I do not ride enough. It is patently obvious because Eohir is absolutely wild and loving his run. Were he not such a fine horse, he'd be acting up. As it is, I'm sure there's a smile on his long, horsey face as we canter around. I let him out-and-out run for a while but we'll be out longer this way. I'll have to see if the not quite ripe apples in the trees suit him.
There's another rider, and I'm surprised to see that his clothing is almost as old-fashioned as mine.
"Good day for a ride." He does have a bit of a look on his face and I don't know him. Or the horse.
While Faramir does not actually own the horse that come to the village with him, it is a quarter-Meara gelding. If D'Artagnan knows horses, he'll see quality. Faramir's clothing and tack is from home. Styling is about 200 years or so before Musketeer times.
"It is," answered d'Artagnan. And despite the clothes being older, they were reassuring. While he was sure he hadn't passed out while riding, at least it seemed he hadn't wandered too far afield. "What is the name of this village?" He asked, almost as an afterthought.
"It is called Haurvatat," I respond. I have that feeling, the one that says he's new.
"I am Faramir of Gondor. I only visit Haurvatat." I don't want to alarm him if he is new, or sound too much like an idiot if he's not. The signs are there that he is.
It takes just a moment to recognize the name--I read the book The Three Musketeers and was myself trapped in a costume of the same musketeer. Being from a book myself, yet knowing I am real, I know better than to say anything. Especially since he has just arrived.
"I am sorry and unsure of how to say this, but you cannot get to Paris from here." I sit a moment. "The village of Haurvatat pulls us from where we were at its whim, though none of us knows how."
I tap the White Tree on my doublet.
"I was traveling from the capitol city of Minas Tirith to my post in Ithilien when I was brought here. I am guessing that you have never heard of such places any more than I'd heard of Paris before I came here." I have to smile, if a bit embarrassed. "I've had several friends from France since being brought here."
I hope I don't sound like a madman, yet I know that I probably do.
"I am very sorry. I can tell you that your friends will wait no longer than they otherwise would if you had not come here." A piece of good news. "One of the many strange aspects of this place is that time does not pass back home. I first left in the middle of a patrol. I returned and arrived back in camp early, being accused of running through the entire patrol. Your friends will never know you were gone."
This is difficult.
"I have met many people newly arrived here and never know what to say. You'll not be missed, that is most important."
Not knowing what to tell him, I can be practical.
"I'm sure you will not believe me, someone you just met, but you cannot leave until allowed to do so. As far as I know, no one knows who does the allowing so I say it is the village itself." Perhaps he will wish to try. "There is a stable for your horse, if you wish me to show it to you."
It was good that Gaston was so sturdy. d'Artagnan rocked back as he sat in the saddle. It was very difficult to understand what all he was being told and what it all meant.
He tried to boil it all down. "... so I am trapped. I cannot leave. But I will not be missed."
"It is a strange sort of prison, but yes you are trapped." Some consider it a prison. "You will not be missed."
Perhaps I have some authority.
"It sounds terrible, and completely mad, but it is true. At home I am captain of the Ithilien rangers and known for my honesty. I hope that you can take my words to heart.
"Not all here consider the place a prison: I do not. We do not know why we were brought, but we are safe enough." I close my eyes. I can be such a fool. "Perhaps you need not even take my word for it. It is possible that someone you know from home may already be here. I can show you the stable then the hotel--that is what the inn is known as."
Modern this and that, all so confusing to not modern people when we first arrive.
"There is a registry there where you can look and see if anyone you know is here."
Gusting out a breath, d'Artagnan shook his head. "All right." What else was he to do?
Except ride like the very Devil was at his heels back in the way he came. Which he did, the horse turning quickly and heading at a gallop for the forest.
So, imagine his surprise when he ended up racing toward this Faramir again. What sort of terrible joke was this?!
He is a man of action, so I'm not terribly surprised when he acts. Even though I've been here a long time, it's still strange for him to return as he does.
"That is what happens when we try to leave in any direction. Do you wish to try again?" I do hope someone he knows is here, though I've not seen any new horses or know of anyone else from Paris here at this time. It's certainly possible for me to have missed people.
