Rosmarin’s arrival was neither unlooked for nor concealed. She, and the Rangers accompanying her, rode openly without attempt to hide their presence. They were stark against the snowy land. Still, for all of that, the Lady of Cardolan did not arrive with banners unfurled. Aside from the silver roses that pinned the Ranger’s thick winter cloaks, there was little at all to announce her identity. For instance, she did not come in gilded carriage as some of the Company had supposed and as a result, the chief architect of that particular rumour made a tidy sum when the wagers came due. Wulgof was busy counting his winnings and reflecting on the gullible natures of new recruits, by which he meant anyone who signed on after he had, whilst Molguv peered over the heads of the Company men that had gathered to watch the Lady’s arrival.
”Hmmmm,” Molguv rumbled, able to see clearly despite the attempts age had made to bow his height, ”That’s interesting.”
“What is?” Khule asked, unable to see overly much for the press, but Molguv did not answer immediately.
Wulgof stashed his winnings and looked up at the Haradian, ”Well? Answer the Easterling! What’s interesting?”
Molguv shook his head thoughtfully, ”You’ll see.”
“Useful as ever,” Wulgof muttered, dissatisfied, but Khule was not content to merely complain.
He slipped forward, moving reasonably agilely despite his years, into the press. Wulgof scowled as the Easterling’s silvered head vanished from sight. Age had turned him in a piece of wizened leather left out in the sun too long but it was different for the other two. Khule became increasingly distinguished to the point that nearly half the Company (the Easterling half) bowed and scraped and deferred to him as if he were the Lady of Cardolan. As for Molguv, he still carried enough bulk to draw a certain gravitas. His inclination to fall asleep on the spot meant that the Company men had learnt to keep a wide berth of the Haradian if only to avoid being crushed beneath his suddenly comatose form. Wulgof, though, well as per usual the mounting years had not be kind and it only served to prove the Dunlending’s belief that in general, life was just not fair.
Molguv turned away and set off down the row of tents. Wulgof scurried after him by instinct alone. A quick check over his shoulder confirmed that the men were scattering too. He followed the Haradian all the way back to the tent they shared. Inside was a brazier that Molguv had purportedly won a few nights ago in a game of dice at the Forsaken Inn…even though the Company men had strict orders to stay well clear of the Inn. Wulgof had a theory of his own about how Molguv had come by the brazier but as the proprietor of the Inn had yet to complain about theft, he had no choice but to accept the Haradian’s explanation. In any case, he was content to let the matter rest for the brazier brought welcome respite from the damnable cold that infested Arnor this time of year.
”What we need,” Molguv announced as he shouldered into the warm interior, ”Are carpets. Perhaps a hanging or two for the tent walls.”
Wulgof snorted with contempt for the idea but the Haradian was not so easily put off, ”We’re going further north and it’s only going to get colder. You’ll be whining and sniveling like the greenest recruit without a few more necessary…items.”
“I’m not carrying carpets, or hangings,” Wulgof announced flatly and crouched by the brazier to feed it more wood.
Wulgof groaned as he lowered himself down to sit on his dry, warm bedroll and asked, ”Who said anything about carrying?”
The Dunlending squinted over at him, ”Good luck getting near those wagons Berlas brought up with him. He won’t let anyone near ‘em and he keeps them guarded – day and night. The man’s as prickly about those wagons as I’ve ever seen him!”
“There’s a way,” Molguv persisted, ”There always is.”
“Even if there is, as soon as we get them on there they’ll vanish. Nothing’s safe from the mob of thieves this Company is.”
Molguv tapped the side of his nose and smiled mysteriously at Wulgof, ”Not if the wagons continue to be guarded.”
The Haradian’s smile grew as Wulgof considered the elegance of the notion. They’d have the most comfortable tent in all the Company and they deserved it. No one had served longer than they, except Videgavia and Videgavia had up and disappeared on them. Wulgof nodded appreciatively and then shivered violently as Khule pushed into the tent, admitting a spear of icy air as he did so.
The Easterling bore down on the brazier and held his hands over the guttering flames for warmth, teeth chattering. As he rubbed at his chilled, aching hands, he glanced over to where Mulgov was stretched out and nodded.
”Interesting indeed. We’ll have to do something about that.”
“I know,” the Haradian rumbled.
”What? Do something about what?” Wulgof demanded, eyes bouncing between the other two men in the tent.
Khule speculated, ”Though for the life of me, I cannot understand why Farbarad has not done something already.”
“The Wolf may not know Doc carries Naiore Dannan's sword.”
At the mention of that cursed name, Wulgof turned his head and spat on the bare earth he squatted upon.
”Hanasian ought never have given her that thing,” Wulgof grumbled, ”Not like she needed the thing anyway. We already knew what she could do with a set of knives by then.”
“None of that changes the fact that she carries it with her now,” Khule said, unwilling to reopen that old debate between them, ”And if the Moricarni realise the woman who leads the campaign against them carries their dead mistress’ sword…”
Khule knew he need not finish the statement and for a moment there was grim silence in the tent as the Dirty Three considered their various options.
”Going to be a hell of thing to get it off her,” Wulgof declared and the other two men nodded.
