In An Age Before - Part 115
Now the two ellith did indeed spend four days in the construction of a 'boat', and a poorer collection of lumber to create the hull the Eldar had ne'er seen. Having neither the time nor the tools to make proper boards of their timbers, they chose to use fallen pine trunks, dry and of thigh thickness, to form a raft some fathom in width by a fathom and a half in length. Upon the center fathom they built a raised platform of sundry branches covered by a thatched lean-to to keep dry their gear. As they would follow the current, they needed no mast or sail. A pair of crude oars and a short tiller completed the construction. 'Twas sturdier and larger than the raft Dregla had lost, and it floated more stably as well. As a necessary embarrassment they regarded it, and so they contrived to pass Lórinand by night. Still, they marked the laughter of the border guards that carried 'cross the water from the Golden Wood as they passed.
"No doubt 'tis Orophin and his company of merry knaves belly laughing at our plight," Helluin grumbled as the mellyrn slipped by to starboard. "I dread our next visit thither."
"Of a certainty shalt he proffer his tale to all," Beinvír agreed.
"Aye, and a more loquacious band of gossips art not to be found in all of Middle Earth," the Noldo chaffed, recalling the fervent interest the Galadrim had exhibited when she had visited the flet of Galadriel and Celeborn's incarceration in S.A. 1375.
"Ahh well, 'tis 'naught to be done about it, I deem," Beinvír said whilst resigning herself to the ribbing they'd endure upon their next visit.
Now the two ellith had passed Lórinand upon the night of their third day afloat, and eight days later they came to Nen Hithoel, the teardrop shaped lake amidst the tall cliffs of the Emyn Muil. At the entrance to the lake whither the cliffs rose, they had been met by a wonder, for upon each cliff bracketing the water there had been constructed a colossus a half-furlong in height, standing upon great pedestals whose foundations were sunk in the bed of the river. These impressive figures wore battle armor, each bearing an axe in their right hand, each left hand held palm out in sign of warning against incursions from upriver. They were wrought from the native stone by the craft of Gondor, and had been completed in T.A. 1430, but two years afore.
"Incredible," Beinvír whispered in awe at her first sight of them. "Very great must have been the labor to carve such figures."
"Aye, great indeed," Helluin had replied, "and their message is clear by their upraised hands; come no further if thou be an enemy of Gondor. I wager 'tis the work of Minalcar, or perhaps his son Valacar; a warning to the Easterlings that Rómendacil II defeated two centuries past."
To this, the Green Elf nodded in agreement.
"Somewhat familiar their visages appear to me, Helluin. Doth not the figure upon the left resemble Isildur, and that upon the right Anárion?"
The Noldo squinted as she regarded the two faces far above.
"A resemblance I should call it and no more," she finally allowed. "I remember neither as being so square of jaw, nor so broad of nose."
Once past the Pillars of the Kings, they shaped their course along the western bank as the current drew them on. They recalled that upon the lake's southern or downstream shores, stood Amon Lhaw, the Hill of the Ear, upon the eastern shore, whilst upon the western shore stood Amon Hen, the Hill of the Eye. 'Twas on the Seat of Seeing atop Amon Hen that Sauron had assailed Beinvír and dueled with Helluin in S.A. 3410. 'Twixt these two hills flowed the gathered waters of Anduin to the thundering Falls of Rauros, whilst amidstream towered the steep pinnacle of Tol Brandir.
They beached their raft upon the western shore 'nigh Amon Hen, at that long glade called Parth Galen. 'Twas the afternoon of 8 Nórui, (June 8th). Barely had they set foot on solid ground ere they were approached and hailed by soldiers of the South Kingdom, for in those days the north gate of Gondor was garrisoned, and a company of two hundred troops had been deployed thither for to keep watch.
"Hail travelers," the captain of the guards called out. "In the name of the king I bid thee declare thyselves and thy errand."
"Hail, good captain. I am Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Host of Finwë, and with me is Beinvír, Laiquende of Eriador, who was known upon a time to Elendil and Isildur and Anárion. Long we have been friends of the Dúnedain, yet now we have heard tidings of trouble in the succession of King Eldacar and have come to learn 'aught of what passes, and perhaps offer such aid as we can."
