Turn 5 -

At the Blossom Hills, South Belfalas

Meneldor walked to the woman with a tranquil pace but his presence was enough to catch Mara's attention. Through the corner of her eye, she watched him approaching while the other elf merged himself with the surrounding woods.

Mara felt a cold raising in her when the profound voice of the elf came to her presence, "Mara we have taken lodgings in the village. It is called Vinhir. The Inn of the Night Turtle has adequate food. They may have another room available."

Still suspicious, Mara took a silent breath before answering. When it came out, her voice did not revealed her fears,
"Whatever you say as long as you keep those nasty villagers from my back.".

"You can count on it!", Leif added quickly behind her, a bold expression meant to reassure Mara.
But she did not lifted her eyes from the elf that stood in front of her
"And by what name the Dunadan called you, Meneldor, wasn't it?", she asked.

"Yes, he is Meneldor the weird, and I am Fletch the hungry, oh forgotten one...", the Hobbit still moaned his lost food.
Talis guessed the problem of Fletch, and told him quickly but diplomatically,
"Come, Fletch. We can't leave Blanchon alone in those woods. Come."
Mara grinned at the Hobbit but seemed to have taken no offense.
Fletch bent to Mara and rushed after the broad ranger.

Mara turned once more to the seer,
"You speak with a strange accent, Meneldor. Like one I've heard before. I think that you also claim to belong to a lost realm, right?"
"It is as you say."
"Yeah, I guessed so... Ah! Ah!", her voice scorned the elf.

***

Lond Cobas, the waters to the south of Dol Amroth

The salty sea drained the last of Aratan's gloom thoughts. The previous week events seemed to vanish with the growing wind that hurled the sail, producing a friendly sound to his ears. A middle-aged Dunadan approached the railing and bent at his side.
"Invigorating, don't you think sailor?"
"Indeed, captain Alvor.", Aratan smiled.
"Tell me Aratan, what was that affair on the docks with that marine?"
"Cleaver? He had been confined for a week. He was upset and spited out things against his judge. A Cambeleg didn't like his words and tried to defend my honour. This time sergeant Fletcher managed to control the men with no further punishments."
"Yes. I didn't like that man's eyes when he strolled aboard. Keep him under watch, at least on my ship."
"Don't worry, captain. He will accomplish his duties or break..."

An hour passed and the wind pushed the Ice Dragon to the south along the green coast of Belfalas.
"Ship ahead, captain!", cried the lookout on the mainmast.
"What are its colours?"
"There's no flag, sir."
"Dromon?"
"No, a caravel..."
"Merchants, maybe?", asked Aratan.
"Probably, this is busy trade route.", answered captain Alvor.

Both men resumed their talk about the mission, but soon they heard the lookout call again, "Sir, they set a new course and are heading for the coast."
"Here? There's no harbour or safe beach for some miles, I presume.", Aratan was intrigued.
"You are right, captain."
"Do you think that they are traders?"
"No trader would head for the low waters and risk the cargo. Unless it would pay for it..."
"Smugglers?"
"Probably, since most pirates prefer smaller and faster ships like the Lighter. In any case this is not a common event. They saw us for sure and are trying to hide among the thousands of small rocks and little islands that abound on this coast. That is their only chance since they cannot match Ice Dragon's speed, nor they would try to challenge a navy warship."

"And what do you suggest about it, captain?", Aratan covered his eyes with the shadow of his hand.
"Would this be a routine patrol, boarding the vessel and inspecting their cargo would be my option. But my mission is to take you to Vinhir, captain. This pursuit can take us half a day. Although my Belfalean blood tells me to stop them, I must have your permission. What do you say commander?"

"You have my permission, captain", Aratan replied, "It will give some of my men a chance to release their energies". From the corner of his mouth, Arata disclosed a grim smile.

***

After a quick inspection of the surroundings, Talis, Blanchon and Fletch returned to the road where the remaining party was gathered around Mara.

