The Lonely Star -- Chapter 4

[piosenniel]

Three days had passed in quiet routine on the Star. The Hobbrim had drilled with Pio until they felt confident concerning their role in the rescue.

It was now 19 Cermië, and the new day was just dawning. In two days the Teleri would arrive, and the rescue would begin the following night. A controlled sort of tension infused the spirit of the ship and crew as the day drew near.

Mithadan had explained to the crew that he and Pio would be taking Rose and Cami to the caverns that evening. The two Hobbits would stay with the Hobbits there until the ships came for them. Pio and he would return directly to the Star after a brief meeting with the Hobbits to answer questions and review the rescue plan.

There was some hesitation from Veritas, Khelek, and Angara that both of them would be gone from the ship at the same time. But Mithadan reassured them that they would be in no danger, and would return safely to the ship.

Ancalimon only shook his head, saying nothing.

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

The skiff was loaded. In it had been placed several air bladders and an assortment of such knives and weapons as could be spared for the Hobbits in aid of their uprising. Mithadan's mail shirt was packed in greased cloth; he would not wear it into the water. At his waist were sheathed two long knives and two blades for throwing. In addition, he carried two tightly woven lines, each a bit more than foot in length, with wooden pegs secured at each end of the cords. He was attired all in black and wore a dark grey cloak with a deep hood.

He stood by the skiff for a moment, looking to where Cami and Rose were speaking with several Hobbrim, including the wise woman. Piosenniel was engaged in conversation with Khelek and Veritas over some matter. Since their converation of three days before, to him it seemed that she wore her sadness and concern like a badge and her face seemed veiled by shadow, though maybe no other could see this. His jaw tightened and his hands closed upon the rail until it creaked under the pressure. Then he spun and, with rapid steps, went below.

He knocked on a cabin door and, upon hearing a voice within, entered. Ancalimon sat at a writing table examining a crudely drawn map of the caverns and tombs. Mithadan stood before him and spoke. "I wish your counsel, Ancalimon," he said.

Ancalimon looked up at the Man, noting the furrows on his brow. "If you wish to discuss my being prepared to effect the transfer, if you and Piosenniel cannot do so, she has spoken to me of this already. And Angara as well."

Confusion flooded over Mithadan. "She has spoken to you of this? She fears she will not return? She will be safe!"

"Even Ulmo cannot see all ends, Mithadan," he responded. "Aye. Do not be surprised. I know of his words to you and I have looked and seen the mists which he spoke of concerning your fate. And if you perish, what will she do? I know not."

Mithadan leaned heavily upon the table, and spoke raggedly. "I have brought such grief to her. Perhaps it is true: Man and Elf are not meant to wed. Would that I had never kissed her! Would that I had died in Gondolin in her stead!"

"Nay!" insisted Ancalimon. "Say not such things! For the love between you two is a wondrous thing, unforeseen and yet of great merit and beauty like the blooming of a flower amidst a frost. Do not repent of a deed done with good heart. And know this!"

He stood and took the Man's shoulders. "We of the West cannot always know the ways of Men, for you bear a great gift from Iluvatar. You forge your own paths amidst the chances of the world and the results of your actions cannot always be perceived. I am uncertain what the coming days will bring for you or Piosenniel but remember, we play a great game untying the knots and wrinkles that time has wrought in the fabric of Arda. But it is a dangerous game with uncertain ends. I know not the meaning of this but my heart forebodes that not only by the blade may your course through the world be finished. Consider your choices well, and with thought not only for now but also for your past and future for I would not have this task be the end of you."

[ October 21, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

‘I still do not like that you will be gone from the ship, Pio. One of you should stay here. We are too close to the end of this to have something go wrong now.’ Khelek’s voice was raised in frustration as he voiced his argument once again. Veritas , too, raised her objections saying that there were a number of last details that needed to be put in place before the Elven ships arrived.

‘They will simply have to wait, Veritas.’ Pio told her patiently. ‘We will be back tomorrow, late afternoon. The details will still be waiting for us then.’ She put her hand on Khelek’s shoulder. ‘We must go to the caverns, all of us - Cami and Rose to give hope to the Hobbits there, Mithadan to speak with the Elders as they requested, I to guide them. Nothing will go wrong, Khelek. Look for us tomorrow, late afternoon.’ She looked to where Mithadan stood by the skiff. ‘I must go now. Should anything arise which you feel you cannot handle, consult with Ancalimon. He also has full knowledge of our plans.’

Pio strode toward the group of Hobbrim, and, nodding at Andril, motioned for Cami and Rose to now come with her. She could feel the level of excitement running through Rose’s body as she put her arm around her shoulders and walked along with her. Rose’s eyes were flashing with the thought of an adventure finally begun. Cami though, it seemed, had banked her excitement and wore a more thoughtful look upon her face.

They boarded the skiff, now bobbing gently on the waves. Levanto leaned on the side, looking at all they had brought. ‘It will be a long trip to the caverns.’ He said, eyeing the four of them and all the equipment. ‘We should push off soon.’ He reached up and put his hand on Pio’s upper arm. ‘I hope this will be enough muscle to row all the way up the river and back again should there be no wind!’ he laughed. ‘And what’s this?’ He had found the packet of greased cloth that Mithadan had stowed away, and poked at the mail shirt within.

Pio removed the packet from his prying fingers and placed it beneath her seat. Her shirt rode up a little as she bent over. Sunlight flashed off something bright and silvery for just a moment. ‘And this . . .?’ Levanto asked, raising the hem of her tunic to find the mithril shirt beneath. She shook her head ‘no’ at him, and removed his hand gently. A small smile creased her face, as she secured the tunic with her belt.

‘Contingencies, my dear Levanto! Contingencies.’

The Mer-man gave her a doubtful look, then took the lead, swimming strongly before them, as Mithadan cast off.

Pio soon got into the rhythm of the moving vessel. It had a lulling effect on her, as she relaxed into it. She checked her weapons one last time. Two long knives, and four for throwing were secured in her belt. Two additional knives were strapped each to a forearm. She smoothed out a wrinkle in her dark grey tunic, and rolled her black leggings above her knees, letting the sun warm her bare legs and feet. Her grey Elven cloak folded small and tucked behind her head as a pillow, she put all thoughts of Gorthaur's ship from her mind and watched the flocks of seabirds that wheeled and turned in the ocean breezes.

When the time came she would be ready.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Birdland]

Birdie sat on a ledge of the cell, rubbing her legs together to break the heavy silence. She had tried to start a half-hearted riddle game, but Daisy's interest (or concentration) had waned, and there had been no answer from the Hobbit to the last question.

Bird knew that the time spent in isolation was wearing on Daisy. After the initial lift of her spirits when she had found the keys in her food, she had sank again into a bored lethargy. Bird did what she could to relieve the long hours, but she could not reveal herself by lifting her voice in song. Any games were out as well, since they had no cards or dice, even if Birdie could have carried them.

Bird sighed; the silence was becoming oppressive. Then her antennae began to itch. She shook her head in annoyance, then - remembering the last occasion - tilted it to one side and concentrated as hard as she could.

"I don't know, Birdie. How does the wizard get down?" Daisy asked in a tired voice. The Neekerbreeker shushed her, and the hobbit looked up in irritation, then curiosity, as she noticed the alertness of the insect.

"They are coming...today...they are on their way!" Birdie finally explained. But instead of a feeling of hope, the skin-changer felt only a heavy sadness and worry.

She hopped down onto Daisy's shoulder, whispering "The waiting will soon end, Daisy. And maybe there will be some way for Cami or Rose to come to you, if we're careful. Have heart." And with that, Bird leapt towards the crack under the door, waiting to catch a ride back to the Common Rooms and Loremaster.

But as she rode the hem of the passing guard, she could not shake off the overwhelming sadness she carried within her. "Pio...Pio!" she thought as hard as she could, bending her antennae in the direction she believed the Lonely Star to be. "What has happened? Why are you so sad?"

[piosenniel]

They had made good time up the river. Entering it in the late afternoon, they had covered nearly half the way to the caverns. The moon shone full and bright now in the dark night sky, an occasional, opportune cloud scudding across its surface.

'We should pull in here.' called Pio softly back to Mithadan. 'We are a little less than a mile from it.' They maneuvered the skiff in along the bank, beneath the cover of the overhanging trees. Levanto tied it off to a downed tree's trunk, partially submerged in the water.

'Are we at the caverns already?' whispered Rose, who had fallen asleep against Cami, and now just awakened with the ceasing of the skiff's motion. 'No.' came the low voice of the Elf. 'This is the place where Mithadan and I are getting out for a brief while, as we told you earlier. We have some business to conduct, and will return shortly. You need not concern yourself about it. Only stay in the skiff and keep yourselves very quiet while we are gone. Levanto will stay with you. He will keep watch.'

Pio went quietly back to where Mithadan was seated. 'Are you ready?' she asked. They would need to check for the red cloth she had marked the ship with, before they attempted to board it. If it were still there, then they would know it was the same ship she had scouted earlier.

She stripped off her tunic and tucked the unsleeved shirt covering the one of mithril beneath the waistband of her leggings. Her belt wrapped about her waist twice, holding her sheathed blades. She removed the two knives from her forearms, and laid them on Cami's lap.

The Elf offered the small pot of thick grease mixed with fine ground coal to the Man for his use. She took a generous quantity for herself, and darkened all her exposed skin. Her two knives secured once again to her forearms, she slipped into the river and waited.

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami gazed intently into the darkness, and saw the shadowy image of Piosenniel partially submerged in the river. Mithadan was just finishing his preparations and had begun to lower himself toward the waters. Cami leaned over the railing to whisper a farewell to them both.

"Good luck. Do what must be done, but take care how you do it. Keep yourself as safe as you can."

Piosenniel said nothing, but raised her hand briefly in acknowledgment, disappearing quickly under the dark waters. Mithadan soon followed. The two looked like water beasts swimming through the weeds. It was difficult to distinguish their shadowy forms from the hazy vegetation of the river.

Rose whispered ugently, "But where are they going?"

Cami shook her head and placed her finger on her lips, "Sh.... It's not the time to raise this." The older woman was aware of the presence of Sauron's vessel along the banks of the Siril, and had surmised that their mission might be connected with that.

There was only a small ray of moonlight shining down from the sky. Shadows and night-time clouds otherwise obscured the stars. This morning, Cami had regretted the sullen grey blanket over the Star. Now, it seemed more like a protective cover that afforded the Man and Elf some measure of protection.

