On the morning of our seventh day of travel, we came to Minas Tirith. It was a fine morning, though chill. As we rode over the last small hill the sun shone forth through the heavy fog that had so far prevented us from seeing a hint of the city. As the fog faded away and became a thin mist, I saw it. It was carved from the side of the mountain and rose to the sky in many towers and turrets. At the very top of the city was one tower, Ecthelion. We heard the sound of trumpets echoing off of the mountainside, but I was not sure if they announced our arrival or merely welcomed the morning. I remember the way my breath caught in my throat as our calvacade broke into a gallop down the hill, Éowyn leading the way. By the time we were within a few yards of the city I could hear the people shouting with excitement, "The White Lady! The Lady has returned! Éowyn! Éowyn!" The mighty gates had been opened before us and Éowyn thundered through them and out of sight. I followed slowly, allowing my horse to move at a creeping pace as my eyes tried to take in all the wonder around me. In my travels in this fair land I had yet to see anything like this. I had earlier compared Edoras to Camelot, but compared to this city, Edoras was a farmer's village. I felt certain I had stepped through the pearly gates. Surely the architect of this city had been granted a glimpse of that glory, for it was almost beyond belief.
I do not know how long I sat on the back of my horse thus absorbed, but at last my mind began to register a few things. The sun was much brighter than it had been when I had first rode through the gates, the loud voices and trumpets could be heard no more, and I had no idea where I or any of the members of our party were. I was amongst some modest homes, although even they were worth looking at, where the working class lived. I could see no glimpse of the others. In fact, my horse seemed to be the only horse around, for the townspeople were staring from their doorways and whispering amongst themselves. Before I could panic I forced myself to concentrate and think of where they could have gone. I noticed again that the highest point of the city was one tower. It seemed to be the place where royalty would dwell, so I moved Amigo to a trot and began a slow ascent. Before I had gone too far, a page in black and silver livery ran to my side.
"Are you the Wayfarer, Helen?" he asked breathlessly.
"I am." I said hoping that this stranger could lead me to Éowyn. My wishes were fulfilled. The lady had reached her home, he said, and then realized that her friend was no where to be found. Four pages had been scouring the city for me since. He lifted a small silver trumpet to his lips and gave a few short blasts. The three answering blasts from various parts of the city acknowledged the signal.
"My companions are now aware that you have been found. Come, the lady awaits." With that he turned and ran up the road. He signaled Amigo and we followed. The page ran rather fast. I was surprised. A few moments later I slowed Amigo to a walk again, and I'm sure my mouth was hanging open in a most undignified way. We had reached the palace of the king, and I was overwhelmed. I dismounted and handed the reins to the page who took my horse and disappeared. A graceful maid greeted me and took me into the palace. We walked through a bewildering maze of halls and rooms too grand for me to describe before coming to a set of wooden doors. The woman swung the doors opened and announced (her first words since she had welcomed me) "Helen, Wayfarer," and backed out of the room shutting the door behind her. I was immediately enveloped in a warm embrace and heard Éowyn's penitent tones as she apologized for leaving me alone in the city. Of course I told her it was my fault, and then she said, "I have someone here that I have longed for you to meet."
When I turned to look at the other person in the room, my heart skipped a beat. I was sure that this was the most handsome man I had ever met. He had the look of a warrior, and yet still the look of a poet. His hair and eyes were soft brown. He seemed loyal and kind. This must be Éowyn's Faramir, I thought. He bowed to me graciously and welcomed me to Gondor. I enjoyed listening to his voice, and found myself wanting to ask him to sing. The three of us sat on a group of couches and talked for a few moments. In truth I doubt that I spoke a word. I was watching Faramir, the way he spoke and moved his hands, but mostly the way he looked at Éowyn. It was clear that he thought her the most wonderful woman in the world. And isn't that the way it is supposed to be?
At some time during our interview I realized that it must be nearing one in the afternoon, and I had not eaten since that morning. I am afraid that my stomach made its presence known, for suddenly Éowyn said aloud that I must be famishing and rang a bell, and then before I knew it a bevy of servants were bring trays and whatnot. The next hour passed in a blur and then I was standing in a suite of rooms that were to be my own. I was there to rest and bathe and prepare myself for dinner that night. The King Elessar and his wife the Queen Evenstar had invited Faramir and Éowyn and me to join them for a private dinner on a terrace. A page would take me there when I was ready.
My suite was, of course, very lovely. It was hung in shades of purple that ranged from palest lavender to dark plum. Fresh flowers adorned every available tabletop, and paintings graced the walls. I decided to study the paintings in depth later, but for now I would explore the rooms. First was the parlor area, with its couches and hearth. Behind it was an archway, hung with nearly transparent cloth, that led out to a balcony. On the right and left were two more archways. A quick glance in one revealed the bedroom, but the other was more interesting. I found some sort of bathing room. I have never seen its like anywhere else. There were sconces on either side of a full length mirror, various pitchers for water, and other normal sort of things you'd need for bathing, but the amazing thing was the huge tub. I was accustomed to a small washtub at home, but this was different. It was rectangular, sunken into the floor, and paved with smooth gray stones. Built into the wall around it were shelves for various bottles of ointments and oils. The tub was filled by a pump tht pulled the water straight from its source into the room. Hot water was ingeniously provided. A stone cabinet with two shelves was built into the corner of two walls. The top shelf held a huge copper kettle, and the bottom a grate for building a fire. Once the water was heated a copper pipe would pour the water into the tub with a twist of a handle. It was a simple device really, but wonderful.
A maid, whose name escapes me, came to help me bathe. She rubbed scented oils into my hair and cleaned my nails with a scented stick. When I was through I wrapped myself in a large silky robe and lay on my bed to sleep.