Chapter 6 The Gift

GIMINZIL had to stop herself from bursting out of the carriage when it pulled over to the roadside in front of Center Tavern. Daira climbed down from next to the driver of the carriage and opened the carriage door.

"Daira, stay here and make sure no one comes near this carriage. I need to go see a healer," Giminzil whispered to her maid.

The maid shook her head. "No, mistress. I go see healer. Guards I handle, but if your father want see Zoreth, I cannot disobey."

That made sense, so Giminzil stepped out of the carriage once Daira left. Servants were unleashing the horses to change them for the fresh ones. She called one of the servants.

"Please go tell my father that my nurse has fallen asleep. I am going to stretch my legs around here until she wakes and will join him shortly." With that Giminzil sent the servants away so that they, too, could rest and eat.

When she was sure that the servants left them alone, she went back inside the carriage to check on the man. His eyes were shut tight.

"Are you in a lot of pain?"

The man did not answer. Giminzil took hold of his hand. It was cold and damp.

She should have asked for more medicine when she stopped by the infirmary before leaving the palace. But, she had only asked for herbs for pain, complaining of headache. She had not wanted to garner any attention.

"Hold on," Giminzil whispered as she squeezed his hand.

Unsure what to do for him, she wiped the beads of sweat on his forehead. Zoreth and Daira had braided and coiled his long hair in a style favored by the older women, but somehow it went well with the thickly painted and powdered face. He looked very different from what she remembered, but he could have passed for a beauty.

She had always imagined them meeting again, but she had never expected their second meeting to be so dramatic. It was even more so than their first. For a long time, she had wondered who he was, and had regretted not having asked her brother before he left for his voyages.

In her daydreams, he always arrived riding a white horse, revealing that he is some great lord. He would be intelligent and fascinating, not at all like those empty-headed courtiers at the King's Court.

Giminzil fingered the man's eyebrows. The reality was never like the daydreams, but here he was, more closer to what she had dreamed than not. He was even a great lord. Well, at least a grandson of the one who is considered a great lord by many.

Carefully, she bent over him to take a closer look. There was a lot of paste covering his face, but he really did have a great bone structure. So pretty.

Suddenly, the carriage door flung open. Giminzil jumped.

Someone barged into the carriage. Giminzil opened her mouth to scream, but the man grabbed her, covering her mouth with his hand.

Giminzil's eyes widened when she saw the face. He held his other hand over his mouth in a gesture of silence.

"Abrazan!" Giminzil threw herself onto her brother lowering her voice. "How did you get here? Why are you here?"

"I have been waiting for you and…" he turned to the dressed and powdered man lying on the seat.

"Where is Isildur? Daira said he is here. Who's she?"

Giminzil pointed to the man in the woman's dress.

Abrazan raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.

"We don't have much time, Silmë."

"I know. This is him. We had to disguise him."

Abrazan's face took on a strange look.

"He is hurt badly, brother. I don't know what to do."

Giminzil pulled up the top and showed her brother the wound. Abrazan's face turned dark and stony.

Her brother picked up Isildur. "I am going to take him to the healer I brought. Stall father. I didn't expect you to arrive this early. Zoreth is not here yet. I sent her to someone who can bring her here, but she is old and cannot ride. If possible, convince father to stay the night here."

"You know father does not like to sleep anywhere other than his own bed."

"Father cannot know about this, Silmë. Convince him. He listens to you. I'll see you at Romenna."

Abrazan stepped out. Giminzil stopped him, then handed him a small pouch.

"He came for this." She handed the fruit to her brother.

"Is this?"

"Nimloth's fruit. He risked much for it."