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The Last Messenger: A Tale of Númenor  by Fiondil

12: Escape

Laurendil could only stare in disbelief at the Elf crouched before him, his mind reeling. "They said you were missing," he whispered, "that the ship went down. I searched and searched but...."

Eärnur moved to take his friend into his arms as the older Elf succumbed to tears. "But they never said I was dead, did they?" he whispered.

That brought Laurendil up cold and he pulled back from Eärnur, his expression now one of anger. "They lied! Lord Námo lied! They... they made us believe you were dead!"

"Or they simply didn’t bother to correct your assumptions based on what you knew, or thought you knew," Eärnur replied calmly.

Laurendil just stared at him, unable to formulate an answer. "Why are you so calm about this?" he finally asked.

Eärnur smiled gently. "I’ve had four hundred years to think about it, meldonya," he answered. "Now, enough about me." His tone became more brisk and business-like. "That child needs tending and if you’re here to rescue him, you had best do it quickly. Breaking that doorspell the way you did will have alerted the wrong kind of people."

Laurendil wanted to argue with that for he had too many questions roiling within him, but realized that every second’s delay was just asking for trouble. He nodded. "Can you get up?" he asked, standing and giving the other Elf a hand. Eärnur nodded, grabbing the proffered hand and rising. He was as naked as Fiondil though he seemed not to be quite as filthy looking.

Eärnur eyed his friend critically, noticing the shorn locks and smiled. "You and Vorondil..." he shook his head in amusement but Laurendil paid him no mind, going instead to Fiondil’s side. The young Man was still unconscious.

By now everyone else was inside the cell with the three younger Mortals gazing in surprise at the nude Elf who stood there seemingly unembarrassed by his nakedness. Laurendil pulled out a small phial of cut crystal from a pouch hanging off his belt and undid the cork. At once the entire cell was filled with the mingled scents of losilli, helinyetilli, nieninqui, asëa aranion and yavannamírë. The air seemed brighter and their hearts lifted in solace.

"Lift him up," he commanded Ercassë, who still knelt with Fiondil’s head in her lap. She complied with his orders and the Elf pressed the phial to the Man’s mouth, letting only a drop or two touch his lips before recorking the phial and returning it to its pouch. Fiondil opened his eyes, staring uncomprehendingly about.

"Eärnur, he whispered. "Where..."

"Here, mellon nîn," Eärnur said as he sank to the floor next to Fiondil, brushing a hand through the young Man’s matted hair, giving him a smile. "And look you, did I not promise that help would come? Now we must away ere Sauron’s lackeys come looking for us."

Fiondil nodded mutely and started to rise, hissing in pain and it was only then that the others saw the signs of torture on his body. Both maidens cried out but Valandil hushed them as he pulled his cloak off his shoulders and wrapped it around Fiondil. Laurendil did the same, giving his cloak to Eärnur, who gave his friend an amused smile along with a nod of thanks. Then Boromir, who had been standing by the door, spoke up.

"I hear guards approaching," he warned them. "Come, we must away ere we are all caught."

With that Laurendil motioned for the two maidens to lead the way while Eärnur and Valandil helped Fiondil. Laurendil brought up the rear. Surprisingly, instead of retracing their path, Boromir turned right, heading towards where their corridor met another.

"Boromir!" Ercassë exclaimed in a loud whisper. "Why do you lead us away from the door?"

Without breaking stride, the blind steward gave answer. "The way above is shut, my lady. One can enter, one cannot go out. We must find another road. There is a different door that leads to the outside, but we must go down, not up."

Before the others could protest, Laurendil spoke. "Lead us, Boromir. We will follow."

Boromir led them to the left when they reached the cross corridor. As Laurendil passed the lamp on the wall, he took it off its hook, hoping to confuse the guards which he could hear coming from some distance away. Laurendil noted how the steward did not hesitate, but walked as one who could see his path clearly and guessed that the Man had been held in captivity on this very level. They came to a second hall that ended abruptly and they found themselves facing a blank brick wall. Boromir ran his hands across its surface and they could hear him counting under his breath. Finally, he stopped at one brick and pushed it in, then moved his hands up and to the left to another brick and pushed that one in.