"Nothing.", the ranger informed his companions.
"But I am sure I saw something running away...", added Fletch.
"Maybe, but if that is true, the thing hides deep in the woods You will never catch it."
"There was something there.", Blanchon added to Talis surprise.
"I think that we are safe as long as we keep on the road. But as I said, we should not tarry here, or Leif will suffer from it.", Talis's face showed a greater concern than his words expressed.
The Rohirrim was about to protest but Benil promptly inquired,
"And what should we do, then? What are your plans?"

Blanchon was the first to take the word and now spoke aloud in his shrill voice but with no hint of flippancy, "Mara of Linhir, you mentioned Pirates and I would know more. Tell me what you have seen and from what did you run from?". Without waiting for an answer he added, "Fearless Leif did fight with an evil creature and I know not from where it came or what was its purpose here. Tell me no lies." He looked deep into her eyes, his never wandering or blinking, "Unless you wish to hide something from us."

"No, why should I?", she looked disturbed with the mage. Her voice trembled noticeably but she perceived that all faces were waiting for her story. "The pirates? Well, they were the... strangest beings I've ever seen. They came in a huge dark ship that, I believe, is not from this realm. First I saw three of them, they were seated and talking. From time to time they cleaned their hands in a bowl of water that stood on a small wooden table. Rather neatly lot, don't you think?"

Mara threw at her audience the events that had taken place some hours before along with a good supply of her personal feelings about it. The party heard her story from the time she had been in the small cave until she had escaped her pursuers. She still carried the rock that had found in the pool and used it to explain them how she did managed to get freed from the slimy thing.

Still looking to Blanchon, Mara finished her tale, "I don't know these woods, and I didn't want to get lost in the night. So when I had calmed down, I headed to a small path that exits on the edge of the cliff, intended to go to that village. I thought that they would never follow me there. I took some time to find the path but that also allowed me to avoid their searches. From the path I could see the boat down there as well as the small beach. To my surprise, the three pirates that I saw first were there, shouting orders. From the ship came several boats that started to pour out dark warriors... I could not believe my eyes, they must be counted by five scores or more! I ran away as fast as I could and almost fell from the cliff... And believe me, the thought of seeing them jumping from the woods scares the Trolls out of me...".

Talis, whose eyebrows became more and more raised in surprise at the tale, finally took a deep breath. Frowning, he eventually turned to his companions. "Well, I think we can trust this woman's opinions on this matter. We have a tricky decision to make soon my friends. Do we ignore this unfolding problem and go on our way? There is no reason for us to become involved and we might well do to heed Mara's own decision to flee rather than become embroiled in someone else's problem. We could always warn the local captain, Cirlin of what is going on and let him solve it. Or... we choose to once more head straight first into danger!? For my own reasons I would wish to leave Belfalas far behind for a while and seek my fortunes elsewhere but I will abide by the groups decision on this one occasion."

After such an epic speech, Fletch piped up impatiently. "Well before we go on to battle and stop this invasion can we please go get some food". Fletch looked around at his companions plaintively. "Lets get back to the Inn and once in the warmth decide what we need to do!"

"Ah, a wise decision my friend and one that none of us can argue over. To the Inn with us and no more delaying, I say !" answered the tall Ranger. Looking once more to Mara as if gauging her current reaction, he turned to oversee Leif and Lessa.

"I'm with you, Dunadan. If the warrior wants to get healed he has no other option. But do you think that we will be safe there?". Mara passed her quaterstaff over her shoulders and secured it with a leather belt.

"As safe as we're going to be anywhere, if this truly heralds the start of an invasion as Fletch here says," answered the Dunadan over his shoulder, adjusting the saddle straps of Leif's horse.

"Perhaps now is not the time to debate the meaning of safe. At least once in the Inn we'll have walls around us. Not as good as a good burrow but then most of you wouldn't fit". Fletch giggles at his own joke. "Ah well, let's go before my belly complains any more than it is now!"

