When Radawen turned the key to her apartment in the Sage’s Tier in Minas Tirith a few days later there were two men inside waiting for her.
”We are Captain Bangion’s men”, said one of the men, sitting on a straight-backed chair by Radawen’s desk. ”From Tham Pethgyl.”
”Not good enough”, Radawen said. She pulled the key out of the lock and dropped it in her bag with its chain. She closed the door behind her. She looked at the man. The other one was sitting on the windowsill, blocking the view to the street, the lower tiers of Minas Tirith and the drab, dreary landscape of Pelennor Fields in early winter.
Radawen was scared. She glared at the men. Her face was flushed, blood was rushing through her veins. Her green eyes were shining. She would not let them see how scared she was. She breathed in and pressed her back against the door. She tried to breathe in deeply. Show them nothing!
”Who are you?”
”We serve the throne”, said the man sitting at the desk. He looked statuesquely handsome with his black hair and Gondorian sea-grey eyes. He attempted a smile.
Radawen thought: This is about Delioron. He is dead or they want to kill him and they want to use me in some way.
”My name is Mudon”, the black-haired man continued. ”You know the deal so I am not going to bore you with repeating the details you already know.”
”Bore away”, Radawen said. ”Who knows, I might know something you don’t.”
”Alright, dove. Delioron. Remember him? Do you remember why he came back to Minas Tirith to seek protection? You were both being hunted, right? But Steward Denethor takes care of his own. And we have been assigned to watch over you in case the bad men forget you are under our protection.”
”Delioron arranged it, not me.”
”But you went along with it.”
Radawen’s eyes would not leave his face as she sat down on a chair. She said nothing. She was wearing a light green cloak and a striped woolen scarf on her shoulders.
”Where is your lover?” Mudon asked.
Radawen looked at him in the eyes. He was not lying. He did not know where he was. Delioron had disappeared.
”Is there something wrong?” Mudon asked.
”Not wrong, funny. Hilarious even. So you have lost him? Sometimes my trust in the realm wavers.”
”It’s not hilarious. Not hilarious at all.”
”You have lost the one you were supposed to protect.”
”We have a pretty good idea of where he might have gone, but you can save us all a lot of trouble by telling us. Come on, dove.”
”Rot in the dung-pits!”
”Dung!” said the man sitting on the windowsill. He was disheveled, tall and sallow, corpse-like. ”Your mouth needs washing, pet.”
”Come on, dove”, said Mudon, disregarding the other man.
”Why do you keep calling me ’dove’ and ’pet’? Are you dog-catchers when you don’t sneak around women’s apartments, peeping through holes and sniffing their underwear? Or rat-catchers?”
Mudon flushed. ”I asked you a question!”
”The last time I saw him half a year ago he said he would be put in hiding for a while. Looks like you hid him too well if even you can’t find him anymore.” She was talking tough, scared. Her slightly crooked front teeth made her appear more aggressive than what she felt. ”Did your hearing horns got clogged by earwax or something? A shrew died in the peephole and blocked the view? Do you think I’m hiding him under the bed?”
”Nobody said anything about hearing horns and peepholes. We have been watching you for your own protection. You are still hunted by the enemy.”
She knew that. He had told him that before he left. He had left her to save her. To save himself.
”Do you think you’re funny?” said the scarecrow on the windowsill.
”No. But I’m not the one who lost him, am I? It is not my business to ask questions, is it?” Radawen shot back. Those two goons would not scare her! If Delioron did not want to be found, nobody could find him. Perhaps he was somewhere out there on the street? Keeping an eye on the apartment right now?
”We know that the longer he is missing, the more he will be in trouble. They are hunting him now, and they are going to get him. They are going to get you too. So help us! And help yourself.”
”Just take care of your own business and I will take care of mine! I am not one of you minions of the throne! And I do not like you being here. Get out!”
”Is that so? You think you’re tough, huh?”
”You think you’re tough, huh”, Radawen mimicked.
