Chapter 1 - A Helping Hand 108 years after the fall of Númenor late SA3428
In the century since the signing of the historic pact between the two nations of men there had been relatively few changes. The two kingdoms had grown in size and population until they were both larger and more powerful than any human realm before them. The elves of Gil-Galad continued their long lives in the shelter of the land of Lindon. However in the rest of the world, evil had woken again. It had been slowly building from the moment of the fall of Númenor and now orcs and other creatures started to reappear and became more aggressive. For the first time in more than a thousand years there was large scale incursion from Mordor into the realm of Gondor and its allies. The men of the east and south had been wooed by the darklord into aiding him and now, vast armies were reported to be collecting in Mordor. The ringwraiths, strengthened by the rise in their master's power again rose to terrorise the world.
To celebrate ninety five years of peace between the two races, a special envoy was sent from Imladris to Annúminnas. Lord Elrond was the regent of Eregion after the wars of that land and he governed the affairs of his land with wisdom and skill. Lord Elrond sent his most trusted negotiator and ambassador, Tiraldórë to the city of Elendil. Tiraldórë was a tall and thin elf who had long black hair and who was famous for having forced the dwarves of Khazard-Dûm to concede on the issue of passage through the mines. He was over nineteen hundred years old and had been only young by elven standards in the wars but had joined the fight anyway and had fought well and been noticed for his inspiring courage. After the war he had laid aside the sword and taken up the quill to become the ambassador to the many human realms. When Elendil had foundered his city, it was Tiraldórë who had been sent above all others to be a permanent resident of the city. Tiraldórë was a fairly easy-going elf who shared a liking and respect for men unlike many of his kin. It was a shorter distance to Lindon from the capital of the northern realm but since Elrond was the regent of all of the lands outside of Lindon, that was where the messages went to. It was a distance of four hundred and fifty miles and one that did not have to be covered often by Tiraldórë.
The city of Annúminnas was built along the shore of the lake and was stretched around the rim as the land was very scarce. It had been chosen though because there was only one entrance to the lake valley it was built in. A large palace of grey stone was set on the south western corner of the city, the place with the most land. It was in this palace that Tiraldórë was meeting with the king of men and his recently promoted new second in command. The last Archduke of Annúminnas had died of a heart attack at the age of over one hundred and sixty. Tiraldórë knew he would meet the new man today and hoped he had the tact to be the Archduke. It had come down to the four greatest of the subordinates of Elendil. Now, their meeting done and ties renewed the king and the elf walked along the light, airy passageways of the palace by the lake. The elf had a good deal of respect for the king of men and the feeling was mutual because the king seemed to enjoy having the subtle ambassador around. Being the only elf that most of the people of this city had seen was a strange experience for the people would just stare at him as he walked on about his business.
Tiraldórë was brought back to reality by a friendly hand across his shoulder. The elf jumped slightly and realised he had missed something the king had said.
"I am sorry lord king. Could you please repeat?" The king laughed. He was a tall man, taller than almost any man or Eldar and although he was fierce in battle he was noble and beloved by his people. A king with authority but not governed by a need to show it without cause. He had once had black hair that flowed down to his shoulders. Now, as time passed his hair was greying and the trimmed beard about his mouth was almost silver.
"I asked you my friend what troubles you? Something worries you I can see it in your eyes."
"You are indeed observant lord king." Tiraldórë could see no way out of this question so he settled for the truth.
"I am concerned about the growing shadow. Orcs have been sighted over the mountains for the first time in centuries."
The king nodded thoughtfully. "You are right. It is no longer an easy journey or a safe one." He looked in thought over the calm lake. "Mid-winter approaches my friend. I have no duties for you here and soon the snow will block passages to this city. Go home, back to Imladris for a while. I know that you desire it, I see it in your eyes."
"I thank you lord king. I am sorry if I have been distracted but I would like to go back to Imladris, even for a while then."
"Excellent my friend." The king said. "I have a message for Lord Elrond that you can take with you." He looked over his city again. "Last month, two villages were burned by orcs and escaped before we could catch them. The roads become treacherous and that is why I am sending you with two of my bodyguards."
The elf looked surprised. "My king, I thank you but I would not have you put yourself out over me." Elendil simply smiled and took his elbow, leading him down to a large chamber.
"I insist my friend. I would hate to send you alone, only to hear of your death in the wilderness."
"Very well lord king." The elf finally conceded. It was a long way and company would be appreciated.
