Chapter 4-The Broken Wheel
I was in the front of the wagon with Arhael keeping track of the cows we passed when, with a cracking sound, the wagon shuddered to a halt. Arhael let out a string of elvish curses, and prepared to go check the damage. "Here," I offered, "Let me check, I'm smaller, it will be easier for me to check for damage. You keep the animals still. 52 cows, if you're still keeping track." I smiled and stepped off the wagon. My smile faded when I saw what had caused the bump. The spokes on the front wheel had collapsed and the rim was disconnected. " Arhael, it's bad. We need to unload the wagon." I called, then went up to tell the others, who were riding up ahead. Ameniél stalked by me, already off her horse. "Hobbit, this is your fault." She growled at me. To everyone else in the troupe, I was Asphodel, but to her I was just "Hobbit," a member of an inferior race without a name or a personality. Distracted, I tried to pull a heavy chest out of the back of the wagon, but lost my balance and plopped awkwardly into the mud. The chest wobbled for a second, and I watched in horror as it fell in slow motion towards my twisted leg. A sharp pain accompanied the thud of the heavy oaken chest as it settled on my leg. Determined not to scream, for I knew that would scare the horses, I called "Arhael? Can you come here a minute? Please?" It was not Arhael that came, but Laiqalassë. I beseeched him, "Can you get this chest off of my leg? It's hard to be useful when I'm pinned to the ground." He grimaced, but complied. I took careful notice of the angle of my leg as he effortlessly lifted the heavy chest away. "I think it's broken." I commented. He nodded mutely, a look of absolute disgust on his face as he stared at my leg which was now a very interesting shape, which vaguely resembled a Z. "Can you get my satchel? I have some pain relieving herbs in it." Another mute nod answered my question and Lai moved off. Setting my leg wasn't as difficult as I thought, as long as I ignored the pain, which was nearly unbearable. All the elves were gathered around, curious as to how I would deal with this new trial. All eyes were on me as I tore up my good summer dress into strips, after I had aligned my leg between two straight sticks. I gritted my teeth and shoved the bone back into some semblance of a leg with a crunch. I then wrapped the strips of my dress tightly around the sticks and sealed them together with a hard pine resin, forming a sort of cast. After the makeshift cast had hardened, I gingerly tried to stand. The shooting pain in my foot as I attempted to put pressure on it sent the ground up to meet me with astonishing speed. "Arhael," I croaked in a smalle voice, addressing the only member of the troupe I knew would help me, "Could you get me a treebranch and a knife? I need to make a crutch." It was Faindol that answered. I had not really noticed him before, he was a bit older than the rest, and he was more of a backstage person, more like to work behind the scenes then out in front of a crowd. I hadn't heard him speak before, but he did now. "We have a crutch in the props chest," he rimbled and moved towards the wagon. He returned in a minute carrying a small oaken crutch roughly my size. He thrust it at me and left. Arhael bent to give me a hand up and whispered, "He must really like you. That crutch belonged to his son. Faindol lost him before the Fall and all the rest of his family during the siege of Gondolin. One of his daughters was my age."He turned away then, but not before I could see the pain in his eyes.
I was in the front of the wagon with Arhael keeping track of the cows we passed when, with a cracking sound, the wagon shuddered to a halt. Arhael let out a string of elvish curses, and prepared to go check the damage. "Here," I offered, "Let me check, I'm smaller, it will be easier for me to check for damage. You keep the animals still. 52 cows, if you're still keeping track." I smiled and stepped off the wagon. My smile faded when I saw what had caused the bump. The spokes on the front wheel had collapsed and the rim was disconnected. " Arhael, it's bad. We need to unload the wagon." I called, then went up to tell the others, who were riding up ahead. Ameniél stalked by me, already off her horse. "Hobbit, this is your fault." She growled at me. To everyone else in the troupe, I was Asphodel, but to her I was just "Hobbit," a member of an inferior race without a name or a personality. Distracted, I tried to pull a heavy chest out of the back of the wagon, but lost my balance and plopped awkwardly into the mud. The chest wobbled for a second, and I watched in horror as it fell in slow motion towards my twisted leg. A sharp pain accompanied the thud of the heavy oaken chest as it settled on my leg. Determined not to scream, for I knew that would scare the horses, I called "Arhael? Can you come here a minute? Please?" It was not Arhael that came, but Laiqalassë. I beseeched him, "Can you get this chest off of my leg? It's hard to be useful when I'm pinned to the ground." He grimaced, but complied. I took careful notice of the angle of my leg as he effortlessly lifted the heavy chest away. "I think it's broken." I commented. He nodded mutely, a look of absolute disgust on his face as he stared at my leg which was now a very interesting shape, which vaguely resembled a Z. "Can you get my satchel? I have some pain relieving herbs in it." Another mute nod answered my question and Lai moved off. Setting my leg wasn't as difficult as I thought, as long as I ignored the pain, which was nearly unbearable. All the elves were gathered around, curious as to how I would deal with this new trial. All eyes were on me as I tore up my good summer dress into strips, after I had aligned my leg between two straight sticks. I gritted my teeth and shoved the bone back into some semblance of a leg with a crunch. I then wrapped the strips of my dress tightly around the sticks and sealed them together with a hard pine resin, forming a sort of cast. After the makeshift cast had hardened, I gingerly tried to stand. The shooting pain in my foot as I attempted to put pressure on it sent the ground up to meet me with astonishing speed. "Arhael," I croaked in a smalle voice, addressing the only member of the troupe I knew would help me, "Could you get me a treebranch and a knife? I need to make a crutch." It was Faindol that answered. I had not really noticed him before, he was a bit older than the rest, and he was more of a backstage person, more like to work behind the scenes then out in front of a crowd. I hadn't heard him speak before, but he did now. "We have a crutch in the props chest," he rimbled and moved towards the wagon. He returned in a minute carrying a small oaken crutch roughly my size. He thrust it at me and left. Arhael bent to give me a hand up and whispered, "He must really like you. That crutch belonged to his son. Faindol lost him before the Fall and all the rest of his family during the siege of Gondolin. One of his daughters was my age."He turned away then, but not before I could see the pain in his eyes.