With the departure of Mithadan and Piosenniel, the two hobbits sat quietly for a time. They could hear the soft whirring of an insect, and a few frogs croaking out a meager song. Other than that, blackness and silence reigned over all. Cami glanced this way and that, trying to make certain that no strange boats would eek out their hiding place and surprse them. Her fingers clenched tightly around her bow. But all lay quiet, and no intruders could be seen.

"When will they be back?" Rose finally broke the spell with a question.

"I'm not sure. I don't think it will be long. We're supposed to meet with the hobbits tonight."

But the moments crept forward, one-by-one, until they began to pile up, with no reappearance of the Elf or Man. Rose had nodded off to sleep once more, snuggled tightly against Cami's skirts. The older woman worried something unknown had occurred. She strained her ears for some hint of warning or reassurance, but neither could be heard.

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

Piosenniel and Mithadan made their way slowly up the river, stopping at times to listen for any sound of alarm from the ship which they approached. But all remained quiet. The Numenorean vessel was dark but for the light of the moon. There was no sign of activity.

Suddenly, Mithadan was seized from behind. He twisted and dived, drawing a knife as he turned to face this new threat. A hand grasped the wrist of his right arm immobilizing the blade and pulling him to the surface. He heard a voice in the shadows hiss, "What are you two doing now?" Mithadan relaxed at the familiarity of the voice; it was Levanto.

"Shhh," hissed the Elf. "Take care. I see movement on deck." The Man turned but he could see nothing on the vessel. Levanto floated quietly beside him. "Stay in the water," whispered Mithadan. "We'll call if we need assistance."

The two approached the vessel. It was moored to the dock with two lines and its gangway was drawn up to its deck so none could board from shore. Piosenniel swam slowly around the ship, then returned and reported that the red cloth remained in place. She then swam to the bow while Mithadan remained at the stern.

He waited in the shadows of the dock until he heard the call of a nightingale. Then he reached up and seized the line hanging over his head. Slowly, he lifted himself from the water and took hold of a davit on the deck. Pausing a moment to listen, he began to climb on board. Squirming between the rails, he stopped and laid still on the deck. He could just make out a shadowy form sitting on a barrel near the mast. The sound of soft snoring reached him.

With a soft ring, he drew his blade and crept closer, noting the hatch leading below just forward of the mast. He lifted himself to a crouch and froze as a second figure appeared behind the sailor. Moonlight reflected off a blade which flashed suddenly forward, then to the side. The sailor slumped forward. Mithadan leapt up quietly and grabbed the body as it fell and assisted the Elf in moving it to the side near a pile of rope.

The two turned and moved to the ladder which led below. At a sign from Piosenniel, he led the way down the ladder...

[piosenniel]

They had come silently down the stairs, and now stood on the gangway. The Elf placed a restraining hand on Mithadan’s arm and pointed straight ahead, indicating the direction of the cabins. A small oil lamp cast its feeble light from the galley behind them. Their shadows wavered softly for a moment in its dim glow, then vanished, as she pulled him quickly into the darkness beyond its perimeter.

Left, two – doors one and four. Right, two – doors three and four.

She took the right, leaving him the left.

The first proved easy enough. No light shone from under the door. She opened it a crack, listening intently for any sounds. Only the quiet, regular breathing of someone deep in sleep came to her, punctuated by an occasional soft snore. She slipped inside the room and stood near the head of his bunk, watching him for a few moments.

He lay on his back, his arms flung over his head. A convenient position for a quick kill. She drew the stilettos from her arms, and crouching over him, plunged both, with the full force of her weight behind them, through his neck on either side, just below the angles of his jaw. His eyes opened in a wild stare and a small ‘O’ of surprise escaped him. A tremor ran through him. Then all was quiet and still as his lifeblood gushed from him. She wiped the slickness from her hands and knives on his coverlet, resheathed them, then slipped silently back to the hall.

The second room proved more difficult. She could hear him moving about as she put her hand to the handle. A sudden light flared from under the door. She pulled two throwing knives from her belt and flung open the door. He stood, sword in hand, transfixed for a brief second by the apparition that entered, but recovered quickly. His blade came up and he moved toward her with a feral look on his face.

‘An Elf!’ he hissed. ‘And mine for the killing!’

He lunged toward her, and she threw the knives at him, sinking both deep into his upper chest. It was enough to make him hesitate for a second from the pain, but then anger got the upper hand. He steadied himself and came at her, his blade swinging at her wildly. The tip caught her on the upper left arm, slashing her near the shoulder. She stepped back from him with a sharp intake of breath, and he lunged at her again, his blade swinging in a downward arc at her.

She drew out her two longer knives, and crossing them high before her, caught the down thrust of his blade between them. Deflecting it, but barely, she ducked beneath his blade and stepped up close to him. She could see the color of his eyes. Then the spark in them flickered and went out as she drove her knife upwards and to the left beneath his breastbone. He slumped to the floor, and she left him there.

Looking to find Mithadan, and offer her assistance as needed, she went back to the hall, listening intently for any sound of him.

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan crept to the first door, keeping his knife raised as he went. The door was ajar and a flickering light could be seen within. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door an inch more. It swung without a creak, and the widened crack revealed a sailor sitting at a desk facing away from the door. Opening the portal a bit more, Mithadan slipped inside and shifted his grip on his knife. Two quick steps brought him directly behind the Man and with a single fluid movement, Mithadan covered the sailors mouth with one hand and cut his throat with the blade. The doomed sailor surged up against Mithadan's grip, then slowly settled back into the chair. Mithadan wiped his blade on the sailor's shirt and returned to the door.

He saw Piosenniel pause at the second door, then quickly enter. A muffled excalmation issued from that cabin followed by footsteps and a clash of steel. Mithadan drew his second long knife and, without hesitation, rushed forward and opened the second door on the left. The cabin was dark, but the moon's light through the porthole was eclipsed by a shadow as someone rose from his bed and fumbled for a weapon. Mithadan charged the sailor knocking him back on the bed and sank a blade into his chest. His left hand found the mariner's face and the second blade plunged into his victim's throat. The Man thrashed about for a moment, a horrible gurgle issuing from his mouth, then fell back with a final bubbling wheeze.

Breathing heavily, and not least from distaste for attacking a defenseless opponent, Mithadan pulled his knives free and returned to the door. He leapt into the hall ready to strike again, only to find Piosenniel before him.

"Mine are dead," she said simply. "Mine also," rasped the Man as he turned and looked forward along the dark hall. "Search the cargo area," she said. "I'll...prepare the bodies."

Taking a lantern from the cabin of Pio's second victim, he went forward, passing a small but vacant galley, and climbed down into the cramped cargo deck, which proved to be full of ballast, a few barrels and nothing else. He returned to the crews' quarters and found that Pio had quickly bound two of the bodies with rope and was tying a third. Mithadan entered each of the cabins in turn, taking a few weapons and, as an afterthought, a uniform which appeared to be nearly his size. Then he returned to Pio's side.

She had taken a cloth and was applying pressure to her injured shoulder. "Let me see," he said with concern. She lifted the bloody cloth to reveal a shallow and clean slash about three inches in length. "Sit," he said. He ran back to the galley and, finding several clean cloths, he dipped one in a barrel of fresh water and returned. He quickly cleaned the wound, ignoring her protestations, then bound it tightly.

"What shall we do with...these?" he asked, indicating the four still bleeding bodies lying on the deck. "We'll carry them above," she replied. "Levanto will help us conceal them."

"Whenever you are ready," said Mithadan. "Not yet," replied Piosenniel. She returned to the second cabin on the right. It was a bit larger than the others and the desk there held a small stack of papers. These she rifled through quickly. Then she froze, with one in her hand. She read it aloud, "Due to a shortage of guards and funds, the prisoners held in the tombs below Meneltarma will be slain on the morning of 23 Cermie. Proceed to the Main Entrance of the prison by 6:00 am that morning and assist the guards there as may be needed. Gorthaur."

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

'23Cermië! Good! That will be the day after our rescue, so no great additions to the guard staff will probably happen between now and then.' Pio rubbed her chin as she re-read the order, and her brow furrowed. She had been thinking only of the hobbits, and now a new thought struck her.

Mithadan had come to stand by her, and he listened as she read aloud. His face reflected a growing concern as he took in the meaning of this directive.

'You know what this means.' the Elf said, handing it to him to re-read himself. 'This has little to do with the hobbits and much to do with the Men who are imprisoned there.' She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the layout of the caverns that Bird had shown her. In the northeast section were the Locks, and she remembered Bird mentioning that in addition to the lock-ups for the Hobbits, there were also Men in the same section, but separate lock-up areas. 'A remnant of the Faithful, I think. The ones who crossed Gorthaur or did not leave the Island soon enough.' She saw a fleeting look of pain cross his face at this.

She reached out her arm, and put her hand on his shoulder. 'When we get to the caverns tonight, it will be you who are mostly busy with the Elders and the planning group. I had intended to make a brief foray to the Locks to speak with Daisy, if I could. I had not thought earlier to be concerned about the Men's area near there.' She caught his gaze with her own. 'Would you like me to see how it is situated? It would make it easier for whatever plans you now are considering.'

He said nothing then, and she pressed him no further. She turned her attention to the remaining bodies and dragged them up to the main deck, lowering them down to Levanto one by one. 'When you are done.' she whispered to the Mer-man, 'please head directly upriver to inform them we are coming.'

She climbed the mast, and brought down the black banner, stowing it in a chest on the deck below. She went below, then, and found a pair of clean breeches for herself and a somewhat clean undershirt and stowed them also in the chest. Mithadan had, by this time, come up on deck.

'I'm going now to bring the skiff up to us. You may want to clean yourself as you can, and find something a little less . . . gruesome to wear to the Hobbits' meeting. I'll clean and change when I return.' She slipped over the side, and entered the water quietly.

Strong strokes brought her quickly to the skiff. 'Cami!' she hissed at the Hobbit, drawing her attention to where she now grasped the side of the skiff. 'We have secured a ship and will now head upriver in it. Wake Rose.' She washed the blood from her face and arms, but nothing could disguise the stains on her shirt.

A brief look of distaste mingled with horror flickered on the Hobbits' faces, as she pulled herself into the skiff. 'It was necessary.' she said, simply.

She untied the craft and pushed off from the bank with a long oar. She bent her back into the rowing, as did they, and soon they approached the ship.

