Dawn broke, but it still wasn’t really light yet. Only a narrow red line delineated the otherwise black firmament in the east. The wind was blowing steadily from River Anduin, carrying the scent of rain with it.
It’s too chilly for Minas Tirith, Radawen thought as she walked home, but after a while she felt too hot and decided she was just too tired.
Radawen lived in an apartment complex for scholars in the Sage’s Tier between the Old Archives and the Archives of Vorondil. Big lebethron double doors led into a small, dimly lit, windowless hall with stone walls and marble floor. Stone stairs climbed up from the end of the hall, turned right from a stair landing and rose up to the apartment complex high above the street. The rooms in the apartments were small, but they had large windows, offering a nice view over the Sage’s Tier and the Pelennor Fields far below the city. When Radawen turned the key on the lock of her door the sun had just reached the height of the Fifth Circle of Minas Tirith.
When she pushed the door open, she instinctively felt that something was wrong. She felt it before she saw it. She backed out of the door, trying to shut it before her, but then she felt a push on her back. Radawen was shoved inside the apartment and slammed against the wall. She opened her mouth to scream, but somebody pressed a gloved hand on her face.
The gauntleted hand prevented her from breathing. Instinctively Radawen bit the hand, hard, and tasted blood in her mouth while she shoved her elbow into his ribs. There was a grunt and swearing, then somebody hit her delicate face with a heavy fist. Radawen fell on her knees and felt like throwing up. When the nausea passed, she became enraged, trying to grab one of the many legs around her, but they were moving too fast. Somebody kicked her in the stomach and this time she threw up on the rug, almost blinded with pain.
Somebody grabbed her from behind and threw her on a wooden bench. Radawen looked around and saw that her room had been torn up. Every drawer had been opened and thrown on the floor, every book had been pulled out of her elegant bookcase and littered about the room like trash. Every damn book, she thought, wiping her bloodied mouth with her hand. Dirtbags! she thought, still furious.
A man sat astride the chair in front of her, resting his left arm on the back rest as he stared at Radawen with his expressionless fish eyes.
”Get out!” Radawen rasped.
”Not yet”, said the Fish-eye. ”We’re not quite finished yet.”
”Bastards! Dirtbags!”
The men in her room were clad in green and brown of various hues and wore green gauntlets and masks. Only their eyes were visible under their hoods and masks. The Fish-eye leaned his masked face closer to Radawen in a threatening manner and said:
”You know who we are, don’t you, Miss Radawen?”
”Get out of here!” Radawen said with her voice almost suffocating with anger. ”This is not Ithilien. This is Minas Tirith, and we have laws here! And you have no right to do this! Go back to your bush, you scum!”
”She sure has sharp teeth, the witch”, said the one Radawen had bitten, looking at his gauntleted hand dripping with blood with sad eyes. ”My good gloves. It’s all ruined now.”
”Shut up. Take a look at this, Miss Radawen”, said the Fish-eye in his flat voice, holding a parchment in front of Radawen’s face. ”We have a right to search this apartment, a permission from Torthadir, the Captain of Gondor. And while we were conducting our legal duty to search the apartment, you attacked us, trying to prevent us from performing our duties in the name of Gondor. We had to use force to pacify you, when words proved inadequate to calm you down.”
”You have no right here. This is not Ithilien, this is Minas Tirith!”
”We are performing this unpleasant duty to protect Gondor: Every man, woman and child in Gondor, including you, Miss Radawen. So your cooperation would be appreciated.”
”What do you want from me?”
The Fish-eye stared at her silently for a moment. ”We want to make sure you haven’t written down anything about the… unfortunate incident the other day. Whatever you know, Miss Radawen… whatever you think you know… I assure you, it would be in your best interest not to write or talk about it to anyone. Anyone, Miss Radawen. Your best interest, our best interest, the best interest of all of Gondor. To do otherwise would be an act of treason.”
”I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
”This is getting boring, Miss Radawen. We only want your cooperation.”
”You have no right to do this here in Minas Tirith”, Radawen said again. ”If you’re here on legal business like you say, then what’s with the masks? Why are you hiding behind masks like common brigands?”
The Fish-eye stared at her sadly, as if Radawen was a disappointment to him.
”You privileged youngsters of Minas Tirith are all alike”, he said. ”You live here comfortably behind your high walls in luxury, with your books and your high ideals. You have no idea what men like us do, the things we have to sacrifice so people like you can sleep cozily in your warm beds!”
”Like beating up women in their own homes? Yeah, sounds like a real hero’s noble calling.”
”You think you’re very clever, don’t you?”
”A lot more clever than you are”, Radawen said. She had been very scared at first, she had thought they had come to kill her, but now she was back to her own calm and collected self.
”We are keeping an eye on you, Miss Radawen”, said the Fish-eye. ”You had better to behave and keep your head down and your speculations to yourself. And not write anything about it anywhere, not even your personal diary. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? Just who do you think you’re playing with?”
The Fish-eye stood up and turned towards the door. He took a step towards it, then stopped and turned to look at Radawen again. ”And about this… unfortunate event”, he continued. ”I wouldn’t say anything about what happened here just now either. To anyone. Otherwise there might be some unpleasant consequences for you.”
”Are you coming to beat me up some more?”
”We could have you arrested. By the Citadel Guards. Maybe there was nothing we could get you convicted with, but your reputation here in Minas Tirith would be ruined, and your scholarly career over. You know we could do this, don’t you, Miss Radawen?”
His words chilled Radawen and made her shiver. Yes, she believed him. They could do anything they wanted.
The Fish-eye stared at her for a few more moments before he went to the door with the others. They left without another word, slamming the door shut behind them. Radawen got up and almost ran to the door to bolt it. But it was of no use. She could not feel safe anymore. She could never feel safe in this apartment again.
Bastards!
