I had ridden swiftly from Thamas Lorn to Mithlond, changing horses on the way instead of making my usual halt at Celondim for Suldal to rest. I would collect her on my return journey. With the Mithdirith about to embark on a mission to the north, haste was of the utmost necessity.
Aearandir’s recent words still echoed in my mind as I rode alongside the bank of the Lhun, heading west. “Have you said farewell to all you love, to all you hold dear?”
Of course I had!
At least I had done so in the manner he meant. It was not that he thought I would perish in Angmar…far from it! Had not all his training been provided with the purpose of keeping those in his charge ‘safe’? Nay….but there was something else he had sought to instruct me in on that eve at Duilond.
“Say farewell to all you love…” Those words cut me deeper than I think he knew.
His following comment concerning birdsong had given away part of his intent, I had concluded.
‘There is no birdsong where we travel, Aearlinn. There is very little of life. You, who have always been surrounded by birds and creatures and trees, and the life of the shores - I wish I could prepare you better for what is to come. Alas, all I can say is be prepared for that for which nothing can prepare you.’
And he had played music he knew I liked well, upon his harp, to bring joy before walking into darkness. At any rate, I had danced as though I had no care, when my feet had felt leaden. Each step upon that sward had been one of painful anticipation.
Aearandir had been in the Great War, as had Curugirion, Durthand, and many of the Herth. He had stood in places of abomination. I had not. Though this mission ahead of us was not to Gorgoroth, or the ash plain of Lithlad, yet is was to a land nigh as desolate. Aearandir would not have me fall under weight of despair that could crush the heart of many. I knew that! I also knew I would not fail him in such against any foe. (Aiiee, had I but known that the foe would be the one unexpected!)
And I held in my heart all the light and joyful memories I could. But still his words, meant as a good for me, had brought me unexplained sorrow.
In all other respects my preparations for the forthcoming journey were complete. I had taken delivery of the small, compounded, seed balls that would be Tiri’s only source of food once we left the North Downs behind. I had checked and packed a goodly supply of herbs as I had been taught by healers far more proficient than I. Special care had been taken that anything useful against poison was included in my healing bag, though there were some poisons against which naught known to elf would hold sway. Food lay in my backpack – dried fruits and fish, way bread to sustain me for several weeks if need be. The grey uniform I was to wear – we all were to wear in that ‘ash-grey’ land - hung ready in my room. All was ready…only, the inability to find my sense of peace remained unresolved.
Then came the hawk bearing a message from my father.
‘Come home, Aearlinn, if you may. There is one thing here I would that you had in your possession before you set out north.’
Now I had spoken with both my parents little over a moon ago. I had spent much time in the small terraced house above the shipyards, explaining why I would not, could not take ship with them this year. They knew my reasons, both the spoken and unspoken ones. And we had said our painful farewells for the time being.
There was always Aman. ‘I shall see you later’ I had said before leaving home that bright winter morn, though in my thoughts ‘later’ could well have been several yeni away, and in the utmost west.
But they had understood!
And I had said my ‘farewells’ to my childhood home.
What now, I wondered, for my father to call me back. Why such an urgent and last moment ‘summons’?
It turned out to be concerning a piece of drift-wood!
Now my mother was not in the house when I arrived. My father alone greeted me, and I have some suspicion that had been his plan.
“Your mother has taken up her bow again, after all this time.” He explained, while setting a welcome cup of light wine on the table before me. “She has a notion that she too will help defend the Havens, should the need arise.”
For a moment he looked coldly serious, then he laughed at my bemused expression. “Know this, Aearlinn, beloved daughter...we have not just sat idly while you train with the Loth-i-Lonnath; nor while increasing numbers of others take up sword and bow, and practice once more.”
I was in truth surprised at the unexpected turn of the conversation that I momentarily knew not what to say. Setting down the cup after the initial sip, and taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I gave my father my undivided attention.
“We had thought long on leaving, Aew. As you already know, so many of our kin are in the west – your sister and her family are in the west.” He paused, blue eyes searching me for my response. Then he pushed a newly baked batch of sweet cinnamon cakes towards me. Always did my father see we were well fed!
‘And I understand, Ada…really I do! I would leave myself if the situation were but..’
My father raised a hand to halt my words, then waved it dismissively.