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami's back and face stiffened as she chastised herself for her reaction to Piosenniel's appearance.

How could she forget the lessons of Beleriand so soon? There she had seen enough blood and dead bodies to last for a lifetime. She forced herself to remember the hobbit children who had been gutted one-by-one and lain at her feet. At least these victims had been adults, each one conscious of whom they served and what they hoped to gain from it. The Elf and Man had no reason to apologize for their actions. Without clearing the river of Angthaur's spies, the crew of the Star could not hope to free the hobbits who, even now, were being tortured and murdered day-by-day.

And yet, Cami could not shake the image of Piosenniel's bloody visage. Why was it so different when you were the killer? Why should it be so much harder? And these were Men, not Orcs. Cami had to admit that running through a Man, and running through an Orc were not exactly the same thing. Better to face a dozen Orcs than look in the eyes of a man and wonder why it couldn't have been different.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Gamba's mind raced, thinking of what he had to do this evening; he couldn't miss the Candlestone game that happened every evening after dinner; there were too many guards betting on him and betting against him, and if he didnt show up, there would surely be questions asked. And he wasn't about to elt anybody else win, not with Esta's kiss as the prize. But there was a meeting scheduled that evening, and he had something he wanted to look at back at the Locks that had aroused his curiosity.

He pulled Corby aside, and Corby agreed not to let the game start til he arrived. Then he pulled Loremaster aside.

"Of course you can't miss the games, it would arouse far too much suspicion," Loremaster replied. "The meeting will be late, we will not expect you at the beginning of the meeting. Get there as soon as you can, and don't look as if you're rushed. But don't prolong the game, either. Now get to dinner."

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

While waiting for Piosenniel to return with the Hobbits, Mithadan took up a bucket and mop and scrubbed at the blood stains on the main deck and then the crews' quarters. He pulled the bloody bedding from the one cabin and cleaned the others as best he could. What to do with this vessel was a question yet to be decided. Likely it would be scuttled at sea, but for now he wished it to be free of any sign of a struggle.

He looked into the bucket of reddened water with saddness, thinking of the source of that colour. Far indeed had the race of his forefathers fallen to be in league with Sauron. He thought back to the foul jests and evil laughter of those in the Inn at Nindamos and shuddered. Even so, some Faithful remained who had not fallen under the darkness. Most of these had taken ship and were waiting the the East of Numenor for what might befall the island as a result of Ar-Pharazon's rebellion. But others were imprisoned below Meneltarma and had been condemned to die. Must he let them perish?

He had been warned against seeking to do too much. Not to do what could not be done for, to some extent, the events of the next two weeks before the Fall were set, unchangeable. But if the Hobbits could be rescued, why not the Faithful? Might they not make their way to the coast to somehow join the meager fleet of Elendil?

Unbidden, a memory of his mother, now long dead, came to him. She had absorbed eagerly the lore of his house and had passed it on to her children. "Our line dates back to the days of Beren and Luthien and their fathers and mothers before them. It is a line to be proud of, for you are the descendant of Kings. Long ago, your forefather was Tar-Elendil, King of Numenor. You are descended from his second daughter, Isilme, whose sister was Silmarien, the mother of the line of the Lords of Andunie from whence came Elendil the Tall and his sons Isildur and Anarion. And when Numenor fell and the nine ships of Elendil were rushed across the sea, your ancestors were among their crew and came to Middle Earth with them. Be proud for your line has always been counted among the Faithful..."

He smiled grimly at the memory. He never dreamed that he would see Elenna the Fair. But to see the Island at this time was more akin to a curse than a blessing. Better he had lived with the memories of his mother's tales than had lived to see the dregs of Numenor. Nonetheless, the tales of his mother played back for him in his mind, of Beren and Luthien, of Elros, Isilme...

He looked up at the moon and its silver glow; Isil the Sheen, for whom Isilme had been named and others of his line as well. And he knew, as with the shock of sudden insight, that he must make the attempt. That he must rescue the Faithful from their fate. But he shuddered again, for the words of Ulmo returned to him and spoke of his death, while those of Ancalimon bade him take care and give thought to his actions. He had done so, and he had decided and now his course was set.

He looked to the West and whispered, "Please, let my path lead me out of the tombs, for Piosenniel and for my children yet unborn..."

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Gamba scurried along the edge of the cave, hiding in the grey shadows, which threw distorted images onto the opposing wall. He darted in and out of hidden clefts seeking to escape the scrutiny of all who passed by. Whether guard or friendly hobbit, those who made their way down the dark corridor failed to note a slender youth on a secret errand.

It was dinner hour, but the boy had excused himself from the meal line with a mumbled excuse of not feeling well. Now, Gamba sped towards the Locks to scrutinize something that had caught his attention earlier in the day. Just as he suspected, the sole guard on duty lay sprawled at the table, his feet propped up, and head hanging awkwardly to one side. He was snoring loudly, unlikely to stir in the next few moments. The other guard stationed in the Locks had taken his leave a few minutes before to return to the central guardhouse and pick up their evening meals. In only a short time, he would return. Gamba knew he must be quick if he hoped to complete his task.

That afternoon, the guards had again ordered him into the musty storeroom where he had stumbled onto the old set of prison keys only a few days before. Now they bellowed that he was to clean the walls and shelves of the storeroom and begin stacking provisions inside. Heaped against the wall were sacks and barrels containing grain and other foodstuffs. Gamba had spent a good part of his day scrubbing out the storage room and lugging the overloaded bags back inside.

In the course of his explorations, he had run his hands over the rough walls and floors. What he discovered startled him. The wall was old, with huge cracks running through it. At one point the supporting beams had actually begun to tumble, exposing what was underneath. It seemed to be a narrow tunnel filled with dirt and small stones. He’d dug through the rubble in one section and stuck his hand clear through to the other side. It had to be an open space of some sort. Gamba could not be sure what was there, but he had his suspicions.

The boy knew that hobbits were not the only prisoners held in the tombs. The king had also imprisoned a number of Men here. Gamba had seen a few of them on the outside work squads. Most were felons or brigands, rough fellows with little respect for anyone. But Loremaster had once told him that there were others who fell into a much different category, members of the Faithful who opposed the rash policies of the king. Many were dead or gone, but a few, Loremaster suspected, were still being detained in hidden cells which backed onto the Locks.

Gamba slipped into the storeroom and pulled out a small digging instrument, which he’d concealed under his shirt. He pulled the sacks out from in front of the hidden enclosure, and began digging fiercely but quietly to enlarge the hole. Soon it was just large enough for an adroit hobbit to slip inside.

The darkness on the other side assailed the boy’s eyes. There was eeriness in this place, surpassing even that which he’d seen and felt in the caverns. He squinted in the darkness. He could just make out the shapes of Men locked inside a bleak pit that looked little better than a pen meant for cattle. His heart caught in his throat. This forgotten remnent must surely be the Men whom Loremaster had described.

Gamba quietly backed out of the hole and replaced the rubble as best he could. Heavy sacks of grain were again set over the opening. Then, he quickly ran out and hurried back towards the place where the others were joined to play Candlesticks.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Once back at the ship, Pio washed the sooty grease from her face and arms as best she could. She put on the breeches she had found, though they were too large for her, wrapping her belt twice around her waist tightly to keep them up. She gave her blades a cursory cleaning and secured them at her waist. The undershirt replaced her bloodied one. Over it she put her tunic from the skiff. Into her belt she tucked her cloak, still folded small. Her arm ached where the sword had cut her. She rubbed it for a moment, then put the pain from her mind.

The Hobbits sat on deck while the ship went upriver. Pio had let them know that it had been a grim scene below, and that she doubted Mithadan had been able to clear all evidence of the struggles away. Cami, especially had an acute sense of smell, and the metallic tang of old blood would sicken her senses. She was glad to be up where the fresh night breezes were the only scents she need encounter.

Mithadan was at the helm. He had at least scrubbed the blood from his face and arms, but he could find no clothing to fit him, and his blood spattered outfit gave him a grim look. He was in a strange mood, more reserved, distant. Pio left him to his thoughts, and kept watch from the bow.

When they had reached a point about half a mile from the caverns, they docked the ship along the bank, and disembarked. The arms brought from the Star were secured to one of the air bladders; Cami and Rose held tight to the other one as the Elf and Man pulled them up the river to the river tunnel.

Bird, now in her human form, had been waiting for their arrival and when Levanto had come to say they would be there soon, she had gone to get Loremaster. The three of them had helped pull the Hobbits and the weapons from the water.

When at last all of them stood on the path along the water, Pio stepped forward and greeted Loremaster. She brought forward Cami and Rose, introducing them to him as Nitir and Azra. He smiled delightedly at these legendary figures from his past returned beyond hope to them, and greeted them warmly. The Elf watched her friends fondly, feeling both glad and saddened, at the same time. It was as if she watched them fall into an old, and comfortable place from which they had never really left, a place where they belonged. She was glad for them, and even envied them this place of belonging. Yet, sadness, too, tinged those glad feelings, knowing that they had already stepped away from her.

A sense of acute aloneness struck her for one brief moment like a sharp blow, and she almost gasped with the pain of it. Then she put it away, also, as she had done earlier with her painful shoulder, carefully masking what she felt, her face blank of emotion.

Loremaster stood looking at her curiously, Nitir and Azra beside him. ‘Ah!’ she said, recovering herself. ‘Where are my manners!’ She brought Mithadan forward, and introduced him to Loremaster. They greeted each other in a cordial manner, Loremaster taking the measure of him with a few questions simply asked. He seemed pleased with the answers that Mithadan gave him, and pleased that Nitir and Azra seemed to put so much trust in him, as they chimed in to tell the Elder Hobbit of the things the Man had done to aid them.

Another Elder had come out to where the group was gathered, and bade them hurry to the meeting. It was not safe to be standing out here for so long a time. Loremaster turned and started to lead them down the tunnel toward the meeting place. Pio put her hand on Mithadan’s arm and whispered that she would meet him back on the ship. There was something she needed to do. She stepped back from the group, pulling Bird with her.

‘Are you not going to the meeting, Pio’ she asked. The Elf shook her head. ‘No need for me to be there, they’ve already heard from me once. Loremaster can introduce Rose and Cami to the group. And it seems he’s got a fair enough opinion of Mithadan, to present him well enough to the other Hobbits. I had something else in mind – something I thought you might help me with.’ She took her cloak from her belt and put it about her, pulling up the hood to cover her head.

