Chapter 15
Two dwarves, an elf and a maiden made their way up the mountainside with the elf leading the way. The sun had risen a little by this time and shone palely on their backs.
"How much further," asked Mithlhach.
"We shall get to it soon," replied Lindil, "Have patience, child."
"I have patience," she said, "It is time I am running short of."
"You still have not told us why," complained Sarin.
Corin would have repeated this statement with greater emphasis but his attention was hitherto focused on the far away figure of Merin driving the cart with Alda Into trotting happily beside it on a rope.
"Why did you let that fool off on his own?" asked Corin.
"He can handle the horses perfectly well," said Mithlhach, "Need I remind you that you were the one who insisted on coming with me. If you have now decided you would be better off with Merin, do not hesitate to join him."
Corin glared at her, gave one last glance at Merin and then turned to Lindil to ask gruffly how long it would take. They were making for a cave that Lindil assured them could be accessed from several openings in the mountainside. The closest opening was a short climb, he had told them, but it seemed hours before they caught a glimpse of it. Mithlhach peered down into the darkness of the cave for only a moment before dropping herself into it. She landed on her feet and assured the dwarves that it was not such a long drop after all. She had cheered up somewhat as she led them through the tunnels. Something in the air outside and the sudden beaming of the sun just before she entered the cave dispelled her anxiety. She quickly lit the lantern Sarin passed down to her and waited for them to follow.
"Now, will you tell us what are doing here and why Merin is driving the cart around the mountains while we travel through them?" asked Sarin.
"A friend of mine is in trouble here," said Mithlhach, "I need your help. And as the horses and the pony cannot come through the mountains with us, I need Merin to meet us at the other side where, I trust, is the way out to Dol Amroth."
"A fight, is it!" said Corin with delight.
"We shall see," replied Mithlhach and her next words were directed at Lindil, "How is it you know of these tunnels?"
"I have lived far longer than you can guess," said the elf with a smile, "And I have not spent that time idle."
"Then you have seen Dol Amroth?"
"Not for a long while, child. It must have changed somewhat since last I beheld it."
"It never changes," said Mithlhach, not without a touch of bitterness.
They came to the mouth of two tunnels and waited for her to choose one. It did not take her long to decide and soon they were walking again. As they walked, Mithlhach exchanged stories with Lindil, comparing the events of her relatively short life to his. There were a few places they both had been though at different times and Mithlhach found herself wishing she had known him then. They were almost at her journey's end and soon Lindil would leave and make his way to the havens. It struck her forcefully that this could very well be the last conversation she would ever have with him. She felt a strange lump rise to her throat so she took a draught from her flask. She was about to speak again when he silenced her.
Soon, she too heard it. The steady pacing of booted feet upon the stone floor. They edged forward slowly, keeping the lamp far behind so that the light of it would not betray them. Just ahead stood a man in mail, holding a spear and watching between annoyance and amusement, the pacing of another. The man who paced stopped suddenly as if he had heard a sound. Lindil recognised the man standing as Belegore, one of the men who were to stand guard over Ohtar.
"We must stop him," said the man who paced, in the voice of one who had repeated himself so many times that his words no longer held any meaning for him.
Belegore ignored him now and began examining the point of his spear, glad that the other had finally stopped pacing He understood why the other man was so anxious but if he would only heed Ohtar's warnings he would not need to be there under duress.
"You have heard all Ohtar has to say," said Belegore, "Still you do not come to his side at your own will. It would have been better for you had you done so, Nendur."
Nendur looked up from his agitated scrutiny of the ground and stood before Belegore with his back towards the tunnel where Lindil, Mithlhach and the dwarves were hiding. Belegore, however, did not look at him, even when he spoke.
"Do you expect me to commit treason of my own free will?" said Nendur, "Were it not for the threat Ohtar and you hold over the lives of my family, I would never have agreed to this. That is the son of our prince yonder. We are meant to protect him, not..."
He seemed unable to go on and instead resumed his pacing. Lindil saw Mithlhach's eyes flash in the darkness when the prince was mentioned but she made no movement. Belegore turned around and looked down the tunnel Nendur had gestured to.
He was just considering taking out his pipe when he heard a strange thump and turned to see Nendur crumple to the ground. Mithlhach had hit him on the back of the head with the hilt of her sword. Belegore brought forth his spear at once but Mithlhach blocked his blows with her own sword. With a twist of her wrist she caused the spear to fly from Belegore's hands but he quickly drew his own short sword.
In the meanwhile, Sarin and Lindil had tied up Nendur who was still unconscious, while Corin watched from the shadows for the best time to strike Belegore. As Mithlhach fought him, she forced him to move around so that he had his back to Corin, thus giving the dwarf a chance to knock him unconscious. But Belegore dodged the blow and swung his sword without looking behind him to see what he fought. The blade missed Corin's head by inches, knocking off his hood, and came back round for Mithlhach.
"Fell sorceress," muttered Belegore, "Why do you return as a curse to your people? We shall destroy you!"
Mithlhach looked into the hardness of his orc-like eyes and gave up her attempt to subdue him without hurting him overmuch. She kicked his sword from his hand and ran her sword through his chest. He looked down at the black blade in surprise as if he did not believe it was there, protruding from his chest. Mithlhach withdrew her blade and wiped it clean of blood with the end of her cloak.
"Well," she said, watching Belegore fall, "Let us hope the others are just as easily overcome."
The others stepped over the dead body, as it lay in a fast growing pool of blood, and followed Mithlhach down the tunnel Nendur had looked to earlier. They soon found themselves before three tunnel openings. Corin took the left while Sarin took the right. Mithlhach took the middle and asked Lindil to go with her. There were no guards there but through a small hole in the ground Mithlhach finally found what she was looking for.