But then Molguv smiled, ”Then again, it will be a case of long overdue justice. Won’t it Khule?”
A smile flickered over Khule’s face at the Haradian’s question. So many years ago, a certain waif had dared rob them in broad daylight even though they’d tried to lend her assistance. And now…well now it was time to turn the tables on her.
’When?” Khule asked, ”Tonight?”
Molguv and Wulgof nodded in agreement and Wulgof added, ”She’ll get the inspection out of the way first, then serve up the details on our next assignment tonight. It’ll have to be late.”
“Excellent,” Molguv declared as he stretched out on his bedroll, ”Time for a nap, then.”
There wasn’t, really, for the camp inspection was sure to begin imminently and the Dirty Three knew that Doc would be thorough. Still, the Haradian employed his knack for instantaneous sleep and was snoring within the minute of his announcement.
Wulgof eyed Khule while Molguv thundered away and, after a while, asked, ”How did she look to you?”
Khule withdrew his hands from the brazier and tucked them under his arms, ”Tall and fair.”
“Of course she was! She’s been like that since we first clapped eyes on her!”
“She’s made herself into a weapon, Wulgof. That’s how she seemed to me. All steel and deadly promise. A beautiful weapon to match the one that swings from her hip.”
Khule’s tone sounded as sad as it was pensive and the Easterling seemed lost in his thoughts for a while before he shook his head. Wulgof watched the Easterling’s dark eyes sharpen again.
”She’s become what we shaped her to be,” he said softly and Wulgof’s mouth turned down at the corners.
”You know,” he admitted solemnly, ”Somehow I don’t think that’s a good thing.”
Rin knew from the way Berlas’ smile was plastered to his face that he was taken aback. It had been years since she had seen the former Ithilien Ranger and so she guessed that her appearance must come as a shock to him. Well, she thought, if Berlas had six children to rear alone, a realm to manage, a kingdom to keep tabs on for the king and a military campaign to run all at once, he might look a bit different too. She strode towards him, hand outstretched to grasp his forearm despite his widened eyes and frozen smile. Berlas managed to recover his composure as she closed her gauntleted hand around his arm.
”Well met,” she murmured sardonically as she peered past his shoulder to the growing knot of men, ”This is them, then? All of them?”
“Aye, Doc,” Berlas said as he released her armoured forearm and turned about to face the camp, ”Well over four hundred of us.”
“Will it be enough?” she asked and Berlas shrugged.
”You tell me, Doc. You’re the one who knows what’s planned.”
Rin cut Berlas a sidelong glance, well aware that the fine art of guessing what the next orders might be had not perished amongst the Company since she had left its ranks.
Still, she let the statement slide and instead muttered, ”An old habit – talking to myself.”
“I imagine even you have to talk to someone sensible,” Berlas answered and leaned back to grin at Farbarad where the Ranger stood close to hand.
Rin looked over to the Forsaken Inn a moment, ”Loch’s in there, I take it?”
“Aye.”
“Then let’s get this inspection out of the way before he can do anything further about it,” Rin declared, displaying her cynicism in a wide streak for Berlas.
”As you wish, your Grace,” Berlas replied, testing the waters to see what else had changed in the woman he had once known quite well.
Rin merely rolled her eyes and advanced towards the camp, hands clasped at her back and her cloak flapping at her heels. Berlas hurried to fall into step beside her and decided that, in short, mostly everything had changed about Doc. From the chain mail and armour she openly wore without complaint and, from all appearances comfortably, to her mannerisms and perspective on the world around them. As they went, he noted her keen eyes missed nothing. They were mostly grey in the light of early afternoon and he wondered if that still meant that she was deep in thought.
Men, including his sergeants, scattered at their approach and Berlas hoped his officers had the sense to alert the other men that inspection was imminent. He wondered what his officers would make of the woman by his side. She had never been what anyone might describe as a conventional member of the nobility. He wondered if that had changed since she had come to reside in Annuminas. Certainly her rank was elevated in Arnor above all others aside from the King and his heirs. The commonfolk, fondly, had taken to referring to her as the Queen of the North when they thought no one was listening. He knew she was frantically busy, rarely at home, constantly on the move and traveling. When she was done here, she was due down in Tharbad to formally open the new bridge.
Berlas glanced surreptitiously at her pale hair again and for a second time he found himself startled. The delicate golden hue he had known it to be was gone and in its place now was unmistakeable silver. Despite the fact she’d been ahorse for days on end to reach them here, it still shone in the sunlight, but with none of that golden glow. Her silver hair, coupled with her youthful Dunedain features rendered her beauty almost uncanny and otherworldly and perilous. On the other side strode Farbarad and Berlas saw the Wolf of Cardolan look gravely across at him. The Ranger nodded slightly, as if he could guess at the thrust of Berlas’ thoughts and Berlas returned his gaze to the camp ahead. Perhaps, he considered, it was unreasonable to expect Doc to be unmarked by the sadness that had defined her life. Hanasian had been beloved by her and then cruelly snatched away before his time. That, surely, had to leave a mark.