"Good, that is settled." The old king said and opened a door into a large chamber. "There is one last thing I would do before you leave. The new Archduke of Annúminnas is here and wished to meet you."
"I should be honoured." Tiraldórë said and looked down at his simple clothes he wore for day to day life. Elendil say the look and smiled.
"My friend, you know I do not stand on ceremony and nor does he. I have sent servants up to ready horses and since you pack light it should be easy for them to prepare a mount for you."
The elf nodded and walked into the high chamber which had windows on both sides. The winter sun filtered through the windows and a cool breeze blew from the north.
There was two men waiting in the hall. The sun light obscured them so that even the keen eyes of the elf could not make any of their features. They bowed as the king entered with the elf ambassador to his right. The two men both had black hair which showed in the light and wore cloaks of excellent design. The man who was obviously the Archduke was a very tall man with a blue cloak with a scarlet lining. The man to his left had a grey cloak and looked like a less forceful man. As they rose, their faces could clearly be seen.
"Tiraldórë my friend, meet Antunius Maelius, Archduke of Annúminnas." The man smiled and held out a hand.
The Archduke was as tall as his king and seemed as much a warrior as his lord. He had a handsome face which was longer than that of most men. He had grey eyes like mist over the sea. He was clean shaven and carried himself with a dignity and honour that was evident to all. Despite this he was not a pompous or arrogant man. He was a good judge of character and led by example. He wore a sword by his side which seemed centuries old. He had been on one of the four ships that Elendil had landed at Lindon. Though only a child he had been recognised as both a gifted soldier and scholar. Of pure Númenorian blood and a resolute humility he was the perfect choice for being the Archduke. While not the most senior man in the army or nobility, he had been chosen because he had the will and ambition to lead.
The man next to him was altogether more unassuming. A plain grey tunic and cloak showed him as a humble man. A moustache and short black hair continued this impression that an observer would have. He had blue-green eyes and a nose that was slightly off centre, obviously broken one time in the past.
"And this man here is Kerinon Sirandel, the Baron of Kerost. He takes over that now that Antunius here has been elevated to glory." The king continued. He smiled at the last words and the Archduke smiled at the elf and clasped his hand.
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I hope that in time we may become friends." The voice was impassioned. He looked around conspiratorially and then back to the elf.
"The king did not really have any choice after he almost got himself killed a couple of years back. I happened to be there to save him."
"And he will never let me forget it." Elendil boomed happily and waved forward the Baron who smiled a good deal less genuinely then the Archduke. He murmured a polite introduction without looking the Eldar in the eyes. Elendil shrugged to suggest it was nothing personal, just a character trait of the Baron.
"Come my friend, it is best to leave before nightfall; the paths in the mountains are dangerous at night." The king said and led the elf away. When they were walking down to the stables the king glanced to him.
"Pay no heed to Kerinon. He is a good man but he comes from my northernmost province. He has never seen an elf before. I am sure he will get to know you in time."
"I used to get nervous when I was young." The elf said wistfully and the king smiled and nodded to the elf's brown mare. Two soldiers straightened up. They wore light armour under green cloaks like the elf and carried only a sword each. Their hope was in speed and not fighting.
"You two are to escort the ambassador here to Imladris. You may stay for as long as Lord Elrond sees fit and then return with the next message. Understand?" The men saluted, right fist over the heart. "Good, follow Ambassador Tiraldórë's orders and you should be in Imladris in a month." The men bowed and the king handed over a sealed message which the elf took. The two escorts seemed nervous for some reason and Tiraldórë thought it best to talk to them for a few moments. At least they might know each other better for the journey.
He sat down on a bench by the stables and motioned the two men over. The sat nervously to each side of the ambassador. They were staring at him but trying to conceal their interest. The elf smiled.
"We have a few minutes before my possessions are ready. Tell me of yourselves; it makes for a better journey if we know each other a little more than simply ambassador and escort."
The two men nodded cautiously. Both were of slightly more than average height with black hair and clean shaven faces. They looked about thirty and the elf knew that although he more than sixty times older than they he looked younger then them. It was a sobering thought.
"I am Ruan and that is Melin. We are brothers from the northern province of Kerost. We joined the bodyguard of the Baron after our parents were killed in a rock fall." Ruan shifted uncomfortably but tried to maintain eye contact with the elf.
"You see, that was not difficult. As you know, I am Tiraldórë, son of Tirálion. I have been the ambassador of Lord Elrond for centuries and enjoy the job. My home is in Imladris though it was once in the cities of Eregion."
