Chapter 14
Loss and confusion enfolded Mithlach's dreams though when she awoke she knew not what she had seen to have caused it. A troubled fluttering remained in her heart when her eyes opened and her brow was furrowed. The sun had not yet risen so she climbed out of her window and onto the tiled roof to wait for it. Pale stars still twinkled overhead as a soft light began to grow in the east. Slowly the sun appeared, red like the eye of a dragon but surrounded by soft clouds, stained by its colour, making it appear more like the eye of a far gentler beast. Mithlach waited for that warmth in her heart that came every time she saw the sun, as though she were meeting again a dear friend.
But her light did not comfort Mithlach this time. She, the sun, stared down at the world, soaking the white city with rays that made it blush. She bathed all with her warmth but she did not seem to see Mithlach, sitting there alone on a rooftop. It made Mithlach feel strangely invisible as though she was indeed the spirit the dwarves had thought her to be. And yet she felt exposed. For without the distant sun watching over her she felt vulnerable. It was as though a shield was dropping from about her and it had not started to drop today. Nay, it had been falling gradually ever since Ohtar had taken from her the ring.
A light rain began to fall, rousing Mithlach from the vengeful thoughts that had began to invade her mind. She climbed back down to her window and into her room. She collected her things and clasped her belt around her waist. Having her sword with her made her heart feel stronger and she took it out of its sheath for a closer look. Running her finger across the flatness of the blade she smoothed out the faint scratches till it shone like the surface of still water. Satisfied that it was now perfect she put it back in its sheath, threw her cloak about her shoulders, picked up her bag and went down for breakfast.
Lindil and the dwarves sat about a table looking very displeased. It was not long after Mithlach joined them that she found out the reason why. The dwarves still wished to travel to Dol Amroth to bring Ohtar to justice and they did not want Lindil with them.
"If anybody is to slay Ohtar," said Mithlach, "It shall be me."
"Nobody is to slay anybody," said Lindil, "As I have been trying to explain to your friends. Therefore, there is no cause for them to travel with us much further."
"Us?" said Corin, "Why do you go to Dol Amroth?"
"He goes because I wish it," said Mithlach, "He is as a brother to me and no brother would leave his sister mid-journey."
"No, indeed," said Merin.
"We must leave as soon as we are able," said Mithlach, "Therefore, after breakfast I shall purchase horses for Lindil and I while you dwarves can come, if you wish, in your cart."
"You must not purchase me a horse," said Lindil, "I need it not."
"Then how are you to come with us and then return later to the Havens?"
"I can find my way back," he replied, "And I am to leave these lands, where is the wisdom in acquiring a horse for me?"
A man, who had entered the Inn earlier under Mithlach's watchful eye, had finished his talk with the Innkeeper and was now approaching her table. She did not draw her sword for she recognised him. He seemed rather nervous as he greeted her.
"Are you the maiden Hiriluin?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied to Lindil's surprise, "You come from Cair Andros, do you not?"
"That I do. I come bearing a gift from Adugristwen?"
"Gift?"
"It awaits you outside. 'A fine gift for any halfling such as yourself'," he said adding hastily with a suppressed smile, "The maiden's words, not mine. The message was to accompany the gift."
Mithlach and the others followed him outside. As they did so Lindil drew close to Mithlach.
"Hiriluin," he whispered, "lady blue, is that your true name?"
Mithlach smiled and shook her head. She laughed when she saw what waited for her outside the Inn and told the man from Cair Andros that it was indeed a fine gift for any halfling and much appreciated. Looking scornfully at the grey clouds above and shaking the light rain drops from his mane stood Alta Indo. Seeing a familiar face he came towards Mithlach and whinnied in complaint.
"Do not worry," she told the pony, "The rain will let up soon."
The messenger bid them all a hurried farewell before mounting his own horse and galloping back to the island. Mithlach fastened her bag on the pony while the dwarves brought their own horse and cart from the stables. Their cart was quite large and laden with many supplies. They all bundled into it and then watched Lindil expectantly. Mithlach looked at him too.
"Well," she said, "A horse may have carried us both but this poor pony could never take our combined weight."
"He can come with us in the cart," piped up Merin.
His brother glared at him and Corin went as far as to knock his hood off his head but for the first time in his life, Merin did not quell under their stares. Standing his ground, Merin made room for Lindil in the cart.
"Then everything is settled," said Mithlach, "Let us depart immediately."
Mounting the pony she set it to a trot with the cart following behind. Soon they had passed the crossings of Erui and were making their way towards Pelargir in the west. The Sirith River blocked their path to Dol Amroth and from Pelargir was the only bridge to cross it. As they journeyed on, the sweet smell of moist soil rose into the air for the rain fell lightly another hour before stopping altogether. The wind was too wild for the rain to last long and soon the clouds above began to thin out and fly away. Mithlach looked ever and anon at the sky above, hoping for the reassuring glimpse of the sun. But grey clouds hid away the blue and would not let the sun beam down upon the earth.
Lindil told the dwarves of the happenings since Mithlach had left Erebor and as he did so they seemed less hostile towards him. They could not ignore the service he had rendered her or the important part he played in her survival. Still, they did not wholly believe his version of the events and constantly questioned Mithlach for verification.