As was always the way with inspections, Berlas saw a fresh crop of shortcomings only just before Rosmarin noticed them. The men were nervous mostly, ducking their heads and touching their brows hesitantly as she passed. Still, she spoke to them as if she were one of them and usually they were left in her wake smiling and perplexed at how that had come to be. The Company medics were the most anxious of the lot and, after Rin had scrutinised everything and declared it satisfactory, the most profoundly relieved. The Cats swallowed her whole into their midst, leaving Berlas and Farbarad standing there to entertain themselves for a good while. Rin emerged with a genuine smile on her face, eyes twinkling, but soon a more solemn expression was in place as she continued on. The only greeting of a like the Cats had offered came from the Old Company. Daius and Donius rushed up to her as though they were lads, brimming with tales about new contraptions and ideas and competing with each other for her attention. The Dirty Three waited for her to come to them and that exchange was the one thing that went the way Berlas expected it to.
While they exchanged insults and insinuations with each other, Berlas edged closer to where Farbarad stood.
”I know,” the Ranger replied as soon as Berlas was in earshot, ”We’re doing the best that we can.”
“Hanasian would not have wanted this for her.”
“A lot happens that Hanasian didn’t want,” Farbarad growled unhappily.
”It’s not my place,” Berlas apologised, surprised at how agitated Farbarad was.
”No, it’s not…but you’re right. She can’t go on like this much longer,” Farbarad bitterly declared, ”But you try telling her that!”
Loch came puffing up to join them, cheeks and ears reddened by the cold, whilst Rin was wrangling with the Dirty Three.
”What’d I miss? Why didn’t anyone tell me she was here?” his eyes narrowed as he considered his sister, ”She wanted it that way, didn’t she!”
“She did,” Berlas told him and Loch sighed with his disgruntlement.
”That’s not fair,” he complained, ”Did she notice the-“
“Yes, she did,” Berlas said and Loch heaved a second sigh as his eyes drifted to where the Company’s stores had been assembled.
Berlas watched Loch study the wagons there and those who guarded them and then flick his eyes to Berlas with a silent question. Berlas answered it with a shake of his head and that was that for Rin was done with the Dirty Three. She beckoned Berlas and Loch both to accompany her and once she was clear of the camp her questions began.
”What the hell are you thinking, Loch? The Dirty Three? War is no place for old men!”
“Those old men are the only ones who actually know what and who the Moricarni are. Would you rather we go in blind?” Loch returned squarely.
Berlas saw Rin’s jaw tense at the response for a moment as they strode towards the inn, ”Well, I suppose they’re fool enough to want to meet their end anywhere but in a warm, comfortable bed.”
“Knowing those three, I think they’ll have acquired aforementioned warm beds no matter where they might be,” Berlas offered to cut through the tension and was rewarded with a nod from her.
”Like as not, “ she said and then switched topic suddenly, ”The captaincy. Is it resolved? I’ll not have you take the field without a clear line of command.”
“No,” Loch said.
”Yes,” Berlas said and Rin climbed the broad wooden steps that led into the Inn.
She turned at the top to consider them both, ”Vote in an acting captain.”
“Still no word on Vid?” Loch pressed and in response Berlas saw open worry flare.
She shook her head as she gazed north and east, ”Not yet.”
Rosmarin spun about on her boot heel and reached for the Inn’s door, ”Report back to me this evening.”
Just like that she was gone, with Loch and Berlas standing in front of the steps to the Inn.
”I bet she’ll take my room, too,” Loch said and then glanced at Berlas to shrug, ”So now what?”
“We vote,” Berlas said emphatically, ”I’m not coming back here without an outcome, are you?”
“Suppose not,” Loch allowed and Berlas guessed that Doc’s brother was perhaps not as intimidated by her as the others were.
Loch turned for the camp again, hands thrust deep into his pockets and boots crunching over snow.
”How long has she been…you know…like that?” Berlas inquired.
”It was worse. Much worse. This is actually better,” Loch told him.
”Better?”
“She smiles now. Sometimes,” he explained and glanced at Berlas, ”And she’s different with the children. Not so grim and stern.”
Berlas nodded to himself and, after a few steps, ”But she doesn’t laugh anymore, does she.”
“No,” Loch admitted, ”Nor does she dance or sing.”
”She didn’t even greet you,” Berlas said, ”Are you quarreling with her?”
”No – she doesn’t want anyone thinking she shows me favour. Nothing more than that. She knows how the men gossip.”
“Ah, I see,” Berlas said, relieved that at least she was not estranged from what family she had left.
The pair split up as soon as they entered camp, for organising a vote took time and effort both. By the time it was done, it was past sundown. Loch trudged through the campfires, shoulders hunched dejectedly, for the Inn.
”Told you,” Berlas said quietly, the only thing he had said since the votes had been cast.
”You needn’t gloat,” Loch grumbled, guessing that Berlas had a grin from ear to ear in the darkness, ”And anyway, it’s only acting captain.”
The pair found Rosmarin a table by the common room hearth. The fireplace was well alight and it cast the Lady of Cardolan and the Rangers she sat with in a flickering glow. Rosmarin had cast her plate armour aside for the evening. Steel no longer glinted across her torso, atop her shoulders or down her arms. Her hair was combed out smoothly and loosely braided to fall in a thick river of silver down her left shoulder. The table was in deep, quiet conversation as Berlas and Loch approached. From what they heard, it appeared to be in Adûanic and Rin was nodding while one of the Rangers spoke.