They were staring at him. They had presumably heard of the mythical properties of elves but had dismissed them as old legends. Now someone who had been in the service of Lord Elrond for centuries was sitting beside them.
"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?" Melin asked as though he expected to be retorted angrily. Tiraldórë smiled gently.
"At mid-winter I will be nineteen hundred and fourteen years of the sun." He saw their expressions and nodded as he stood. He offered his hands to them and they took the slender limbs and mounted their horses. He smiled to himself and mounted his own horse.
"Can you fight?" He asked and the two men nodded.
"Yes lord ambassador." Ruan said precisely and Tiraldórë nodded and together they rode through the winding streets of the city. The pale skin of the elf and the long hair marked and set him apart from the two men who followed with shorter hair. Riding through the gate and on through the mountains they were well on their way before darkness fell. Tiraldórë felt for his sword and fought the premonition of danger that assailed him.
After a week of travel the three companions forded the Baranduin near a great forest and rode on for several miles. As the forest gave way to a long plain in all directions, the elf stopped his horse and walked the mount a few hundred yards to the north. This day he had not spoken to his bodyguards as he had on every other day and the men had wondered silently what concerned the elf. They had not vocalised their thoughts for neither wanted an angry elf as a companion. The elf rode forward another hundred or so yards and bowed his head to what seemed like a small hillock. In the distance, a mile or so was a lake that seemed glassy flat. The two men of Arnor felt something in the air. Ruan swore just for a moment he caught the smell of dust and smoke and ash. Then it was gone and the wind sighed through the brown grass and scattered trees. Melin rode forward to the elf that had now looked up at the lake.
"Lord ambassador, pardon me but should we move on? There is no water near and dark is falling."
The elf blinked and turned to his escort. For a moment his gaze was far away then he nodded.
"Of course. I am sorry. It brings back so many memories."
"Memories of what?" Ruan asked despite his own resolution not to ask any personal questions.
"Many centuries ago there was a great battle on this plain. I was only young at the time but I still remember." He pointed to the mound which was covered with white flowers. "That is where our dead were buried." He paused. "Where my father is buried."
"I am sorry." Melin said awkwardly.
"So am I my friends. That is Lake Eventide, the scene of a battle. A famous battle which won the third war of Eregion." He looked at the sinking sun.
"I am sorry to bore you. You are right, we should ride on."
Melin turned with Tiraldórë and rode back to the road. Ruan frowned as he looked at the hillock. For a second he heard the clash of steel and shouts of an unknown language far, far away like an echo. Then it was gone like smoke on the wind and the man rode away from the ancient battlefield.
Two weeks on, the elf continued to ride with good humour and talked often with the two men. The elf would ride beside the two brothers and talk with them. It helped to pass the time but the two soldiers were also learning much as they rode on. Riding through small towns and villages they always received stabling and beds. The locals seemed to know Tiraldórë and he was seemingly a guest of honour at many small settlements. His flowery speeches of thanks were always welcome and the stories and songs he told were greatly admired. The two men were enjoying the trip as well for not only were they treated as friends by the people of the villages but also as they had beds to sleep in for the night. Occasionally there were no settlements and they slept in the open air but the weather remained fine and there was no snow or sleet in the air.
A fortnight after the battlefield, the three riders reached a point where the road passed through some hills and trees. The riders were cautious and rode apart to not be so obvious. Riding through the gap in the hills there was just a small thicket of trees that was clumped on either side of the road and some hills behind. After that there was nothing between the riders and Imladris.
Tiraldórë turned in his saddle and called to Ruan who rode up beside him.
"We should be in Imladris in three days. Two days to the crossing of the Bruinen and then one to Imladris itself."
"I am glad lord ambassador." He held out his hand. The elf clasped it in the familiar way of friends and just as he turned back the attack began.
On a hill just a hundred yards distant there was peace. Sunlight lit the area around with a wintry light and a cold breeze blew up from the mountains to the east. There was no cloud cover and the cold mist that was just beginning to burn off made the land scape almost ethereal and ghost like. The trees around were tall pines such as the ones that grow near great mountain peaks. It was a beautiful morning with nothing unnatural to disturb the peace. The hill overlooked the road which it looked over. The hill was to the east of the tree thicket and had a clear view of the land to east and west.
