When one is raised by a Ranger of Ithilien, and when one's mother is a Shieldmaiden of Rohan, and furthermore when one's most cherished adult companion is a Wood-Elf with many centuries of war and privation beneath his belt, one has a better sense of travel preparation than the average child; thus Fastred found himself two mornings after that fateful dinner with his small satchel packed, his escape route premeditated, and his dream of freedom firmly entrenched.  He had taken stock of the situation, and carefully planned out what he would need for his day's journey, whether things went well or ill; he had surreptitiously secreted bread and cheese beneath his tunic and smuggled them up to his room; he had filled his travel flask with clean water and sharpened the dagger his sister Hísimë had given him; he had most circumspectly tested his tinder-box and bow-string; he had collected all the spare arrows he could find, including some from his Lord Father's private stock (he knew well they would function, for had not he inherited his father's bow from when he was a child?); he had packed his small bed-roll; he had even fed Karakse extra from the grain box to compensate the steed for a day's ride and checked and polished all his tack.  He had, for he was an orderly boy, thought of writing out this list and ticking his tasks off one by one, but he possessed a secret horror of anyone ascertaining his plot, and thus in the dark hours of the night he could be found reciting his errands one by one, anxiously double-checking to be sure he had missed nothing.

He considered leaving a note telling his parents where he was going, but then bethought to himself perhaps they would pursue him, either with a guard or by themselves (the former alternative would be degrading; the latter, terrifying); so he decided he would leave the telling up to Lord Lassah, who surely would write to them upon Fastred's arrival, saying he had their son, who had sought asylum within Dol Galenehtar's walls, and would succor and protect him from any harm.  Indeed Fastred's secret thoughts concerning this were quite elaborate; he saw himself riding post-haste toward the Elven citadel, with guards holding wide the gates and cheering him on; he further saw himself approaching Lord Lassah's dais, grandly throwing back his travel-stained cloak, his hand on his dagger, whilst Elves in bright array stood respectfully by; he heard himself give his oft-rehearsed speech:  "I claim sanctuary behind your noble walls, and beg indulgence and protection from harm."  And then would Lord Lassah with tears in his eyes approach him, embracing him and calling him "son," and order a great feast be prepared for the brave young lord who had in desperation called upon his dearest friends, and then – well, by that point in Fastred's fantasies he had drifted off to sleep, so that he never got to eat his dream-feast, which disappointed him, for the cooks and pantries and cellars of Dol Galenehtar were the stuff of legend and all who sojourned in that land found themselves upon leaving a good two stone the heavier.

He had thought at first to leave at night when all in the palace slept, but realized after due reflection that such an act would immediately arouse suspicion should he be seen; he therefore resolved to leave in that magical hour betwixt the valet's waking him with a hot breakfast and his tutor's arrival. He judged that if he ate quickly, he might have a full hour and a half with which to secure his departure before Iordred came in with his books and scrolls, and had arranged within his mind what he would say, should anyone question him:  "I am only going for a ride on Karakse before my lessons; it is so fine a morning."  Fortunately for Fastred the day he had chosen for his removal was fine indeed; the sun had yet to peer over the craggy peaks of the Ephel Dúath but the sky was pearly blue and streaked with golden clouds, and there was a fresh wind blowing up from the south.  Fastred peered out his bedroom window, his heart full of mingled excitement and shame; now that the time had come to leave, he was not so certain he wanted to; how could he leave behind his family and his friends and his city?  "I must be resolved," he told himself firmly, pushing the traitorous thoughts down, and seating himself at his little table he quickly ate his breakfast, though upon reflection slipped some extra slices of toast and rashers in his serviette for later.

