His fingers groped for his sword but he could not find it. He saw a vicious smile tugging at lips that spoke quick but measured words; saw the glister of the rayed star brooch on the man’s shoulder in the bleak sun.
Beredic screamed as the tip of the knife impaled his eyes, but the scream was lost in the sounds of battle that surrounded him.
The last thing he should have seen was the sight of the enemy; young warriors should die at the hand of a worthy opponent, at the very least. But not Beredic. Beredic saw nothing. He wasn’t even sure in whose arms he died after his blood had been seeping slowly into the Pelennor Fields for, what seemed, an eternity. In truth it might have been minutes or even seconds; he could not tell for the excruciating pain turned every second, every heartbeat into another slash into his core. At least the pain chased away his fright for the coldness that coiled around his limbs, the herald of what was to come.
He only hoped the one who held him was someone who’d pass on his last words to his father.
“I’m sorry...”“I know Beredic didn’t die a coward, Da. My brother might have been many things, but a coward he was not.“ Kaya lay a hand on her father’s arm. “And if you can’t talk about what happened... It’s hard for me to understand, but I will never forget the sight of you approaching, alone.” A man suddenly looking much older than his years, his spirit to live on lost on the battle plains of Gondor, fled along with the dying breath of his son. “So alone... I see how it haunts you still.”
Kaya got to her feet. Her sword loosely in one hand and the package clutched to her chest, she put her shoulder to the front door of her house. “I pray daily that, one day, you’ll find peace with all of this.”
Inside, Kaya put the sword with her other packs and her saddle bags. The package she lay on the table, and at last she unfolded the soft cloth to find a pair of beautiful green fingerless mittens inside. She picked them up, a puzzled look on her face. They were quite long, felt soft, and warm. She pursed her lips. “Oh, Ma...”
Balar, who had followed her inside, raised his brows at the sight of the winter garment and looked as confused as Kaya had at first. “Well, your mother always has been a hard one to fool. Always could get the gist from only half a word.”
“There is no greater truth,” Kaya nodded. She opened one of her bags and crammed the mittens inside. “Thank her, please.”
“I will.” Balar cleared his throat and looked around; he still bore that haunted look, like he always did when Beredic’s dying became a topic of conversation. “You’re almost ready, I see.”
“Almost.” She picked up a small leather bound book in which she kept a detailed account of her herbal concoctions and added it to her packs, when a soft
kiy-ee call grabbed her attention. “Look well after Faradaew, please?” They both looked at the falcon who sat quietly on a beam, his stare unblinking. “He’s been restless since days. He must be sensing I’m going away and he’s not.”
“Don’t worry, there won’t be a squirrel or rabbit in the wider area of Combe that will be safe. He’ll be one big fat bird by the time you come back. Maybe we can roast him then, to celebrate your homecoming.”
“
Da!”
“I am kidding, you know this,” Balar smiled; it was a little forced, but he tried at least. “I’ll take excellent care of him and he will still be here when you return, just like the rest of us.” His smile became fainter, his expression more thoughtful. “We’ll still be here if you ever need us, wherever you would end up, Kaya.”
Kaya gave her father a curious sideways glance while she strapped her quiver on her back and hoisted a pack across her shoulders; she grabbed a waterskin and her sword, an oil lamp, and cast one last glance at Faradaew. Balar followed her with her saddlebags and bow past the overgrown bushes that bordered her house to the patch of pasture in the back where her horse stood. She hung the oil lamp from a hook in one of the small stable’s beams.
Her horse was a beautiful blue roan gelding named Cýron - ‘New moon’. A far more pricey horse than she would ever have been able to afford, which made him being hers all the more special. It was not a bad thing, being able to bluff, especially when holding a bad hand of cards.
She grabbed the saddle and saddled him up.
“Have I been pushing you?” Balar asked suddenly; he patted Cýron’s robust neck after he pulled the bridle over the horse’s head; the horse snorted.
Kaya looked directly at her father, bemused. “What do you mean?”
“The other evening, after we had been sparring... you were asleep when I entered. Your mother was unhappy with me, said I was breaking you. I responded that I was making you, but...” Balar’s eyes reflected doubt and pain. “I’ve been wondering, maybe I have been too hard on you. I’ve not meant to push you away. You needn’t proof anything to me. I just have the impression you are not really happy here, sometimes... a lot of times.”
“I am happy here, and sometimes I am not. Which makes me not so much different from you, I think.” At this, Balar briefly looked away, blinking. “I know you haven’t meant to push me away. You showed me the options, but the choice in the end has been mine. You should not feel bad nor worry over me, Da. And about being too hard, you know how I feel about that.” Kaya chuckled, ignoring the fact her clothes hid still a number of various fading bruises.
“I do. But it was long ago that you wouldn’t speak to me for days after I treated you differently than Beredic.” Balar snorted and shook his head. “I have made you live to regret that silent request on many occasions since then, I’m sure. But not once you complained.” He grew serious then. “It’s just, Kaya... I lost one child in the South already. I do not wish to see the North turn another one into a muted angel.” He took in a quick breath. “I could not live with that as well.”
Kaya turned a shade paler. “Da-”
“No, you listen to me.” Balar grabbed her arm, his eyes dead serious and not without a glister, which stood in odd contrast to his face that all too often looked too grim. “You listen good. You come back, you hear me? You focus, you follow your instincts, you help, and you walk away from there. Promise me this.”
“I promise,” Kaya said, nodding quickly, her eyes big. “I promise.”
Balar nodded in return, satisfied with her resolute answer, and picked a folded piece of parchment from a pocket. “This is where you’ll meet others at sunrise. It’s a small group, five Rangers, who need to catch up with their deployment near Amon Sûl in three days. They will be waiting for you to join them. And from Amon Sûl-”
“To the north.” She accepted the parchment, unfolded it to have a quick look in the sparse light of the oil lamp, then she held it into the flame and let the crumpling, blackening paper drift to the soil where she extinguished it with a kick of her boot.
Awkwardly they stood before one another for long moments.
“I should go, then,” Kaya said, hesitantly.
“You should.”
“Take good care of Ma. She needs you, Da. And the others...”
“I will.”
“I left a whole bunch of mixtures on the table for Grandpa, for when winter comes and I-”
“Kaya...” Balar grabbed her shoulders tightly and leveled his eyes with hers, ignoring the tears that welled in her eyes. “You must go now, and you must not look back.”
Kaya nodded, and wiped over her face with the back of her hand to tears that in the end would not come. She set her jaw. “You are right.” Giving her father a hug she felt a gentle pat on the back of her shoulder.
Balar held Cýron while she mounted. Looking down at him, she smiled. “I’ll let you know if you win that bet you took with Grandpa on those Drakes.”
Balar snorted. “You do that. I could do with a good bottle of Dorwinion.”
Kaya clicked her tongue then, pulled the reins, and after a gracious turn Cýron trod towards the road. A veil of purple and blue tinted the Eastern horizon. She still could hear Faradaew’s loud, distressed call as she passed the last house of Combe, and headed towards the Great East Road, not looking back despite the urge, just as she promised.
With each of Cýron’s steps, the weariness in her heart diminished just a little, and the unknown that was her destiny drew steadily closer.
And thus commenced the long journey of Kaya, daughter of Balar, to the barren North, where unknown adventures awaited her.
The end - but it does not end here, for the mysterious drakes lurking in the North are being hunted by a band of Rangers in The Dúnedain of the North: The Drake Hunt.