The city was buzzing with rumors concerning the arrival of the King of Arthedain. People were in the streets near the Royal Quarter, trying to get a glimpse of the young king. From within the Bar Aran, Nimhir frantically made preparations to receive Araphor. The King and his knights sat on feldstools in the Royal Hall, awaiting their hosts. Araphor bore the Sceptre of Annúminas, a four-foot, plain silver rod, carved with a spiral of Tengwar letters depicting the history of Tuor and Idril and the Prophecy of Huor. He also wore the Shards of Narsil, the sword broken by none other than Sauron, at his belt. Several servants brought the delegation some refreshments.
A herald announced the entry of Chancellor Nimhir and all but Araphor rose. Nimhir approached Araphor and knelt before the King. "Your Highness, you grace us with your visit. To what do we owe this honor?" he asked.
The King bade him to rise. "Kind Nimhir, we are here concerning the letter We sent to Cardolan last month. Have you had time to consider our proposal?"
Chancellor Nimhir nodded. "A permanent alliance... Yes, it would be most advantageous to our two kingdoms."
Araphor continued, "The Council of Arthedain has met and we have come to ask not only an alliance, but a permanent union. A reforging of the Kingdom of Arnor."
Nimhir gasped. "The Kingdom of Arnor. Why that name has not been heard here for five hundred years. What do you propose?" Nimhir asked, already knowing what Araphor would ask.
The King hesitated a moment, then spoke. "We propose... We ask for a marriage to be arranged between ourselves and Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess of Cardolan."
Nimhir nodded. "I see. The Princess has many suitors. It will have to be up to her."
"Then we will just have to meet her."
Nimhir had left to find the Princess and the Arthedan group waited. Artos commented sympathetically to Araphor. "Who knows, maybe some other slob will get to marry her. You know... she can't be that bad looking. Besides, even Haros has learned to live with his wife," he jested, pointing at another knight. Haros Eketta was a wealthy knight, who had married into money. His wife's ugliness was legendary in Arthedain and Haros took great offense to any negative comments. He had been in twelve duels in the last five years, being victorious in every one. Araphor nodded and prepared for the worst.
The great double doors to the Royal Hall opened and the herald announced the entry of Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess of Cardolan, Nirnadel. Kaile lead the way, wearing a pink silk dress. She bowed before the knights. Artos elbowed Araphor in the ribs. "She's not bad. Actually, she's quite attractive." Araphor barely heard Artos as his attention was grabbed by the angel who followed Kaile.
Araphor replied, "We don't think that is her."
Artos watched Nirnadel enter. "Whoa, what was Malborn talking about. This cannot be the same Princess." Nirnadel glided across the floor and curtsied before Araphor.
The young King knelt before her. "This cannot be, surely you are not Nirnadel, the Princess of Cardolan?"
The Princess blushed. "Good King Araphor, why do you ask? Surely you have heard the herald." King Araphor scratched his head, remembering the vision that Malborn had shown him before he departed: the 'vision' of the Princess, bloated and scabby. Araphor shook his head: those seers needed to fix their Palantíri.
The pair wandered the Royal Gardens talking and laughing. Anariel and Kaile followed close behind, seeing that nothing improper happened. Araphor was confident and humorous, as well as charming. Nirnadel asked about his part in the war and the fall of Annúminas. Araphor told her gravely about the sack of the capitol and of the death of his father. He told her of how he missed his father and how lost he felt as King. Nirnadel nodded, knowing how he felt. Several strides behind, Kaile thought excitedly that there was a definite chemistry between the two.
They sat together on a swing beneath a large birch tree. Araphor looked about. "Your house and lands are most fair. As you know, We are offering marriage to strengthen our kingdoms. We are not asking for any answer right now. Please take time to get to know us. We are both young and have our whole lives ahead of us."
Nirnadel sighed. "Marriage is such a distant thought for Us, good King. We enjoy the pleasure of your company and would gladly get to know you better. As for marriage, let Us think on it."
Araphor smiled. "Fair enough... One moment... Would Your Highness be opposed to a visit to our fair city of Fornost?"
