Trees. Living pillars set by a haphazard mason. On a day so calm and clear, they were a barrier. An obstruction. An attempt to reduce Auros' awareness of approaching threats. No trail. No guide. Only a direction: north-northeast. Trail or no trail it was all the same. Same potential for danger, same lack of eminent threat. No space for ease, but no reason to draw a sword. As peaceful as anywhere beyond his own door could be. "We should be close."
"If the man wasn't lying." Avandur's knuckles whitened around his horse's reins. That action had become common the last few weeks, and it had nothing to do with their mission. Something lay hidden in his cloak pocket.
"He wasn't lying." Auros would've known. Honesty had lit the man's voice, and that light hadn't wavered or waned amidst the directions. Besides that, he'd borne none of the usual liar's tells, and decades protecting Imladris' borders had given Auros a sense about danger. He trusted the lead. The lead Avandur's brash words and brasher actions had almost cost them, and it wasn't the first time. Such conduct lacked the discipline expected of a man who'd spent the better part of a decade at sea. Anyone under his father's command who acted in such fashion would've faced more than a mere reprimand; but this wasn't his father's command, and it certainly wasn't Auros'.
"We've followed this trail of clues for weeks. It's about time we find the villain's harbor. It's chilly and I'm tired of trees."
"Try stalking orcs through mountain passes in deepest winter."
A grin pricked at the edges of Avandur's mouth. "Sounds like the beginnings of a story, like the one you started and never finished yesterday."
"Which one would that be?"
"The one about the girl with hair as dark as the new moon and eyes like glittering diamonds."
Auros snorted. That tale had just slipped out, like too many. They hadn't known each other long enough for their conversations to flow so freely. "I'm quite certain I never said her eyes glittered like diamonds."
Avandur grinned wider. "And yet, you didn't have to ask which girl I meant."
"Bah."
"Well?"
Auros sighed. "I moved."
"You moved?"
"Yes. To another land."
"And that's it?"
"For now."
"...Drawing the story out to keep me interested?"
"Is it working?" He tried to not grin. Tried.
Chirrup Chirp Chirp Chirrup Chirp.
An unfamiliar song, but definitely a signal. Avandur's eyes darted to the treetops. "I never thought I'd hear an Eressean songbird outside Numenor."
No sentries visible. That could be a testament to their skill, or the denseness of the foliage. "An Eressean songbird? Are you sure?"
"I'll never forget that call. My father gave a pair to my mother for their anniversary."
"Then I think we're on the right track."
"I don't know why a King's Man would have an Eressean songbird, let alone use its call as a signal. Nor do I care if it means I finally get justice for my father."
Auros nudged Vercalussë closer. "Are you sure it's justice we're after?"
Avandur's eyes flickered to his cloak. His hand twitched before he forced it back to the reins. Another inch and a sweet scent would've escaped on the breeze. "I thought we'd settled this. Is elvish justice so foreign? Shouldn't I want my father's murderer to pay for his crime?"
"Of course you should, but we should also hear what he has to say for himself."
"What part of his story is supposed to absolve him? Next you'll say I should show leniency for the Maiden's sake." Another recent habit: he wouldn't say her name, as if that would quiet his heart enough to carry out his mission. "If you've lost faith in the cause say so and be done with it."
"If there's no need for haste and no one's life is in jeopardy, we have time to deliberate."
"I have time to deliberate, and I don't care why he did it. Only that he did it."
"Don't you find it curious he'd invite his brother's family to a 'villain's harbor'?"
"No. I expect he'll sink to any low to save his own life. I'm not giving him a chance to kill me. Or you, for that matter."
"I have no qualms seeing justice is done—"
"Then you have nothing to worry about." Avandur dug a heel into his horse's side and trotted ahead.
