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She arrived at Duillond to find a group of guards having recently returned. "What news?" she asked the one who acted in charge.
The fair haired son of the Falas raised his head. There was blood on his thick leather gloves.
"And you are?"
"Yrill of Eregion, now staying at Numenstaya. I rode after hearing your Captains request for help. I appear to have two missing friends, so this matter is of personal concern."
Swan-Hoof had fortunately suffered no injuries, but she was restless and concerned, not only for Pelorian, but for Parnard and Danel. Both horses were tossing their heads, neighing and snorting. ‘Could the horses but speak,’ Yrill thought, not for the first time in her life.
Mirdanel took her hand and grasped it reassuringly, with unexpected strength. She had always wondered at how an elleth with such small hands could forge as well as she did. But then for a Mirdan, small hands were a benefit. Istuil had seen the Lady work on larger items too. Though she did not have the strength…nor the skills of a metal-smith, Mirdanel was far stronger than she looked.
It was not in my nature to surrender. I do not recall ever having the need. The men surrounding Parnard and I numbered no more than just over twenty. A motley and undisciplined bunch they were, save the Rohir. I tried to move in his direction, to take him down swiftly.