Nirnadel brightened, "We indeed not be opposed. After all, We have never been beyond the borders of Cardolan. When can we go?"
Araphor jumped up, laughing. "Why, right away of course. We will leave tomorrow."
Nirnadel joined in the laughing, taking Araphor's hands. "Splendid... simply splendid."
Later, in the Chancellor's Office, Nimhir sprayed tea from his mouth across his desk. Coughing, he spoke, "What? Go to Arthedain? You cannot be serious?"
Nirnadel smiled. "Good uncle, of course we are serious. I have Araphor's word that we will be well protected. We shall bring our personal guards and staff for good measure. Do not worry uncle, everything will be fine. Think of it as a diplomatic visit."
Nimhir scratched his head and sighed. "Your Highness, you do not know how important you are to both myself and the kingdom. If something were to happen to you, I do not know what I would do."
Nirnadel put on her most pleading expression. "Oh, please..."
Nimhir couldn't look her in the eye. "I will speak to King Araphor." The Princess' expression changed to a huge grin. Nimhir could deny her nothing.
The Chancellor of the Realm sat with the King of Arthedain. Nimhir looked intently at the young sovereign. "I feel that you are an honest king. I will grant the Princess her request to travel to your lands. However, I will hold you accountable for her safety. Do I make myself clear?" he said gravely.
The King nodded. "I will hold the safety of Nirnadel no less than my own. She will have the might of my kingdom to defend her. This, I swear."
News of the Princess' travel spread quickly as an entourage was formed to accompany her. Her eight-man Royal Guard would make the trip, along with Amrith. Firiel was offered a chance to join the group, but declined to stay with the Houses of Healing. Valandil and Mercatur were chosen to go, along with Kaile and Anariel. Haedorial would be the Princess' herald. Each of the noble houses were tasked to send two representatives. The new Hir of Ethir Gwathlo sent two foot soldiers. Ostomir Tinare and his squire volunteered. Falathar Girithlin and his squire readily accepted. Celeph Calantir also sent two foot soldiers. Thangar Eredoriath and his squire stepped forward. Annael Feotar and his brother agreed to join. Finally, two dour knights from Tyrn Gorthad signed up.
Given the state of the kingdom, the fact that the procession was ready to depart in twenty-four hours was nothing short of miraculous. Araphor led his forty knights into Menetar Street in front of the Bar Aran to cheering crowds. The sun was shining, melting off some of the snow. Following them was the Princess' entourage, dressed in their finest and marching or riding along. In the center sat the Princess atop a snowy white horse. Her sable cloak ruffled in the breeze as she waved to the people. Falathar rode behind her, thinking that they would get to spend some time together. The staff of the Houses of Healing, now grown to seven, met them at the gate to the Bar Aran. Valandil and Firiel embraced, vowing to see each other soon. Finally, as the procession headed north, they let go. Valandil continued to look back until Firiel could be seen no longer. Little did they know, Silmarien moved along behind them. She was dressed in plain traveling clothes.
"These folks are going to need a little help," she said to herself.
THE PALACE AT THALION
Tardegil had done a bang up job fixing up the palace. He had the men work around the clock to remove dead plants, polish furniture, and replace wood paneling. Though the work was crude by craftsman standards, it was a vast improvement over the decay that had taken over. The arrival of the Royal travelers improved morale considerably.
The hard-core Raggers lined the road as the entourage passed, yelling, "Hurrah for the Princess! Hurrah!" They had heard of her deeds during the riot and felt she would be no less of a ruler than Ostoher, their beloved King. Tardegil waited at the entrance to the palace wearing his old, weathered silk robe. Nirnadel rode up and dismounted.
The old captain knelt. "Your Highness, it is good to see you so well. I was worried."
The Princess took his hand. "Your concern touches Us, brave Tardegil," she said warmly. The faithful captain rose and Nirnadel hugged him. He returned the affection with his characteristic big bear hug. She remembered how safe she felt in those big arms and he remembered the small, but willful girl who hid behind his chair during council meetings years ago.
