As Old as the World
No sooner had we left the alley that had led us to the stranger's warehouse than Gimli stopped. For a moment he seemed indecisive, then he said, "We should get the others. This isn't going the way I planned."
"That's a good idea, my friend," said a voice behind us. I winced so hard I almost bumped into Legolas' chest. How he had appeared behind us so suddenly was a mystery to me. Gimli also wheeled around. There was no sign of the other two. "By my beard, Legolas," the dwarf hissed. And once he had taken a deep breath, he asked, "How did you find us?"
"I just know you too well, Gimli," the Elf said, avoiding looking at me. "And I caught a glimpse of the paper when you snatched it from the innkeeper."
Gimli shook his head with a laugh. "And I thought you hadn't gotten there until I had it safely tucked away." He ran his hand over his beard before adding, "Where are your appendages?"
"Beleg and I were able to convince Galadhon that we could find you faster if we split up." The elf inclined his head. "I guessed you must have had a good reason for leaving without us - and taking Aspen with you. Tell me: did you find the third part?"
When I didn't respond, because Legolas' presence had silenced me, Gimli said, "No. We were, if I may say so, fairly unfortunate. We should have gone to the family immediately, for their son decided not long ago that he wanted the stone back, having already sold it to the vendor. By the time GrĂ³r got to the trader, it was already too late."
"How is that possible? You said earlier he came from a family of little means?" the Elf asked.
"Yes," said Gimli, letting the word hang in the air for an instant. "That is the problem."
Legolas didn't reply, but he didn't have to. All three of us knew what that meant: someone had been faster than us. Someone had learned of our quest and was hot on our heels. "Does he still have it?" Legolas looked back and forth between me and Gimli. "Or is it lost?"
"We do not know," Gimli replied. "But what we know is where to find him. We just have to get back to our dodgy shelter. If I may guess, the one we're looking for is one of the men who sat there entangled with their tankard of ale."
"By the Valar," Legolas muttered. "Fate really does seem to be against us. Come then, quickly."
Since our conversation with the vendor, Esgaroth had come to life. The streets and walkways were bustling with activity, so it shouldn't have been difficult for us to blend in. But the opposite was true: we stood out like a fox in a henhouse. People's glances followed us until we were back in the tavern. Inside, not much had changed: The innkeeper was still gone, and except for the one remaining man, who by now was lying with his head on the tabletop, there was no one to be seen.
Gimli reared up beside the table, grabbed the man by the collar and shook him. "Elmer?" he asked, his tone stern. "Elmer, the fisherman's son?"
A groan told us the man had woken up. With bloodshot eyes, he looked at the dwarf first, then at Legolas and me. The vendor had been right: He looked like he drank excessively on a regular basis. Something I had never done, neither in my old world nor in the new.
"Yes?" the man managed after two fruitless attempts. "Who are you and what do you want from me?"
Legolas stepped up beside Gimli. "You have something we need. Are you still in possession of the stone?"
Elmer's eyes widened. I saw the fear in them and knew that was not a good sign. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I think you know perfectly well." Gimli gripped the man's collar tighter. "A little birdie told me that you prefer to invest your newly acquired wealth in spirits."
Again, the fisherman's son's gaze darted back and forth between dwarf and elf until it lingered on me. "He said you would come." I frowned, but said nothing back. "And he said that if that happened, I should tell you that you are too late."
Gimli gave an impatient huff. "Stop speaking in riddles."
From outside we heard the shouts of people. They sounded frantic, as if something had happened. But I was too focused on the fisherman's son to pay much attention to them. There was always something happening in towns like Esgaroth, it didn't have to have anything to do with us. "What do you mean - too late? Did you lose it or resell it?"
Instead of an answer, the young man just grinned at me. Gimli's grip on his collar tightened so much that the smile was instantly wiped off his face. "Talk, kid."
The shouts grew louder, more restless. I glanced quickly to the door, but nothing could be seen through the stained glass. So I focused again on the fisherman's son. "It's too late..." he whispered. "You're already here."