‘Yes?!’ Bird asked, arching her brows. The Elf strode along, her face obscured within the folds of the hood, keeping to the shadows. She was making her way alongside the perimeter path, heading in a northerly direction about the prison from its western boundaries.

‘The Locks, Bird. I need to see the Locks this time. The Hobbits . . . and the Men. Can you get me there?’

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

The main cavern was filled with men and hobbits. It was lit only by a dozen or so candles, half of which went out on a regular basis amid cheering, clapping and shouts of encouragement.

Loremaster led Mithadan, Azra, and Nitir carefully around the main cavern, via side caverns and tunnels that interconnected. The game provided a reasonable distraction, and the four passed almost unnoticed. Only Phura locked eyes with Loremaster briefly, and then his gaze flickered across the three companions, and his eyes burned. But he did not stir from his spectator's seat, and quickly looked back towards the game.

"We mustn't distract Gamba, " Loremaster muttered to the three companions. "He's not nearly as steady as he would like to think. He knows you are coming, and if he sees you he will lose his concentration, and everyone will look where he is looking. Softly now." They waited on Loremaster's lead, Mith smiling, Nitir and Azra trying not to strain for a glimpse of what was going on.

"Glorified target practice, " Loremaster whispered. "Gamba will be late for the meeting, and so will anybody else that makes it to the finals. Phura may be late as well, if Azraph is in the finals. The meeting will begin with the elders. Come." He led them to the tombs.

Phura sat through the rest of the game as if on pins and needles. Nitir and Azra! He had seen them, finally, and would meet them soon. His heart raced, and his eyes glassed over, remembering that quick view of them. Ordinary little hobbits they looked, dripping from their swim, stepping stealthily along, as quiet as any hobbit could ask to be. He wondered about the grim-looking man with them.

Would the game never end?

Normally he would have been saddened by Azraph's early disqualification, but this time he consoled her gently, and whispered that he had to go.

She glared at him. "I knew you couldn't leave while I was in the running."

"You missed on purpose?"

She nodded. "Go."

He kissed her hand, and melted into the shadows.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Birdland]

"I still think you should have attended the meeting...turn left here...I can't think that the Halflings will accept Mith being there without your presence, even though I've told Loremaster all I could of him..." Elf and insect stopped and flattened themselves into the shadows as a guard passed by in a crossing tunnel. "And what are you going to do when you get to the Locks? They're guarded, y'know. Not well, but still..."

“I'll deal with that when we get there. Where now?"

“Turn right. We're almost there. Pio. I must tell you one more thing before we get there."

The Elf turned her head towards the insect on her shoulder and silently waited.

“Gamba has found Men in the prison. I heard him tell Loremaster. There is a crack in the wall of an old storeroom where he squeezed through. Oh, Pio, it is a miserable place, and these Men are chained, alone in the dark. But we don’t know where the front entrance is, and the crack is not big enough for anyone but a Hobbit.”

“Or an insect”, murmured the Elf

“Well, yes, I suppose an insect could crawl through,” agreed Birdie with a buggy grin, which made Pio turn her head in polite disgust.

“We are here. There are two guards, but they are barely competent. Mostly sleeping or dicing. Shall I go ahead and let Daisy know you are here?“

[piosenniel]

‘No, stay with me.’ said the Elf, answering Bird’s question. ‘Mithadan will do fine at the meeting. Cami and Rose can vouch for him. And it certainly appeared Loremaster had accepted him.’ She changed the subject.

'Are there any other ways into the Locks, other than the entrance I saw last time from the perimeter road?'

Bird rode within the Elf's hood. 'There are others, Pio, but they require that you pass through the Main cave to access the path leading past the Old Tombs and the smithy and beyond those, the Locks.'

'Then we will keep to this road.' said Pio, picking up her pace.

They had soon reached the entrance that led to the Locks. Bird reminded her there was a single guardhouse just down the path to the Locks. ‘You will have to find the entrance to the Men’s area yourself. In truth, I have never gone there, nor have any of the Hobbits.’

Pio drew back well into the shadows and pulled her cloak tight about her. There were two guards in the small guardhouse tonight - talking casually, it appeared, and playing some sort of game. She heard one of them swear as the other made a fortunate move, then saw him clap the other on the shoulder as if to congratulate him. She waited until another round of the game had passed. She saw one of them say something to the other, and both broke out in laughter. She took the opportunity and slipped quickly past them.

Bird directed her to the area that the hobbits were kept, and she quickly surveyed it, fixing the details of the area in her mind. She was careful not to be seen by any of the hobbits there, not wishing to frighten them. 'Where is Daisy kept?' she whispered to Bird.

Bird directed her to the small, isolated cell that the Hobbit was kept in. Listening carefully, she could hear that Daisy was not yet asleep. She could hear her soft steps as she paced within and the occasional sigh as she stopped to lean against a wall.

Pio looked about the outside of the cell. There was only a small grate at the base of the locked door that she could see would provide her a way to speak with Daisy. There were no guards in the immediate area, as far as she could see. With Bird acting as lookout, she knelt down and spoke softly through the grate.

'Daisy! It is Pio. Are you alright?'

The Hobbit thought, 'Now I have gone mad. I am hearing voices.' Her good Hobbit sense got the better of her then, and she knelt down by the grate. 'Pio?! Is that really you?'

She heard the girl's voice break, and the sound of it broke her own heart. 'Yes, little one. Mithadan, Cami, and Rose are meeting with the Elders. Cami and Rose will be staying here, now, until the rescue day. I came to tell you I will come for you three nights from this. Can you hold on until then?' The Elf held her breath awaiting the answer.

Daisy stifled a small sob, and said 'yes'. Pio took a deep breath, relieved. Had said 'no', she would have taken her from the cell then.

The Hobbit steadied her voice and told Pio of the keys and the knife she now had hidden. 'Is it a single key you speak of, or a number of them?' asked the Elf. 'A full set of them to the Locks, I think.' said Daisy. 'That news lightens my heart, little one. Can you keep them safe and hidden from from the guards?'

Pio heard Bird give warning that someone approached. 'I must go now. Someone comes. You need stay strong only a little longer. I will come for you as I promised.' She stood quietly and melted into the shadows of the cave.

A single guard passed by, unheedful of her presence. The Elf waited several moments straining her ears for the sounds of any other movements. There were none.

'Take me now to where the Men are kept.' she said to Bird, clinging to her shoulder once again. She could hear the small sigh as her friend protested she did not know where the entrance was. ‘Then I will find it on my own.’

‘Can you show me the storeroom you spoke of?’ Bird directed her to where it stood on the east side of the path that led from the perimeter road to the Locks. It stood just outside the Locks space itself, down from the guard alcove, and seemed to abut up against a stonework wall on its northern and eastern edges that ran from the Locks entry road to the perimeter road. ‘Curious!’ she said to herself, recalling that when she had traveled the perimeter road previously, she had seen another thick stonework section of wall along the interior of that road that ran halfway to the New Mines entrance. Now that she thought about it, she seemed to recall glimpsing that same stone as the back wall for the guards’ alcove. More curious was the fact that the stonework ran from the floor to the low ceiling of the cavern in this area.

‘And this is where the Hobbit found the gap in the wall and saw the chained Men?’ Bird nodded her head ‘yes’. The door to the storeroom was locked when she tried the handle. There was, she noted, a large gap between the bottom of the door and the dirt flooring. ‘Just enough room for someone Bird’s size to slip through.’ she thought.

Bird looked askance at her, antennae twitching irritably. ‘Alright! I guess I can look around for you!’

Pio looked at her and laughed softly. ‘I knew it! But don’t go now. I want to search for something I know must be in this area.’

She could not find what she was looking for along the stonework wall that ran northeast of the storeroom. The Elf sat and thought for a moment, running all that she knew again through her mind. ‘By the One!’ she swore softly to herself. Bird looked at her questioningly. ‘They have hidden it well. I will need your help to get into it.’

Bird was to be sent back out to the perimeter road, where the path to the Locks entered. She was to make what disturbance she could and draw the two guards out to look for the problem. Pio instructed her that she needed ten minutes see what she could find, then Bird needed to distract them once again.

‘Are you crazy?’ hissed Bird in a whisper. ‘Perhaps!’ said the Elf, ‘But do it for me anyway – that is, of course, unless you want me to simply take out those two hindrances.’ A throwing knife appeared in each of Pio’s hands, her fingers grasped the blades in readiness. Bird resigned herself to this dangerous plan, and moved into position.

Pio watched the two guards, cudgels in hand, amble up the path to see who was causing such a ruckus. She slipped into the alcove, picking up a ring of keys thrown on one of the tables, and worked her way along the back wall. There it was! Her keen eyes saw the door-like shape cut into the stonework wall, and her fingers found the small keyhole beneath a rough edge of stone. A few tries of various keys and she had it open and slipped in quietly, closing it tight behind her.

She stood, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. She could hear no sounds as of someone coming toward her. In the distance she saw a small smoky lamp that sat on a table. She advanced toward it, looking for who might have left it, but found no one. ‘It probably was one of those two guards playing their games in the alcove.’ she thought to herself. ‘Who would want to sit in this gloom watching other Men locked away like animals?’

‘This is good.’ she thought, as she crept about the area, peering silently into the cages at the chained figures. ‘At night, the Men are no better guarded than the Hobbits.’ ‘And why should they be.’ she thought to herself. ‘Who would defy Gorthaur and come to rescue them?’ None save the small band of foolhardy companions she found herself a part of.

She was careful to make no contact with any of the Men. There were not many of them, and the ones she could see were in dire shape. But there was nothing she could do for them now.

Pio finished her inspection of this appalling place, noting each detail of it, then returned to the door. When she thought enough time had passed, she cracked it open and saw the guards once again leaving the alcove. She thanked Bird silently and slipped out of the alcove, locking the door and replacing the keys. She waited in the shadows, until the guards returned, shaking their heads and gesturing in an irritated manner. Some time passed before they returned to their game. Then she slipped silently passed them and went quickly to meet Bird.

‘Don’t ever make me do that again!’ protested Bird, as Pio lifted the Neekerbreeker to her shoulder. Her eyes belied this complaint. There was a certain impish gleam that flared in them.

‘I do need one more thing from you, Bird. Can you enter the Men’s Locks and see if any are healthy enough to make it to safety if we should free them?’ Bird supposed that she might be able to do this, but couldn’t guarantee it. It would be hard to make contact, but she would try.

