15: The Sea Storm Cometh

Valandur stood back and watched as Lindarion competently spoke with the magistrates who came to the Hall of Singing. He realized that the coming storm, while not a common occurrence, was something with which these people were familiar and had devised ways of protecting themselves against it. A large map hung on a wall showing the different districts in a variety of colors and neatly labeled, with the palace district, in which this particular hall was located, painted blue. Once the magistrates were gathered, Lindarion outlined what needed to be done.

“The storm is predicted to come from the southeast, so we need to be extra vigilant,” the prince told his audience. “It could shift to the east and then we’ll have flooding along this area.” He pointed to a part of the map and many of his listeners nodded in agreement. “So, those of you who are from the harbor and any whose districts border the canals here and here need to warn your people of that. We’ll open the sluice gates to the north and hopefully that will help.”

There were one or two questions from people, mainly asking for clarification, which was given, and then they were dismissed. Lindarion gestured for Valandur and they exited the hall and headed back to the palace. The prince eschewed taking a boat, deciding he wished to walk back. Neither spoke, and truthfully, Valandur was lost in his own thoughts, wondering what the others in the delegation must be thinking about him being absent for so long, wondering if Princess Findis ever gave him a thought, wishing he were back in Tirion trying to decipher some scribe’s scribbles as he and Aldamir collated notes on the day’s discussion rather than being stuck in a city of strangers about to be inundated with a violent sea storm.

Already the stars to the southeast had disappeared behind clouds heralding the storm front. The wind had picked up and rain lashed at them, so that they were soaked to the skin before they reached the safety of the palace. Lindarion immediately ordered hot baths and drinks for them both. By the time they were presentable the storm was upon them in full fury, the sound of it almost frightening. Valandur noticed that all the embrasures looking to the south and east had been covered by thickly woven reed screens cleverly hung on hooks which he had not noticed earlier, effectively blocking out both wind and rain. It made the rooms dimmer but more candles were lit. The royal family was gathered in the main sitting room, the Queen and Olwen working on embroidery with their ladies while Olwë and Falmaron were entertaining them with music with the King playing a lute and singing while Falmaron accompanied him on an instrument that Lindarion called a fenrotsë, which appeared to be eight thick reeds of different lengths, bound together by a colorfully woven band near the top, with the bottoms plugged. The sound of the pipes was eerie and sent shivers down Valandur’s spine.

Lindarion inveigled Valandur into a game of draughts to occupy their time and take their minds off the storm now raging in full force. Valandur was surprised how calm and unconcerned everyone was, but then realized that either Olwë’s steward, Eällindo, or his chief guard, Elennen, periodically entered the room and gave the King an update, quietly speaking so as not to disturb the others. Olwë would respond with whispered commands of his own and then resume playing the lute.

Then, unexpectedly all sound of the storm ceased and Valandur looked up from the game in surprise. Lindarion shook his head. “We are in the eye of the storm where all is calm, but it will not last. Soon the other side of the storm will approach. But come. During the interval we can help check on any damage.”

So saying, he stood and headed for the door. Valandur followed with Falmaron behind him and the three ellyn made their way outside where Valandur just stood gaping at the stars shining down upon them with cold indifference. There was no sign of the storm at all, not even clouds. Lindarion took his elbow as the two princes set out for the harbor. “For that is where the most damage will have occurred,” Lindarion explained. “The storm did shift to the east more than was anticipated so the harbor most likely has suffered major flooding. Look! The water in the canal is higher than it should be. I know we opened the sluice gates to the north to allow water to flow out so there shouldn’t be too much damage from flooding.”

All along the way, they encountered others out checking for structural damage to houses and buildings. The buildings were well constructed but here and there Valandur noticed tiles had been stripped from some of the roofs and there was debris all around, making maneuvering through the walkways slow and difficult.

“Clean-up is always a bother,” Falmaron commented sourly as they passed two ellith shifting broken tiles out of the way of passersby.

“And the storm is not yet done with us,” Lindarion retorted with a smile.

A few minutes later they came upon the harbor. It was a mess. Two of the swan ships were beached with one actually upside down on the roof of one of the warehouses that lined the wharves. The colorful lanterns were mostly out, some apparently swept away for they were missing completely. Dead and dying fish littered the quays and the smell was terrible. Valandur forced himself not to gag. Lindarion gave him a sympathetic look and fished out a clean piece of linen and handed it to him.

