22: Into the Fire

“Do you see any sign of her?” Findis asked Valandur as he exited the house, coughing from the smoke in spite of the kerchief covering her mouth.

This was the fifth house they had come to and the second with blue shutters. Valandur wished they had asked how many houses they had to pass before reaching Helinyetillë’s. It might have saved them time. The fire was closer than he liked and both horses were nervous. The only thing that saved them was the fact that the wind was blowing in the right direction, keeping the fire from spreading too quickly. But the air was filled with smoke and it was difficult to see clearly.

“She is nowhere here,” he answered, scanning the area.

“Ninquelótë!” Findis called out and Valandur joined her in calling the child’s name. “Ninquelótë!”

They waited for a moment, hoping to hear the child respond, but there was nothing.

“We need to move,” Valandur said, mounting. They started past the house and something caught his attention. “Wait! What’s that?” He pointed, not north along the dirt path they were riding toward the next house, which was about a dozen rangar further on, but west toward the lake. He urged his horse to move off the path and Findis followed. Straining to see through the smoke, Valandur was sure he had seen movement. It had been fleeting and he almost doubted his eyes but as they drew closer, he thought he saw a child huddled in the tall grass that bordered the lake.

Dismounting, he motioned for Findis to remain where she was and moved quietly, so as not to startle the youngling, who apparently had abandoned her quest for her doll to play by the lake. He could see her playing with something as she crouched by the shore. Drawing closer, he smiled at the child petting a frog and crooning some wordless tune to it. Lying beside her in the grass was a rag doll. Removing the scarf from his mouth he called out in a tone of mild exasperation.

“Well, there you are, hína. Your emmë is worried sick for you.”

Ninquelótë looked up with a gasp and the frog leapt from her hand and plopped into the water. The little elleth looked in dismay at where the frog had disappeared and started crying. “Quácë!”

Valandur reached down and picked her up. “Now, now, little one. Quácë is better off where he is. Come. Your emmë is waiting for you.”

But now Ninquelótë started struggling to get down. “Dolly! Want dolly!”

“Here you go,” Valandur said, reaching down to snag the doll and thrusting it into the child’s hands. “Findis, take her.” He held her up and Findis ably took her into her arms, setting her before her and speaking softly to her. Valandur did not bother to stay and listen to whatever she was saying to calm the elfling but went to his horse and mounted. “We need to get going,” he said and together they headed south. From here, the bridge was a good mile or so away and they urged their steeds to the best speed they could manage in the shifting smoke that blocked their view.

“The wind is shifting!” Valandur cried and even as he spoke the smoke seemed to part enough that they could see the fire. Gouts of flame burst forth and sparks flew toward them and they saw that the fire was less than a half mile from them and moving fast.

“We’ll never make it!” Findis cried.

“Yes we will. Hah! Á norë! Á norë linta!” he cried to the horses and the two steeds increased their speed.

Valandur kept one eye on the raging fire, gauging the distance and the speed at which the fields were burning. He wasn’t sure if they would make it to the bridge in time. It was going to be a race and a close one at that.

“There’s the bridge!” Findis cried and Valandur strained his eyes and saw the dark shape of the bridge looming through the fog of smoke, but it was still a good hundred rangar away and the fire was closer than that, for now they could feel the heat like a furnace fire and Valandur was sure that his tunic was smoking. Making a quick decision, he forced his horse to slow.

“Findis! Get off but leave the child,” he called out even as he dismounted.

Findis brought her horse to a halt but did not dismount. “Are you mad?”

“The horses will run more swiftly without us. Leave the child.” Without bothering to wait for her to dismount, Valandur reached up and simply pulled her off. Ninquelótë screamed, clinging to the headstall.

“What are you doing?” Findis yelled. “Unhand me!”

Valandur ignored her, addressing the little elleth. “Hang on tightly, hína!” he cried and gave the horse a hard slap on the rump. “Á norë!” And both horses ran.

“They’ll never make it!” Findis cried.

“Yes they will. Come on!” With that he grabbed her hand and ran to the stream and the fire, almost as if it feared losing its prey, suddenly leapt up, burning the grass behind them at a terrific rate. Valandur could feel the heat searing them and the grass all around them was smoking with small bits of flame here and there. Findis screamed as somehow the hem of her tunic caught fire.