Pio thanked her and told her she could tell Levanto what she had discovered when he came the night of 21 Cermië to give any final instructions for the rescue.

They made their way quickly back to the part of the caverns where the river exited. Bird had now changed back to human form and watched as the Elf slipped quietly into the water. ‘Remind Mithadan, if you will, that I will see him at the ship. I will see you in a few days, Bird.’

She waved once and slipped beneath the surface.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

After Loremaster had said his farewells to the Elf, he turned his attention towards the women. Even with the warm summer months, the long trip up the river had left its mark on the party. Water dripped steadily from their long skirts, leaving good-sized puddles on the floor. But, this time, Loremaster had remembered to come prepared with blankets and hot drinks. Azra shuddered in the cool, dank air of the underground caverns and eagerly grasped the steaming brew. Nitir sat picking seaweed out of her brown curls, clutching the blanket about her shoulders. Every now and then, she lifted up the mug to drink and warm her chilled fingers.

Once the women were comfortable, Loremaster went over to Mithadan and explained, “We’ll wait just a bit to enter. They’re going over the details for weapons, escape routes, and who’ll be in charge of each section of the cave. I ‘m afraid, if we go in now, all that will get lost or rushed in their curiosity to meet the three of you.”

Mithadan nodded in understanding. He wandered off on his own, reading the inscriptions on the crumbling, grey stones. This section seemed to be much older that what Piosenniel had described to him on her last visit. These graves had a stark simplicity, a dignity and an acceptance of death, which was missing from the more ornate sarcophagi he’d passed on the way into the tombs. Many of them showed names in both Elvish and Adunaic, a mute witness to the friendship of Elves and Men which had lain at the heart of Numenor. He roamed on from grave to grave, noting the chiseled images and dates, overcome by an overwhelming sense of sadness. So much goodness, so much might, all passed away.

Nitir watched him go, but said nothing. He seemed to need the time alone. No wonder, after what he’d had to do that afternoon. She expected he'd return shortly.

Helen’s post

The two women sat waiting, when Phura slipped into the chamber, half mumbling apologies, but going around Loremaster until he stood by Azra and Nitir. They turned to face him, smiling.

He stood, eyes searching their faces. “Hello,” Azra said, and tears started in Phura’s eyes.

“Hello,” he replied, and began to tremble. He gently took Azra’s hands, and kissed them. She smiled. He shook his head. “At last. I can’t believe it. I-- ... Azra, welcome. I’m so glad you’ve come. So very glad.” He swiped the tears from his face, and steeled himself, and turned to Nitir.

She caught his hands, face glowing, and he studied her; he started to kneel at her feet, but she gave an indignant snort. “None of that…” Pulling him upright, and embraced him. Again, he mastered his emotions, and stopped his shaking, and managed to choke out, “Thank you so much for coming. Welcome. At last, at last.”
Loremaster told them it was now time to go in. As they entered, Nitir firmly drew Phura to stand beside her, and his eyes kept straying to them as the meeting continued.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Mithadan's Post:

The Loremaster led Cami and Rose before the assembled Elders who fell silent as they entered. Some stood as if in reverence and stared openly at 'Nitir and Azra'. Suddenly self-conscious and uncomfortable, Cami looked down and then back at her companions and noticed that Mithadan was not with them. She called the Elder to her and whispered, "Mithadan, the Man, is not here. We must find him." For a moment, a cloud of doubt crossed the Elder's face. Then he went back through the opening to seek out the Man. He returned a few minutes later with a trace of a smile on his face and motioned for Cami to follow him.

After exiting the meeting place, they turned right and in an area dimly lit by a distant torch they found Mithadan. He rested on one knee before a tomb of marble, his head bowed and his forehead touching the cold stone. Cami read the archaic runes at the foot of the coffin. "Elros..." she whispered.

Mithadan shot up at the sound of her voice and reached for a knife. Then he relaxed as he saw who had spoken. He faced the sarcophagus and bowed reverently. When he straightened, he reached out a hand and gently caressed the stone. Then he turned and joined Cami and the Loremaster. But Cami thought she perceived a new fire in his eyes.

The two Hobbits entered the meeting place. Then Mithadan ducked through the opening and stood in the dim, flickering light. A few of those assembled gasped at the sight of the Man and one jumped up as if to run. Mithadan smiled and bowed to the Elders. "Well met, my friends," he said...


working to get meeting up

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami was deeply relieved Mithadan had been found, and that he had spoken so respectfully to the Elders. Politiness went a long way in hobbit circles in bridging differences between folks. She also hoped he had found some comfort in his reverent vigil near the tomb. But now, she struggled to focus her mind on the ugent matters at hand.

Loremaster had finished alluding to the ancient lays and came to take her and Rose by the hand. The Eldars came up respectfully one-by-one to speak with them, and murmur their thanks. The younger ones hung back, either shy or otherwise reluctant to come forward.

Cami walked casually over to two hobbit girls, apparently daughters of the Elders, who looked to be no more than sixteen years. They eyed her curiously, with none of the reverence their parents had shown.

She smiled to herself. At least that was a start. She was deeply touched by the courtesy others had shown, but that was no way to get close to people and feel comfortable with them. And that is what she’d have to do, if she and Rose had any hope of making a home for themselves.

Violet stared quizzically at Cami, and actually extended a finger out to poke her. “You look like my mother.” It sounded more like a rebuke than a statement.

“I suppose I do,” Cami agreed.

“And Azra looks like my best friend who’s two years younger than I am.”

The girl narrowed her brow and concentrated, “How could you do the things that were in the songs? How could you help lead the people to freedom at Tol Fuin? I’m sorry, but you don’t look any different than the rest of us.

She glanced at Cami’s sturdy body, her curly brown hair, her tan skin, and open face. She looked so..... Violet searched through her mind for the right word, and finally found it. Nitir looked so very ‘regular’, she thought.

“To tell the truth,” the girl continued, looking a bit sheepish, “Somehow I thought you’d look more like an Elf.”

An Elf? Cami giggled. Pio would certainly hold her sides with laughter when she heard this. Why an Elf? And then it hit her. Every mortal in Middle-earth, not just hobbits, but even Men, at times wondered if they were poor imitations of the taller and wiser and elder ones who’d once lived in the light of the trees.

But she was indeed no Elf. And if the hobbits in these tombs did not believe in themselves, did not trust their own ability to do and change things, then the rescue could never succeed. And that was true, no matter how hard Pio fought, or how wise Mithadan was with his vast knowledge of strategy and tactics.

Cami chose her words with care before replying. It was one of those rare occasions when she believed that she might actually make a difference.

“If you think you're going to break out of this prison because a magic Elf will come and carry you off, then you’ll never be free. You will never be free because this rescue won’t succeed unless hobbits themselves take up arms and use their brains and strength to fight back against the evil that’s around us.”

“But even that’s not enough. If some magic Elf came and did carry you off, you still wouldn’t be free. Being free isn’t just taking the bars away. Being free is learning to believe in yourself, being proud of who you are, and not trying to pretend you’re someone else."

"You have to convince yourself first. Then, maybe, just maybe, you can convince others as well. Those Elves and Men who look at us, and only see that we’re smaller than they are. I’m not saying they’re all like that, of course, but some are.”

“That’s the only reason I’m here. To help you find in yourself what’s already there. I’m no different than you are. I can’t give you anything extra. What you have inside is enough, if only you'll learn to use it.”

Cami awkwardly plopped down on the floor beside Rose. Then Loremaster came over and took her hand. “What you just said, I want you to repeat to every man, woman, and child in this place within the next two days.”

Cami leaned towards him and beamed, “I’ll certainly try.”

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Now, it was the Man’s turn. Cami understood that a great deal hinged on this meeting. If the hobbits didn’t trust Mithadan, they would never accept his role in the rescue. And that would make everything much more difficult.

Loremaster stood up as if to begin, but Cami waved him off with her hand, and asked to speak. He quickly nodded yes.

She went over to Mithadan and tugged at his shirt, leading him into the circle. Then she indicated he should sit on the floor beside her.

She began in a quiet voice. “This Man, Mithadan, is my friend. Without him, I would not be here today. When I first started this venture, nearly a year ago, I approached many seafaring Men and asked for their help in securing a ship. Each one refused me. Many of them laughed or belittled me when I tried to explain what I wanted to do.”

“But this Man was different. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t turn away, and he took what I said seriously. Day-after-day, we’ve worked together to unravel all the riddles of the hobbit past. And when it became clear our voyage would involve great danger, he never questioned or turned back.”

“I love my people. I would never bring someone to you who would harm us. When I say you can trust him, you can do just that. Please put aside your fears. Listen to him. He wants to discuss the rescue with us, and how we can all work together.”

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Mithadan's post:

He looked out at the many faces before him, some hopeful, some doubtful and a few openly hostile. He chose to remain seated so that he would not appear so different and threatening to the Halflings. With a smile, he began.

"I have travelled long and far to reach this place and stand before you. I have stood at the sides of Nitir, Azra, Piosenniel, Bird and Levanto and have worked with them for many months now and at last we can see our long road ending. I am Mithadan, and if by act or deed, by life or death I may aid in your rescue, I will do so.

"Those who made these tombs and tunnels and enlarged these caves built well and thoughtfully. The tunnels to the northwest and the path to the guards' quarters in the southeast are the only means to enter and exit this prison other than the river. The guards discount the river because few of you swim and even if you could, where would you go? The tunnels are the key. They were made narrow by intent to lessen the risk of an escape, but more so to make those paths easy to defend in the event of an uprising. Few Men could easily hold back a much larger force for a long while in those tunnels. And of course they do not expect an uprising. Not any longer.

"But the very thing that allows the guards to defend the tunnels also allows the tunnels to be defended against the guards. Three days hence, at one hour before midnight, we will enter these caves via the river. We will not be many. Four warriors from the Lonely Star together with Nitir and Azra and perhaps a dozen or so Elves from the ships that are en route to here even as we speak. We shall hold the tunnels against the guards and release those Hobbits in the Locks. It would be best if we reached the tunnels and the locks unseen. For this reason we ask you to help us select our routes, act as our guides and perform one more task."

Mithadan looked several of the Elders in the eyes each in succession. Then he continued. "You must attack with stealth and slay any guards who stand in or enter the routes you select for us. Then once the entryways into the caves are held, all the remaining guards must be slain and the rescue may begin..."

"This is madness!" cried one of the Elders. "This Man will lead us to our deaths! And how, if this folly were to somehow suceed, would we escape?"