“Breathe through your mouth,” he said and Valandur found it easier to breathe with the linen over his nose. “Why don’t you stay here?” the prince suggested. “I just need to speak with the harbormaster and see what other damage has occurred. Falmaron, stay with Valandur. I’ll be back shortly.”

Valandur found he had no objections to Lindarion’s suggestion. Falmaron just nodded. “We’ll make our way over to the Hall of Singing. The magistrates will be reporting there soon enough.”

“Good. Take their reports, will you, and I’ll meet you both back at the palace.”

So saying, Lindarion headed off in one direction while Falmaron and Valandur headed in the opposite. As predicted, they reached the Hall of Singing to find several of the magistrates already there, waiting to give their reports. Those whose districts lay to the east reported some flooding in spite of the sluice gates being open.

“No buildings were destroyed, but we’ll be a while shoveling the mud out of the homes and businesses along Kuluin Canal,” one of them commented. Valandur checked the map and found the canal which apparently ran north from the harbor bordering the seawall to the east. Falmaron nodded and assured the magistrate that the King would have crews out just as soon as the other side of the storm had passed. Satisfied that they were on top of things, he dismissed the magistrates with his thanks and then he and Valandur headed back to the palace where they found Lindarion giving Olwë his report.

“This storm is more violent than we expected,” the prince was saying. “Even part of the seawall has been eroded. We’ll be awhile cleaning up and repairing the harbor. We’ve lost three ships completely and at least a dozen are severely damaged. The fleet will not be returning to the Sea any time soon, I’m afraid.”

Olwë nodded, looking a bit grim. “At least no lives have been lost and we can thank the Lady for her timely warning. What do you have to report, Falmaron?”

Falmaron quickly recapped what the magistrates had told him and, once the final report was given, Olwë thanked his sons. “The cooks have put out some meat pies and soup. Let us join your ammë and sister. How are you holding up?” he asked Valandur and the Vanya assured him he was fine as they headed for the dining room.

“How soon do you think I’ll be able to leave?” he asked.

“I must first ascertain which ships are still seaworthy,” Olwë replied. “No sense sending you back just to have the ship start sinking before you are even halfway there. It’d be a long trip otherwise.”

“You mean, it’ll be a short one,” Valandur retorted somewhat sourly, “as I have no idea how to swim.”

“Well, that too,” Olwë said with a deadpan expression and when Lindarion and Falmaron started snickering, Valandur couldn’t help smiling, recognizing that he really had no choice but to accept the delay with as much grace as he could muster. They entered the dining room and joined Lirillë and Olwen at the table. As they ate, Olwë discussed clean-up and repair plans with his wife and children while Valandur listened.

They were still eating when the other half of the storm arrived.

****

When the storm finally passed, clean-up began. Valandur excused himself to go to his room and exchange his begemmed watersilk tunic for his own plain wool one which had been returned to him freshly laundered. Then he joined the two princes and the King, who were also dressed in plain tunics, along with Elennen and another guard named Eäralato, in walking from district to district, examining the effects of the storm, speaking with the magistrates and the people and taking stock of the extent of the damage, praising everyone for their efforts in cleaning up and succoring those who needed it. Outriders had been sent to check the state of the small fishing villages that ranged to the north.

“Not everyone wishes to live in the city,” Olwë explained to Valandur, “so there are a number of fishing villages along the north coast.”

“But not to the south.” Valandur made it a statement.

Olwë shook his head. “To the south lies the Calacirya and the Light of the Trees. My people prefer the darkness under the stars. It is, after all, our natural environment.”

“So are you saying that the Light of the Trees is unnatural?” Valandur couldn’t help asking, casting them a smile to show he was not being entirely serious.

Both Lindarion and Falmaron looked at him askance, but Olwë merely chuckled. “Well, I always suspected the Minyai and the Tatyai were just a little… odd.”

The two princes snickered, while Olwë’s expression was entirely deadpan. Valandur snorted good-naturedly and soon they were all chuckling.