The group was welcome into the palace grounds and made camp. The proud Tardegil took the Princess into the palace and up to the throne. The massive, bejeweled seat appeared as golden eagle wings encircling a red velvet cushion. The tall throne back mounted a crystal dome with an intricate etching. Tardegil smiled broadly, the upturned palm of his hand pointed at the throne. "Your Highness, you will one day sit there. This is the throne of Thorondur, the first King of Cardolan." Nirnadel nodded gravely. She knew of the throne and of the long history of her people. A great weight rested upon her young shoulders. Quietly, Kaile and Anariel waited quietly behind them.
Tardegil led her beyond the throne into the main hall, where two ornately carved stairways ran upstairs on opposite sides of the wall. Reaching the top of the stairs, he revealed the fabulous stained glass windows facing west to catch the sunset. Kaile 'ohh'ed and 'ahh'ed, being a simple girl from the city. She had never before left Tharbad. Nirnadel watched the last glow of the sunset and thought back to the many she had seen here before. Tardegil then ushered them to the King's Suite. The ornate door held a gold disk bearing the circle of seven stars, the Royal symbol. The Princess had never been in here. She spent her time at Thalion playing in the gardens or in the Queen's Suite and adjoining nursery. With much unease, she opened the door.
Tardegil bowed. "Your Highness, I take my leave of you now. The rooms are prepared and refreshments can be found within. Call if you require anything." Nirnadel embraced him once again and then slipped into the King's Office. Kaile and Anariel followed.
The King's Office displayed portraits of the nine monarchs of Cardolan, including Ostoher. Nirnadel strode up to that painting and looked up into her father's gray eyes. His regal expression was just as she remembered. The painting captured the essence of his being: confident yet gentle, proud yet understanding. Nirnadel's knees weakened. Anariel rushed to her darling Princess and held her up. "Your Highness, come with me. We will draw your bath."
Nirnadel stood straight and sniffled. "We are well, Anariel. Please, take us to the bath," she said taking some deep breaths.
Sitting in the porcelain and gold tub of hot water, Nirnadel splashed water on her face. A glass of fruit juice sat nearby along with several ripe apples from the winter crop. She drank several sips and then called out, "Kaile, please bring us some reading materials."
Kaile gladly gathered up some books from the King's Library and brought them in. She set them beside the tub on the counter. "This place is most magnificent. I have never before seen such grandeur. Thank you for the chance to see these things."
Nirnadel smiled. "Oh, We so much envied your life. Such excitement. We wanted so much to be involved with the city."
"You have been involved. We couldn't have done it without you. I felt bad having to leave the Houses of Healing, but your concern has allowed Firiel to hire three more assistants. I hear the plague had already done its worst and the number of new cases is dropping. You're the one to be envied," Kaile said seriously.
Nirnadel blushed and threw water on Kaile. "Oh pooh, you are making us embarrassed," she giggled. The two laughed and chatted on as girls are known to do.
Later, when Kaile had left, Nirnadel perused some of the books. She noticed one written by her fallen brother Braegil. Braegil was a renowned lore master, even among the elves. In the text, written in the Sindarin language, she read of an expedition that Braegil had undertaken in 1405 to the ruins of Lond Daer. Just prior to the war, Braegil had organized another expedition in the hopes of finding a fabled 'Mithril Room' of the Númenorean King, Tar-Telemmaitë. That king had an irresistible lust for the metal mithril and his wealth and greed were legendary. Though the king died nearly three thousand years ago, the fable of the 'Mithril Room' lived on. Braegil wrote of a Númenorean ship lost in a storm, known to carry 800 pounds of mithril in eight panels. The panels were completed by the Dwarves of Moria on contract for Tar-Telemmaitë. Near the end of his life, the greedy king refused to yield the Sceptre of Armenelos as was tradition, until his death. And so he died, yearning and hungering for ever more mithril. Nirnadel was fascinated by this tale. However, she noticed that her fingers and toes were becoming quite shriveled. Reluctantly, she put down the book and slid out of the tub in search of a towel.