Then a shadow became visible in the mist as it strode up the hill. It was a humanoid shape and it strode very purposefully up the steep hillside without any missteps. The sun had reached a point about half way between dawn and mid day and it was entirely clear of mist upon the top of the hill when the figure stepped into the sunlight.
He was a man. At least he appeared to be a man; there was something about him that was just too unlike other men for him to be one of them. It may have been his hair which shone like flowing gold. It was shoulder length and seemed to be unnaturally bright for one who had been travelling any distance. Another way he was marked as different from other men was that he seemed to have no baggage, no food or water or bedding. Maybe it was his purposeful stride that seemed to convey strength, honour and bravery.
Most probably it was the eyes that were what set him apart from other mortals. They were as blue as the enchanting depths of the sea or of a great burnished sapphire. The eyes were blue except for several golden lines that branched from the eye's centre to the outside of the iris.
The way the eyes looked was what was important; they had a depth of knowledge and wisdom in them only seen in the eyes of the Eldar. He was swathed in a blue cloak which covered his lower body but when he stepped fully into the light the cloak opened. What was revealed beneath was an ornate suit of armour. It was of a colour of silver and it had many flexible plates on which were engraved letters in a trailing script. It did not cover or encumber his legs but was concentrated over his torso. It was a well made breastplate made of several interlocking pieces. He drew his hands out of his cloak to look around. As he did so three other things became apparent, a necklace with a green stone about his neck, the hilt of an ornate but not impressive sword and a ring upon his left forefinger. The ring's stone was red and shone in the morning sun.
Being so early in the new year an observer would expect to see mist rising from the breath of a man even if he had not walked up a steep hill. The absence of any such mist seemed to show again that he was different. He seemed to be breathing but there was no mist coming from his mouth.
He reached the top of the hill and looked at the wide vista of plains and woods. He seemed to be getting his bearings but then he saw something and ducked to one knee. He looked down with the sun beside him and saw the three riders. He was about to stand when he saw the first blow fall. He nodded grimly and stood and in one move he charged down the crest of the hill. He ran down the gentle slope and across twenty yards of flat ground before the road. He leapt a ditch and near to the road. He had little time.
Tiraldórë felt the wind of the first arrow as it whistled past him and on into oblivion. The two brothers were not so fortunate and both were hit by black shafted arrows. Ruan tried to draw his sword but fell from his mount. The horses reared and his brother fell from his horse as it tried to bolt. He staggered to his feet as the enemy came into sight. Tiraldórë was untouched but his horse was hit and reared as an arrow hit its chest. The mare screamed and plunged backward. Tiraldórë threw himself off and landed on his side. He gasped and rolled over in the dust of the road. From both sides, the enemy was coming out of the shelter of the woods. The attackers were orcs, hideous perversions of men or elves. Their dark skin scarred and their faces deformed and ugly. They carried weapons well suited to their appearance, brutal blades and pole-arms. Ten orcs came from the trees and they walked forward with their weapons drawn. Melin staggered to his feet and attacked with his sword. Wounded and stunned, his blows were countered and then an orc sword chopped down on his back. The man arched his back and looked to Tiraldórë with a look of sorrow and pleading. Then he fell forward and lay still. Now the orcs came towards the elf. Tiraldórë got to his knees, breathing hard and drew his long sword. He had not expected such an attack and had let down his guard for just a moment and in that moment he had been attacked. An orc with a wide and crude axe and shield was before him and swung down the cleaving weapon. Not fully upright, the elf only just parried the blow with his sword. The orc flicked the sword aside and rammed the shield into the chest of the elven ambassador. Tiraldórë fell backward, still shaken and his sword fell away. He tried to reach for it but a steel boot rested on his chest as the sword was kicked aside by another orc. Tiraldórë was pinned to the ground as the other orcs crowded around. Malicious and cruel, they would try to cause as much suffering to their captive as possible. The elf tried to get upright but an orc above him held his rusty pole-arm to his throat. These orcs had obviously tracking him for some time and had awaited their moment until the elf and his companions were off guard and then they would strike.
One of them knelt beside the elf and sneered as he held out a knife until it pricked the delicate ear of the elf. Tiraldórë fought but the orc with the axe leaned on his chest and smiled to reveal the long fangs and broken teeth of its horrid mouth. Just as Tiraldórë was resigned to his fate a blade flew just over his head and struck the axe wielder in the throat.
The orc gasped and Tiraldórë saw the knife was of good quality, it was no orcish or even common human weapon. The orcs bellowed and turned, weapons raised to face the attacker.