The captain and squad of soldiers had joined the two ellith, and the captain regarded the two ellith with sharp scrutiny, yet being an honorable Man of the West, he quickly discerned the truth of their words and accepted their declaration. They had met his eyes openly and he could detect no subterfuge in them, and they were certainly of the Elder kindred, the first such he had met. Yet the captain was not a soldier only, but like the captains of ages past, he knew much of lore and history, and he had seen duty upon land and sea in his lord's service.
"I am Hathol son of Magor and I command the watch upon Anduin from the Argonath to Rauros, as well as the Emyn Muil to the west of the river. Thy names and gear I recognize from our lore. Thou hast long had the welcome of the South Kingdom and may pass the border and enter the King's lands."
"Our thanks, Captain Hathol," Helluin said, "and we offer our sympathies upon the passing of King Valacar, for a wise ruler and a great lord was he."
Her words prompted a momentary flash of sorrow on the Man's face as he nodded his acceptance and thanks. 'Twas obvious he had esteemed his late king.
"We have heard tell of the coronation of his son, Prince Eldacar, and that some hold him to be unfit by blood?"
The captain sighed at the Noldo's words. Ill news traveled fast it seemed.
"Alas such tidings art true," Hathol said, "and though born in the north of a princess of that land, Lord Eldacar oft came amongst his troops ere taking the throne. Many of us have come to know and love him. He hath the wisdom of his father and the courage of his grandsire. Despite 'aught that some claim regarding his bloodline, he hath e'er been a just and valiant prince. As did his father aforetime, he hath my allegiance and that of many at arms in Gondor's service as well."
To this, Helluin nodded in thanks.
"Know'th thou who 'tis that oppose him?" Beinvír asked.
Now a harder look came to the captain's eyes and he said, "for the most part 'tis some amongst the noble houses, courtiers and wealthy gentry who art wont to revel in their own lineages. They whisper and agitate, foisting false pride as patriotism, seeking for to safeguard the pure blood of Westernesse, they say, thereby to safeguard their own privilege. To me they art close to treason, speaking thus against their right lord, our past king's sole heir."
Oh this is not good, not good at all, Beinvír said silently to Helluin eye to eye, for the dissent of some of the nobles has earned the hatred of the army, or at least some of the army.
Aye, and so courtly influence vies with military power o'er the course of the kingdom. I hope it comes not to a head, for 'tis a recipe for a massacre, yet we must discover how widely held art these sentiments. We art upon the marches, not in the cities, and things may stand differently in Osgiliath.
Helluin eyed the low angle of Anor, soon to sink behind the highlands of the Emyn Muil to the west.
"Captain, 'tis our intent to pass down the path from Parth Galen and descend the North Stair 'nigh Rauros, so to come into the lowlands and thence make our way downriver to Osgiliath," Helluin said.
Captain Hathol nodded, having expected just such, and said, "sufficient daylight remains to make the foot of the stair and set a camp ere the light fails, yet if thou can spare this night from thy travels, I would invite thee to stay with us and continue on thy way with the morn. We art well provisioned, and t'would be an honor to host thee at our board."
"A meal we have not caught ourselves would be welcome, Captain, and thy company would be more welcome still, for traveling by water we have met none since leaving the Fields of Gladden," Beinvír quickly replied, knowing that Helluin would be tempted to walk all night if she'd allow it.
"And any tidings of Gondor would be greatly appreciated as well," Helluin added.
A smile graced the stern face of the captain, for visitors were rare at their station and none so intriguing as the two ellith had yet passed his post. The Men of his company seemed to relax slightly their bearing as well, for the presence of well-traveled strangers would enliven the otherwise dull evening which had been expected, as 'tis for soldiers in most times and places, to mingle much boredom with the possibility of sudden danger.