At first, nothing seemed to happen and then, slowly, a plain wooden door began to emerge even as the brickwork faded from sight.

"A glamour," Eärnur whispered, his eyes wide in astonishment, obviously impressed.

"Sauron’s doing I imagine," Laurendil leaned forward to whisper in his friend’s ear so that the others could not hear.

Eärnur merely nodded, watching along with the others as Boromir turned the knob and opened the door. "This leads to a cavern," he said. "The way is narrow and very treacherous. When you reach the end you will be looking east. It is necessary for you to make your way southward. Follow the blue stones."

"But why do you tell us this, Boromir?" Vandiel asked. "Will you not lead us?"

"I have never walked this path with my eyes," Boromir replied with equanimity. "Someone walked it with me. I only know the path from his telling."

The two maidens appeared hesitant, but Eärnur pushed Fiondil forward. "We cannot linger, my children," he said with great urgency. "The guards are near."

"Vandiel, take Boromir’s hand and guide him," Laurendil commanded. "Ercassë, help Eärnur with your brother while Valandil leads the way with the lamp. I’ll take the rearguard." The tone of his voice was enough to still any protests from the young Mortals and soon they were on their way again with Valandil now in the lead, followed by his sister and Boromir. The way proved narrow enough that Ercassë could not help Eärnur with Fiondil and had to walk behind them. Laurendil shut the door, wondering if the glamour would reinstate itself.

Almost immediately the path sloped down at a steep angle and they were assailed by an evil smell that had them all gagging. The floor was not smooth and they had to step carefully lest they trip. Only the two Elves walked with any semblance of ease. There was no way to tell how long they walked, but at one point Fiondil stumbled in spite of Eärnur’s steady hand and he fell in an exhausted heap upon the ground. Eärnur and Ercassë knelt to aid him and Laurendil bent over them, handing the cut-crystal phial to his friend. "No more than two drops," he cautioned the other Elf and Eärnur nodded. As soon as the phial was uncorked the scent of the cordial filled the putrid air, banishing the evil mood from their minds. Hearts were lightened and hope renewed. Fiondil came out of his faint.

"I’m sorry," he started to apologize but Eärnur forestalled him.

"No need for apologies, my friend," he said with a smile. "Come, we still have a way to go."

Fiondil nodded and with a little help from his sister and Eärnur he rose and they continued. After a few moments he spoke. "I think I hear water."

"Aye, young sir," Boromir said. "We are nearly there. There is a spring that issues from the cavern and meets with the Siril below the Noirinan."

Shortly thereafter they came to the cavern. It was large enough that Valandil’s lamp did little to illuminate it and none could say what its dimensions might be. Valandil hesitated for a moment until all were with him and then he moved to the right, heading south. Almost at once they found themselves facing a series of stone pillars, some white, some black and some....

"Blue!" Vandiel cried out. "Look! There are blue stones leading that way." She pointed towards the southeast.

By mutual agreement they stopped and stared. The stones were tall, at least twice the height of the two Elves and they stood scattered about in no seeming pattern, although most of the blue stones appeared to stand more to the east of south while the white stones were more directly east. The black stones appeared to head almost due west. Occasionally, though, they could see the various colored stones intersecting one another’s paths. The first of the blue stones stood to their left.

"I wonder where the other stones lead?" Vandiel asked no one in particular.

Boromir shook his head. "Who can say?" he answered. "I do not know anyone who has walked the other paths. I only know about the blue stones."

"Then let us go," Eärnur said. "The sooner we are out of here the better."

They all agreed and Valandil again took the lead, holding up his lamp for all to see. They had gone but a few hundred feet when Laurendil called a halt. "Silence!" he commanded and all stood stock still, straining to discover for themselves whatever the Elf-lord had heard. It was Eärnur, however, who gave them their answer.