The blonde haired warrior had thrown his knife and now leapt onto the road and moved forward. He drew his sword which was strangely hung at his right side. The sword was of exceptional quality and had swirling runes trailed down the blade and even onto the pommel. The weapon was four foot long, pommel to tip, a long sword for a tall strong man. As the unexpected intruder moved forward, the nine orcs came forward to meet him. Uncertain of this new attacker who seemed utterly confident in himself they hung back and did not attack or withdraw
He was upon the orcs in an instant and he hewed down left to right to knock the ill made pole-arm aside. The orc to his left raised his blade but the stranger hit him with his elbow so he staggered back. He took two steps forward and stabbed an orc in the chest. The foe with the axe swung a blow at him which he let go past and then stabbed. The one with the now broken jaw swung but he turned to slice the foe across the chest. The stranger ducked a sword swipe and stabbed backwards to impale his enemy in the stomach. He followed through and without waiting he parried an axe cut and the blade caught his foe in the stomach. Turning quickly he blocked the blow an instant before it would have hit. Flicking the blade up he kicked his foe's leg from beneath him and stabbed him in the chest. The three remainder charged at him but he side stepped a spear lunge and hit him in the throat with a gloved fist. Then before the other two could react he caught the other in the back with the sword. The last unwounded orc tried to get past him but was met with another sword. Tiraldórë had rolled over and picked up his sword which he had hewed down on the head of the orc to kill it instantly. He retrieved the sword and turned to his saviour. The one with the crippled throat tried to run but the long sword of the golden haired stranger sliced across its back and as it fell, the sword stabbed down so it stayed in the body
The stranger sheathed his sword and retrieved his knife from the axe carrying orc. He looked at the elf and held up a hand to motion him to wait. He ran across the two men who lay with their horses, dead on the ground. He examined each of them and after a brief examination he shook his head at the elf. He stood and turned and looked the elven survivor over. When he saw he was uninjured he nodded and looked into the eyes of the elf and asked.
"I am sorry I was too late for your friends. " He said in Sindarin. The voice was calm and almost soft but was also utterly audible even in a raging storm. The elf looked surprised but pleased that the warrior knew Sindarin.
"I am sorry for them too. They were so young." He looked at his rescuer. "Like you I suppose."
The person before him smiled and said gnomically. "Maybe." His look of pleasure was replaced by one of concern. "Are you alright?"
"I am well thanks to you. Who are you human, who fight with such fury?"
"My name can wait perhaps for a more opportune time, when the servants of the enemy do not approach us so. Tell me of yourself." The stranger held out his gloved hands to the elf that took it and limped over to his dead horse. The gloves were of a strange leather and brown in colour. The elf wondered why the man wore them as they would do little good in a fight. The elf looked to his rescuer.
"What did they want with me?" The elf was getting over his surprise. The warrior who sat beside him had fought with such courage and spirit but now seemed so compassionate and honourable.
"Who can tell with such foes, maybe they desire sport or maybe they were seeking this." He picked up the message that had been carried from Elendil to Imladris.
"Maybe, there is nothing important in it though."
"Then maybe they sought an elf who could tell them of the forces that opposed them in this area of the world. It would not surprise me; they are not gentle with their questioning."
The elf shuddered and looked upon the tall man like figure with gratitude. "Then I am glad you were here."
"As am I. Now tell me of who you are and where you seek."
"I am Tiraldórë of Imladris and I am the messenger of Lord Elrond. From his house I was hoping to return with this message from the king of Arnor Elendil."
The stranger thought about this for a second and then nodded. "May I accompany you to Imladris? I have heard that Lord Elrond is very wise in lore." He was guessing but he did not show it. Like usual it payed off.
"Indeed you may my friend. He is indeed wise in lore. Have you a riddle that needs unravelling?" The elf wondered how anyone who looked so noble and who fought so well could not have heard of Lord Elrond, the regent of Eregion and the unofficial heir of the High King.
"Maybe, how far is it yonder?"
"About twenty five miles."
The stranger nodded and seemed not to mind. "We will leave when you are ready."
"May I have your name?" the elf asked with a little anxiety.
The human looked at him and smiled broadly. Then he held his hands up in a dramatic gesture and said very grandly.
"I am Valentai Dal-Moriath Telequéntai. And I am pleased to have been of service."
He looked over to the elf messenger who was unpacking his belongings and trying to drag the dead escorts from the road.