Their last stop was the harbor where lay the most damage. Valandur looked upon the scene in dismay, for, if anything, it was worse than before. Neither Olwë nor his sons seemed unduly upset. Olwë went straight to the harbormaster to speak with him while Lindarion, Falmaron and Valandur began to make themselves useful by grabbing shovels and joining the others who were removing the mud and the dead fish and seaweed. The mud would be returned to the Sea from which it came while the dead fish and seaweed would be gathered and taken outside of the city to be burned in a pyre made from the wood of those ships that were irrevocably damaged.

Of the fleet, five ships were so much firewood while nearly a dozen would need some repair but were otherwise seaworthy. Miraculously, or so it seemed, Olwë’s own ship, the one in which Valandur had come to Alqualondë, was undamaged, as were a few others.

“We can send you on your way within the hour if you wish,” Olwë told Valandur after he finished speaking with the harbormaster. “I can have a crew ready and Lindarion and Falmaron will go with you.”

“Thank you,” Valandur said, then sighed as he looked about him, knowing the decision he was about to make would just make things worse for him, or so he believed. “However, you need everyone here to help with the clean-up, so I will wait until you can actually spare your people to return me to Tirion.” He had a sinking feeling that when he finally did return to Tirion, he would be summarily sent on to Vanyamar in disgrace, but in all conscience, he could not leave just yet. It smacked of desertion in an hour of need.

Olwë gave him an approving smile. “I promise we will have you back where you belong soon. I will leave you for the nonce, for I have much to do elsewhere. Do not work overlong, my sons. When you see Alcarinquë on the eastern horizon, return to the palace and get some rest.”

“Yes, Atya,” Lindarion said with a smile. Olwë returned the smile with one of his own and then left with Elennen while Eäralato stayed behind with the princes.

The task of cleaning up was indeed tiring and by the time Lindarion called a halt in their endeavors in helping with the clean-up, Valandur was soaked through with sweat and stank of fish. Every muscle in his body seemed to ache, he discovered, and it was all he could do to put one foot before the other as they walked back, for Lindarion informed him that the canals were closed to traffic until the water level had lowered. By the time they came to the plaza fronting the palace, Valandur was reeling and Eäralato was holding him by the elbow to keep him upright. Lindarion wasted no time in ordering hot baths for them all and soon they were soaking in the bathing pool. The hot water seemed to help and Valandur sighed in relief, but once they were done, he excused himself and went back to his room, falling into bed, too tired even to eat the meal that had been set out for him.

****

He woke with no idea of how long he’d slept. Without the waxing and waning of the Light he could not easily gauge the time and looking at the stars did not help, for he had forgotten to check their positions before sleeping. He went through his ablutions and dressed, making his way down the hall to the dining room, hoping he would be able to get something to eat, for he was starving. The dining room, however, was empty and he went in search of the kitchen, hoping to find a sympathetic cook. He had no trouble finding it, for delectable smells wafted down the hall and he simply followed his nose.

He stopped just inside the large room, taking in the bustle of activity, trying to identify the head cook. One of the helpers noticed him and smiled.

“Are you looking for someone, Master?” she asked.

“Actually, I’m looking for something to eat,” Valandur replied. “I missed the last meal, or maybe the last two. I have no idea how long I’ve slept.”

The elleth nodded in understanding. “His Majesty left orders that we were to feed you when you awoke. Would you care to eat here or in the dining room?”

“Here is fine. Do you know where Their Majesties are or the princes? The place seems strangely empty of people.”

The elleth gestured for him to follow her and she led him to a trestle. “I have no idea, Master,” she said. “I can enquire for you, if you wish, while you eat. I imagine the King is overseeing the repairs to the harbor and the princes are with him. I think the Queen and the princess are visiting the people of the city as is their wont whenever a major storm hits.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Valandur said, feeling oddly chagrined at the idea that while he slept the royal family had been busy seeing to the welfare of the city.

“Would soup be to your liking, Master?” the elleth asked. “And perhaps a loaf of bread and some new cheese. We also have small beer or wine.”

“Whatever you have available, mistress, will be fine,” Valandur said. “I would not wish to inconvenience you, as I know you have your own work to get back to.”

“It is no inconvenience,” the elleth assured him. “I will bring you something shortly.”