"Come then to our camp and make thyselves comfortable ere we sup. T'would seem we have much to speak of this night, for I shalt tell thee all I can of how things now stand in the City of Kings, and for my part, I would hear of thy travels, for ne'er have I passed north up Anduin beyond the Limlight. Yet thither, tales say, lays a blessed realm of thy folk amidst towering trees of gold, and if thou hast seen it, I would delight in hearing thy tale."
"Thou speak of Lórinand, and we spent this winter past in that realm. Too, we have a long acquaintance with its people. Gladly shalt we share tidings," Helluin said.
So they made their way back to the camp of the Dúnedain, which was located in the shadow of Amon Hen, more southerly upon the shore.
"'Tis all the gear thou hast?" a young soldier detailed to settle the two Elves asked in amazement when he saw Helluin and Beinvír had carried from their raft but one travel bag apiece slung o'er their shoulders.
"Aye, 'tis all we need," the Green Elf replied, enduring yet another smitten look from the soldier. "Arda is bountiful and by the grace of the One and those in the West, we art e'er provided for."
"'Tis so with all thy folk?" he asked, having ne'er aforetime met an Elf.
"Indeed not," Helluin replied. "We follow the wisdom of her people, whilst of old, my people campaigned afield with such a burden of gear as to make thy camp appear but sparsely furnished."
She was recalling the camps of the Noldor of Beleriand in the First Age, of Ereinion and Ciryatur in Lindon and 'nigh Tharbad during the War of the Elves and Sauron, and those set by her late High King during the Last Alliance. Turgon brought a gilt bathtub to the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, Ereinion a 600 year old dining table and chairs. Even Elrond brought a dozen tomes, a journal, and a folding writing desk, as if he expected to find none in Fornost.
Now the camp of the Dúnedain was set back from the lawn of Parth Galen, amongst the trees on a gentle upslope ere the land rose more steeply to Amon Hen. Well 'nigh all was hid from the water by a low rise, so that the camp would not be easily marked from the eastern shore. Low barracks of logs, with plank floors and bunks for 20 soldiers apiece were set partially into the ground to reduce height. Their sloping, single-pitched roofs were camouflaged with dirt, leaves, deadfall, and some small plants. So too were constructed the kitchen/larder/mess hall, latrine pits, a meeting room for the officers, and a storage space/armory. Close by to the north, a freshet ran down to the lake from the surrounding highlands, whilst to the south lay the trailhead to the stair descending the escarpment o'er which Rauros tumbled.
'Tis a good and functional camp, well laid and suited to long term occupancy, Helluin silently remarked to Beinvír. This posting has lasted for many years, I wager.
Most likely some have been billeted hither since the days of Rómendacil II, the Green Elf agreed. The land bears the wear of many feet to be seen, with paths long trod.
Aye, and yet knowing the nature of Men, 'tis much less disturbance then could be. Perhaps some lessons Gondor has learnt from the Rangers of Lebennin.
I deem it so indeed, for hast thou marked the trench fires and the watch flets o'erhead? The sentries upon them art cloaked, hooded, and barely to be seen even from close by. And amongst those who came to meet us were four out of a dozen bearing bows.
The two ellith chose a spot upslope from the Dúnedain camp, and save for their travel bags hung from branches some fathom aboveground, 'twas 'naught to be seen of it. Later, when they took their rest, they would spread ground clothes to lie upon, but in such fine weather, 'twas no need of more shelter than the boughs of the trees o'erhead.
Now the officers met for their board at six hours past noon, and the soldiers ate in two shifts starting at the same hour. In good weather such as they enjoyed that evening, long trestle tables and benches were brought out and set in the open just outside the kitchen, one for the officers and their guests, and another five larger ones for the Men at arms. Soon the scent of food filled the air, and conversation as well, spoken in moderate tones so as not to carry.
Captain Hathol sat at the head of the officers' table with the Elves seated to his left. Upon his right hand sat his lieutenants, Ramthál¹ and Bóremel², and beyond them the camp's surgeon, quartermaster, signal master, and a third lieutenant, somewhat shorter and stockier than the Dúnedain, and clad in the cloak of mixed greens clasped at the throat with the black Sarchram broach of a Lebennin Ranger. ¹(Ramthál, Wingfoot, Sindarin) ²(Bóremel, Trueheart Sindarin)
He had started slightly at his first sight of the two, and thereafter this Man's hazel eyes strayed from them but little. At their seating he raised his right hand to touch the broach below his throat and bowed his head to them in respect for a moment, a gesture they returned. The captain marked this exchange and introduced the Man.