‘You would leave were there NOT another war brewing. And you would leave were it not for…’ His voice trailed off…but we both knew what was unspoken. For a moment my father’s eyes narrowed, and I knew what he was thinking… ‘Mariners,’ were the bane of his life, according to him.
‘I know, my dear one. I know.” He spoke after a moment’s pondering, shaking his head so that his abundant light brown hair fell lose from the clasp he wore when working. “Would that it was within my power to help you in the matter. But to my sorrow, this is all I can do.’
Rising to his feet, he turned and took a few steps to the large bookshelf next the window – the one he had carved himself with images of fishing ships under sail. He took up a package; something wrapped in blue silk and tied with a braided cord of blue and gold, which he then laid carefully on the table before me.
As I instinctively reached forth he gestured ‘No! Careful Aew, it has been in the care of Osse for some time and may be more fragile than it looks. An unexpected gift it is, washed up on the shore from the most recent sea-storm.”
I wondered at it. Roughly rectangular in shape, and but a few inches depth, it merely looked like a well-wrapped length of wood!
My father sat down opposite me again, hands resting lightly on the table. ‘Now listen dear one, for I have words I must say. Your mother and I will not be sailing soon. Oh aye...we shall leave our beloved coastlands in due course, but not until this matter is resolved.”
I looked up with wonder, and saw there were tears in my father’s eyes. Tears, and he one who I had never known to cry! Nay, not even when the tales of the Great War were recited, and his own father’s part in the defence of the Free-Folk mentioned.
“Your mother trains again to be part of the guard here, should it come to that. Her bow sings often in the training grounds atop Merchant’s Hill. I have taken up spear again and will train on every fourth day with those others who now meet up in Compass Square. Indeed, there is recent concern in the streets over the boldness of some corsair ships, harassing our vessels off Harlond, and threatening the safety of those in the westernmost ports, that many again assemble to train in half-forgotten skills. But I shall also continue to serve in what I know best – that being the building of ships for those who would depart. Many will they be in the coming year, I fear, for there is word that this war-to-come is not ours, but the Secondborn’s, to fight. And though some are known to be most honourable, there is little hope that the Race of Men can stem the oncoming tide.”
Gently he pushed the package towards me.
“Much confidence do your mother and I, indeed, do all in this city, have in ‘Grey Watch’. Hir Curugirion’s wisdom, experience and nobility of nature are unquestioned. We have told you this before – and of our pride that he allowed you to train with his herth!’
I nodded, fingers laying light upon that on the table. Though the first it was that I had heard of unwillingness to fight from those in Mithlond, I knew from earlier discussions with Aearandir that some thought anything east of Lindon beyond our realm of concern.
‘And as for Aearandir…..’ There was a moments hesitation, my father murmuring something less salacious about mariners again under his breath, that I was reminded of my conversation with Durthand on the shores to the south, near the moored Gwingriel.
“Give this to your caun before you depart. There is a message attached. Tell him…” my father struggled a moment that I thought some less than polite comment was forthcoming…”Aiiee…the message will tell him all he needs to know!’
He looked gruff momentarily, his mouth a thin line of determination. I knew his bad mood was not aimed at me…, nor even at Aearandir who had earned his distaste for simply loving the sea. It was the situation that my father abhorred!
“A reminder for him to care well for that which is precious, if you will.”
We spoke no more of the parcel, or of my herth, or of training. But instead, took a brief walk together down the marbled steps to the harbour. I sat once more upon the shell-encrusted milestone, which had been my seat when waiting as a small child for my father to return from his day’s work. It had been some years before I could sit comfortably and have my feet touch the ground! Happy days they had been… would be again if I had my way.
So it was that later that same day I rode with haste back towards Thamas Lorn, hoping to arrive by the following eve. The summons had been well worth the ride, in my view. Though knowledge of increased alertness of those in Mithlond troubled me, lighter of heart was I that my parents would be at ‘home’ when I returned from Angmar. They would be there with no intent to leave soon.
But of what it was I carried in my pack so carefully, to be delivered to Aearandir, I had no true knowledge, only a suspicion that tugged at my heart. If I carried what I thought I did, and my father’s message was what I believed it to be, I was not sure I could hand it over. Some ‘farewells’ were best not brought to mind.