When the valet had collected his tray and gone Fastred pulled out his sack from beneath his cot.  In it he had packed his good doublet and extra linens; his favorite book, which Lord Lassah had given him, The Valaquenta; a marvelous collection of animal's teeth that he had gotten from Halgond the previous winter; his stolen food; several gold coins and twelve silver pieces wrapped in a chamois cloth; his tinder-box; and lastly a striped rock flecked with glittery bits that Théodred had found by the river, and in an act of profound selflessness presented to his beloved brother.  Beneath Fastred's riding cloak (a gift from his mother, with a brass horsehead clasp holding it beneath his chin) he secreted his bow and arrow, though he hung his dagger and flask upon his belt, reasoning no one would question their presence there.  When he was done he stood before the cheval glass and straightened his brown tunic.  He did not look so bad, he thought; no one would ever guess he was planning to run away; he looked only like a boy out for a morning ride.  He was pleased with his preparations and truly believed he could not but succeed.  Yet despite his resolve and anticipation he was afflicted with a deep sadness, for that he loved the most was what he turned his back upon – his family and home; he hoped they would understand, though he was fairly certain that they would not.  After all, what could parents understand, who willingly let go their eldest child to the wilds of the North?  No, his Lord Father and Lady Mother would not understand; therefore there was no use in trying to explain himself.  With a sad sigh he opened the door of his room and slipped out.

No one challenged him in the halls of the palace; he saw but few servants, and those were engaged in their morning rituals of the sweeping out of fireplaces, the laying down fresh of rushes, and the carrying of meals hither and yon.  To his relief he did not see anyone from his family, for he knew that if he once laid eyes upon them he would crumble, and he had planned too much to let such weak feelings be his ruin.  So with his heart in his throat he traversed the dark back stairs to the door leading out to the east courtyard; only a few chickens were out, having already broken their fast; they regarded the boy with looks of beady-eyed contempt and let him hurry past on the dew-slicked stone.

Hoping the groomsmen were busy elsewhere, Fastred went to the stables, trying hard not to run; he did not want to attract any undue attention.  He let himself in through the back door and took a deep breath; he loved the smell of hay and horses and other such homely scents, and a rich golden light filtered through the barred windows, calming his heart; he could hear the other horses shuffling about in the hay, or nickering to one another. He passed through the hall, sparing a quick scratch between the eyes for his sister's mare Goermeril, who looked at him in surprise over her gate; then Fastred opened the door to Karakse's stable.  Windfola, his Lady Mother's first destrier, raised his head over his own door and watched him with dull eyes; he was very old, and had long since been relegated to a warm hayrick in winter and a quiet pasture in summer.   Karakse seemed very strong and hale indeed by comparison; he pricked up his ears when Fastred entered, and came forward eagerly, snuffing and nudging at Fastred's tunic in search of some sweet thing for him to eat.  Fastred absently petted the horse's nose, and taking him by the halter led him from the stable to the front room.  His horse's huge hooves clattered loudly on the stone floor, kicking up old straw and musty dirt; he hoped the groomsmen were not about.  "I really have no other option open to me," he said to himself again, fighting back a growing feeling of shame; "I must not go to Rohan, and I cannot stay here; Dol Galenehtar is mine only choice."  He began to be afraid someone would come, so he tacked Karakse as quickly as possible, his hands shaking; when a mourning dove hooted dolefully in one of the dovecotes he jumped, his heart hammering.  At last Karakse was ready; he had on bridle and saddle and numnah, and was looking round the back courtyard, nostrils flaring, catching perchance some of Fastred's own excitement and eager to go; seeing this, and descrying the way clear to the alley behind the palace, Fastred mounted and led Karakse out through the postern into the city.

So far Fastred had seen no one out of doors; this comforted him, and he urged his horse into a trot.  Karakse's fullered hooves made what seemed to Fastred a horrible racket on the pavers; however none but housewives sweeping their stoops paid him any mind as he passed, looking up and nodding politely to the young lord.  Once before gaining the east gate Fastred espied the sops-in-wine, who knew him, and his heart turned to lead within his breast; however the man but waved once, and went back to trundling his cart, his face downcast and uncaring.

Fastred breathed a great sigh of relief when he got to the gates.  They had opened at dawn, as was the custom thereabouts, and the gatekeeper was engaged in some task in his house and did not even mark Fastred's passing; Fastred and Karakse crossed the shining span of the bridge to the east bank unchallenged; the boy was so troubled in his mind, and anxious lest he be caught, that he scarce noticed the silky dark water beneath them, nor the great white egrets standing about the reeds on the far bank.  Fastred began to grow nervous again when they got to the guardhouse on the far end of the bridge; however the guard glanced up and saw naught but a boy on a horse out for an early-morning ride, and waved him through.

