After dinner that evening we sat in the main room, candles giving a flickering golden ambiance to the walls, and spoke of our trip to Forlond.
“It is a shame the sky-carridges* were not working. To ride on one would recall some fine memories.” Estarfin took up his glass of wine and stretched out his long legs in contentment.
“Fine memories, meldanya? Do you speak of our ascents to two of the Hill Forts?” I said as I finished my poached crab apples.
Estarfin nodded, then looked at me. “I rode in those armoured carriages we had a few times. Sometimes it was helping deliver armaments and supplies. I was not stationed in the Mountains. The views from those forts were wonderful though.”
“Unless there were orcs approaching?”
He raised his glass.”Better to see orcs approaching than not to see them approaching.”
I smiled at him. He was no cavalry soldier, though he rode well. Neither was he a master of the bow, though his shots rarely missed. Estarfin liked best to fight with his feet firmly on the ground, and a spear in his hand. He was not first choice for Hill Fort duty.
“Forlond had those sky-carriages soon after it was built. The Harbour is, of course, on the sea level, but there were always some homes, and farms atop them, as you saw this day. That land can be quite boggy in places, but also there are areas where animals can be grazed, and hardier crops grown. The wind from the sea can be quite a problem. You saw the Star Tower. Not like Elostirion, it holds no Palantir, but it does give a far reaching view of Tintallie’s glory. We should climb that tower when we go again.”
Estarfin drank more of his wine. He looked a little less content, which suggested to me he had been struggling with our visit earlier that day.
“When we go again?” he replied. “It simply surprised me to see useful features not being used. They looked as if they had been derelict for some time.”
I noted his impression on visiting again. He was far more important than any visit. We would not go again to Forlond. I made myself more comfortable, adjusting my skirts around me and placing my feet on a low stool. “They need repairing. The last of the families who oversaw them sailed when I was here oh, around seven years ago? Because the earthen ramps can still be used to transport goods, there has been no rush. Nor has anyone stepped forward, even though the work on them cannot be too taxing.”
Estarfin looked up.
“Were you completely unaffected by the sea, I would encourage you. But you know as well as I, you are better a little distance away.”
He sighed, and took up his wine again. “Why does no one repair them? They cannot all be fisherfolk or scholars.”
“Indeed they are not. Shortage of experts affects many professions. Yet they manage as best they can.”
But my mind was wandering, from the useless sky carriages in Forlond, to the Hill-Forts of Thargelion and to the friends and family I had lost. Only the knowledge that the would-be soldier of those times now sat by my side kept my mood light.
The rest of that week, and the following two settled into a mixture of walking, riding, swimming (when the water was warm enough), and visiting with a few local smiths, to view and discuss their work. Estarfin was always interested in other smith’s skills, though mostly to help. I felt at peace in a good forge, and was keen on what I could learn.For my part I also spent more than a few hours going through my Grandmother's remaining books and scrolls, searching for the information I required on Celebrimbor. There were a few useful pages concerning his earlier works, but not many. Then again, my grandmother was not a Jewel-smith.
Towards the end of the third week, we had an unexpected, but welcome, visitor.
I had been walking along the sands at the sea’s edge, sometimes wading out a short distance, but mostly within a close distance to the beach. It was yet another fine, quiet day, with blue skies and a few fluffy white clouds drifting slowly east. It was Estarfin’s turn to cook that night, though he had not told us what he was planning. Parnard had been with me, but then wandered away, searching for more shells on the beach. He had found a goodly collection of sea shells he thought suitable to be made into jewellery, and was looking for more “gifts of the tide”. I would begin work on this as soon as we returned to Númenstáya.
Then I heard a rider approach. I turned to look up to the road. The only one who visited us every few days was Celethon, from the nearby Inn. He often checked on our need for supplies. It was not him, however.
The rider dismounted, and having seen me, headed over to the incline and the sand. She waved.
“Earcalië! What a surprise. It is so good to see you again.” I hurried to greet her as fast as walking on sand allowed.”Well met, indeed.”
“I was heading for home,” she began to explain, “but caught some talk that you, Estarfin and Parnard were in the area. I could not let that pass without my greetings. How are you all? Are you here for long?”
I bid her come over to sit with me on a nearby rock. Earcalië’s horse turned to the grassy verge, and began grazing.
“There is no rush on my part. Let us catch up with each other, and then go to my family house for wine and something to eat?”
She smiled; her expression was one eager for news.
