I went to the Hall of Fire and sat, and drank a bottle or two of wine. Sogadan told me how Lord Belegos is angry with his friend Estarfin. I said I was not surprised in the least; I had just come from that fell warrior’s home and his face was smeared with blood. It seems he spares no one in his wrath, not even himself. This made Sogadan mighty curious, but I did not tell him all that I saw, lest I shame the name of the House of Vanimar. Everything was so nasty and wretched everywhere I looked, and the floor was covered with broken glass ground into the filthy carpets, and there were many fist-sized holes in the plaster walls that it is a wonder the house still stands.
Lord Belegos once told me I should try to see the world through Estarfin’s eyes. Well, I have seen it, and it is mighty dusty and smashed. I wonder how it is that Estarfin can find tolerable shelter inside that ruined place, but perhaps he has resolved to be dirty and does not mind it. It is no place of contentment, nor safety, nor honour for him, and it saddens me to think of him sitting alone in those miserable ruined rooms. But he must prefer it, else he would not have driven his friends away. Yet he bid me welcome, and asked that I step inside for wine, so I do not know what to believe.
I do not see how anyone would find this sad condition bearable; and I find it a strange thing that Estarfin can suffer living there, and not be weary of the dust. He seems the most proper warrior in all other respects, and keeps his self very neat, and his clothing is never dirty or spotted, but always clean, and his weapons are kept in good condition. It is worth remembering how great and noble some can seem, whilst their homes are in shambles and disarray.
