97: Companions on the Road

On Mánatamir’s advice, they did not set off immediately the next morning but remained where they were for a couple of days. The storm had moved on to the south and the sky was now a brilliant blue and the sun was warm. Exploring the area a bit more they found a small spring running out of the hills and they spent the time rinsing the salt out of their clothes and drying everything that had gotten wet. Mánatamir examined the boat and decided that it was not good for anything but kindling.

“We’re not likely to find too many trees further north,” he said, “so if I may borrow your axe I’ll chop up some of this wood and we’ll dry it out before we set off.”

Glorfindel lent him the axe while he grabbed his bow and quiver and set out to do some hunting. He was in luck, for he came across the spoor of a large deer-like creature that he remembered hunting during the march North and following the trail he came across a herd of the red-furred creatures and was able to bring one down. When he returned to the camp he found that Mánatamir had also been busy. The tide had gone out and he had scoured the tidal pools for crabs and fish that had become trapped. He also found clams and between the two of them they had a fine meal, smoking the rest of the meat and fish for the journey.

At Glorfindel’s suggestion they waited for the tide to start going out so they could go around the hills rather than through them, for Glorfindel had warned Mánatamir that it would probably take longer to find a way through the hills rather than to go around them. So, it was mid-afternoon two days later when they set off.

“We’ll go on until just before sunset, unless we find a suitable place to shelter beforehand,” Glorfindel suggested as they made their way along the beach, “and then set off early tomorrow morning.”

Mánatamir nodded as he threw a piece of driftwood for Cundu to catch, the hound racing down the beach for all he was worth, yapping happily. They came to the headland where the hills met the sea and found they had to go further out than they were expecting before they found smooth sand, for closer to the shore their way was hindered by great slabs of rock all in a jumble and Alagos could not climb over them, though Cundu found it great sport to jump up on one slab and then jump back down into a tidal pool, splashing everyone. Mánatamir had to scold him quite fiercely before he stopped his game and came to walk beside his master, looking sad with his tail drooping. Glorfindel almost felt sorry for the hound but he appreciated not getting any wetter than he had to be.

On the other side of the barrier of hills they found themselves in a small cove and in fact, they discovered a series of small coves one after the other. Some were rather shallow, barely justifying calling them coves at all, while others were quite deep and would have provided good harborage. When Mánatamir pressed Glorfindel for details about how he meant to find Elwing’s Tower, the ellon told him about the peninsula where he had meant to disembark from the ship that had brought him this far and he showed him the description of the cove where the tower was located which Telemnambo had written out for him.

“I know the peninsula of which you speak,” Mánatamir said. “Your Captain Falastur is correct. There is no mistaking it for anything else. If I am not out of all reckoning as to where we are, we should reach the peninsula in two or three days.”

“That is what Captain Falastur told me,” Glorfindel said. “Elwing’s Tower is about fifty miles or so further north from there as best as Falastur could guess.”

“It is a good thing you have such a detailed description of the cove from a landsman’s point of view,” the Teler said, “for I have only seen that particular cove once and I was well out to sea. But really, I don’t think we’ll have too much difficulty finding it. After all, how many white towers can there be?”

The ellon laughed and Glorfindel joined him. He had felt the same way, but was taking no chances. It could well be that the cove was hidden in some manner by the power of the Valar, if Eärendil and Elwing had requested such aid from them to preserve their privacy from curiosity seekers. Why else would the ship’s crew and the stonemasons be blindfolded and brought to the cove by Maiar?

“Well, let us reach the peninsula first,” Glorfindel said, “and then we’ll see. I think if the weather holds we might camp there for a couple of days and do some hunting and fishing before moving on.”

“That would be my counsel as well,” Mánatamir replied.

