The ground climbed and grew rocky, and sparse trees and scrub dotted the landscape. They had need to go with care, for fissures and cracks appeared in the earth, hidden by branches and leaves and dried grass, and one of their steeds could easily break a leg with a misstep. But as they climbed the air grew a little clearer, rising as they did out of the wet dimness of the wood, and betimes they could descry above them the hovering form of some raptor, an eagle or hawk, calling down to Andunië and veering off on fingered wings. There was a stiff wind, which whipped intermittently at them through the high shoulders of stone and low firs, and carried upon it the scent of sun-warmed stone, and of pine and larch.

The closer they got to Lassah's resting-place the deeper in gloom sank the Lord of Aglarond. He had pulled up his hood, and lowered his head; all that could be seen of the Dwarf were his slumped shoulders, and the thick arms clinging to Andunië's waist. Bandobras behind Fastred kept up a high-pitched and brittle stream of chatter, though now and again all could hear the voice crack and wobble; however he broke not nor ceased, determining to hide from them his growing apprehension. Fastred for his part was filled both with hope and dismay; for though he went to find his beloved Lassah's bones he knew he should rest better knowing the Elf-lord would be avenged, not only by his uncle's hand but with the aid of Rúmil's people too. And also when he thought of Tamin Rúmilion did his heart lighten, for so bright was the boy's spirit that tears and laughter commingled did rest upon the memory of him, and Fastred found that very comforting.

Andunië let Brytta ride ahead of them. He was careful where Taruku stepped, and called back warnings if he found any hidden holes or cracks, and ever he pressed them up and to the north-west, to the canyon edge where he had lost his rescuer. Fastred realized that now, when the man spoke to them, his words were no longer couched in bitterness and subtle insult; instead his errand had convened upon him its immediacy, and he did not seem discommoded by their strangeness at all. And they in turn, recognizing the softening in his manner, did respond in kind, treating him as though he had always been a part of their strange fellowship.

At midday they reached the crevasse. It was deep, and went off to their right into a great cliff overlooking the plains of Rohan; its sides were steep and rocky, though twisted and stunted evergreens could be seen clinging to the canyon walls. They looked over the edge and saw, some hundred feet below them, a rushing stream, white-green and sparkling in the sun. Bandobras frowned and asked Brytta: "Will we need to get down there? And how will we manage it if we do?"

"Nay, good holbytla; there is no need to climb down into the crevasse," smiled Brytta. "Save to catch the little graylings there, which are quite good. And anyway the land rises the further north and up we climb, until we see its cataract piercing the earth; it is there the canyon starts, splitting the land here in two. We go to the north from here, past these fir-woods; there is a clearing there, just as the ground rises steeply: There we shall find your Master." He sighed then, his eyes to the north; he looked troubled. "I had hoped to find absolution in this journey, Pretty Maid!" he said, turning to Andunië. "Yet my heart is heavy when I think of your merry and selfless lord, giving of his life for such a one as I, who did naught but spread bitter words after his good deeds."

"He marked that not, but desired instead friendship of you," said Andunië with a careless shrug. "Had he one fault it was in craving everyone's amity; he could not bear to be at odds with anyone."

Brytta did not reply at once, and Fastred thought back upon his long hot summer toiling in Dol Galenehtar's mews; Lassah had needed to separate himself from Fastred at that time, and Fastred had, once he managed to sublimate his own selfish feelings, realized that severance hurt the Elf as much as it had him. He sighed as the melancholy swept over him again, and wondered when Lassah's memory would stop hurting him. "Never, I guess," he thought, musing upon happy days when he and Lassah would play and shoot and explore and laugh together. "I shall always miss him; my father did say to me that the greater one's love, the deeper the loss; and I loved Lassah more than anyone save mine own family." His mind shied away from thoughts of what Lassah's body should look like; he hoped he could bear to see it long enough at least to make it back to Meduseld, where he might give himself over to sorrow once more. "And how unhappy poor Brytta must be!" he thought. "For to grieve one so dear as Lassah, when one's heart is clean of wrongdoing and misdeed, is painful enough; but for one who had wronged him – O how miserable that memory should make one!" Then Brytta's voice intruded upon his thoughts, and he heard the man say, his voice wistful:

