”And who are you?” asked the man at the door suspiciously.
”Dunstan, a wandering minstrel from Rohan”, Demrîng said.
”A minstrel? Shouldn’t you be carrying some kind of a musical instrument then?”
”I don’t know, should I?”
The middle-aged man at the door hesitated. The apparition in a dark gray cloak had a round, white, child-like face and he should have appeared harmless, almost comical. But there was something about those expressionless lizard’s eyes that made him look anything but funny. Something that made him look quite insane.
It had stopped raining, but the sky was still oppressive and gray. Demrîng was in a guesthouse on the eastern side of Imloth Melui, near the Court of the Watch. The sudden influx of visitors had made new guesthouses crop up like mushrooms in the rain. The house he was visiting was one of the newer ones and Demrîng had had some difficulties finding it. Most poor people could only afford shared rooms with multiple strangers sleeping together in the same room. Luithael and her brother were no exception, but today everyone else had gone to see the Blue Wizard, so they were the only ones in the room. Which suited well for Demrîng’s purposes.
”I would like to talk to your sister”, Demrîng said. ”I am interested in what happened in the Hall of the Gentle Hand.”
”Are you now?” asked the middle-aged man with a lean, stubbled face. ”Now look, mister. Poor Luithael is pretty tired now after her ordeal and…”
”Please”, said Demrîng.
”I’m telling you how it is, and I hope you understand. Luithael needs to rest now.”
”Who is it, Sammardil?” The voice came from behind a partition. It was faint and coarse like a crusty bread.
”The man says he’s from Rohan”, Sammardil shouted over his shoulder.
”What does he want?”
”He wants you, sis, you!”
”Tell him to go away, I have a headache!”
”You heard her!”
”Please”, Demrîng said again. ”I have made a long trip to get here.”
When he had heard about the incident with the crippled woman in the Hall of the Gentle Hand, Demrîng had decided that he needed to figure out her role in this mystery. Was it just a trick, or had Romenstar really healed her crippling disfigurement with some kind of sorcery? He had decided to find it out either way before he would kill her and her brother.
Sammardil began to close the door in front of him, but Demrîng pushed it back, slowly but forcefully. He squeezed Sammardil between the door and the wall.
”Look now!” Sammardil protested. ”You are in Gondor, and I’m a Gondorian! No foreigner pushes a Gondorian like that!”
”Please sit”, Demrîng said quietly but intensely. He stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him.
”What’s the ruckus? Can’t I ever get any rest?” moaned the voice behind the partition.
”Nothing, sis, nothing”, Sammardil replied.
”Please, come over here!” said Demrîng.
”What was that? Is that man still here?”
The woman came out from behind the partition, dressed only in her chemise. She was skinny and her face was white as chalk, but her back was quite straight.
Demrîng put his hand in a pocket of his cloak and felt the vial with his fingers.
”I am Dunstan, a wandering minstrel from Rohan”, he repeated. ”I want to talk to you about what happened.”
”He just barged right in, sis…”
”Be quiet”, Demrîng said. His voice was very quiet.
Sammardil punched him in the face then. Demrîng took the blow and shook it off like it was nothing. He turned the gaze of his expressionless, empty reptile eyes upon Sammardil, who stood still, unsure what to do next. ”Be quiet!” Demrîng repeated, as if he was talking to a child.
”Sammardil!” the skinny woman snapped. ”Do as he says. This man is serious.”
”I am”, Demrîng admitted. ”You understand then. This won’t take long. I must understand what happened in the Hall of the Gentle Hand.”
Luithael trembled. Demrîng saw the fear in her eyes. Why was she afraid? Did she understand who and what he was?
”I’m just a girl from the backwoods, nothing more”, Luithael replied quickly. ”I have nothing and I never will have anything. I was a cripple and Sammardil can swear it on our mother’s grave. You can see for yourself what I am…”
”And what are you?” Demrîng asked.
”Luithael. Just Luithael, and nothing else.”
She took a step backwards, crossing her arms. Her dark eyes never left Demrîng’s gentle moon face.
”It all happened for real, I swear it on our mother”, Sammardil said. ”I don’t want to…”
”Be quiet!” Demrîng said. He looked at the woman and saw that she was trembling again, as if she could read his mind. He wondered what the Mouth of Sauron would want him to do in this situation. Nobody had ever given him instructions for a scenario like this.
”Luithael”, he said. ”Luithael.”
His fingers fiddled with the vial in his pocket. It would be very easy and very quick and they would both be dead forever. He made his decision.
Demrîng turned around, grabbed the handle and opened the door. He closed the door behind him without another word and left.
”For the love of all that’s good in this world!” Luithael sighed after he was gone.
”Sis, dear, you’re shivering all over”, Sammardil said, wrapping his arms around her. ”He won’t hurt you. I didn’t…”
”Shut up, Sammardil!” Luithael snapped. He saw that she was crying.
”Now now, sis. There’s nothing to cry about”, he said as he held his sister tight. But Luithael knew that he was wrong. There was plenty to cry about.
”I want to go back home now”, she sobbed against his shoulder.