"Most likely, yes. When I try to get out, I usually get stopped and cannot go further. Some are returned to the centre of the village. Others get turned around." So it will be a similar result if not exactly the same.
"Will you come to the stables? Then I can show you the inn-hotel and see if there is anyone you know already here."
"You are welcome. It is an awkward time for you." It would have been far worse for me arriving if I hadn't seen electricity on the island first.
"There are many things here that will be strange to you. I think your time is closer to mine--we still ride horses. Most here do not, or do so only for enjoyment. They travel by different means." We don't have to go through everything to get to the stable. "If you wish to know what something is, I will do my best to explain. In truth, I am hoping that someone you know is already here because it is easier to learn about these things from someone you trust."
And Bree isn't in the stables to say hello when we come in. That was generally a shock for most people to meet a talking horse.
There's another rider, and I'm surprised to see that his clothing is almost as old-fashioned as mine.
"Good day for a ride." He does have a bit of a look on his face and I don't know him. Or the horse.
While Faramir does not actually own the horse that come to the village with him, it is a quarter-Meara gelding. If D'Artagnan knows horses, he'll see quality. Faramir's clothing and tack is from home. Styling is about 200 years or so before Musketeer times.
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"I am Faramir of Gondor. I only visit Haurvatat." I don't want to alarm him if he is new, or sound too much like an idiot if he's not. The signs are there that he is.
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"I am sorry and unsure of how to say this, but you cannot get to Paris from here." I sit a moment. "The village of Haurvatat pulls us from where we were at its whim, though none of us knows how."
I tap the White Tree on my doublet.
"I was traveling from the capitol city of Minas Tirith to my post in Ithilien when I was brought here. I am guessing that you have never heard of such places any more than I'd heard of Paris before I came here." I have to smile, if a bit embarrassed. "I've had several friends from France since being brought here."
I hope I don't sound like a madman, yet I know that I probably do.
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That made no sense.
"I have to get to Paris," d'Artagnan asserted. "My friends are waiting for me."
Minas Tirith, having friends, all of that seemed less important, really, than getting back to where he had been headed.
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This is difficult.
"I have met many people newly arrived here and never know what to say. You'll not be missed, that is most important."
Not knowing what to tell him, I can be practical.
"I'm sure you will not believe me, someone you just met, but you cannot leave until allowed to do so. As far as I know, no one knows who does the allowing so I say it is the village itself." Perhaps he will wish to try. "There is a stable for your horse, if you wish me to show it to you."
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He tried to boil it all down. "... so I am trapped. I cannot leave. But I will not be missed."
That all sounded horrible, by the way.
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Perhaps I have some authority.
"It sounds terrible, and completely mad, but it is true. At home I am captain of the Ithilien rangers and known for my honesty. I hope that you can take my words to heart.
"Not all here consider the place a prison: I do not. We do not know why we were brought, but we are safe enough." I close my eyes. I can be such a fool. "Perhaps you need not even take my word for it. It is possible that someone you know from home may already be here. I can show you the stable then the hotel--that is what the inn is known as."
Modern this and that, all so confusing to not modern people when we first arrive.
"There is a registry there where you can look and see if anyone you know is here."
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Except ride like the very Devil was at his heels back in the way he came. Which he did, the horse turning quickly and heading at a gallop for the forest.
So, imagine his surprise when he ended up racing toward this Faramir again. What sort of terrible joke was this?!
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"That is what happens when we try to leave in any direction. Do you wish to try again?" I do hope someone he knows is here, though I've not seen any new horses or know of anyone else from Paris here at this time. It's certainly possible for me to have missed people.
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"Will you come to the stables? Then I can show you the inn-hotel and see if there is anyone you know already here."
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"There are many things here that will be strange to you. I think your time is closer to mine--we still ride horses. Most here do not, or do so only for enjoyment. They travel by different means." We don't have to go through everything to get to the stable. "If you wish to know what something is, I will do my best to explain. In truth, I am hoping that someone you know is already here because it is easier to learn about these things from someone you trust."
And Bree isn't in the stables to say hello when we come in. That was generally a shock for most people to meet a talking horse.
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