"Well do I remember what he said to me, when I told him that his munificence changed not my hatred of him! How he did smile sadly at his companion then, and turn to me with eyes keen and shining; I had not marked before the fairness of his face and form, being overwhelmed with mine own anger, and I did pause in the disgorging of my resentment. And looking me straight in the face with those starry eyes he said to me: 'Bitterness is the poison you drink, hoping I shall die.' He said naught after that but what was necessary for our survival; it pains me to know that was the last we were able to say to each other, and that it has taken me so long to digest his words, for they are wise I deem, though I am a stubborn man and convincing me of mine errors requires great patience."

"Yes," said Bandobras sadly from behind Fastred. "My Master had a way with words, now, didn't he? Though I don't doubt he learnt that one off his mother – wonderful wise woman she is." He sighed. "Don't look forward to telling her of what's happened here – be right upset she will, and his dad'll no doubt come crashing down here bent on revenge. Not on you, mind," he added, when Brytta turned to him looking worried. "He'll not go a-blaming of you for this! But if Éomer don't grind Bréawine to dust first, I won't go placing bets on that bad man surviving the winter, for King Thranduil's likely to come down all hot-tempered and raging, and see to the doings himself."

"Almost do I wish to bid him good journey," said Brytta with a smile; "though that might seem treasonous to so do!"

He led them northward into the resinous forest. Clouds of tiny gnats rose from the still hot grasses in the clearings and all round them was the pervasive buzzing of some large insect, lurking in the cool green branches. "Cigales," said Brytta, seeing they looked round in confusion. "They are said to be good luck."

"They don't bite, do they?" asked Bandobras worriedly, looking up into the trees. Brytta laughed.

"Nay! They cause enough damage to crop and leaf," he said; "but they have no sting, so you are quite safe. Birds feed on them, and lizards too."

At last they came to a place where the underbrush seemed quite trampled, though any footprints had been obscured by wind and rain; Brytta dismounted, and turned to them with sober face.

"See you this?" he said, gesturing to a broken bush. "Here it was the great black destrier burst through the brake, though I cursed in vain for it to stop, for I had just seen Lord Legolas fall, and I wished mightily to return to him, to die by his side if I could."

Andunië dismounted as well, and Gimli followed her to the ground, his eyes downcast. "I smell smoke and decay," said Andunië, lifting her lovely face to the air; "however I do not descry the presence of the living, save for crows." Fastred shivered then, thinking of what the crows might be doing; then Andunië and Brytta took their steeds in hand, and broke through the underbrush. With a sigh Fastred slid off Karakse's back, and after aiding Bandobras to the earth took his horse's reins, and he and Gimli and the Hobbit followed.

The clearing was burned black, and there were several ungainly-looking lumps scattered round about, and the dull glint of metal. Fastred could smell the sickly scent of rotting flesh, and of burning rubbish, and there was a bloated carcass of a horse upon which sharp-eyed crows were settled. Andunië walked up to them and waved her hand dismissively; they flapped off, cawing, leaving the half-eaten body alone. She knelt by it, frowning, and Brytta followed; she looked up at them. "Yes, this is Yulmë, Lirlindil's destrier," she said; "I recognize the mark upon his neck here." She pointed to the torn flesh through which the horse's bones protruded. "And see how his hooves churned the dirt? He did not die cleanly, this one." She rose to her feet and looked round the clearing. "Where did Lirlindil fall?"

"Here," said Brytta, pointing to a burned patch of earth several yards from the dead horse's head. "But it looks as though there is little to bring back."