The dinner was the finest Thalion had seen in nearly a year. Nirnadel sat at the head of the Royal Table with Araphor at the other end. Knights, staff, and soldiers filled the outdoor festival court. Four large reflecting ponds surrounded the court and diners. A feast of turkey, lamb, and beef filled the bellies of host and guests. Tardegil raised his crystal goblet full of wine and toasted the Tinares and the House of Finwarin for the feast and the supplies that strengthened Cardolan. The diners rose and lifted their glasses as well.
When the meal was done, Nirnadel sat by one of the reflecting ponds and gazed at the image of the full moon therein. Falathar sat down beside her. "Fair Princess, have you thought upon my proposal?" he asked.
Nirnadel splashed the cold water with her feet. "Good Falathar, we have just met. We are still young and in no hurry. Please let us think on your proposal," she replied. An uncomfortable silence ensued until broken by Anariel, who had watched Falathar's every movement with eagle eyes.
Anariel stood over Falathar with arms folded. "Your Highness, dessert is being served; strawberries with whipped cream. I know this is your favorite."
The Princess leapt up. She took Falathar's hand and pulled him up. "Come good Falathar, you cannot miss this treat," she instructed, winking at him in a friendly way. His heart raced as he ran after her to the Royal Table.
Mercatur stuffed strawberries into his mouth. "Mmm, chomp...chomp...slurp...I never had it this good in Rhudaur. If I ate sawdust I was grateful...chomp...chomp..."
Valandil laughed. "Enough of this down in the dust mercenary crap. How bad was it in Rhudaur?"
Annael and Ostomir nodded. "Yes, we'd like to know." Mercatur drained another mug of ale and was feeling pretty good. He traded knowing looks with Tardegil, Amrith, and Artos. All had fought in Rhudaur at one time or another. Mercatur's hand gripped his mug with such force that his knuckles were white beneath his tan skin.
"Have you heard of the Gondyrn-onen-Egladil, or Stone Trees of the Angle? They were five beacon towers in southern Rhudaur that defied the power of the Witch-King. The Cultirith, rangers in the service of Rhudaur would try to capture these towers every year and depending on the circumstances, I had both attacked and defended these towers. In fact, only four years ago I had dined in the Chamber of the Merethrond in Cameth Brin. I was one of many being honored for our part in sacking a beacon tower.
Well, the following year, when it was time to renew my contract, the agents of the Witch-King told me they weren't going to renew. So I took up as an Airund-shegan, or war lackey for some wagon train. It didn't pay much, but a guy has got to eat," Mercatur explained, drinking another ale. Nirnadel, Kaile, Anariel, and Falathar had sat down, and listened to Mercatur's continuing tale. Haedorial had also joined them, writing every word down.
"We were betrayed and pursued by wolves and Dunnish warbands. One by one, the other mercenaries fell. Finally, we arrived at Ynarri's Drift, an inn just outside of the Tirthon, one of the beacon towers. Well, we thought we had it made until the Cultirith attacked the inn. The wagon boss, Dagar, was frantic about getting his grain to the tower, so he promised me five extra silver coins. Well, we cut our way out and made it to the tower. I saw my old buddy Hirgrim among the attackers, but that is another story.
This wasn't the end of it. The Dunnish warbands arrived and a siege was formed. It was there that I met House Rhudainor. The lord, Marendil Rhudainor had recently lost his wife and had become suicidal. Several days into the siege, he organized a cavalry charge into the prepared defenses of the Dunnish warbands led by an Easterling mage named Ethacali. Well, we got our butts kicked and Marendil was killed. I was captured, but Hirgrim offered me my life and ten silver coins if I would switch sides. Well, it's obvious what my choice was.
So, for several more days, I led attacks against the Tirthon. Finally, it seemed that we had them beat. Leading a group of the Cultirith, I had succeeded in climbing the wall of the Tirthon and was fighting against my former boss, Dagar. Well, he knew he couldn't beat me, so he threw down a bag of ten gold coins, saying there would be ten more if I would switch sides.
