2: The North Wind Blows
The sun was lying on the horizon, blazing red and gold, when Brin ran out of chores and was given leave to spend the rest of the day as she would. Almost every guest that they had entertained the night before had left and only the old men of the city who had no one left at home to cook them a hot meal, or at least no one left to eat it with, would be would be wanting their services when the time came for the evening meal and it was already on the stove waiting for them.
Brin pulled on her boots, wrapped the old cloak around her and unbound her hair as she headed out into the city. This time she turned away from the lofty citadel and towards the great gate. She walked briskly until she passed out into the fields and then she broke into a run, delighting in the simple feeling of freedom it gave her.
She went straight to Mîrran, the wild horse in the far pasture. When Brin had left the city only to gather herbs with the women or alone to walk a while on the grass she had met this horse and called her friend. Mîrran would suffer no man of the city to ride her for she was not raised by men. Perhaps the Rohirrim, gentle with beasts and used to their ways, could have tamed her for she was not proud, just unused to company and commands.
As she approached the low fence that encircled the pasture, Mîrran came to meet her. Her coat was a rich deep brown, the colour of polished wood from the hard trees of the south, and her dark mane streamed thick and silken behind her as she ran. Brin's heart smiled to see her and the horse neighed loud in greeting. In that hour of sunset Brin told to Mîrran all the troubles of her heart for the horse knew her well and understood the grey-elven speech and had long been party to her plans and dreams. As Brin was speaking the silver moon rose early in the North-East and illuminated the signs of spring that in her frivolity, Brin had missed. New leaves and buds braved the cold air in the branches of the trees beyond the fields and here and there in the grass small spring flowers were closing their fragile petals against the coming night. As she saw these things a fresh wind blew from the north and ran its gentle fingers through her hair that glowed silver and gold in the sunset and moonlight. Brin's heart and mind balanced and at last she made her decision. She looked back to her friend.
"When I go, will you come with me?"
Mîrran stamped her feet and it seemed she spoke to Brin of cages and shadows. For a time the two stood in silent conversation and Brin knew that when she called, Mîrran would come.
"For I know you can jump that fence as though it were naught but a clod of earth, friend, and have ever longed to do so. This city is too small for you… and for me too."
The sun had slunk lower in the sky and Brin, kissing the horse on the forehead, turned and ran back to the city. She reached the gate just as it was being closed, as was the custom these days, at last light.
She ran on into the city and followed its twists and turns until she came to the mess as the men of the companies were leaving and caught Beregond by the arm. He had been lost in thought and started at her sudden appearance and he started again when he saw her. As he had long been used to her in her fighting gear, clothed as like to any man who was not on duty as could be. But now she stood before him, long curling hair loose about her pale face, flushed with running and the wind, and her long blue dress that swung about her ankles in the breeze. Not only this but she seemed to him very different from the person he had seen that morning. Sterner but also lighter of heart and mind.
By now the other soldiers had passed on to duties or rest and the street was empty. Beregond, seeing a new sparkle in the eyes of his friend asked, "What are you going to do?"
Brin smiled sadly, "I am going to leave."
"Leave?"
"My mother's kin dwell in the north. Many seasons has it been in my heart to seek them out. I can do no more here, Beregond."
"I at least do not doubt your ability to defend yourself," he said, rubbing a new bruise on his side. "But must you leave? No, I see that you must. Have you at least some surer destination than north?"
"The grave of my grandfather lies on the shores of Lake Evendim in Arnor, the realm that was lost. I shall begin my search there."
"And what do you expect to find?"
"I do not know."
Beregond sighed for he saw there was no staying her, and even if there was he had not the right.
"I would go with you."
"Your part is here." Brin said. She did not know of the foresight of her people and even if she did she would not have believed the gift had passed to her. But she had it none the less, and at times it was strong in her. "I shall return to the white city and this will not be our last parting."
"I hope you are right, dear friend." They clasped hands and embraced, and then both turned away into the darkening city.
When Brin came to the inn, Haelwen was sitting by the kitchen fire, her tired feet propped on a stool before her and her sewing basket on her lap.
Brin took off her cloak and boots and came to sit at her side on the warm stones. This parting was most difficult for her.
"Mother, I mean to go forth from the city and seek my kin in the north."
Haelwen put aside her sewing and smiled down at Brin, "I knew this day would come. And for two years I have been expecting it, though the sorrow long expected is not less sorrowful."
Brin marvelled at this for often she thought her guardian knew her not at all and could not see her heart, though she loved her and knew her to be wise. "I will return."
"I know you will, petal, because you're strong and learn quickly. But in these dark times every parting may well be a last parting."
The two women stood and embraced; the older, shorter and more care worn, the younger, tall and fair like a sapling whose first flowers have appeared and to the wonder of all they are made of steel.
At last Haelwen drew back. "Well, if you will be off in the morning you will need your rest."
Again Brin wondered at Haelwen's seeing for she had mentioned to no one save her friend in the pasture that she intended to leave so soon but she could think of nothing more to say to one who had been parent and friend to her for many pleasant years.