***

"Full sails.", said captain Alvor.
"FULL SAILS!", cried the first mate at his side.
A sudden frenzied activity followed the order and soon flat sounds claimed that additional canvas was unfolding.
"What's the problem on the mizzen mast, Mister Torway?", asked the captain.
"The rigging is stuck, sir.", replied the first mate. "SAILMASTER TO THE STERNCASTLE!", he shouted.
"AYE, AYE, SIR!", the answer came from the waist deck where a dozen boats were stored. The sailmaster quickly responded to the order and with experienced lightness climbed the mizzen mast to help the young seaman there.

Fully rigged, the Ice Dragon leaned to starboard as he turned towards the coast of Belfalas, now only a green line to the east.
The chase was on.

***

Meneldor stood still whilst listening to Mara's tale. Near the end he glanced up and watched the stars begin to fade into the morning light. When Mara and the others have finished he stopped and looked directly at her once more. "Many thanks Mara for sharing your tale. I offer you my company on a single condition. Forgo your scorn."

"Well, at least you seem polite, unlike the archer.", Mara replied.
"What archer are you talking about?", inquired Meneldor.
"I know nothing about him but that he came from Aspiryand, or something like that. Never believed him, really. He told his name but I forgot, besides, Archer was enough for us. One day he left with that fat merchant, Porus. I never saw him again. If I remember, he had your complexion.". Mara paused and seemed to ponder on her own words, "So, you are telling me that you came from Aspiryand, also?"

The seer walked toward her in a purposeful manner and continued in an authoritative and imposing manner which was somewhat uncharacteristic, "The country of my birth was a great realm, 'til the night fell upon its golden dawn. Little now remains."

Mara seemed more impressed with the green elf than with his words, but the spirited woman didn't bend, "Here, Meneldor. The problem of the archer was that he lived on his dreams. He kept telling how fair his realm used to be, how beautiful the maidens were. The trees sung to him, can you believe it? It was all perfect! Ah! Tell me that! I lived all my childhood in the Grey Street, down there in Linhir, if that means anything to you. Perfect world is a bloody Orc, I say."

Meneldor tone shifted into gentle melancholy "Your scorn is ill-judged and unjust. But come, let us look to the present. Fletch's stomach has been very patient." With that he began to walk towards the village at a gentle pace.

Mara watched the seer walking down the road, her hands on the hips. Her voice regained a playful tone, "Nice chap there, eh guys?"

Benil gave her a friendly tap and went after Meneldor. "Come Bogas, let us go back to our belongings eh! This talk of food has got my stomach rumbling as well. We need to get some more Jerky as well. Plus I think a couple more hours sleep will go down well.".
Lifting his head, the shepherd told to Fletch that had caught his pace,
"I could have offered this Lady here the Jerky, I eat it as well you know. It is just a way I found of carrying meat that did not spoil, but that was my last piece on me. There is a bag of it in my pack if you wish to try it. A Hobbit might not like it though, you have to chew it slowly for a fair while, but I tell you, when you are hungry it is absolutely brilliant."

Also satisfied with Mara's story the white haired mage agreed to return to the Inn if it was the will of the party.
As they walked back he made his feelings clear, "Though to move ahead is the easiest way forward I would like to see more of these pirates. If those creatures in the barn were part of their band or connected somehow they must possess knowledge I do not have."Blanchon had rubbed his bony hands together at that point, "Knowledge." His palourless face had split into a grin and his eyes sparkled with excitement.

***

"SHALLLOW WATERS AHEAD!", cried the lookout.
Two heads turned to the captain.
"We have to round it, sir.", said the first mate.
"Indeed."
"But we will loose the caravel...", complained Aratan.
"There is no other way, Aratan, even for a caravel that was a bold decision. It is a great risk for them, for us... indisputable doom."
"We were so close...".

The first mate walked toward the navigator and with the help of the quartemaster directed the Ice Dragon around the reef.

Aratan watched closely the maneuver.
"Don't worry Aratan, this is the only place where they can hide now. We will catch them at the other side. With this wind they will never reach Belfalas.", the captain told him.
"Unless they land here, captain."
"Then it will be your job to catch them, Aratan..."