They arrived at Pelargir as stars filled the sky. There, they settled for the night instead of crossing the bridge. The people of Pelargir were not over friendly with strangers and seemed unlikely to welcome them. So in the end they spent the night, not in an Inn but out under a tree. Mithlach, as was her wont, slept in its branches while the dwarves slept huddled against it and Lindil lay a little away so that his view of the stars was not hindered by the trees leaves.
Morning came and the bridge was crossed. From then on they travelled at a faster pace. There was an urgency about Mithlach and Lindil felt something akin to the cloud of anxiety that had descended on them on their way to the misty mountains. Mithlach was worried, this was clear to him. Though had he not been with her so long, he would not have known it to look at her. What worried her was a mystery, perhaps even to herself. She kept glancing up at the sky and several times he saw her touch her finger as though twisting an invisible ring around it. The anxiety emanated from her as it had before but to a far lesser degree, else Lindil had perceived it sooner than he had before.
By nightfall they had reached Linhir where the rivers Gilrain and Serni met and flowed on together to the sea. They rested the night there and awoke early the next morning to continue their hasty journey.
Finally, the mountains appeared and as they neared them the sky grew dark. Mithlach stared at them for a moment before suddenly spurring the pony to a frantic gallop, leaving the cart and the road behind her.
Lindil was waiting for her to do so for he had felt her anxiety grow. He had Sarin ready to charge after her when the time came. The time had come and the cart hurried after her, drawn by the two horses of Dale.
For hours they galloped on without pause until the pony and the horses were too fatigued to go further. But Mithlach would not stop. She dismounted and ran the rest of the way at least as far as she could go until she fell to her knees herself, exhausted, as night fell about her.
After a rest, the others caught up with her and she got onto the pony again to speed towards the mountains. This time the others did not fall behind. When they reached the stone walls of Dor-en-Ernil, dawn was not far behind them. Mithlach climbed up the stone walls and pressed her hands against it.
"There are flames in these mountains," she said, "How can there be flames?"
She paused as if listening and Lindil came and stood beside her. He saw now the worry in her eyes and it shocked him for he had never seen her like this before. Her eyes glowed in the darkness like red-hot ashy coals.
"Small flames," she said, "Scattered but burning strongly. They must be torches."
She closed her eyes. When she opened them the glow was gone.
"We must get in somehow," she said.
She looked quickly about for any opening or cave but there was none.
"Why?" asked Lindil.
*******
Amrothos opened his eyes but his vision was still unclear. His arms ached horribly and he could not feel the ground beneath his feet. He went to wipe the sweat from his brow but his hands were restrained above him. The feeling of cold steel against his wrists told him why he could not move them. Looking up he saw that the shackles binding his hands were on a chain. It went through a ring in the ceiling and then went down again to be secured to a hook on the wall. It left him hanging just above the ground.
He soon realised that it was the pain of the shackles biting into his skin that had awoken him. He felt a drop of warm blood roll down his arm. Touching the ground with his toes he gave the chain a sharp tug. It only served to give him more pain but he tried again and again until the drop of blood became a trickle and he had to give up. The chain could not be broken.
He looked about him and saw that he was in a cave. A few torches were stuck in the ground about him but beyond them he could see nothing. Who would do this to him? And why? He could not understand it. He then recalled the knight who had betrayed a strange interest in Mithlach's ring yet he could not believe that he would resort to this.
Since that day, Amrothos had kept the ring hidden away in secret. He felt it important to keep it safe for its owner had fought so hard to keep it out of Ohtar's hands. There was surely some reason why she would do so. He would not be honouring her memory were he to let Ohtar have it. It seemed a long time later that he heard the voice of the knight echoing towards him. The knight came in but did not look at Amrothos.
"He is here," he said.
Another man entered the circle of light about Amrothos. It was as he had thought. Ohtar.
"Where have you put the ring, Amrothos?" asked Ohtar.
"I shall not tell you," Amrothos replied.
"Do you not understand how dangerous it is?"
"It is not dangerous and neither was she."
"You are under her spell! Can you not realise this? Fight it, Amrothos!"
Amrothos shook his head.
"You are so very wrong," said Amrothos, "I wish there was a way for me to make that clear to you."
"Let me have the ring! If you do not think it dangerous why do you keep it from me?"
"Why do you want it?"
"It must be destroyed."
"You have killed her. She, who was no threat to you alive. What threat is she to you now that she is dead? Do you fear she shall come again to life to exact revenge?"
"I do not fear it, it has already occurred."
"How can that be?" asked Amrothos, sceptically.
"The ring lives, therefore, she lives. Now tell me where it is."
"If she lives, then it is in her hands only that I shall place it."
"Not if you are dead."
"If you kill me you shall never know where it is."
"Perhaps some lashings will persuade you better than my words."
"Nothing will persuade me."
Ohtar was not convinced.
"You know it pains me to do this, old friend," said Ohtar, picking up a whip from the shadows, "But if this is the way to save you from her evil spells, so be it."