"Through the river to the waiting ships," answered Mithadan calmly.

"As you have said yourself, we cannot swim!"

"We will have friends in the water to assist you and air bladders to hold your heads above the water," replied the Man. "Using one, I have brought you these."

He lifted a sack and opened it revealing 15 knives of various lengths and shapes and the swords and weapons from the Numenorean vessel. The Hobbits gasped. One elderly halfling stood and walked up to Mithadan. "You mean to do this? To save us? Even at the risk of your own lives?" Mithadan nodded.

The Loremaster rose and said gravely, "Let there be no dissent! Let us agree to allow Nitir and Azra and their friends to bring us from bondage!" Some cried out, others nodded, but there was no dissent.

"We will designate several captains to speak with you of the details of your assault and our rescue later," said the Loremaster. "And Mithadan. Thank you!"

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

OOC: I will edit as needed to fit in with Mith's earlier post.

Just as Mithadan finished talking, a boy came bursting into the chamber. His face was flushed, his eyes open and alert. He'd obviously been running to try and reach the meeting before it ended.

Cami stared and stared again. Something clicked in the back of her head. She knew him. She was certain she'd seen him before. But where? And how was that even possible?

And then two images came flashing before her eyes. Images of a dream from many weeks before. Cami knew she'd seen this boy and his brother, the tall respectful one who'd spoken with her before the meeting.

The younger brother seated himself between Mithadan and Nitir. He seemed to have little fear of the Man, and no special reverence for Cami. Cami had to admit that the term 'respectful' did not seem to apply to this hobbit.

The youth held out his hand to Mithadan, and quickly explained, "I'm Gamba. Phura's brother."

He looked over at Nitir, taking in the seemingly stolid figure, then quickly dismissing her from his mind. He turned instead and focused on the Man.

"I've found something, something important."
Gamba explained how he'd been working in the Locks, and had made his way into the old storeroom. He described the keys which they'd discovered and then went on to detail his adventures from the night before, about the hole in the wall, and the Men chained inside a pen.

Cami turned, curious to see how Mithadan would respond to this strange news. She watched as his demeanor and appearance abruptly changed. Relaxation and friendliness were swept away. Instead, she saw a gaze of rapt interest and fierce determination.

Cami willed herself back to concentrtion as she heard Gamba continuing. The boy spoke with certainty, "Loremaster, these are the Men you talked about. Some of the Faithful who opposed the king. We can't just leave them to die. We need to do something."

He looked directly at the Man, waiting for an answer.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

(O.O.C. - I can move this farther down if necessary. The muse has struck now, though. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] )

Birdie slipped under the storeroom door and through the crack, crawling and leaping over rock and rubble until she gazed down on the chained men.

The air of decay and suffering was all around her. She could taste sickness through her feet, and feel the despair through her antennae. This was not the barren but spacious accommodations reserved for passive Halflings. This was where dangerous Men were kept until all fight and hope had left them. Birdie choked.

In the gloom of the cages she could not tell the conditions of individuals from here. To her insect eyes these were just massive, still shapes, all asleep or comatose. The Skinchanger leapt down to the floor of the pit and morphed to human form.

Some of the Men were nothing but bones wrapped in bags of skin. Whether they could even walk to get food anymore was doubtful. Some looked to have been here for a lesser time. Wasted and sick from want of light and air, but still able to move if motivated. One was dead. Bird hoped that he would be removed come dawn. “Please,” thought Bird, “don’t let the guard be drunk. Please let him remember to check.”

She slowly walked down the line of cages, checking each Man as well as she could in the dim light. There seemed to be some 15 or so left. Out of how many? The cages stretched on down the corridors, but only the ones closest to the door were still occupied.

Bird turned to go back to the crack, when her foot stepped on the loose dirt near the wall, and a small shower of pebbles slid to the floor. She froze as the man in the cage before her rolled his head and locked eyes with hers.

His eyes widened and he gasped as he saw a shadowy form of a cloaked woman. “Who are you?” he whispered through dry lips. The man laying next to him also turned, struggling to sit up as he saw what his companion looked at.

“Hush!” Bird whispered back and she gazed furtively down the corridor. How could she have been so stupid! But then she looked into the dark, sunken eyes of the prisoner, and her heart filled with pity. So she had been seen. There was nothing for it now. She could not leave without saying some small words of comfort.

“What is your name, Man of Andúnië?”

The man licked his lip and gave a dry cough before answering. “Gilrain, my Lady. And this is Rumil. But how came you…?”

"No, there is no time for questions.“ Bird held up her hand, and then, words came to her, she did not know from where. “Men of Andúnië. Fear not. Your time is short, but help is at hand. In three days time your prison will be opened, and you must make your way to the sea. Númenor is doomed, but hope will live if you follow the Elf-Friend to his new kingdom. Have faith, O’ Faithful!”

Bird looked around and blushed beet-red at her outburst, for now every man in the prison had awoken and were gazing at her, their eyes shining in the darkness. Quickly she morphed back into neekerbreeker form before she made a complete fool of herself. The men gasped and blinked as the woman before them disappeared into thin air.

“Well,“ thought the skin changer as she leaped for the opening in the wall. "Mith and Pio will string me from the yardarms for sure. Making promises like that to those poor Men! How could I have done such a thing? Well, if we fail, they’re all dead, and us as well, and those promises will not matter. I least I hope they won’t. Oh, what was I thinking?”

The men sat in silence, gazing at the space where the woman had stood. “Gilrain?” asked Rumil, “Who was that? Think you Silmariën herself came to us?”

“No,” breathed Gilrain, “It was Elbereth…”

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Mithadan's Post

Mithadan took a deep breath. So now it comes. Fate has stepped forward to stare into my eyes and dangle a prize before me with one hand while the other carries a sword. The prisoners looked to him expectantly, but, to his side he perceived that Cami shifted her weight and shuddered.

"Where are these Men?" asked Mithadan. "Can they be reached?"

"Their Locks are apart from the Hobbits' and I know of no way to reach them," replied Gamba. "I saw them through a crack in a closet, big enough perhaps for a small Hobbit to pass through but too small for a Man."

Mithadan's heart sank. So fate plays a cruel game and perhaps the last toss will not be mine. He looked at Gamba then back at the assembled Elders. "These Men are innocent and worthy of rescue," he began. "I...would save them also if it is possible. But not at the risk of failing in our task of releasing you from your imprisonment. If it can be done, I will attempt to do so and if it cannot be accomplished...it is the will of the One."

The Elders nodded their approval, but Mithadan heard Cami gasp at his words. He continued. "What weapons have you assembled?"

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami's eyes grew wider and wider as she listened to Mithadan's response to Gamba. The woman had no quarrel with the lad for seeing misery and wanting to help out. She could certainly understand that kind of spontaneous feeling. If she had seen the chained men, she probably would have felt the same.

The Man, however, was a different matter. From the beginning of the voyage until the end, Mithadan had warned her in a hundred different ways that they must not tamper with the threads of time. How many times had she listened to his droning lectures?

She had finally reached the point where she actually believed him. If someone had asked her whether the Star should do this or that, she would have shaken her head sadly no. Then she would have explained how they must protect the threads of time as Nienna had implored that distant day so many months ago. And that must stand even if the end result was great sorrow and longing.

Then she had come to Beleriand and learned that she must give up one who meant more to her than any other. And that giving up was very hard indeed. There was not a day that went by in which she didn't mourn her loss. But still, she had not questioned Ancalimon, or argued against her bittersweet doom. Just as the Man had said, there was to be no pulling of the threads of time outside the narrow path of the mission.

But today she had sat and heard a different tale. Mithadan had evidently been thinking for some time about stepping in and taking an active role in the rescue of the Faithful. They were his ancestors, his kin, good and decent people who deserved a chance at life. Gamba's chance encounter with the storeroom door had given him every pretext he needed to forge ahead. And no one could question his motives. For to rescue good people from shame and death was an excellent and honorable thing.

And now the hobbits had asked her to say if she agreed with Mithadan in this matter. What could she possibly say?

Cami stood up and walked out of the meeting, and squatted down in one of the side chambers. Tears streaked down her face. She had certainly been a fool, she thought. Her own desire to stay on Tol Fuin was as honorable and justified as any other cause. The hobbits had just been released from prison. They needed someone with her skills and dedication to help put all the pieces back together again. Even Ancalimon had acknowledged that fact. She could have stayed and done so much good, and she could have been so very, very happy.

Instead, she was left with a dull emptiness, and the assurance that she had sacrificed and done the right thing in protecting the fabric of time and following the dictates of the Valar. Yet, when she looked at Mithadan, happy with his wife and children soon to be, and going ahead with plans to rescue the Men, she thought maybe she had made the wrong choice. For one wild instant, Cami thought of comandeering the Star and pointing it back towards Tol Fuin in those first years of the Second Age. She would forget the silly restrictions of the threads and take the beautiful things she wanted in her hands just as the Man was seeking to do.

Rose left the meeting and glared at Mithadan. She ran down to the alcove where she could hear Cami sniffling. The two of them had talked about this problem so many times that Rose instantly knew the reason for her friend's despair.

Cami hugged Rose, and buried her head in her shoulder, "I'll be alright. I promise. It's not really his fault. He made the best decision he could, and so did I. Only mine seems so hard sometimes. If he can do it, if he can pull the threads to bring such happiness to so many in that prison, and still bring joy to his wife and family, how could I possibly question him?"

For the first time in her life, Cami understood the sadness that lay behind the name "Little Andreth", and, like Andreth, there was nothing she could say or do to change the seal of her doom. She knew enough to understand that her own life had seen its own small store of riches. Many had walked a tougher road than her own. Yet she still could not comprehend why one person should find things so easy, and another meet only hardship along the way. She wondered who doled these portions out.

She turned to Rose. "Tell Loremaster that I respect and honor the choice that Mithadan has made, and that they must do whatever he says. And tell Mithadan. Tell him that I ask only one thing, that he will respect my choice not to return to the ship on the night of the rescue. I will stay here with my people." And for the first time Cami wondered if she would ever leave the tombs or see the light of the stars again.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had just turned to make her way out of the tombs, when she heard the quiet footsteps of hobbits leaving the meeting, one-by-one. Then she saw Rose and Mithadan walking together. The Man's eyes looked tired and haunted. Cami wondered what else Rose had said to him, but decided it was better if she didn't know.

She turned to the Man and smiled, "Please give Pio a hug when you see her. I'll be fine. Rose told you we're both staying the night of the rescue?"

