The Kinstrife

Part 63

In which our heroes practise their Quenya and learn the meaning of the instrumental case before taking leave of Forlindaal and his verdant valley; they defeat the fearsome Razarac, with only minimal injuries; they enter Fuinur’s Well and find it to be much more wholesome than they had hitherto supposed; they learn to breathe underwater; they finally meet Fuinur and discover the Karma of Aldarion is a fake; Ilviren talks to her great-great-grandfather in his sleep; Fuinur expresses contrition for his pride and reveals the true Karma of Aldarion.

 

December 5th 1442 – continued

Ilviren hands back the fey blade, saying she thinks I’m more likely to use it effectively but I wonder if there’s something about it that puts her off. Its name is Sucil Serkëva, which means ‘Drinker of Blood’ in Quenya and it is doubtless one of the darker works of the Elven craftsmen of Beleriand in the 1st Age. However she takes the shield, Turma Serkëva (Shield of Blood), which is equally dark, so perhaps it’s just me. Brand and I offer a few pointers on shield use, which is something she’s not used to using on board ship.

 

Sern’s lockpicks have a name too, Látarolínen, ‘The Openers’. The fluid in Aerin’s vial is an example of mírunen envinyata, a ‘Cordial of Healing’.

 

Finally Pimm is given a pen, of mithril, if I’m any judge, called Tecil Isilmenen – ‘Writer by means of Moonlight’. By such instruments the Elves wrote those legendary words that can only be seen by moonlight of the particular phase of the Moon by which they are written. I see his face lights up and I suspect he’s thinking up all sorts of uses never envisaged by the Noldorin craftsmen of yore – contracts that change wording with the phase of the Moon?

 

I’m not sure what exactly Brand’s gift was but it involved looking in a ‘Mirror of Learning’ (Hyellenen Yéta Ingolëssë in Quenya – literally ‘glass looking instrument of magical lore within’) but I assume it involves sorceries.

 

I thank Forlindaal for these magnificent gifts but unfortunately the wind predictor advises us to wait another couple of days. We spend the time in a trek to the top of the Tower – magnificent view! – while Forlindaal does some more research.

 

December 7th 1442

Over our evening meal, Forlindaal reveals that the Razarac was originally a minor servant of Morgoth set beneath the fallen Lamp of Ormal to prevent access to the waters beneath. It has 8 arms and is a fearsome thing but its weak spot is its heart, which appears as a glowing jewel on its chest. Forlindaal believes we will have to pass through the Well to reach Ormal, where we can dispose of the Kuilëondo.

 

December 8th 1442

Regretfully leaving the comforts of Forlindaal’s Tower we follow his directions and, after refilling our water-barrels from the lake, climb out of the valley on the north-east wall and head north. According to the wind predictor we have plenty of time, at least 6 weeks, before the next dust storm blows in and it should only take us 7-10 days to reach Fuinur’s Well. The going is hard but we adjust to the arduous routine of desert travel by night and sheltering from the Sun by day.

 

December 15th 1442

As we march this night we see a glow on the northern horizon – like a permanent dawn only not as bright! We’re nearly there, now!

 

Seeing this, Sern raises a potentially vital point – if Ormal is like the Sun, won’t we need eye-protection to avoid being blinded? We hadn’t thought of this – so much for ‘cunning’ – but luckily Aerin believes she can steep some cloths in a herbal salve to bind over our eyes.

 

December 16th 1442

The northern glow gets brighter. Soon we see radiant light and bright flames rising from cracks in the stone of the plain. It looks fearsome.

 

But then, two hours before dawn, we spy a squat building, silhouetted against the flames. It looks too low and small to be of consequence but we hurry forward to investigate.

 

But then, again in silhouette, we see something emerge from behind the building, still a quarter-mile away. With the heat haze it’s hard to be sure but it has many more arms than anything natural and something glows red on its chest – the Razarac!