Auros gripped his baldric. The Dunadan spoke of justice. Justice shouldn't recall tales of the Kinslaying at Alqualondë. It shouldn't exhume nearly-forgotten reflections on the burning ships at Losgar. The vision Grandpa painted of Fëanor, face contorted by glee and disdain as he watched it all, hadn't come to him since childhood. He never expected to see it with his waking eyes. Nonetheless Avandur was right. This was his quest. His father's murderer. Auros' mission was to help him. Whether or not he accepted that help was another matter.
Music and cheers long preceded any other suggestions of a village. The sounds of celebration. After that came the scents: cooking smoke, roasted meats, and fresh pastries. Avandur licked his lips before he knew he did it. A light breakfast and nothing since had that effect. Sight came last. The forest gave way and a pocket of unimpeded sunshine lit the roofs and backs of buildings. For better or worse, this had to be the village they'd been searching for.
A gravel road vied with the early makings of a narrow dirt trail at the forest's edge not far from where they'd emerged. The road led them inward towards all those pleasant suggestions. Farothel would've found a visit to a Hildorin village exciting. Arandil would've been curious about the architecture. All that mattered for Auros was that it was clean, the buildings were well-kept, and while a few cats and dogs roamed about in pursuit of their natural duties, animals weren't left to wreak havoc. By any measure it was far from a "villain's harbor." Past a large building the village's square came into view. A crowd gathered around a platform and a man atop it exhausting enough words to make Aldawë jealous. Every now and then he punctuated a declaration by thrusting a mug to the sky, and they answered with cheers.
Auros dismounted opposite a stone wall and the large man planted against it. He gave the man a nod and paid no further mind. Avandur leapt from his horse and almost provoked a fight through the sheer intensity of his glare.
"I bet that's him," he whispered.
The man's size was the totality of his intimidation. No sword or knife sat at his hip, nor did his hands suffer the callouses earned through combat or years of tending to a ship's rigging. He couldn't have thrown more than a dozen punches in his life, and he couldn't have handled rope more than necessary to secure a docile animal. Or perhaps he was just that fortunate to never have a line pull itself from his grip and take flesh with it.
Auros leaned in. "Justice has no room for bets." Avandur grimaced, then nodded. At least he acknowledged that truth. "The man on the platform must be the village's chief. We'll wait for him."
The man thrust his mug into the air again. "...forty years! May we continue to hold our course! May we continue to endure! To forty years! And forty more!" Cheers and mugs shot into the air. The man jumped down from the platform, passed his mug to a woman nearby and made straight for the two new faces in his village. "When the Watch sent word an Elda drew near, I didn't believe it! It's been too long since we've had the privilege of hosting our elder brethren!" He put his hand out. "Call me Noerdir."
Nothing particular stood out about Noerdir. He was an average Dunadan, so far as Auros knew of them. Older than Avandur by at least a couple score of years, but still well within his prime. Able to stand watch, fight for the village, make an intruder pay for the mistake. If he'd ever been the brawling type, it was in his past, but his body held the memory. His stance and gait still carried hints of a need to shift weight and balance without warning.
Auros looked at the hand, and though he was slow to take it, the man's grin didn't falter. "Auros." He nodded to the side. "This is Avandur."
A shudder ran through Noerdir so slight that most would've missed it. Were it not for their clasped hands Auros himself wouldn't have caught it. The man let go, and with that same warm smile, took Avandur's hand next. "Greetings. In light of your travelling companion I think it's safe to assume you're one of us, so we welcome you too."
Avandur held on for three solid shakes, then let go. "'One of us'? You mean that you're all Elendili?" Hopefully his disappointment wasn't as obvious to the villagers.
"Aye, and you've come at a moment of celebration, as you just heard. This is our village's fortieth year since its founding! Please, join us! At the very least we can offer a hearty meal. My wife made her famous spiced bread. If you take too long to decide, there won't be any left!"
"Famous?"
Noerdir laughed and gave Avandur's shoulder a friendly slap. "It's famous with me, at least!" He turned to the man leaning against the wall. "Belgo, would you take our guests' horses to the stable? Don't worry, my friends! They'll be well-tended."