The Man looked at her intently, "If you feel it's that important, then you need to stay. And, Cami," his voice hesitated, "if it's any help, I'm as haunted as you are wondering if I've made the right choice. I don't know. I'm only doing what I feel I must, what is right and honorable. In that respect, we are alike."

She nodded her head in agreement.

As they walked along the passage, Gamba joined their small group. They soon came to the chamber where they had found the Man before the meeting.

HELEN'S POST:

Once again, Mithadan paused by Elros' marble tomb, and knelt.

Gamba approached Nitir, and tossed out a question as if he was flinging a challenge at her-- the Loremistress. Would she be like all the rest?

"What is he doing that? Worship?"

"No, " Nitir answered. "Deference and respect. Elros is his ancestor, but more than that, Elros was a good and wise king. Mithadan strives to be as much like him, and like the other noble Numenoreans of old, as possible."

Gamba blinked.

No riddle? No question, no mystery, no long convoluted chain of barely connected facts leading absolutely nowhere?

Just an answer.

In three brief sentences, she had taught him to love this man, this Mithadan. He reviewed the statements about him: deference and respect for a good and wise king, with the hope that he, too, could be good and wise.

Mithadan stood and moved on, and Nitir followed him. But Gamba stood rooted, thinking. The candles faded as Gamba struggled with his sudden, newfound love for a man he did not know, and realised that it had been gifted to him by a lady that he did not know. How did they do that?

How did she do that?

Phura came back around the corner. "Aren't you coming?"

Shaking himself back into motion, Gamba followed his brother out.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami and Rose parted from Mithadan, and wished him speed in returning to the skiff. Bird had come down to see him off and buzzed about, happy to see her two friends for the first time in many days. For a few moments, they discussed the possibility of Cami visiting Daisy in the Locks. Bird had an idea and promised to take her in the morning.

Within a few moments, the three were joined by Loremaster. He said he'd found a family where Cami and Rose could spend the night. Then he'd smiled and added, "And I suspect, they would't mind you coming along too, Bird."

HELEN'S POST:

Loremaster led Nitir and Azra to Azraph's father's alcove, and Azraph and her sister Nitir, and her mother made them welcome and as comfortable as she could, which wasn't very. Nitir remembered all too well what prison comforts were-- mainly, few and far between. All these hobbits had was each other.

More than once as they prepared for sleep, Azraph and Azra faced each other, smiles turning to giggles; they were both eighteen, both resistant to boundaries, and both eager to see beyond their current horizons. They were friends at once.

Nitir spoke with Azraph's mother as they settled for the night, but she found herself adjusting to the rock floor beside Azra and Azraph. It was not condusive to sleep. Neither was the giggling between the two girls. She sighed, and decided to relax and enjoy it. She rolled over.

She could almost see into the Loremaster's study. She thought she saw Gamba sitting cross-legged on the floor, rocking a small child. She wondered if she saw others huddled around him.

She rolled back over, noting that Azraph was watching too. Azraph smiled. "They're good to those boys."

Nitir considered her. "How many boys do they care for?"

"Five."

"Five?"

"They're all good boys. Obedient." Azraph sighed, a little. "Usually Phura comes to say good night, " she whispered, "but tonight he was out too late."

"Oh, " Nitir said, smiling a little. Not long after, Azraph drifted off to sleep.

Nitir lay awake on her hard pallet a long time after that, thinking about the tangled events of the day and listening to the tiny chirp of a lonely neekerbreeker.

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

Birdie sat quietly in the folds of Cami's threadbare blanket, rubbing her legs together in a gentle, repetitive song. Her antennae were pointed towards the tunnel, down to the water. She wondered if anything was reaching out beyond the walls of the cave, but she did her best.

"15...not strong...they await..."

Finally, the skinchanger yawned and slept herself.

[piosenniel]

The swim back to the ship was turning out to be a pleasant one. The full moon shone brightly on the river, and the air was warm. She floated for much of the trip on her back, letting the current carry her down the river like an otter.

She passed a grouping of trees and rock that she remembered were just north of the ship. The Elf flipped over on her belly and paddled slowly to the ship. The thought of going back on board held no interest for her at the moment. Instead, she climbed up on some wide flat rocks along the river bank, and lay down there, beneath the trailing branches of a large willow.

Moonlight dappled through the leaves, and the sound of the water rose up like music as it flowed up and over and round the rocks and stones at the river's edge. It was an altogether lovely moment of grace in a long and dreadful day, she thought.

A tiny buzz of sound interrupted her pleasant thoughts. She cocked her head and listened closely, trying to pinpoint the location from which it came. 'No! It can't be! A look of surprise and alarm was on her face.

15...not strong...they await...

It was Bird! Sending a sing-song message to her. Untrained, her thoughts were broadcasting on a wide band. And they were strong and loud.

Pio risked a short, focused message, She was afraid that Gorthaur might sense her friend and send people to investigate, or worse yet,discover the source of the sending himself and clamp down on Bird with his mind.

Understood . . .no more sending . . .Danger

The night around her seemed to grow still. Pio relaxed her mind and heard no more from Bird, nor did she sense any interest generated from other quarters by the short message she had sent back.

She breathed easily again and allowed herself a small smile. Bird had a natural talent for osanwë! What a gift to share with a friend. Pio sighed, wishing this dreadful time to be over and quickly.

Mithadan would soon return to the ship. She swam back to it and climbed aboard to wait for him. He would be interested in Bird's message concerning the Men.

The gentle rocking of the ship in the river's current made her think of happier days - clear sky above her, a sturdy ship beneath her feet, the wind at her back, and good friends round her. Soon, she hoped. Soon.

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

Gamba awoke, and stretched, and got up despite the complaints of the children he had disturbed; it was time for breakfast. Phura stirred and sat up, and the children grumbled and resettled, huddling together for warmth.

Gamba turned, hesitating, before heading off to the breakfast line. Phura waited.

"She's different."

"Who?"

"Nitir. She gives answers."

Phura did not know what to say, and Gamba went off to breakfast.

[Rose Cotton]

At first her days in the locks were filled with worry. Doubts spilled into Anee's head from every direction. How could this work? What chance did they have? Why couldn't Nitir, Azra and all these other shadows of the past just leave them alone? But slowly as the days went by Anee grew bored of her anxiety and slipped into a depressed state instead. When she spoke with Daisy it was to discuss the plan for the hobbits to escape.

Now, however, Anee was jarred from her thoughts when she heard Daisy whisper "Pio, is that you?" Pio? Pio the elf? It couldn't be. Elves were just fairy tales the elders told. But then Anee heard a voice that she was sure did not belong to any hobbit. She crawled over to where Daisy sat and listened to the voice. It sounded soft and comforting in her ears like sweat music. After Pio left Anee turned to Daisy and said with new exitement, "So they really are real!"
"What?" said Daisy.
"Elves!" For hours Anee pestered Daisy with questions.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami awoke with a start the next morning. A loud 'neekerbreeker' was being broadcast directly into her right ear. She stretched and yawned, and tried to roll over again, hoping to fall back asleep.

The neekerbreeker chant continued, and indeed grew successively louder. She glared at Bird who now hopped down to perch boldly on her shoulder.

"You're too early," Cami grumbled to her friend.

The response came back clear and insistent, "Not if you want to go see Daisy. I've been blowing in your ear for the past ten minutes. I have managed to secure you a truly choice assignment that you will want to take advantage of. Both you and Rose."

"Where is Rose?" Cami mumbled.

"She's already up and in the breakfast line. There will be no breakfast left unless you hurry. I, however, will feast royally on the remains of the day, whether or not you get anything."

Cami wished she had a pillow to hurtle in the direction of this enormously cheerful and annoying insect. Upon hearing the warning about her breakfast vanishing, she did manage to stir herself off the ground and began looking for her clothes.

"My clothes, they're not here," she muttered in alarm, looking at the place where she was sure she'd left them.

The cheerful insect voice came back to her, "Oh, no, those were too good for the job you'll be doing." Cami wondered exactly what this new job might entail. The insect's words did not sound promising. She went over to the pile of tattered garments which Bird insisted she put on.

In a few moments, she dressed and propelled her body in the direction of the breakfast line where she picked up a small roll and a portion of mush. She saw a few folk were actually chewing on apples. Unfortuntely, it was too late to take advantage of that. The apple platter was empty. Tomorrow, she reminded herself, she'd do things differently.

Rose and Azraph were seated and nearly finished with breakfast by the time Cami joined them. An old man in rags sat beside them. It took her a moment to realize that the figure in threadbare pants and shirt was actually Loremaster who'd dressed the part in order to accompany them.

What was this important job? But when she asked Loremaster, he only smiled and told her she would see directly after breakfast. Then he handed her a shovel which she set down on the ground beside her as she ate.

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Phura, roll and apple in hand, joined them, sitting next to Azraph, smiling nervously and trying to look nonchalant. He failed. Loremaster growled at him. "Don't ruin our disguise."

"That's one of the reasons I came, " Phura muttered. "You'll have to put more dirt on them. Their skin looks too brown."

"Oh, " Loremaster muttered, glancing at the women. Phura was right, and he nodded at them. Nitir sighed, but being seated on the floor, she casually rubbed her hand in the dirt, and then itched her nose, her neck, her forehead. Azra's heart sank. "Get busy, " Nitir told her. She complied.

Phura stared at Azra as she did, and Azra scowled at him. "I suppose you think this is funny."

"No! I'm sorry. No, I don't."

Nitir frowned at her now filthy hands, and having no spoon, realised she had to somehow eat the mush with them. Perhaps she could scoop it up with the bread, holding the bread in ... her filthy hands. She sighed. "Come on, Rose, pretend you've got lice, and get busy."

"Eew, " Azra sighed. "Will you quit staring?" she hissed at Phura.

"Sorry, " Phura mumbled. Azraph squeezed Phura's hand, beaming at him, and Loremaster stifled a smile. Phura inhaled his beakfast and departed.

[Mithadan]

Mithadan swam slowly back to the waiting Numenorean vessel. Reaching it, he knocked on the hull to give warning of his presence, then clambered up to the deck. Piosenniel stood waiting for him.

"Is all well?" she asked. "Have the Elders approved of our plans?"

"Yes," he replied. "They have. And I have spoken with their captains about preparations and tactics. They are eager to make this attempt. I will wear red scarves about my neck and arms so they will not mistake me for a guard and slit my throat as well."