Fastred took a deep breath.  The sun had just cleared the tips of the Ephel Dúath and bathed Osgiliath in light; his city when he turned to look at it shone like a white jewel set in the liquid silver of the Anduin, the gilt spires of the campaniles glinting and the gleaming marble so bright it hurt his eyes.  How he loved Osgiliath!  How he yearned to run through the cobbled streets dim and blue in shadow, to trace out the ancient patterns on the walls made by both men and war; how he longed to turn Karakse's head and gallop back across the bridge, back to his home!  But then he remembered his Lord Father's mandate and he hardened his heart.  Go to Rohan?  Never!  If he could not live in Osgiliath at least he could stay in Ithilien, though he cross demesnes to so do.  Had he asked he was sure Lord Lassah would say yea; therefore there was no need to ask.  Turning his back on Osgiliath Fastred clucked to Karakse, who had already begun to fidget with impatience, and boy and horse headed down the winding dirt road toward the forest.

The eastern settlement, built on the fertile plain betwixt bridge and wood, was new, and the folk there both brave and a little strange; others in Osgiliath thought them foolhardy to so dwell beneath the mountains of Shadow, and wagged their heads at the huts and houses, the piers and pastures.  But those who resided on the eastern shore of the Anduin laughed at their chary neighbors and said:  "Did not the Dark Lord hate Elves more than Men?  And we have Elves a-plenty betwixt us and his land." For their parts the Elves of Dol Galenehtar took especial care of Lord Faramir's folk on their western borders; 'twas they with whom the Elven merchants traded first and best, they to whom were given the grandest and richest gifts, and they for whom the Elven minstrels reserved their newest and finest songs.  Fastred preferred the peasantry upon the eastern shore himself; anyone who enjoyed the company of Elves was to his mind a superior person, and he had gained the reputation there of being both open-handed and friendly with the settlers there.  So he crept through the outskirts of the settlement as carefully as could be; he had no desire to be recognized by its citizens, who would surely point out to his father's rangers where the young lord had gone.  He passed from the last field beneath the boughs of the wood, and was just believing himself to be in the clear, and to breathe a bit more easily, when with dismay he heard running footsteps behind him; he was sure he had been caught and would be brought forthwith to face his father's wrath.  However when he took courage and turned he saw not the familiar faces of farmers or vassals but only a small girl in a ragged dress running to him, her dark hair flying behind her.  She seemed very thin and pale to his eyes, and Fastred was dismayed to descry her soiled hands and knees; she looked as though she had been digging in the dirt, perhaps attempting to unearth roots of some sort.  He knew there were some small handful of the destitute in all areas of his father's demesne despite great efforts to feed and clothe everyone, and to witness such poverty so close to his own great home, whilst clothed in warm wool and full of eggs and toast, was nigh unbearable.  He turned Karakse and slipped down off his saddle, waiting till she approached.

"O sir!" she panted, coming to a halt and holding her side, puffing and blowing.  "I so feared I should not catch you!  O sir, have you naught to spare my brother and me?  For my father was drowned last week and my mother had nothing to give us for supper last night, and has nothing to give us for breakfast this morning either.  I do not mind for myself so much, but my brother is very small, and he is hungry, and when he asks for food my mother cries."

Realizing by her carefree address she had not recognized him Fastred took heart.  "Why certainly!" he cried, and turned immediately to his sack.  "I have food here, enough to feed him and you and your mother all three."  He brought out his purloined bread and cheese, wrapped in a scrap of linen, and showed it to her.  "It is not much – " he began apologetically, but the girl laughed and clapped her hands and said:

"Why that is more than we have eaten all week!  O sir, you are certain you can spare so much?  This is a feast!"

"Of course!" said Fastred, cut to the quick; he did not know what it was like to be hungry, and it had just occurred to him that, had he not been in the process of running away, he could have brought her plaint himself before his Lord Father and so improved her fortunes.  "Perchance I might mention it to Lord Lassah," he thought, handing the girl his food; "perchance he might send some Elves to succor her."  "What is your name?" he asked, while the girl carefully wrapped the bread and cheese in her apron.