Vercalussë squealed and his ears flattened back as Belgo's hand moved towards his neck. Auros raised his hand to calm the horse, then nodded towards Belgo. Vercalussë grunted and shook his head, but agreed to follow. Auros turned back to Noerdir. "We gladly accept your hospitality. Lead the way."
Rubbing his shoulder while they walked, Avandur leaned close to Auros. "They're Elendili. He can't be here."
"Then we'll leave with full bellies. An acceptable tragedy."
"We followed the directions." Avandur's voice neared a growl.
"Then he's here. Just be sure we have the right man before we accuse an entire village."
Not far from the square a patch of grass remained among all the buildings, large enough to accommodate not only the festivities but the inevitable romping and careening of small children. Tables filled two corners, one set laden with pots of food, large plates of meat, and pans filled with breads and pastries of all kinds, and the other with pitchers of ale and people taking their fill of cuisine and conversation.
Noerdir's tour of the offerings included carefully-worded lore on what to expect from each dish. "Lámmawen prepares the best chicken. Take only the center pieces of Corondir's brisket or you'll be chewing the rest of the day. Careful with that gravy! Hûriel always puts too much pepper in it, but no one has the heart to tell her. If not for the village celebrations she'd have no one to cook for but herself. Everyone take a little so nothing's left at the end, but that little goes a long way if you understand."
Auros poured a little more gravy into his trencher. It couldn't be worse than Farothel's early concoctions. When Avandur turned back from the glares he gave to any man who might've spent time at sea, he poured three large ladlefuls over his entire plate. He drowned both his food and any thought he might've paid attention to Noerdir.
Noerdir chuckled. "I've given fair warning! Heed it or not at your own peril! If your plates are now properly encumbered, I have someone I'd like you to meet." He led them to a table where the woman from earlier sat. Her soft, loving smile had been on him since they turned away from the sizable fare. Her warm sunset eyes had been considering him for longer. It was the way Dinmir looked at Arandil. The way Arandil looked at Dinmir. Only Noerdir got it right. "This, my friends, is the beautiful bakeress Bessîdh, famed for her beguiling breads and bounteous beneficence. She's also my wife. My dear, these are Auros and Avandur. They've arrived after a long journey just in time to join our merriment. It seems word of your delectables has reached even the ears of the Elves."
Bessîdh's grin spoke of a woman long since used to, but no less loving of, her husband's joviality. She stood with a quick but graceful curtsey and motioned to the bench on the opposite side of the table. "You are both very welcome for as long as you can stay! Please eat with us!" With just as graceful a motion she retrieved two clean mugs and filled them.
"Beneficence indeed. Thank you." Auros gave a quick downward tilt of his head and sat, then touched the back of his spoon to the inside of his trencher. The coating it picked up was light. The taste was anything but. It was a wonder any gravy could reside within all that pepper. Two or so gulps of ale and all was as well as that much of it would allow. "So, this is the fortieth year since your village's founding?"
Noerdir refilled Auros' mug. "A fleeting moment for you, perhaps, but a commitment worthy of honor even for those of Numenorean blood. I must admit I'm surprised to see an Elf this close to the mountains." If he'd taken note of Auros' struggle, he was discrete enough to leave it unmentioned. Avandur's challenge, however, couldn't have been missed. A spoonful of gravy seized his throat from the inside, and yet their host's face didn't so much as twitch at the wide eyes and coughs. "Your people usually stay much further north, if I guess correctly that you're of the High Elven kindred."
"And yours further east or south, depending on one's opinion of the Valar. Pelargir and Umbar, I believe they're called." Auros pushed Avandur's mug closer. This would be amusing later. Right now, it was useful to have him silent. "We're searching for an old friend of Avandur's father."
"And you expect to find him here."
"We have reason to believe so, yes."
"I see." The air changed. Charged, more tense, the moment before the attack when everything and nothing could go wrong. Noerdir glanced at Bessîdh, then back to Auros. "As you've mentioned, we're quite far from our people's settlements."