Their arrival in the common room had not gone unnoticed. With the Lady of Cardolan in residence, the Forsaken Inn’s common room was littered with more Rangers than it had ever before seen. Some were stationed here permanently now, Loch had discovered, disguised as inveterate customers of the Inn. He wasn’t sure how Rin had managed to accomplish that but he admired the move all the same and he had spent the few days waiting for her arrival trying to figure out which of the regular drunks were in fact Rangers. He was pretty certain the man that permanently occupied the far left bar stood was one but he’d yet to make his mind up about the one that liked to sit in the darkened corner by the stairs. Give a Ranger a few days in the wild and they tended to go a touch feral, in Loch’s experience.
The Rangers at the table with his sister were no less wild and dangerous for all of the fact that they were more neatly accoutred. Their conversation faded away as Rin looked up at him and Berlas. Her eyes bounced between them both for a moment.
”Are you going to make me ask?” she inquired as the Rangers with her watched on.
Her hands were loosely wrapped around a mug of tea, long fingers not tapping or otherwise tense yet.
”Your brother has been voted acting captain,” Berlas said when it was clear Loch could not bring himself to answer and Rin nodded her acceptance.
”Good,” she declared and then asked her brother, ”Doesn’t it feel better to at least have that resolved?”
“No,” Loch combatively replied, ”You’ve not told me yet what you’ve got in for us and besides, it wasn’t a fair vote.”
Rin lifted a brow at his statement and looked to Berlas for an answer which he supplied, ”He thinks I stacked the vote.”
“Did you?”
“No more than usual.”
“It’s done then. Have a seat, gentlemen.”
At her words two Rangers rose and made for the door to the Inn. Loch sat into one recently vacated chair, muttering about how it wasn’t done and it was only a temporary measure, while Berlas took the other.
”Your next commission...” Rin began, switching to the Company patois out of habit and then pausing.
Berlas thought he saw true concern, if not outright fear in her eyes for a moment and beside him Loch shuddered.
”I hate it when you do that, Rin! Just tell us, for pity’s sake!”
“You’re to relieve the Rangers currently holding the Rhaudar line. They are to fall back into Western Arnor as they see fit, bearing in mind that the King is eager to restore Fornost. That is to serve as their base.”
“Fornost? What’s next, Amon Sûl?” Berlas inquired and Rin’s eyes travelled to his, unreadable and impassive.
”In time, Berlas,” she answered calmly, ”I am of one mind with King Elessar in this. The northern realm is to be restored fully and, mark my words, I will see it done. Do you take issue with this, Man of Gondor?”
“No!” Berlas blurted out, startled.
She studied him a moment longer and then frowned, her brow crinkling, ”Fornost…Western Arnor…Rangers…where was I?”
Farbarad leaned in to murmur something in her ear and Rin’s confusion cleared, ”Yes, now I have it. My thanks, Wolf. The Company is to hold the Rhuadar line throughout the course of winter. Then, once the season clears, you are to commence occupation of Rhuadar. I want to Moricarni extinguished in Rhuadar once and for all.”
“How long are we to occupy Rhuadar?” Loch asked.
”As long as it takes. If it can be done in a year, I will triple the Company’s pay. I suspect, however, that it will take at least two summers. And, if you have not guessed, the coming winter will be bad. I have seen it. Getting into position will be your first challenge, surviving there will be your next. The Moricarni will be the relatively easy part.”
“What of Rhuadar itself, though? Are they supported there?” Berlas asked and Rin grimaced.
”I do not yet know. I had hoped to learn that from Beragil, and failing that from Videgavia. Both have vanished…what I do have comes from the Rangers currently holding the Rhuadar line. They made easy progress at first but for the past six or so month they have been hard pressed to hang onto it. They’re tired, thinly spread, and will not withstand winter’s onslaught. I do not mean to see us lose ground won by their blood, nor do I wish to see the Moricarni break back into Western Arnor.”
Rin paused then and washed one of her hands over her face. She regarded Berlas and Loch solemnly.
”I believe the Moricarni must have support. I believe they are organised, they train and they must be recruiting. That suggests a command structure, a base of operations, somewhere in Rhuadar. Whatever the case, they are a sloppy cult dedicated to a dead Elf no longer. You should deal with them accordingly.”
“But if they are supported, then who supports them?” Loch asked, ”I thought Rhuadar was largely deserted.”
“Plainly it is not,” Rin replied, ”And bear in mind that whoever calls Rhuadar their home now reside within the greater realm of Arnor. They are subject to the King’s laws…and his protections. Am I understood?”
Berlas and Loch nodded slowly and Loch said, ”Don’t worry. I’ll keep them on their best behaviour.”
Rin sat back in her chair and Berlas realised that she must have been concerned indeed, ”Good…you had better…because Arnor has had quiet enough of tearing itself apart. Any Company man failing to abide by the King’s laws will meet with the full force of those laws himself.”