"Beraen," she said, giving him a quick smile.  "O thank you, sir; I so hoped you could help us!  The Valar bless you for your kindness!"  She turned to go, but then when Fastred put his hand upon his sack he felt the serviette.  "Wait!" he cried, and she turned; Fastred ran to her, and gave her the serviette.  "Here are four good fatty rashers," he said, "and some buttered toast, though it is cold.  But now you will have some meat for your meal."

"Sir!" the girl exclaimed, her thin face flushed with pleasure.  "Such riches!  Why, I have not tasted rashers in well over a year!  You will surely be blessed, sir; no one else has given us so much.  I only wish I could give you something in return!"

"You may," said Fastred eagerly.  "Will you tell no one of my passage?  I wish to travel in secret, and do not want anyone following me.  Can you do that for me, Beraen?"

"I can and will, sir," said the girl stoutly.  "You have spared nothing and given us much.  It is the least I can do for you, sir."  She cocked her head then, looking for all the world like a little bedraggled wren; she asked, "And what is your name, sir?"

Fastred gaped, then answered quickly, "Halgond."

"Ah!"  The girl smiled.  "Then none shall know Halgond passed here."  And giving him a wave of her hand she was off, clutching her treasure close; Fastred breathed a sigh of relief.

"There!" he said to Karakse, who was eating early clover by the roadside.  "I knew that food should come in handy; I have eaten well today, and she not at all. What matters it if I suffer the pangs of hunger upon this short journey?  Better I am deprived and so give to those who cannot provide for themselves.  And this way I know she will guard my passage; she owes it me, and seems clever enough to confound any who might question her.  O I hope Lord Lassah can help her poor mother! It is a nobleman's greatest duty to feed the poor – Lord Lassah said that, you know, Karakse, and he is middling wise, so I suppose it must be true."  Karakse, being a horse, did not reply, so Fastred mounted and rode deeper into the woods.

He had been that way many times before of course; from infancy had his noble parents brought him to the Elves of Dol Galenehtar for visits short and lengthy; betimes Fastred would stay in Legolas' tower for a month at a time, toddling round the white halls and green gardens and lisping out his Elvish to the jolly laughing dwellers in the wild; as he grew older it became a great treat for him to so do, to play upon the hills and in the streams, to ride behind Legolas on his great black destrier as he inspected the olive groves and vineyards and herb gardens, to play the lute and practice his marksmanship and eat bread-and-milk in the starry evenings upon the upper balcony of the great tower.  Always before had the wood seemed to him a friendly and magical place, for he had ever traveled in company with his mother and father then, and a great company of Rangers; even in the dark had there been torches and lanterns, and the merry voices of his people had mingled with the welcoming cries from their Elvish neighbors, making the forest of Ithilien innocuous and secure.  Fastred had never traveled the long forest road alone before.  He had never seen how dark it was beneath the looming firs, how the glossy thick branches crowded out the light, how the shadows beneath the brakes rustled and clicked with secret movement.  He had never before noted how the low cry of the owl, or the guttural voice of the quail, or the shattering bolt of a frightened rabbit broke the heavy silence, and when he heard the far-off shriek of a wild cat he jumped and put his hand on his bow.  Karakse did not seem overly concerned, though, so he quieted, and attempted to still his hammering heart.  He consoled himself instead with thoughts of his arrival, how the ladies of the court, Seimiel and Hirilcúllas and Dúrfinwen, would exclaim over his bravery and kiss and pet him, and how proud Lord Lassah would be, that he had traveled the whole way alone and with no one to help him.  "How courageous he is!" the women would cry, and Fastred felt his heart lift within him.  It would be a very fine thing to be thought brave, even if it were just the ladies who said so.

He could barely track the course of the sun, hidden as it was behind the thick branches; however after some hours he exited the fir forest and found himself amongst more oaks, whose boughs were lighter and let in more air.  He looked up, trying to determine the hour; he knew it must be round luncheon, for he was hungry.  He thought about the food he had given Beraen and fought back regret; then he remembered the silver he had packed and was filled with vexation.  "I could have given her silver to buy food," he thought, chagrined; "then she could have got the fresh, and I could have eaten my day-old bread, and hard cheese!"  He looked round, hoping to espy some edible herb or root, but recognized nothing; he was at least woodsman enough to know experimentation could be fatal.  With a sigh he said, "Well, at least you will not go hungry, Karakse; there is still grass to be had in these little clearings.  Are you hungry, Karakse?"

