(Continued from "A Finch's Beginnings: A Child With No Name - Part the First")
Strangely enough, Bên found that the sight of the great, wooden bridge in the distance was enough to cause his gut to churn and his heart to beat like a caged bird within his chest. Thus, he did not enter the town of Trestlebridge until nightfall when it was too dark to see well. He slipped past the town guard easily, his talent for shrinking away so as to go unnoticed aiding him. He did not stop to rest there. Though this was a home for free peoples, how could he trust any of them? He had never met a single free person in his entire life; at least, that he could remember. And he could hear Averill's words to him like a warning in his heart:
"Do not stop for anything, Bên. Do not stop until you have delivered her to what safety we can hope for. Once they realize that she is not to be found in Angmar they will come further south looking for you."
Descending from the hills of the Downs, he made his way over the sloping valleys and woods of lush, green Breeland, skirting past farms and following the path Averill had set out for him.
"Keep on until you see a village surrounded by trees with a house upon the top of a hill, set away from the others. They say she lives there."
All was quiet in the dead of night when he came to the doorstep. Lantern and firelight could be seen from within and yet Bên found himself hesitant to knock. He pulled his daughter from her swaddle and held her in his arms for a moment.
He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to let go of her. Why should he? He was her father and she was his daughter. He had missed out on the entire first year of her life, though he was certain he would have not been able to bear the horrors of Carn Dûm as she and Averill had. Why could he not take her with him to some far away place?
But, he knew he couldn't. Whatever had been done to her in Carn Dûm, though it did not diminish the light within her any, the darkness would never leave her alone so long as he carried her with him. And what sort of protection cause he give her in the end? He could barely look another man in the eye for too long without flinching away. In the end, he was still just a slave. There was nothing more he could do. Here his task would be done. He could go anywhere he liked afterwards. But why was it suddenly so hard?
Suddenly, he heard the snapping of a twig behind him and a string of shrilly-yelled curse words. An older woman waving a stick at him, calling him a thief and threatening to set someone's dogs on him.
His decision was made for him. He set the child down quickly upon the doorstep and bolted away, ignoring the way hot tears stung at his eyes as he ran through the trees. It was done. His daughter was safe for now, just as Averill had wanted. Her fate was in another's hands now. He would likely never see her again; this daughter of his that Averill refused to give a name to.
Further into Breeland he ran until he could no longer hear that shrill woman or see the village he had just left behind. He climbed higher into the hills, stepping over grass and trees he had only heard about in half-stories told by deranged prisoners in Angmar. He climbed until, down below on the other side of a hill, he could see a lake that reflected the light of the stars above him, even as they began to fade away with the sun coming up in the far distance. Bên had no place to go and no burdens upon him any longer. Is this what it meant to be a free man?
He heard a whistle-like sound in the air.
The fading stars within the water were the last things he knew as he slumped over and eventually fell into the grass, the shaft of an iron-wrought arrow protruding from his skull...
"Where is she?!"
A woman, ragged and bloodied was thrown to the ground before her captor. But, instead of cries of pain she instead gave him harsh, wheezing laughter, the laughter of one who was still not yet beaten down to nothing. She stared up at him, grinning like one gone mad, green eyes burning with fire that could not be quenched.
Erach of the Guild of the Unsealed glared at her, this precious tool of his turned into a constant thorn in his side. It infuriated him that, even now, she refused to grovel before him. She refused to give him his victory. No amount of manipulation could ever sway her. No amount of despair could ever make her submit. All these long years and Averill still retained her name and her pride. She was making a mockery of him!
He grabbed her by the hair and lifted her to his level, making the woman wince weakly. She was nearly spent. But he could not let her win here.
"Where is she, hmm? Where did you send my little gift? Where is my Zîrânaphêl?"
Averill laughed again and spat in his face.
"I don't know anyone by that name."
Erach saw red and shook her, her very bones seeming to rattle with the movement.
"I did not take the pains of bringing you back here alive instead of letting them kill you like a dog just like the rest... Now, tell me, chattel, where is the child? Where did you tell that insipid, poor excuse of a man to leave her?"
Averill took a moment to get her bearings, breath coming in and out of her lungs wetly. She smiled serenely and closed her eyes.
"You may search for a decade or more. You will dig and search and you will never ever find her."
In an instant, Averill felt herself moving through the air, angry roars and curses echoing in her ears. It is a bit like flying, she thought to herself before gravity caught up with her. Down, down she fell. She opened her eyes to see the rage-filled face of Erach above her getting further and further away. The darkness rose up on either side of her as she plummeted further towards what she knew would be her death.
And yet, she felt more at peace than she ever had been in all these years since she was brought to this horrible place. She never did get to see the green farmlands of Bree-land again. And her child, her precious daughter would likely never know her or Bên.
Oh, but, I wish with all my heart that she will know how loved she is, thought Averill as she closed her eyes.
In the end, she had won. In the end, she was free...
fin.
