Hevensday, 17th of Wedmath, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Harndirion, Somewhere in the Enedwaith
 |
| Captain Inar |
"Now what?" I asked the others. "Should we try to scout from a distance? I don't suppose we ought to just saunter up and see what happens."
"We don't even know if Padryc is still here," said Lagodir. "What if his captors have already moved on? We could be wasting time."
"I think our little dilemma is about to resolve itself," said Minasse, who had remained peering around the edge of the stones. "Look."
We looked. A hulking Man with no helm and a heavy beard was walking calmly toward us, as though he knew we were there. He had a notched sword at his belt and a battered shield at his back, but he made no hostile movements toward his weapons at all. His armour was a very strange combination of styles: some plate, some chain, and some leather, as if it had not been crafted by any single smith. There was also something unusual about his face, but I couldn't quite place it.
"He is coming straight for us," whispered Drodie. "How could he have spotted us from way over there?"
"Lookouts," said Gaelira as she gazed up at the second level of the ruins of Harndirion. "We were cautious, certainly, but even all our skill could not conceal us when right under the noses of experienced watchmen in the middle of a cloudless afternoon. Let us wait, and let us see."
We waited. The large Man reached our hiding-spot. He said not a word. There was an awkward silence.
"Greetings," said Minasse casually. Still the Man did not speak, but simply nodded at us. I blinked and must have looked about as confused as I felt at the time.
"What would you wish of five humble travelers?" asked Lagodir. The Man's face twisted into what I think was supposed to be a smile, then he motioned that we should follow him into the camp.
"What do we do?" I breathed to Gaelira.
"I do not think we are in danger," she whispered back. "At least not yet. Let us follow him."
The large Man led us into the midst of the tents and past persons of all sorts: mostly Men, but there were also several Dwarves present and even a few Elves. They all seemed to regard us with some level of respect and a few actually saluted us. I self-consciously nodded in return, but I had no idea what was going on. Shortly after this we were led up a large ramp of stone. There were two of these, one on each side of the Harndirion spire, and we were climbing the western slope. It rose another fifty feet or so and the view from the second level was truly breathtaking, but I was so nervous I didn't really appreciate it at the time. There were many people on this upper level as well, but they all stood aside to let us pass. Everywhere I looked I saw banners, racks of weapons, tents, barrels of provision, and other gear of war. I wondered what in the world had brought such a mighty company so far into the Enedwaith, where there had been little enough to attract the attention of anyone else for years beyond remembering.
Our imposing escort led us to a landing which was packed with more equipment and victuals. On the far side, I saw three Men deep in conversation, but one of them caught my eye immediately. He was tall, strong of arm and sure of glance. His wore a suit of meticulously polished plate mail, all of black and gold colours, and he bore a gold-hilted broadsword which was nearly as tall as himself. His beard was short but grey and, although he wore a richly gilded cloak and cowl, I thought I knew instantly who it was that stood before me. No words had been spoken, but the grey-bearded Man suddenly became aware of us. He excused himself from speaking with the other two and came to stand before our Company.
"Ah! And here are our guests, the Outriders!" He grinned with a mischievous air. "I have been ever so eager to finally meet you."
"Mae govannen, Tur," Gaelira said to him, but her voice was stoic and guarded. "It has been a long time, Inar."
"It has, yes -- too long," Inar replied with an even broader smile. "What a merry gathering! Here before me, at last, are Nephyn the Merciful, Drodie the Stout-hearted, Lagodir of Gondor, Minasse of the Noldor, and of course Gaelira the Visionary. I cannot say I know your Dunlending friend, though I hear he has served you well these last few days."
"I am Ancthas, Oath-keeper of the Turch-luth," said Ancthas. "And who are you?"
"I am called Captain Inar," the grey-bearded Man said. "I lead this little party."
"To what purpose?" Ancthas asked. I could hear the suspicion in his voice, as though he expected they were there to invade his home country. I was deeply suspicious myself given everything we had been told about the enigmatic leader of the Seekers of the Seven Stars. Still, we were not yet prisoners -- there had not even been any effort made to seize our weapons -- but I also saw no sign of Padryc.
"All in good time," said Inar. "I can assure you it has nothing whatever to do with Dunland, other than (hopefully) saving it, but we will speak of that later. Right now I imagine you're all very curious about a great many things. Allow me to clear some of it up for you."
"Just a moment," I said, "First I wish to know one thing and one thing only: where is Padryc?"