Karakse swiveled his ears but as before replied not.  Fastred dismounted and led him off the path into a small clearing, sun-dappled, and filled with green grass and small yellow flowers.  "Dandelions," he thought, and pulled up a few slips to eat; they were bitter, but better than naught.

His ears caught the sound of a running stream and he said, "Are you thirsty, Karakse?  We might as well drink, we two; I do not know how much longer we are to travel."  He looked around again; he did not recognize the clearing.  "I know that this is the road to Dol Galenehtar," he said slowly.  "But I do not remember how long it takes to get there; also I do not know how long we have been riding.  'A half-day's ride,' Father always says; but I do not know if we have ridden for half a day yet.  It feels like it, does it not, Karakse?"  Karakse was occupied in tearing up great mouthfuls of the sweet green grass and did not even mark what Fastred was saying.  "Well I am going to drink," said Fastred firmly, "and I do not want you running off, Karakse, so you shall come with me."  He took up his horse's reins and pulled the reluctant beast toward the sound of water chuckling over stones.  Sure enough he found a small estuary, brown and sparkling in the filtered sunlight; striders were dotting the still spots by the water's edge, dimpling the shining surface, and he could see small speckled fish undulating in the swifter part of the stream. 

"Trout!" he exclaimed, falling to his knees in the mud beside the stream.  "O Karakse, would not trout taste so very good right now?  But I have no hook nor line, and anyway," he sighed, getting up and brushing off his knees, "it would take far too long to build a fire, I suppose."  Then his eyes lit upon a pile of driftwood on a sandy spit, and he said slowly, "Well … to get a good bed of coals; that takes but an hour, does it not, Karakse?  And while it is burning perhaps I can convince one of these fish to swim over here – see this, Karakse?  If the fish swim round here it is trapped, then I stand like so and can perhaps catch it with my hands.  What think you, Karakse?"

Karakse did not seem to think too highly of this plan, but as his small master had already begun to dig out his tinder-box it became apparent any objections would be ignored.  So the horse continued to tear up the grass while Fastred hurriedly lit a small fire and fed it with all the dry wood he could find; then as it burned he went to the little hollow by the stream in which all manner of things had been trapped – twigs and leaves, and the occasional fry – and attempted to catch a slippery trout with his bare hands.

It took longer than he had expected, and by the time he had landed a small trout his fire had all but burned out; however with much blowing and the feeding of twigs and small branches Fastred managed to get it burning again.  Then he cleaned the fish, wrapped it in wet oak leaves, and set it sizzling on his hot coals.

When the fish was done Fastred ate it; it did not taste quite so good as the trout he had caught the other morning, but he attributed that to his lack of butter and salt, and his ignorance regarding fresh herbs.  Yet he was hungry enough to do it justice, and had just licked his fingers clean when a low sullen rumble caught him by surprise.

"Thunder!" he exclaimed, looking up at what he could see of the sky; the sun was gone, and between the branches were only gray clouds, hidden betimes by the tossing boughs.  "I did not expect it to rain," he said with dismay, kicking dirt over his small fire.  "Well at least we have eaten both, Karakse; we shall not arrive at Dol Galenehtar over-hungry … and there shall be a feast for us you know, Karakse; I hope they have cherry subtleties, for I am fond of them."  He took hold of Karakse's reins and led him away from the stream.  "I shall save you some sugar," he promised his horse, patting the piebald neck.  "Do not the cooks at Dol Galenehtar make marvelous subtleties?  If they make one for me with the spun-sugar icing I shall break some off and give it you. Will you not like that, Karakse?"