"They come not only from behind but by another way that is meant to cut us off." He pointed towards the south.

"Is following the blue stones the only way out?" Vandiel asked.

"To the best of my knowledge," Boromir said. "Where the other stones lead, I cannot say, nor would I venture to guess."

"If they mean to cut off both our advance and retreat, we will need to stand and fight," Valandil said.

"Are you insane?" Fiondil asked from Eärnur’s embrace, his expression a mingling of pain and disbelief. "Two maidens, a blind man and us two, naked as the day we were born. What weapons did you think us to use against armed guards?"

Before Valandil could offer a retort, Laurendil intervened. "It behooves us then to take another path. Come, we cannot linger. White or black?" He pointed to the two other colored stones. So far the three sets of stones were following parallel paths but just beyond where they stood they branched off into the darkness. For a long moment no one spoke. Finally, Ercassë pointed to one of the white pillars.

"When I look upon the white pillars my heart quails," she said quietly. The other Mortals, even blind Boromir, gave her disbelieving looks and Fiondil appeared ready to ridicule his sister but Laurendil forestalled him.

"And the black ones?" he asked in all seriousness.

Ercassë cast her gaze upon the nearest black stone, nearly lost in the stygian gloom that their lamp could not alleviate. She shook her head. "No. My heart remains calm and my spirit does not... recoil in fear." Her expression was one of deep uncertainty and embarrassment, as if she knew that what she said was utter nonsense.

Laurendil, however, seemed to take her words at their face value. He turned to the other Mortals. "Are your hearts also fearful when you look upon these white stones?"

The twins and Fiondil all shook their heads. "My heart does not warn me," Vandiel said and the two young Men nodded in agreement. Boromir, unable to see the stones about which they were speaking, remained silent, waiting.

Ercassë cast a troubled look at Laurendil. "I do not lie, lord," she said.

Laurendil turned his attention to Eärnur, who merely raised an eyebrow at his friend, then he turned to Ercassë. "No, child, you do not, for these white stones bespeak to me of much evil, but I feel no such darkness when I gaze upon the ebon pillars."

"Nor do I," Eärnur stated.

"Then let us take the black road and may the Valar protect us," Laurendil decided and with a gesture they moved on, now heading, not southeast, but west.

However, they had lingered longer than was wise and within minutes the guards that had been following them came in view and with a shout they began to run towards the escapees. Nearly at the same time, another troop could be seen advancing from the south. At the sound of their fellow guards shouting, this troop started forward at a run, leaving the path of the blue stones and heading right towards them. Laurendil, still acting as rearguard shouted, "Valandil, lead them! I will stop these from following. Do not look back."

Valandil, however, had other ideas. Pushing the lamp into his sister’s hand, he went to stand beside the Elf-lord. "I can fight," he declared, drawing out the short sword that was his only weapon.

Laurendil scowled and grabbed the young Man by the shoulders. "Swords are no use here," he exclaimed. His eyes glowed with a supernal light that Valandil could not endure and he found himself flinching. "Go! Take the lamp and lead them hence. I will deal with this. Run as you value your lives," he shouted to them all, "and don’t look back!"

Valandil gasped at the force of the Elf-lord’s command and stumbled back towards the vanguard, taking the lamp out of Vandiel’s hand. Eärnur handed Fiondil to his sister. "Take your brother, Ercassë, and go with the others. I will stay with Laurendil."

"But...."

"Do as I’ve commanded, child," the Master Healer said, his tone going cold and brooking no arguments. Ercassë and Fiondil gave him a fearful look but without another word they followed the other three, all of them running as best they could in the near darkness with Vandiel holding onto Boromir’s arm and leading him.

Laurendil looked at Eärnur for a second. "Do you know what I intend?"

Eärnur nodded. "Songs of Power," he answered. "I know little about them, for they are not something about which the Teleri bother."

Laurendil nodded. "Then lend me your strength and I shall do the rest."