"The Halfling?" said Inar. "Oh, he is around here somewhere, also as my guest. We will go and find him once we have spoken a bit further."
"Then you are the one behind the bounty posters!" I cried. "You had our friend made captive and brought here so you could trap the rest of us!"
"My dear lady, you couldn't be more wrong if you tried," said Inar calmly, "Though I can certainly understand your confusion. Let me assure you I am not responsible for posting those bounties; that was the work of some dark horseman whose name I have not yet discovered. He seems to have taken a great interest in you, most especially your little companion. Indeed, I hear you may have had dealings with him once or twice before now."
"His name is Izarrair," said Gaelira. "He claims to be an agent of evil under the command of Amarthiel, the Steward of Angmar."
"I see," said Inar as he cast his eyes northward. "I have not heard of him before now, but I know he is a warrior of some cunning -- he has managed to evade my scouts on several occasions, which is not an easy thing to do. But yes, he is the one who was seeking your death or capture, my friends, not I."
"Then why was Padryc brought to you?" I demanded.
"Simple: because I knew once one of you was captured the captors would eventually go and claim their bounty in Galtrev. The posters all said so. I merely found the person responsible for collecting the prize and paying the bounty, then offered him much more money in return for the captive."
"You paid off Enro Smuin to have him double-cross Izarrair?" asked Lagodir.
"Precisely," said Inar. "The obvious thing to do, if one could. My pockets are deeper than most these days and Master Smuin, I quickly discovered, is no idealist. A very satisfactory transaction, all in all."
"And why have Padryc brought here?" I persisted. "Smuin was fleeing from us and you can't deny that."
"The way I hear it, you've given Enro good reason to flee from you, but this whole arrangement was made only because I wished to meet you in person," said Inar with a shrug. "After everything you've undoubtedly been told about me, would you have accepted an invitation to sit down and discuss our differences over a pot of tea?"
"Probably not," I admitted.
"And there you have it," the captain said, grinning once more. "Simplicity itself. I wished to meet you so I could explain what I have learned, and also to ask for your help."
"And why should we help you?" asked Lagodir.
"Because I have two things you want," Inar replied. "Your Halfling friend, first of all, although I shall, of course, return him to you regardless whether or not you accept my offer."
"And what is the second thing?" I asked.
"The name of Luean's killer."
I gasped. Unbidden to my mind came the awful images of our friend's murdered body lying in the dirt and dust of the abandoned Elf-college. Just as quickly my thoughts flashed to when he was still with us, traveling across the Bree-land, before he left us in the North Downs. It was like finding him dead all over again, and the same cold thirst for vengeance welled up inside of me, just as it had all those weeks and weeks before in Tham Mirdain.
"We were concerned you may have had something to do with that," said Gaelira cautiously.
"Yes, I thought you might," said Inar. "Well, it certainly wasn't me, nor was it him." He motioned behind himself to where the gigantic, silent Man still stood, arms crossed over his burly chest. "Incidentally, I do hope my faithful Volfren didn't alarm you earlier?"
"That is Volfren?" I asked, tilting my head and giving the towering warrior an appraising look.
"Yes. He is mute, sadly: an old wound to the jaw which is hard to see now under that massive beard of his." I realized this was what I found strange about the face and, once I looked for it, I could see a long, ugly scar running up the side of his left cheek. "He is really a very gentle soul, though you would never know it to look at him. But he is not the one who killed Luean either, though he saw who did."
I was all ears, but Inar, I quickly learned, rather enjoyed playing to an audience. He approached his purpose with slow and deliberate relish and with all the aplomb of an expert story-teller.
"Well, to tell this tale fully, we would have to go back to when Gaelira led you all on that foolhardy expedition into Carn Dum. You succeeded in putting down Mordirith -- how you managed that I still haven't fathomed; would you care to tell me about it? No? Very well -- Anyway, Mordirith was vanquished but Amarthiel quickly took his place. And so your cause was a failure and the danger to the North increased beyond what it already was."
"We were told by Elrond that you were seeking to capture us and make us stand trial," said Gaelira. "Is that true?" Inar coughed.
"It was at the time," he hemmed, "But you have to understand my position: one of the Seekers being responsible for such a travesty? And Mallacai to have been involved in it? It could not have been allowed to stand! But then I learned about your adventures in the Rift of Nurz Ghashu once many of my greatest warriors returned from there (unbidden by me, for I had not yet assumed the leadership at that time), and I heard rumour of your valiant deeds in the battle against Thaurlach. This was some weeks later, for Iorelen and the others took many days to heal their hurts and the passage out of Angmar remained perilous. But when they brought me their reports, I deemed your actions were not those of cowards or subversives, and so I watched you and I bided my time."
