A man who did not exist trudged along the sandy uphill path until he reached the crest of the ridge, where the scent of salt met the sweet bloom of spring wildflowers and revealed his hidden timber cottage, hidden against the gray cliffs. The cottage stood upon a low, windswept ridge where the rocky cliffs of Emyn Terch begin to slope gently toward the shore.
Melgobas stood peacefully at the water’s edge, a small haven of weathered huts where the rushing streams of the northern hills finally met the slow swell of the ocean beneath the pale blue of the spring sky. A warm, salt-laden breeze swept over the timber docks, carrying the wild clamor of nesting gulls far up into the greening valleys. They could have been on the edge of the world.
He turned the key in the lock, which was unnecessary – there were no thieves or burglars in Melgobas – and opened the door.
The window opposite the door was large and faced the Bay of Belfalas.
He had been brought to Melgobas aboard the Aeartur under a false name, disguised as an injured mariner who had survived a brutal Corsair raid and wished only for a quiet life away from the sea. The tale had won him the sympathy of the villagers, who had also suffered much from Corsair raids. The cottage had belonged to an elderly Melgobas fisherman who, along with his eldest son, had been captured by the Corsairs of Umbar a year earlier. The thatched hut had sat abandoned ever since, slowly falling into disrepair as the salt wind rotted the timber porch and the thatch thinned out. The villagers had considered it a cursed reminder of their missing kin, and no one had wanted to live there. He had offered his labour in exchange for shelter. He had worked for the northern logging camp and Sadrech’s camp, guarding the woodcutters from bog-lurkers and helping the hunters track game. In return he had been allowed to claim the abandoned ridge-top cottage.
Delioron set down a heavy basket laden with fresh fish, grain and dried meat. He had fetched them from the timber docks and the market gathered about the village well. The climb back to the cottage was long and steep upon the sandy hillside, but the journey always pleased him. He enjoyed breathing in the fresh sea air while walking in the bright spring sunlight in the middle of the day.
On the first night after her arrival Radawen had asked him:
”Why did Demrîng say you were dead?”
”He was not supposed to tell you that. I suppose it was his way of getting even for the three years in Ost Norhír. You can never be sure of Demrîng. Lying is a second nature to him. At least he kept his word and got you to Minas Tirith safely.”
”Are you trying to tell me lying is not your second nature as well?”
”Dead men don’t lie”, he had told her.
”Bah! I don’t believe in ghosts. And Parthadan knows you are not dead. Demrîng told him.”
”There’s one.”
”And Demrîng. Why did he not kill you?”
”Because I gave him Fangnir.”
”I don’t understand.”
”Fangnir. He begged me to spare his life. I agreed to let him live, on my terms. Demrîng knows the truth about Fangnir, and so does Parthadan now. They will protect him, but in exchange they own him. I suppose Demrîng now holds a share in the mighty merchant vessel Aeartur.”
”What are they going to do with it? Deal in slaves?”
”Not that”, Delioron said quietly. ”That matter is ended. I am sure Parthadan can find uses for them both. In truth, I have no wish to know.”
”But that is not all!”
Silence.
”No, there had to be something more to it”, Radawen pushed.
”More? That it so.” Delioron fell silent for a time and gazed beyond her. ”Demrîng did not really want to kill me. He is lost in a world that does not want him, all alone. From his earliest years he was fashioned into a weapon for Sauron, yet Sauron has abandoned him. He has no friends, no family. I was his enemy, yet I am the closest he has to a friend, for we have known each other long. He did not wish to kill me, but he would have done so, for I had imprisoned him for three years. Unless I could give him some means to keep his pride. So I gave him Fangnir, and that was enough.”
”It does not seem right that Fangnir should walk free and go about his business as though nothing had happened after what he did.”
”I would not count on that”, Delioron said. ”Demrîng is a snake, and he does not suffer partners for long. It will go ill for Fangnir. He is not smart enough or cunning enough to deal with one like Demrîng.”
”What happened to Tilyh and the boy?”
”After we had sunk the Corsair vessel, we sailed to River Harnen and brought them back to the village from which they were taken. They now have a chance to begin anew and find happiness in their home, where they belong. Then we sailed back, and Fangnir put me ashore here. I sent a letter to you as soon as I was able. I gave it to a travelling merchant bound for Dol Amroth.”
”What made you think I would just leave everything behind and come here to live with you?”
”You told me so, remember? This may not be a deserted island, but we are safe here.”
”You are so sure of me.”
”I am. Everyone is dead, Radawen. You and me. This is the afterlife. Our Valinor, our Halls of Mandos.”
Radawen had held him in her arms, and he was no longer tense. And he was no longer troubled by dark dreams either. It was truly good to be dead.
They felt so strangely free that they scarcely knew what to make of it. The feeling was delicate and uncertain, and they trod lightly around it.
Today Radawen was waiting for him in their cottage.
”I brought the food.”
”Good. Look at the sea! The great gulls have returned!”
”Summer is coming”, Delioron replied and wrapped his arms around Radawen. ”And now we can finally see it together.”
