Chapter 2

A Man Apart

The snow had finally stopped falling and the skies had cleared, and now the round summits of the downs reflected the newly revealed light of the full moon so brightly that it seemed the night had been replaced by a pallid imitation of the day. Maenir allowed himself a short moment of childlike delight at the beauty of the scene beyond the panes of his library window before sighing and returning to the fireplace and stirring the smouldering blaze that sat within it from its slumber. Perhaps the weather had finally broken and his brother would now be able to return from Amon Sul, for it would not be before time. He did not allow himself to contemplate the possibility that Merendir might refuse, but it was not beyond the realm of possibility, for he had always been stubborn and single minded. If so it might go badly for him, for many of the lords and commanders favoured his other brother Durchon, deeming that the succession should have passed to a man of strength and prowess in arms, and Durchon had so far done little to discourage them, seeing an unexpected opportunity for his own advancement should Maenir falter. Merendir's arrival would forestall all that, if Maenir's hopes were realised. If not, who knew what would result?

How had it come to this? He had been the third of five brothers, and never imagined fate would bring him the right to rule over the realm of Cardolan. But though Aglareb's rule had been long and wise there had been no issue from his marriage to Ivrien, and the second brother Barahir had fallen during the relief of Amon Sul in 1356. Aglareb had been a strong and forceful character and there had never been any reason to believe that he might sicken and die before his time, but life never ran a true course and that was exactly what had happened. Even at the burial Maenir had been conscious of the muttering and discontent of some of the lords and high born at his sudden elevation. Unlike many of them he held little in the way of lands of his own and nor did he command fighting men or knights, and his main role under his brother's rule had been as the Lord Of Ost-en-Tyrn, though it was a role in which he had shown tremendous ability, and the town had prospered greatly as a result. From his earliest days he had been different to his brothers, short in height, less than archetypally handsome and with a tendency to run to fleshiness, particularly so as he had aged. He had always been more inclined to the gentle arts and the pursuit of knowledge, unlike his warlike brothers, but fortunately for him Aglareb had taken pity on him and became his protector, and in return he had gained a wise counsellor and advisor. Maenir had been instrumental in the rapprochement with Arthedain during the disastrous years following the death of their father King Orthoron when his land lay ravaged and divided. Their uncle, Lord of Tharbad, weary of sending his men north to die in a fight that little affected them had taken his opportunity at this time to secede from the realm and declare his city a protectorate of Gondor, for much of his prosperity derived from the numerous trading ships that came up the great river from that land. The aid of Arthedain in finally driving back and crushing the incursion from Angmar had come at a price however, and one that Maenir had feared his brothers would not stomach, for it had meant renouncing their own sovereignty and swearing fealty to the King in Fornost as part of a reunified Arnor. Aglareb however, setting aside his pride saw the wisdom in this course of action, knowing that to do otherwise would have meant the ruin of Cardolan. During the long peace that had followed the great battles of 1356 the land had recovered and his courageous decision had been vindicated. So it was that their father was the last King of Cardolan, however they retained their Princeships and were given leave to continue to govern their own land as they saw fit.

Now it was for Maenir to continue that work, but at least he would not do so alone. He smiled when he thought of the delightful creature who had brought so much joy and happiness to his latter years, and who lay at that moment in their chamber below, no doubt sleeping most soundly. Celebeth was a daughter of one of the important families of the city, and some fifty years his junior. Twenty years before she had abruptly ended his long years of solitary existence with her less than subtle courtship of him. Fair and sweet as a rosebud in Spring, she could have had her pick of any of the fine young men of the land, but had set her heart on him, loving him for his kindness and gentle nature. Her father, who was of an age with Maenir had been appalled when he first learnt of their troth, but could not gainsay the match for it was eminently suitable in every other way. So they had wed, and now had three beautiful children, two girls and a boy, and the corridors of his halls previously so silent and solemn, had rung with the sound of happiness and laughter ever since. Heartened by the thought and finally growing weary, he collected the small lantern from the mantlepiece to light his way and left the library. He entered his bedchamber a silently as he could but despite his lack of skill in that art his sleeping wife did not stir and he was able to stand for a moment gazing down on her softness and listening to her steady breathing. Once again he was overcome with love and wonderment at the thought that she could possibly be his.

