The ride from Gondor into Eriador and Breeland had been reasonably quick and shockingly quiet, especially as they were travelling with a fair sized company. Xanderian, Xandilif, Finchley, Calidis, Hawke, Eduwiges, Asmalinde, Nethrida and Addiela had taken the road from Tol Lochul, with Rathvald acting as advance scout. Perhaps the very size of the group discouraged excessive hostility along the road, but what calm existed within the band itself came from long history with one another and a sense of subdued shock and anticipation that still existed.
They had departed barely a day after the remains of Xanir, the brother of Xanderian and Xandilif, had been interred. Beyond that the shocks and fears that arose from the events causing the foul Mans of the Dourhand to be brought back from the dead were still fresh in many of their minds, especially Addie. Beyond that they were coming to Bree on dire business, to seek information the history of Finchley and to gain knowledge about the Angmar brand on her flesh. This was not a carefree, happy company which finally road through Breeland and stopped at the Prancing Pony.
Soon after alighting, Hawke noted that there seemed to be a bounty still upon his head in Breeland with some old, yellowing posters bearing a fair likeness of him posted around. The bounty had been increased to 100 gold, which caused some gentle teasing about his worth from his friends. The young man however was not laughing, as beyond bringing back foul memories, it also made him worried that his long standing troubles would complicate Finchley’s mission. Therefore he slipped away into Beggar’s Alley to see old allies to gain information, and to stay more out of sight then the main room of the Pony would allow.
Soon after he dissappeared, Xanderian also slipped away, leaving Xandilif to lead the others into the Prancing Pony to take up rooms…eventually. After all, there was drinking to do.
Some time later, an hour or two before dawn on their first night back in Bree, Xandilif slipped down the stairs of the ornate and obscure Library where she knew she would likely find her sister. As she had predicted, Xanderian was there. The Monk of Osgiliath sat before the fire, tracing maps of some of the more arcane pathways through Angmar. Knowing her sister’s footfall well, she did not bother to look up as she approached. “All is well? What has occurred with our fellows? Has Gwaelion returned?” She asked.
Xandilif shrugged and leaned against the wall, laying SilverWand across one of the desks. “No sign of Gwaelion yet but that ain’t surprising. As for the rest, the Pony is still standing but just barely. Babygirl met one of her Dwarrow, a one handed fellow she called Maurr who seems to know Addie as well. They all seemed happy. There was also a woman there with one wounded eye, I had seen her with Finchley when I got her from Rivendell. She seemed to know something about those bandits that had messed with Addie all that time back.”
Xanderian paused and looked up, thinking back. “A wounded eye….Unhooded Cyn then. Interesting. So all was quiet?”
The Champion of the Azure Faithful snorted in derision. “Quiet? This bunch? Not hardly. Nethrida stayed out of mischief, mostly…and Calidis went to her room as soon as we got in the door. As for the rest, Finchley tried to eat a cow, or the better part of one, and spent most of her time wondering how she could be happy and sad at the same fecking time. HorseImp went all morose and sideways, plastering on a Miss Breeland Livestock Queen smile that might have fooled the normal Pony hooplehead but that dwarf Maurr was not buying for a damn second. Anyway, whatever the cyclops girl had to saw about the Bandits was shaking Addie, so I expect somebody will be some killing to do. As for the new girl, Asma whatever, I lost track of her, she could be feckin’ anywhere.”
The Monk sighed and rolled up the map she had been working on. “I had hoped Addie would have been calmed by the travel, but it was apparently not to be..a foolish hope considering she has returned to the “scene of the crime” so to speak. And what of Eduwiges?”
Xandilif laughed. “Ah I was saving the best for last. She had been boozing since we stopped in Staddle because Babygirl wanted to eat a “Staddle Fried Chicken” whatever the feck that was. Once we hit the Pony Edu doubled down, ale in one hand and whiskey in the other...all on my feckin tab. Then she met this girl, cute little thing in the bob-haired waif style, named Anu...Anuralial, Anuranie…something like that. She called herself Ani.”
Xanderian nodded then smiled to herself. “Ani? Anurania? I remember her…”
“Yeah, well she sure remembered YOU...awful well.” The Banshee laughed again. “and REAL DAMN fondly. Anyway she and Eduwiges hit it off just fine…then the whiskey hit Eduwiges.”
“Oh no….” Xanderian shook her head.
Xandilif smirked wider. “Oh yes..she dropped to the floor of the Pony like a gelded troll, BAM. That little Ani was certainly put out as from the way they were whispering Edu had just promised to show the girl her scars…all of em. So I made her apologies and told her I hoped she would find some way to work off that head of steam, gathered up what was left of Edu, then picked up Addie before she got herself kidnapped by some bandit just because she was there and old habits die hard. I put em in your old rooms at the Pony and came lookin’ for you as planned…figured you’d be here already.”
Xanderian nodded and drew her quivers and knapsacks out from under the map table reluctantly. “Indeed….final preparations...but we still need to discuss this. Are you still committed to this course, Banshee? Are you sure about this? I wonder, as you brought no gear.”
Lif looked uncomfortable. “See, that’s the thing Rian…I know it was my idea and all…but I ain’t so sure of this no more. In fact...after seeing how helpless that bunch is on their own...I might be losing my nerve.”
Xanderian tilted her head, voice tired and tense. “You said you did not wish the others to die as Xanir did, simply to cause us upset, and that we would do better for Small Finchley by taking the fight directly to the Guild of the Unsealed. Has your viewpoint changed?”