He walked with his horse for some minutes in the direction of the clearing, but after a short time he stopped.  "This is not right," he said hesitating.  "I was sure we would have found it by now."  He looked round again, then up at the sky, which was growing ever darker.  "If only the tiresome sun would show her face!" he exclaimed.  "I marked my pathway by her presence; how can I find my way back without her?"  He turned round.  "I think we'd best return to the stream, Karakse," he said.  "Then I will pay the closer attention and we will find the clearing; never fear!"  He said this more to comfort himself than his horse, who as before had not replied; when he realized he had lost his way he felt within his heart a sliver of cold fear, quickly tamped down.

"These woods belong to my Lord Father and to Lord Lassah," he told himself.  "Even should I lose my way it shall be but a brief time before I am found – "  Then he remembered he had told no one where he was going, and had asked Beraen to hold her tongue, and with a sinking feeling realized that not a soul knew he was in the woods save a peasant bound to secrecy.  He bit his lip to quell the sudden treasonous tremble and walked back towards the stream.

This time however he could not find the stream.  He looked upon the loamy floor of the forest for clues to their passing but saw none; the moss absorbed all signs of their footsteps and Karakse contrary to his nature had not even left some telltale load behind them.  Fastred stopped and listened hard for the sound of flowing water but all he could hear was the thudding of his own heart, then the low cracking boom of thunder.  High above them in the canopy of the trees came a light pattering sound; it had begun to rain.

"Well," he said to Karakse, sounding cheerier than he felt "we have got wet before, and I am sure we shall find the road soon; after all there is little but road hereabouts; we are bound to run across it eventually."  For though in his father's training he had prepared for any delays he did not want to stay in the woods overlong; the trout had been very small and he was sure he would be hungry again in a few hours' time.  "A half-day's ride," he muttered to himself, casting about on the ground for some clue as to his whereabouts.  "I know I came uphill; why is it when I go downhill I do not find my way?"

He wandered about thus, growing ever more agitated; Karakse followed him through brake and shrub, up rocky faces and down shingled dells, his long tail catching in brambles and thorns and his feathered fetlocks choked with cockleburs and grass; though the boughs protected them somewhat from the rain they began to get more and more wet, and when Fastred pulled up his hood Karakse shook his head and spattered rain drops all over Fastred's face.   At last over the thunder and drumming rain Fastred heard the cluck and chuckle of moving water; with mounting excitement he led his horse to it.

It was not however the stream he remembered; this was a broader expanse of water, and far swifter; a small cataract led it away from them down a steep slope, and Fastred could see the water rushing headlong into a low scrubby valley.  It had begun to grow darker and Fastred was hungry; however he well knew he could neither catch a trout, nor build a fire, under these circumstances, and his frustration gave way to fear; for the first time that day he wished he had told someone of his plans, or left some note; he knew his father's Rangers could have found him, or Legolas' scouts.  But no one looks for that which they know not is lost, and Fastred with sinking heart admitted to himself that things had not gone as well as he had planned.

"I was to be in Dol Galenehtar by now," he grumbled to Karakse, who was pulling half-heartedly on a gorse bush.  "I was to be warm and dry and eating a fine meal, and you were to be in one of Tyarmayél's nice warm loose-boxes eating mash with your sire."  He sighed and looked up at the darkling sky, blinking past the rain drops.  "Well before it gets much darker I suppose I'd best find some place for us to sleep," he said; "at least you will not go hungry, Karakse!"

He led the horse up away from the gorge, flanking the stream; the way was rough for many rosemary and boxwood bushes impeded their passage, and the ground thereabouts was rocky and slick. At last they gained the summit and Fastred looked around, hoping to see in what direction he should go; the sky however was so heavy he could not even tell which way was west, and though he had climbed was not so high he could see the horizon, or determine to which way lay either Osgiliath or Dol Galenehtar.  In fact all he could see were more trees, colorless in the gloom – ash and maple and pine and fir, with oaks scattered throughout.  He could not even see woodsmoke, for the mists that lay about the hills obscured that as well.