"Hm," said Andunië. Fastred stared at the blackened patch, upon which were twisted and burnt bones, scored by the teeth of beasts; here and there were metal brads and buttons, and stretched out before the greater mass, which no doubt had been Lirlindil's skull, were the arm-bones, ending in a hand extended as though in entreaty. "I hope he was dead ere they set him afire."

Fastred's soul recoiled from such a thought. How horrible that would have been! He did not want to look at Lirlindil's bones any longer; the twisted form mocked what had once been a bright-faced, good-natured Elf, who had loved his lord and his wife with equal vigor. He recalled the bright streaming hair, and ready laugh, and his constant banter with Hwindiö in the smithy. To think of Lirlindil being burnt to death made him feel sick, and very angry too. "I hope we find the men who did this," he thought, his heart roiling in his breast; "I hope we find them and kill them all!" At the moment he did not care that these men were his own subjects; treason and cruelty had lessened them in his mind, and he wanted only vengeance. But then Brytta's voice again interrupted his morose thoughts.

"O he was dead – never fear! He may not even marked that he died, so swift was his fall. I chanced to see his face after, and the eyes were fixed and vacant – there was naught to be done for him at that point." Brytta shook his head sadly. "I called to the Green Knight to abandon his servant, and come to his own steed; however it would have been too far for him to run, and Bréawine's men were upon us. He did what was best to bring news to Éomer – but – how I wish it had been I who had fallen, and not he!"

While they stood round Lirlindil's bones Gimli had been wandering about the clearing. "There are many bodies here," he said gruffly; they could all hear the tears in his voice, though he fought to contain them. "And all of them burned, save the horse. Let us get Lirlindil, and find Legolas; then I beg of you that we quit this place, for it holds naught but death and bitterness for me, and I want to go home."

Bandobras turned away and covered his face with his hands, and Fastred, feeling his throat tighten, swallowed heavily and did not reply; however as Andunië took a sack down from Ronyo's back Brytta walked carefully up to the Dwarf, and upon his face was a look of deep regret.

"There is no need to so trample your heart, already wounded, O Lord of Aglarond," he said gently. "Do you set yourself here by the Pretty Maid's horse, and I shall search the clearing for your friend."

Gimli glanced up at the man, and Fastred saw the tears shining in his eyes. "No, thank you," he growled. "I'd show Legolas little love if I lacked the strength to at least look for his bones."

"As you wish, good Dwarf," said Brytta with a bow, and he set off for the northern edge of the clearing. Fastred cast about helplessly a moment, then trotted up to Andunië, trying not to look at how she collected her friend's remains in the sack. "Andunië," he said, looking round the clearing, "where do you think his body is? Brytta said he fell by Lirlindil, but there is no one save Yulmë here."

"It is possible they dragged his body off a ways," said Andunië calmly, scraping together Lirlindil's ribs into the ruins of his leather armor, charred and brittle. "See, there are Brytta and the others going that way; start over here by that linden, and when I am finished I will join you."

Fastred turned and went to where she had pointed with her blackened hands, his stomach turning. He did not want to find Lassah's body – yet he knew he would not rest ere they did. So he went to the first burnt body and forced himself to examine it; however he saw that the casing round the torso had been plate mail, scorched and discolored; also the helm was decorated with a horse-head motif. "Not this one," he said aloud, and abandoning it searched the tall grass for more.

All round the clearing they could hear each other speak – "No, not this one – " " – Definitely not! – " " – Ugh – not much left of him – " "O! Another horse!" But after an hour's search they had come up with nothing save the bones of men and horses. They convened in the northern end of the clearing, for it was cooler there, and as the breeze came down from the north they could not smell poor Yulmë. "I don't understand it," Bandobras said; he stood with his arms crossed, and upon his small face was an affronted look. "He ought to be here – why isn't he here?" And he glared at Brytta as though it were the man's fault; however Brytta looked as puzzled as the rest of them.