"Leave them." Valentai commanded.
"We cannot leave them to be carrion for the wild animals." The elf was horrified. He saw the wisdom in the words and knew that he was right but it fought everything the elf believed in. The elf promised to return and see a proper burial was given to those brave men of Arnor. For the short time he had known them, they had been friendly and helpful once they had gotten over their nervousness.
"If there is another enemy warband and they see the bodies have been disturbed they will know that you have escaped. If you leave them then they will think another band picked you up. If we had the time, tools and opportunity I would gladly bury them but for now we must go" Valentai said with sympathy.
The other elf nodded and they set off on foot.
For hours they walked along the road that ran east towards the mountains main road east and walked upon it. They reasoned they would be safer from attack if they were on the main road that was patrolled by troops of the kingdom of Arnor. They made good progress on the road but the elf slowly found it harder to keep up. The human walked at the same pace regardless of how long he walked and although Tiraldórë was not weak the un-remitting walking was wearing him down. Eventually he called out to his new companion.
"Valentai. I know speed is important but can we rest for a moment?"
Valentai turned and smiled at him. "I am sorry my friend. I was so pre-occupied with various matters I had quite forgotten stopping for the night. Let us set up a camp off this main road."
Tiraldórë nodded at the words and moved into a flat area hidden by bushes from the road. The elf lit a small fire and Valentai came over to him.
"Tiraldórë, I need to know if you are hurt. Do not try to ignore the pain, tell me. I will do what I can." Valentai said calmly and the elf nodded.
"I fell onto my side, I think it is bruised but nothing more. One of them cut my ear when that knife went past me and my jaw is bruised."
Valentai did not joke at the list of minor injuries but looked at each. Eventually he stood up and reached behind his back. He drew out a flat leather bag which he laid down. The elf looked at it curiously as Valentai put some white powder and some brown leaves into a cup of water the elf had taken from the dead horses.
"Drink this friend."
"What is it?" The elvish ambassador asked. He could not fully trust Valentai after only a single day and he wanted to make sure it was not a trap of the enemy.
"It is a light sleeping remedy which helps the wounds heal." He saw the elf frown. "I though you would want some sleep. If you do not trust me." He took the cup away. Tiraldórë looked into those blue eyes and knew that it was genuine sadness and compassion in them.
"I am sorry Valentai. I just wanted to be sure."
"I understand. Sleep my friend; if you need anything, I am here."
The elf nodded gratefully as he lay upon the ground. Before sleep took him he asked his companion. "And what of you Valentai?"
"I will watch thanks." he answered genially.
The elf fell asleep as only they can, eyes open, glazed and unseeing. Valentai smiled and sat looking outward from the fire into the night. The great sword was across his knees and he stared and looked into the dark until he was sure there was nothing sinister out beyond his circle of light.
He walked about the clearing, checking and preparing. He would allow his companion a few hours sleep before they left again. He put out the fire and checked the elf's baggage. In it he found a map but he had no idea where he was but could guess they were on this road to go to Imladris as Tiraldórë had mentioned.
Tiraldórë woke from a sleep so deep he could not remember one like it. He blinked and rolled over and stretched. He checked himself and found he had not been attacked or captured in the night. He felt strange and then he realised that, as well as a slight headache, his wounds no longer hurt. He groaned and sat up. He could smell smoke and he came forward to see Valentai tending a small fire. The hero looked up as the elf approached and smiled. He saluted the elf and the elf hurriedly returned the gesture.
"Good morning my friend. Feeling better?"
"Yes, thank you Valentai. I have only a headache now."
Valentai smiled. "It will do that unfortunately."
Tiraldórë sat down opposite the golden haired hero. He looked seriously at his saviour. "Valentai, I can see in your eyes that you are no ordinary man. I can see a cloak of mystery that surrounds you. I would like to know who you are and why you saved me."
Valentai nodded as though he had expected the question. "I suppose that it is only fair that I tell you the truth. It is a truth you may find difficult to believe my friend but it is not a lie." He looked at the fire and seemed to be deciding how to begin. He looked up at the elven face which seemed so radiant in the morning light.
"The truth is Tiraldórë; I am indeed no mortal man. In this year I will be eleven hundred and eighty two years old." He looked at the shock on the elf's face. "I was human and mortal once. Long ago, for reasons I will not state now I became immortal and now I am here."
"I could see you were no ordinary man." Tiraldórë said thoughtfully.