With that, she left and Valandur sat looking about at the activity around him. He could see several birds on a spit roasting away over a fire, the spit being turned by a young ellon. Others were busy putting together what appeared to be pies, though what kind he could not tell. Everyone ignored him and he was grateful for that. In a short while, the elleth returned with a large bowl of thick broth soup filled with vegetables and clams. A loaf of dark bread and a sizeable chunk of yellow cheese and a mug of small beer accompanied it. Valandur thanked the elleth who then returned to her own duties.

While he was eating, Lindarion entered, giving him a smile. “Awake at last,” he said as he sat across from him. The elleth who had brought Valandur’s meal came over to enquire if the prince needed anything. Lindarion shook his head, stating he was fine and she left them alone once again.

“How long did I sleep?” Valandur asked.

“Today is Aldúya and it is already half over,” came the reply.

“I slept an entire day?” Valandur asked in disbelief.

“Just about,” Lindarion said, pulling off a hunk of the bread and some cheese to eat, seemingly unaware of Valandur’s dismay. “I slept nearly as long, for I went to bed directly after the daymeal. I only woke up about two hours ago.”

Valandur felt a little better at that revelation and went back to his soup and the two sat in silence for a time. “So what now?” he asked once he had polished off the soup and was taking a sip of the beer.

“Now, we get you back where you belong,” Lindarion replied. “Atar has ordered the royal ship to be readied. We can leave as soon as you like. You can be back in Tirion tomorrow.”

“Should I not stay and help?” Valandur asked, suddenly reluctant to leave.

Lindarion shook his head. “You have done more than enough and we all know how anxious you are to return to Tirion.”

“Not that anxious,” Valandur said with a sigh. “I do not think I will be let off very lightly, whatever your atar says. Prince Ingoldo will be wroth with me and I wouldn’t be surprised if I were sent packing almost as soon as I arrive.”

“I would not be overly concerned,” Lindarion said. “Atar will see that you are not unduly punished for your absence. Now, if you are finished, why don’t you go pack and I’ll let Atar know you are ready to leave.”

“I don’t have anything to pack,” Valandur said with a grin, “except for my own clothes, which are probably still being laundered.”

“Don’t worry about them. I meant the tunics we gave you to wear. You are welcome to take them with you.”

Valandur gave him a surprised look. “But I couldn’t possibly…”

“Now, now. You might as well. You’ll be doing Ammë a favor.”

“Excuse me? How would I be doing your amillë a favor by taking such rich looking tunics with me?”

Lindarion gave him a wide smile. “Because she’s been begging Falmaron and me to get rid of our old tunics so she can order new ones.”

“Your old tunics.”

“Old only because we’ve worn them a time or two,” Lindarion assured him. “They’re not cast-offs and it’s not charity. Atar said that since you came here with nothing but the clothes on your back, that we should pick out some of our better tunics to give you as recompense. Besides, you told me you were going to order some tunics for court. Well we’ve saved you the trouble.”

“I was going to order one tunic and it certainly wouldn’t have been as fine as these but it would have been finer than what I own.”

“And now you don’t have to bother spending your delegation’s treasury,” Lindarion said. “Please. Accept them and the other clothes as our gift for helping us after the storm. I will tell you that Atar regrets that he was not able to return you to Tirion as he promised.”

Valandur shrugged. “Not his fault. It isn’t as if he ordered that storm to delay my departure.”

Lindarion laughed. “No. He did not, but that is not to say others didn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I suspect that perhaps Lord Ulmo ordered it, though why he felt you needed to remain here even for another day or two, escapes me. Perhaps he just wanted you to know us better.” The prince shrugged. “Regardless, Atar feels bad that you were forced to remain longer than planned.”

“I don’t really mind,” Valandur said. “It has been an interesting experience and I have much to think about. Still, I dread returning to Tirion. I have very little faith that it will go well with me whatever the King or Lord Ulmo say.”

“I cannot help you there, Etta,” Lindarion said gravely. “I can only tell you that Lord Ulmo has ever been our friend and has never lied to us. If he says all will be well, then it will be, whether we believe it or not. But come. Let us get you on your way.” He stood and Valandur followed him, the two of them returning to Valandur’s room where the prince helped him pack, having ordered a haversack for his use.

