Erestor had been right. Soon after the searchers had been called in, two very well-dressed but subdued young Elves, their eyes downcast, crept in past a Door Warden who pretended not to see them as they passed. Celaimîr hastened to the chamber she shared with her friends, who waited in anticipation of a night during which no one would sleep, for they all meant to sit up talking giddily until dawn. Celaimîr was not happy about this, but there was nothing for it. The alternative was to spend the night in her childhood room, which was annexed to her father's chamber. She did not think this would be wise. As for Baramagor, he retrieved his bedroll and then went out again, for he had resolved to sleep in the hayloft of the stable. He had been sharing a room with Celaimîr's brother Celaithand, and he had no wish to encounter him just then.
Before dawn the next morning, Elrond sent servants to roust all the members of the patrol for an unusually early departure, for he thought it might be good if Baramagor and his scouts were out of Rivendell before the Armorer arose. Thus they rode quietly through the gate before the sun had even arisen, each carrying an allowance of food so that they might break fast as they journeyed.
Elrond himself went to the dining hall to break fast at the customary hour, and he noticed immediately that Estel was not in his place. When the boy had still not appeared by the end of the meal, Elrond became alarmed. Unlike Legolas, Estel was not one to forgo a meal. When Legolas was young, he would sometimes avoid the dining hall in favor of purloining something from the kitchen. Estel was not above stealing food, but he would still show up at the table. For him, pilfered food was an adjunct to a meal and not a substitute.
"Glorfindel, have you seen Estel at all this morning?"
"No, Elrond."
"Erestor?"
The tutor shook his head. Elrond sent a servant to Estel's room. The boy was not there, and the Gardener reported that Gwaurant had not returned to his pen that morning.
"I think, Elrond," opined Glorfindel, "that Estel took fright last night and ran off with Gwaurant."
Gloomily, Elrond had to agree.
"And we have just sent one band of scouts out on patrol," he lamented, "whilst many others are away escorting Legolas. Glorfindel, assemble any that remain who may be pressed into a search."
"I want to be included in their number," declared Erestor.
"Erestor," said Elrond, "that will not be necessary."
"I insist," exclaimed the tutor. "That dog saved my life, and I am not about to let anything happen to him. Also," he added with seeming nonchalance, "I should not like to lose my pupil, for then I would have nothing to do."
Elrond hid his smile. As for Glorfindel, he tactfully suggested that Erestor accompany him.
"With our combined eyesight, surely we will overlook no possible sign of the passing of the fugitives."
In short order, as many scouts as could be found were riding out. Once past the gate, they split up to look for traces of boy and dog, Erestor and Glorfindel riding side by side. They were the ones who did indeed happen upon the trail of the runaways, and it must be noted that they spotted it simultaneously, much to the pride of Erestor. Eagerly, they turned their horses' heads and began to follow the footprints of the boy and the paw prints of the dog.
Soon, however, the tracks of boy and dog were overtaken and lost within the tracks of a wolf pack. Was the pack stalking or accompanying the runaways? Erestor and Glorfindel exchanged anxious glances and urged their horses to quicken their pace. On they rode for miles. It seemed that the wolves were trotting steadily and making no attempt at stealth. After awhile Glorfindel voiced a hopeful thought.
"I think, my friend, that these wolves, had they meant ill, would long ago have attempted to pull down Estel and Gwaurant. Instead, they seem to be escorting the runaways."
In this Glorfindel was correct. The previous night, Estel had made his way unerringly toward the sound of his dog, being able to pick out his howls from amongst those of all the wolves that were out baying. When Estel at length found him, Gwaurant left off romping with his age mates and leaped joyfully upon the boy, placing his front paws on his chest and licking his face. The wolves drew near and sniffed cautiously at this new member of the pack. Perhaps there is something to be said for not bathing overmuch, for surely the wolves found Estel's odor to be quite acceptable, and so, as Estel and Gwaurant moved off, the wolves fell in on all sides. Thus it was that the tracks of boy and dog came to be overlaid by those of wolves.
