Prince Thengel stood on the threshold and held out his hand. Fat raindrops pooled together in his palm. He blinked upward into the rolling gray clouds hanging low over the valley like uncarded fleece.
"We seem fated to travel in the rain."
"It's springtime." Cenhelm drew his hood over his forehead. "Don't take it personally."
Thengel gave his guard a wry sideways glance before they both walked into the rain from the dry warmth of the house. Cenhelm shouldered their bags and went right, crunching over the gravel yard toward the stable nestled beside the other outbuildings. Thengel cut around the left side of the house toward the orchard lane.
The silver mantle of clouds hovered heavily over the valley, dripping steadily over the groves of beech trees and staining the garden wall a deeper gray. It smelled of wet earth and moldy canvas, for there was almost as much square feet of tent as there was of sod where Halmir's men had taken over Lady Morwen's lawn as their campground. The lawn, which had been peaceful and empty the day before, now teemed with men.
Familiar faces called out morning greetings to him. The unfamiliar stared openly until he made eye contact. Then they suddenly found themselves busy with bowls of congealed oats or rifling through bags.
Thengel gritted his teeth and walked on into the rain curtain until he passed through the orchard wall where the dogs greeted him looking half their original sizes as the rain pasted their fur down. They barked loudly with unintelligible news, licked his hands, and ran on. He followed them until he found Morwen half-hidden by a tree, wearing one of her old work dresses and boots. A faded red-brown cloak and hood hung damply from her shoulders. Her long braid lay coiled inside the hood and a leaf had caught itself on her hair just behind her ear. Wisps of fine hair clung to her damp neck and cheeks.
Morwen had just climbed down the ladder and was speaking to Beldir when he and Beldir exchanged stiff, dripping nods by way of greeting.
"Forgive me for interrupting your work," he said to Morwen. "I wanted to speak to you. Would you walk with me please?"
She answered by pulling her hood up over her head and stepping out from under the tree, away from the ladder. He followed her down a line of cherry trees beginning to feel as gloomy as the weather. The rain had caused many of the beautiful petals to fall during the night. The evening didn't appear restorative to Morwen either. He had learned to read her expression better as his stay progressed, and she was in a sour mood, judging from the thin press of her lips and furrowed brows.
"Nobody's working down there." She gestured down a line of trees toward the covered dais.
"We don't have to go far," he said as she led the way. "No doubt you have much to do in the garden."
"Some of the trees have developed cankers, most likely after they were trimmed last year and spread by the same shears. Beldir thinks Gundor had that row, but I think it probably belonged to one of the miller's daughters." She rolled her eyes.
Not knowing exactly what to say, he tried to gauge what that meant for the trees from her expression. She looked as grim as before.
He coughed. "That sounds…serious?"
"It isn't too serious if we can stop its spread now. Beldir and I are debating the merits of a poultice over leaving it to the air to heal, but that probably won't interest you."
"It sounds quite interesting," he said cautiously.
She cast him a skeptical look from under the hood.
"That is, I wish I could hear the full explanation, but I am afraid my men and I will be leaving within the hour. I wanted to say goodbye and, of course, to thank you."
She turned and blinked at him. "Goodbye?"
He bowed his head. "As you are no longer lacking for guests, we plan to ride for Minas Tirith this afternoon."
"Not all of you, surely?"
"Yes, all."
Lady Morwen peered up at him from under her hood. Her expression could have leveled him. "But Guthere cannot make the journey yet. He barely lasted the afternoon in the garden. And it's likely to rain for some time. Making the trip today seems unnecessary and unwise."
Maybe he should blame residual irritation from the day before mixed with the prospect of a wet day's journey ahead of him, but her choice of words rankled Thengel's pride.
"We will travel slowly and spend the night on the road," he said with deliberate calm. "Cenhelm and I both agree it is both necessary and wise."
"Nonsense."
"Nonsense?" he asked with deliberate calm.
"Moving Guthere now will set back his health terribly," she said, her voice crisp. "Even if you fancy traveling for two days in the rain at least leave him in my care until he can ride again."
She said it so firmly he was taken back. He couldn't tell if it was an invitation or an order. He could understand if Halmir made her grumpy, but he didn't see why she should direct her ire at him.
She was in distress, he reminded himself. With a cousin like Halmir harassing her, who wouldn't be? So he settled with a lame, "You don't mind being out in the cold and the wet."
"If I don't work I don't eat, Prince Thengel," she pointed out. "And I'm not suffering from a head injury."
