Galdorion is gone from the river-bank almost as quickly as he arrives, eagerly seeking out another opportunity to advance himself here. Normally his enthusiasm is infectious, but this afternoon I simply stand where I am and watch him leave, guiltily fingering the letter still concealed in my pocket. If Galdorion received anything from the party that brought this letter he has not mentioned it – unless he has seen Lord Tyelepoma, he may not even know about the news it brings. I know I should tell him, but a part of me is almost relieved that he left so quickly, so that I could not. I am afraid of how he will react – but even more than that I wish I could somehow avoid bringing this news here at all. I wish the letter had never come. It has been a blessing in many ways, being so isolated from all news outside, because it has meant that for a while we could forget the rest of the world. Even if it was only a temporary peace, it was ours to enjoy.
Once Galdorion is out of sight I sit back down among the flowers and bring the letter out of my pocket, rereading Himwen's words. The parchment is stained and slightly torn around the edges – clearly worn by the journey it has taken. At first I was overjoyed to hear from her, but the news she conveyed made it hard to remain so. It seems as though we had barely left the valley before a summons to war came and was answered. Himwen writes so vividly of the battles and the company's victories that I smile for a moment, remembering the times we fought together, and her fierce courage in the face of the enemy. Yet it is the final note that I linger on, above such memories: Lossehelin has fallen.
I cannot remember him kindly. Even just before we left the valley he was hurling insults at Galdorion, and looking forward vocally to our departure. Sometimes I wonder whether Galdorion only thought of leaving to escape Lossehelin's and his compatriots' scorn. Even so, I must respect him - fallen in battle, ever a champion of his house and its causes. Now, at the back of my mind, something whispers to me that maybe Lossehelin was right to scorn us. Himwen writes that he fell bravely, conquered in battle with forces of evil. The same forces that we ignore, sitting quietly here in the Golden Wood. It is as if this letter was sent to remind me of all the duties I have forsaken. All the friends who risk themselves for our safety, while we wander among the flowers and think of nothing but peace. I know I must tell Galdorion, but I know that once I have, I will no longer be able to pretend that we can ignore the world outside and simply enjoy our time here. Even this temporary peace is being bought at the price of others. I only wish I could forget that for a little while longer.