***

Leif, remaining on Lessa, seemed spellbound by this woman. His normal curt tongue was stayed by her presence and his eyes followed her every movement.

His companions were already strolling down to Vinhir and he was left alone with her. As if all the conversation had passed at his side, the warrior told her,
"I am Leif Hanirsson and I am pleased to meet you Lady Mara. I thank you for you tender ministrations and wonder if you would like to ride with me back to town, as you seem a little tired by the nights privations. Lessa is a strong horse and I am sure he could bear us both with ease. What say you my Lady?"

Mara smiled and nodded to Leif, "Why not, warrior?"

He reached down with his good arm and held out his hand to her.

Mara's warm touch quickly filled Leif's spirit. But with an acrobatic movement she jumped to Lessa without the warrior's help. Lessa complained but the Rohirrim quickly persuaded the horse, "Hold on, Mara, I don't you to fall and damage your arms as well...".
"Don't worry warrior, I've been in worse places.", she joked.
With a mischievous smile that she could not see, Leif tested the dusty woman with a sudden step of Lessa.
Feeling her confidence melting, Mara quickly followed Leif's suggestion and held tightly to the warrior.

***

While the Ice Dragon rounded the small Island, Aratan followed captain Alvor to the quarter deck. Several closed doors laid to both sides of the corridor and leaded to the best cabins of the ship. Both Dunedain had their quarters here. The captain did not deter his pace and headed to the large door at the end of the corridor that portrayed the arms of the Prince of Belfalas and the White Tree of Gondor. Captain Alvor pushed it and Aratan followed him. This cabin astonished Aratan. It was a small but comfortable library. At the back of the room, four large glassed windows allowed the daylight to fill the room and particularly the big and luxurious dark oak table that laid near the windows. A fixed padded stool under the windows served the table. While Aratan rolled his eyes through the cabin, captain Alvor went to the left shelves and started scanning a wall that was divided in hundreds of small pigeon holes. "Ah! Here it is. Please take a seat, Aratan". From one hole, Alvor produced a cylindrical container.
Taking a seat at Aratan's side, Alvor opened the container and took out a map.
Then he unfolded it and placed it over the table, "Tol Tarneldor!"

Aratan examined the map and quickly analyzed the situation.
"Though my men are trained to land on very unpleasant places, this beach is the perfect site to make an easy landing. It would provide a good base, also."
"Yes.", replied Alvor, "Besides, the Ice Dragon's weapons cannot give support to your men on the other sides of the island, since the height of the cliffs would make it impossible."
"Good. That is settled, then. I'll send Angorn to secure the beach as soon as we arrive. May I have the map?"
"It's yours, captain."

***

Six hours passed since the companions had returned to the Inn of the Night Turtle. While they waited for Cirlin that tended all the villagers' problems, they took the time to rest and refresh. At lunch time Cirlin appeared at the inn, dark eyes showing a lost night of sleep. The elves were already at the dinning room and promptly told their intriguing story, only interrupted by the arrival of Talis and Benil first, then by the, once more, hungry Fletch.

With a great interest Cirlin heard the story without questioning and when all the gathered companions had thrown their personnal views, he asked his aide to fetch a map.

They had been discussion over the map for a while, when a strong but feminine voice welcomed the day for them.

Smiling faces turned to the pair that was walking down the wooden stairs. Leif had a bandage covering his left shoulder and half of the arm. Behind him, Mara revealed for the first time her true image. The dust had been cleaned with warm water, not without some protests and doubts about the need of it. Leif's hint about 'Orc fragrance' persuaded her in the end. Her charm stroke the men and Hobbit but the elves thought that her practical nature and strong voice remained too uncultured in order to consider her beautiful.