Ohtar stood in the centre of the cave below, whip in hand. He was alone it seemed. Suddenly, the sound of fighting echoing through the tunnels made him look about him but he did not look up. The hole was far too small for any man to slip through. He would never expect anyone to come from it.
However, it was just the right size for Mithlhach. She waited till his back was turned before climbing into the hole, dropping lightly to her feet and drawing her sword. The ring of steel sliding from its sheath caused Ohtar to turn and look at her. He seemed not surprised to see her there. He simply smiled in his friendly way and drew his own sword.
"She has come, just as I had told you she would," he said, not looking away from her.
From the corner of her eye she saw a still figure to the side that seemed to sway gently. But she did not dare to turn her gaze from Ohtar
"It seems he is indisposed and cannot reply," said Ohtar, mockingly.
Mithlhach drew towards him angrily and he took a step back. Lindil watched no longer from above. He hurriedly searched for another way to the cave. He knew it was close but he doubted it was close enough. He could hear the dwarves fighting and Corin's gleeful war cries as he ran.
As Ohtar fought Mithlhach he felt himself being forced ever backward and the sudden smile on her face unnerved him. It was not long before he knew the cause of it. The torches stuck in the ground around Amrothos were still burning strongly and he was getting pushed between two of them. Before he realised what was happening the flames suddenly grew a hundred fold and enveloped him from both sides. He dropped his sword in shock and cried out in pain. The flames died down about him but now he was on fire himself. He shed his cloak but to no avail. Mithlhach did not even bother to kill him now that she had the chance. She would just let him burn, Ohtar knew that. Lindil appeared in the doorway and Ohtar acted without thinking. He ran towards the elf and threw his arms about him. If he was to die he would kill Mithlhach's friend along with him. A small strong hand caught his shoulder and tried to drag him from Lindil but he would not go. A sudden sharp pain in his side made him let go and a second stab, this time through his heart, relieved him from the fiery pain forever.
Mithlhach held a hand over Lindil and the few flames that had begun to grow on his clothes shrank and vanished. She used Ohtar's half burnt cloak to clean her sword. She had killed the man who was to be tried for killing her. Now she would be tried for killing him! The thought made her chuckle as she helped Lindil up. Then she saw the swaying figure and the smile left her lips.
It was Amrothos. His eyes were closed and he seemed still so they could not tell immediately if he was alive or dead. His wrists were shackled and chained to the ceiling from which he hung and blood dripped from his toes. As his body turned in the firelight Mithlhach saw the bloody marks of a cruel whip sliced across his bare back. She went to him quickly as Lindil got to the chains and began to unwind them to let him down. Mithlhach stayed with Amrothos and spoke his name softly but he did not awake. His head lolled about as the chains let him down and Mithlhach put an arm under his to hold him up. She touched his cheek with her other hand and looked into his face. Her own face was emotionless.
"He is not dead," she said, undoing the shackles around his reddened wrists, "Come, we must get him out of this place."
Lindil helped her carry Amrothos out of the cave and into the open where they could tend his wounds.
The sun had not yet set when they stepped out but her light was red and fading. Sarin and Corin were already outside waiting for them. They had dragged a few of the unconscious men outside. A surprise met Mithlhach's eyes although she did not betray any such emotion. Melfalas was there with a group of other knights.
He was just telling them to go inside to bring out the others when he saw Mithlhach and Lindil carrying Amrothos. Merin had met him on this side of the mountains and told him the situation so he was not in the least surprised to see them.
Amrothos was soon taken from them and lain down to be tended while Mithlhach explained to Melfalas what had happened. As she spoke she took off her gauntlets and asked him to pour water over her hands so that she could wash the blood from them.
He expressed obvious disapproval at her amusement over Ohtar's death and when she pointed out the irony of it he was still unmoved and unimpressed.
"But it is not for me to judge you," he said, "That matter is to be left for the prince."
He spoke with such an air of certainty that she would be punished for killing Ohtar that she would have very much enjoyed another sword fight with him but Lindil smiled at her and shook his head so she gave up the idea. He then called her and she followed him to where Amrothos lay, away from the others. Lindil motioned for those tending him to leave.
"He is beginning to awaken," said Lindil, "Corin is hurt, and I must go tend to him."
As Lindil walked away, Amrothos opened his eyes and saw Mithlhach looking down at him.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
Amrothos sat up and held his head.
"Dizzy," he said.
Looking up he smiled faintly and his eyes glowed.
"You do not know what joy it brings me to see you thus, alive," he said.
"I could say the very same of you," she replied.
"How do you fare?"
"Very well."
"I am pleased to hear it. What have you been doing all these years?"
"Too many things to tell you in one day."
"What's this?" he said of a sudden, for he saw a scar along Mithlhach's arm.
"We have had a war, dear friend," she said, "As you and Himthol fought here in Gondor, I too fought, though in Dale."
She noticed his parched lips and gave him her flask to drink from. As he did so, she asked him why Ohtar had taken him captive. Amrothos seemed loth to reply but after some prompting he finally told her that it was for the ring.
"You fool!" she said, not harshly, "For a ring you suffered so. Why?"
"It was the least I could do. I have failed you and your brother in every other way. At least your ring is not lost; I know how dear to you it is."
Mithlhach did not think he really knew. Whatever its value, it was not worth his pain but she did not wish to say so. She did not want him to feel as though he had suffered for nothing.
"I know not how to thank you," she said.
She took his hand but he withdrew it and looked away.
"Where is my ring?" she asked.
"Safe," replied Amrothos, "In your brother's tomb."