At last the pepper released Avandur, enough at least to let him speak through the hoarseness. "We know he's here."
"Mama! Noerdir!" Two girls raced towards them. The one who spoke stood tall enough to look Noerdir in the eye where he sat, while the other could barely peek over the table at Auros and Avandur. The younger tugged at Noerdir's sleeve while the older put her hands behind her back like she'd rehearsed a speech. "Enedhwë and Tuilion want to go catch frogs by the creek. Can we go too?"
Noerdir pulled each of them close and kissed their heads. "Stay together, and return before sunset."
The small one threw her arms around him and buried her face in his side. "Thanks Daddy!"
The girls ran off and Noerdir turned back to Auros. "Our daughters, Linneth and Nellwen." Noerdir's eyes fell to his mug and a grimace stretched his lips. "Linneth's father died when she was three. They lived in Numenor at the time. An accident, they said. He was Elendili. It must've been a rash decision, an impulse of fear overtaking the one who betrayed him. Or maybe it was a case of misplaced trust on their part too. Bessîdh fled, and in time found her way here. The first time I saw her, tired, worn, holding herself together for the daughter she'd bundled in a blanket, Linneth's eyes peeking over, I knew I needed them in my life. Nellwen was born two years later." Bessîdh's hand found its way to Noerdir's. "Many of us have similar stories, and some not so dark: a failed moment of trust or faltered courage. Some of us clawed our way out of deeper pits. Even this many years after Tar Palantir's coronation, it's dangerous to revere the Valar in Numenor. His brother gainsays openly all he dares and schemes in the shadows to undo the rest. It's not always easy to tell which descendant of Elros one serves until it's too late." He took another slow, deliberate gulp. "Here, that's all in our past, and our past doesn't matter."
All the trouble to find this village made sense at last, and its distance from other Dunedain settlements. They feared King's Man and Elendili alike. None of their contacts along the way had mentioned or even hinted at that particular, and important, piece of information. Avandur's jaw tightened. He was less understanding... or he understood too well. "Were only it so easy for your victims." Bessîdh hid her face behind a handkerchief. Nearby chatter dulled enough for the distant moo of a cow to cut through. Avandur grimaced. "My apologies. You've been a gracious host. It was an ill-chosen moment."
Noerdir's shoulders bowed as if someone put a wooden beam across them. "No words I can offer will heal your wounds or replace what you've lost." With one gulp Noerdir drained the last of his mug, then took the pitcher nearby and refilled both his and Avandur's. "Many of us ponder how we would face those we've wronged if they came upon us." He raised his mug and waited for Avandur's to clack against it. "At last I'm certain for myself." Auros had seen eyes like his before, on friend and foe alike who had just made an irrevocable choice.
Avandur snatched up his plate and stood. "By your leave, I think I'll sample some more dishes." He nodded to Auros and left. It wasn't food he was after. He'd decided to begin his investigation alone. He spent the rest of the meal interrogating those at the other tables, asking what hopefully were discrete questions. Only a handful of men had the look or bearing won from a life at sea. He didn't spend long with any of them, but none appeared indignant or angry afterward.
Noerdir spoke freer once Avandur had gone, though none of it was of use to their search. They shared information about Numenor, Eriador, and tidings from other lands. The man and his wife proved to be cordial, asking of the journey, even offering a room for as long as they needed. Auros saw no reason to reject their hospitality.
As evening drew near and the crowd of revelers thinned, Avandur gave up on his search for the day. Noerdir and Bessidh led them to their home. Linneth and Nellwen ran ahead, frogs in hand. The moment the door opened the girls raced upstairs, while Noerdir showed his guests to a bedroom in the back. "I trust you don't mind sharing."
Auros set his pack next to the door and scanned the room. Small, but two beds. Already better than most Hildorin inns. "It's more than generous. Thank you."