Their talk shifted to more practical matters such as supply. Rhuadar’s reputation as a rather bleak land had been worrying Berlas on that front so the assurance that Rin would keep the Company supplied was a welcome relief. As the evening pressed on, a simple meal of stew was served and the remaining Rangers drifted to other tables aside from Farbarad and another man, with strangely beaded and braided hair and a dangerous air to him. He didn’t look at all familiar to Berlas but despite that, the younger Ranger was clearly deeply within his mistress’ counsels. Every time the man caught Berlas studying him, his eyes glinted knowingly.
Once business was done, which occurred around about the time the last of the bread had been devoured, Loch leaned back in his chair and gestured at the commonroom.
”Are they all Rangers in here now?”
“They might be,” Rin replied evasively and then canted her head at her brother, ”Why?”
“I was just wondering…idle curiosity.”
“Mmmmmm,” Rin picked up a fresh cup of tea and sipped at it patiently, waiting her brother out.
Eventually she won for Loch confessed, ”How? How’d you do it? How’d you slip them in here like that? How?”
For a moment Loch thought his sister would keep her methods to herself but she ended up lowering her mug, ”It’s simple, actually. I purchased the Inn.”
Loch’s jaw swung at her answer, ”You own the Forsaken Inn?”
“Yes.”
“The Forsaken Inn?!”
“What of it?”
Loch cast a leery eye about, ”Well, of all the establishments the Lady of Cardolan might acquire, this does not exactly spring to mind first! Aside from the activities known to occur in and around this place, does it even turn a profit?”
“Depends on how you manage those activities you mentioned,” Rin said and Berlas thought she was enjoying herself now. It was hard to tell.
”Banditry! Lawlessness! Petty larceny!”
“The occasional assassination too, I’m told,” Rin added.
”But your job is to apply the King’s laws!” Loch argued and Rin rolled her eyes.
”Lochared, my job is no different to any of Aragorn’s nobles. We apply the King’s laws…most of the time in accordance with what best suits us.”
“That’s OUTRAGEOUS!”
“Oh settle down!” Rin snapped, ”I acquired the Inn for its strategic and tactical merit in the campaign, you idiot, not to turn a profit. If I charge in arresting its customers left, right and centre, what do you think will happen then, eh?”
Loch flushed and the dangerous looking Ranger that still sat at the table shook his head slightly.
”Oh, I see,” Loch admitted, ”That makes sense, I suppose.”
“Of course it does,” Rin growled, ”And thank you for so readily thinking I was just like every other corrupt noble we’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter too! Did you honestly think that I’d-“
“I’m sorry, Rin! I am, honest!”
Rin sniffed at her brother but said nothing further. Berlas found the argument a refreshing piece of normality, both in how the siblings baited each other and the way Rin’s eyes flashed a deep, searing blue. Loch appeared genuinely contrite and in the aftermath the dangerous Ranger stood and excused himself.
Berlas was thinking about doing the same when Loch leaned forward over the table to reach for his sister’s hand.
”There’s, um, something I want to tell you about, if I might.”
Rin withdrew her hand, still stung, and crossed her arms over the faded green tunic she wore.
”That all depends on what you’re about to accuse me of next.”
“Nothing! I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” Loch rejoined and withdrew his outstretched hand, ”I’ve had a dream.”
“We all dream,” Rin replied, stubbornly intractable.
”No….a Dream, Rin. Like…like the ones you have.”
His sister’s truculence evaporated. She sat up straighter in her chair as she uncrossed her arms.
”I did not know you Dreamed, Loch. When did this start?”
“I don’t Dream…and it only happened the once a little while ago.”
“But you’re certain it was a Dream?”
Loch nodded, ”I just know it was.”
“I understand,” Rin told him, her eyes glinting in the flickering firelight of the hearth, ”What did you see? All I see is ice and…well never mind the rest. What of you?”
Berlas found himself tensed in his chair, every muscle coiled as he willed Loch to silence. Loch didn’t even glance in his direction. Instead, his attention was centred on his sister across the table.
”Hanasian is alive,” he whispered.
Even though no one else would have heard it, Berlas thought the entire common room froze. Certainly Rin did. She did not so much as twitch or blink for the longest moment.
Then she said, ”I see.”
“I see? Hanasian is alive, Rin!”
“Yes, I heard what you said, Lochared,” she replied, her voice taut as a bowstring and she looked to where Berlas sat, ”I’ll see you on the morrow, then. Good evening.”
Berlas stood as did the others at the table and watched Rin depart, her movements smooth and as tightly controlled as her voice had been. She disappeared up the stairs without a backwards glance and Berlas was struck by how strange her reaction had been. He was so busy staring after her that he did not realise Farbarad was moving until the Wolf of Cardolan had Loch by his shirtfront.
”Have a care,” the Ranger snarled, anger stamped on his face.
Loch pulled himself free of Farbarad’s grip and pulled his clothing straight, ”I’m not joking, Farbarad. Not about this. I know what I saw and she has a right to know!”
“Your sister nearly drove herself mad thinking that way,” Farbarad snapped back, ”It was nearly the death of her!”
“Really?” Berlas asked, shaken by the revelation.
Farbarad turned away, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he grappled for control of himself.
