Between Dol Amroth and the Mouths of the Anduin, the Cape of Belfalas spreads out into the sea, its western bluffs forming the eastern shoreline of Belfalas Bay. More than just an interesting terrain feature of Western Gondor, it was also haven to many of the kingdom’s prosperous and privileged. The road following the Cape’s scenic shoreline was gated and guarded at both ends, effectively making the elite villages along the coast a separate province within the Belfalas fiefdom. The choicest properties, however, were the islands off the Cape’s west coast, one for the Lighthouse, and the other two, named Tol Falthui and Tol Lochul, each held an exclusive mansion of many rooms and exquisite views. Most recently, the former became home to Lumenire, a High Kindred mistress of rune lore and Cutch’s great aunt.
After returning from Edhellond to Dol Amroth and spending their last night at the Talk of the Walk Inn, Cutch, Ardanion, and Teahesto rose well before dawn and prepared for the ride to the Cape, hoping to make Tol Falthui before nightfall. Cutch took them on a brief detour to the hill to which he’d fled many years before. They looked back on the still slumbering port.
“I hope we get to return there someday, Ada”, Ardanion sighed. “The city still has so much to explore.”
Cutch chuckled, thinking back on the long-lost Den. “Aye, there is, Ardanion. Perhaps our course will lead back there on our return to Her Ladyship’s Lair.”
“But there is still so much more to see in the world”, Teahesto commented, “and I believe you will find your Aunt Lumenire and her island worth the time to visit.”
The glow of the waning half-moon angled across the paved road, and shadows from the shoulder’s low western walls snaked easily along the gently rolling ground. As the rosy dawn slowly slid across the sky, night insects quieted, hurrying to shelter from awakening and hungrily chirping birds. “Another lovely day”, Cutch commented; the weather continued to cooperate with the trio’s travel plans.
Their road lead them closer to the coast, where the sea air and cawing white gulls on the wing drew their attention to an endless seascape, where, looking westward, three islands were the last sentinels of dry land.
Cutch pointed to the one on the right. “According to Lumenire’s directions, that should be Tol Falchui.”
Ardanion studied the islands for a while, then said, “I suppose we will ferry out to it?”
“Aye”, Teahesto affirmed. “We and our horses. That should make exploring the island a bit easier.”
“What could possibly be explored?”, Ardanion asked. “You can see the entire island from here.”
Cutch chuckled. “There is more to exploration than just what one can see from a distance. You can’t tell from here where the best fishing spots are. A closer look often yields the most important details.
The boy shrugged and nodded with a “We’ll see” look on his face.
Over the road’s next rise, they came to the western gate of the Cape’s coastal road.
Two armed guards stepped out into the road as they approached. The sergeant in charge moved forward to greet the three. Looking up at Teahesto, he said, “Good morning my lords. Where are you bound this day?”
The Elf assumed the familiar posture of a military officer and replied, “We are travelling to Tol Falthui to visit the Lady Lumenire. Are you to be our escorts, sergeant? That really will not be necessary, for she has given us sufficient directions.”
The sergeant gave the Elf captain a confused look. “No, sir, we are posted here. Tol Falthui, my lord? Then you are the Lady’s nephew? She said we should expect you…”
“No, sergeant, these two with me are her nephews…and I am THEIR escort.”
The guards blinked at the two Mortals and wordlessly stepped aside to allow the three to continue, with a stone-faced Teahesto in the lead and Cutch and Ardanion following, their jaws tightened to suppress grins and laughter. Once through the gate, the three could hear the guards muttering excitedly. Several minutes passed before Ardanion could no longer contain an adolescent, crack-voiced laughter.
“Well, Captain, that should get the rumor-ravens flying”, Cutch said, beaming at the Elf.
“Yes indeed”, Teahesto replied, turning a broad grin to them. “It would appear that I am in your service…My Lords!”
The three shared a hearty laugh, making the already beautiful mid-morning even brighter. They did not care to rush for the rest of their ride, for the seaside views were both restful and spectacular. Now that playful roles had been created, they continued down the road in character; Teahesto the stern and ever-watchful guard, Cutch and Ardanion in tow and treating the locals with comically regal, condescending politeness. Some got the jest, as evidenced by their sly smirks, others did not and reacted with exaggerated bows and curtsies. By the time they reached the Cathlond docks, a loose parade of the casually curious trailed behind them, gossiping amongst themselves while the trio pretended not to notice.
Once at the ferry, Teahesto kept up the premise of escort and guardian and secured them passage to the island.
Cutch and Ardanion dismounted and, as their theatrical characters would, allowed the Elf to secure the mounts on board while they bid farewell to their curious followers. As those in the small crowd were of the upper classes, they replied with parting words and gestures of grace, and watched with waved silken kerchiefs and whispered suppositions as the ferry sailed out into the bay toward Tol Falthui.
Once out of earshot of the receding docks, the trio turned to each other with impish grins.
“Why did we do that?” Ardanion asked. “Besides for fun, I mean.”
Teahesto, with tongue in cheek and twinkling eyes sliding from son to father, silently passed the question to Cutch.
Cutch shrugged. “I suppose to play havoc with the inevitable gossip?”
The three laughed together as the ferryman shook his head at them. “Some of them will not be happy at being made fool of, y’know”. They regarded the fellow, who gave them a fond look. He was plainly dressed, and Cutch recognized his manner of speech; he was a sailor, probably owned no property besides the ferry he worked. The two engaged in a short conversation that revealed Cutch’s experiences at sea, and that was enough to establish a commonality, both being men raised in humble means but with industrious hearts.
They all watched Tol Falthui approach, Ardanion most intently. The mansion oversaw a wide area formed up flat behind retaining walls of gorgeous cut stone.
Behind the mansion, the ground rose to a gently rounded peak. Most of the island, except for the levelled and subtly tended yard, was modestly wooded, and otherwise covered with wild and tall grasses. Where the island touched the sea, the shore was bare rock nestled in gravel, evidence of the surf’s endless undulations.
The warm sea-salted wind embraced the ferry and drew it in to the stone dock thrusting out from the island’s southeast shore. Cutch assisted the ferryman bring the vessel gently in and, with quickly remembered flicks of the wrist, hitched them up to the iron cleats spaced along the dock’s edge. After unloading and bidding the ferryman farewell, the three travelers led their loaded mounts up the paved pathway to the mansion, where they saw the newest lady of Tol Falthui round the bend, strolling down to meet them.
Lumenire approached without hesitation, first to greet her old friend Teahesto, and then, under a waning sun in darkening blue sky, she reached with each hand to cup the chins of Cutch and Ardanion.
“How much you have grown young man”, she murmured to Ardanion. Turning to his father with an impish eye, she continued, “And how much you have greyed…. Little Man!”