So, after I slew the Cultirith climbers and hurled their bodies down on the orcs with the battering ram, Ethacali and Hirgrim got a little upset with me. First, they sent eight trolls against the Tirthon. The trolls breached the gate and there was desperate fighting. The Tirthon's new commander, Oswy and I poured molten lead down on the trolls, which slowed them down quite a bit," Mercatur spoke. He was beginning to shake and downed another mug of ale. Perspiration poured down his face onto the table.
Haedorial looked down at the scribbled notes that he had taken. "Go on," he urged. The Princess and Kaile grasped the edge of the table, white as ghosts and Anariel covered her face.
Mercatur slowly nodded. "All right...That mage then sent his most foul allies...They came by air, unnoticed...horrible...I...I can't go on," he said, pale white by this time.
Haedorial grasped Mercatur by the shoulder. "But you must."
Valandil pulled him back. "Don't push it, Haedorial." The bard nodded and sat back down. Mercatur drank another ale and then began to mumble an old Rhudauran song from the trollshaws.
Kaile looked at him. "I think he's drunk. Let's get him to bed."
The crew helped Mercatur back into the palace and into one of the rooms. He flopped into bed and began snoring very loudly. After they shut his door, Ostomir looked at Valandil and commented, "You two look very familiar."
SOUTH OF FORNOST ERAIN
The party was now approaching the outskirts of the new capitol of Arthedain. Their journey had taken several days in the thickening snow. The snow-covered hedges that lined the road gave a mystical feel to the journey. Invigorated, Nirnadel and Kaile inhaled the fresh air and talked of riding and sledding. Meanwhile, Valandil had finally satisfied Ostomir that he and Mercatur were engaged in a legitimate operation when they stood outside his mansion on King's Row those many weeks ago.
Nirnadel maneuvered her horse alongside of Haedorial's mount. She brought out the book she was reading and gave it to him. "Kind Haedorial. Please read this book written by our brother and tell me what you might glean from it. If Braegil were interested in this Mithril Room, than it would be of some importance. I trust your skills as a lore master."
The bard was flattered. "Of course, Your Highness. I will talk with you later."
The bard had some learning in the mystic arts and had recognized such skill in the Princess. He would try an experiment. Slowing his horse, he fell back to the rear of the party, behind the foot soldiers. Well out of conversational range he focused his mental energy and whispered to Nirnadel, "Your Highness, I see that you are learned in my art." Observing her far ahead, he noticed her begin to look around.
She spotted him in the rear and returned the whisper from afar, "A gift from our late mother. We are still very unlearned." Haedorial smiled at her. She had a lot to learn and he had a lot to teach.
THE GATES OF FORNOST ERAIN
Tharbad was by far a larger city, but Fornost Erain was better protected. Walls and towers surrounded the city and sentries patrolled the battlements. Snow lay thick over the city and the wind blew with a howl, numbing the spirit. Fornost Erain was further north than Tharbad and the temperature reflected that. Araphor raised the banner of the King and the gates to the city were opened. Falathar, riding next to Nirnadel, 'hrmphed'. "So this is the capitol of Arthedain. How puny. Don't you think so Nirnadel?"
Anariel gawked. "Young man, do not be so familiar with Her Highness. Show some respect."
Chastised, he bowed. "Apologies, I meant no disrespect. Our city of Tharbad is by far the greater."
The party traveled on to the great citadel overlooking the rest of the city. The Arthedan court had turned out to welcome their King. The seer Malborn was also present and made a brief scowl, unnoticed by all except Haedorial. Araphor dismounted from his giant warhorse and walked over to Nirnadel. He put out his arms and lifted her from her saddle, setting her gently down on the snow. She blushed furiously, an event noted by Falathar. Araphor greeted his court. "Gracious courtiers and council members, We have returned safely, bringing the charming and beautiful Princess of Cardolan to visit our realm." The court ohh'd and ahh'd at the ravishing Princess in her pert riding suit.
Malborn knelt before the King. "Your Highness, forgive me, the great seer Ar-Elon. Ar-Elon was shown a false vision in the Palantír. This sometimes happens and even one as great as Ar-Elon can be mislead. Ar-Elon apologizes for allowing the King to be given the wrong impressions."