 

Despite the reports Brand uncovered in Tûl Póac, the thing is wingless, but still it moves with terrifying speed. We hurriedly ready our weapons with Aerin and Pimm loosing arrows while Brand starts chanting words of power. So suddenly does it come on us that our archers loose but one arrow each and then we are defending ourselves. I have barely time to blood Sucil Serkëva.

 

Ilviren and I bear the brunt of its physical assault but, as it arrives, from its mouth gushes fire that envelops Brand. I am dimly aware of Sern slipping surreptitiously to its rear as we trade blows with the thing.

 

I want to reach its glowing heart but the thing is 15 feet tall and the heart is just out of reach above our heads but in clear view of our archers who continue to shoot over our heads. Ilviren and I find our blows are ringing on flesh like stone. Sucil Serkëva seems to have no impact so my blooding was in vain.

 

Sern stabs the thing from behind but finds his blade also rings on thews of stone. Then he, Ilviren and I are mainly engaging its attention while Aerin and Pimm seek the heart with their arrows.

 

Aerin sends an arrow in to the heart that makes the thing roar and flail its limbs – so it can feel pain! That gives us courage to renew our attacks but both Ilviren and I are battered and bruised by glancing blows from its claws. Then it breathes again, this time on Sern, and I fear the plucky thief has been seared, but his dragon hide cloak wards the flames.

 

Then Pimm sends a second arrow into its heart and with a fell scream it falls over backward. A loud crack announces the shattering of its leg, since Brand had just that moment fused it to the ground with a spell.

 

We are victorious but Brand, Ilviren, Sern and I are all hurt, albeit superficially. Aerin’s salve heals Brand’s burns well but her ministrations achieve little for the rest of us. I am left wondering if the fell beast carried some dweomer to prevent healing of wounds it inflicts.

 

Brand investigates the building – it’s a small one-story affair whose single chamber serves as a cover for a perfectly masoned set of stairs descending in to darkness.

 

Returning to the Razarac, I find Aerin has already cut out its heart, which is cooling quickly. It is not a jewel but actually a monstrous heart. Aerin believes it may have medicinal uses and intends to show it to Forlindaal on our return.

 

December 17th 1442

Fearsome though it was, I feel worse may await us below so we decide to rest a day and recover from our wounds so we can enter as fresh as possible.

 

December 18th 1442

We rise to find the stiffness of our wounds has passed. Leaving Al-Han to care for the mule in the surface building, Brand sets a light on his staff and leads the way down the stair.

 

It descends some 200 steps to a large, pillared chamber, at the far end of which more steps descend in to a pool of dark water. On the wall over the pool is a depiction of the Karma of Aldarion – a curious looking item.

 

At the top of the steps is a small leather pouch which Sern investigates. He discovers it contains a number of small pieces of Desert Amber. Brand tries a Divination spell on them but learns nothing of value.

 

Ilviren stoops to taste the water and pronounces it ‘wholesome’. Aerin suggests it may be a ‘fountain of youth’ – Fuinur was seeking immortality, after all.

 

Ilviren dives in to the water and quickly finds an opening 20 feet below the surface. This is of little help as the rest of us cannot swim but Aerin, continuing her theory of the ‘fountain of youth’, suggests that we may be able to breath under the water!

 

This is an intriguing idea but testing the hypothesis will be foolhardy. However Sern takes her at her word, kneels down on the steps and puts his head in the water. With commendable willpower he forces himself to breath in the water and immediately flails about before falling limp.

 

Horrified, we pull him from the water and Aerin starts pumping his chest. Thankfully water gouts from his mouth and he awakes, surprisingly none-the-worst for his dangerous exploit. I cannot believe that we let him do that!

 

Ilviren decides to explore further and vanishes beneath the waters again. By the light of Brand’s staff we see her pass through the passage below and vanish from sight. We wait for her return…

 

…After three minutes I am getting anxious. It feels as if Ilviren may have had an accident. None of the rest of us can swim but I feel it is my responsibility to try to retrieve her body at the least. I strip off my upper clothing and Sern ties a rope around my waist. I enter the water by the steps, carrying two rocks to weigh me down. Can I find Ilviren before running out of breath? I am aware of Sern following me in. I’m not sure of the wisdom of this but, underwater, have no way of ordering him back.