"I confess I do not understand either, O holbytla," he said. "It ought to be clear enough – here are Lirlindil and his horse where they fell; there is the man who pursued me to the southern end of the clearing – see where he lies, with an arrow in his back! – here are many others, also killed by arrows – no doubt the Green Knight's own; I have never seen any man shoot as swiftly as did he. And there is also one beheaded; I watched the Green Knight kill that man with his sword – yet – where he fell, there is naught but old blood and trampled earth. Where would they have taken his body, and why?"

"Those two," said Andunië, gesturing to two bodies nearby. "Did you mark that they were neither shot nor stabbed, but died of broken necks? Would brother turn against brother in such a battle, and is this a method by which the Rohirrim slay one another?"

"Certainly not!" said Brytta; he sounded offended. "I admit these men display not the nobility nor loyalty of the greater part of my folk; but for what reason should they turn against each other? And anyway when kin slay kin it is by sword not hand, or at least that is how it is done in the Mark."

"Then someone else must've killed them," said Bandobras. "Come! Let's poke round there a minute; maybe we'll find something."

They followed him to the two bodies in question, Gimli lagging behind, his head drooping. Brytta turned the remains over in his hands seeking some clue as to the men's identity, and Andunië and Fastred searched round them. Suddenly a flash of gold caught Fastred's eye, and running toward it he saw twisted upon a holly branch what appeared to be a fine rope of floss; however when he touched it he realized it was hair – pale, shining, golden hair, straight and long; a great hank of it had been twisted in the sharp leaves and pulled out. With a glad cry he grasped it, pulling it off the branch and holding it aloft. "Look!" he called out. "It is Lassah's hair – his hair!"

They ran to him, and Gimli reached greedy hands for it, his eyes haunted and eager; he turned the flossy stuff over in his fingers as though fingering the finest mithril. Bandobras, gulping and sniffling, also reached out tiny fingers to caress it. "Yes," the Hobbit moaned, his eyes overflowing again; "it is his hair – it is my Master's hair."

"Where did you find it?" asked Andunië. Fastred showed her the branch; she frowned at it, then began to search round the area. Fastred joined her, his heart racing – he felt he ought to be saddened that he had only found a small part of his beloved Lassah, but he was strangely exalted by the thought that so lovely a part of the Elf had survived the fire. “Hísimë will be pleased,” he thought; “she always loved to brush his hair.” He saw scrapes and furrows beneath the holly tree, and scrambled beneath it; there he found a large sledge, which he pulled out. "Look!" he said again. "What sort of weapon is this?"

"It is a war-hammer," said Brytta taking it. He looked at the head. "It has been well-used too," he added grimly. "See the blood dried upon it?"

"As far as I can tell the men went north-west," said Andunië, bent close to the earth. "It is hard to tell though, for much time has passed, and the elements have not been kind to us hunters. No doubt they bore his body away, though for what reason I cannot tell. What lies to the north-west, O Brytta? Aught of interest?"

"O only Bréawine's keep, Pretty Maid!" said Brytta dryly. "In truth it should not surprise me to learn that your lord's body was taken, for they would wish to prove unto Bréawine he had truly fallen; his servant would not be of such importance, which I am sure is why he was left here. But we ought not to try to wrest those bones from Bréawine! If you truly want to realize Éomer's fears about the traitor getting wind of his muster you may go to pursue them; I however shall protect my monarch at least this much, and run in the other direction. For it is plain to me the Green Knight's body lies not in this clearing, and as the hair Fastred Prince found is rather low to the ground it seems to me as though it caught there whilst they carried him off."

Fastred did not mark their speech but was looking round, hoping still to find Lassah's body; when he saw a lumpy bag discarded upon the earth he ran to it. He could descry the shape of what rested therein, all jutting angles like unto the jumbled bones Andunië had collected. His heart turned to lead, and he thought to himself: "I have done it – I have found Lassah's body." But he could not seem to approach it; he could hear the others discussing their next move, could hear the cigales buzzing and humming all round him, could feel the resinous gusts of air shifting his hair and cloak; but he could not bring himself to open the bag, and see what was inside.

