It was mid-morning in Minas Tirith when Torndollben arrived at the Houses of Lore. He took notice of every detail in his coolly meticulous way. The man and the woman talking by the fountain. Two more men having a conversation farther away. Nothing ever escaped Torndollben’s attention, and he never forgot anything. These qualities had proven useful for him as Lord Falaben’s retainer. Torndollben was responsible for Falaben’s dirty work, and he was very good at his job. It made him indispensable for Falaben, in spite of his low-born origins.
Torndollben had only visited the Houses of Lore twice in his lifetime, and both times only to talk to Aranuir. When he entered the hall, the first thing he noticed was a woman standing by a brazier near the great fireplace by the main entrance to the hall. She was drab and disheveled and she had big eyes and grayish pale skin. Torndollben said nothing to her. He went around the column and ascended the three steps to the dais where Aranuir was sitting behind his desk, littered with books. Torndollben was careful not to let his dark cloak touch the greasy edge of the desk.
Aranuir looked up at him.
”What the hell do you want here?” he asked.
”You know the answer”, said Torndollben. ”I want your girl.”
Aranuir stared at him, squeezing the stem of his goblet hard between his sausage-like fingers. ”You must mean Radawen. I haven’t heard anything from her.”
”But you know where she can be found.”
”The hell I do!”
”We haven’t found the diary.”
”Maybe there is no diary.”
”One of my men talked to the new chief healer of the Hall of the Gentle Hand, Brunil. She was suspicious at first, but in the end she talked.” Torndollben talked in a quiet, shrouded voice. ”She talked to us in the end. The old man gave her a book with blue covers to pass on to your girl, Radawen. She has it now and we want it. You know the way it is, don’t you?”
Aranuir’s eyes grew wide. ”She got the book? She really got it?” Aranuir’s voice sounded amazed and almost triumphant. ”Magnificent, Radawen, mag…”
”Shut up, fat man!” Torndollben sneered. ”You warned her, didn’t you? Now you are screwed, fat man, you and your son too.”
”What have you done to her?”
”We can do a lot worse to her you can even imagine. But all we want is the diary. She has no value to us.”
”You killed Romenstar”, Aranuir said. ”You killed...”
”We killed no-one.”
”I have heard the news. Somebody attacked the old man, stabbed him in the…”
”It’s not healthy for you to concern yourself with these matters”, Torndollben interrupted.
Aranuir felt chilled to the core.
”You should have told us from the start, Aranuir”, Torndollben continued. ”You should have told us that your girl went to Imloth Melui after Romenstar. It would have spared us a whole lot of trouble.”
”I didn’t know of Falaben’s involvement at the…”
”Who has told you anything of the sort? Did I mention Falaben at all? I don’t ever want you to mention his name again.”
Aranuir thought about Radawen and was wracked with despair. He understood now that they would never stop, never, until Radawen was dead. They had no other option.
”Where is her home?” Torndollben asked.
”I don’t know. You know her apartment here in Minas Tirith, it’s just around…”
”Quit wasting my time, Aranuir. She lived in the scholar’s dormitory, so she must have come from somewhere else. So where is she from?”
”I won’t tell you.”
”But you must, as you well know. Quit stalling!”
”I will not help you kill her.”
”We’re not going to kill anyone.”
”Liar!” Aranuir hissed. ”You dirty liar, you scum! Get out of here!”
”Are you forgetting your son now? Your son in Ethir Anduin? Did you forget the crime he committed against my lord? He has a whole life ahead of him. Have you forgotten your granddaughters? What would become of them if their father was executed as a common criminal?”
”Who are you to talk about them?”
”Your son would be executed. My lord is a very powerful man, I can assure you. Your son’s crime will only be forgiven for as long as my lord wills it. He will be put to death if you don’t cooperate.”
”But it has nothing to do with Radawen.” Aranuir’s voice broke down with despair. ”You will kill her!”
”We will not”, Torndollben said solemnly. ”I swear it upon my honor.”
”Yes, you swear it”, Aranuir said dully, looking at his greasy fingers resting on the desk. ”You swear it upon the honor of an assassin.”
He remembered Radawen the way she had been the first day he had seen her. He remembered how nervous and afraid she had been, but already so vigorous, so smart and so full of life. Radawen had always possessed a kind of rare self-confidence. She had always known what she was capable of.
Aranuir said nothing. He had loved Radawen and he had never told it to her. And now he would have to betray her.
”Please don’t”, he said, as if there was a way to end the nightmare somehow.
The man in a dark cloak waited patiently.