Noerdir nodded. "I'll give you time to settle in. If your journey and the festivities haven't yet made you weary, I invite you to join me by the fire in the den before you sleep. We'll trade tales." Sing-songy chants for "daddy" floated down the hall. His shoulders squared properly for the first time since the meal and he flashed a grin. "Daddy duties. It's time for me to put my children to bed." Not more than a minute after he left, giggles and funny voices tumbled down the stairs.
Avandur tossed his sword down on a bed. "This one's mine."
Auros put his hand to his baldric, hesitated, and left it on. This secluded village was peaceful, but it wasn't home. He pressed down into the unclaimed bed. More than just the blanket yielded to his hand. Better than sleeping on the ground, and most certainly better than the offerings at the last inn. "Did your questioning turn up any..." There it was again. A scent like roses and... not almond, but a flower that smelled similar to almond. If only he could remember the name. He glanced over to his companion, who, as expected, was fidgeting with something in his cloak pocket. "What is it?"
Avandur met the question with a deer gaze, but recovered quickly. "It's nothing."
"I'm very certain it's something. Mildred gave you a gift of some sort, didn't she?"
"How did you know?"
"It's a small room. Also I've been downwind of you most of the ride. Every time you reassure yourself it's not been lost, I catch the scent."
"Still? The perfume wore off weeks ago, or so I thought."
"Still." Sometimes his nose was too strong for his own good. His memory of scents was stronger and more dangerous yet. Auros waited until it was clear Avandur had become absorbed in his trinket again. Then he smiled. "What is it?"
"Oh." Avandur pulled a long crimson scarf from his cloak. Longer than Auros would've expected to fit in a pocket.
"When a lady gives a favor like that, it's usually meant to be displayed."
Avandur's brow furrowed, then he took his sword from the bed and tied the scarf around its scabbard. "Like this?"
"Aye. It reminds you what you're fighting for, and who."
Five times he'd wrapped the scarf around, and still it ran half the length. A small embroidered flower decorated each dangling end. "Do you know what it means?"
"Flower language wasn't one of my interests."
"Huh." Avandur grinned. "I never expected to meet a knight who didn't know it."
"My osellë was incredulous when she found out. I know which flowers the maidens like, and which say more than I mean. That'd always served me well enough until..." Auros gripped his baldric.
"Another story you won't finish?" Avandur grinned wider.
"Bah. You know more than enough already."
Avandur chuckled and lay his sword back on the bed. "You could at least tell me how things went with the dark-haired girl."
Auros sighed. "She's happily married."
"Ahhh." His grin stretched as wide as the sound.
"To a man who didn't leave the village."
"Oh." It came out as short as the former had been long. "I'm sorry."
Auros chuckled. "So was my osellë. I think she was more invested than I or the girl. We'd made no vows. We weren't in love. Our interest hadn't evolved beyond, well, interest, so I'm not sorry. I'm happy she found someone who loved her. Even were I the kind of fool to begrudge that, I refuse to pine for a woman who regards me the way she regards her farrier. I reject the folly of Gwindor and Daeron."
Avandur cleared his throat. "Shall we join our host? Maybe there's something I can learn before the investigation begins in earnest tomorrow."
"Remember we're guests."
"Of course, and I know the duties. I'm not a savage."
"Good."
A fire burned bright in the den, but their host was absent. It was an average den for an average family. The furnishings were sturdy and well-made, uniformly shaped. A few books sat on a shelf, but the spectacle, or spectacles rather, were the knickknacks. They were decidedly not uniform. They were works of art made by young hands, displayed with the pride another might display their armor and arms, or their greatest works, or a family relic. These were his family relics. Giggles still carried from upstairs. Auros picked up a knickknack from the mantel and grinned. He wouldn't begrudge the man either. "We should leave our questions until the morning."
Avandur leaned in close. "Auros, I've assured you I will be a proper guest, but I refuse to miss any opportunity."
"I'm just—"
The thud of feet on stairs replaced the giggles and Auros fell silent. Noerdir appeared a moment later.
"My apologies for keeping you waiting. The Years of Children race past, and I'm coming to realize just how short they are. Though perhaps I shouldn't envy the Eldar. Their decades might not be any more of a gift."