"No, but I don't think Guthere would like to be left alone."
She gave him a challenging look. "You might ask him."
Thengel inclined his head, partially to show agreement and partially to hide his annoyed expression. He didn't know he'd been suffering from an illusion, but there it was. He expected Morwen to maybe feel a little sad to see him go, certainly not to argue with him.
"I will ask him," he said, "but I really don't think it's best."
"He will be perfectly safe with me. We aren't that overrun."
"I never said you were," Thengel began.
"Then what are you afraid of?"
"Well…" Bema, she wouldn't make it easy for him, "Inconveniencing you, of course."
Thengel wondered how she hadn't moved a muscle, and yet she seemed to have stepped away from him. Her eyes rounded into wide gray circles and her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Had it been an inconvenience I would have told you. It is not," she said coldly. "You came to me for help. Now we have to consider what is best for Guthere."
But would it be in her power for much longer? Thengel wondered. Still, she didn't look like backing down and it truly would be healthier for Guthere to remain where he was. Possibly healthier for Thengel too, for the young woman had a stormy expression of her own.
Thengel slowly realized his mistake. When he told her that they were making room for her other guests, he had insulted her by questioning her hospitality, to the extent that they would drag a sick man into poor weather conditions rather than stay. And probably he had poorly masked his dislike for her cousin. Her abrupt manners, he thought, was a shield to keep him at a distance.
"I don't mean to criticize your hospitality, Lady Morwen. I would like to stay, if I could. As it is, I have neglected my duties in Minas Tirith for some time and must return."
"Of course," was all she said.
They stood regarding one another in silence. Thengel decided to begin again. "I see I've upset you," he said. "I hope you'll forgive me for anything I've said. Though I can't help but notice that your manner toward me is different this morning. Is there something else I have done? Be frank. After all, I think we've become friends by now."
"Frank?" She looked at him squarely as if gauging whether or not he meant it. After a long moment, she spoke. "Then tell me, are you really leaving for business or because of my family?"
His expression gave away the answer.
Lady Morwen pressed her fingers into her eyes. "I knew you would be disgusted with us."
"Us?" he asked. "You don't think I would lump you in with Halmir and his brother? You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's the rest of us who behaved out of turn."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Lord Halmir and I had an unpleasant conversation and as a result I confess I behaved discourteously toward him," he said. "I should apologize for my loss of temper, specifically in the wetting of your cousin. As he is also your guest, I ought to have treated him with more courtesy."
Where she had been cold before, her eyes were flashing now. "If you must apologize, it should be to Halmir, not to me. I can't say I'm sorry at all," she said heatedly.
Thengel bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning at her sudden fierceness. He liked it when it wasn't directed at him.
"And I have the feeling that Halmir provoked it," she mused. "Won't you tell me what you talked about?"
Thengel remained silent while he thought over what to tell her. "I made the mistake, my lady," he said eventually, "of supposing Halmir and Hundor were cut from the same cloth as their elder brother. I was mistaken. I offered to help them where help was not wanted."
She gave him a blank look.
"I offered to help them find stations among Ecthelion's officers, for their brother's sake," he said. "The invitation was declined."
Morwen paused, stunned. "You mean they didn't want to join the defense in Ithilien."
"They have no sense of duty," he said before he could stop himself.
Certainly serving as officers under the Steward's captain in Ithilien would provide an honorable outlet for two young men of few resources and noble birth. Unless an outlet presented itself that required fewer deprivations and greater safety.
Morwen reflected, "You're wrong, Prince Thengel. Halmir and Hundor have a strong sense of duty — to themselves."
Thengel scrutinized her for a moment and then an uncomfortable thought entered his mind.
"Are you safe from Halmir?"
She looked surprised, then grave.
"Morwen?"
She gave him a strange look. "I think so," she said, "Yes of course. Beldir pointed out this morning, rightly, that we need only tolerate this until he grows bored and returns to Arnach." She smiled not very kindly. "Patience isn't one of Halmir's virtues and I am certain he won't stay long."
Thengel was relieved to hear that she sounded optimistic, if grimly so. Of course she could handle herself. He just needed to get out of her way.
There seemed little more to be said and the hour of Thengel's departure drew nearer, weighting the silence that fell.
"I'm happy to know you, Morwen," he said candidly. "I'm sorry your festival didn't go as planned, but for what it's worth, the valley does you credit. We have had a very comfortable time here."
