In the middle of the night they came for Thoren...Lysette clinged to Jayhawk frightened to death that this would be the last time she would see the Norseman alive. The camp warriors, led by the same man who led the party that captured them, unceremoniously entered their tent and roused Thoren from sleep and ushered him outside. That had been the last she had seen of him.
Jayhawk spoke comforting words to her, but they were only partially effective. Only Thoren's safe return would ease her fear and worries. Tears flowed intermittently, sometimes stopping with Jayhawk's soothings, sometimes stopping because none were left.
Two hours later the flap to the tall wide tent opened and Thoren walked in laden with booty. His smiling face turned to frowns when he saw the distress on Lysette's face. She leaped up and nearly knocked him over with her desperate hug. Through tears anew she said, "I thought they were going to kill you; and I've been so mean to you lately."
"No Lysette, no... we are fortunate indeed. Look..."
She released her grip on the Norseman and looked where he indicated. Weapons? Why weapons? They look familiar... Thoren spoke excitedly, "These are my weapons from when we were captured by the Dark Elves. They were in the cache of stolen goods Ekobar was, ummm, 'encouraged' to reveal to them. He said he and the others fell upon a party of odd looking creatures, very slender, none they had ever seen before, that is, until he saw Eme-Redser. They were heading the same direction we were and were caught in the same oasis. Some escaped to the northwest, but these weapons were among the goods the creatures left behind. I could tell from the markings that they were Norse, but not until I found the small markings with my family's insignia did I realize these were my very own weapons. See... I have my long sword and my bow and quiver back again."
"But why did they give weapons to you? Aren't we prisoners here?" asked Lysette.
"Well that's the interesting thing. The commander who captured us told me we had nothing to fear. The Sheikh had decided to pardon us because we were simply defending ourselves from his eldest son who was breaking the Sheikh's law against thievery." Thoren turned to Jayhawk. "You know, Minstrel, I think the Sheikh may not be particularly upset about his eldest son's death. The commander suggested the Sheikh was perhaps more relieved than bothered. Strange, don't you think?" Jayhawk pursed his lips and nodded in the age old gesture of shared puzzlement.
Thoren rambled on. "Anyway, we are to be feted tomorrow morning and sent on our way. The commander saw these among the booty and asked me to tell him what the markings meant. It seems they meet few Norsemen passing this way and were curious about the markings. They prefer their own weapons and so when I pointed out my family mark, the commander said to me, 'A warrior should never be without his weapons or the company of a beautiful woman. Now you have both'. And he handed these to me and brought me back to this tent... And, and... Why are you turning pink, Lysette. Did I say something bad?"
Lysette leaned into Thoren and buried her face in his shirt. He could feel tears wetting his shirt as she sobbed against him. Thoren, puzzled, looked at Jayhawk.
"You said nothing wrong, Thoren. I dare say she is crying more for joy than anything else. But I must remind you about something not so pleasant. Your weapons were obviously carried here by Dark Elves, don't you agree?"
Thoren nodded and finished Jayhawk's thought. "Yes, and that means our quest is anticipated and worse of all..." Chunky finished the thought, "There are Dark Elves between ourselves and Sar Dalaam."
Benson added. "It is good you are fully armed again, cousin. Very good indeed."
Morning found them refreshed and ready, all except for Ronen, who seemed to be pale once more and unsteady. Eme-Redser wondered anew about their young paladin.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 08-25-2000).]