The Champion ran one hand through her hair.…”No..I know it would be smarter..safer. I know that Mans ain’t gonna stop now till he’s bled us dry. They don’t need us like freakin death marks on their backs…but…”
“Yes…But…” Xanderian was staring now, she may have never seen Xandilif like this…unsure, shaken….her fear and doubt were palpable scents in the cold air of the library. “Mans is going to come for them even if we are not there now. He has marked us all. He is going to know that if he slays them when we are elsewhere it’ll cut just as deep, perhaps deeper. Do I really want to find Gwaelion’s head in a box next…or Eduwiges'? Nethrida’s? If we take the fight to Angmar can you promise that won’t happen? A week ago you seemed that you thought you could."
The Monk of Osgiliath moved closed, trying to catch her sister’s elusive eye. “As I said then, we cannot promise anything, you know that. This is war, everyone knows it..and the good and the great die as readily as the foul in war. Only fools make promises in war. But, I agreed with your thought that if we make enough noise we may draw fire, we may attract Mans to a more direct vengeance while he still feels secret and powerful…your logic was not flawed, Banshee, up to a point…do you no longer think it wise?”
Lif faced the fire, rubbing her face. “Wise? What is wise in days of madness? Still…. I…I cannot follow through. Am I so weak? No, my logic was not flawed…we are soldiers, we take the hits, we bear the scars for those who cannot, who should not….that is how we were raised, how we were trained. It is all we know. Again and again. Mirkwood, Gorgoroth, Dol Acharn, Cirith Negen, Cair Andros, Tyl Annun, Morannon, Caravasse, Gorogrod, Minas Balthic…”
Xanderian watched her sister as she recited battles, campaigns, moments when the two had stood against darkness. Her list went on and on, a liturgy of the dead until the huntress had had enough. Finally, she whispered back to her. “Men Erain…..Caerfella…”
Xandilif stopped as if slapped, and fell silent. She turned dying, haunted eyes back to her sister.
“That is what you are really afraid of isn’t it? You are afraid of the Way of Kings, of Caerfella again, to be the last alive…to be the one who must continue, the one who watches love die. You thought once Mans had fallen, that it was safe, that you could care, even love again…you thought it was safe..yet it is not and you are exposed, we both are. You are just as vulnerable now as I have always been, you great hypocrite.” Xanderian didn’t dare touch her older sister yet, but moved closer, voice unrelenting.
The Champion did not even argue…she just struggled to breathe. “Rian..I can’t do that again..I can’t be like you, watching yet another crop of them die….I have been fighting all these years to be free of that night, of Caerfella Redoubt….They forced me…to be Adar…they forced it to be me…ME.” Her voice rose, as tears ran down her face, unnoticed.
Xanderian took her face in her hand. “Lif….no…NO… It…is not the same thing. You did what you did to preserve their memory, their honor. The Argent Lions will be forever a symbol of courage and sacrifice….slain in the line of duty by a prince of evil…”
The Champion shook her head…”NO….Lethril…me..slain by….me.”
Rian was weeping now as well….”No you had no choice Gawad…SilverWand allowed you to do what they could not…you know they bear you only thanks…that your silence helps them rest in glory…you know…”
Xandilif pulled away, barely able to speak anymore as each face seemed to live again in her memory. Torill the jester, brave Siryena, haughty Catheart, Ulric, so young…too young,….”I know I cannot see it happen again, I cannot be the last again….I will NOT.”
Xanderian wiped her eyes, rage filling her words. “So you think it will be better for you to be elsewhere, for them to fall without you? Do you really think that Xandilif? Truly?Would it have been better if Triss had died alone? Would Small Finchley prefer that, if her end is to come? To bleed out her life wondering why you abandoned her? The way Xanir must have wondered why his sisters had obeyed his childish tantrum and left him alone to die?”
The champion backhanded Xanderian, nearly spinning her around from the sheer force of the blow “SHUT UP LETHRIL!!!” she shouted, reaching for SilverWand.
The huntress took the blow, blood running down her chin, her cheek already swelling. She stepped forward, her own hand closing on SilverWand first, pushing the blade away along the table with a crash. “That’s it isn’t it! Does Finchley die in your arms like Triss, do Eduwiges and Addie and Nethrida die beside you as the Lions did and bear the consequences of your choices…or do they risk death alone, in the dark, knowing only fear? The terror that filled our brother’s last moment. Has time and blood left you a COWARD, Banshee? Does the Champion of the Azure Twilight flee to protect her fragile heart?”
Xandilif collapsed, shaking in tears, mumbling “…coward…” as her sister pulled her back up to her knees, whispering, kissing her hair softly. “No Gawad…no…we are not cowards to be afraid to see our friends die, we are just tired…and there is another choice. We FIGHT….we fight and we win. We have faith that we can finally make a difference that lasts longer than the next reversal, the next sacrifice, the next offensive, the next battle. We save them…we save all of them..all of us. We can do this if we stay unified, Gawad…you know we can. You are NOT alone…even if we are the last, you will not be the last ALONE."
The Champion looked up. Her shoulders slumped, exhausted. She whispered, touching her sister's wounded face….”You promise, Lethril?” and they both laughed bitterly. “FIne...Then we stay…and we fight....even if we are the last.”
Xanderian sat beside her..and rested her head against her shoulder. “We remain in our posts, we remain upon the wall...and we win…As Xanir would expect us to do.”
