The pangs of hunger were quick to revisit. Pears were not an ideal meal, and they had it as both their breakfast and lunch. Meldor's discovery of the goblin's den brought them additional wealth, but not supplies. Furthermore, it cost them time, and they were only able to depart the abandoned village almost noon.
To further worsen their plight, the acidic fruit, became more of a torment as time passed them by. Rumbling, gassy and in pain, their stomachs did not cease protesting throughout the journey.
"I can see the river." announced Meldor, riding on the front as always, and without slowing their caravan.
The announcement was good news, but his retainers were not ecstatic. The tired and hungry caravan remained on the road even when the day was already ending. And unlike Meldor, they were yet unable to see the river of Erlimbur, which was still a few kilometers away.
The setting sun was against their eyes, and they treaded the dusty road, squinting and irritated. The clanging of the silver and other metals on their pack horses was a pain to their ears. These were things they would usually be able to ignore, but the hunger had taken hold of their humor, and they were not their usual selves.
Still, they continued in their journey as they can only go forward. They were soldiers, and although disgruntled, their training proved enough to help them keep discipline.
Thankfully, their horses remain swift. Unlike their riders, the mounts were well-rested and fed. While food was nowhere to be found, grass was everywhere in the plains.
So, it did not take long until the smell of the fishy waters entered their senses. The scenes changed. Clumps of reed and sedimentary rocks began to appear by the road. And, at last, just before the sun fully set, they saw the shallow waters reflect the last of its hues.
Not long after, their caravan diverged from the road, and halted by the bank. Meldor began barking orders. The elves dismounted, and then divided into two groups. Those with Orlem were sent to hunt for their supper, while those with Tholpiel were assigned to prepare the encampment and the fires.
The starving elves immediately went to work, unwilling to let the torture go on. The fishing party gathered branches from nearby cedar and elm trees, and fashioned them into spears. The intricate elven swords were tasked to the lowly job of an old axe, sharpening the ends of the shafts.
And as they did, the night fully came. But they were elves, and they could still see well, even under starlight. Thus, they were not hindered by the darkness. When the spears were ready, the elves delved into the waters and preyed on the fishes of Erlimbur.
Tholpiel's group watched on from the shore, both cheering and jeering at their comrades, who fished in the knee-high waters with some difficulty, while they smash the river stones against each other and light the gathered dead straws on fire. They proceeded to feed the fire with twigs, and when it was big enough, proper firewood.
After a laborious struggle against the current and the river creatures, the elves, who knew nothing of fishing, managed to bring more than enough fish for every elf.
"Salmon, my lord, fat and fresh." Orlem presented the harvest to Meldor, looking neither fat nor fresh himself. But the fishes that hang on their spears, were all fitting the description, as long as half the length of their blade, and we're girthy enough to need both hands to be held.
The elven prince, nodded approvingly at the hardworking captain who speared half of the fish. The others tried but they had no experience, all the fish they had eaten before were brought to them by men.
"Fill your bellies, tonight you shall eat as much as you desire. Gain your strength, for it is needed, there remain things to be done." Meldor spoke to everyone, as the elves find their spots.
There remained in Meldor's company, twenty-four elven warriors, and including the prince twenty-five. There were five fires built, and thus the elves positioned themselves five on each.
Meldor sat with Orlem, along with Tholpiel, Elendiel, Cirdan and Sauldor. And of course, they were given the bigger share and the largest of the fishes.
The scent of roasted fishes rode the wind, accompanying the smoke that had fled for the night sky. They were without spices, but the Erlimbur salmon had fat and flavory meat that could still be tasted even with fire as the only other ingredient. It tasted even more delicious to tongues that had not tasted meat for days, with the elves, who had always practiced moderation, gluttonously devouring their meal.
They were not able to cook all the fish. The salmons proved to be too filling. With bloated stomachs, the elves laid down to rest. The beds of leaves were not the most comfortable of arrangements but the elves easily slept, lullabied by their fullness and their exhaustion.
Except for Meldor. While his retainers slumbered, the prince took out the greater Orchgond and, as if hypnotized, stared at it for hours. As he laid on his side, his head propped by his other hand, he reminisced the better days. Back when the Atherdaine was theirs, and his father was there. Sorrow, like a thousand needles, besieged his heart yet he was smiling. They were bittersweet memories.
He was the last to sleep.
He was also the first to awake. Orlem was second.
"My lord, do you hear it?" the captain asked, trying not to make any unnecessary movement. Meldor had seated himself on a rock, poking at the dying bonfire with a stick, not a worry on his face.
"I do."
"Are they scourges, my lord, perhaps another band of goblins?"
"They do not stink as badly as the scourges, but I find their scent more horrid." at the mention of the last word, Meldor's face twitched in emphasis.
"So… men then?"