It was barely day when he woke, even with the brightness of the snow outside, but he was alone. He rose and dressed himself before descending to the kitchens and dining chamber where the servants were already bustling around and found his family were eating a hearty breakfast. The children exclaimed with pleasure when they saw him, and rose to greet him in turn, Aewen, almost a woman at seventeen, her sister Lethil who was two years younger, and Bruinir who was eleven, all of them tall, slender, and fair of face like their mother. She too rose and embraced him, her smile like a sunrise, and asked him how he fared, a look of concern upon her sweet face. "Ada, we are all going to ride our horses in the snow today" interrupted his son before he could reply "will you come with us? Please!" His mother hushed him "another time Bruinir, I am sure, but you know how much your father has to do at the moment". Maenir smiled "yes not today sadly, for it is a fine day and the downs will be most fair under their snowy blanket, but I fear I could not keep up with you all anyway, you ride much too fast on your ponies!" There was laughter, and reminiscences of various mishaps on previous outings followed, for he was no great horseman compared to his children. They sat and ate together for a little while, and Maenir thought to himself that if a man was blessed with such cause for happiness within his own walls then he could surely face anything that lay beyond them with resolve and a fortitude.

A short while later he saw them all off from the courtyard, amongst much merriment, and then took the short walk from his own halls to the Palace and Keep, accompanied by his servants. They made their way carefully through the newly trodden snow, and as they approached their destination met a group of guards who were setting out to clear the streets of their overburden. Maenir acknowledged their deference to him as he passed and thanked them, feeling quiet satisfaction, for it was just one example of the judicious care and attention with which he had ruled Ost-en-Tyrn for the past half century. He might not be a mighty warrior, but under his stewardship it had become one of the fairest and most prosperous cities in the north, and few who dwelt there had any cause to resent his rule, quite the contrary. Soon the steep walls of the Keep were overhead, the guards at the gate stood to attention and admitted them and Maenir's thoughts turned reluctantly once again to the day ahead. Another day of meetings with minor lords and members of important families lay ahead, ostensibly to allow them to make themselves known to him and congratulate him on his accession to the throne. However in reality it was often to seek favour, make plaint about injustices by others and attempt to jockey for position against their peers and rivals, and he knew he would have to sit politely through it all and try not to commit to anything if he could help it.

Once inside he trod the familiar route to the throne room and meeting hall as he had done so many times previously, when his life had been much simpler and Aglareb had been the one who had been the one to command. In theory he should have been thinking about moving his household from the Governor's Hall to the Palace and Keep, but he did not have the heart to uproot his wife and family, and neither did he wish to remove the Lady Ivrien, Aglareb's widow from her apartments against her will, for she too had dwelt there for a very long time. If and when Merendir returned perhaps he could be housed there too, the original military purpose of the place meant it was rather more austere than his own dwelling, and might suit him better. Upon entering the chamber the servants set about preparing it for his audiences, and feeling slightly uncomfortable once again he was dressed in a gilded robe and circlet as custom demanded. A pair of guards arrived, announced themselves and took up positions outside the door while he seated himself at a table below the old throne and waited. A few minutes later the Chamberlain arrived shooing the servants out, a middle aged man with a permanently harassed expression called Erestor whose faintly comical appearance belied a fearsome competence and devotion to duty. He had served his brother well for a many years and Maenir saw no reason to replace him, something Erestor was clearly very grateful for. After performing a slightly over elaborate obeisance he was about to begin informing Maenir of the business of the day when there was a loud rap on the door and his younger brother Durchon swept in. "A word if I may brother. All of you, out!" Durchon, like his son Amarion was the very figure of a fine Dunedain warrior, and although the years were now telling on him as they did with the other two brothers he remained formidable and held much sway in the south of Cardolan, where he was Lord Of the city of Sarn Athrad. Maenir did not reply at once, and a deathly silence fell in the chamber, the Chamberlain unsure whether to comply or not. "Brother" sighed Maenir "you forget yourself once again, for you are the first to insist on the strict application of procedure and of correct behaviour. But once again I will forgive you, so long as you do not repeat the fault. Now please state your business. And Erestor, remain where you are". For a moment Durchon looked unsure whether to be angered or not by his response but then continued in his original tone. "Very well, let him remain, there are perchance few secrets he is not already privy to in these halls. Do you have news yet from Merendir? Does he accept your offer of a position here? Snow or no, my son has been gone nigh on a month now and there is still no sign of him. The Lords and Leading Families are restive, they want to know that there is a firm hand at the helm, and they will not wait forever". Then after a pause a calculated rejoinder followed"And pray what do you propose to do if I enter without due ceremony again?"