“My main concern is how do I even reach Tirion?” Valandur asked at one point. “The horse I rented would have been returned to its owner. I’ll have to walk and I don’t really fancy having to do so.”

“I’m sure arrangements have been made,” Lindarion answered. “Don’t forget that Atar sent a messenger who will be awaiting us for the storm would have prevented his return. I have every confidence that it will all work out.”

Valandur forbore to reply to that, not feeling at all confident but realizing he would just have to deal with the situation as it arose. If he had to walk all the way back to Tirion, so be it. In the meantime, he and Lindarion made their way to the harbor where they found the rest of the family waiting for them. Olwë had his luggage, such as it was, taken aboard the swan ship while he and the family made their farewells. Lirillë handed him a velvet bag.

“You mustn’t forget your pearl,” she said with a smile.

He opened the bag and gasped when he saw that the pearl had been mounted on a mithril band inscribed with the phrase ‘Et ëarello tulë estel’. Slipping it on his finger, he discovered that it fit perfectly. “But how…?”

“Oh, I had one of our jewel smiths make it for you,” Lirillë said, giving Olwë a sly smile, who smiled back.

Valandur blinked. “You?” he asked Olwë while everyone else just grinned at his nonplused expression.

“One of my little hobbies,” Olwë replied with an offhand shrug. “Now, we’ve kept you here long enough, Loremaster. Go with our blessing and with the favor of Lord Ulmo, Lord Ossë and the Lady Uinen.”

Lirillë and Olwen gave him kisses and then he was aboard the ship with Lindarion and Falmaron beside him. Soon, the ropes were cast off and the sails raised and they were leaving the harbor. Valandur’s last sight of the city as the ship passed under the arch of living stone and veered to starboard was of Olwë, Lirillë and Olwen standing at the quay waving.

The trip was not long for a fair wind filled the sails. Valandur was surprised that they did not stop at the cove where he had picnicked with his friends, but continued further south until they came to the small harbor that was maintained for the benefit of the Telerin ships that plied the Bay of Eldamar. Awaiting them were a number of people, one of whom was Olwë’s messenger according to Lindarion, while the others turned out to be Intarion, Aldamir and Calandil, which really surprised him. The captain brought the ship neatly to the single dock and Valandur made his way down the gangplank after saying farewell to the two princes who stated that they would not come ashore. Instead, as soon as Valandur left the ship, the messenger boarded and then the ship was leaving, heading back to Alqualondë. Valandur stood waving as Lindarion and Falmaron waved back. When the ship disappeared behind a headland, Valandur turned to greet the others.

“How did you know to come here?” he couldn’t help asking.

“We were told,” was Intarion’s only answer. His demeanor was somewhat stiff as was Aldamir’s, and neither of them offered him any real greeting, which Valandur found ominous. Only Calandil seemed genuinely glad to see him, giving him a hug as they exchanged kisses as between brothers.

“Did you enjoy your trip?” Calandil asked, giving Valandur a smile.

“It was interesting, especially meeting Lord Ulmo,” Valandur replied with studied nonchalance and was pleased to see both Intarion and Aldamir give him surprised looks. “And the royal family as well,” he continued. “King Olwë and Queen Lirillë were most hospitable. Those were their sons, the haryon, Prince Lindarion, and his younger brother, Prince Falmaron, who escorted me back.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell us all about it when we get back to the city,” Calandil said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Your other otornor are anxious to see you and so are Minalcar and his family. When you did not return as it had been promised us, we were all somewhat upset.”

“There was a sea storm that prevented me from returning when I had hoped. His Majesty sent me on my way as soon as it was convenient to do so.”

“Well, let us get going then,” Intarion said, still with little warmth in his voice, which troubled Valandur, for he considered the young prince a friend and sorrowed at the thought that he had lost that friendship. Calandil gave him a sympathetic look as the two of them followed Intarion and Aldamir to where the horses were waiting, along with a couple of guards. In moments they were headed up the Calacirya to Tirion.

****

Fenrotsë: (Qenya) Literally, ‘reed pipe’, what we would call a panpipe, from fen ‘reed’ + rotsë ‘pipe, tube’.

Kuluin: (Qenya) Goldfish.

Atya: My father; a reduced form of atarinya.

Et ëarello tulë estel: ‘From out of the Sea comes Hope’.