”She clawed her way back from the brink and I’ll not see that unravelled,” he said as he turned about to face them again, ”Not even by you, Lochared. Think what you want, but if you have any love for your sister then you will keep your thoughts to yourself.”
Loch nodded wordlessly and with that the Ranger strode away to take the stairs two at a time.
”I didn’t know,” Loch said quietly, stricken, ”I didn’t realise.”
Berlas clapped a hand on the acting captain’s shoulder, ”She’ll come good. You’ll see. She’s made of stern stuff.”
“I didn’t know,” Loch repeated, ”How could I not know? She’s my sister.”
“Come on…you’d best spend the night in camp.”
Berlas led him away and offered the troubled man a berth in his tent. Loch passed a restless night tossing and turning and the clear morning that followed found the new acting captain taciturn and irritable. By contrast, his sister emerged looking as fresh as new snow. The Company assembled for her address and to hear their new commission and, with the blessings and well wishes of all within the Reunited Kingdom ringing in their ears, it was time to break came and set forth for Rhuadar.
For her part, Rin strode towards where her horse waited with the Rangers. They had saddled it for her that morning, despite the fact that she had not asked for it and usually preferred to saddle her horse herself. Everything was wrong this morning, including the empty air at her left hip. She had no idea how someone had made off with her sword and she should be wroth. She was, in fact…aside from that corner of her mind that was nothing short of relieved. She had come to hate that sword, and the Elf it had been fashioned for. It had haunted her nightmares, night after night, as had the sword’s original owner.
The hilt of the replacement caught her eye from where it had been lashed to her saddle. The thieves had been well meaning and she had three men in particular in mind. Why they had decided to acquire her sword was a mystery to her but for now she was content to let them have it. And, should they survive the winter that waited for them and the campaign beyond it, she could settle up accounts then. If anything, she was patient.
Rin swung up into the saddle and turned to watch the Company break camp. She lifted her arm to her brother and saw his own shoot up to wave energetically at him. Loch had been filled with self recriminations and regret that morning but given she was sending him into an uncertain future, she had no stomach for taking him to task. She had quarreled with Hanasian before he had left and would have to live with that regret through all the years ahead. She would not repeat that error with her brother.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
If the sound of her weeping had been agonising, the silence that followed was worse still. The Ranger washed his hands over his face, felt the grit on his skin in the darkness that surrounded him, and tried to sustain his hope. As if by force of will alone would get him and his sister through this hell. Time had come adrift by the time he heard something in blank emptiness. Someone was unlocking the door and excitement collided with sudden dread. A shaft of sunlight blinded him and hands pulled him roughly into the searing light of what once been his sister’s sitting room.
The furniture was smashed, curtains torn and there were grotesque dark brown splashes on a floor his sister kept spotless.
The Ranger was dragged through this to the yard outside where his sister’s children, his nieces, had played on bright warm afternoons like this. He still did not know where they were but he feared the worst.
”You know what we want…you know what we can do,” whispered a voice in his ear and the Ranger whimpered miserably despite himself.
”Please…my sister…”
“She will be ours until you deliver us what we desire.”
“But it can’t be done! It’s not possible!” he pleaded.
”Find a way.”
And just like that they were gone. When the Ranger dared pick himself up from the ground, he found the yard and house empty. But, by the post of his sister’s front gate there was the favourite toy of his youngest niece. He recognised the stuffed rabbit by it’s bright red vest for it’s head had been wrenched away. The Ranger crouched in the grass of his sister’s yard and buried his face in his hands.
What they asked was treason…but if he refused then he would be responsible for the murder of his sister and her daughters. Shaking, the man rose unsteadily to his feet and with each step, what he had to do firmed in his mind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
IV - 57
In Annuminas the winter’s end had arrived at last and the city streets were bathed in equal measure of relief and sunlight both. Windows were thrown open to admit the much sought after warmth. There were bright streamers and banners hung in all the colours of Arnor’s noble houses. Prominent amongst these was the black and silver standard of House Telcontar and rightly so for the King had returned to the north and with him had come his queen and his heir.
Receptions, banquets, balls glittered within the restored northern city. Minstrels and bards roamed widely. The trials of the winter past were brushed aside. Nestled liberally amongst the black and silver was another standard. This one was all of sapphire and silver and it belonged to a woman that was not in the city in late spring. She was far afield from her official duties in a place where spring had yet to arrive proper and, right at that moment, she was scowling at the thin crust of dirty snow that persistently clung to everything.
Her horse shifted beneath her. The gelding pushed out a heavy breath laden with impatience that she shared. Her brother was late and her business with him was nothing she was pleased to be conducting. Rosmarin of Cardolan tightened her fist around her reins and glanced over to where Farbarad was astride his horse. The ranger was focused elsewhere, his pallid grey eyes somewhere off to the north where, she presumed, his thoughts ran.
They waited in a copse of trees, branches still bare despite the lateness of the season. They had scarcely survived this past winter and well she knew it. The stores of Annuminas had nearly failed them. Had she not been able to move those willing south to her holdings in Edhellond, there may have been starvation outright. It had been close enough that she had genuinely feared outbreaks of unrest within the city for a good number of weeks. Then a horse had kicked a lantern over in a stable by the northern gate and the city had nearly burnt! Investigations were ongoing but so far, nothing had been found to suggest the fire had been deliberately lit. Annuminas had stood on the knife’s edge through the winter of IV – 56 and 57 and she had managed to pull them through it by the narrowest of margins.