For answer, Eärnur moved to stand at Laurendil’s back and placed his hands lightly on the other ellon’s shoulders. The two Elves faced the oncoming guards who were now coming at them from both the north and the east. Laurendil waited two breaths more and then he quietly began to Sing....

****

The five Mortals ran, only stopping when Boromir inadvertently tripped over the uneven ground and Vandiel gave a cry of alarm as she attempted to save him from falling. At once, Ercassë and Fiondil were by them giving them their support. Valandil stopped and returned to see that all was well with them.

"We cannot linger," he said urgently.

"What about the Elves?" Vandiel asked plaintively. "Surely they cannot hope to win against so many armed guards."

Fiondil shrugged. "They are Elves, after all and Eärnur...."

But what he meant to say went unspoken for, suddenly, a bright white light flared as if Anor herself were rising from the chthonic dark and the ground heaved, throwing them all to the earth. There were screams and yells of surprise and fright amongst them as they all tried to keep their footing and failed.

"Don’t look back!" Valandil reminded them as he huddled over his sister, holding her tight against him, with the lamp between them. "Close your eyes!"

All but Boromir complied with that order though the old man instinctively kept his face averted, continuing to face west even as he knelt beside the others. The light’s incandescence increased to the point that even with eyes shut and covered by their hands, the pain was intense. The quaking of the earth caused many of the pillars to come crashing down and the nearest black stone only just missed them as it fell. Then, there was a tearing and the sound of something crumbling and a rush of air as part of the cavern ceiling crashed somewhere behind them. They could hear the sounds of screams above the earth tremors and then, nothing.

As suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. The light dimmed to nothingness, leaving them feeling even more blinded than before, and the tremors ceased. Silence reigned. Slowly, the four younger Mortals opened their eyes and they all stood up. Somehow the lamp had managed to remain lit in spite of everything. Valandil raised it carefully so that they might see. It was a scene of great destruction as pillars lay haphazardly about and mounds of earth and rocks blocked the way back.

"Lord Laurendil?" Ercassë suddenly shouted, her voice tight with fear and shock. She looked back along their trail, straining to see through the settling dust. "Lord Eärnur?" They waited for the echoes to die, hoping to hear a response, but there was none.

The four younger Mortals stared at one another apprehensively but it was Boromir who voiced their deepest dread. "We’re alone then," he whispered sorrowfully, staring blankly into the darkness. Then, the only sound was that of Ercassë and Vandiel weeping.

****

Note on Laurendil’s cordial: The selection of which plants would comprise the distillation of Laurendil’s cordial was necessarily limited by what Tolkien provided in the way of translation, but it was also deliberate. The plants used were chosen based primarily on their associative meanings and properties (or imagined meanings and properties for those plants with no real-world counterparts). Thus losilli (roses) are a symbol of ‘love’ and nieninqui (snowdrops) symbolize ‘hope’. Hellinyetilli (pansies) here have the meaning of ‘heartsease’ as Tolkien translates the word. The yavannamírë (‘Jewel of Yavanna’) is an evergreen with scarlet fruit, so I have given it the meaning associated with fir trees, ‘time’. Asëa aranion, otherwise known as Athelas or kingsfoil, has no real-world counterpart, but because of its healing properties, it is possible Tolkien modeled this plant on the ubiquitous milfoil (Achillea millefolium). This plant is also known as yarrow, which in many cultures throughout the world has been used as a general healing plant. Thus, the subliminal message of the mingled scents of this cordial might well be something like: The healing power of love brings hope and heart's ease in the fullness of time — an appropriate sentiment in any Age. [The Illuminated Language of Flowers, Jean Marsh & Kate Greenway, eds., 1978.]

Geographic Notes: The Siril river is the main river in Númenor that runs from the Meneltarma south to the marshlands.

The Noirinan (Valley of Tombs) was where the kings and queens of Númenor were buried. It lies between the southeast and southwest ridges of the Tarmasundar (Roots of the Pillar), which are the five slopes that form the base of the Meneltarma. The one road leading to the top of the holy mountain lies along the southeast ridge.





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