“Jump!” Valandur shouted, pushing the elleth forward into the water and following her. They fell far enough from the shore that they found themselves in deep enough water to cover themselves as the fire seemed to roar over them. Valandur felt himself moving and realized that he had been caught in a swift current that was carrying him away. He struggled to see where Findis was but he could not see her. He pushed himself to the surface gasping for breath.

“Findis! Findis!”

“Here!”

Struggling with the current he managed to turn so he was facing toward the lake and saw the elleth, her hat gone, clinging to a rock jutting out in the middle of the stream, and wondered that he hadn’t crashed into it. The water was deep and he could get no purchase on the bottom. He tried swimming to her but the current was strong and he made little progress.

“Valandur!” she cried, stretching out her hand to him. He reached out and managed to grasp her hand but she suddenly screamed as she lost her hold on the rock and together they were swept away, passing under the bridge, while the fire raged all along the eastern shore.

****

“Findis! Findis!”

Valandur coughed, trying to clear his throat of water inadvertently swallowed as he struggled against the current. He was pulling himself out of the stream where it had shallowed out. How far the current had taken him, he did not know, but apparently far enough from the fire that he could not see any evidence of it. Instead, he saw only trees through which the stream ran, now angling more to the southeast.

Pushing the hair out of his eyes, he looked around, desperately searching for any sign of the elleth.

“Findis!”

A spasm of coughing took him and it was a few more minutes before he recovered. He stepped away from the shore back toward the center of the stream. It was no longer very deep, coming only to his knees. There were rocks all around and it had been one particular boulder that had brought Valandur to a halt as he slammed into it. He did not think anything was broken but he knew he would be a mass of bruises.

“Findis!” he practically screamed, beginning to panic as he searched desperately for the elleth. “Melda! Where are you? Findis!”

His gaze fell upon something that appeared caught in the tall reeds on the other side where willows overhung the bank and he made his way across, gasping when he saw the still form floating there.

“Findis, no!” he cried as he rushed to her and pulled her out of the water. She looked deathly pale and he did not think she was breathing. Struggling up onto the bank, he laid her on her stomach and began pounding her back, hoping it would force the water out of her lungs.

“No, no. Oh, Valar! Findis, please, melda, please.”

It seemed as if he’d been pounding on her forever, praying silently and not so silently, begging the Valar to hear him. Then, suddenly, her body spasmed and water began flowing out of her mouth.

“Yes!” Valandur shouted. “That’s it, my love. Easy now. You’re all right. It’s all right.” He gathered her into his arms and rocked her, crooning softly as she wept, more in fright, he understood, than for any pain she might be in. When her weeping slowed, he kissed her gently on the forehead. “Can you stand?” he asked and she nodded, but when she attempted to put her left foot down she hissed in sudden pain and began to crumple. Valandur was in time to catch her, easing her back down on the ground.

“Let me see,” he said, gently feeling her left leg and foot without bothering to remove her boot.

“Where are we?” she whispered, her throat raw, and she coughed several times and then gasped in pain as his hands reached her ankle.

“I think we’re in Lord Oromë’s Forest,” he answered. “Look! We’re surrounded by trees. The current must have brought us far, but how far, I cannot say. I cannot tell if the ankle is broken or just badly sprained, but I do not think you can walk easily on it right now.”

“Well we can’t stay here,” Findis countered. “We should cross over and begin walking back. We need to get back to Ando Tarassëo. Do you think the child made it safely over the bridge?”

“Yes, I think so,” Valandur said. “As for you walking anywhere, I do not see that happening immediately. I may be able to fashion some kind of crutch for you but you need to stay off this foot. Look, why don’t I carry you across and we’ll find a spot where we can dry out. I’m not about to do any kind of walking while this wet.” Findis nodded and held out her arms as he bent down and lifted her up, gingerly making his way back into the stream and walking where it was the shallowest, keeping a careful eye on the rocks that littered the streambed.

“How long have we been gone, do you suppose?” Findis asked as they reached the other side and Valandur stepped out of the water where the bank was low and accessible. “With all that smoke, I’m not sure I knew whether we were in the midst of Laurelin’s full blossoming or it was a time of Mingling.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Valandur replied. “I lost all track trying to keep afloat. Here you go.” He settled her on the grass under a tall beech tree. “I’m going to scout around. I won’t be long.”

“Do not go far, and do not allow yourself to get lost in these trackless woods,” Findis admonished him. “I will be very put out if I have to come rescue you, hopping on one foot.”

