Time
passed quickly in Minas Tirith. Soon,
Shimalya's sling had disappeared and she could be found in the grassy
courtyards with young boys who had finished their chores, fighting great
battles with their mighty sticks. Laughter rose as she taught them assaults and defenses. More than a few were curious how she had
learned to fight.
"Much
as you are now," she told them.
Sometimes
Legolas joined them, with the children shouting and crowding about to see the
elf. Other times he watched from the high
up branches of a shading tree. But
always, the same question conquered his mind.
"How
did she learn to fight with such skill?"
He
knew the answer was unimportant. After
all, hadn't Eowyn fought in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields with them? Other questions found him. Why the look of sadness so often on her face? Why did she look on Aragorn with such fear
and sorrow since she learned who he was?
Yet,
when he walked with her, felt her hand in his, touched the soft skin of her
cheek, these questions eluded him. What
need had he of these questions when she looked at him so? What need when he returned from hunting with
Aragorn to find her waiting for him? What need, when they stole away to the balcony to dance unnoticed by any
but the stars?
As
the sun began its downward journey to the east, Shimalya stole away toward the
tavern, a large cloak covering her identity from all who cared to glance her
way. Concealed in her shaking hand was
a message that had been delivered to her only a few moments before. She had broken the seal and read the words,
dread gripping her heart. And now, she
was entering the tavern where her presence had been demanded.
Without
looking around, she made her way to the darkest corner to where a dark haired
man was waiting for her, leaning back in his chair, his leg sitting leisurely
on the tabletop. A man she knew and
loathed to see here.
"Good
evening, Shi-"
"Hush. Say not my name." She stole a glance around the room, and seeing too many people
who would know her, kept her face covered. "What are you doing here?" she demanded in a hushed voice.
"I
am on an errand from Karak to see if your task is fulfilled. He was concerned to hear your escort had
been murdered." He sounded amused at
this.
"If
it were, you would have known 'ere you stepped foot in this place."
"Yes,
I can see that." He leaned forward, his
black eyes taking in the room and its inhabitants. "Yet, you know your people await your return?"
Shimalya
stared at him, her eyes blazing.
"Tell
Karak my task will be fulfilled. Now
get out of here and never let me see you here again." The man laughed as he threw several coins onto the table. Shimalya remained, staring into the
flickering light of the candle upon the table, as if meditating upon the
importance of the task. At last, she
moved quickly from her chair and across the room in long strides, and entered
the coming evening over Minas Tirith.
Wanas,
Keeper of Keys for Minas Tirith, knocked eagerly on the door of the King's
library. In his grasp, a small boy
cowered, attempting to hide himself behind the man's girth. Upon hearing permission to enter, Wanas
pushed the door open and bowed. King
Elessar sat before the fire with the elf and the dwarf, both of whom were like
king themselves in the country.
"My
Lord," said Wanas, bowed his head. "My
son, Glorin, has come with news which you must hear."
"Go
ahead," the king said, smiling encouragement at the terrified boy. But Glorin could find no voice until his
father squeezed his arm.
"Sire,"
he squeaked, but again, he looked around, terrified.
"Something
is amiss." Legolas looked at the
boy. He was one he had seen often in
the courtyard with Shimalya.
King
Elessar looked from the elf to the boy.
"Come,
Glorin." he said slowly. "What can it
be that strikes terror so deep in your heart?"
"I
was out, Sire," he said, wide-eyed. "I
was out in the city after dark, though I know I should not have been." His voice faltered. His father squeezed his arm harder, urging
him on. "A man in a cloak grabbed
me. He pulled me behind the barrels beside
the tannery, and he said- he said to beware, the king was to be murdered
tonight in his own bed."
Alarm
shone on the faces of his Companions, but if Elessar felt it, it was not
visible.
"Glorin,
who was the man?"
"I
know not. I saw no face. And he kept his voice low to disguise
it. But he was not tall. Perhaps not as much as Master Legolas, but
more so than Master Gimli. And he had
small hands." The boy was shaking. "I'm sorry, Sire. I thought you would think it a game if I told you. My father-"
"It's
all right, Glorin. You did the right
thing in telling us. You are brave
boy. Now go. Have you eaten yet? Go to
the kitchen and get some soup. Then, to
bed. Your work is done."