"Yes, we faced great adversity during that period," said Gaelira. "One of our number was stricken with a dread affliction of the Enemy."
"That would be Lagodir, I trust," said Inar, "For it seems both you and I lost track of him during the subsequent days. But some while later he was seen with the rest of you leaving Rivendell and heading south into Hollin. This interested me greatly, for all the lore of the Seekers now lay at my disposal and the tale of Amarthiel was finally known to me in full. That Elrond had dispatched Luean to Tham Mirdain in the hopes of learning the whereabouts of Amarthiel's lesser ring Narchuil seemed obvious, and any new information he learned would be of great value to me and our cause. Of course, Elrond does not trust me, so I sent Volfren after Luean to learn what he could from the Elf-scholar; in that way I hoped I might find some method by which to counter the newly minted Steward of Angmar. Unfortunately, Volfren arrived at the old Elf-college to find Luean slain by servants of the Enemy. They were too numerous, so he was unable to come to Luean's aid and instead was forced to flee for many miles. By the time he escaped his pursuers and returned to Eregion, Luean's body was gone. I assume that was your doing."
"Yes," I said. "We bore him to the Elf-refuge of Mirobel where he was laid to rest with full honours."
"That is well. Volfren then followed your Company to the edges of Moria, but he feared to enter that place alone and instead returned to report to me. I have learned to communicate with him through hand-signs, and from his tale I was able to piece together the name of the one who murdered your friend."
"Well, out with it," I said, a bit cross at his taking so long to get to the point.
"It was the one called the Emissary," said Inar darkly. "And I know his true name: he is Gorothul, a Man of Mordor."
We sat in stunned silence.
"Yes Gorothul," Inar went on. "He serves the Dark Lord from his former stronghold of Dol Guldur in the southern reaches of Mirkwood. This is the thing that too many of the Elves have refused to see: that Sauron has returned. Even now his power is spreading out from Mordor."
"Not all of the Elves' eyes are blind," said Minasse, "But your eyes, certainly seem to be open and open wide."
"Many eyes and many ears," said Inar, "And many lives -- such information is not cheaply bought. But these are not the worst tidings my open eyes and ears have brought me."
"You know, then, of the fall of Saruman?" asked Ancthas, hopefully. But Inar shook his head.
"I have suspected that, but I can prove nothing," he said. "That is another point on which the Elves and I diverge. But no, I speak not of Saruman: I did not lead an entire army out of the North into these wastes just to march upon Isengard, for there would be no hope of victory with these meager numbers. I speak rather of Gortheron."
"And who is he?" I asked.
"Gortheron is a Gaunt-lord, a terrible servant of the Darkness," said Inar. "I believe that Gorothul has summoned him forth, though I have not yet worked out how. But it matters not: Gortheron has arisen. He has been gifted great power, and his mission is to destroy all of the North. My scouts report unusual activity in this region, and so I have led what warriors I could find here in the hopes of stopping him, or at least delaying him. Others of my order have gone north to try and thwart Amarthiel. But Gorothul remains a threat, and so at last do I come to my offer."
Here, Inar drew himself up to his full height. When he spoke his voice rang clear like a trumpet-call; many nearby stopped what they were doing and listened to him.
"The fate of our world hangs by the slimmest of threads," he said, "And many are those timid persons who would bow their heads under the iron yoke of tyranny -- content to submit themselves and their progeny to the soulless torment of eternal servitude! Still others there are who see not the danger and would let all the world burn before admitting to their own blindness. But you: I know that you realize the great peril in which our very existence now lies. I have seen your valiant courage and your strength-at-arms. I ask that you undertake a quest that no one else can hope to accomplish: that you assault Dol Guldur and defeat Gorothul!"
"We formed this Company to oppose the coming Darkness," said Minasse. "We have no fear of the Enemy's minions."
"Your hearts are true and pure, forged in the fires of love for each other that only battle, suffering, and the triumph of victory can produce," Inar went on. "Gaelira, I know we do not agree on this, but surely you must see that now, now is the time for action! At long last shall the Free Peoples prove their worth, and then Varda will bestow her blessing upon us and reveal the Seven Stars! With them, the Enemy will be defeated and peace shall descend upon Middle-earth at last!"
