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

10

The Gulf of Lhûn shimmered in the afternoon sun, speckled with white-sailed ships. I paused on a hairpin bend of the road and took in the majesty of it. The Gaerannon, the two snow-peaked mountains that overlooked each shore, towered above everything. I had not looked upon this view for many years and I was filled with a joy I had not felt for nearly as many. The road zig-zagged down the rocky slope of the Sky's Edge, the long, sheer escarpment that abruptly marked the western edge of Emyn Beraid. It disappeared as it fell then re-emerged beyond an outcrop before running down the long slope towards the city.

From what I could see there was no sign of military activity anywhere in the Vale. The road fell now south now north now south. In the distance, a line of dots moved along the Harlond Road: no doubt riders from the haven at the mouth of the Gulf.

As I rode down towards the junction with the Road, I waved at three strand-guards who were sitting in their saddles, watching me as I approached. They wore fine cloaks and held long spears. I had never seen them before. One of them leaned on his pommel and another munched lazily on an apple.

The third turned his horse towards me. "Where are you headed, friend?"

"Mithlond," I said. "I return after many years abroad. Your faces are new to me."

He ignored the comment. "Your name?" he said.

"Cemendur Siriondil. I was the city's master healer in times past."

He looked me up and down before gesturing to follow, as though escorting me into the city was the worst of all chores.

Of all the places I have travelled to in this wide world Mithlond was home. The Grey Havens were hidden in a gorge that cut through the High Moor and it wasn't until we'd joined the East-West Road that I could finally look out upon the city where I used to live. With her spires and domes, her round arches and slender columns, Gil-galad and Círdan had built the city in memory of Eglarest. I had never been to the old havens but Tathariel had always spoken of their similarity with a sad fondness.

After the guards left me at the steps of the King's Halls, I looked out across the city. I did not realise it until now but I had missed the near-constant screech of gulls as they perched on chimneys or squabbled over some morsel at the quayside. I watched as one gull hopped from a roof ridge down the slope of fishtail tiles and joined a dozen others as they chased each other above the pale green roofs of the city.

I turned and climbed to the top of the stair, where two guards pushed the doors open onto the immense entrance hall. As I stepped over the threshold I halted at the spectacle before me. Lord Círdan's craftsmen had been busy in my absence. In the middle of the room there was a huge block of polished obsidian, carved in the likeness of a breaching whale. And now, stained-glass skylights flooded the roof space with pale blue light. The old beech timbers had been painted to look like mother-of-pearl and the floor now looked like the surf on the white beaches of the Gulf.

As I strolled around the hall, I heard familiar footsteps and my heart was lifted. I turned towards the western archway and there was Raindis in a silver gown, smiling broadly with tears welling in her eyes. We embraced and she rested her head on my chest for a long moment. At last we parted.

"Lord Círdan is otherwise engaged," she said. It had only been ten years since I'd heard her voice but it may as well have been an age. "He sent me in his stead."

"I am glad." I couldn't help grinning. "You are a welcome sight. I saw so many strange faces as I came into the city."

"More come every day. They tarry here hoping for passage west."

I nodded. "Have you eaten?"

* * *

We walked down to the harbour and a teahouse we used to frequent. Its name had changed but I couldn't remember from what. I noticed that Raindis's hair was different.