 

As I approach the archway I am overjoyed to see Ilviren emerge from it, apparently whole and hearty. I’m nowhere near the end of my breath and, knowing that I can return to the surface in a second, I move forward to greet her.

 

But as I get closer, I see her gesturing to her mouth – she is breathing! She is breathing the water! Aerin is right after all!

 

A bubble escapes my lips and Ilviren nods encouragement so I breathe out the lungful of air and, with a prayer to Uinen, take in a lungful of water…immediately I feel as if I’m drowning…then I black out.

 

I have no knowledge of what happened then but I understand there was considerable confusion. I come too to find Brand thrashing about in the water, evidently in the throes of drowning. I try to make my way to him but it seems Ilviren is in a tug of war with someone still above holding the rope tied round my waist. I simply cut the rope but by the time I reach Brand he’s sinking to the floor of the pool, unconscious. It seems all of us must go through a swoon before we awake so I leave him be.

 

With Brand’s swoon his light goes out but somehow I find there’s still light to see by. I find Sern has come round and is examining the pouch with interest. Something inside it is glowing. He produces a piece of Desert Amber glowing and there are enough pieces for all of us to see by.

 

Aerin now enters the water and sets an example to us all by entering the swoon without the inelegant thrashing about, but Pimm takes some considerable persuasion to enter the water.

 

Of course we can’t talk but after a few minutes I find I can hear the others thinking! It seems the water conveys thoughts between us. I immediately exercise some willpower to prevent my thoughts polluting the waters needlessly. I think most of us do the same but Ilviren, of course, suffers from mental diarrhoea, but nothing that none of us didn’t know before.

 

Ilviren leads us through the opening and long a passage for several hundred feet, though it’s quite hard to judge distances under the circumstances. We reach a small chamber with a central well. Evidently our way leads down from here. Brand suggests setting a rope to help return and this is shrewd as close to the well I can feel a definite down-current. The water is also cooler.

 

There’s nothing to tie a rope to so Brand sets about fashioning a bollard from the stone – his accomplishments have become surprising. Meanwhile Ilviren ties a rope round her waist and dives down the well. A scant minute later the rope reaches its limit and we pull her back – with considerable effort, the current is strong.

 

Ilviren reports that as you go down the current gets faster and the pressure builds until you black out. This sounds pretty bad but I observe that it seems similar to our initial experiences on entering the water for the first time and, just like then, Ilviren seems to recover quickly with surprisingly little sign of trauma.

 

If Ilviren blacked out at the limit of the rope obviously it’s pointless relying on it to get us back so Brand leaves his bollard only half-shaped.

 

It occurs to me that if water is flowing down here it may be coming up elsewhere so we hunt back to the original pool. The water flows in there from a series of small culverts carefully hidden in the steps.

 

By the time we get back to Brand and the Well we’ve decided that there must be another way up – didn’t Forlindaal say that we must go through the Well to reach the Fires of Ormal? We shall just have to trust to Fate.

 

So we all dive down the well, weapons sheathed to avoid accidents. As Ilviren related, the waters flow faster and faster and the pressure builds until I black out…

 

…We all come to lying on our back in another small aquatic chamber under a culvert from which presumably we emerged. There is a definite current leaving it and I doubt we can go back the same way.

 

A passage to one side is the only exit so I lead the way with sword drawn. A few hundred feet later (I think) it opens in to a small chamber with massive stone doors bearing in their centre a depression the exact size of the key.

 

Sern can find no traps so we all assemble the Key and I insert it in the depression. The doors open in to a palatial hall 300 feet wide and 600 high! It’s hard to make out the length thanks to the distortion of the waters but I’d guess at 900 feet – it’s definitely longer than it is high.