"Well," laughed Piosenniel. "That at least is good planning."

"Pio," he said. "It is as I feared. There are Faithful imprisoned here as well. But the Hobbits do not know how to reach them. It may be that they must die."

"I know," replied the Elf. "I have seen them." And, as Mithadan's eyes widened, she recounted her discovery of the door within the guard's alcove and Bird's message concerning the prisoners.

"You are a marvel," he cried. "Maybe they can be saved as well!"

"Maybe," mused Piosenniel as she brought up the anchor. "But the risk is increased if we do so. And what of Idril's warnings against attempting to change what cannot be altered? Consider this choice carefully, Mithadan."

"I have," he responded.

[piosenniel]

Isil cast a sheen on the waters, a silvery path leading them back to the Star. Pio stood at the helm, guiding the ship downriver. She had sent Levanto ahead to warn of their arrival in the Númenorean ship. Khelek and Veritas would not be pleased to see the approach of an unknown craft, and she did not relish the thought of Ancalimon firing shots across their bow with his pyrotechnics.

Mithadan sat in a chair at the bow, his feet propped on the railing. He had draped a clean blanket about his shoulders to ward off the chill of his damp clothes. He looked so tired, she thought, and weighed down with so many cares. She often longed these days to hold him close and tell him all would turn out well. But her heart misgave her when she thought of what might happen in the next few days, and she knew that he would see it. ‘Better to keep your fears to yourself, he has enough of his own.’ she told herself.

And now a new concern niggled at the back of her mind. He had set his course to set free the remainder of the Faithful in Númenor. He was resolved to do this, and she understood that no reasoning would turn him from it. A sudden laugh escaped her as she turned this worry over in her mind, trying to see her way through it. ‘By the One! The Man is as stubborn as I am!’

Since she could see no way to dissuade him, she thought then to make a plea for his safety to the Valar in the West, but she had always found them to be curiously reluctant to engage themselves for the sake of those in Arda. Their view, of how the affairs of the created should go, were often from a quite different perspective than hers - one which often offered no comfort to those involved.

‘The Valar help those who help themselves.’ had long been one of her favorite sayings. 'What would it take to swing the advantage our way?' she wondered. The Elf drummed her fingers on the wheel as she thought it through.

Slowly, her plan took shape.

************************************************** ***********

Day was just breaking when they reached the their ship. She hailed Veritas as they came up beside the Star and dropped anchor. Mithadan dozed in his chair, and she woke him with a gentle prod to his shoulder and a light kiss.

‘Come! We are back now.’ she urged him. ‘Go rest for a while. You have need of it, and time now for it. I will wake you should we need you.’

A clear elven light shone bright from her eyes as they stepped on the deck of the Lonely Star. And he wondered at it briefly. Then, tired, he went to his bed, and sleep claimed him.

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As soon as breakfast was over, Loremaster guided Cami and Rose into a side alcove where they could speak more freely. "The most important thing is that you manage to talk with the hobbits. Let them know who you are and why you're here." He looked straight at Cami, "What you said last night was perfect. Only it'll need to be...."

Loremaster hesitated. Outside, a guard strolled by. Then the footsteps halted. Suddenly Loremaster grabbed his shovel and dug a trench along the edge of the cave. The women picked up the cue and began digging.

The Man headed in their direction. His suspicions had been aroused by the guarded whispers he'd heard. He wanted to check on things. He eyed the three hobbits warily. Cami's heart began to pound. She kept her eyes down and said nothing.

"Are you supposed to be here?" came the rasping voice. "And what's this?" He pointed accusingly at the straggly ditch.

Loremaster mumbled some excuse which apparently satisfied the guard. He looked down at the hobbit and nodded his head, as if the words made perfect sense. "A trench, certainly. The prisoners will dump their garbage here after a meal."

He continued. "They made a big mistake picking you for this job. That one can stay." He pointed towards Rose. "You two, find something else to do. We need young, strong hobbits for such work."

Cami lingered for a moment in the alcove, reluctant to leave Rose's side. "Be gone, you old hag!" The guard glared at her and thrust a shovel in her direction.

"Old hag, indeed!" Cami grimaced. "We'll see who's an old hag two nights from now." But, fortunately, she said nothing.

Loremaster gently nudged the woman towards the main passageway, whispering in her ear, "Rose will be fine. We'll come back later, once things have settled down."

After a goodly number of paces, Cami couldn't resist turning around to stare. She glimpsed several hobbits with shovels gathering near the ditch, working under the direction of the same guard. When he saw her looking back, he raised his fist and shook it in the air.

As they hurried on, Cami said to Loremaster, "It was the same for us! No one in charge of the camp had the slightest idea what anyone else was doing. But they'd never admit it. They just played along. They wouldn't ask questions because they might look foolish."

There was silence between them until Cami spoke again. "What if, someday, Men made a big camp like this, and they did know what was going on? What if they kept track of things, and had everything perfectly organized?"

Loremaster stopped. His eyes were grey and sad. "Let's just hope we're not alive to see that."

A quiet tremor rose in Cami's heart, but passed quickly as Loremaster again responded. "Come. That's not our worry. Leave it for another Age. We've enough trouble on our hands."

"And, look, here's our first work area." He pointed toward a crowded sleeping nook still filled with hobbits leaving for their morning jobs.

"Exactly what do we do?"

"Garbage collection!" he pointed to a section where there were thick layers of straw, filthy and matted. A few flies buzzed overhead. The pails that had been placed there were by now overflowing.

"I was afraid of that," Cami sighed. If only she were a few years younger, she might be digging ditches instead. Then she laughed. "Where do we take it?"

"Out to the crop fields in these." He held up large cloth bags. "By the end of the day, you'll have seen every corner of this camp."

As Cami began her labors, she heard the tiny giggle of a neekerbreeker coming from just inside her collar. "She'll be sorry when I catch her in human form!" But even the hobbit had to laugh at the predicament she was in.

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As the day wore on, Cami found to her embarassment that she was doing more talking than working. Loremaster insisted she speak with as many hobbits as possible so he took on most of the chores. Only when guards unexpectedly appeared did Cami get down to the serious business of mucking out the caves.

All the hobbits had been warned about her visit. Wherever she went, they swarmed about, shyly asking her to kiss their children or tugging gently at her skirts to make sure she was real. Many asked where Azra was. Once or twice, guards gave her a curious stare. She tried not to draw attention, but it was difficult.

In the afternoon, Loremaster and Cami walked back to the place where they'd left Rose. The trench was coming along nicely. It had grown deeper and longer by a considerable amount. Cami shuddered at the thought of the large mounds of garbage which would soon be piled up in such an unlikely location. She shook her head to see the folly of it all.

Loremaster spoke with the guard who'd been there since the morning. He had placed himself in charge of the project. Now that the trench was finshed to his satisfaction, he agreed to let Rose return with them.

By late afternoon, Cami and Rose were finally on their way to the Locks, armed with shovels and cloth sacks. Arriving at the enclosure, Gamba barely tipped his head to them, enough to acknowledge their presence but not to alert the guards.

Rose went into the large communal cell. Anee stood by and held the sack open while she completed her tasks. None of these prisoners had been told of the rescue, but Anee whispered that she would do this the next afternoon. With guards so close, and no place to hide conversations, it was too risky to let the hobbits know earlier than that.

Cami had cleaned out Pansy's cell, and now waited impatiently for the guard to bring the key for the door to Daisy. He addresed her in a gruff tone, telling her to hurry about her business. Cami knew she would only have a moment or two, not enough for real conversation. But at least Daisy would know that she was here, and they would do their best to get all of them out.

Slowly, the door swung back and Cami stepped inside the dark enclosure. How very grim! When Daisy saw her friend, her jaw dropped open in surprise. Fearing that she might cry out, Cami ran up and placed a hand over her mouth.

"No, little one, sha, sha. We don't want anyone to hear." Few words passed between them. Daisy stood close, and lay her head on Cami's shoulder. The older woman hugged the girl tight, said how much she missed her, and told her not to give up hope. It seemed like only a few seconds before the key began turning in the lock. They quickly separated. Daisy looked at Cami with tears in her eyes.

There was little more that could be done to help until the rescue. But, before she left, Cami whispered under her breath, "Only a little longer. Just hold on!"

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Throughout dinner that night, Phura was staring at Azra, again. Azra glared at him, trying to decide whether to be amused or embarassed, and finally said, "What? What's the matter?"

"Forgive me, " Phura blushed. "I shouldn't stare. I just--"

Nitir smiled. "Phura, don't worry. We're just like you. "

"That's what amazes me, " Phura replied.

Nitir raised an eyebrow.

"All when I was growing up, " he stuttered, "I read about you. About Nitir and Azra. And I thought- I always wanted--"

They waited. Phura staring at the ground, fumbled for Azraph's hand, and then spoke. "I-- the-- the reason that I first fell in love with Azraph-- was, was that I thought she was well named. That her character resembled her namesake, " he said, now fully crimson. "And, and I was right. Azra, you are like her." He was quite finished now, and far too embarassed to even meet their eyes. Azraph smiled at him, cheerfully, and squeezed his hand, and he took refuge in her gaze.

Azra, also blushing, didn't know what to say, so Nitir spoke. "Well, then, Azraph must be quite a character. Does she give the adults around her headaches very often?"

"Cami!" Azra replied indignantly.

Phura and Azraph both laughed. "Sometimes, yes."

"Well, Rose, " Nitir smiled, "three thousand years can do a lot for a reputation, but they know you are an imp. You can't hide that."

Phura was now far too embarassed to sit still. He kissed Azraph's hand, took the remains of his bread crust, and fled.

Azra stared at Azraph, not knowing what to say. Azraph smiled back at her. "What's the matter?"

"Aren't-- are you upset?"

"What, jealous? No. I was jealous of the other girl at first. Daisy. But now I know better."

"You do?" Nitir replied, a little startled. Azra wasn't quite sure how to respond either.

Azraph looked confidently at Azra, and smiled, and shrugged. "He told me I don't have to worry. And it's true. You know, he's practically worshipped me for seven years now. Azra, you're a really, really nice girl, and I'm glad you're my friend, but-- in the end, to him you're just a legend." Azra's jaw dropped, and Azraph gave her a warm hug. "Cheer up. It's nothing personal. But I'm not afraid of you taking Phura away from me."

Nitir patted Azra's shoulder. She understood what Azraph was saying, but she wasn't quite sure that Azra would.

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]