So they continued on. They traversed three coves before they decided to stop for the night. When they reached the fourth cove, they found that it was deeper than the others with high cliffs on three sides, although the north side was much lower than the west or south sides. What attracted them to the place was the fact that there were trees, firs mostly, and a jumble of rocks along the west face of the cliffs where a rockslide had occurred sometime in the distant past and where they decided to set up camp. Best of all, they discovered a fresh-water spring in the midst of the rockfall.

“We won’t be able to leave here until the tide turns again,” Mánatamir said. “Which means we will waste most of the daylight again tomorrow.”

“Unless we leave the shore altogether and move inland,” Glorfindel suggested. “I recall that after we passed through the hill barrier we stayed further inland, walking the perimeter of the coves rather than along the shore itself.”

“That is a possibility,” Mánatamir averred, “but we will have to wait until we find a place where we can climb up, especially Alagos, and that may not be any time soon. Perhaps we should have gone through the hills instead.”

Glorfindel shrugged. “It matters not. After all, I have twelve years in which to find Elwing’s Tower, so I do not care if it takes me a day or two longer to reach it by going along the shore.”

“Surely you do not expect to take that long to find it?” Mánatamir demanded, giving him a disbelieving look.

Glorfindel laughed. “No. Not at all. It’s just that I promised my otorno that I would be at his wedding twelve years hence on Midsummer’s Day.”

“Twelve years!” the Teler exclaimed, giving a low whistle. “That’s a very long betrothal.”

Glorfindel shrugged. “I remember when betrothals were nearly as long during the time of the Trees when we counted the years as the Valar did.”

“Long before my time, I’m afraid,” Mánatamir said, then called out to Cundu to come back, for the hound was racing down the beach and the ellon did not want his four-footed companion to wander too far.

They spent the rest of the evening relaxing. Mánatamir put together a fine fresh fish stew with mussels and oysters. Glorfindel contributed some small potatoes and a carrot from his own supplies. “We’ll save the smoked meat and fish for when we really need it,” Mánatamir said.

Glorfindel agreed and set about refilling their waterskins while Mánatamir fussed with the stew.

****

The next day they spent much of the morning wandering around the cove, exploring it. It was larger than most of those they had already traveled through and Glorfindel happened upon a cutting along the northwest side of the cliffs which rose up to the top of the cliff almost like a path. He showed it to Mánatamir.

“Alagos could climb this if care is taken,” he said to the Teler who looked at him skeptically.

“A stiff climb even for us,” Mánatamir opined. “I’m not sure I would want to risk taking a horse up it.”

“Yet, the alternative is to sit here until the tide goes out before we leave,” Glorfindel pointed out. “This way, we move on that much sooner.”

“I thought you were not in any hurry,” Mánatamir said, giving Glorfindel a shrewd look.

“I’m not!” Glorfindel protested. “At least, not that much,” he amended, “but we both agree that traveling away from the shore might be quicker, don’t we?”

“The operative word being ‘might’, of course,” the Teler retorted. “Well, it’s your horse. I’m game if you are. Let’s break camp and give it a try. If it doesn’t work, we’ll just wait for the tide to go out and hope that on the other side of the headland we can find a way inland.”

They quickly went back to the camp and calling Alagos and Cundu, the two ellyn were soon returning to the cleft. It was decided that Glorfindel would go first with the horse, for if it proved too difficult for Alagos, Mánatamir would not waste his energy climbing for nothing. At first, Alagos was not too pleased with the route they were taking and balked somewhat but Glorfindel was able to soothe him and convince him to follow, being careful to keep an eye on the ground, kicking away stones and loose scree that might prove troublesome to his steed.

It was a slow climb and once or twice Alagos simply stopped and refused to go further. Mánatamir had to climb up behind the horse and give him an encouraging push while Glorfindel urged him forward. Yet, at last, they came to the top of the cliff and both ellyn breathed sighs of relief.

“Well, I guess that just shows how much I know about horses,” Mánatamir admitted and Glorfindel grinned as the two looked around. Below them they saw their cove and the ones on either side and were glad that they had risked the cleft, for the cove they would have come to next had no beach to speak of. Instead, the cliffs came directly down to the water and there was no telling how deep the harbor was.