”That does it!” Mudon was really getting angry now. Radawen could see it in his eyes. But did she really want to make this man angry?
”You think you’re so much better than us, is that it?” Mudon asked. ”You, a fancy scholar in the Houses of Lore. Educated, smart. But you have worked with him. You have helped him. You have slept with him. Do you know who he is? The things he has done in the name of the throne? He is a cut-throat and a deceiver, a man without honor or decency, and you are sleeping with him! So what gives you the right to sit on your high horse? You, a mistress of a rogue!”
”Don’t you talk about honor or decency either! You’re nothing but a peeping tom!”
”Look, dove, we will make sure to wipe that smug smirk off your face before we are through with you. We could have a little chat with Warden Idhrenil. We could make sure you will not be welcome to the Houses of Lore, or the Sage’s Tier for that matter, not ever again. We could run you off Minas Tirith for good. What would you say about that?”
Radawen waited. What could they threaten her with she had not already been through? She had helped Delioron. She had loved Delioron. Those two had not been there that night when the assassins from Rohan came to Delioron’s house, when Delioron had killed them with his sword. She could still see the corpses and the horrible sword wounds in her dreams. She could hear their screams. They had buried the bodies in Delioron’s garden in the pale moonlight.
”Delioron disappeared four days ago”, Mudon said.
”From where?”
”Rot!” said the scarecrow on the windowsill. He got up and walked across the room until he was standing in front of Radawen. ”Pet, what makes you think we will put up with your crap anymore?”
Radawen looked at him calmly. ”Because you look like you’ve been feeding on it your entire life.”
Radawen was prepared for the punch, but not the pain. She threw up on his clothes and her own. He pulled her off the chair and kicked her to her ribs. Radawen’s vision went dark. When she could open her eyes she found herself on all fours on the floor. The scarecrow grasped her by her long, reddish-brown hair and yanked her up on her feet.
”Do you want more, or are you ready to talk?”
”Where is he, lady Radawen?” Mudon asked. He had not even moved in his straight-backed chair.
”Tell me…” Radawen’s words choked on her own vomit. She shook herself off the scarecrow and went to the hearth. She took a jug of wine from a cabinet, poured some in a goblet and washed her mouth with it. Then she wiped it with a towel. She turned to face the men, supporting herself to the hearth. Scarecrow did not seem to mind the vomit on his trousers. ”Tell me where he was when he disappeared”, she said faintly. ”Maybe then I can tell you where he might be going.”
”Pelargir”, Mudon said. ”Did he ever tell you about Pelargir?”
Once. Briefly. After he had uttered a name in one of his terrible nightmares. He had shared so little of his past.
”Yes, he told me about Pelargir”, Radawen said. ”Was he visiting his aunt?”
”Lady Meldis.”
”Yes, that’s right.” Radawen considered the question. ”And he knew you were following him?”
”Following? We had been babysitting him for months in Arnach, armed guards guarding him around the clock in a secluded farmstead. Waste of Gondor’s treasury and manpower if you ask me, spending that much resources to protect a murderous, honorless, ungrateful charlatan. Then one day, without warning or explanation, he just disappears. Weeks later we find him again, this time in Pelargir. We sent a couple of men there…”
”Look”, Radawen interrupted. ”Do you really think I believed that those two men living next door are scholars or scribes? Or that I haven’t noticed all those people loitering on the street in front of my apartment, acting very hard like they’re busy doing nothing? You have been watching me for months, listening through these thin walls. You know that he has not come here.”
”Not quite, Lady Radawen. We haven’t been watching you since we sent those next door neighbors of yours to Pelargir. That was more than a week ago. He could have come here since then.”
”I haven’t seen him”, Radawen said.
”Radawen”, Mudon said. ”We serve the throne. We serve Minas Tirith and her people. We do not hurt innocent people. It was never our intention to mistreat you so badly, but you provoked us into anger and forced our hand. We want to help your lover. We want to help you. To keep you safe from those who seek to end your lives.”
”I haven’t seen him”, Radawen repeated faintly. It was the truth.