Auros nodded. "I'm certain I would find those days equally short."
"That's likely true. Most don't think to miss them until they're gone." Three glasses waited on a small table next to a bottle of an amber cordial. Noerdir filled the glasses and pressed one into each of their hands. "Something to make the tales flow freer. I expect this will challenge even elvish constitutions."
"We shall see." Auros raised his glass with Noerdir and Avandur and took a sip. Its taste hinted at ginger, cinnamon, and something reminiscent of berries. "Quite flavorful."
"It's the honey from our beehives. What we make with it tastes better than anything you'll find in these parts. Around festival times we set some aside for scant little treats like this."
Auros raised his glass again. "A gracious host."
"It's not often we have such esteemed guests." He motioned to the two large cushioned chairs by the fire.
Avandur looked at the chairs, then back to Noerdir. "And you?"
"I feel like standing." His hand rested on the mantel, but weight hadn't shifted from his legs and his back was too stiff. His stance was a lie of ease.
Avandur shrugged when Auros claimed the first chair, then settled into the other and took a healthy sip of the spiced libation. "You have a lovely family."
Noerdir took a gulp and stared into the fire. "I might've had a son your age, had things gone otherwise. Different choices. Different regrets." The glass in his hands flickered golden-red light against his face, glistering in his eyes as if visions of disparate lives danced before them. "They're better than I deserve, but I suppose a man can't earn that kind of love. You just find yourself with it, and once you have it you'll give anything to protect it. You fear it'll end too soon and pray it lasts longer than you hope. You don't want lose it, so you find yourself striving to be a better man than you've ever been in your life. And it hurts, what you endure so that they can look up to you. You accept that pain so you can look at their messy, smiling faces knowing you'll never let them down. I've been blessed to call them mine, to tuck them in every night, to have them wrap their arms around my neck, to tell them stories. There's nothing like the first time your child calls you 'daddy'. Five years. Five years is more of a blessing than most men get. You'll know what I mean some day." He watched the amber-red flames dancing about in his glass, then took a sip instead of a gulp. "So, Avandur, regale me with your story."
Avandur shot a glance to Auros. "Story? Which one?"
"This man you're looking for. He's decidedly not a friend to you, whatever he may have been to your father. That much I could tell from the glare your plate suffered at his mention."
Avandur's eyes shot to the stairs.
"Don't worry. My wife is with them. No one will intrude tonight."
"I..." He looked over at Auros again. "We don't wish to impose on your hospitality by involving you."
"And yet I offer."
Auros circled the bottom rim of his glass on the arm of the chair. He'd been reminded many times it wasn't his mission.
Avandur looked down into his own glass. "He killed my father."
"Because he was Elendili."
"...Yes."
"They said he tripped and fell overboard. They lied. The man you seek cut the ropes that sent him into the sea."
Avandur's eyes shot to Noerdir. "How do you know this?"
"I was on that voyage."
He leaned forward in his chair. "You sailed with my father?!"
"I did. You look just like him, you know. In all these years since his death, never have I seen his likeness so clearly until I saw you today in the square. It's an evil thing that happened to him."
"How well did you know him?"
"I can't say we were close, but we got along well enough. We'd sailed together on a few voyages. Don't think I'd ever heard him say anything that would make me think he was Elendili. I never heard him talk about the Valar, and I never heard a complaint about it either, but he talked about you all the time. People always asked if you were going to follow in his footsteps. He'd just say whatever path you took, you'd have no rival."
"I just want him to be proud." Avandur stared down into his glass. Auros knew that look too. A hundred, a thousand memories of lessons and lectures played out in the reflection. Avandur wondered if his father would approve of the path he walked, if he would've wanted vengeance, or if he'd have said to bury him and move on. That final thought lasted less than a moment as his face hardened again. "He didn't suffer, did he?"