Several voices around me cheered in response. Inar seemed to have grown taller while everything around him had shrunk into lesser importance. His eyes burned with a zealous fire and his lips quivered with passion. My own heart leaped within me in fierce defiance of the dark forces against which he spoke, and I felt my courage rising like a flooded river after an intense summer rain. Inar's voice boomed out from the spires of Harndirion, turning wills as surely as the branches of trees must blow in the same direction as the wind. He spoke with a plainness and a truth that came from absolute certainty with devotion to a cause far greater than himself -- greater than any of us. In that moment I felt I would have followed him into the very Pits of Angband, had he asked it of me.
Then, in a flash, I realized that this was the Man against whom Elrond had warned us: a born leader who commanded the power to turn Men's hearts with his impassioned pleas and courageous leadership. The old tales were full of similarly gifted captains who had inspired tens of thousands to perform deeds of great nobility -- or evil. I swallowed. No one spoke for a long minute.
"First we would see our friend," Gaelira said, firmly. The fire faded from Inar's eyes, but he smiled.
"Of course," he said. "Follow me."
He led us down the ramp on the eastern side of the spire and into a cluster of tents. There we found a small throng of people, all huddled around something we could not see, but we heard the piping of a lively tune coming from within their midst. Everyone was clapping to the music and a few were even dancing, but once they saw Inar approach, they all ceased their merry-making and stood at attention. The piper suddenly flubbed a note and the music ended lamely just as the crowd finally parted to reveal...
"PADRYC!!!" I screamed, and I rushed forward to scoop my little friend up in a tight embrace.
"Gah! Neph... can't... breathe..." he said, so I quickly put him down and smoothed his clothes while blushing terribly. Padryc turned and offered the flute he had been playing to a Man who stood nearby.
"I appreciate your kind gift, Walter," he intoned with a bow, "But sadly I must return it: your finger-holes are positioned too far apart for my little hands! I'm afraid I must decline."
"Can't you put your precious hobbit-manners on hold for two minutes for the sake of your friends?!" I demanded. "Are you hurt? Did they injure you in any way?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Neph," he said with an enormous grin. "As you can see I am perfectly fine now. Gaelira! Drodie! Minasse! Lagodir! It is wonderful to see you all again, and safe!"
"We chased you through swamp and fen, down tunnels and into orc-holds only to find you here giving a musical performance?" laughed Drodie. "Just like a hobbit! I cannot count myself surprised."
"Nor I," said Lagodir, "Six days' pursuit with little sleep and dwindling commons while you dance and carouse here in leisure. I hope you have some appreciation for the great pains you have caused your friends." But of course Lagodir was only joking and he winked as he said this.
"I had a hard enough time myself!" said Padryc while those around us laughed. "You should try getting kidnapped, bumping along in a potato-sack through a bog, then getting ambushed by goblins, chased down a haunted mine-shaft, getting re-kidnapped, locked in a cage, and hauled all the way to Galtrev only to become the focal point of a complete brawl in open daylight! Then you'd have the pleasure of being carted away again, and marched or ridden to exhaustion all so we could beat you here."
"Well, the important thing is we are together again," I smiled. "And I have a few things you will be glad to see again." I handed over his dagger, pack, and even his hat.
"Mercy me!" he exclaimed, "I admit I wasn't expecting to see those again. The hat I had given up for good -- and I think it will need a proper washing after that goblin stole it from me, anyhow -- but bless you for finding my dagger and backpack! My journal is in that pack, you know, and I would hate to lose that above all else. By the way, did you happen to find my paper off the road north of Galtrev?"
"We did," I said, "Or, rather, Minasse did. It had me puzzled at first, but Gaelira quickly worked out the meaning."
"Yes, it had fallen loose out of my book some days before, so I had been carrying it in my pocket all that time. I wanted to leave a sign that I still had my wits about me, and the timing worked out well too, because shortly after that Smuin met up with some accomplice of his who brought him several horses. After that I'm afraid we were rather out of your reach."
"And it stumped us for many miles," said Drodie. "You were always ahead of us despite our best efforts -- I had begun to wonder whether your ankles had sprouted wings!"
"I was just relieved to finally be set down," he chuckled, "But I can't deny that it has been quite pleasant ever since arriving here. I've had decent food and a chance to rest -- at least for about the half day or so before you showed up. Now, I expect, it will be back to hard living once again!" We all laughed.
"I am just glad you are all right," I said, "If that Enro Smuin had harmed a hair on your head --"
"You would've what?" demanded a harsh voice from behind us. We spun around and there was none other than Enro Smuin himself, smiling a broad smile and gnawing at a leg of roasted meat!