Araphor winced. "Pray, don't mention it Malborn, We forgive you. We do not know who you showed me, but it definitely was not this Princess." The warriors laughed, causing Malborn to grimace.
The group was then led into the Royal Hall and introduced to the Royal Family, followed by another feast of epic proportions. Later that evening, while the entertainers danced and juggled, Haedorial sat with Nirnadel. "Go ahead, Your Highness, try it," he urged.
She pinched up her face in concentration. "We cannot," she complained.
"You can do it," he countered excitedly. Suddenly, the roast pig on the center table began to oink and squeal.
Several patrons near the pig fell over in surprise. "This pig is still alive," they shouted.
Nirnadel and Haedorial exploded in laughter. The Princess rose and apologized. "We are sorry. It was just a sound effect. Please, continue eating," she offered before bursting into laughter again.
Malborn sat next to Falathar Girithlin, cutting his roast duck with his mithril knife. "How rude for the Princess to behave. She will not be a good match for the King. Perhaps someone like yourself would be better for her. I, Ar-Elon, see how you look at her. You could teach her. You would be the perfect couple."
Falathar nodded. "Yes, I think she likes me and not that King."
Malborn smiled at the seed he had planted. "Yes, you are the one and Ar-Elon will help."
Chapter 4
THE ROYAL HOLD AT FORNOST ERAIN – Narwain 1410It was now two weeks into Narwain, the first month of the year. The Princess and her entourage had been shown the wonders of the northern kingdom. A tour of the fortress city had been allowed so the party could stretch its legs about town. Arthedain revealed itself to be an ordered, cultured, and well-tended society. Song and poetry were highly revered in the fair city and Haedorial melded right into Arthedan society. Mercatur, however, was supremely uncomfortable being around the artisans and players of Fornost Erain.
During this time, the Princess quietly celebrated her seventeenth birthday. Her friends gathered to pay their respects and to wish her well. Araphor brought her a charming gift: a pair of enchanted earrings that belonged to his grandmother. She, in turn, got them from the elves of Imladris. Excitedly, Nirnadel put them on. The green stones set in ithildin accentuated the color of her eyes. She marveled at how they had no weight among other unusual qualities.
At the request of the seers, especially Malborn, a council meeting was called. The Royal Court was assembling in the hall to hear what the seers might have to say. The power of the these men was great, and their word was held in high regard. Araphor had arranged for Nirnadel to be present at the meeting despite their objections.
Araphor sat upon his crimson and gold throne, facing the court. He was dressed in Númenorean style robes cut to accentuate his powerful physique. His jet black hair was closely cut beneath the ancient crown of Arthedain. The King lifted up the Sceptre of Annúminas to signal the commencement of the meeting. The lords and ladies of the court bowed in respect and each announced their name and title. Nirnadel sat in a seat reserved for honored guests, while two Royal Guards, Kaile, and Anariel stood behind her. Kaile could barely contain her excitement. Only weeks before, she was but a simple assistant healer and a peasant girl before that. Now, she stood with sovereigns and heads of state.
The middle-aged Malborn approached the throne wearing his finest robes, "Your Highness, in the retreat from Annúminas last year, the Royal Library was abandoned. However, it has come to Ar-Elon's attention that the library has remained nearly intact. The tomes contained within are priceless, containing the vast history of our people from the days of Númenor. Also contained within are tomes detailing the wisdom of the ways of essence and channeling. There are spells and wards guarding these tomes, but they will not hold long against the enemy if he tries to recover them. These tomes would prove to be a powerful tool in the wrong hands."
Araphor nodded. Though a warrior by trade, the King knew the power of essence and channeling. He knew what these powers could do against his kingdom. The wards put on these tomes would prove difficult to defeat. Though placed in the rooms and halls of the library by Arthedan mages, none now living knew the nature of these incantations. All of those dedicated mages were slain by the Angûlion and his armies in the fall of the city.