"Too late for what?" My voice sounded urgent.
Then chaos broke loose outside.
The moment Gimli let go of the man and Legolas rushed to the door, my eyes fell on the tabletop. On it was not only the beer mug, but also a drawing. While I looked at it, time seemed to stop. The sheet was the closest thing to what one would call a family photo in my world. It was worn and old, its corners creased. Elmer must have had it with him all the time as he emptied cup after cup. Staring at it, as I was now.
And all at once the scales fell from my eyes. They had his family. That's what the vendor had meant by the far too high price he had payed. Elmer had been sitting here in the pub, drowning his pain in alcohol. But not only that... the vendor had tried to warn us, he had tried to make us understand that we should not stay in Esgaroth any longer than absolutely necessary, because the fisherman's son was not just a victim. He was also a perpetrator.
"It's a trap!" Legolas' voice reached me as if through a curtain. For a heartbeat I stood still as if transfixed in front of Elmer, then everything happened very quickly. The fisherman's son leapt forward, grabbed me by the forearm, and pulled me toward him. Surprised by his attack, I staggered in the direction in which he had yanked me. I felt him turn me around and only a second later the edge of a knife was at my throat.
"We can cut this short," he said close to my ear, but loud enough for Gimli and Legolas to hear. Elf and Dwarf had not seen Elmer's quick thinking coming any more than I had, yet Legolas had managed to draw his knife. "Put it down," said the fisherman's son in my back. "Or her throat will get to know my blade a little better."
Legolas' gaze was murderous. He pierced Elmer with such ferocity that it sent chills down my spine. But he did what the man asked of him. As soon as he would let go of me, however, the days of the fisherman's son would be numbered. This seemed clear not only to me, but also to Elmer, who began to walk slowly backward. "Give me the other stones and no one will get hurt," he said as we moved inch by inch toward the door. "I don't want to hurt you," he continued, addressing me, "but I want to see my sisters again."
So I had been right. I had to swallow. In doing so the blade nicked my skin and blood leaked out. Legolas' gaze broke away from the fisherman's son for a brief instant, jumped to my throat and back again. And before Elmer could even voice another demand, the elf attacked. He was far too fast for me to follow his movements with the knife at my throat. One moment Legolas had been standing in front of us, the next the blade thudded to the ground.
Then I was free.
Gimli grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me out of the danger zone. Just as I turned around, I heard Elmer plead, "Please, I had no choice, I..." He gave a strangled yelp as now he was the one with a knife to his throat. I wasn't sure how far Legolas would go, so I said, "We need him alive, or we'll never find the third piece."
Only now did I remember the chaos that was still raging outside. The surprised cries had given way to the noise of battle. Gimli and Legolas noticed this as well. The dwarf crossed the empty taproom in three strides and glanced out the door. "Orcs."
"They came for him," Legolas said, increasing the pressure of his knife on Elmer's throat. The latter shook his head, careful not to let the Elven weapon do to his skin what his blade had done to mine. "They have come for her," he said.
Gimli gave him an angry look. "Because you betrayed us."
"No!" He swallowed; I could see his Adam's apple standing out beneath his tightly stretched skin. "You don't understand…"
"Then enlighten us," Gimli said as he pushed one of the tables in front of the tavern door. "And make it quick."
For an instant longer, the fisherman's son hesitated. His eyes darted back and forth between me, the blocked door, and Gimli. But finally he gave up, "I didn't know she has the stones. But it makes sense. He spoke of a woman carrying the remaining fragments. They lost your trail in the Elven Forest, but they knew you were coming here - because of my grandmother. They waited and... wanted to take the heirloom from me."
"The third piece of stone," I said.
"Yes," he nodded again, more vigorously this time. Legolas had given him a little more leeway. "They took my youngest sisters and told me that I would only see them again if I let them know immediately if you asked for me."
"So you did betray us." Gimli's voice was more of a growl. The dwarf's eyes glittered so dangerously that I had to swallow. I had never seen him so infuriated.
