Garinor wanted to help the hamlet of Arvion, but Elder Dorin had told him to leave immediately and not to look back. He must have foreseen the fate of the village and therefore must have taken precautions to save everyone. If he went back now, he might be caught by those who set the blaze and then this quest would be for naught.
It wasn’t easy for Garinor for push himself onward in the darkness, but he did so mostly to lend assurance to his decision, for the further he went from the fire, the less likely it was he would even be able to get back in time to help anyone. When the darkness made the landscape impassable, Garinor settled down and slept fitfully for the night.
The next morning, he started his day by facing west. The sky was hazy from the fire, but no new smoke rose into the air and so the blaze had been doused and the surrounding forest had not caught. This soothed Garinor’s worries, for if the hunters had torched the town to fish him out, they wouldn’t likely have cared much about the surrounding area. If the trees were still well, then Elder Dorin and the other villagers must have protected them themselves.
He rummaged through the sack and ate a fruit-filled pastry and washed it down with a few sips of water. He tried not to consume too much, hoping to ration out the food for as long as possible. The sun was peering at him over the horizon and it reminded him he needed to keep moving.
The morning went briskly by and he kept heading due east the entire way. He kept his eyes open for other travelers, wondering if the hunters would find him even here out on the fields.
He passed a small outcropping of houses that were mostly a row of homes which looked like it could hold rather large family. He steered clear of entering the property, but he could see they loved to grow flowers. There were rows upon rows of brilliant lilies and daisies, roses and daffodils, tulips and carnations. He wondered how they could possibly keep them irrigated all the time, but he was on a mission and didn’t stop to ask.
He continued to the east and in the early afternoon he took a few more bites from his sack and then stopped short, for in the distance he could see a rocky field ahead of him.
Swallowing hard, Garinor sprinted ahead to look at the enclave. There were stones scattered all around, but they were relatively contained in one general area. The indentation in the earth had a single path leading from it and as he looked around, Garinor understood this had been a small lake or a large pond that had long since run dry.
The number of stones in the region was shocking. He thought he was looking for three stones, not an entire basin of them. Garinor paced around wondering how he was ever going to find the one stone he needed to overturn.
Some of the rocks were the size of his fist; some were the size of his entire body rolled up. He waded through the mess of stone and searched around for clues he needed. Three stones, Elder Dorin had told him, just three. Not three thousand.
Garinor went to the southern lip of the dried pond and looked out over them all. He squinted to block out some of the detail of the rocks strewn all about and then he saw what he was looking for. With his eyes partially shut, he could make out three large shapes that were intermingled and covered by other debris. They must be the stones he was looking for.
Heartened by this discovery, he went to the southern stone, trying not to think about how he was going to move it. Surely even a host of men couldn’t budge the boulder, but he refused to think about that for long. He dropped down on his knees and he started to dig.
It took about two hours before he felt he made progress. He had cleared away the surrounding smaller rocks and had built a trench around the boulder. He thought maybe if he took away enough dirt from behind and then he pushed up from the front, he might offset it enough so its weight would make it tumble backward.
He toiled for another hour before he was able to make the boulder move at all, but at last his plan worked. He crouched low and set his feet in the dirt then he heaved with a loud cry, pushing and straining with all his might. The rock tilted and then slid backward and revealed the object it had been hiding.
Garinor looked down in triumph, his arms feeling like limp rope. But when he recognized what he was looking at, his whole body sagged and he crumpled in a defeated heap.
He had spent all that time and energy and he had only uncovered another stone.
He tried to remember what Elder Dorin had told him about what he would find, but all he could remember was that it would seem unremarkable. Considering all the rocks around him, he agreed that the new stone was indeed unremarkable.
With a resigned sigh he dug his fingers in the dirt and he pulled up the stone. It was a very plain-looking rock, relatively flat and somewhat oval in shape. It was only as long as his thumb. He wondered if it was really gold inside or some other precious metal he could trade. He laughed at himself as he considered this, for he doubted Elder Dorin would have sent him here for that.
The only interesting thing about the stone was a slight crack on one side of it. It was very narrow and it was slightly wider than his thumbnail. He thought of trying to pry it open, but he was interrupted.
“What have you there, boy?” sneered a dirty-looking man standing over at the shallow path.
“Just a rock is all.” He held it aloft for the man to see.
“Hrm. But why would you come all this way for a silly little rock?” The man eyed him suspiciously and stepped into the rock bed. Garinor saw he carried a pitchfork in one hand and though he was using it more as a walking stick at the moment, he seemed as if he could use it effectively as a weapon. Unarmed, Garinor was nervous.
He stood up and braced himself to run. “I didn’t come here for a rock. I just happened to pass by and find this one.”
The man purposefully eyed the digging Garinor had done and then glared at the boy. “That so?” he growled. “Give it here. This is my land you’re stealing from.”