"Very well, Malborn. We will contemplate your wise suggestion and give an answer tomorrow," spoke the King. Other minor business followed, such as the winter crop and spring planting, but this did not seem to interest Malborn. During the lively discussion of planting corn, Malborn slipped out of the Royal Hall. When the discussion had ended and the court was dismissed, Araphor spoke with an elderly female seer named Malwë. He motioned Nirnadel to join them and she approached.
"We would like your assistance in determining a course of action," the King told Malwë.
The old seer nodded. "Why of course, Your Highness. Might I suggest a look into the Palantír?"
The King smiled. "That is what I was hoping you would say," he said. Turning to Nirnadel, he added, "You are in for a treat."
Leaving behind the guards, Kaile, and Anariel, the three journeyed to the Royal Tower. Well armed guards came to attention as the King passed. They climbed the stairs to the pinnacle of the tower, where doors constructed of an odd metal barred their way. The seer held out her hand and a symbol on the door appeared, shining in a silver glow. The doors parted, revealing a circular room with glass windows. Situated in the center of the room were two dark crystal spheres mounted in marble pedestals. One sphere was much larger than the other; so large, that it could not be lifted by a single man. Nirnadel gasped. These were the fabled seeing stones that her father spoke of. He had viewed one once, in the tower of Amon Sûl. The mere existence of these stones was shrouded in secrecy. Only the very learned even knew of their presence in the city.
Malwë stood three feet to the east of the stone and focused her energy west. Araphor and Nirnadel stood behind her, gazing into the stone. The crystal was dark, but a flickering flame could be seen growing inside. An image appeared in the Palantír, showing the now desolate and ruined city of Annúminas. Nirnadel blinked. She could not believe that she was seeing visions from miles away. Soon, the Royal Library could be seen nearly intact, covered by snow. Orcs and trolls had little use for books. In excitement and awe, Nirnadel grasped Araphor by the arm. The scene slowly faded, bringing another of men and orcs fighting near the library. There was blood in the snow. That image also faded, followed by a scene involving an observatory. Several of the tomes could be seen on a desk inside of the observatory. The Palantír then went dark. Malwë glistened with perspiration. "I am not so young anymore. Even a few minutes leaves me drained," she declared.
Araphor stroked his chin. "The enemy is trying to recover the tomes. We must act now."
Struck with an idea, Nirnadel tugged the sleeve of the seer. "May I burden you for a small peek to the south?" she asked sweetly.
Malwë smiled warmly. "Why of course child. I occasionally sneak a look at my home far away." The seer moved to the north of the stone, looking south. Nirnadel stood beside her. The sphere glowed to life again.
Malwë motioned the Princess forward. "Focus on what you want to see," she instructed. Nirnadel concentrated, bringing forth an image of Thalion. Soldiers in armor drilled on the snowy grounds. Next, Tharbad was visible. Wagons and people moved about the icy streets. She then focused on the Bar Aran, where Nimhir could clearly be seen strolling the gardens. Finally, an image of the Houses of Healing appeared. Three patients were departing and waving to Firiel. Then the sphere went dark. Both Malwë and Nirnadel felt drained.
The Princess wiped her brow. "Thank you, kind seer. We feel better knowing our lands are safe." The seer then bowed and withdrew.
Nirnadel looked at Araphor. "We will ask our people to assist you. We understand how important these tomes are to your kingdom."
The King smiled. "Thank you. If... no when we recover the tomes, We shall grant Cardolan access to them. It will greatly enhance both of our lands."
The Princess gathered her entourage in the lounge near her bedchamber. The party sat around her, waiting to find out what was in store. "We have met with the King of Arthedain and have consulted with the Guardians of the Palantíri. There is a matter of importance to both of our kingdoms. When the beautiful city of Annúminas was razed by the Witch-King's forces last year, the Royal Library was left nearly intact. There are tomes contained within which hold great power. We have agreed to assist. We are willing to go personally, so We ask for your help," the Princess said, telling them of the task.
Ostomir raised his hand. "Your Highness, with all due respect, you cannot go on this journey. The risk is simply too great. There are still enemy forces lurking about."