"I'm glad," she replied, sounding much more like herself, "though I wish your travels had gone better. I've never made anyone's acquaintance over a cracked skull before."
Thengel laughed, despite the rain and foul moods. "I hope for everyone's sake it is the last time."
"Agreed."
They shook hands. Hers felt small in his, but strong of grip, calloused and remarkably grubby. She could be imperious as a princess and earthy as a farm hand. He smiled at the odd mixture.
She noticed him studying her hand and gently pulled it away, though she didn't apologize for the dirt.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Nothing." But then he decided to add, "Only, I've observed that those who aren't afraid of hard work are better equipped to meet trouble when it comes."
"Is that a prophecy?" she asked.
Thengel shook his head. "Knowledge tempered by experience."
"Ah." She pulled her cloak more firmly around her shoulders as the wind picked up. "Goodbye, Thengel. Maybe we will see you again when Guthere has improved."
"I'll be back, provided he doesn't ride off on his own in a fit of boredom."
She smiled a little then, which made him feel extremely gratified. And another thought occurred to him.
"If you need help — anything at all before I return for Guthere — you can ask my friend Adan. He is trustworthy."
Morwen nodded. "Thank you, but what more can Halmir possibly do? Embarrass me, yes. Annoy me, definitely. But this will probably all blow over with the rain. He might be in Arnach again by the time you reach Minas Tirith. I doubt there is much more to worry about."
Thengel hoped so, too, as he threaded his way back through the orchard. Still, he would make a point to find Adan before he rode off with Thurstan, Gladhon, and Cenhelm. Thengel didn't know what sort of a strategist Halmir might be, but he knew a man didn't shift five score axmen around the countryside only to give in after two days.
...
Adan met Thengel at the stable door where a lot of other men were milling around. Gladhon already waited in the yard, tying on the last of his belongings to his saddle.
"Taking off, then?" Adan said.
"That's right." Thengel passed him inside.
He looked around and spotted Cenhelm and Thurstan conferring over a bag of food Thurstan had collected from the kitchen.
"No Guthere?" Thurstan asked.
"No," Thengel answered.
Cenhelm grunted. "Mollycoddling has gone to his head. He won't be fit for anything soon enough."
Thengel shrugged. "Once he's on his feet Lady Morwen won't tolerate a sluggard."
"That is true," Thurstan said ruefully. "I thought climbing trees would pass the time easily. Now my back aches and my feet still feel the ladder rungs."
Thengel clapped him on the back. "Then you've earned your keep." Then his voice turned grim. "You'll forget all about it once we reach Minas Tirith."
He made a sign for Adan to follow him down the aisle to his horse's stall. Rochagar sidled in his stall, anxious to join the other horses now leaving their boxes for the open yard.
"Listen, Adan," Thengel said, grabbing a brush. "As you've heard, Guthere will remain here until he can ride on his own."
"We'll look after him," Adan told him. He offered Thengel the saddle pad once he finished brushing down Rochagar.
Thengel folded the saddle pad over the horse's back, saying, "Lady Morwen's household will do well enough for him. It's Halmir who needs to be watched. If Lady Morwen needs help I want you to do what you can for her. That's an official order. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'll answer for you if the lordlings give you trouble."
Adan brought Thengel the saddle. "I know, sir."
"Oh, and another thing," Thengel said as he placed the saddle on Rochagar's back and looped the tie strap. "Don't tell her that you're on the lookout. I think she would find it…"
"Patronizing?"
"Yes." Thengel reached for the bridle.
"I won't say a word unless I have to."
Thengel nodded. "Thank you, Adan. I know I can rely on you."
"Remember that when you're back in Ithilien."
Thengel latched his travel bag onto the saddle, then he clasped Adan's hand one last time and led his horse out into the dooryard. He disliked the scrutiny of so many unfamiliar men and wondered again if he let Cenhelm talk him into making a mistake leaving Morwen alone with a gang of bullies. It didn't seem fair.
And yet, Morwen had provided a means for him to return if it came down to it - whether she knew it or not. Maybe she did? For a second he contemplated the possibility that she knew keeping Guthere would allow her to see Thengel again, had arranged it, even.
He tamped down that thought. Morwen was a practical woman, after all, and rather too young for him. Capable, independent, pretty, but Gondorian. Why was he entertaining that thought anyhow?
He needed Minas Tirith and a dose of reality. Without Guthere slowing them down, he would get both by nightfall.
...
AN: Thank you for reading! Sorry for the length of time between posts. Busy life is busy.