Aglahad and the Dead City (In Tharbad: Volume Three)

2

The ride back took us past the ruins of Eregion, those ancient piles of stone along the Old Dwarf Road. The distant, jagged towers and crumbling walls of Ost-in-Edhil stood pale and ghostly against the horizon. The skeletal remains of those Noldorin towns and villages became more diffuse the further west we rode.

After three day's riding and with dusk falling, we saw the lights of Tharbad blinking in the distance, multiplying as the darkness thickened. The three towers of the Bridge of Tharbad rose above everything like a beacon in the darkening land.

As we rode along the edge of the Swanfleet, a bittern boomed somewhere out in the marshes and a dark patch of woodland loomed up on our right.

"This seemed smaller on the ride out," Aglahad said.

"A trick of the dark. I remember when these lands were covered by forest. From the mountains to the sea."

"What happened?"

"As soon as the Númenóreans - your ancestors – arrived in Eriador, they began logging. They did not cease until the Dark Lord made war on Eregion a thousand years later. What the Númenóreans hadn't already felled the orcs burned."

He was silent for a moment as he pondered this.

"I lived here for a time," I said.

"In Tharbad?"

"Many years ago. But that is another tale. Suffice to say that Tharbad is an old town. Full of legends and lies."

The boy gave me a puzzled look and we rode on in silence towards the eaves of the wood. Losnoron seemed to sense something and snorted loudly. Soon enough, dark shapes emerged from the trees and I resisted the urge to flee. Nine or ten archers shuffled through the grass, spreading out and blocking the road before us.

"Who are they?" Aglahad hissed.

"Dunlendings, by the look of their garb." They wore loose woollen tunics and breeches with hide boots and gloves. Their simple bows were levelled at us and we had no choice but to halt. A couple of the bandits came closer and lowered their weapons. They quivered their arrows before drawing long hunting knives. One of them grunted something guttural; it sounded a little like Haladin but I couldn't glean its meaning. He didn't smell as good as his ancient ancestors. He repeated himself, raising his voice, gestured to us to dismount.

"I suppose we should do as they ask," I said.

"If we lose the horses, we lose everything."

"Everything," the leader repeated, grinning. He raised his knife.

We dismounted while two of the bandits took the reins. Others started pulling our blankets and weapons from the saddles and rummaging through the saddle packs. We were held at knifepoint as we watched most of our effects being strewn across the road. The leader swaggered among his newly gained booty and picked out, Bregedúr. He strode over to us, swinging Aglahad's sword, holding it up as he approached. The leader tapped Aglahad's breastplate with the tip. Aglahad couldn't help himself; he swatted the blade aside with his bracer. The leader grabbed the boy's throat and spat the word for breastplate into the boy's face.

"Unhand me, savage." He swiped the leader's arm away.

As he pushed Aglahad, his guards let him tumble back onto the grass. They immediately picked him up and marched him back to the leader who repeated his demand. The guards held his arms and the leader raised his knife to the boy's face. Aglahad straightened up and gave the bandit a defiant stare.

I winced as the bandit nicked the boy's cheek. "Enough!" I cried out. "Aglahad, give him the breastplate." He gave me an enraged look before relaxing and holding his arms out. The bandits stepped away as Aglahad started to untie the straps of his armour. The bandits jabbered among themselves while the boy unbuckled the last of the straps and pulled the breastplate away. The leader grabbed the collar and swung it behind him into the grass.

At that moment, the leader twitched and half-staggered to one side. In the dim light I could see an arrow embedded in his chest. Within moments the Dunlendings were nocking their bows and aiming into the black wood. As the leader dropped to his knees a bowstring twanged and another bandit curled up and twisted to one side before dropping to the road.

Dark shadows bloomed from the wood and at first, I feared it was a rival band of robbers. As they neared the road, I saw the closest of them in more detail: their black, hooded cloaks and face scarves, their leather jerkins and gloves. Rangers. They outnumbered the Dunlendings more than two to one.

The foremost was the only one not aiming at the bandits and instead held a sword. "You have been warned before." The voice was a woman's. Now that their leader lay dead with an arrow through his heart, she was addressing the whole band.

It was now apparent that the Dunlendings could understand the Ranger's Westron but could not or would not speak it themselves. One of the bandits seemed eager to protest. He shouted in his harsh tongue, gesturing towards his dead leader and then to Aglahad and I. At length, he turned towards the boy and grabbed him, still jabbering. He dropped to a squat then sprang back up with Aglahad's sword in his hand. He lunged at the Ranger, who parried his attack with ease. Off-balance and unguarded, he cried out in pain as the Ranger slashed his upper arm. He dropped the sword before running into the grass and towards the fens. The others ran after him.

Aglahad reined the horses while I approached the lead Ranger.

"Thank you," I said.

She pulled back her hood and lowered her scarf. She wore her moon-silver hair in a high knot; a long scar ran from the bridge of her nose, across her cheek to her jaw. She reminded me of one I knew many years before.

"I do not wish to know what business you have on the Eregion Road. There is little trade to be had out there these days. I would only advise you to stay in the confines of the town after dark."

"We were caught by surprise, mistress."

"Finduilas is my name."

"And I am Siriondil of -"

"Finduilas!" Aglahad called out, leading the horses over. "A fair name for a fair maid. I am Thalion of Belfalas. And this is my squire, Siriondil."

I was surprised at how stoical the boy was. As though he was held up by robbers every day.

Finduilas raised her eyebrows. "Now if you would gather your things, we will escort you to town. There may be other bands of robbers along the road."