The discussion was interrupted by a sound of footsteps approaching from the direction of the cave entrance. Tarîkbên clutched his fingers around the hilt of his sword and glanced at Delioron, looking alarmed.
”Who is it?” he hissed from between his teeth. ”Who’s coming? If this is some kind of a trap…”
Two figures stepped into the dim sphere of campfire light. Delioron recognized the comers. They were Radawen and the Guard-Captain from Walstow, Egelferth.
”What is this?” Tarîkbên said. His eyes darted between Delioron, Egelferth and Radawen. ”Who are these people? How did you know how to come here?”
Egelferth kept his steely gaze focused on Delioron. ”You did not think I would just go home after our little chat yesterday, did you?” he asked sardonically. ”I knew something was up, so I went to investigate. I know this area like my own pockets. I found the dead dwarf, killed exactly the same way as poor Mildrith. Killed by an orc. I hid in a place where I could keep an eye on Parth Galen without detection and spent the night there. Next morning I saw this man and the old dwarf”, Egelferth nodded towards Tarîkbên and Thráin, ”crossing the lake on a rowing boat. I followed them to the cave. Then I went back to my hiding place to wait. Much later in the day I saw the man in black heading towards Amon Hen, so I followed him again to the glade with the flat stone. Later I saw you, Delirion or whatever your name is, coming to meet the man in black and then heading to the road to the cave together. Something made me want to stay where I was, waiting to see what would happen next.”
Egelferth spat on the floor of the cave. ”I am glad that I stayed, for I did not have to wait long before I saw an orc passing by, heading up to Amon Hen. I followed the orc and killed it atop the ruins just as it was going to kill this woman – your woman, I presume – exactly the same way it had killed Mildrith and the dwarf. Then we came here. I saved her life, so I think you owe me at least an explanation now.”
”Orcs?” Tarîkbên said. ”I told you Sauron’s servants are after us, did I not? They are already here! We have to leave, right now!”
”Fair enough”, Delioron replied to Egelferth. ”But first, let us invite one more guest to the campfire. Somebody has been eavesdropping us for a while now. Come out of the shadows, whoever you are!”
Heads turned towards the entrance of the cave as a short, stocky figure holding a battleaxe stepped into the light.
”It’s him!” Radawen said. ”The dwarf that kidnapped me!”
”I am very sorry that I had to do that to you, miss Radawen”, the dwarf said in a grotesquely polite manner.
”Let us all sit down around the campfire”, Delioron said. ”I need to talk to you. All of you. I think I am finally beginning to understand the nature of the trap.”
”What do you mean by that, messenger?” Tarîkbên’s eyes grew wide with anger.
”Sit down, Tarîkbên. Over there by the campfire!”
”We have to leave. Sauron’s servants are…”
”Sit!”
Delioron took a step towards Tarîkbên when he saw his hand move. He slapped the Black Númenórean on the cheek, hard. The blow caused a stream of blood to flow from the corner of his mouth. The Black Númenórean took a step back and Delioron shoved him. Tarîkbên lost his balance and fell down on the ground.
Delioron bent down and reached out for the hilt of Tarîkbên’s sword. He smiled and threw the sword in the darkness. It clattered on the floor of the cave.
”Sauron’s servants are going to kill us all!” Tarîkbên said, raising his voice.
”Perhaps”, Delioron said.
”Messenger, you have no authority.”
Delioron unsheathed his own sword and pressed its tip against Tarîkbên’s throat.
”You are a dead man, Black Númenórean.” Delioron’s each word dropped slowly, like stones thrown into a quiet pond. ”You have been lying from the beginning.”
Tarîkbên did not talk. His eyes stared fiercely at the grey-haired, grey-skinned man standing above him.
”It was a trap. Do you hear me, Black Númenórean?”
”I helped Thráin escape from Mordor. How could it be a trap?”
”You were supposed to become Sauron’s voice whispering in Denethor’s ear. At first your advice would have been genuinely helpful for Gondor. After a time, once you had proved your usefulness to the Steward – indeed, made yourself irreplaceable to him – your counsel would have turned gradually more malicious. In the end you would have filled his head with advice that was only beneficial to your master in Mordor, leading Gondor to ruin.”
”That is not true!”