"How is your arm, Leif?", asked Benil.
"Better. The pain is gone.", he gave an indebted smile to Mara, "But I won't be able to hold heavy things for a while, though."
"A month.", explained her.
"I will miss my shield in these troubled times..."
"Troubled and urgent."
The faces turned once more to Cirlin. He stood bent over a map at the top of the table, "Join us and draw up your opinion, Lord Hanirsson."
"Lord?", asked Mara showing her light brown eyes.
"Maybe the headmaster recognized my brooch. I am but a Lord's son."
"Have a seat, your highness.", Fletch taunted at Leif as he showed an empty place at his side.
Before taking the seat amid Fletch and Benil, Leif placed an inch between his face and the Hobbit's. "Beware, peasant, or my soldiers will cut your fat belly and pull it out from your mouth."
The Hobbit quickly placed his hands over the stomach and his face twisted with the thought.

"Here is the map of the Vinhir surroundings that I was showing to your companions.", Cirlin proceeded. "There are two major roads from Vinhir. The one through the Blossom Hills, that leads to Dol Amroth, and the other that goes to Linhir, the great door of Belfalas. The Bar-en-Hyarmen, a major stronghold of the Prince's army, can be quickly reached from this road. There's also a small path that follows the coastline and serves the Watchtower of Metrast that stands five miles to the southeast.

From his position, Fletch could not see the invisible lines that the headmaster traced over the map. Quickly, he jumped onto the table and seized the opportunity to grab a bit of Leif's roast.
The Rohirrim was already immersed on the map and did not noticed it,
"How could they reach this small bay without being spotted?"
"I don't know, but somehow they did it. They managed to avoid both our navy and the vigil of the Watchline..."
"Do you really believe that it may be an invasion?", asked Talis.
"Well, the Corsairs tried it before, more than once, as a matter of fact. During the year of the 'Great Winter' three fleets from Umbar and Harad invaded Belfalas and managed to reach the river Isen before being thrown to the water, two years after their arrival. The soldiers of Minas Tirith had to force their way to Dol Amroth that stood besieged all that time. The Prince's capital stood but the blood was spilled with such cruelty that even now that war remains as one of the darkest moments of Gondor, and the worst of Belfalas for sure."
"We'd better warn the people, then...", said the scared Benil.
"Wait. We must be sure first. Most Corsairs and Pirates just wish to loot our villages. Vinhir has escaped them until now because these lands are well patrolled and the the Watchtower of Metrast remains a major post on the Watchline. But history tells us to be careful. To the southeast there are some ruins of an old watchtower. It is said that Corsairs destroyed it before it could launch the warning, a long time ago, and that they put Old Vinhir afire..."
"So, you must move quickly...", expressed Leif.
"We? No. There are only three men with military training here in Vinhir. And that includes me. The other villagers are good and strong folk but they are no match for a professional Corsair or veteran pirate. No. We must warn Lord Acthelion. But we are already too few to keep watch and prepare Vinhir. Being the only other blades at my dispose, I ask you to take the warning to the castle. At least some of you. The others can always give us a hand or scout those dark warriors... What is your word, my friends?".

***

From the upper deck, Aratan watched sergeant Angorn jumping out of the first boat that reached the Golden Beach, shortly followed by a bunch of fully armed Cambeleg. Several other boats along the coast dropped three score marines, mostly Cambeleg but the Cudin were also present.

Sergeant Angorn found no opposition and quickly stabilized a beach head. Soon he was signaling to the ship that they could start dropping the supplies while his men scouted the nearby areas.

On the bay, a deserted Caravel balanced slowly.
"Sir, I don't trust on pirates or smugglers and I tell you, I know some of them!", said Fletcher.
"Neither do I, sergeant. Take a Cudin line and board the caravel. I'll go personally after those smugglers. I'll leave you the 3rd Cambeleg Erith to help guarding the beach."
"Yes, sir. My men are the best if you want to deal with cunning enemies.", smirked Fletcher, "But I must admit that on open ground those Cambeleg can hold anyone at bay just by showing their fluffy heads..."
"Sergeant?"
"Sir?"
"I don't want more problems."
"Leave it to me, sir."

***

"I will ride this very moment to the castle.", Leif replied to Cirlin. "While there may be fighting afoot, in my present condition, I would be more a hindrance than a help, besides I am far superior to any of you on a horse!"
He looked at Cirlin, "Give me your dispatches sir and I will ride for support."