Estel was not slow to realize that he could make use of the wolves to confound any potential pursuers. He had often seen Legolas solicit the help of woodland creatures, and he thought he would try that tactic himself. As he walked he gravely explained his plan to Gwaurant, hoping that the dog would be able to convey his thoughts to his wolf companions. Apparently he could, for the wolves soon split into two. One group immediately headed west. The members of the other group patiently sat upon their haunches, waiting while Estel followed for a time the group heading westward. When the boy judged that he had gone far enough, he carefully returned to the waiting pack, walking backwards, placing his feet in the tracks he had previously laid. Once he had regained the group of remaining wolves, he headed south, careful now to stay in the middle of the pack so that his tracks were obliterated.
Not too long afterward, Erestor and Glorfindel reached the point at which the wolf pack had divided into two. Both Erestor and Glorfindel saw that wolf tracks now led in two directions, some to the west and others to the south, but only Glorfindel noticed that Estel's tracks appeared amongst the westward band. He did not point this out to Erestor, and when that Elf opined that they would have to split up, the balrog-slayer pretended to be indecisive as to which way he should prefer to go.
"It is impossible to say which way they have gone, Erestor. He is as likely to have gone one way as another. What do you think?"
Erestor remembered that Legolas had generally headed south when he ran away from Rivendell, but he did not want to point that out to Glorfindel.
"Perhaps, Glorfindel, Estel has a mind to visit the Men in Bree." Added Erestor craftily, "I but lately showed him that land upon a map, and he expressed considerable interest."
"Bree, you think, Erestor? Nay, I think not. Dunland is closer. That is where he would make for. I shall go that way. Your pardon, Erestor, but I am the better tracker, so I should pursue the likeliest route. You go west."
Erestor was indignant, as Glorfindel had hoped that he would be, but he was not angry for the reasons that Glorfindel assumed. He feared that he had failed to trick Glorfindel into going west, not realizing that Glorfindel in fact desired to go that way. Be that as it may, Erestor was now insistent that, his honor having been impugned, he be the one to go south—as Glorfindel had hoped he would. After making a show of arguing the point, Glorfindel at last yielded with every appearance of reluctance. Both had gotten what they wanted, and each thought he had manipulated the other. They parted both of them cheerful and satisfied, although each took care to disguise that fact.
Glorfindel had not gone far before Estel's tracks disappeared, but this did not trouble him. Estel's footprints had been overlaid by paw prints for most of the way, and he assumed that it had been mere good luck that they had been visible for a time. He had not expected that he would see them for long, and he never suspected that he was the victim of a ruse that had been carried out by a boy of ten.
Meanwhile, the object of his search was making his way steadily southward, every step he took taking him closer to Dunland. By now Estel and Gwaurant had parted from their escort of wolves, and Estel knew that the further south he went, the greater the likelihood that he would encounter danger, either in the form of Orcs, hostile Dunlendings, or the occasional Southron spy. He had come away so hastily that he had not thought to gather his weapons, and so he was armed with only the knife that all residents of Rivendell carried as a matter of course. Estel was not so foolish as to think that he could continue his journey for any length of time so equipped. But what to do?
"Once I cross into Dunland," Estel thought, "I shall have to steal a weapon from one of the settlements therebouts."
Estel was of course quite accomplished at filching treats from the kitchen, but even so he was caught upon occasion. Capture in that case meant an afternoon of skivvy duty—scouring pots or peeling potatoes. But he knew that if he were caught stealing a weapon from a Dunland village, the penalty would be much worse—a lifetime of skivvy duty as a Haradrim slave, and that if he were lucky! Yet he did not see any alternative. As he crossed the border into Dunland, he thus began to keep a lookout for any signs of settlement. After awhile he saw smoke spiraling into the sky. Urging Gwaurant to be silent, he crept carefully in the direction whence it came. At last he spied a house through the trees and drew as near as he could without breaking cover.
It was rather a large structure for a Dunland house. At one end was a ramshackle shed that had clearly seen many years. Built onto it, however, was a long hall in good repair, its timber not darkened by age, its thatch not discolored by sun or rain. In the foreyard played several children, all well fed and well clad, and on a bench against a wall, shaded by the overhanging thatch, sat a plump woman nursing alert and healthy twins, one a girl, the other a boy, judging from their garments. A man and a youth on the verge of manhood came into the yard from time to time. They carried baskets into the shed, came out again, and disappeared, returning in a while with yet more fruit-laden baskets. After a time the man came back alone. He went into the shed but did not reappear. No doubt he was sorting and organizing the fruit.