”Just as well the White Wolves stayed away this time,” she muttered to herself but even though this was true, Rin harboured no small degree of dread for the winter to come.
Here, in the north, winter had not ended yet. Further south, spring had arrived but it was late. There was genuine concern that the harvest would fail and if that happened, all of Arnor would fall. Not just Annuminas but the entire northern realm! Underneath her layers of wool, fur, leather and steel, sweat dripped down her neck and spine. She needed to have a long, serious discussion with her cousin when she returned to the city. She’d put ships out far afield in the hopes that they may trade their way into replenishing their stores. Surely Rhun and Harad could not be so blighted by Fell Winters as Arnor had been. But if that failed, if those ships returned with anything but full hulls…
The sharp, clear whistle of one of the local birds, a dullish brown pheasant that made decidedly unpleasant eating as they had discovered, reached where Rin waited with the five rangers she had picked for this assignation. They were chosen for their skill and their capacity for discretion. Farbarad looked over to where she was and nodded. Rin pushed her thoughts back to the unpleasant matter at hand as Loch and his fellow commander, Berlas, rode at last through the trees. The thin, stubborn snow crackled under the hooves of their horses and left a clear trail of muddy brown crescents behind them.
”Sister,” Loch said curtly, already suspecting why she had taken the extraordinary measure of riding so far into Rhuadar.
Beside him, Berlas nodded politely and Rin urged her gelding forward to draw nearer.
”One question, gentlemen:” she said, adjusting her reins as her horse ambled towards the two men, ”Why? Chose your answers carefully indeed.”
Loch’s attempt to remain cool and calm evaporated and he launched into an impassioned accounting for the Company’s actions over the course of winter in Rhuadar. Berlas continued in his silence. No one could get a word in edgewise around her brother in any case. Rin waited for Loch to run out of bluster and, eventually, he petered off into silence with a shrug.
”Just so that I understand,” she said, ”The detachment in Tharbad thought the surplus incendiary powder the dwarves were using there might be useful and brought it with them. And this was subsequently involved in …how did you put it, Lochared?”
“It was a training mishap. An accident. We were still learning how to use the stuff.”
“A mishap,” Rin repeated, ”You utterly rearranged an entire valley, turned it inside out and on its head…but it was just a training accident.”
“It wasn’t even a good one, as valley's go. Nothing but lizards and rocks really,” Loch glanced to where Berlas was beside him, ”See, I told you she’d understand.”
“And how much of this powder do you have left?” Rin inquired.
As Loch opened his mouth to answer, Berlas finally perceived the moment had come for him to speak.
”None of it, Doc. We used it all up,” Berlas said quickly and saw her eyes narrow suspiciously.
”It’s all gone?” she clarified and Loch recovered from his momentary confusion.
”All of it. In fact, we need more of it.”
“I see,” Rin said quietly and the leather of her gloves creaked anew. She canted her head to one side, ”What does the Company make of this new weapon?”
“They see it’s potential, of course,” Loch replied enthusiastically, ”It could bring this campaign to a close months earlier! Think of the lives saved!”
“And useless landscape features eliminated,” Rin added, unable to keep her sarcasm out of her voice this time.
Loch missed that entirely in his relief that his sister had not arrested him and did not seemed inclined to do so, ”Exactly! Think of all that arable land…once the dust settles…and the rocks…you know what I mean, Rin.”
“I am afraid I do, Lochared. What did Wulgof make of it?”
“He thought it a grand idea. He said it worked at Helm’s Deep just fine,” Loch said.
”Wulgof was on the losing side at Helm’s Deep,” Rin pointed out.
”Yes, but only because a whole cavalry of Rohirrim showed up at the last gasp. I don’t think these Moricarni have that, Rin. Do you? We know what we’re doing with this stuff now. Give some more and we’ll finish this off for you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Peace? It’s been three years. Let us end it. You know what Vid would say were he here. Hanasian too,” Loch answered and saw his sister’s jaw tense as she clenched her teeth.
She looked away from them for a long moment before answering, ”Yes, as a matter of fact I do. But neither man is here now and even if they were, neither man is the commander of this campaign. That pleasure falls to me and me alone.”
When Rin looked back at Berlas and her brother, she let her anger shine clearly. Berlas sighed in defeat but Loch appeared genuinely surprised. When she next spoke, her voice was iron. It had to be. There was no other way.
”Mark my words well: I forbid outright the use of this wizard’s powder. I will not have Rhuadar saved by Saurman the White’s malice. I will not have Arnor’s stability imperilled by rash, thoughtless action here. I will not lay waste to Rhuadar just so that you can go home a little sooner. Is that clear!?”
“You’re making a mistake, and you’ll come to regret it!” Loch burst out.
Rin’s tone became icy, ”They are my mistakes to make, brother!”
A short distance away, one of the rangers cleared his throat and Loch remembered himself. He shook his head sullenly and shifted in his saddle.
