullo, look at these,” he pointed to darkened marks on the stones. “There’s burn marks here. Not from a campfire, it seems more like - Your Ladyship’s hand!”
“What do you mean?” Seregrían asked.
“I mean, beg pardon,” he said, “when you get angry and burn things - THAT kind of fire.”
“If I understand these signs,” Kortheod said, “Cutch was here, Windwalker found him and chewed his bonds - he left his captivity tied, but was untied here?”
“But if he was freed, it means he was alone – or did he get free himself?” Lancogard said.
“If he did, cunning guy,” Kortheod said. “But how does this explain the burn marks?”
At that moment, Applecider makes a funny high-pitched noise. “Erm .... I were lookin’ fer the eagle, so’s maybe we could follow, an’ then I dropped a rock ter see how far it’d fall .... I dinnae wish ter alarm anyone, but thar be a dead body down there...”
“WHAT?!?” Seregrían cried aloud. All rushed over to where Applecider stood, pointing down the cliff face at something.
“I go have a looksee, will I?” Applecider offered. “Lance, you best come too, you’re the investigator!”
“I will come, too,” Kortheod said. The three left the courtyard by the path, and carefully picked a way across the rocks until they reached the narrow shelf where a body lay. Lancogard examined the corpse while the others watched.
“The body’s stiff, it’s been here some time,” Lancogard called up to the others. “But - Lor bless me! She’s an Elf!! Stone-dead, but an Elf the same!”
“It... it’s a woman! And an Elf!?” Seregrían said. “What killed her? Can you tell?”
“How comes an Elf-woman here, only to die?” Iyenue said.
“Her arms are burnt to a crisp up to the elbows! If that didn’t kill her, the fall surely did,” Lancogard answered.
”So she were set alight an’ took a tumble,” Applecider said, “How long past, you figger?”
“If I venture a guess, five, six days at least,” Lancogard said. “No help could have saved her, Your Ladyship!”
“Did you know her, Seregrían?” Iyneue asked, “Do you recognize her?”
“Is she wearing a belt pouch or wallet? If so, bring it here to me,” Seregrían called down. Presently, the three returned to the courtyard.
Applecider handed over a belt pouch and a thin silver circlet. “She gots a buckle-on pocket book, an’ she ‘ad that on ‘er ‘ead.”
Seregrían opened the pouch and examined the circlet. “These... these are Rune-stones! And the circlet – it’s of the make of the Sindar. She was a Rune-mistress, whoever she was. But why here? What killed her? And was it before, or after Cutch escaped?”
Applecider counted on her fingers, “Five, six days’d put her just a few days past when Mister Sir Halros last saw Mister Crane.”
“A rune-mistress, as you name her,” Kortheod said, “but fell to a stronger fire-wielding enemy.”
Seregrían looked around, “Something dreadfully powerful walks these hills...”
“But we have fire in your staff, too,” Kortheod said, “and courageous songs from Cider.”
“Aye, but I be singin’ em very quietly whilst we sneak about,” Applecider said.
“Yes, and it is enough, I hope,” Seregrían said. “But this is another riddle, apart from the main: where is my dear one?”
“Whatever it is, dark be settin’ in,” Applecider said. ”If we’re ter find Master Crane, we bes’ be shiftin’. The bird said he were headin’ fer Adso’s camp, but that be a fair hike if one be injured.”
“We press on for Starmere - that is where Sûlpadron parted with him,” Seregrían said. “We move as one - we can’t do better apart.”
“Starmere tributary will feed us into a gulch,” Applecider said, “we’d be movin’ together regardless.”
“Good enough. Emlinor, do you want the front or the rear?” Kortheod asked. “I shall take the other.”
“I know these lands near the lake,” Emlinor said, “and I recall the paths. There was a trail down to the lake that the horses can easily walk.” And the company set out on foot, leading their mounts down into the valley of the Starmere.
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