Nerwen the Green and the Search for the Entwives #wattys2019

Chapter LVIII: Eryn Rhun

Chapter LVIII: Eryn Rhûn

Proceeding in an almost perfectly straight line north to north-eastward, Aryon and Nerwen needed something less than a fortnight to get to the southern border of Eryn Rhûn; the Avar prince was highly thrilled to see again the places where he was born and where he had lived all his life before meeting Nerwen, and now he looked about avidly, yearning to recognise this or that piece of familiar landscape.

"Halt!" they heard a loud female voice, coming from amidst the trees, "Who's coming on the borders of the realm of the Kindi?"

About twenty Elves, in green and brown attire, came forth from behind the trees, their bows fully extended, with notched arrows aiming at them. Aryon started and pulled Allakos' reins, while Thilgiloth stopped with no other signal than Nerwen's thought. Túdhin bared his teeth in a silent growl, while Kerra froze behind the Chargeress' tail, her ears stiff. Olbranch and Fimbrethil, a little at the rear, simply stood stock-still.

"I'm Aryon Morvacor," the prince announced in a loud voice, "brother and once First Sword to Queen Eliénna."

A female Elf with long brown hair approached them with strong steps, scrutinizing the black-dressed wayfarer with plain mistrust. Noticing he too was an Elf, she relaxed slightly and lowered her bow.

"We'll verify your claim later," she declared, turning her attention to his apparently Human escort, "Meanwhile, who's this?"

She said it with a contemptuous tone that annoyed Aryon deeply.

"This is Nerwen the Green of the Order of the Istari, as well as my wife," he growled, "and you'll show her proper respect!"

The Elf hesitated, intimidated by his vehemence; but her duty was keeping off Eryn Rhûn the unwanted strangers, therefore she stared again at the prince and replied:

"I will do so if and when your identities will be confirmed: if you truly were the First Sword of the High Sovereign, you know the law."

To this, he had no objections; after all, the Elf was simply following orders, the same he followed himself for all the years he had been in the queen's service. Hence, he nodded curtly and said:

"Sure. And what might be your name and rank?"

"I'm Erediel, Captain of the Southern Marches," she answered proudly.

"Fine, captain: send a messenger to Bârlyth, announcing my and Lady Nerwen's return. Add to this that we're in the company of two Entwives."

Erediel furrowed her brow and looked around; it was apparent she had taken the two Enyd for trees, even if she had probably wondered from where they had come, as before they weren't there.

"Is this some kind of joke?" she asked harshly.

"Absolutely not," Nerwen answered in a sharp tone, annoyed by Erediel's irritating attitude; she turned to the First Keeper and her deputy and invited then in Entish, "Come forth."

The captain started at the sound of this very unusual tongue, and started even harder seeing a birch and an elm moving and advancing towards them. She withdrew hastily, aiming again with her bow, unaware of the complete futility of her gesture.

"Stop!" Aryon commanded her imperiously, "They're not enemies to take down, exactly like us."

The Entwives halted next to Nerwen, as Túdhin kept his eyes on Erediel, tense, ready to leap at her throat if his two-legged friend would ask him to do it.