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have tried to force the truth from her. I wonder how she escaped."
    "Get rid of her," said Marco, one who accompanied the king. "Her presence will bring Treteste here. We cannot have it."
    "Easy, Marco," said Ian. "We shall do nothing rash, but we shall not abandon Wynne. He turned to another Tuor. "Bring Tomen to me. Will she live Avolan?"
    "Yes, sire. We must get her to a bed, where I can administer to her. My hut is too small and we should not move her too much."
    "My house is right there and I have room," said Culver. Marco frowned. Culver came forward to help carry the Man inside. Culver, the King, Avolan and two other Tuors were needed to keep Wynne from dragging on the ground. Elise waited with the door open and a bed freshly spread. She had been on the porch, listening, and pleased at the development. Her eye was always on improving Culver's standing among the Tuors. She saw him as a future leader of their people, constantly alert for opportunities for him. She was slightly shorter than Culver; her black hair contrasted his sandy hair. Her braids rested on her broad shoulders framing her rosy face and bright eyes.
    "Good," said Avolan. "I was hoping you would offer."
    Macro looked meaningfully at Culver and sniffed. Elise threw an apple core at Macro. King Ian pretended not to notice and covered his smile with his hand.
    Wynne lay on clean linen and most of the Tuors left the house, except for Ian and Avolan. Elise busied herself at her loom.
    "Culver, if she speaks, remember her words," said Ian. "She may say things of importance to our safety, especially if she escaped and the Baron is searching for her. We cannot have the Baron's riders assaulting us for sheltering her."
    "We can't just give her to them," pleaded Culver. "Sire," he added.
    "Nothing is decided. Just keep her here, and be attentive," said the King.
    "I've given her a potion," said Avolan. "She should sleep for several hours. If she is feverish, call for me, otherwise just feed her and make her rest. Remember what I taught you. You must be calm to think clearly. This is a delicate situation. If she wakes find out what she has to tell, but don't offer information on your own."
    Culver nodded as he listened to his instructions.
     
    After they left, Culver drew a tankard of ale and stood in the doorway. He felt proud to have helped his king. He drank slowly, his body relaxing, happy to be alive.
    For the remainder of the afternoon Culver sat on a chair, watching the large girl breathe. At first, Elise smiled at him; but by dinner, she frowned.
    "She'll be fine, Culver. Just let her sleep in peace." She pulled his arm.
    "She's so large." His voice was soft.
    "Ha! She's small by human standards. Why are you so attentive? Do you favor her over me?" Elise grabbed his ear.
    "What? No, no, of course not. King Ian said to watch her."
    "Watch her, yes. But you have become enamored of her. You haven't eaten anything since she got here and you will soon fall down in a faint. Then what will King Ian think of you when he returns."
    "I understand, I understand." He walked to the kitchen but couldn't resist a glance back to the auburn-haired sorceress. Elise rapped his forehead with a wooden spoon, his legs nearly buckling. He did not look again for some time.
     
    Culver awoke in the night. He sensed a change in his house. The air was cool as usual but there was a fragrance in the breeze, soothing yet alarming in some unnamed way. He sat up. He looked at Elise, still sleeping, and walked out in the main room. Wynne was not on her bed. He looked around wildly and saw the silhouette near the window.
    "I thank you, little Tuor," said the sorceress. "I guess I owe you my life." Her voice was soft and purred over Culver's ears. He just stared. Her skin paled in comparison to his ruddy brown complexion and her hair shocked him with its redness. Her eyes were piercing like a hawk waiting for the moment to kill. He stepped back.
    "Have you a name? My name is