"Well said, Lord Hanirsson. And I thank you on behalf of the villagers of Vinhir.", Cirlin said already turning to the young Dunadan that stood behind him, "Falco, get my parchments, quill and seal boy."
"Yes, mister Cirlin.". In a moment the youngster was out of the inn again.

"Good sir, I may be small in body but I am an able warrior and at times scout. My services are yours to use as you see fit", the Hobbit proclaimed heatedly.
"Thank you, noble warrior.", Cirlin said in a grave tone.

Fletch stood up on the table and sweeped a bow. As he righted himself he stole yet more of Leif's roast. "I think that , -mmpg grun-, I , nice roast, speak for the rest too. We will help in any way we can!"

Cirlin gave a faint acknowledged smile to the Hobbit, "Lord Hanirsson will take no longer than one hour to reach Bar-en-Hyarmen's gates, if he rides fast, and I am sure that my seal will take the missive to Lord Acthelion immediately. He is an old and competent General. By late afternoon we shall have his support, I'd say. But I don't know how long the dark warriors will take to reach Vinhir. They probably are not heading this way or just missed it, because they landed six hours ago. Now I regret taking so long to come to your presence, master Blanchon. I wish I had answered earlier your request to be here."

Blanchon nodded with the slightest sign of disdain, but with natural resolution, Cirlin proceeded,
"They may be preparing themselves and waiting for the night. Fortune has been with us until now but it won't last forever. We'd better see what they are up to. Your courage has shown the true blood of a warrior, Fletch, but if you volunteer to scout the woods, follow my advise and take someone with you."

"I will go.", said Mara.
"You don't nee...", Leif quickly replied but his words became lost on the dusty corners of the inn.
"I will.", repeated Mara, giving Fletch a slap.
"Cof! Cof! Be gently, miss!", cried the Hobbit almost choking with the last bite. A quick sip on Leif's beer solved the problem.
With an acrobatic jump, Fletch came to the floor and looked up to Mara. "Don't you worry miss, I'll protect you.". He threw her an honest smile.

"For those who don't want to go with Fletch, please stay in Vinhir. We will need you if Vinhir gets undesirable guests.", Cirlin asked.

"Well, I would very much like to accompany you and any others that may follow Fletch. These pirates intrigue me. We should all go, save Leif.". Blanchon raised to his feet with a stern face and looked pointedly at any fighter types at the table. "Though Leif is too proud to admit it, he should not have been left alone to fight those beasts in the barn. He nearly paid with his life. If any of you fighters had not been such gutless cowards you could have gone to his aid either by my aid or by using your brains. If we are to survive in this coming venture then more support for your fellows is needed.". He seated down and awaited the angry response, a calculating expression only partially obscured by his crossed hands resting on his chin.

Enraged, the shepherd got up and pointed to Blanchon, "You may have a good point there, but I have to disagree with you. A fighter I am not, I am mainly a shepherd, though I can fight when needs must. As to being gutless, there is a saying I heard as a babe. Only Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread. Now I take that to mean, check out the situation, but not Leif here, he rushed in like a mad bull at a gate before anyone else had time to assist him. If you were watching you would have realized that I was checking outside and taking care of my dog. Now I admit I am a little apprehensive over the thought of these corsairs, but I will assist in any way I can if it comes to a fight. Maybe you my friend are the one that is scared of your own hide being threatened, and that is why you are hitting out at the rest of us."

As if realizing that he has made a spectacle of himself Benil quickly seated down very red in the face. "Oh Bogas my friend, why did we come here. We were better off tending our sheep.". Turning to the Hobbit he said more calmly, "Fletch, I will assist you in the woods, I have a knack of smelling things out, so if the wind is blowing right, I will smell them before they even see us, plus Bogas here is excellent at tracking. Better than sitting around here being accused of things anyway."

Fletch smiled, "Well at least that's settled. Oh Blanchon thanks for the complement I've been called many things but never gutless." The Hobbit giggled. "Now lets get on with business and get to the root of these troubles.."