Berlas quietly said, ”We understand, Doc.”
Rin’s gaze snapped to the former Ithilien Ranger, ”You’d better, because the next time I hear of this I’ll have the heads of those responsible. Irrespective of who they belong to.”
Berlas nodded and endured her scrutiny until she released him. He was struck by a sudden recollection of the woman that had confronted him. It was that morning at the Prancing Pony, many years ago. Hanasian had only announced the evening before that she had signed on and the very next day they were gathered together to receive their next orders. Rin had arrived with cheeks flushed and hair tangled, slightly late, harried and breathless. While the rest of the Company had taunted her roundly, he had found himself seated beside her and unable to join in the fun. Instead, he’d discretely suggested that she untangle her hair.
She’d turned such a wide eyed look of dismay at him that he’d nearly drowned in her eyes. Then she had looked over to where their captain stood, irritably waiting for them to all settle down and her cheeks had burnt anew at the reproach Hanasian had no choice but to deliver. Now, he would be hard pressed to connect the woman on the horse to the woman he recalled all those years ago. Her trepidation and uncertainty had vanished and she looked as indeed she was: a daughter of kings, descended from the royal line of Núnemor.
Rosmarin drew a breath and broached a new topic, ”Your supply train should reach you in a week or two. I do not know when the next one can be gotten to you, so make it last. If this year’s harvest fails as they fear it will, you may be fending for yourselves like the rest of Arnor is.”
“Is it that bad?” Berlas asked, shaken by the grim words.
”We’ll continue rationing. The men are accustomed to it,” Loch replied, voice flat with reproach, ”Any word of Vid?”
Rin shook her head testily, ”No, and if he’s any sense he’ll stay gone. I have no option now but to arrest and try him for desertion!”
“We’ll continue as we have been, then,” Berlas said quickly and gathered his reins, ”Travel safely Doc. You’re a fair way into Rhuadar and a significant target for the Moricarni even without that sword of yours.”
Rin nodded shortly and Berlas wheeled his horse around and departed. Loch, however, remained where he was. Rin could tell he was brooding.
’Rin, it’s a mistake I tell you.”
“The matter is closed, Loch. I will discuss it no further,” Rin said and watched her brother’s shaggy head turn aside.
She sighed unhappily and then reached for her nearest saddlebag. Rin drew out a bundle of paper wrapped in brightly coloured string. Her movement drew her brother’s attention and she tossed him the bundle.
”Rose sends her love,” she told him as he caught it.
”She’s well?”
“She misses you…but yes, she is well. I sent her south to Cardolan with the children. They are safer there, now.”
Loch nodded and turned the bundle over in his large hands.
”Loch?” Rin asked quietly and his head lifted so that his dark eyes, coals of anger still, met her own gaze, ”I want you to come home to your wife, whole.”
“I’m not going to get myself killed, Rin,” he scoffed as Rin nudged her gelding closer still.
She reached out to wrap her hand around Loch’s wrist, ”That’s not what I meant. I know what it is carry that darkness within you…to wake sweating and shaking in the night, haunted by what you saw and worse, what you have done. Do not do that to Rose, Loch. Do not consign her to watch you suffer like that. Have done with this recklessness.”
Loch curved the fingers of his other hand over hers and squeezed a little, ”I understand, Rin.”
She nodded and knew she’d have to be content with that. He let her fingers slip out from underneath his own and she picked up her reins.
”Have you had any further Dreams?” she asked, eyes on a spot between her horse’s ears.
Loch looked over to where Farbarad waited, ”No.”
His answer was an honest one and he wanted to reassure her that it changed nothing. He knew his dream was true. He knew it. Instead, he let her go and she turned away for Annuminas. Loch remained where he was until Berlas slipped back out through the trees.
”That went as you expected,” Berlas observed, sounding surprised.
”Of course it did. She’s my sister,” Loch replied and tucked the bundle of letters into his saddlebags.
”Shame we couldn’t get any more of the stuff out of her.”
“Aye…but we’ve enough left for it to be of use to us all the same.”
“You mean to proceed?”
“I see no reason not to,” Loch replied.
”I think she meant it, Loch. If your sister discovers what we’re doing here, she really will have our heads. Even yours.”
“I know,” Loch said, ”Rin is not given to idle threats and we still don’t know how she got wind of that accident a month ago. If it wasn’t the rangers-“
“It wasn’t,” Berlas said.
”Then my money is on the Cats. They’ve always been hers ever since Vid created the unit in Minas Tirith.”
“Whoever is responsible for it, we need to ensure we get to the bottom of it before we try to use the powder again. I really don’t want your sister showing up any angrier than she was.”
A lop sided grin surfaced from Loch’s beard, ”Haven’t seen her that mad in years.”
“Took a demolished valley to make it happen,” Berlas said with a faint smile of his own, ”You’re losing your touch.”
“It’s those twin boys of hers. We have to go to extraordinary lengths now to get a bite out of her because of those two.”
The two men turned their horses about and rode off to regain their Company encampment, discussing their plans for the months of the fighting season ahead.
Statistics: Posted by elora — Mon Aug 10, 2015 3:41 am