"What are you looking at?" asked a voice at his elbow; Fastred jumped, for he had not heard anyone approach. But Bandobras stood there, and following Fastred's gaze he too saw the sack. His breath caught in his throat and he ran forward, and Fastred, feeling as though a spell had been broken, ran after him. The Hobbit wrenched open the bag and looked inside; he reached in, and pulled out a familiar-looking vambrace – heavy, and decorated with twists of gold in an oak-leaf pattern – Lassah's vambrace. Fastred's heart went cold. But then Bandobras turned to him; he wept still, but his eyes were amused.

"False alarm," he said, pulling out a long, curved piece of wood. "It's not his bones; it's his bow – chopped to pieces."

*********************************

They pressed north-east, for Brytta told them Bréawine did send out his patrols in the evenings, and they should be trapped against the canyon wall unable to escape should they remain; however if they cut through to the head of the canyon they could then strike south upon its other side, and so be protected by the crevasse. Fastred was confused and disappointed, and he could tell Bandobras was too. Gimli had very generously allowed Fastred and Bandobras to carry the hair and the remains of Lassah's bow and armor; Ronyo bore not only her mistress and the Dwarf but Lirlindil's remains as well, which rattled and clattered at every step the steed made. It was a chilling and melancholy sound, and Fastred wished someone would speak, to drown it out.

As the sun set Brytta took point. "I know these lands," he said to them; "it is here my lord father and I used to hunt, and here he died, and I therefore became his heir."

"O how sad," said Fastred sympathetically. "How did he die, Brytta?"

"He fell into a dene-hole, O Fastred Prince, and having broken his leg could not climb out," said Brytta; he sounded quite calm, and not sad at all; in fact Fastred could just see in the twilight that his face looked rather satisfied. "I believe he starved to death; at least that is how he looked when I finally found him." Fastred stared at the man, aghast; however Brytta only looked thoughtful. "'Tis a shame indeed my mother did not live to hear of his demise."

"Your mum and your dad both died!" exclaimed Bandobras from behind Fastred. "How awful! And how did your mum die, Brytta?"

"My lord father said she fell down the steps," said Brytta, and his face changed; it was dark with anger. Fastred blanched, realizing what the man had meant, and like a nighttime lightning-bolt illuminates a grotesque and malformed landscape, he saw into Brytta's heart then, and far from condemning him for his anger was filled with a deep and horrified pity. He felt Bandobras stiffen, and he stared at Andunië; however she only glanced back at him, her face unreadable, and then turned indifferently back around.

They rode in silence until the moon rose over the rocky hills, milky and ghostly behind the swift tattered clouds that adorned him; then did Brytta advise caution, for they were approaching the place where his sire had fallen to his death. "The earth hereabouts is pocked full of holes as a quintain," he said. "Some think they have been made by Dwimmerlaik, for the folk in these hills are very superstitious; I however believe them instead to be the ancient scrapes of the old Dunlendings, who dwelt here ere Eorl the Young rode down from the North."

"What were they for?" asked Fastred, looking round; in the dim white light of the moon the land looked eerie and mist-laden, and the tussocks and twisted trees were gnarled and misshapen. There were shadows everywhere, and he wondered what a dene-hole looked like.

"None can say," said Brytta. "They could have been caches, or perhaps they are simply parts of the earth where the chalky dirt has fallen in. Look! There is one."

Fastred looked to where Brytta pointed. It was a ragged hole in the earth, covered over with bowed and dried grass; when he rode past it he could feel a cold breath, like a ghost exhaling, coming up from it; it smelled very foul. "Ugh!" said Bandobras. "What is that horrible stench?"

"A dead beast no doubt," said Brytta. "They fall in betimes, and the sand prevents their crawling out, and so they die as did my sire."

"Awful," muttered the Hobbit, and Fastred agreed. The thought of any poor beast doomed to such a death made his heart constrict; then he remembered how Brytta's father had died, and he shivered.