”Sauron plays a clumsy game because he relies on creatures like orcs who cannot be relied upon”, Delioron continued just as slowly. ”Just like this time. Murder after murder and it was all wrong, all a big mess with no rhyme or reason. And now, today a dirty little orc decides to kill Radawen for no sane reason I can think of other than being an orc and therefore a blood-thirsty idiot. But it makes me angry because she had no part in this game to begin with. She was not part of it but you made her a part of it and now she must play it just like the rest of us. Do you see now, Black Númenórean, why you can consider yourself already dead?”
Sweat pearled on Tarîkbên’s glowing face. ”You cannot kill me. I come from Mordor, I can tell you things…”
”Tell me!”
”You have to promise me a sanctuary…”
”The time of promises is over. Tell me things!”
”You are hurting me with your sword…”
”Not for long. Soon I will chop your head off.”
The winter had descended upon Delioron’s face. It was mere frost and ice. His eyes were like fields of ice in Forochel. His weathered face exuded the dread of winter’s white sky.
No one moved in a while.
”I know the story of the dwarf”, Târikbên attempted.
”Tell me!”
”I cannot. I need insurance.”
”The only insurance I will give you is that you are already dead, Black Númenórean. I have grown bored of you.”
”What can I tell you?”
”The truth.”
”I…”
”Tell me about Zigil-jâbal! Tell me about the dwarves!”
”I do not know what you are talking about.”
”I am talking about a traitor”, Delioron said softly. Deli’s eyes grew with interest.
”A traitor?”
”Stop parroting me! Tell me something I don’t know. The only thing I don’t understand. Tell me about Zigil-jâbal. What are all the dwarves doing here at Amon Hen? I can somehow get it if I can believe there is a traitor in Zigil-jâbal.”
”I do not know anything about a traitor or Zigil-jâbal.”
”That is a lie. There has to be one. Who is it?”
Tarîkbên did not reply, but Deli blurted out a name in astonished voice: ”Glunri!”
”And who is Glunri?”
”Glunri, the chief advisor of Lord Naíf of Zigil-jâbal”, Deli said in a puzzled tone. ”He sent his own son here. He sent Flogi here to make sure I and Kimrin never return to Zigil-jâbal. He sent him here to kill us!”
”Thráin was the important link, was he not, Black Númenórean?”
Tarîkbên merely stared at the blade of Delioron’s sword and did not reply.
”What were you?”
”Nobody important”, Tarîkbên said.
”Thráin was not the bait. You were the bait. Thráin’s function was to make the trap work.”
”That’s right.”
”And then you were supposed to kill him on our way to Minas Tirith. Or your pet orc was supposed to kill him. To make sure we heard his story, but not risking anyone in Minas Tirith asking him too many questions, or any dwarf who was actually involved in the War of the Dwarves and Orcs to see him and understand that he is not Thráin at all! And then I and Radawen were supposed to bring you to Minas Tirith, a nice little present from Mordor, ready to fill Denethor’s ears with more lies.”
Tarîkbên shrugged. A trace of a smile had returned upon his arrogant face. The sword in Delioron’s hand did not scare him anymore.
”Who is Glunri?” Delioron asked Deli again.
Tarîkbên made a sudden movement towards his sword. Delioron was waiting for it, like a cat waits for a mouse to dart across the floor. He swung his sword in a high arc and slashed open Tarîkbên’s cheek. He slumped back on the floor, pressing a hand against his bleeding cheek.
”Stay where you are, Black Númenórean”, Delioron said. ”Glunri. Do you understand now, dwarf?”
”I do”, Deli replied. ”Not all, but enough.”
”And now we are going to deal with the Black Númenórean.”
”What are you going to do?” Tarîkbên asked.
”You cannot just kill him in cold blood!” Radawen protested.
”Should I send him back to Mordor then?” Delioron asked. ”It would not be very merciful in comparison. Sauron does not suffer failures.”
Tarîkbên did not speak. He understood how few his options were: in fact he had no options left at all. The trap had been handled clumsily and now it had sprung around him.
Delioron smiled. ”Perhaps we don’t need to do either. You wanted to see Minas Tirith, Black Númenórean – all right, you will see Minas Tirith. Take a good look around once you get inside its walls. It will be the last time you will ever see the sun again.”
”Now can please someone explain me what is going on already?” Egelferth demanded.
”Of course”, Delioron said. ”Help me tie up our visitor from Mordor and I will tell you all about it. It is quite a story, full of spies and orcs and mistakes. You killed Mildrith’s murderer today, but this man is to blame for her death. It’s a long story and you may not be able to understand all of it, but we have plenty of time now and no reason to keep secrets anymore.”