“To answer your questions first. We are all well. We three are taking a short break from Númenstáya, a month is our intent. Then we return to pick up on the work we need to finish there.”
“And the others? Have you seen Hingalas again?” She laughed, for she had played a trick concerning a special sea weed on the sea bed on the unsuspecting rope maker during her last visit to us.
“I have not seen Hingalas, but Estarfin and I overheard local conversation concerning an improved type of rope being used in Mithlond. I cannot say for certain, but I suspect Hingalas has something to do with it.”
Earcalië made herself comfortable, laying her sword beside her and loosening her outer jacket. “I would be pleased if something good had come from my ‘suggestions’. Anyone new at your home?”
I had to think a moment regarding the last time the young Nolde had visited. That turned my thoughts to another young Nolde and her friend.
“I think you know most of our small number. We have two younger maids with us now. Marawendi was brought from the Greenwood, chosen by Parnard to be my apprentice. I have not had time yet to teach her much of jewel-smithy, but she is a promising cook. She is just one hundred and twenty years old.”
Earcalië looked surprised. “Eh? That is younger than me. But as long as she does not call me ‘old’ we should get along fine. Maybe?”
“Marawendi is of a gentle nature. She is most unlikely to offer you any insult. Although ‘old’ is very much a relative term. We also have Fearanië, another Nolde.” I shrugged. What could I say?
“The name gives it away,” my visitor smirked.
“She comes from Forlindon. It is possible you will recognise her? She is but fifty years of age.”
“For once I will not be the child!”
“Quite so. There are so few children born these days. You are each a precious rarity. It is a heavy burden you all bear.” It was my turn to smile. In truth, our children were very few. With folk seeking to sail, and concern over what may be transpiring in the East, who would be willing to bring a new life into Endor? Was I not personally aware of the issue?
“You may find Fearanië a more relatable companion. She is indeed young and inexperienced. But she is keen of mind and swift to learn. She dreams of adventures, of the old glories of our folk. Long passed, yes, but she will be as noble a Nolde as she can. Her parents trust Estarfin and I with her ongoing education. Lore and smithing, and a thorough ability to defend herself at need.”
“Estarfin, how is he?” Earcalië asked with bright curiosity.
I chuckled. “He is well. He is rested now. In fact he is making this evening’s dinner, if you would care to stay?”
Earcalië turned to look up the hill at the house, which was only partly visible from our location.
“It was my grandmother’s house, and has lain empty these past few years,” I explained further. “I hope to restore it somewhat over time. Not that we will dwell permanently here. Parnard helps out with many suggestions, but Estarfin is more interested in building fortifications.”
Earcalië looked surprised. She rose to her feet to take a better view. “I don’t think turning that house into a fortress would suit…but–,”
“Oh, not this one,” I swiftly clarified the issue. “Estarfin is turning Númenstáya into more of a fortress. There is so much to do, and we are few in number. But we shall prevail. After recent years he is concerned for our safety. In fact the Dwarf stonemasons were building the walls when last we met.”
“I remember a lot of rubble,” Earcalië replied.
“The Dwarves have been gone awhile, but we have not finished yet.”
We both walked up the bank to the path, and across that to the house itself. I waved at the view we had of the Gulf and the sea lanes. Earcalië nodded, though that view would have been a common sight to her, dwelling nearby as she did.
I swung open the main doors to reveal the plain blue painted walls of the entrance hall. “The house has been cleaned from top to bottom, and some items have been removed to the library, or scholars enclave. But it needs much attention.”
Earcalië glanced around in a non-judgemental way.
We passed into the hallway. “There are spare rooms here. Parnard is using one at present. You must feel free to use them if you are ever in the area and want a rest?”
“Thank you.” She grinned. I wondered if she was considering a redecoration of her own? Kind though she was, Earcalië was not beyond playing a trick or two.
And the stillness of the house suddenly alerted me. “Estarfin?” I called out. “We have a guest!"
There was no answer. No sound of anyone moving in the kitchen or store room.
“Estarfin?”
He was not there. And of course another important matter that I should have already mentioned came to mind.
“Earcalië, do you know?” I asked, turning to face her.
“Know what?”
“That Estarfin and I are married. This Midsummer it was. That is why we are here, to have some quiet time together.”
The young nis inhaled deeply, then threw her arms in the air. “No, I did not know!” she cried out. “And had I not halted here on my travels, I would still not know.”
Sky Carridges - Lifts