 

Two sentries stand at the foot of a stair leading down from our entrance. There are more sentries standing along the walls, I’d guess as many as 200 all told. The far end is hard to make out but it rises in tiers and there are seated figures there. None of the figures nor any sentries more. They stand on guard, their spears at rest.

 

There seems nothing else to do so we proceed down the stairs, sheathing our weapons since we’d rather not provoke a fight with 200 Dúnedain warriors. We pass between the two sentries. They are tall and menacing, wearing armour of the 2nd Age, but they remain stationary – their eyes are shut as if asleep on their feet.

 

At the far end we find a series of tiers linked by short stairs. On each tier sit a dozen Númenórean nobles, men and women, all splendid in finery two thousand years old.

 

We follow the tiers to the topmost to find two thrones. The smaller of the two is vacant but the other is occupied by a typical Númenórean lord, haughty and handsome, but somehow sad. It doesn’t take the Karma of Aldarion at his feet to convince me that we’re looking at Fuinur himself. His uncut hair wafts around his face in the water like black seaweed.

 

So this is the Karma! It’s a construction of mother-of-pearl and looks magnificent but somehow I’m underwhelmed. I thought I’d feel more on finally setting eyes on perhaps the single greatest symbol of Númenórean kingship and Tar-Aldarion’s blessing from Uinen. But I begin to wonder how to steal it away. Doubtless touching it will release all about here from their slumbers – it might be shrewd to hack Fuinur’s head from his shoulders first – not exactly honourable but pragmatism may be wisdom here.

 

But then Brand and Sern examine the Karma and pronounce it a fake! I find myself not as surprised as I thought I should be. I reflect on my lack of response to seeing it and wonder if perhaps at a certain level I already knew it couldn’t be the real thing. This is clearly a thing of great beauty and workmanship and would doubtless command a great price in the markets of Pelargir but Brand and Sern are agreed it has no power.

 

However they can sense something of great power close by. As they cast about seeking the source of that power I cast my eye beyond the thrones to a pair of large stone doors but as I step toward them I pass close to Fuinur – and find I can hear his thoughts, his dreams!

 

I lean close; he dreams of power and regret. The former is ancient and deeply imbued in his thoughts but I get the feeling the regret is more recent. Looking over his head I spy the empty throne. By now Brand and Sern think the source of power is not beyond the doors but under the floor in front of the throne though they have no idea how to reach it.

 

Turning to Ilviren, I observe that the empty chair was her great-grandmother’s. Taking the hint, Ilviren sits in it, whereupon it becomes evident that Fuinur in his slumbers is aware of her and asks if she is Ancalimë? Ilviren replies that she is a descendant of Ancalimë’s daughter, Aglarien and Fuinur starts talking to her, full of regret.

 

He says, ‘They took her from me.’ And ‘I should have known she would find a way to send those who followed back.’ Ilviren asks who took Ancalimë from him. He replies that he had a hateful voice who told him he would use her and the jewel. Fuinur seems overcome with sadness. He remarks, ‘You will need the Karma of Aldarion to control the waters and open the doors but I wish to return to sleep now.’

 

At these words the floor before his throne opens and the Karma rises. It is the real thing this time, I can feel it.

 

We all crowd forward to see it – except for Pimm, who sways slightly in the water, blinking sleepily. I don’t feel sleepy but suddenly I can sense something that’s urging sleep upon us. Whatever we do we had best be quick about it or we may join Fuinur’s people in their slumbers. If that’s the price of immortality then I want none of it.

 

To do list:

Learn to swim

Retrieve the Karma of Aldarion

Destroy the Kuilëondo

Get Forlindaal’s opinion on the Razarac’s heart

Get home safely

Keep accounts for money accruing while in Raj

Visit Minas Ithil – probably not going to happen now

Talk to the survivor of the 1st Mordor expedition before entering Mordor

Survey my estates and produce a plan to improve them – consider Pimm’s offer but be cautious