"Aye Serre, that was my intent and my orders."
They set off down the road at the trot, as fast as the crunching snow would permit in safety. On the way, Jak continued his description of the elves' arrival.
"We was on patrol, at the plains by the farak gorin, and were homeward bound when we seen the two elves on horseback. They looked like drowned rats, Serre, snow-soaked and cold, and scared as rabbits. There's ten of us in the patrol, and when we rode up, we seen the two of 'em reach out, and hold each other like we was Morloch's men about to breathe upon 'em."
Gwyn threaded her way around a drift, and Gawain said "Go on, Jak, what next."
"Well, we spoke to 'em Serre, and told 'em as not to fear, that we meant no harm. The woman elf…"
"Elfin." Gawain corrected gently.
"Sorry, Serre. The elfin, she says something. Don't know what it was, but it ended in your name Serre."
"Eem frith am Traveller?"
"That's it Serre! Then she says something else, with your Lady's name. We know your Lady being an elf and all, sorry Serre, elfin, so we thought we'd bring the two of 'em up to Tarn, but they won't budge! They dismounted, gave us their bows, and then just stood there in the snow! Nothing we can do will shift 'em Serre."
"Are they injured?"
"Don't think so, Serre. Just cold and wet and not looking too happy. When I left, the Captain was trying to give 'em brandy and food, don't know if they've taken it though. Like scared rabbits, the pair of 'em."
They pressed on urgently, through the snow-clogged tracks and down the winding route to the gentle slopes where Threlland met Mornland. Gawain could see them in the distance, and Gwyn thrust forward, whinnying long and loud. Heads swung in his direction, the small group of Threlland guardsmen parted, and in the middle of the patrol, he saw two fair-haired elves, standing close to each other, dressed entirely inappropriately for winter, let alone the plains of Juria which they must have crossed.
It wasn't until he was reining in that he recognised the bedraggled elfin, shivering and snow-wet and pale, standing arm-in-arm with the elf Gawain took to be her husband from the braid in his hair.
"Meeya!" Gawain called, dismounting.
"Longsword, you know these elves?" Captain Sarek asked.
"I do, Captain. This is Meeya, once thalangard, an elven honour-guard, to my Lady."
"They have refused our blankets and our food, Serre, and nothing we can do will persuade them from this spot."
Gawain nodded, and strode forward. "Meeya, mifrith."
"Traveller…" Meeya whispered, her teeth chattering. "Mifrith Elayeen-thalin?"
"She lives, Meeya, all is well. Come, it is safe, these are my friends, we shall take you to Elayeen."
Gawain glanced at the guard standing helplessly with warm blankets, and ushered him forward.
This time, the elves accepted them, and when another stepped forward with Jurian brandy, a gentle nod from Gawain was all it took for Meeya and her husband to drink.
"Mihoth, Valin." Meeya announced, her cheeks flushing with the effects of the brandy, indicating her husband.
The elf bowed slightly, and Gawain held out his hand. "Mifrith Valin. Well met."
The elf took Gawain's arm, and bowed again.
"Come, let's to Tarn, and a warm fire."
"Serre," Captain Sarek stepped forward, and then beckoned one of his men forward carrying two elven longbows, "We should like to return these to your friends."
Gawain smiled, and Sarek smiled back. Meeya and Valin had clearly 'surrendered' to the Threlland patrol, and when their weapons were handed back to them, they were bemused.
"Threlland ifrith, Meeya." Gawain smiled.
"In truth? They will not kill us?"
It was the Threllanders turn to look bemused.
"In truth," Gawain smiled reassuringly at the shivering elves wrapped in their blankets. "They will not kill you."
They mounted, and began the long climb up the western slopes. News of their arrival had not preceded them, and the weather meant that the marketplace was quiet when they rode into the town. Hooves clopped on icy cobbles, and the patrol drew back a respectful distance while Gawain led the way to Rak's house. At a nod from Gawain, Captain Sarek dismounted, and strode forward.
"Best you knock, Sarek, and make your report."
Sarek looked confused for a moment, but nodded, turned and knocked. The door was opened by Rak himself, and he looked momentarily alarmed on seeing Gawain seated on Gwyn over the Captain's shoulder. Gawain's heart sank. He was still not welcome.
"My Lord," Sarek bowed. "On patrol, we came across two elves, who are friends of Longsword and his Lady. They are here."
Sarek stepped back, and indicated the two elves still mounted, still wrapped in blankets.
Rak's eyes widened, and he turned and called into the house. "My lady, fetch lady Elayeen, she has visitors!"
Gawain indicated that Meeya and Valin should dismount, and they did so, still bemused and still nervous. Rak stepped forward to greet them, noting their dishevelled state. Merrin hurried down the hall, Elayeen close behind her. For a brief moment, Elayeen's eyes locked with Gawain's. His heart stopped, he caught his breath; she was radiant, her eyes bright and alive and for a fleeting moment, full of joy…and then they clouded, and she glanced down.
"Mifrith Elayeen!" Meeya cried, and rushed forward.
"Meeya!" Elayeen gasped, and in moments the two friends were hugging one another. "Valin!" Elayeen cried, and the elf smiled broadly, and bowed, and stepped forward.
The air was filled with elven joy and their lilting language as they babbled happily at each other, and then Merrin and Rak were ushering them all into the house and out of the cold. Sarek received a brief commendation from Rak, and Gawain a brief sorrowful shake of the head, and then the door was closed against them.
Sarek mounted, and ordered his men back to barracks.
"Thank you, Captain." Gawain sighed. "You and your men handled them well, with tact and compassion."
Sarek nodded his thanks at the compliment. "Did they truly think we would kill them, Serre?"
"They did. For them to have left Elvendere at all is a wonder. For them to have come to Threlland is a miracle."
"Then it must be on a matter of great importance for them, believing that they faced death in so doing."
"Aye." Gawain thought ruefully, "Great importance indeed."
"Well, Serre. Honour to you."
"And to you, Captain."
Sarek saluted and rode away, leaving Gawain to watch while Lyas, the groom's apprentice, led the two shivering elven horses away to the stables. Gwyn snorted.
"No, Gwyn. There's no room for you in the stables now." Gawain sighed, "No room for me in the house. And no room at the inn. Come then, Ugly, let's up to the Point while it's yet light."
Gwyn clopped away from the house with a snort, and Gawain did not look back. He dare not, for he knew Elayeen would not be there smiling up at him. But he dared hope it might be true, and did not wish to prove it a lie by turning his head.
At the Point, he dismounted, and sat upon a boulder, the longsword drawn, its point pressed into the frozen ground while he rested his chin on its pommel. The view was disappointing. Where before, in Autumn, the farak gorin stretched dark brown and shimmering clear to the horizon and the base of the Teeth, there was nothing but a white blanket of snow as far as the eye could see. Gawain wondered briefly whether Morloch's army had abandoned their assault on the north side of the mountains. He doubted it. Doubtless they were hammering still, chipping away relentlessly, dying of cold and exposure, yet driven by aquamire and the thirst for fresh supplies of that evil substance…
For two hours Gawain sat there, wrapped in his cloak, his hands on the pommel and his chin on his hands while Gwyn grazed on tufts of grass where it lay protected against the snow at the base of the trees around them. He thought of the plans he had already set in motion. Briefly. Mostly he thought of Elayeen, and how fresh and full of life she had looked…