"Th-thank
you," stammered the boy, and bowing, he scurried from the room.
"Wanas,"
Elessar said when the boy was gone. "Find my Stewart and send him here. Inform the queen that she must take to other quarters tonight. I will come to her when I can. Keep some men with her at all times."
"And
what of your safety, my Lord?"
The
king conversed quietly with the elf in a tongue Wanas did not understand, then
said: "Give me four men. No more. Ones you know and trust. Bid them meet me here."
In
the hours before he normally retired, Aragorn set his trap, having his men
enter his sleeping chambers one at a time at long intervals. Legolas and Gimli entered first, as their
appearance drew attention. Then, more
men went in, waited, and left. Others
merely went in. Anyone watching could
not know whether anyone was still inside.
While
this charade was taking place, Aragorn went to Arwen to tell her what was
happening. He sat with her for some
time, then went to his room where the charade had long taken place and the trap
set. Putting out the candle, he quietly
took out his sword and stood quietly in the dark among his men, waiting.
In
the close quarters, Legolas drew his sword, waiting. Much time passed, and he could hear the strain of the steel in
the men's arms, an din the dark, he could see all but Aragorn and Gimli
relaxing, as if they thought this a hoax.
Presently,
the elf heard footsteps making their way toward the chamber. They stopped outside the door, pausing. The door opened without a creak. A shadow entered. He could see clearly the form of a woman. Soundlessly, she made her way to the bed
where Aragorn and Arwen normally slept. She hesitated, for what seemed like years, glancing in his direction as
if she knew someone was there, then thrust her sword into the mattress. Legolas leapt forward, drawing the tip of
his blade to the throat of the assassin. He heard the clang of steel being dropped to the ground.
As
the light of the room was rekindled, the elf was aghast at the sight before
him. Shimalya stood, her eyes cast to
the ground, with the tip of Legolas' blade at her throat. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet
his. Wordless questions and
unforgivable answers passed through their eyes as her hands were thrust behind
her back by a guard and tied. Legolas
said not a word as Shimalya, the woman he loved, and would-be assassin of his
friend, was lead from the room.
Legolas
stood wordlessly, staring at the doorway through which she had been led. He heard no words from anyone, and only
stirred when he felt Aragorn's hand on his shoulder.
"Legolas."
He
shrugged the hand away and stalked out.
Anger
broiled in the elf's heart. He had been
betrayed by the human he had allowed himself to love. He pushed past all who tried to speak to him in the corridors of
the fortress, hearing no words they spoke, and made his way through the winding
roads and seven gates to the stables. He found his horse and rode off into the blackness beyond the city.
The
cry of Elbereth! echoed through the city, and all who heard it were moved by the
despair in the voice. Few knew of the
Elf's hurt, and fewer still of the meaning of the cry. Arwen wept in her husband's arms for him,
for Aragorn had told her the events of the night. And Shimalya, alone in her cell with a small window to admit the cry,
wept bitterly in her heart. She
remembered, as he had told her, Elbereth was called on in moments of deepest
darkness and despair, and she knew how deeply she had wounded Legolas.
Many
hours later, Shimalya was led in bondage into a room. Her eyes were red and swollen from the tears of the passing
night. Before her, at a long table, sat
King Elessar, his queen, the elf, Arwen, and many of his men. One seat was left empty.
"Mistress
Shimalya, stranger to these lands," a man spoke before her, "you are hereby
found guilty of the attempted assass-"
The
door to the room banged open. All sound
fell silent as Legolas strode across the room and sat in the empty chair. He stared fixedly at the woman who would not
raise her eyes to meet his."
"Assassination,"
the man continued, "of King Elessar, Lord of Gondor. You were caught in the act, for which the penalty is death. What have you to say?"
"I
beg to speak to the king in private," she answered.
"You
will find no clemency in private words!" Legolas found himself crying out,
rising to his feet.
"I
speak not of clemency, nor do I seek it." She did not look at him as she spoke, but looked to the king. "I ask only for a moment of the King's time
before my punishment."
"Legolas,
havo dad," Aragorn told him gently and considered silently for a moment the
woman's request, then consented.