"Indeed. I am not of this world either. Hard as that may be to fathom, I was not born on this world and have spent my life travelling between worlds and fighting evil." He smiled at the incredulous look on the ambassador's face. "You can either believe me or you can't. I am telling the truth and if you believe that I would lie to you in such a way then there is little point of travelling together."
"I am sorry Valentai. I have never heard of anything of the sort before. It is hard to believe and yet." He looked into the bottomless blue eyes and nodded slowly. "And yet, I believe you."
"Good. As for why I saved you, did you think I could watch them do what they were about to do to you? No, I am just glad I could have been there."
"So am I Valentai." Tiraldórë said and stood. He felt a little shaky still and staggered. Valentai was beside him and helped him up. He held out a water flask to the elf.
"Have you had any?" Tiraldórë asked and Valentai shook his head.
"You have it my friend."
The elf frowned slightly. "You have not eaten or drunk anything. You have no supplies."
"That is another strange thing about me. I do not need to eat or drink but I prefer if I do. You know the feeling when you are very hungry but it does not affect you?"
"I know it." The elf said.
"It feels like that if I go past the normal mortal limit. I do not weaken but I dislike the feeling. The same with breathing. I can hold my breath but I choose not to."
"So it is a curse?" The elf asked hesitantly. Valentai chuckled.
"No, not really. It is an extra help. I do not often use either but they are there if I need them. I have no provisions because I used up the ones from the previous world and I usually buy supplies as soon as possible."
The elf nodded. It was reassuring in a way to know that he preferred to be normal most of the time. He smiled at the relieved elf.
"The same goes for sleeping. Potentially I could stay awake forever but I see no point in that. Usually I sleep as long as any man or elf.
"Are you alright to walk?" He asked with concern in his voice.
"I will be fine Valentai. I just to walk a bit slower to start with."
Valentai nodded at that and they walked on along the road. It was several hours after dawn and despite the danger of the enemy the two were walking along quite slowly.
After a few hours, Tiraldórë felt better and they walked on faster. Valentai eventually looked across to him.
"Now my friend, where is it we are going? And do you live there?" The elf smiled.
"I do live there when I am not the ambassador at the court of King Elendil. Lord Elrond is the regent of this land which is called Eregion. He is a half-elf originally but he has chosen the life of an Eldar over that of a mortal man. He is wise in lore and is probably the greatest elf to live in Imladris. He is also the unofficial heir to the High King." Valentai knew just from this short response that he would have to learn a good deal about these lands and their people.
"Unofficial?" He asked despite himself.
"The High King never had a wife or children. He was engaged once but." The elf looked into the eyes of Valentai. "But do not mention that, nobody is supposed to know for it ended tragically. Only a few know."
"If Lord Elrond lets me stay then I see I must learn all I can."
"When you get the chance, the library of Imladris is the second largest in the world and has all you need to know. Ask for Lady Silmarë. She will help."
"Thank you my friend." Valentai said thoughtfully.
The two companions walked on and Valentai looked into the sky where clouds were gathering. He nodded as he realised it would be rain later on. As he was about to ask how much further it was he came to a steep valley lip. He crouched down and looked over the path that ran down to a fordable place on the river. Beyond the ford, the road ran straight for a hundred or so yards and then sloped down into a steep valley. Where the road ran straight, the road had a wider verge that led up to a large thicket of trees on the southern side of the road and individual great oaks to the north of the road. The trees were on a slope whilst the road was slightly depressed from the ground which meant that the trees were a perfect hiding place for ambushers. Valentai looked to the ford and saw that it could be watched from a hundred and fifty yards away where there was a collection of great boulders which offered a clear shot at the ford. Valentai turned to Tiraldórë and looked at the elf seriously.
"Is this friendly country? If not, it is a perfect place for an ambush."
The elf laughed. "Only the courtyards of the white city could be safer." He said and clapped the hero on the shoulder. "If we were the enemy we would be seen and stopped at the ford. We have nothing to fear though. Just keep away from the sword and they will not shoot you."
"I am glad." Valentai said and stood up with Tiraldórë. The moved down the bluff across the flat gravel bed of the river. It seemed to suggest that the river became much higher after the snow in the mountains thawed. Valentai walked into the ford and was surprised by the cold and the swiftness of the river. Though only twenty yards wide, it took him about five minutes to cross. Valentai knew that few defenders with good weapons could hold back a host of the enemy. He crossed and held his hand out to the elf who took it and climbed the far bank and came to the tree shaded road. Valentai turned to the elf.