"I don't think he suffered long, no. I've been on the wrong end of a few taut ropes when they've snapped. Nothing that big though. I imagine it felt like a wallop from a dragon's tail. Evil indeed, especially on that kind of a night. No moon. No stars. Just a lantern that couldn't brighten past its own frame and brief flashes of lightning that scorched our eyes. He couldn't have seen it coming to brace for it."
"So that's why no one noticed a man cutting the ropes."
"I doubt anyone would've looked even if they could see. No one would've dared to go aloft once the wind and the rocking really started, the boat dipping up, down, and nearly on its side. No one dared stray far from the masts except when ordered. One rough wave can cost a man his footing. Up in the rigging... If you've been through a squall, a real squall, like Ossë took a hating to you that even Uinen can't restrain, you know that few things freeze a man's blood like falling through pitch black, except maybe the landing. You understand what it takes to get someone up there. That night it was as if Ulmo himself upended the Sea, shook it, and dumped it back on us again. Sharks flopped and thumped as they were thrown onto the deck. Rain came down too hard to drum. It was constant, steady, like a long saw dragging across a log. You keep waiting for a pause that never comes. It was the kind of rain that makes the light dark and the darkness darker."
Avandur sank back and stared at the ground in front of him. Hopefully he was sorting through all the questions Noerdir's revelation dropped in his lap.
"I said before that no words I can give will heal you, but I have better than words to offer."
"He's here."
"Yes. His cabin isn't far. A days' journey at most. I'll give him to you, but you take him and you go. Go far from my village. His fate won't be met here. I won't have my children see it. I won't have anyone's children see it. They don't need to carry that burden. As far as this village is concerned he'll be called away to fulfill an oath."
"What if he won't come quietly?"
"He will. I'll ensure that."
"Why would you hand over one of your own?"
"Your word first."
"You have my word. We'll take him and go. Nothing will be done to him in your village." He didn't hesitate long enough, though another glance over showed how much he wished he had. The promise, and the means to fulfill it, were much too broad.
"Good. Good." Noerdir sipped his glass and stared into the fire. "He's a cruel, self-serving villain of a man, not that you need convincing. We go way back, he and I. Further than me and your father. I thought at one time he had a shred of decency. It wasn't long after your father's death that we had a falling out. He discovered his brother took a wife from among the people of Endor."
Auros looked up from his drink. Noerdir's words flickered as if grazed by a gentle breeze.
Noerdir scoffed. "'Lesser peoples'. That's what he called them. His brother's wife was much more gracious than he deserved. They'd been wed for years by that time. She must've heard all about him, and he didn't take kindly to that either. And when his brother, the poor fellow, admitted he was Elendili too? Families have disagreements, but what kind of man disowns his own brother?"
"That's why you're willing to toss him to the sharks?" Avandur's eyes narrowed as he examined Noerdir. Something was off, but Auros couldn't name it and Avandur seemed unable to as well.
"Why not? He did it to your father."
Their quarry would be surrendered up to them, and all they had to do was secret him away from the village. Simple. Too simple. Avandur had to know it too. The way he swirled his glass: deliberate, attentive, like if he let the whirlpool settle a ship might surface from it. "You know what I plan to do to him?"
"I have an idea."
"You'll still hand him over?"
"He deserves no better. He's had it too good for too long. You haven't seen him walk through our forgiving little village, flaunting his happiness as if he had a right to it. Lording it over others who did much less and suffered much more. Much too long. He needs to pay for what he did. You'll never know the full extent of his crimes. Those he betrayed, the petty reasons behind his betrayals. They cry out for justice as eagerly as your father. Because of him I see your father's death every time I close my eyes. Every night it's that storm again. Lightning strikes the crest of a nearby wave and there he is on our lee, bobbing amidst a circle of fins and darkening water. Maybe if that man finally faces justice I can have peace." He drained his glass and set it on the mantel. "He deserves everything you intend and more." Noerdir flicked the empty glass and a note shot through the den. Throughout his tale the light of his voice bent and wavered, but hadn't gone out.