"I
will grant your request, but under guard. Know, Mistress Shimalya, that a repeated action of last night will bring
instant retaliation."
Shimalya
was led into a connecting room by a guard, followed by Aragorn.
When
the door was closed, Arwen laid her hand over Legolas'.
"Legolas,
I have never seen you act so."
"I
have never seen such an act," was his answer.
"You
are blinded by your feeling for the woman. You do not see what any elf would notice about her. This woman is tormented, and had been since
she entered the city."
"She
tried to murder the friend of the elf who loves her. That is enough for torment."
"No,"
Arwen sighed. "I saw it about her before
she knew the king and Aragorn were the same. It is the torment of an act, which should not be committed. An act of
desperation. I believe there is more to
this woman that we have seen."
Arwen
fell silent, allowing her words to sink into the mind of the young elf. He sat perfectly still, staring a the wall
on the far side of the room, betraying no emotion, but to Arwen, who saw the
great anger and betrayal hanging over him.
Finally,
Aragorn returned to his seat, followed by Shimalya a and her guards.
"Mistress
Shimalya, I bid you speak aloud of what you have told me in private."
The
woman looked to the ground as she spoke.
"My
name is Shimalya, daughter of warrior, Donuval. As his only living blood, I was trained in the art of weaponry
and war, so the skills of my family would not be lost. After my father's death, I was taken in by
his friend, Theus of Torrech. As one of
few women skilled in war, I was given the task of protecting his wife and
daughter, as I could be with them when no guard could. We had fallen on hard times in the last
harvest. Our fields yielded no food,
and my people became distraught. Then a
stranger entered our lands. This man
claimed to be one of the protector's of Hobbiton, and wanted to help us restore
our land. He quickly took control of
our people. We became like slaves to
him and the men he brought with him. When he learned I was a warrior in woman's
guise, he called me into Theus's home, now his, and said to me that only the
death of the Ruler of Gondor would buy their safety. I came here in the hope that my act would free them. In his chamber, I asked the King to send
help to my people, and release them from these men."
"You
came here openly to commit murder to help your people?" Legolas asked.
"I
traveled here in disguise," she answered, meeting his fierce gaze. "I was to commit my act, then escape
unsuspected as a woman. But in
traveling here, my escort was destroyed, and my disguise with it. I continued my journey here with you and
Master Gimli, but you both knew what I looked like. I needed to save my people, so I acted openly, hoping that in my
own capture and death, my people would be freed."
"Why
didn't you simply ask for help in the first place?"
"I
thought on that, but what king would send his men to a far-off town, a land
that is not his own, to save people he has never known? What king would even take the time to listen
to a woman while she told the tale, were she not highborn or on trial?"
The
room fell silent as the occupants mulled the story over in their minds, but the
elf could not take his eyes from her. He looked on her with new eyes, seeing her as Arwen had. He saw the desperation in her.
'She
has fooled you, my friend,' he heard in Arwen's voice.
'No,
I see her plainly now.'
'As
plainly as she saw you.'
'Saw?'
'She
entered a room she had never seen before, without light, and found the bed,
making no sound. Did she even try
attempt to escape?'
'No. She knew we were there.'
'She
knew you were there.'
Suddenly,
all became clear before him. Most men
would not take counsel of a woman. She
did not believe Aragorn would. Shimalya
had entered the room, knowing she would be captured. It had been she who warned the boy of the attempt.
"You
knew Aragorn was not in his bed when you entered. You knew we were there, didn't you?" he whispered, but his voice
seemed to echo in the silence of the room.
Her
eyes met his in answer. She did.
Finally,
Aragorn spoke again. "I shall send men
to Torrech with Mistress Shimalya, to free her people. If it is found that she has lied in this
room, she will be put to death, as is the punishment. If not, she will remain there, free. Take her back to her cell. The party will leave at
first light."
"I
will accompany," Legolas announced without raising his eyes. His voice held no pride, but anger.
"I
do not ask this of you," Aragorn told him.
"I
ask it of myself. If what this woman
says is true, I will help to free her friends. If it proves false," he paused, as if finding the right words. "If it proves false, her execution will be
swift."