“I doubt if all the water leaves with the tide,” Mánatamir opined. “See where the water in these two other coves is already pulling back?”

It was true, the cove they had just left was now half empty of water and the beach now extended some feet further east. This was not the case with the other cove and Glorfindel wondered just how far the water normally would come up the cliffs at high tide.

Then, they turned their attention to the west and north. The land here was desolate and treeless. The ground was covered with stiff grass and low shrubs and little else. A wind blew from the northwest, cold and smelling of snow, though Glorfindel thought it was too early yet for snow to fall even this far north beyond Aman.

“Come on,” he said, wrapping his cloak tight around him, “the sooner we move the warmer we’ll be.”

Mánatamir nodded, giving a whistle for Cundu who had been nosing around a clump of low bushes.

****

They made camp early, finding a small dip in the land that afforded them some shelter from the wind that seemed constant. They had debated about going down to a cove but decided that it was too much bother. So, they made the best of it, burning a bright fire that cheered them, using up some of the deer meat for their supper. Afterwards they sipped some tea while Cundu gnawed on a bone and Alagos contented himself with the grass.

“I think we might reach the peninsula sometime tomorrow,” Glorfindel ventured, sounding perhaps more confident than he had any right to be, but Mánatamir merely nodded.

“And then your quest truly begins, I think,” the Teler said.

“If the weather holds perhaps we will reach the Tower inside a week,” Glorfindel said.

“If the weather holds and naught else delays us,” Mánatamir replied with a nod, fondly patting Cundu on the head and giving him a smile. The hound snuffled a bit and went back to his bone.

The two elves sat up for a time as the evening deepened, watching the stars wheel across the sky in their stately pavane. Then, Mánatamir took the first watch while Glorfindel stretched out beside the fire and fell asleep almost immediately.

****

“There it is,” Glorfindel said, pointing to his right. “That must be the peninsula.”

They had been traveling for most of the day and it was now late afternoon. The sun was still high in the sky, for it was only the twenty-eighth of Cermië and the days were still long though growing shorter with Yávië a week and a half away. They saw a long spit of land going out into the sea, perhaps a good half mile. At its widest, though, it was probably less than a quarter of a mile. There was no beach; the peninsula was a high headland with cliffs that met the sea. Only where its southern coast joined with the mainland was there a decent harborage and Glorfindel suspected that this is where the Maiar waited for Captain Falastur’s ship. Like the rest of the land around them, the peninsula was bare of trees, but some stunted pines were clinging to the slope of the cove and it turned out that there was an actual path leading to the beach below them.

“I wonder why this path is here?” Glorfindel said as they made their way down the path. “I cannot imagine anyone needing it. Certainly not the Maiar and from what Captain Falastur told me, no one on the ship ever came ashore here.”

Mánatamir shrugged. “Maybe they knew we were coming and decided to make things easy for us.”

Glorfindel snorted in good humor. “Well, I won’t turn my nose up at the gift, but all the same, I would feel less uneasy about it if there hadn’t been an actual path.”

“So, do we remain here for a day or three as we had planned?” Mánatamir asked as they reached the beach.

“If we can find a fresh water source, I think it would be a good idea,” Glorfindel said. “I would like to do some hunting anyway. I have seen spoors of an animal I do not recognize but from the tracks they appear to be a goodly size. One or two will give us plenty of meat.”

“And I can do the fishing,” Mánatamir said. “In fact, I think I will do some now. Why don’t you look to see if there are any springs in the area? Those low hills over to the west look promising.”

Glorfindel nodded and taking all their water skins, he and Alagos headed back up the path and made their way westward towards a series of low hills. He was in luck, for the land around him began to get boggy and soon he found a spring bubbling up from the ground, forming a pool that seeped away in all directions. The water was sweet and he allowed Alagos to drink first before filling the skins.

