Chapter 4 – Halbarad.

For three months Lethril sailed the waters around Dol Amroth with captain Harkal's ship and learned much of life at sea. It was early in the fourth when his old life crept up on him again. He was quick to learn, and soon he had taken over most of Delwyn's tasks while Delwyn himself was more or less left to Lethril's old tasks. At first, he went on about what an easy, lazy life he now led, but Lethril could see the hatred and shame seething within him at times. Spring had come and the streets of Dol Amroth were lined with flowers in bloom and the lands were green. Lethril was rather unhappy, and he longed to walk in the forests again, but at least felt that he was making a living.

One day when Lethril was lounging in the afternoon sun at the pier, he suddenly spotted one of the boys from his home village. How different he seemed! Lethril wondered briefly if he himself had changed, too. Then the boy spotted him, but instead of looking away again, like they normally did, he grabbed the arm of a boy beside him – also from the village, Lethril saw now – and started pointing and talking quickly. Lethril lowered his gaze, ignoring them. But someone else did not. Delwyn jumped over the ship's railing and onto the quay, ambling over to the young men. Before long, they were talking in hushed voices, shooting glances at Lethril, who continued to ignore them, for the moment. Yet he knew what was to come.

That same evening, around the dinner table, the mood was jolly, with the exception of Delwyn and Lethril, who exchanged furious glances, but kept quiet. When they had finished their meal, the captain announced that it was time to prepare to set sail. Then Delwyn rose.

'I refuse to sail another league with a traitor aboard the ship,' he said calmly.

'Traitor?' exclaimed Harkal, confused.

'It came to my knowledge today that young Lethril is the son of none other than Anthril the traitor, and all along he has denied it!'

'I did not deny it,' said Lethril in a low voice.

'So you admit it?' This time, Harkal spoke.

'Yes. My father refused to fight in the War, but it was before I was born, and I am not him.'

'Yet you inherited his weakness,' said Delwyn triumphantly 'as you are clearly too cowardly to fight another man.'

At this, Lethril flew up, leaned over the table and punched Delwyn, fast and hard. Delwyn held his nose ad made a muffled noise as it started dripping with blood, then stood up and made to rush around the table.

'Stop it, both of you!' shouted the captain. 'I will not have this on my ship!'

The two young men stood face to face, breathing heavily, trembling with excitement. Lethril was pale, his face a picture of desperate defeat. Delwyn, however, smiled wryly.

'And I will not sail with traitors,' sighed Harkal, glancing at Lethril with pity.

But Lethril's gaze was fixed upon Delwyn as he quickly and quietly collected his pack and old cloak from a corner. Without a word, he left them to further discuss his shortcomings and took to the night streets of Dol Amroth.

In a way, it reminded him of his first morning here. Only now he seemed infinitely more sure of himself. The months at sea had hardened him, and he knew he would survive, somehow. Now all he had to do was to decide where to go next. He strode up a street from the harbour to the higher levels of the city, confident but without a specific goal in mind. Suddenly someone stepped out of the shadows and blocked his way. He clenched his fist into a ball, ready to strike out, knowing now that he was capable of doing so.

'Now, now,' said the man. 'I'm not out to rob you.'

Now Lethril recognised him as the very same man he had seen on that misty morning, his face still veiled by the hooded cloak.

'You,' he said, relaxing slightly.

'Let's have a drink and talk,' said the man, motioning at a building where a warm light shone from the windows.

'I have nothing. I will not be able to pay,' said Lethril suspiciously, as he doubted this rugged stranger was particularly rich.

'I know,' said the man, who was already walking towards the inn.

Inside, the inn was clean and proper, and probably more expensive than any place Lethril had ever been. He was sure they would be back out in the streets in seconds, but to his great surprise, the barman nodded in recognition at the man by his side and drew them two ales. They sat down at a table, and Lethril sipped apprehensively at the strong brew.

'You are more careful that last time we met. That's good. A step forward,' remarked the man.

'Who are you?' asked Lethril, just as he had on their first meeting. The man smiled and lowered his hood. He was younger than Lethril had expected, with bright blue eyes and dark brown, unkept hair and a short beard. He was not from the south, but this Lethril had already guessed from his accent.

'I am Halbarad,' he said.

Lethril knew the name, of course, and furrowed his brow. Halbarad had been one of the greatest heroes of the War, fighting alongside king Elessar in the Battle of Pelennor, where he had also perished.

'I can see you are confused. Halbarad was my father, and I was conceived before he went to war. When my mother heard the news of his death, she named me Halbarad the second.'

'My Lord,' said Lethril then and inclined his head.

'Nonsense. I am simply Halbarad, and noone's lord. And you are Lethril, son of Anthril.'

'Anthril the traitor,' muttered Lethril.

'That is not for me to judge. The War was over long before I could walk.'

'How do you know so much about me?'

'I took an interest in you that morning when we last spoke,' said Halbarad and shrugged. 'I've been keeping an eye on you.'

'But why?' asked Lethril.

'I spend the winters down here sometimes. The cold up north gets me down something terrible. At least here you can move, be outside… But it gets tiresome, too, and I needed something to distract me. I'll be moving on soon though.'

'Where to?' asked Lethril, intrigued and excited at speaking to the son of a legend.

'Like my father, I was brought up a ranger, but the north lands never appealed to me. I am too much of a thinker, and not enough of a survivor to feel comfortable up there. A few of us stayed here in Gondor to be with Aragorn, and when I was old enough to travel on my own, I joined them.'

Lethril was a little confused at how Halbarad spoke of rangers as 'us' and 'them' in the same sentence, but understood that he clearly felt a strong bond with the other rangers.

'Now, I will probably journey up to Minas Tirith, stay there for a while, then see what comes along. I have the whole summer ahead of me. Where are you going, now that you no longer sail with captain Harkal?'

Marvelling again at Halbarad's precise knowledge of his life, he glanced up quickly, then shrugged, giving no reply.

'Why don't you join me?' suggested Halbarad.

Although Lethril was instantly very happy and flattered with the invitation, he did not want Halbarad to have any expectations on him that might prove wrong.

'I wouldn't be much use,' he therefore said quickly. 'I know very little of the way of rangers.'

'Not many do. But tell me, do you love the forest and the green lands?'

'I do.'

'And I have already seen that you will only use force to defend yourself and your pride, is that no true?'

'It is.'

'That that is as good a start as any. What say you? Will you join me, at least as far as the White City?'

'I will,' said Lethril then, looking up and smiling. For the first time in weeks he began to feel something akin to happiness, although he was careful not to let it overwhelm him. 'When do we leave?' he asked.

'How about now?' said Halbarad, drained his mug and wiped the froth from his beard with his sleeve.