"Helluin and Beinvír, I should introduce Talagant¹ of Linhir, a Lieutenant of the Rangers of Lebennin and the commander of the Rangers detailed to this company of Gondor," Captain Hathol said, adding with a smile, "he hath also the best singing voice of us all. Lieutenant, we art favored this night with the company of Helluin Maeg-mórmenel of the Noldor and Beinvír Laiquende, though by thy actions I deem no such introduction is truly necessary." ¹(Talagant, Harper Sindarin)
"Indeed they art unmistakable to me, Lord Captain," Talagant said. "'Tis a great honor to meet ye, First Guardians."
"Long it hath been since any addressed us thus," Helluin replied. "'Tis heartwarming to know we art remembered."
"The Dúnedain of Gondor art not alone in recalling their history, m'lady. Lebennin remembers thy denial of Pelargir to Prince Tindomul and the King's Men of Númenor long ago. Cónhal¹ Beinvír led our troops in the holding of Ithilien and the siege of Minas Ithil during the last Great War. These things we do not forget." ¹(Cónhal, High Commander = cón(commander) + hald(high). Final consonants –ld resolve to –l at the end of Sindarin proper nouns such as names, or in this case, a formal military title. Sindarin This title eventually gave rise to the modern military rank of colonel during the 5th Age.)
As I told thee once long ago, long life confers titles, '…the wage of trudging many miles and losing many battles', Helluin silently said to Beinvír. Thou hast now another to add to thy life list. Cónhal…I like the sound of it.
The Green Elf chuckled and replied just as silently, I confess 'tis more appealing than 'Gôrgbu of Drúwaith Iaur'.
At this recollection, Helluin grimaced. Long memory had its downside most surely.
Now the meal commenced with words of thanks given by the captain and a moment of silence observed by all the company as 'twas the custom in Gondor. Thereafter all helped themselves to abundant fare, the benefits of soldiers serving a strong realm in time of peace. Platters were laden with sliced ham and chickens broken into parts, roasted potatoes and ears of corn, vegetables steamed, and wild mushrooms sautéed with onions, a round of cheese in red wax, and slices of dense dark bread with butter and honey. For drinking they had pitchers of clean, clear water from the stream, sweet cider spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg, and a pale ale in flagons with which to fill their mugs. The company ate with the gusto of Men living and working long hours outdoors, and the two ellith joined them, rejoicing in the variety and quality of simple food well prepared.
Much was told as they ate and drank, and the soldiers of Gondor were amazed at their account of Lórinand and the tree city amidst the mellyrn. Much did the Elves learn of the state of politics in Gondor. Much of it was good, but 'twas o'ershadowed by the seeds of contention, and a self-congratulatory self-regard.
"I deem 'tis the nature of nobility to revel in its primacy," Captain Hathol commented, "and perhaps the pettier the noble, the greater his stake in his heritage and the privilege it confers. Lore tells that some kings too have indulged themselves in this nature…Narmacil and his brother Calmacil the most recent."
Both past kings had reigned within the memory of the eldest of living Dúnedain, and their lordship was recent history to many who now served.
"Yet thy more recent lords have redeemed their line in deed, t'would seem," Beinvír said. "Rómendacil II won great victories in Gondor's name, and was he not long regent 'neath his predecessors? And his son Valacar cemented the alliance 'twixt Gondor and the North Men during his embassy to Rhovanion, or so we have heard."
"Aye, thou hast heard true," Lieutenant Bóremel agreed, "and in Minalcar we had the greatest king since Hyarmendacil Ciryaher 400 years past."
A soft stamping of boots, the nodding of heads, and the raising of mugs accompanied the mention of Ciryaher's name, for he was revered for defeating the Haradrim and thereby saving Umbar which his grandfather Eärnil had won for Gondor a century aforetime.
