Chapter 24. Ring Out, You Songs, Resound, You Strings!

They stayed an extra day at Michel Delving, though by the next afternoon, as he started to feel better, Regi fretted at the delay.

'What if the babe is born today?' he asked in frustration.

'You'd still miss it,' Ferdi said practically. 'It'll take us another two days to reach the Smials, after all.'

'You're no help at all,' Regi growled, but Ferdi only smiled and patted his shoulder.

'On the contrary, I'm a great deal of help,' he said, 'but you'll only realise it after I'm cold in the ground.'

'Perish the thought,' said the Thain with a shudder.

'You have caught a chill,' Ferdi said accusingly.

'No, no I haven't,' Pippin said, unaccountably subdued. He could not explain the feeling, what the old aunties called "someone tugging at my shroud".

Ferdi jumped up to refresh Pippin's tea from the steaming kettle anyhow, and threw another log on the fire for good measure.

***

Jessamin found Bessime and Ha'anas shortly after they turned away from the wall. 'Wonderful news,' she bubbled, catching at their arms. 'Mighty indeed is the Maker! Merciful is the Law!' She bowed and made the sign of the Law, adding 'Glory and honour and blessing forever!'

'Hush,' Bessime said urgently. 'Just because the little ones escaped...'

'They escaped?' Jessamin gasped. 'O of course they did!' She bowed and made the sign of the Law again. 'The hand of the Maker was upon them.'

Ha'anas pulled her to him and put a hand over her mouth. 'Please, my lady,' he said. 'Calm yourself.' To a curious guard, passing by, he said, 'The lady has seen a spider and was in hysterics until I killed the creature.' He stomped a foot for good measure and raised his voice. 'It is quite dead, I assure you, my lady!'

He looked deeply into Jessamin's eyes and slowly took his hand away. 'Quiet, now?' he whispered.

She nodded, but the look of unhoped-for joy did not fade. 'The Lion is dead,' she whispered.

'Dead!' Bessime exclaimed, then remembered to lower her voice. 'How? When?'

'In the night, he and many of his cronies, all who ate with him at the feast,' Jessamin whispered back. 'And the others...' here her bright smile faded, and she shuddered.

'What?' Bessime hissed.

'They... they went to the dogs, this morning at dawn, all who did not eat of the stew and die.' She shuddered again. 'Ha'asad was one.'

'Eaten?' Ha'anas said incredulously. 'By his own little pets?'

'I think I'm going to be ill,' Bessime said. 'And what of Ha'aran, then?'

Jessamin pulled back a silken sleeve, and her sister gasped. 'The marriage bracelet!' she said. 'Last night?'

Jessamin nodded. 'I am not a widow this morning,' she said. 'The Lion never completely trusted Ha'aran, and it turned out he had good reason, in the end. Ha'aran's the one who told General Ha'alan what was to be put into the stew.'

'Did he tell him about the goats?'

'No, he told him on his way back to kill the little ones, so of course he did not know about the goats at that time.'

'Then the general didn't know about the goats, either,' Bessime said slowly. 'He thought the little people were...' She put a hand to her mouth. 'O I think I really am going to be ill.'

'The general could not save the little ones,' Jessamin said, 'but he arranged for the stew to be tainted, made it look like the Lion's orders; as the stew was being made up to honour the special guests, it was not hard to convince the head cook... who thought the guests would be eating the stew.'

'We have news of our own,' Bessime said, firmly changing the subject. She pulled her own sleeve back, and Jessamin looked from her arm to each of their faces in turn.

'Last night?' she whispered.

'Was it only last night, my husband?' Bessime said, emphasising the title, looking up at Ha'anas.

'It was, my wife,' he answered, smiling down at her.

Bessime smiled serenely back at her sister. 'Yes,' she said, 'I do believe we have confirmed that the marriage bracelets were exchanged last night.'

A wild yell went up from the city wall, more voices joining in, and still more, until it seemed as if the walls and towers and rooftops themselves were shouting. The conspirators joined in, at the top of their lungs, to swell the joyous clamour. The news had been made public. The Lion was dead.

***

Elessar had persuaded the general to rise to his feet, take back his weapon, and have a seat. He called for wine, though the sun was not yet halfway to zenith, and they solemnly toasted the future.

The prince and the Wood Elf sat upon the ground, close together, arms protectively curved about the sleepy young hobbits nestled in their laps. The prince's eyes were wide with wonder and sparkling with joy. To find that his little creatures were people only added to his delight. He was saddened to hear of King Ha'alassar's ban, that he could not enter the far country his little friends inhabited, but it was enough to know that they would return to their own place in safety. His heart would not be oppressed by the knowledge that he had caused their destruction.

'I wish I could see their country some day,' he said wistfully.

'You might be able to see it, at least, even if you cannot set foot upon its soil,' Legolas answered slowly.

Gimli snorted. 'Do not tell me,' he said. 'The plan is to sail the hobbits home to Buckland.'

'Much faster and easier than for them to journey by waggon,' the Wood Elf answered. 'The Dove is already anchored off Haragost, awaiting the King's command.'

Gimli sighed. 'I had wanted to visit the cousins again soon...' he said. 'But... by ship...' He shook his head in disgust. 'The sacrifices I must make,' he rumbled.

The King had called his scribe over. 'I want this message sent off to Buckland at once,' he said. 'Master Meriadoc can send the news on to Thain Peregrin. Tell him we have recovered the hostages, safe and sound.'

'Yes, my Lord King,' the scribe said, and began immediately to write. He had just started to write down the names of the hobbits rescued when a great tumult broke out in the city, startling everyone. The guards jerked to attention, and those who were seated jumped to their feet, including the scribe, with the exception of the elven prince and the prince of Haragost, who were mindful of their sleeping charges.

'What is it?' Imrahil asked the general.

The man took a deep breath and said, 'I think the news has become known; the Lion is dead.' He bowed low before the prince of Haragost, and rose again, joy shining from his eyes, daring to hope at last. 'The king is dead!' he shouted, only to be hushed by his new liege. In a whisper, he finished, 'Long live the new king!'

'I thank you,' the prince said regally, with a kingly nod.

A guardsman stuck his head into the tent. 'The messenger is ready, my Lord King,' he said.

The scribe hastily recalled his business, rolling and tying the scroll, dripping the hot wax and applying the seal of Gondor, handing the message to the guardsman, who bowed to Elessar and withdrew.

***

From original posting, several years ago

Note to Readers:

"The Law" as used in this story is not meant to resemble any modern system of belief. In other words, I made it up, after thinking about how a society of proud warriors not recognising the beliefs of Numenor might be ordered.

Thank you for the comments! Reviews keep the Muse happy.

Have written well ahead in this story, and "Flames" as well, so look forward to daily updates for the nonce, unless something happens to interrupt.

I have added a new chapter to "Flames" as well, in case you are following that story.