"What would you have done in my place?" Elmer looked at him, his eyes wide with fear again. Only now did I notice that he was still very young, in his early twenties at most, more likely younger. Still half a child, even though children in Middle Earth often had to grow up very quickly. And although he had held a blade to my throat only a few minutes ago, I felt sorry for him. I remembered well how I had been in my early twenties: I had thought myself incredibly grown up. Reliable. My degree within reach. I wanted to prove myself. Show that I could take responsibility. When I thought about how confident I had been back then and how much everything had changed in the years that followed. How much I had changed and was still changing. I bit my lip. Only old people talked like that, I'm sure I would have thought like that back then. And maybe that's what I was by now: old. At least from Elmer's perspective. But precisely because I still knew what it was like to be twenty-three, I let the situation rest.
"Let him go, Legolas." The Elf looked at me as if I had asked him to cut off Gimli's beard. But I meant it. "Now."
Hesitantly, he lowered the knife until Elmer relaxed. I looked at the fisherman's son, catching his gaze until I was sure he was listening to me and not looking for the next escape route.
"You did what you thought was best. And I can't tell you if you'll see your sisters again. What I can assure you, however, is that you will not leave this city alive if you run into the orcs. If you tell us what exactly you know, we will take you to safety. That's all I can offer you."
He looked at me for a minute, holding his breath, before replying, "All right." And then, after putting some distance between himself and Legolas, who was still keeping a very close eye on him, he continued, "There were two... two figures, cloaked in black. I cannot tell if they were men, but their voices sounded cruel. They knew everything about my grandmother: she spent her life telling me about a world unlike ours, even taught me one of her languages. As a child, I couldn't get enough of it, of those stories and of that language. It sounded so beautiful when my Nonna would sing my siblings and me to sleep."
He had lost himself in the memory, I could see that quite clearly. And I could understand him: Italian was a wonderful language, I was sure his grandmother had taught him as best she could.
"The figures demanded to give them the stone, but I knew that it had been Nonna's greatest treasure. I did not want to give it to them. They offered me gold and gems, but the more they pushed me, the less I wanted to do it." He paused for a minute. "I entrusted myself to my uncle, and he convinced me to accept the offer. So I set up a meeting to make the exchange. But something went wrong: My uncle had put a fake stone in the bag without me noticing. He guessed that the fragment was worth quite a bit more than the strangers wanted to give away. So I took their gold and they took the fake stone."
I already suspected where Elmer's story was going, but I allowed him to finish.
"They came in the night," he whispered. "They cut the throats of my entire family and left only me and my sisters alive. They said I had to right the wrong or they too would end up like the rest. So I found out who my uncle had sold the real stone to and begged the vendor to give it back to me in exchange for most of the gold I had taken. He did."
He broke off as if what followed now would be one of his worst memories. For Gimli he took too long, "So, did you let them have the stone?"
Elmer lowered his eyes. "I meant to."
"You meant to?"
"Yes," he said quietly. "I always carried it with me, in my chest pocket. The night before the agreed meeting, I drank... as I had every night since..." He faltered. Collected himself. "That night I must not have found my way back home. I woke up the next morning on a pier at the far end of town. And the stone was gone."
By now I was sure that Elmer's sisters were gone too but I didn't want to say that. How likely was it that the strangers had let them live after the fisherman's son had lost the piece of stone? Very unlikely. But they had taken advantage of his hope to use him as their spy.
Gimli snorted. "A truly fitting happenstance. Are you sure it took place like that, or are you just telling this story to stir up some tears?"
The fisherman's son was still looking down at the ground, his index finger scratching the inside of his thumb. "I saw the person who took it from me."
"Oh, did you?" The dwarf leaned forward. "And what might he have looked like?"
Elmer's gaze flickered over to Legolas for a heartbeat before he answered, addressing him, "He had dark hair and moved as feline as you. I thought it was a dream because his face was as old as the world and as young as mine. But maybe it wasn't. Maybe he was one of you."
"An elf?" asked Gimli.
"Yes," said the fisherman's son. "An elf."