Maenir bristled inwardly at such insolence, but a lifetime of practice receiving insults from his younger brother allowed him to remain impassive. "Durchon, you presume too much. I expect Merendir here within the fortnight, for if the snow was at least as bad here as there then he will only just have been able to commence his journey. As for firm hands on helms, the only discontent and concern I can detect is from those who wish to apply that firm hand for themselves, and they spend their days fomenting discord toward that end in despite of the fact that our realm is at peace and all is otherwise well in the land. Be careful brother, treason is treason wherever it stems, and if there is one thing I am known for it is an impartial and thorough application of our laws and punishments. And if you enter here unannounced again I will have the guards throw you out". To Maenir's profound dismay his brother actually laughed. "Throw me out? There's not a soldier in Cardolan who would dare do such a thing, for they know I would have their head if they so much as laid a hand on me. I warn you brother, time is running out!" With that he turned with a look of contempt on his face and strode from the chamber. Maenir, filled with an all too familiar impotent rage, beat his fists on the table and then held his head in his trembling hands for a moment while he composed himself, Erestor standing mute and impassive nearby. Eventually he composed himself, and exhaling asked the Chamberlain to continue with the order of business for the day.

It turned out to be most wearisome, for Maenir found himself greatly distracted by what had passed between him and his younger brother and as a result had even less patience than usual with the succession of petty and self important individuals who presented themselves to him,. But eventually the last of them had departed and the rest of the day's business had been concluded and he was at last able to lay aside coronet and robe and depart the Keep. Outside the light was fading under another faultlessly clear sky and the moon was climbing in the eastern sky as the sun set, and he trudged the cleared lane home to his halls deep in thought. It was the sheer effrontery and impudence of Durchon's manner which angered and upset him most, and unless Merendir returned soon there would be little obstacle to his being deposed and replaced as Ruling Prince. His brother had the support of the leading houses of the south and surely among large parts of the soldiery too, and it was unlikely that he could now be bought off with the role of Captain General having already been overlooked for that position in favour of Merendir. Could he look to Arthedain for help? Though he had many friends in Fornost and was well regarded there he suspected that they would treat this as an internal matter for Cardolan. His replacement would not threaten the loyalty of their neighbour or affect the relations between them, so no hope could be found in that direction. He tried to think of those who he could rely on around him but soon realised that they would never be sufficient to stem what might be coming. And then a further thought struck him and filled him with a dread as sharp as the evening air, for though his own banishment or even death at his brother's hand would be something he would to face if he had to, his children would also stand in the way of a legitimate succession if and when the time came for Amarion to succeed his father. Although he could not believe his brother capable of such a deed he knew the thirst for power could drive men to do terrible things. He must make plans at once for their secret evacuation should it become necessary, north or westward, and he had good and reliable men in his household who could accompany them.

The mood within his chambers could not have been more different to his own, for his family had spent a wonderful day together riding for many hours through the snowy downs, and they were now as weary and contented as their ponies. They were seated around the great fireplace engaged in quiet activity when he entered and once again greeted him joyfully. "Ama, Ama, we saw him!" cried Bruinir, rising and running over to embrace his weary father, his face ruddy and eyes bright and excited. "Who did you see?" he replied, unable to resist smiling at such unbridled joy, though already suspecting the answer. "The funny dancing man in the hills, he sang to us and made us laugh" exclaimed his son "I like him very much". Celebeth, her face also bright from a day in the cold and even more beautiful as a result smiled brightly and embraced her husband in turn before turning to her son. "I have told you Bruinir, his name is Iarwain, and though he is cheerful and funny there is much more to him than meets the eye, for he is neither man nor elf and has ranged these hills for years uncounted. We have many stories about him, he has always been a good friend to our people and come to the aid of many travellers lost on the high downs in a storm, including your father when he was a boy". Maenir nodded, smiling, remembering how he had once lost his way and become benighted in a great fog. This Iarwain had found him and taken him home to his dwelling and what followed had been one of the strangest and most restful nights of his life. Perhaps if there was no other choice he could send his wife and children there for protection? For strange as he was Maenir could not believe he was capable of anything other than good.