Chapter 89

Late the following day and to my great disgust a mounted messenger arrived from Lastbridge carrying an order commanding the release of Fodric of Northford. He was summarily sent back the way he had come with the news that the Prisoner had already been executed after being judged guilty of murder. I knew that Turchon's and my own standing in Lastbridge would now be even lower and the whole episode left me dismayed at just how influential and well connected Fodric had clearly become. However when his affairs were set in order it became clear that little actual wealth remained to him, in Bearcliffe at least. It seemed he too had suffered as a result of the straightened times we were all living in, perhaps more than most since his main paymaster would have been the treasury of Rhudaur, which was now largely empty. I had not personally given any thought to the possibility that I might benefit from`Fodric's death, but as Turchon pointed out in theory at least ownership of the carting business would revert to me as the heir of the rightful owner. I did not have long to consider the possibility of any change for the better in my station and fortune though, as a another message soon arrived from Lastbridge announcing that all Fodric's goods, his carts, men and beasts, had been requisitioned to the service of the King. For some men that might have been cause for great bitterness, but I had not sought that which had been taken from me and in truth I knew little other than my current life as a soldier. The thought of finding myself removed from everything I knew, however many hardships that entailed, and having to try to make my way alone in the world as a merchant or trader filled me with dismay.

So, with any chance of betterment gone I remained in Bearcliffe for the next three years as Turchon's right hand man, and we soon became fast friends. During that time the situation in the town and the country at large grew increasingly desperate and disordered, and if it were not for the supplies that were sent down the Vale of the White River during the harsh winters from High Burgh many would have starved to death. I only had occasion to visit Lastbridge a handful of times in those years and neither saw nor had any news of Idhrethil during that time. And when I attempted to exercise my right to enter the citadel and visit the library I found my way barred at the gatehouse, for while the King still lived his malady worsened and it seemed his influence waned with it. I began to fear that I would never see her again, but the thought that somewhere she might be drawing strength from the knowledge that I lived and loved her still gave me some comfort in those dark days.

Finally in the Spring of 1340 the news we had all anticipated for a long time reached us, that King Elion of Rhudaur had finally died of his long illness. Preparations were immediately put in place for Lord Turchon to travel south to attend the burial, and presumably the crowning that would follow it. I had assumed, since I was not named in the message requiring his attendance that I would remain in Bearcliffe and deputise for him, something which disappointed me somewhat. For not only had I found myself liking this King who had shown me some favour, but there was always the possibility I might see my love again, even if it were only from a distance. Turchon however was insistent that I should accompany him, especially so when news reached us that the Chieftain of the Hillmen was travelling from High Burgh with a party that would reach us in two days time. We set to making preparations for the arrival of our esteemed guest and the journey that would follow, and on the day of his arrival I was sent up the road to the Boundary Stone to meet him and his party and did him the courtesy of greeting him in his own tongue.

He came on foot, well clothed in good gear like his predecessor and accompanied by small guard of about two dozen, more than matched by the number that had marched there with me. I greeted him formally and he responded in the correct manner but without warmth, perhaps deeming me too young to treat with him on an equal footing just as his brother had in Northford. Brodir was like in appearance and manner to Daelric, and like him I could see why his men would love him and wish to do his bidding. Since his installation as Chieftain he had professed loyalty to the king, the Shaws had remained quiet with its people apparently keeping their own counsel, but if what Argeleb had told me regarding the commerce across the fords was true then his loyalty lay elsewhere and he was playing us all false. I pondered on this as my men and I formed an honour guard and led him down into Bearcliffe. News of his arrival had spread rapidly and by the time we reached the walls the road was lined at least half a dozen deep with cheering townsfolk, many of them praising the man who had saved them with his generosity when their own rulers had ignored their plight.

We climbed the steep way up to the Keep, eventually leaving the crowds behind us, and I led him to the Great Hall as arranged to be received by Turchon. They had met many times before and greeted each other with some familiarity and mutual respect before retiring to Turchon's private apartments for a dinner. I then oversaw the arrangements for his guards and returned to the task of preparing for my own departure on the morrow.

Later that evening, knowing that I would not have the opportunity to do so again for a while I ascended the great tower at dusk to watch and think. The great bear rock still loomed above me, but it was close and familiar now, streaked with water and moss and precarious terraces of vegetation towards its crown. Overhead the first stars were twinkling into life and in the still air mist was beginning to gather in pockets over the Hoarwell, and the smokes of many fires across and outside the town climbed and hung like pillars in the still air. To the north in the gathering dark lay the land of my birth, and to the south Lastbridge the woman who I had loved and lost, and I had gazed with pain and longing in both directions many times, thinking on what was and what could have been. Tonight I felt uneasy, for with the death of the King it seemed that matters had finally come to a head, and many things would now change, perhaps not for the better. Firstly there was the matter of the succession, with the male heir lost, and no clear successor otherwise. There was the Princess of course, and there was precedent for a woman to take the crown in the traditions of Numenor, but it had never to my knowledge been allowed to happen since the downfall and exile. I recoiled at the thought of such a sweet and gentle creature as Elien being thrust into the centre of power, something for which she was totally unsuited by nature and which I knew would only bring her pain and unhappiness. Aside of her several might make claim to the throne, since all the great Dunedain families of Rhudaur had by necessity intermarried frequently down the years, and it had seemed that every man of rank was another's cousin. Even my old friend Daeron, who I had not seen for so long and missed bitterly might justly put himself forward in such a situation, and with him some hope for the future might indeed be rekindled, but I knew we were far more likely to end up with the likes of Berthedir taking the crown. Dismayed at this last thought, and with the cool night air of late spring eating suddenly into my bones I took one last look around and descended, little suspecting that it would be the last time I would ever stand in that place, for my unease was well founded, and the terrible events that would change the courses of all our lives were just about to unfold.