"SMUIN!!!" I roared, and I lunged toward him, but Minasse held me back while Inar stepped between us. Smuin rolled with laughter and taunted me rudely.
"Hoo hoo!" he cackled, "Halloo, there, my lovelies! I hope you had an invigorating jaunt across Dunland. Nice to see you got your little one back all safe, thanks to me."
"Just wait til I get my hands on you, you little fink!" I shouted, but still the Elf restrained me. "Minasse, let me GO!"
"You lot nearly had me near the Bonevales," Smuin went on, "But I got away again, didn't I? Har har! What'd I tell you? No one ever gets over on ol' Enro!" I fought harder, but Gaelira lent her strength to my confinement as well.
"Come, come," said Inar, "There must be no shedding of free blood here -- the blood of the Enemy's servants may flow in tides and I shall only rejoice in it, but let us not raise weapons against each other."
"That toadie's blood will spill if I could get close enough to -- will you two let me go?!"
"Nyah, nyah!" Smuin mocked me. "Swagger it, my little damsel, and let the men-folk talk business. Inar! I believe you owe me some coin."
"That I do," the captain replied. He reached into his belt and flung two gold pieces at Smuin's feet. Smuin looked aghast.
"There must be some misunderstanding," he sneered. "The agreement was seven gold pieces. One Halfling brought to you instead of Izarrair in exchange for seven gold coins -- that was the deal."
"It was," said Inar cooly. "However, I had a most enjoyable chat with Master Pemberton here earlier. He told me a very interesting story about how he and his companions rid Galtrev of a certain goblin known as the Mange-rider. He also told me how you came to acquire the plunder that goblin had stolen off the townsfolk and that you profited from its sale. To the tune of five gold coins, if I remember right." Smuin's eyes bugged out and he swallowed hard.
"Now, see here, Inar, what transpired between them and me --"
"Is none of my business? Ah, but I think that when a Man comes into possession of stolen goods, he is hononur-bound to return them to their owners, not sell them for his own gain. You took the profits from goods which were not yours to sell. You gained five gold from it. You will consider these two coins payment in full of my debt to you for seven."
It looked for a brief moment it looked like Smuin was going to protest, but then he remembered he was surrounded by a small army of very warlike individuals, to say nothing of six grim adventurers, with one Woman among them ready to tear his limbs off at the first opportunity. His eyes glared and his lips curled into a snarl.
"No one gets over on Enro Smuin, Inar," he growled. Sheer malice shone brightly in his eyes. "No one..."
"Be off!" Inar thundered back at him, and Smuin was so stunned by that voice he very nearly lost his footing. "We here are all Men of action and heroic deeds. You are a cur, Smuin, and without honour. There is your fee; now get you gone, ere I permit the Woman to have her way with you."
The craven Man quickly scooped up his coins and shuffled off, muttering angrily. He retrieved a small parcel that must have been his luggage and just made it to the edge of the hill when a thick-bearded Dwarf stuck out his axe-haft and tripped him! Smuin lurched over the edge of the hill, then we heard his grunts and groans of pain as he tumbled down the long slopes of Harndirion. The entire camp rolled in mirth -- the sound was like guns echoing in the hillsides -- and to my surprise I found that I, too, was laughing with them.
"Let that be the sign for supper!" cried Inar, and his coterie cheered again. "Come, my Outrider friends, join us for a merry feast ere the night be much older!" I was shocked to find that evening was fully in the sky -- so much had happened since we first arrived at Harndirion in the late afternoon.
That night there was music, dancing, storytelling, roaring fires, tall tales, and of course food and drink. We seven friends (for Ancthas, though mostly silent and characteristically standoffish, was still among us -- he seemed to be enjoying himself) had an absolutely wonderful time in each other's company unlike any time I could recall in recent memory. We were whole once again and, at long last, it appeared we had resolved one of the many curiosities into which our adventure had enmeshed us. I can see Inar is no foe, although it seems to me that our goals and his don't exactly align, but in times like these even partial allies are better than enemies. He strikes me as an honourable knight (and that definitely seems to be the impression he likes to cultivate), but there is still definitely something unsettling about this Man and his innate charisma. Or maybe it's just me and my hard independent streak. In any case, we appear to be in no danger at the moment, and I am more relieved than I can express that we are finally able to get some much-needed rest. I had intended to keep my eye on Inar and see what else I could learn about him, but after a good meal and a pint or two, I found I simply could not keep my eyelids propped up any longer.
No comments:
Post a Comment