***

While Aratan searched the outskirts of the Windy Woods, Sergeant Angorn had already marched eastward to provide some cover to Aratan's group. Having found no evidence that there were enemies ambushed in the woods, Aratan quickly pushed towards Angorn. An hour had passed since they had moved from the Golden Beach when both groups joined.

"Welcome, sir.", sergeant Angorn saluted Aratan, "Here's a message from Fletcher.", he handed a small piece of paper to the captain. Aratan quickly opened it and read.

"That sergeant Fletcher...", Aratan said squashing the message in his hand.
"What now, sir?", asked Fletcher.
"He already managed to make a death. Now I hope that this men are really outlaws, or I will have some troubles explaining the incident."
"Sir, I admit that I don't like him very much, but his strange methods already gave proof, I was told. It is said that the Cudin suffered very few casualties since they were formed, thirty years ago, and they are used to have hard jobs..."
"Let us discuss this matters at other time, sergeant, we must move on."

***

Silently, Meneldor observed a beam of the noon sun invading the inn and slowly climbing the headmaster's back. He sensed its heat and closed the eyes for a long time, while his companions assessed the situation.
The seer was pushed towards his own deep mind and he seemed to drift while his lips moved without a sound.

As the beam left Cirlin's back, Meneldor's lids slowly raised and he became aware of the discussion around him.

***

The marines had been marching eastward once more. They stopped only briefly while Aratan gave instruction to the 2nd Cambeleg Line. Those Dunedain were expected to guard the gap between the Ered Hith and the Windy Woods.

While Aratan was securing their possible retreat, another navy pigeon appeared. This time Aratan took the message himself and rolled his eyes through it.

"South Haradrim? On a caravel?", Aratan seemed confused. Before resuming the march Aratan sent the pigeon back, since they were almost out of contact range with the Ice Dragon and he didn't want the trained bird to get lost.
"Marines ready!", cried Angorn thirty meters ahead.
A force of sixty two marines moved on.

***

"Well said both Blanchon and Cirlin!" said Leif. He took the seal and message from the Headmaster and turned to head upstairs for his gear, but turning to Benil he smirked, "Better a Bull, than a sniveling sheep, Shepherd! And as for smelling them out, are you sure you will be able to over your own smell?" he smiled and then headed upstairs. He was no longer than two minutes and returned wearing all of his equipment. <
"Tell me where you will be as I will meet up with the rest of upon my return from Bar-en-Hyarmen."

"What about the cave I've told you about? We could spy the beach from there.", said Mara.
"They might have found it already, besides that place must be a bit too crowded now...", opposed Talis.
"There is a hunter's shack to the southeast. You can find it easily if you follow the small path that heads to the Metrast Watchtower and turn north on the milestone.", said Cirlin with his finger on the approximate position on the map.
"And why not this inn?", asked Blanchon. "Come here first, since you must cross Vinhir to follow the path. If you don't find news with the innkeeper wait for us on the shack until the sunset, before returning."

"I will, mage.", replied the Rohirrim. "Give me a hand here, Benil." The shepherd still gnawed the crude words of the warrior, but his helpful heart and good nature took the upper hand and he helped Leif to secure his green shield to his back. But he also said to his own surprise, "Be warned, Leif, in my homeland the shepherds hunt the wolves...".

The warrior tested the leather belts that Benil had fasten but did not answered or gratified him, instead, he went to Mara and took her hand. He looked into her eyes for a second and whispered something to her. Then he turned and marched for the door..."I will be back in under two hours, count on it my companions!"

He went through the door and soon the sound of thundering hooves could be heard, rapidly fading into the distance.

***

One hour of unsuccessful scouting brought the armed group to the south slopes of the Ered Hith. While the men rested for a brief moment, Angorn took a small party and searched the area.

The marines were preparing to move on once more when Angorn appeared and reported to his commander,
"Sir, we found proofs of the smugglers. Some went northeast, probably to the Northern Woods, but the main body climbed the mountains. I estimate that they number forty or fifty men, total."


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