"'Tis true that our last two kings have redeemed the honor of the throne," Hathol said, "at least in the eyes of the army. My father served Gondor at arms when Rómendacil II crushed the Easterlings, and e'er did he esteem his king. Too, he came to esteem the North Men whose cavalry aided Gondor in that war. Swift and fierce they were, e'er loyal to friends and true to their word."
"So they were when last we left them," Helluin said, recalling the changes during the reign of King Ërlick and Queen Brekka some 400 years past.
"Yet now some question Rómendacil II's wisdom in sending hence his son for so long an embassy in Rhovanion," Captain Hathol said with rising anger, "and some whisper that King Valacar's wedding of Princess Vidumavi was an indiscretion indicative of a natal flaw in his character."
"They see the fault in each son worse than his sire's, and say the flaws of King Valacar have blossomed in his half-breed son," Lieutenant Ramthál spat.
"So they reject Lord Eldacar, claiming his yet unmade decisions shalt be the ruin of Gondor, as if such art preordained by his blood," Lieutenant Bóremel ground out.
The anger of the officers was deep and uniformly held. The Elves clearly marked this in the Men's facial expressions and body language.
"What say thou, Lieutenant Talagant?" Beinvír asked.
The Ranger of Lebennin looked the Green Elf square in the eyes and said, "the Men of Lebennin swore allegiance to Isildur and Anárion, the first Kings of Gondor. This thou saw with thine own eyes. We have been true to each king since, and though we art not Dúnedain, each king has accepted our service and done us honor as Men of Gondor. Upon our honor we shalt serve the right King of Gondor, and that king is Eldacar."
Beinvír nodded in acceptance of this. True heart…like the North Men, e'er loyal and true to their word.
"Captain Hathol, hast thou heard of any whom the nobles would favor?" Helluin asked.
To this the captain shook his head.
"Nay, Helluin, none I know of have been named. For a season we have held this post, and Lord Valacar still ruled when we left the city. We shalt not be relieved ere 1 Cerveth (July 1st). We expect supplies 6 days hence, upon 14 Nórui, and perhaps some word shalt come then of how things stand in Osgiliath."
The Noldo nodded in understanding. Eldacar had taken the crown upon 1 Lothron. Captain Hathol and his Men had only heard of the succession and the trouble following the coronation whilst on duty. Indeed, if supplies were received twice monthly, they would have first heard tidings of it upon 14 Lothron.
Some 260 miles lay 'twixt Rauros and Osgiliath. Even if Captain Hathol's company was supplied from the long isle of Cair Andros, t'would still be a journey of some 215 miles. For a train of ox-drawn carts, she reckoned 'twas nine to fourteen days each-way. Helluin suspected that Hathol and his Men had likely learnt of the succession upon 14 Lothron, but of the following troubles only upon 1 Nórui, 8 days past. Since then they had stewed in doubt and nursed a growing anger.
"Captain, on the morrow we shalt have need of haste. I would ask a favor of thee; to give us a lead of four hours to descend the stair and thence to send o'er the falls our raft."
The captain's eyes widened in surprise. Surely 'naught but sticks would remain when came that raft to the bottom of Rauros.
The Noldo read his doubt.
"Even should only sticks remain, t'will be faster to reconstruct our craft than to build anew, yet perhaps Rauros shalt be kind to our cause and deliver it in but a few pieces that we can rapidly rejoin. Even should the worst follow, 'tis little to be lost by the attempt," Helluin said with a wry grin.
To this wisdom Captain Hathol chuckled. In his mind's eye he could see the two ellith drifting down Anduin to the City of Kings upon their crude raft.
Now the following morn the two ellith awoke with Anor's rising, as is the way with many who live outdoors, and after greeting Captain Hathol and his officers o'er breakfast, they made their way south down the path from Parth Galen to the North Stair. Unlike the stairs that rose from Imlad Ithil to the fortress of Cirith Ungol, the North Stair was a stair in name only, being in truth a steep path of many switchbacks upon which ox carts could, with slow deliberation, ascend and descend the roughly 1,600 ft escarpment. It served too as a portage way if one had sufficient hands to carry a small boat. The two ellith did not, for their raft of slender trunks and thick branches was far too heavy.
