65: Attack...

"Well?"

"They’ve gone to Tavrobel with Lord Gilvagor."

"So they’ve taken ship?"

"No. They are staying at the Blue Dolphin. The Sinda’s been seen walking the docks and speaking to the harbormaster and others."

Pause.

"That will be the best place to take him then."

"And the guildmistress?"

"She isn’t important except to act as our messenger. We need someone to relay our demands to Arafinwë."

"Do you think it will work?"

Shrug. "We’ll find out soon enough."

"How many ellyn will we need for this?"

"Not many. He’s a potter, not a warrior."

"He wears the braids..."

"So do you."

Another pause.

"Where do we bring him?"

"Here. Bring him here. There’s a room in the back of the shop with no windows we can use. No one’s going to think to look for him in a weaver’s shop."

****

The docks of Tavrobel were similar to other docks he had seen, especially at the Havens. The smell of salt water, rotting fish, and bleached wood mingled with the sounds of sea gulls screeching and sailors singing. Sador breathed in the redolent air and smiled.

He had been wandering the docks for the last two days, speaking to the harbormaster and the customs officer and anyone else who would bother with a curious Sinda. So far he had learned nothing of import. The harbormaster and customs officer had little to say about higher prices, for they did not concern themselves with such. The merchants whose shops were ranged around the docks were not forthcoming either. They looked upon the Sinda with suspicion, even though Sador had traded his Amanian garb for the less flashy clothes worn by the Tol Eressëans. Gilvagor was wrong about the warrior braids, Sador reflected ruefully to himself as he made his way through an alley. So far, they hadn’t helped. He had detected no outright hostility towards him, but neither had he seen any evidence of respect. Perhaps the merchants and sailors of Tavrobel were less impressed by warrior braids than the other Tol Eressëans. He wondered how Gilvagor had fared.

It had been decided that Netilmírë would remain at the inn and out of sight while Sador and Gilvagor did any investigating that needed doing. She little liked it, but understood its necessity. The revelation of what her own people had done still left her shaken and she had much to think about. Gilvagor had agreed to make discreet enquiries about Sador’s family.

"It will be easier for me than for you," Gilvagor had said, "as I am known here and it will not be the first time I have asked after someone’s family. Many people were separated from their kin by war and death and all seek for news about them."

After two days, however, neither ellon had had any luck in finding the information they were looking for.

"No one remembers them," Gilvagor said as the three sat in the common room eating dinner on the second evening. "Of course, that really means nothing. There was so much confusion in the end and so much destruction. I doubt we will ever know the full extent of the damage done and the lives lost."

"And I have had no luck either," Sador admitted with a sigh. "Either no one is talking or there is nothing to the allegations. I just wish I knew for certain which it is."

"Do you have any idea what you want to do next?" Netilmírë asked. She had been feeling left out and bored these past two days and was ready to return to Tirion. She had had enough of Tol Eressëa and just wanted to go home.

Sador shrugged. "I want to check out the warehouse district itself. Perhaps I will find someone there who will talk to me. Something is going on. I just wish I knew what." He sighed in frustration.

Gilvagor nodded. "I think it best that you leave for Tirion soon. If you wish, I will check for available ships. I would not linger more than another day or two here. You will be safer on the mainland and I will feel easier in my mind about you."

Sador and Netilmírë agreed. "Whether or not I find anything tomorrow, we will leave on the next available ship," Sador said.

"I’ll make the arrangements," Gilvagor replied.

****

Sador was navigating a narrow alley between the docks and the warehouses that surrounded the harbor, when the attack came. At first he was not sure what was happening. He had been alone as he traversed the alley and then suddenly there were others there, both before and behind him. Some instinct or warning made him back into the wall to prevent the ellyn from taking him completely unawares. He was acutely aware that he wore no weapons. But then, he thought grimly, I hadn’t had any in Doriath either.

He smiled ferally and took stock of his surroundings. The alley itself was relatively clean of refuse and such but next to him stood a barrel with a lid. He wasn’t sure what help that might be to him but he kept it in mind. Next he took stock of his opponents. There were three of them, all taller and obviously stronger than he. Two wore warrior braids and that surprised him, but on reflection, he decided it shouldn’t. Not all warriors would be as honorable as Gilvagor or Haldir. The ellon without warrior braids beckoned to him.

"Come with us quietly and you will not be harmed," he said.

"And if I choose not to come, quietly or otherwise?" Sador was amazed at how steady his voice sounded, for he felt his knees shaking and he feared he might be sick.

The ellon without any braids smiled and it was not pleasant. His fellows each pulled out a long knife from beneath their cloaks and he was sure they knew well how to use them. "We know you are unarmed," said the braidless elf. "It would be foolish to defy us. Let us not have any unpleasantness."

"It is already unpleasant," Sador retorted. He then reached over and lifted the lid from the barrel and with a swift flick of his wrists sent it flying towards two of the ellyn. The move surprised them and before they could react the lid hit them both with enough force to cause them to fly back into the opposite wall. The ellon without braids banged his head and collapsed to the ground while the other ellon dropped his knife with a curse though he was not as badly stunned. He did, however, hold his knife hand in such a way that Sador suspected it was either broken or very badly bruised. Either way, the ellon wouldn’t be wielding a weapon any time soon.