The sun was lying on the horizon, blazing red and gold, when Brin ran out of chores and was given leave to spend the rest of the day as she would. Almost every guest that they had entertained the night before had left and only the old men of the city who had no one left at home to cook them a hot meal, or at least no one left to eat it with, would be would be wanting their services when the time came for the evening meal and it was already on the stove waiting for them.
Brin pulled on her boots, wrapped the old cloak around her and unbound her hair as she headed out into the city. This time she turned away from the lofty citadel and towards the great gate. She walked briskly until she passed out into the fields and then she broke into a run, delighting in the simple feeling of freedom it gave her.
She went straight to Mîrran, the wild horse in the far pasture. When Brin had left the city only to gather herbs with the women or alone to walk a while on the grass she had met this horse and called her friend. Mîrran would suffer no man of the city to ride her for she was not raised by men. Perhaps the Rohirrim, gentle with beasts and used to their ways, could have tamed her for she was not proud, just unused to company and commands.
As she approached the low fence that encircled the pasture, Mîrran came to meet her. Her coat was a rich deep brown, the colour of polished wood from the hard trees of the south, and her dark mane streamed thick and silken behind her as she ran. Brin's heart smiled to see her and the horse neighed loud in greeting. In that hour of sunset Brin told to Mîrran all the troubles of her heart for the horse knew her well and understood the grey-elven speech and had long been party to her plans and dreams. As Brin was speaking the silver moon rose early in the North-East and illuminated the signs of spring that in her frivolity, Brin had missed. New leaves and buds braved the cold air in the branches of the trees beyond the fields and here and there in the grass small spring flowers were closing their fragile petals against the coming night. As she saw these things a fresh wind blew from the north and ran its gentle fingers through her hair that glowed silver and gold in the sunset and moonlight. Brin's heart and mind balanced and at last she made her decision. She looked back to her friend.
"When I go, will you come with me?"
Mîrran stamped her feet and it seemed she spoke to Brin of cages and shadows. For a time the two stood in silent conversation and Brin knew that when she called, Mîrran would come.
"For I know you can jump that fence as though it were naught but a clod of earth, friend, and have ever longed to do so. This city is too small for you… and for me too."
The sun had slunk lower in the sky and Brin, kissing the horse on the forehead, turned and ran back to the city. She reached the gate just as it was being closed, as was the custom these days, at last light.
She ran on into the city and followed its twists and turns until she came to the mess as the men of the companies were leaving and caught Beregond by the arm. He had been lost in thought and started at her sudden appearance and he started again when he saw her. As he had long been used to her in her fighting gear, clothed as like to any man who was not on duty as could be. But now she stood before him, long curling hair loose about her pale face, flushed with running and the wind, and her long blue dress that swung about her ankles in the breeze. Not only this but she seemed to him very different from the person he had seen that morning. Sterner but also lighter of heart and mind.
By now the other soldiers had passed on to duties or rest and the street was empty. Beregond, seeing a new sparkle in the eyes of his friend asked, "What are you going to do?"
Brin smiled sadly, "I am going to leave."
"Leave?"
"My mother's kin dwell in the north. Many seasons has it been in my heart to seek them out. I can do no more here, Beregond."
"I at least do not doubt your ability to defend yourself," he said, rubbing a new bruise on his side. "But must you leave? No, I see that you must. Have you at least some surer destination than north?"
"The grave of my grandfather lies on the shores of Lake Evendim in Arnor, the realm that was lost. I shall begin my search there."
"And what do you expect to find?"
"I do not know."
Beregond sighed for he saw there was no staying her, and even if there was he had not the right.
"I would go with you."
"Your part is here." Brin said. She did not know of the foresight of her people and even if she did she would not have believed the gift had passed to her. But she had it none the less, and at times it was strong in her. "I shall return to the white city and this will not be our last parting."
"I hope you are right, dear friend." They clasped hands and embraced, and then both turned away into the darkening city.
When Brin came to the inn, Haelwen was sitting by the kitchen fire, her tired feet propped on a stool before her and her sewing basket on her lap.
Brin took off her cloak and boots and came to sit at her side on the warm stones. This parting was most difficult for her.
"Mother, I mean to go forth from the city and seek my kin in the north."
Haelwen put aside her sewing and smiled down at Brin, "I knew this day would come. And for two years I have been expecting it, though the sorrow long expected is not less sorrowful."
Brin marvelled at this for often she thought her guardian knew her not at all and could not see her heart, though she loved her and knew her to be wise. "I will return."
"I know you will, petal, because you're strong and learn quickly. But in these dark times every parting may well be a last parting."
The two women stood and embraced; the older, shorter and more care worn, the younger, tall and fair like a sapling whose first flowers have appeared and to the wonder of all they are made of steel.
At last Haelwen drew back. "Well, if you will be off in the morning you will need your rest."
Again Brin wondered at Haelwen's seeing for she had mentioned to no one save her friend in the pasture that she intended to leave so soon but she could think of nothing more to say to one who had been parent and friend to her for many pleasant years.