They passed several other denes, in varying stages of decay, and in all of them seemed to breathe the cold air of death. Fastred remembered his dream then, of searching through a landscape filled with ghostly holes; he felt unaccountably afraid, and though he knew that it had been Rúmil's people who had haunted the land hereabouts he disliked this place very much. "Do Bréawine's people come up here?" he asked looking round nervously; it would be a bad place for an ambush, for they would not be able to run for fear of the dene-holes.

"They come here only to cast their rubbish in the holes," said Brytta. "That is why they smell so foul."

Something behind them screeched, a terrifying sound, and Fastred's heart froze; however at the second cry he realized it was naught but an owl. Then he saw it, floating toward them, spike-crowned and yellow-eyed; it coasted over Andunië's head, and she watched it calmly. It vanished into the trees ahead of them, and Fastred heard it screech again. Andunië turned to Brytta.

"Follow me," she said simply, and led Ronyo into the trees.

Brytta stared after her, amazed; then he turned to Fastred. "What is she doing?" he demanded. "I thought we were going to circle round the head of the cataract and head south to avoid Bréawine's patrols. We cannot ride in the woods; we will not see the holes then!"

"Andunië will see them," said Fastred confidently, and passing Brytta followed Andunië into the darkness.

The light was blue and mottled over the tumbling ruins of the forest floor, and Fastred could hear tree frogs chirping all round him. It was cool, and the piney smell would have been quite pleasant had it not been overlaid by the pervasive stench of decay. He heard Brytta behind him, grumbling to Taruku as they crashed through the brakes; he could hear Ronyo ahead of him, though he could not see the steed, nor the Elf and Dwarf upon him. Then before him he heard the owl screech again, and he turned Karakse to follow. He could feel Bandobras' arms tremble, and knew the Hobbit was as weary as was he; he hoped Andunië followed the owl to find safe haven so they could rest. "I am sure it is not long now," he said to Bandobras, and urged his steed forward.

Karakse crashed through the underbrush, his great feathered hooves catching on brambles and vines; more than ever Fastred was glad his horse was so sturdy and strong, and also of such agreeable disposition; for behind him he could hear Brytta growling to Taruku, who apparently did not care for such treatment. They pressed forward, and now and again Fastred could see Ronyo's great hindquarters, and Gimli perched upon them; and over him the shining head of the Elf who led them. And also could Fastred hear the owl, screeching and crying, and leading them ever forward into the darkness. Betimes they passed dene-holes, respiring cold fumes, and Fastred's heart would grow the heavier, and his limbs more weary. His eyes and head hurt from peering after Andunië in the dark and he began to grow restless. He was just about to call ahead to her, to ask when they might pause, when Karakse burst through a thick tangled bush and nearly ran into Ronyo, who had stopped in a large greensward ringed about with larch and pine, gray in the moonlight. There were several dene-holes pocking the rocky ground, and as ever the insidious smell of decay. Andunië had dismounted, and was watching the owl, whose round yellow eyes stared blankly back; then the owl hooted once, and drifted off on its broad pinions.

Brytta also broke through into the clearing, and looked round him in confusion. "What is it?" he asked. "Why are we here?"

"I want to go down into these dene-holes," said Andunië. She walked to Karakse and began digging through Fastred's effects. "We need rope."

Fastred dismounted and helped Bandobras down. The Hobbit walked forward cautiously, sniffing the air. "What do you smell?" asked Fastred worriedly.

"Rotting carcasses," said Bandobras. "Kind of overpowers everything else, even us, though I can still smell us under it all – Hobbit and Dwarf, Elf and Big Folk." He grinned up at Fastred then. "Especially you Big Folk – getting pretty ripe, you are."

"I am not certain bathing will take precedence when we return to Meduseld, O holbytla, so I fear you must endure our stench a while longer," said Brytta good-naturedly. He swung down off Taruku and walked into the greensward, wrinkling his nose. "Faugh!" he said. "Something has died here."