Judging from the prosperous appearance of the house and it inhabitants, Estel believed it not unlikely that a weapon or two was kept somewhere upon the premises. He would have to wait for nightfall, of course, before making his move, so he settled back upon his heels, amusing himself by studying the scene before him.
"'Tis a pretty sight, is it not?" said a quiet voice near at hand.
Startled, Estel leaped to his feet and spun around. There stood the youth who had but lately been carrying baskets of fruit into the shed.
"I am sorry," said the Dunland youth. "I did not mean to startle you, but I did not want to show myself until I could see that you were unarmed."
"I am not unarmed," said Estel stoutly, drawing his blade from his belt. "I have a knife. And I have this dog."
Suddenly, to his embarrassment and chagrin, Estel realized that Gwaurant was wagging his tail.
The youth gazed at Estel's knife and then studied his face.
"But you do not want to use your knife," he said calmly.
Estel began to tremble. It was true that he did not want to use his blade, but he also did not want to be taken.
"What is your name?" asked the youth.
Estel considered. He was afraid to use his elvish name, for he knew that there had been bad blood between the Elves and the Dunlendings. Thus it might go ill for him if he were thought to be an ally of the Elves. He understood, however, that the name Aragorn son of Arathorn was not to be uttered beyond the walls of Elrond's chamber.
"I am Thorongil," he declared, choosing a Rohirric name.
The Dunlending youth looked disappointed.
"That is a name in one of the Mannish tongues. You are dressed like an Elf, and I had hoped that you were from Rivendell. Soon I am to visit there myself, but in the meanwhile, I am ever eager to hear tales of the gardens there, for I understand that they are very beautiful.
"Who are you!?" exclaimed Estel, surprised.
"I am Hyge Farmer, son of Heard."
"Hyge! I have heard Legolas speak of you!"
"Legolas?"
"I mean Anomen."
"You know Anomen?"
"Aye, we were both fostered in the household of Lord Elrond."
The two youths grinned at one another. It seemed that they had a friend in common.
"And this," continued Estel, "is my dog Gwaurant. I believe he originally came from a village hereabouts."
"My sister once sold a whelp to an elven lord—for a very fine price, too!—and the pup's markings were similar to Gwaurant's. The name means 'Dusty Gift', does it not?"
"Aye. But how came you to understand any elvish?"
"Any traders who stop hereabouts, I make certain to learn any bits of elvish happen they know. When I visit Rivendell, I wish to be able to ask questions and to greet the lord of that place in a proper manner."
"That is wise. I do not suppose there would be any harm in telling you my elvish name, then. I am Estel."
"Estel. That means 'Hope'."
"Aye," replied Estel, impressed.
"Well, Estel, will you come with me to my home?"
Estel instantly grew cautious.
"Would I be welcome?"
"Aye. My Ma and Da are well disposed toward the Fair Folk, for we owe our good fortune to one of them. Anomen gifted us with the saplings of many fruit trees. They had been growing well, but after Anomen's latest visit, when he laid hands upon them, they began to flourish and flower and fruit prodigiously. We have sold many bushels of both apples and pears, and I mean to present several baskets to the Lord of Imladris. A trader came through bragging how he meant to palm off mealy and worm-ridden apples on the Elves by hiding them under a layer of good ones. I know I can offer better fruit than that to your kindred!"
Estel, remembering the Cook's anger at his apprentice having been tricked into buying the bad apples, assured Hyge that his fruit would be very well received indeed. Then he gladly accepted Hyge's invitation. Walking side by side, they strode toward the house, Gwaurant frisking alongside—Estel had forgiven him for failing to give warning. As they neared the house, the children stopped playing and gazed at the stranger with curiosity but no fear. The woman looked up and smiled.
"Ma, here be a guest for dinner."
"You are very welcome, sojourner. We have enough and to spare for any who wander upon this good earth."
"Thank you, Aunt."
At that moment, the Man came to the door of the shed. He held an apple in each hand.
"A visitor, Hyge?"
"Aye. And from Rivendell. His name is Estel."
The Man beamed.
"Be ye hungry, Estel? We have just brought in the finest of apples. Or mayhap you would like a pear."
