NOTE TO READER-Sorry this one is so short...don't really know how that happened. Look for another one later today. I can't thank my reveiwer enough, you're just the light of our world right now. :-)
Andúin had fallen into a light sleep in their absence, but awoke when she heard their returning voices. Jnían burst into their small campsite, a large smile spread across her face. "Andúin, we've found another clue," she was saying.
"And Lhach," Faroth added, appearing behind her. "He has gone to regather his men. We cannot stay here much longer."
Andúin frowned slightly at Faroth's words, but then returned to Jnían. "Well then, what is it?" she inquired.
"That is for Hwesta to figure out for us," Jnían said. "Where is he?"
"He's right—"Andúin cut off, looking around the campsite. "Oh, I fell asleep while you were gone! I don't know where he is."
"We'll look for him," Faroth said.
"I'll stay here," Jnían offered, "He might return."
"Very well, Faroth and I shall search," Andúin started to leave and Faroth followed her. "What took the two of you so long?" she inquired thoughtfully when they were a distance away.
"We weren't gone that long…were we?" he said carelessly. Andúin nodded. "It must have taken us longer then I thought looking for the clue," he smiled.
Back at the camp, Jnían caught a small glimpse of Hwesta. He was of course picking herbs out in a nearby clearing. Frequently you'd see his small head bob up and down. Jnían decided to let him be for another moment when twelve men shot out from the forest shadow. She whistled for Aátrius to retrieve Faroth and Andúin. She herself rode Amáteria as fast as she could to the clearing, but by the time she reached it, Lhach already had his possession.
"I don't know why I never thought of it before. I didn't know this little one could read the sacred language. I never would have wasted my time on you," Lhach mocked her.
By this time Faroth and Andúin had brought their own horses parallel with Jnían's. "Shall we?" Lhach commented to his men, and began to leave. Jnían started after them, but was stopped by Andúin's voice.
"Jnían, not now."
"Yes," Jnían halted, "we must try to decipher the clue on our own."
"We'll find him," Faroth reassured them. "We'll find him."
Andúin pulled the large translation book from her saddlebag. She carried it over to the small fire they had made, seating herself snuggly between Faroth and Jnían. She had take then outer layer of armor off for the first time in a while, and she felt considerably lighter and better.
She opened the book onto her lap, and then took the bit of parchment from Jnían that had the clue written in a flowing script in the ancient language upon it. Andúin tried for a while to translate it, Jnían and Faroth talking over her. Finally she slammed the book shut, frustrated, causing the other two to jump.
"What is it?" Jnían asked her.
"I'm only getting gibberish," Andúin said, her face in her hands. "This was a lot easier with Hwesta here."
"You don't think he will tell them anything, do you?" Faroth interjected.
"You don't know Hwesta as we do," Jnían said. "He will tell them nothing."
"Lhach appeared much better then before," Andúin said. "The last I personally had seen of him was a limp body on the ground amongst a battle."
"They must have a skilled healer amongst their ranks," Faroth replied. "Speaking of, how is your arm, Andúin?"
Andúin sighed heavily in response, laying her hand on her arm. "The pain is dulling," she said, "but its going to be terribly scarred, I'm afraid."
"Well, it shall be an interesting conversation piece," Faroth grinned.
Andúin returned his grin. "Somehow I don't believe the ladies of the court will enjoy this tale much."
"You don't seem much of a 'lady of the court,' if you don't mind my saying," he replied.
"I take that as a compliment, Faroth." They both laughed together.
Suddenly Jnían started to laugh as well, alone. At some point she had taken the book from Andúin and looked herself at it. "You can tell your Westron roots, Andúin," she said. "You aren't even close. You do not change this from this odd language into Westron as you first tried, nor the Sindarian you tried below. It must be Quenya, for that is the eldest of the languages."
"Then it is good we have you amongst us," Faroth said. "Quenya is spoken by the High Elves, and though I speak that of the Grey Elves, it will help me little in this."
"I will do my best," Jnían said.