"Several somethings, from the smell of it," agreed Bandobras. Then understanding dawned on his face and he turned to Gimli, his brown eyes wide. "Gimli!" he whispered. "Do you think -- ?"

The Dwarf did not reply, but followed Andunië to where she knelt by the nearest hole. He peered in as she did, squinting into the murky darkness, and the others followed them. They could see nothing; the hole was deep and dark, and moonlight did not penetrate the misty gloom therein. Up from its depths breathed cold stinking death, and Brytta covered his nose and mouth with a scarf. Andunië rose and calmly tied the rope round her waist, and handed the other end to Gimli and Brytta. "Here," she said. "Lower me slowly, and I will tug on the rope twice to let you know I have reached the bottom. When I tug four times, pull me out."

"Pretty Maid," said Brytta worriedly, "the air in the bottom of these holes is not always wholesome, and breathing can become laborious; are you certain you wish to descend therein?"

"I am," she said, and exchanging looks Brytta and Gimli began to lower her into the hole. Fastred watched uneasily as she walked backward down the side of the dene-hole, her eyes serenely looking behind her into the gloom. Fastred and Bandobras huddled together at the edge and watched her as she descended, until her form vanished into the darkness; but still they stared, as though their eyes would penetrate the shadows for her, and bring her safely back. They could hear movement, a soft scraping, and odd echoes, and ever the breathing of the hole like a giant's breath, stinking and vaporous. Gimli and Brytta braced back upon the rope, feeding it through their strong hands until it slackened; then there were two sharp tugs, and they stood and peered into the darkness.

There was nothing save silence for some moments, and Fastred began to wonder if he ought to volunteer to descend himself to see what had happened to her; but then the rope gave four quick jerks, and Gimli and Brytta leant back, and began to pull upon the rope hand-over-hand. At last Fastred and Bandobras could see her, walking as though of her own accord up the wall of the hole; she did not seem in the slightest discommoded, but perfectly at ease as though she did this sort of thing every day. Brytta gave her his hand to pull her over the edge, and she landed lightly upon her feet; in her hand was a small coil, which she handed to him.

"Dead colt," she said simply.

"Ah," said Brytta sadly, and took the twist of hair from her, twining it round his big gnarled fingers. "The poor thing."

Andunië, still with the rope tied round her waist, walked to the next hole, and they followed her. She knelt and gazed down into the blackness; if anything it smelt fouler than the first one. She glanced back over her shoulder at Gimli and Brytta and said coolly, "Ready?"

"Yes," said Brytta, and Gimli only nodded, his face grim and set. Leaning back against the rope Andunië once again paced backward down the edge of the dene-hole, and again Fastred and Bandobras watched her vanish. The rope had nearly fed out, and Brytta and Gimli had begun to exchange worried looks, when it slackened and tugged twice; then there was silence.

They waited. The moon crawled across the little oval of sky until it was obscured by the tree branches, and it became very dark. There was no sound save the sighing of air from the holes and the rustle of leaves on the breeze; now and again they heard the horses shift or nicker. Bandobras fidgeted, and Fastred wanted to. But Gimli and Brytta stood and stared down into the darkness, holding the rope with their hands, and still they waited.

Then – one, two, three, four! – and Gimli and Brytta leant back and began to pull. Over and over they hauled up the length of the rope until it coiled behind them like a long thin snake, and they began to grunt with the effort; wordlessly both Bandobras and Fastred ran behind them to lend their own muscle, and together the four of them pulled and pulled. "This – is – ridiculous!" panted Fastred to himself; "Here – we have – three horses – and they ought to be pulling – not we!" But it was too late to stop Andunië's climb now; and as the rope behind them grew he knew surely she must soon ascend.

Then up into the misty light came Andunië's head, her eyes glittering, but the effort needed to draw up but one slim Elf was explained, for in her arms, cradled against her breast, she bore the shining and broken body of her lord.