"I would be grateful for an apple, Uncle."
Heard offered Estel one of the apples he held. As the boy bit into it, he thought he had never tasted one crisper, juicier, or sweeter.
Even though better off than most families thereabouts, Hyge's people still considered themselves to be no more than humble farmers. Nevertheless, they behaved with a graciousness that would have put some lords to shame. For one thing, they forbore pressing Estel with questions until he had finished his meal—his portion was generous!—and sat at his ease before the fire sipping mulled cider—"pressed from our own apples," declared Hyge proudly.
Heard lit a pipe and after puffing silently for awhile—Estel thought longingly of Gandalf—he at last ventured a question.
"Our Hyge says ye come from Rivendell. Be that so?"
"Yes, Uncle."
"As fine a place as that, now why would a body wish to leave? And where would a body be going?"
Estel really had given little thought to where he was going, other than that he meant to travel south, for he knew a wasteland lay to the north. Now that he was forced to consider the question, he realized that he had few options, and none of those appealing. The best of the lot was to journey to Rohan and try to enter into the service of its King.
"I am going to Rohan," the boy declared. "I am going to Rohan to be a warrior."
"Your pardon, lad, but I have heard tell that the Riders of Rohan be grim and fierce and broad shouldered, whilst you be young and merry and slender. Mayhap someday you could serve as one of their horsemen, but I do not think you could do so now."
Estel colored slightly. Hyge's father was right. Even if he made it to Rohan and managed to beg an audience before its king, he would do naught but provoke merriment amongst the warriors before he was sent on his way. The best he could hope for would be that a Rider might take him on as a hauler of water and a fetcher of sticks. The closest he would get to a weapon would be to polish it. More likely, though, he would be sent to a field to dig potatoes. Much as he respected Hyge, Estel had no desire to be a farmer. He had been training with sword and bow almost since infancy, and he suddenly understood that, while he had enjoyed himself, this had been no mere recreation arranged by Elrond for his amusement. Legolas had told him that someday Elrond would reveal something about his heritage, something important, but Estel now realized that Elrond had been revealing something about that all along through the upbringing he had afforded his foster son.
Heard looked at him shrewdly and decided to press his advantage slightly.
"A Rider of Rohan needs a horse and a sword. Have ye those articles bestowed hereabouts?"
Now Estel blushed in earnest. No, he decided, he was not ready to be a warrior. For a warrior, when springing into action, would surely have remembered his weapons before all else. Estel knew that his bow and quiver still hung upon the wall of his chamber, and his sword lay in its sheath upon a chest. He had not given one thought to them before fleeing out the gates of Imladris.
"Mayhap you are right, Uncle," he said slowly.
"Ye should sleep on it, son," Heard said kindly. "Mayhap by the morrow another course altogether will have occurred to you."
Estel bade him goodnight and went to join Hyge on his pallet, which was thick and covered with a quilt as new as the walls. Long he lay awake, thinking about what he ought to do. Why, he wondered miserably, had Gwaurant attacked Celaimîr and Baramagor? And how was he to save his dog from the wrath of the Rivendell Elves? Over and over he turned these questions in his mind. At last he made a desperate resolution. He would return to Rivendell and plead for the life of Gwaurant. He was sure that the dog would never have knowingly harmed any Elf, and he would try to persuade the Elves of that.
Suddenly he had an inspiration. He had hidden Celaimîr and Baramagor's clothes in a badger hole. Ergo, the garments must have smelled of badger. Yes, that was it! Gwaurant had attacked Celaimîr and Baramagor because, as they crept toward the Hall, Gwaurant had mistaken them for marauding badgers. Surely Elrond at least could be made to see this, and mayhap others. And if not, he would beg the Lord of Imadris to permit him to try to turn Gwaurant into a wolf, one who would run with a pack and never venture into Rivendell. Perhaps, the boy thought wistfully, he would sometimes catch sight of his former pet as he ranged through the woods.
But what if he should fail to persuade Elrond and the others that Gwaurant should be readmitted to Rivendell or at least be allowed to dwell in its vicinity? Would he not have led Gwaurant to his death? No, he decided. He could see that Gwaurant and Hyge had taken to one another. If Elrond would permit Gwaurant to remain neither in nor near Rivendell, he would beg leave to convey the dog to Dunland, where such a dog as he would be valued for his prowess in defending kith and kin. Elrond would see no creature killed unnecessarily. If Estel could find a place of exile for Gwaurant, Elrond would approve. It would hurt to leave his dog with Hyge, but better that than to see him slain.