Kaile agreed. "The kingdom cannot afford to lose you. I will go in your place and accept the risk." The rest of the entourage voiced their agreement. Nirnadel contemplated this for a minute.
"Brave friends, what shall We do then?" she asked. One by one, they all stood, saying they would go to uphold the Princess' honor. Nirnadel smiled. "You all put us to shame. We are truly blessed with such loyal followers."
Baranor, respected by all, stood and spoke, "Four Royal Guardsmen will remain behind to guard Her Highness. Anariel will stay also...no offense Anariel, but I think your adventuring days are over." Laughter erupted from the crowd and Anariel sighed with relief. The rest of us can begin preparations and coordinate with the Arthedain party."
Mercatur leaned over to Valandil and said quietly, "There's got to be some gold action there. You think?" Valandil chuckled softly, nodding.
Mallon Eketta, a devout man of great learning, was chosen to lead the Arthedan group. Aerin Eldanar, a woman of profound knowledge, was to be his assistant. Twelve other ohtari rhyn, or mounted warriors, would accompany him. The ohtari rhyn wore black chainmail shirts, cut to suit the ways of horse archery. For weapons, they wielded a longsword, shortsword, and two daggers. In times of war, they would also carry a lance. However, for the purpose of this expedition, they would forego the lance.
Mallon's family lived at Bareketta, a mansion along Lake Nenuial, north of Annúminas. House Eketta was considered to be one of the most powerful in Arthedain, second to House Tarma. Mallon's faith and wisdom were held in high regard by the Royal Council. Aerin belonged to House Eldanar, a family dispossessed when the forces of Angmar took their ancestral home, Barad Eldanar, in 1325. Aerin's father, Elenuil, was the lord of the castle and made numerous attempts to retake the ancient hold. Elenuil died brokenhearted only a few years ago, unable to regain the ancestral home.
In preparation for the journey, Mercatur led several of the Cardolan party members on a shopping spree to outfit themselves. Valandil, Ostomir, Annael, and Kaile wandered about the shop, looking at various accessories. Mercatur was like a kid in a candy shop as adventuring was his life. He tossed the others some backpacks to carry supplies over the desolate land west of Fornost Erain while Annael tried on some fur-lined boots. Down another aisle, Valandil grabbed several lengths of fine rope and a number of waterskins. A tent and compass were also added to the list. Annael picked up a lock pick kit, "I think we're going to need this," he commented. When finished, they took their booty to the counter and poured out an assortment of silver, bronze, and copper coins. The clerk took the coins and passed back a few coppers in change. Mercatur looked at the coin in his hand, eyeing the image of King Arveleg on one side and the seven stars on the other. "Hmmm, Arthedan copper," he mused as he bit the coin.
THE CASTLE OF BARAD MORKAI
The mutated sorcerer, Ulduin had come to Barad Morkai, one of the castles near the Angmar border. Sitting in the meeting room of the Great Hall, he commanded fear from the men and orcs seated around him. Ulduin was not above killing and eating an orc for no reason, just to shock his followers. Ulgarin entered and gracefully sat down. Her pretty smile could be seen beneath her veil, hiding the evil within her heart.
"Ulduin, I have met with our man in Arthedain. He has convinced the King to launch an expedition to Annúminas to recover the tomes. Our plan is to let them recover the books, exhausting themselves. When they emerge, we will take the tomes from them. This way, they face all the traps in the library. Our man indicated that at least twenty people will undertake the expedition; some from Arthedain and some from Cardolan. He also says the bratty Princess of Cardolan is in Fornost," Ulgarin told Ulduin.
The dog-faced monstrosity replied, "Good. I will lead the Sharkai and Urughâsh tribes while you lead the group that we have hired. We should dispense with them quite easily."
Ulgarin interjected, "Do not underestimate them. These men have proved to be unpredictable."
Ulduin laughed. "That is why I have invited some friends." He extended a clawed hand summoning two of his thanes: an eight foot tall, bloated cave troll with a huge enchanted war hammer and a ghastly Uruk chieftain with a saw-bladed scimitar.