Coming into the bright morning sunlight at the head of the stair from the shadows of the deeply cut entrance to the path leading back towards Parth Galen, Helluin and Beinvír were met with a vast panorama of the southern lands bordering Anduin. Seemingly 'neath their feet lay the vapors and pool at Rauros' base some 1,500 ft below. As they looked out from that high place with Elvish sight, they took in the course of the river with the many mouths of the Onodló upon its western banks, and the vast marshlands of the Nindalf upon its east. Beyond these, 100 miles distant, lay the curve of the river that skirted the NoMan-lands to the northeast of Mordor, and led down to Cair Andros 'twixt North Ithilien and Anórien. Thither, impossible to ignore in the east, rose the dark and jagged slopes of the Ephel Dúath, the Mountains of Shadow that fenced the western verge of the Black Land.
With a sigh Helluin tore herself from that vista, and with Beinvír walking beside her, began their descent. They soon discerned that compared with their climb up that path in S.A. 3410, the way had been much smoothed, widened, and improved during the Third Age for the passage of Gondor's troops and supplies.
"I reckon we shalt be down in under an hour," Beinvír said, glancing at the sky to check Anor's position after some ten minutes walk downhill. "'Tis well 'nigh a highway now."
"Perhaps I should have asked the captain for somewhat less time ere sending o'er the falls our raft," Helluin muttered. The possibility of a three hour wait was a delay she begrudged as time lost in reaching Osgiliath. "Three hours we could sit idle ere our collection of sticks reaches us."
"Be not so grim, meldanya," the Green Elf chided with a smile. "'Tis a fine day and we need not await the raft at the pool. T'will find us as easily three hours walk downstream as anywhere else along the river, for I deem it hath little choice of its course."
To this truth the Noldo chuckled ere agreeing, "aye, 'tis a fine day for a swim."
Even at a leisurely pace they reached the base of the stair in little o'er an hour, and after a glance back at Rauros and Tol Brandir, took the wagon track south along Anduin. For two and one-half hours they walked, covering some seven miles. They were then roughly halfway 'twixt Rauros and the northernmost mouth of the Onodló. Hither Anduin ran smoothly, both broad and deep, with some fifty fathoms 'twixt the western and eastern shores. After shedding their travel bags and cloaks they turned their sharp eyes upstream, seeking for any pieces of their raft, and preparing to swim.
'Twas some quarter hour later that they began to see branches and trunks, some loose and a few still joined, mostly far out in the stream. These they watched float past, one after another, with grim expressions…'naught worthy of the effort of retrieval did they see.
"Well, that could have gone better," Beinvír said as she sadly shook her head. She donned her cloak and picked up her travel bag.
"Aye, a bit more cooperative Rauros could have been," Helluin groaned. "Rather than a swim we have now a walk of some sixty-five leagues to Osgiliath…ahhh well."
Another hour they walked downstream, and 'twas by chance alone that the Green Elf spied 'aught most unexpected whilst staring ruefully out o'er the water. Amidst some brambles protruding from the bank floated a sad collection of sticks.
"'Tis surely a jest," she muttered, and then turning to the Noldo announced, "I believe not my eyes, yet by the Valar, we need not walk to Osgiliath."
"Huh?"
"Look thither," she said, pointing to direct her beloved's gaze, "'tis as unlikely a thing as could be, yet thither floats Dregla's treacherous and runaway…boat."
'Twas with narrowed eyes that Helluin regarded the Perian's raft ere slogging down the bank to seize it and drag it aground.
"'Tis 'naught but an insult that this…thing…should survive Rauros when our own raft did not," she spat, appraising the still pitiful collection of sticks. She could almost hear the chuckling, carried upon breezes of the spirit all the way from the Furthest West.
"'Tis faster than walking," Beinvír tentatively offered.
