”I wanted to meet him, Parthadan”, said the Steward of Gondor, Denethor II. ”Did I not make myself clear earlier?”
”Right”, Parthadan said absent-mindedly. He was staring at the empty throne on the dais behind Denethor’s plain, unadorned stone chair. He had been staring at it since he had arrived in the Tower Hall five minutes ago. ”Delioron resigned from his duties this morning.”
”I thought you told me that he would not do that”, Denethor said.
”That is what I thought. We all make mistakes, my Lord.”
”How can he leave us now, when you have finally, after all these years of harping, managed to convince me that we need him?”
”It is Gondor, the last free city of men”, Parthadan said with a bitter smile. ”At least sometimes.”
”But he needs us…”
”Not anymore, my Lord. And we have no means to stop him.”
”We never had any means to stop him”, Denethor said in a puzzled tone. He felt uncomfortable that he had to deal with this small mole-like man who never expressed himself plainly.
Parthadan was thinking about the red-bearded dwarf from Zigil-jâbal who had arrived in Minas Tirith the same morning. When Parthadan had seen Delioron talking to the dwarf he had instinctively known that he had lost the final hold he had on Delioron.
”Now you will leave me alone”, Delioron had said to Parthadan.
”Right. And what will you do with your lady friend?”
”It is none of your concern. Stay away from my life from now on”, Delioron had said coldly.
”I probably should apologize you for Amon Hen”, Parthadan had managed to squeeze out of himself.
Delioron had just stared at him with no expression, his cold eyes drilling into the pasty features of the petty bureaucrat. He had not said anything. He had walked out of the door and never said another word.
”A curious incident, what happened in Zigil-jâbal”, Denethor said, changing the subject. ”Do you think it was intentional? Did the Lord of Zigil-jâbal get rid of that pesky traitor on purpose?”
”No”, Parthadan replied. ”The traitor is dead and will get a beautiful burial ceremony, whereas the poor wretch who killed him will be executed for murder.” Parthadan grew silent and thought joylessly about the well-laid plans of men, and then some stupid nobody comes along and strips Parthadan of the last hold he had over Delioron.
Oh well, Parthadan sighed. At least it was over.