While waiting for the horse to finish drinking, he cast his eyes about. The landscape had not changed much since he had last come this way. They were still well south of the true tundra but this area was rather bleak and the wind was nearly constant. He frowned, for it seemed that a shadow of a threat passed over his eyes and the sun seemed suddenly dim. He shook his head and blinked several times before the feeling went away. He wasn’t sure what it meant and was about to draw his bow just in case when Alagos snorted and stepped away from the pool to munch on some grass, so he applied himself to the task of filling the skins. By the time he finished, he had forgotten his earlier misgivings and happily made his way back to the beach where he found that Mánatamir had already gotten a nice fire going and was busy gutting half a dozen fish for the pot that was boiling over the fire.

“Tomorrow, I will see what I can find for the pot,” Glorfindel said as he scooped up some of the fish stew into his bowl when it was finally ready. “And I think I will scout northward a bit and see what the land is like. I have only the vaguest memories of coming this way before and it was under constant starlight. It looks different under the light of the sun and I do not trust my memory overmuch.”

“I know that there are coves and also some islands further north,” Mánatamir said, “but I have never fully explored them so I cannot tell you much. Your Captain Falastur was sure that Elwing’s Tower lay within fifty miles of this peninsula?”

“So he said,” Glorfindel averred. “He based the calculation on the fact that it always took them twelve hours going at a constant speed of four knots, more or less, to reach the cove where they were building the tower.”

“That sounds about right, then,” Mánatamir said with a nod. “In which case, we should reach it in three or four days.”

“That is my calculation as well,” Glorfindel replied, “though I have to wonder just how easy it will be to find it even so.”

“How do you mean?”

“Do you not think it strange that those working on the Tower were brought blindfolded to the site, that Maiar had to guide them in? Something tells me that there is more to it than a simple wish for privacy on Eärendil and Elwing’s part.”

Mánatamir shrugged. “I suppose we will find out one way or the other soon enough,” he opined and Glorfindel nodded in full agreement.

Once they were done with supper they went about cleaning up in companionable silence, with Glorfindel washing and Mánatamir drying. Then they put the kettle over the fire and waited for the water to boil to make tea. It had become a part of their routine whenever they made camp, ending the day with a pot of tea, talking of inconsequential things, sharing something of their lives with one another. Glorfindel eventually told Mánatamir about his dream or vision concerning Vingilot and what followed from that. It intrigued the Teler though he could offer no reasons why Glorfindel was unable to see Eärendil’s Star. It had now become the morning star and every day Glorfindel would stare eastward straining to see it, half disbelieving that it was even there though Mánatamir assured him that it was. It was Glorfindel’s fervent hope that once he had met Eärendil face-to-face that he would then be able to see the Star.

At any rate, they ended the evening as they always did, drinking tea and talking. That night it was Mánatamir’s turn to take the first watch so Glorfindel settled down soon after finishing his tea, staring up into the night sky. As he did every night, he wondered what Finrod and his other friends were doing and if they missed him as much as he was beginning to miss them. He was glad for Mánatamir’s company, for he realized that had the ellon not shown up when he did, his journey would have been much lonelier. He glanced over to where Mánatamir was sitting beside Cundu, gently stroking the hound’s head, softly humming a sea chanty to himself. The Teler, perhaps feeling Glorfindel’s gaze on him, looked up and smiled at him without ceasing his song. Glorfindel smiled back and then allowed his eyes to unfocus as he slipped onto the Path of Dreams.

****

28 Cermië: 2 August of the Gregorian calendar. The Royal Progress took fifteen days, arriving in Tavrobel on 24 Nárië (3 July) and leaving from the same port on the night of 12 Cermië (17 July). Glorfindel, therefore, arrived in Alqualondë on 13 Cermië and left the city on 20 Cermië (25 July). He met Mánatamir on 23 Cermië.

Yávië: Autumn, which, for the Eldar, begins on our 11 August.