"We are being watched."
"Of course we are. There are a hundred archers of the best quality on duty always with another hundred to north or south. The main army can be ready to repel an invasion in a half hour."
"I am impressed." Valentai said genuinely.
"It is necessary. Although there is only one place to ford the river, an army can push across quickly." He looked sad for a moment. Valentai understood.
"It happened once?" Tiraldórë nodded sadly.
"Yes. Long ago."
Valentai had walked for twenty yards along the road when he stopped dead and unslung his sword. He laid it on the ground and raised his hands. Tiraldórë looked at him and then nodded as half dozen elves dropped from the trees around them and advanced cautiously forward. They had no weapons drawn but Valentai supposed there were fifty crack archers that could shoot him down if they so chose. The elf leader was an otherwise unremarkable elf with blonde hair and a scarred left ear. He was wearing a simple green and brown outfit of a sylvan elf. The elf saluted to Tiraldórë and then smiled at Valentai. From what his companion had said Valentai knew that men were allowed to enter and speak with Lord Elrond if he so willed. The men of Arnor were friends and allies and were greeted as such.
"Greetings Ambassador Tiraldórë. I hope your mission to Annúminnas was a success." The elf said calmly and waved a hand back at the trees. Valentai could see the shadowy figures in the trees relax and some dropped to the ground to meet their visitors.
Tiraldórë handed over the message from the king. "This is the last message of the year. It was a success but unfortunately I was near slain."
"Slain by what my friend?" The elf said and laid a hand on the ambassador's shoulders.
"Orcs. We were ambushed as we passed through trees just twenty five miles distant. The king had given me two escorts but they were killed by arrows and they knocked me down. They would have killed me, or worse." The sylvan elf winced at the thought. "This person here." Tiraldórë nodded to Valentai who saluted. "He saved me and defeated the enemy."
The sylvan elf smiled and held out a hand which Valentai grasped. The two had been speaking in Sindarin and the lack of speech from Valentai was interpreted as having no skill of that language. There were many humans who spoke it well but certainly less than one in twenty could speak more than a few words. The sylvan elf spoke in common which is what Valentai had talked to Tiraldórë in for most of the journey. The border guard was not especially good at common but he tried.
"We owe you our thanks, stranger of the north." The accent was broken but Valentai smiled and spoke in flawless Sindarin. The elf language was virtually identical wherever he went and only a few minutes of listening were needed for him to remember the tone shifts and pronunciation.
"Do not put yourself out over me my friend. I am just sorry I could not save his escorts. However I am glad that I saved one life from a fate worse than death."
The two elves looked at him amazed. Valentai spoke their language like he was born to do it. In fact, in many people's opinions, he was more suited to Sindarin then the common languages.
"Who are you stranger, who speak our tongue so well?" The sylvan elf in said in Sindarin once more.
"My name is Valentai Dal-Moriath Telequéntai and I have many strange tales to tell." Valentai said with a smile.
"He is right in that at least Aendril. He has many surprises and a few he has not told me."
Aendril nodded and pushed the golden hair away from his eyes. He looked to Valentai. "You are welcome to enter my friends. What do you wish to do?" The elf asked Valentai who smiled.
"I would like to speak to Lord Elrond." Valentai said and the two elves nodded.
"I think that that is best. I will send two guides with you. Tiraldórë does not need them but it is a dangerous path sometimes in winter."
Valentai nodded at the words. "Thank you my friend. I hope to meet you later."
Aendril nodded and made a quick signal to his troops and they scattered and disappeared in the trees. Two elves who were young by elven standards led them on.
** Author's Notes – The First Chapter **
What can I say? Maybe, 'do not give up yet'! I dislike this chapter on principle because so much needs to be introduced. Valentai needs to be introduced and it was more dramatic (and clichéd I admit) to have such an entry. It is useful because it does tell you a little about the character of Valentai. This is more of a prologue than a chapter and it shows by its short length. This chapter is the shortest in the story I believe and that is because I wanted it kept separate from the others. Looking back, this was perhaps the hardest non military chapter to write. (I rewrote it three times.) Hopefully it is not so bad as to persuade the reader to not read it. It will get better I assure you.
One last point is Annúminnas and Arnor. I added Maelius and gave him the title of Archduke because I like both the title and the name. Annúminnas is an interesting city and it will be shown more and more as time and chapters go past. Cue dramatic scene!
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