"I do not remember climbing so high before," said Fastred to Karakse, who was standing with his head hung dispiritedly before him.  "I am quite tired.  Do you suppose we might find a cave hereabouts where we might spend the night?"  The thought of a cold damp cave was uninviting; he had entertained such lovely thoughts about his reception at Dol Galenehtar that he felt very flat and disappointed.  He cast one last dejected look round about him and was about to crest the hill when a breeze tattered a wisp of cloud, tearing it like filmy gray cloth before his eyes, and he saw a long winding track below them, dark and glossy with rain.  His heart leaped and he cried, "The road!  Look, Karakse!  The road!  We are safe now!"  With joy he led his steed down the far slope, crashing through thick brakes and fighting his way amongst the wirevine and moneywort which wound round his legs; he fell once, landing heavily upon the heels of his hands and cutting them on the sharp rocks, but in his excitement did not even mark the pain; he ploughed forward in the growing darkness, eager to find the road.  When at last he saw a dim twinkle through the trees he tightened his grip on Karakse's reins and said:  "We are nearly there, Karakse!" and plunged through the forsythia hedge onto the smooth, flat road.

He knew beyond a doubt he was in Legolas' demesne; the road was not the rough rocky track leading from the Ithilien proper here.  Hwindiö and his workers had paved and leveled it and marked it at intervals with beaten bronze signs hung on the trees; the sharp facets and pierces threw back even the dimmest of light and their sparkling rays cried comfort to all travelers.  "We must have gone up round the boundary-markers," he said to Karakse, who only twitched his wet ears at him.  He sighed.  He had hoped one of the guards at the boundary-markers would have gone ahead of them and announced their arrival, ensuring a warm reception; however it could not be helped, and Fastred thought perhaps it would look even better for him were he to arrive unannounced; how surprised Lord Lassah would be, that he had eluded the border guards!  Fastred smiled to himself; for a twelve-year-old boy to circumvent discovery by Elven scouts was unheard-of and he was certain Lord Lassah would be quite impressed.  "Though I will admit to him it was naught but an accident," he said to Karakse, who was looking at him reproachfully.  "It would not do to get his guards into trouble!"

He looked at the bronze markers; on one side of the road were runes carven that read "North-East;" on the other, "South-West."  "Well I suppose we want North-East," said Fastred slowly; "though I would have thought we should be heading South-East instead." There was another grim roll of thunder; Fastred looked up at the gloomy dark sky.  "We cannot be that far," he said cheerfully to Karakse, mounting; "we might as well ride 'til we get there."  He clucked to his horse and Karakse started out.

They rode for about an hour in the pouring rain, and it grew darker and colder; Fastred was drenched, and he could see rivulets of water streaming off Karakse's flanks.  He was dreadfully hungry and wished he had caught two trout and not one.  To pass the time he began to daydream about what a feast he would have at Dol Galenehtar – he was far too tired now to want a great gala, but would settle comfortably for one of Bandobras' rich meals in Lord Lassah's chambers – roast venison perhaps, with thick heavy gravy swimming with onions; light fluffy bread and soft sweet butter; spicy terrine with aspic, sharp creamy cheese with a floury rind, sweet wine cut with cold water –

He jerked his head up; he had nodded off in the saddle!  His eyes felt very sandy and dry, and his limbs were heavy.  He looked around.  Even in the dark he could tell they were not in the forest anymore; Karakse had halted at a clearing.  The road led through the clearing, which was strangely ovoid, and covered with soft-looking grass; tall white pillars surrounded it, and on either side of the road were white marble ewers, filled with rain water and choked with leaves.  Fastred frowned and urged Karakse forward, but the horse shied, dug in his hooves and refused to proceed.  With a sigh Fastred dismounted and let the reins hang; Karakse was too tired to run away now.

"What is this place, Karakse?" he asked, approaching the nearest pillars flanking the entrance.  "I do not think I have ever been here before."  He looked back at his horse.  Karakse was shifting his hooves nervously, rolling his eyes and shivering; Fastred frowned and said:  "There is no need to be so foolish, Karakse! After all we are in Lassah's domain and naught can harm us here."  He turned, brushed the water from his eyes and walked into the clearing.  Suddenly he heard music and laughter, and saw bright lights, and smelled fresh bread; though the voices were ghostly and he could see no one for some reason he was not afraid.  He stumbled a little as he passed the pillars, and rubbed at his eyes; a feeling of contentment and lassitude filled him then, and with a happy sigh, not even noting Karakse's anxious whinny, he sank to the damp grass and fell into a deep sleep.