Sador did not stop there, but took the barrel and tipped it so that its contents, a thick oily substance, poured out in front of him. The third ellon had started to advance on him and when the oil sloshed upon the pavement, he lost his balance on the slippery substance. That gave Sador enough time to pick up the now empty barrel and throw it at the ellon before sidling away from his attackers. Avoiding the oil seeping across the alley he ran towards the docks. There was a shout and the sound of pursuit but Sador did not look back to see how many were after him. If he could reach the docks themselves he would be safe.

He was almost at the end of the alley when he crashed into someone who stepped into his path. There was a confused moment of arms grabbing him and then something hit him on the head and he blacked out.

****

"Any sign?" Netilmírë asked anxiously. She and Gilvagor were sitting in the common room of the Blue Dolphin. Gilvagor had just returned from searching for Sador. It was mid-afternoon by then and they were the only patrons.

Gilvagor shook his head as he sat down next to Netilmírë. "I looked between here and the docks and then on to the warehouse district, but no one claims to have seen him."

"What could have happened?"

"I don’t know," Gilvagor admitted in frustration. "I should not have let him go alone."

"You weren’t to know, Gilvagor, so don’t berate yourself so," Netilmírë admonished the ellon. "Let’s concentrate on finding my great-grandson and then getting away from this wretched island."

Gilvagor sighed, and looked chagrined. "It’s really not a bad place to live you know. I thought I might resent not being allowed to live in Aman proper, but I find I like it here and have no regrets."

"I’m sorry," Netilmírë said. "I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I just want my great-grandson back safe. I’ve only just found him and now I’ve lost him again."

"I don’t know where else to look," Gilvagor said with a sigh.

"You might try looking in Kortirion."

The two elves looked up to see a Maia standing before them, one they did not recognize. He wore a white robe and a forest green surcoat with a golden oak embroidered on it. They stood up hastily to give him their obeisance but he waved them back to their seats. "Peace, my children. Please be seated."

"Do you know where Sador is?" Netilmírë asked, ignoring the Maia’s request. "Please. If you know..."

"I would not tell you, child. That is for you to discover. I will only tell you that you should look in Kortirion."

"It’s a large city," Gilvagor said in a conversational tone. "Care to be more specific?"

The Maia gave the ellon an appraising look. "I have told you all that I’m allowed to tell you."

"Which is little enough and therefore next to useless." Gilvagor’s tone bordered on the belligerent and rude and Netilmírë cringed mentally. The Maia did not seem offended by Gilvagor’s words.

"But it is a start and we thank you," Netilmírë rejoined, not wanting to be on the bad side of the Powers or their servants.

The Maia bowed before giving Gilvagor a hard stare. "I regret I cannot tell you more, but my orders were specific. Look in Kortirion for your missing friend. And I will give you one more message. Wait for reinforcements."

With that, the Maia was gone. Netilmírë and Gilvagor stared at one another in bemusement. "What reinforcements?" Gilvagor finally asked.

"And how long do we wait?" Netilmírë added.

They received no answers to their questions.

****

In the end, it was decided that Gilvagor would return to Kortirion while Netilmírë remained in Tavrobel to keep an eye out for whatever ‘reinforcements’ might show up.

"I don’t understand how reinforcements would come anyway," Netilmírë said as Gilvagor was packing. "I mean, no one even knows about Sador being missing."

Gilvagor shrugged. "I don’t think I want to question anything a Maia says to me. If he says reinforcements are on the way, then they are. I don’t think you will have to wait for very long. The Maia would not say it if it weren’t about to happen, I think. Did you recognize the surcoat?"

Netilmírë nodded abstractedly. "Hmm. It was Lord Oromë’s emblem."

"Lord Oromë?" Gilvagor echoed in surprise. "What would the Master of the Wood be doing concerning himself with Sador... or us, for that matter?"

Netilmírë shrugged. "I do not know, but that was the emblem on the surcoat. Perhaps it’s because Sador is a Sinda."

"You will be all right?" Gilvagor asked Netilmírë as he was preparing to leave. The elleth nodded.

"I will be fine. The people here at the Blue Dolphin have been ever courteous and solicitous and I have no fear for my safety with them. Young Margil says he will go to the docks every day for me. I have the feeling that if there are reinforcements, they will come from Tirion."

Gilvagor nodded. "Nai le tiruvar Valar. I will send word as soon as I know anything."

"Find Haldir and Gwilwileth," Netilmírë said at the last minute. "They will help." She gave him directions for their home and he nodded his thanks before riding off.

Netilmírë stood at the door of the inn watching Gilvagor disappear down the street, turning to go inside only after she lost sight of the ellon completely. She sighed, wondering if she would ever see her great-grandson again.

Later that evening, as she was idly picking at her dinner Margil came and placed a small thin box on the table.

"An ellon left this for you," said the young son of the innkeeper. "He didn’t leave a name and I’ve never seen him before."

Netilmírë thanked the young elf and, opening the box, found a piece of parchment lying on top of a scrap of woven cloth in a pattern that seemed vaguely familiar, though she could not immediately place it. Picking up the parchment she read the words written in Quenya with growing dread.

"We have your friend. If you wish to see him alive, do nothing until you hear from us again. Disobey us and next time we will cut off a more vital part of his body."

Netilmírë unfolded the piece of cloth with trembling fingers. She sat there in white-faced shock staring at one of her great-grandson’s braids, the gemstones and beads glittering in the lamplight.

"Valar help us," she whispered, then proceeded to throw up right then and there.

****

Nai le tiruvar Valar: (Quenya) "May the Valar guard you."