Estel was not altogether happy with his options, but they were realistic ones. He needed to return to Rivendell, and he needed to secure Gwaurant's safety. He was sure that he could do both, although perhaps at the cost of some sorrow to himself.
The next morning Estel announced that he and Gwaurant would be returning to Rivendell. Heard nodded understandingly.
"That would be wise, I think. Ye would have been welcome to stay here—ye and your hound both—but I've no doubt there be folk who lament your absence and long for your presence. Ye should return to them. As goodly a lad as ye are, ye must come from goodly folk, else ye would not have been brought up so well. Go and make your peace with them."
Estel smiled, reassured both to be reminded of the 'goodly folk' who awaited him and to learn that Heard was favorably disposed to Gwaurant. That allowed him to believe that, should the worst happen and Gwaurant not be allowed to remain in Imladris, there would indeed be those who would welcome the dog.
"Ye must let Hyge walk with you a ways. There be some about who dislike Elves. Too fearful to trifle with an actual Elf they be, but spiteful and mean-spirited enough to harm a man-child in elvish garb, no doubt."
Estel gladly accepted Heard's offer, and soon he and the Dunland youth were tromping merrily through the woods, with Gwaurant either trotting on ahead or ranging to either side to smell at particularly interesting spots alongside the trail. They talked of many subjects as they walked, but at last Estel came round to asking about something that had puzzled him ever since Hyge had taken him by surprise the evening before.
"Hyge, I do not have elven hearing, but I have been carefully trained to make the most of all my senses. There are many Elves who can not now creep up on me, but you did so yesterday. How did you manage?"
Hyge grinned.
"All Dunland children practice stealing softly through wood and bush from the time they can walk. We work very hard at it, and some become quite proficient. I am numbered amongst those."
"Are you a hunter, then?"
"Aye, but not of game."
Estel was puzzled.
"Then what do you hunt?"
"Dunland children trail all who journey through this land."
"Why?"
Hyge looked perplexed at the question.
"Do not the Elves send out scouts to keep watch on any that enter their territory?"
"Aye, but they do not use elflings for that purpose."
"They do not need to! They are Elves! It is said that no matter how old an Elf is, he will still move more quietly than the lightest, most agile of man-children."
Estel had to concede that, seen in that light, the Dunland practice of using children as scouts made good sense.
"Besides," added Hyge, "even if the adults didn't want to use the children as scouts, they'd go out anyway, the pickings are that good."
"The pickings?"
"Aye. Travelers misplace objects all the time. We retrieve such things, but, alas, usually it is difficult to match the found objects with the lost owners. Pity it is that in such cases there is naught to do but keep them."
"Oh, yes, a pity indeed," replied Estel, laughing.
"Some travelers," continued Hyge, "do not take good care of their tools or kit. When we see that, why, we relieve them of the trouble."
"The next time I am in your land," exclaimed Estel, "I shall take especial care to keep my belongings in sight!"
"You do that," declared Hyge. And then, with a smile and a wink, he handed Estel his elven blade before disappearing into some bushes.
Duumbfounded, his mouth hanging open, Estel stared after the clever young Dunlending. Then, grinning and shaking his head, he slipped his returned knife into his belt.
"I am glad Hyge has chosen to be a farmer," he said to himself, "else no trader would be safe!"
Whistling to Gwaurant, Estel began to walk briskly northward. The day was a fine one, the sky clear and a deep blue but the sun not too hot. In spite of the fact that Estel would soon have to face Elrond and argue for the life of his dog, he could not help but grow happier with every step he took. He was not much of a singer, but so giddy he became that at length he was on the verge of breaking into song. Fortunately, before he could do so, he noticed that Gwaurant, who had trotted on ahead, had come to a stop, his hackles rising, a low growl in his throat. Estel hastened to his side and bade him be still. Together the two of them began to worm their way forward, Estel with his knife in hand. Mayhap, thought Estel grimly, this was not to be such a fine day after all.