Valandur smiled. “Yes, ammë,” he said, bending down to give her a brief kiss on the forehead. Findis’ only response was a smirk. “I’m going to head back upstream and see how far into the Forest we’ve come. We may not be too far from the border with the Southern Fiefdom and my impression was that Ando Tarassëo was only a couple of leagues from the Forest.”

“Yes, that was my impression as well, but we may have come much further than that. Go but hurry back. I do not wish to remain alone for long.”

“There is naught that can harm you here, Findis.”

“You do not know that,” Findis countered crossly, futilely attempting to wring the water out of the hem of her tunic.

“I stand corrected,” Valandur said. “I promise, I will not be long and I will take care.” He hunted about and spied a fallen tree limb and grabbed it, handing it to Findis. “Here. It is little enough, but it should offer you some protection if something comes ambling along and decides you’re an interesting addition to today’s menu.”

Findis actually chuckled at that as she accepted the limb. “Go. I will be well.”

Valandur bent down again and gave her another kiss on the forehead. She presented him with an arch look. “We’re taking liberties, are we not?”

Valandur grinned at her. “And do not deny that you’re enjoying them.” Then before she could respond to that remark he was loping off, heading back north. He hoped that the current had not taken them too far from the Fiefdoms and he could easily return to Ando Tarassëo and obtain help from the villagers. He had no doubt that Captain Ornendil was scouring the stream in search of them, or would be once the fires were dealt with. He wished he knew how long they had been in the water.

He traveled out of sight of Findis, automatically checking the quality of the light in the sky and knew that it was sometime past First Mingling and Telperion was nearly at full bloom. He thought it had been still an hour or two before Second Mingling when they had reached Ando Tarassëo, so at least a day had passed since they had rescued little Ninquelótë.

All about him was the Forest with its mixture of beech and oak and maple and even some willows by the stream. Upstream, he saw no break nor did the trees fail, though along the stream itself it was more open. He decided to go back, not wishing to leave the princess alone for too long, so when he returned to where he had left her, he was surprised to see her missing.

“Findis! Where are you?” he cried in panic.

“Here!” he heard her call and started in the direction of her voice, but she called out again. “No! Stay where you are. I’ll be with you shortly.”

He stopped, puzzled by the embarrassment he detected in her tone and then suddenly realized its source. “Oh… um… yes, of course. I’ll… er… just wait by the stream, shall I?” He turned back and stood on the bank studiously keeping his gaze on the far bank, softly whistling something as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He heard a muttered curse and a thump and turned to find Findis struggling to walk, using the limb as an oversized crutch. “Here, let me help,” he said, rushing over to give her a hand, which she did not reject, giving him a nod. When he had gotten her settled under the beech again, she gave him a soft thank you.

“What did you find out?” she asked.

“The trees go on forever, or certainly it feels that way. I saw no evidence of them thinning. If I knew that we were only a few leagues away from Ando Tarassëo, I would go for help and be back in a few hours, but we could be anywhere in Lord Oromë’s realm and days away from any help.”

“Well, when you’ve rested a bit, we will start following the stream back. Eventually we’ll make it out of the Forests and then if necessary you can run for help.”

“Are you hungry?” Valandur asked suddenly, realizing that his own stomach felt hollow.

“Starving, but I doubt we’ll find anything to eat and we have nothing with which to cook a meal.”

“There are roots and berries, though, and succulents on which we can feast,” Valandur pointed out. “It will not be much but it will sustain us.”

“And do you know anything about harvesting roots and succulents, my lord?” Findis countered with a sardonic look.

“You forget, my lady, I crossed the breadth of Endórë,” Valandur replied a little stiffly. “I haven’t lived so long in the benevolence of the Valar that I’ve completely forgotten how to survive in the wild with little more than my wits.”

Findis had the grace to look chagrined. “Yes, of course. I’d forgotten. Well, sir, and what is on the menu for today?”

Valandur grinned. “I’ll just see what Cook has come up with, shall I?”

Her laughter rang through the woods as he sauntered off in search of berries and anything else he could find for their meal.

****

Rangar: Plural of ranga: According to Tolkien, a linear measurement equal to approximately 38 inches (96.52 cm).

Emmë: An alternative hypocoristic form of amillë: Mother.

Hína: Vocative form used with very young children of hina: Child.

Quácë: Frog.

Á norë! Á norë linta!: ‘Run! Run swift!’; the Quenya form of the Sindarin ‘Noro lim’.

Melda: Beloved/dear/sweet.

Note: According to Tolkien, during the Time of the Trees, the length of a 'day' in Aman was considered to be twelve hours long.