Auros sipped his drink. Noerdir had put enough effort into villifying their quarry that his goal was no mystery. He meant to forge the younger man's ire into something sturdier. More tempered. More dangerous. Something less likely to waver since duty was no longer just to a murdered father, but to countless others with no one to seek justice for them. Noerdir thought the younger man needed that to see his quest through. He was wrong. After the last several weeks traveling with Avandur, Auros knew only one thing might stay his hand.
Avandur sat in silence for several moments. Before too long his grip tightened on the glass and his body stiffened. "If everyone was huddled around the masts, how did you see him in the water?"
A sound caught in their host's throat, then a sigh escaped. "From the rigging, of course." He turned to face his guests, resignation written on his face. "I kept my word. Now you'll keep yours. Before dawn I'll kiss my wife and children. I'll tell them I've been called on to honor an old vow, as we agreed. Once we're far from here you'll take your justice." He pulled from a pocket an unsealed letter and handed it to Auros. "Sometime after it's done, you'll leave this at an inn about a day's journey east of where the Greenway meets the Great East Road. The innkeeper will know what to do from there. You can read it if you wish."
Auros pulled the papers from the envelope. One was a letter to his brother's widow, apologizing again for years of coldness. The second, yellowed with age, was to his wife and daughters, explaining he died honoring his vow, and assuring them of his love and that they'll be taken care of. The last, not as old nor as new as the other two, was a set of instructions to the innkeeper. He slid them back into the envelope. Noerdir had anticipated this fate. No, he'd planned it.
Planned. The vision of justice Avandur had shared assumed a single path: a struggle where the man would be dead at the end. At no point did it allow for the possibility he might surrender. Ever so slightly the lip of Avandur's glass ovalled. If it ovalled any further he'd be picking shards from his palm. Wobbling flames within became his focus. Perhaps he saw the reveal as another betrayal by Fate. The ease attempted to thwart his efforts. Perhaps he weighed how much of Noerdir's story to doubt. Perhaps it was Noerdir's sincerity he doubted. His other hand clenched around his belt. A sword would've rested there had he not left it on the bed. This was what he wanted. It was his quest. His decision. His weight to carry.
CRACK.
Floorboards rattled under the force of a burning log rending itself apart. Avandur jolted to his feet and flung his glass into the furthest reaches of the fire. Pitted against the log, its shattering was soft. Fragments scattered along the back wall. Dampened wood hissed and smoked while flames ducked into dry crevices. The scent of berry blossom washed over the room before singeing into a sweet char.
Avandur's hands clenched and shook. His teeth creaked. His glare drove through Noerdir as sure as any spear. He could strike then and there. He might. Noerdir didn't move, not because he was afraid, but because he'd accepted judgement. Twice Avandur's fists threatened to leave his side, but at last he turned away from the fire. Away from Noerdir. "Let's go Auros."
Vercalusse waited outside with Avandur's horse. The village's stable had proven no surer a hold than any other. He nickered as Auros patted his neck and settled the packs. "Pleased with yourself as always, my friend?"
Avandur hesitated at the threshold, gripping his sword around the scarf like it was all that prevented him from knocking Noerdir to the floor. "Don't ever fail to earn their love."
They left in silence. They rode in silence. Auros would've said something if there was something his companion would hear. Not until they found the main road again and the canopy of trees opened up to moonlight did Avandur end the mute.
"I didn't do it for him."
Hooves struck against well-travelled dirt.
"I didn't do it for Mildred either."
Crickets paid homage to their procession.
"I just couldn't do to those girls what he did to me. I hate him for what he did to my father, and I hate him for making me choose."
Somewhere a lost wolf howled for its pack.
"My father will never rest now."
"Your father deserved justice. For the penitent, sometimes the harshest sentence is living with the remorse."
"Too bad we can't know who's truly penitent." Avandur's gaze fell to the pommel of his saddle. "I've spent so long hunting my father's murderer. I've waited so long to make him pay. I never considered he might want it too."