Helluin gave the raft a doubtful glance and said, "t'will treat us no better than its maker, I wager, and t'will be a wonder if we need not swim the last 64 leagues."
Yet after a thorough checking o'er and some remedial lashing, they set out upon Dregla's raft shortly after noon. With the weight of two rather than one of diminutive stature, the raft rode barely at the surface, with water seeping through every crack. In minutes the two were soaked to the knees, for any movement drove that part of the raft 'neath the water and tilted upwards the part opposite.
"I shalt not float into Osgiliath thus," Helluin declared. "'Twas bad enough to pass Lórinand upon our own raft. To approach the City of Kings as a pair of half-drowned rats upon a log…we should be the objects of a dozen generations' ridicule."
The Green Elf chewed her lip. Though she cared little for the appearance of dignity, especially to mortals, she knew the Men of Númenor had long memories, and judging by Captain Hathol's comments, valued dignity greatly.
"In this case, meldanya, I agree. T'would serve our cause little should we appear a laughing-stock to those we wish to aid."
Despite such sentiments, they would appear in Osgiliath just so.
They agreed to abandon the wretched craft some miles upstream from the city and arrive in Osgiliath afoot. Even so, they were the subjects of many catcalls, much pointing, and raucous laughter upon their passing of Cair Andros in the morning of their second day afloat. They drew up their cloaks, pulled their hoods o'er their heads, and replied not, hoping none would mark of what kind they were. Some forty miles later, as they came 'nigh the wood 'twixt Amon Dîn and the northern slopes of Mindolluin, they leapt from the sodden platform and watched from the bank as Dregla's raft continued south down Anduin. Towards Osgiliath and Pelargir and finally the wide Bay of Belfalas it drifted, and who upon the Hither Shores can know how far its way led, for having already survived Rauros, surely the hand of providence was upon it. Even perhaps, by the beneficence of the Lord Ulmo, it found its way 'cross the wide sea Belegaer, this sad collection of sticks, for to join upon some blessed day, the memory of those proud ships Eärrámë and Vingilot, upon a beach of whitest sand.
Once upon dry land again, Helluin would brook no delay, and so they walked through the afternoon with sodden boots. The road leading from Minas Anor to Osgiliath lay but a league ahead ere the two ellith stopped to camp for the night. They chose a spot within walking distance of the river, guarded somewhat from casual sight by an orchard upon a slight rise, and thither they set a trench fire and unpacked their gear.
"Ruined, alas, all ruined," Beinvír said as she cast aside several strips of squirrel jerky and some previously dried vegetables, "wet for too long and no longer wholesome."
She was examining their stores beside the fire whilst their clothes dried. Helluin had spread out the rest of their gear; damp ground clothes, rope, and medicinal herbs with the scent of mold growing on them. She flung the last away from their camp in disgust.
"I shalt find us a fish," she said as she stomped off towards Anduin naked.
By midnight they had eaten and some of their things had dried. The rest of their gear was now closer to the fire, its moisture being driven off. Despite fair weather and many stars, 'twas not a night of rest and pleasant memories. At first light they repacked and continued upon their way south.
Now after an hour they were upon the road that ran 'twixt Minas Anor and Osgiliath, and they found many going to and fro in both directions. From those they passed they sensed an undercurrent of unease and occasional anger. Such conversations as they o'erheard were either muted with apprehension, or raised in argument. Such attention as they themselves received was either a subtle shying away of footsteps, or furtive glances of distrust. 'Twas uncomfortable and unpleasant, but not unexpected, for the folk of Gondor were in turmoil. 'Twas 11 Nórui (June 11th), and just shy of six weeks since the coronation of Eldacar.
"I have yet to mark a smile or a word of welcome," Beinvír remarked when they had about them a space devoid of other travelers.
"Aye," the Noldo agreed. "'Tis disinterest or distrust I feel, yet either is more welcome than open hostility."
The Green Elf's eyes widened in surprise, for e'er had the Gondorim welcomed them, save perhaps the mad Queen Berúthiel.
"When we reach the city, we must be wary," Helluin added.
To Be Continued