Parnard

Meldanya, 

I have been dreaming. Not a foreshadowing of things to come I think, neither a message of doom. But it has left me confused upon waking. I would warn you, if you could but hear - just in case there is more to the dream than is usual. 

Yrill rode ahead as they crossed the High King’s bridge yet again. Her heart was still beating unnaturally fast. She still felt like retching. They had the information they needed, but would she or Culufinnel have been capable of attaining it? The Captain of Celondim was a staunch soldier, but he had turned aside. She herself would only have acted so under dire need. And had it not been dire need? All she knew was she was thankful Estarfin had been with them.

“Where is Yrill?” asked Culufinnel.  

“Looking ahead,” answered Estarfin as he adjusted his gleaming armor.

“I was looking as well: up there,” Culufinnel said, motioning above.

 As Yrill and Captain Culufinnel continued their pursuit, he asked again, “You are certain this is the correct way? We have wasted enough time.”

Yrill took the momentary opportunity to reclaim some of her arrows. Ceuro halted nearby, sword ready, poised for the unexpected. “All this area bears Lord Estarfin’s hallmark,” he said grimly. 

They both looked swiftly around the nearby quays at the bodies and the blood. 

Estarfin…

…take care, wherever you are, meldanya. I miss you.

The sky was predictably darkening by the time the four Elves turned across the rugged land to the walls of the Dourhand port. Yrill dismounted from her horse and made her way through the rocks and undergrowth to assess the gate. She turned in surprise: Estarfin was lurking close beside her. Her own skills had not alerted her to his presence, and she realised she had underestimated him.