[Palando]

Like a holy spear; jutting from the very heart of Gondor’s greatest city, the white tower pierced the sky above Minas Tirith. At its feet seven mighty walls stood, falling away in succession to the ground. Splitting the wall in two was a huge pier of rock that rose up to the top of the seventh wall. Its sheer top was crowned by an imposing citadel that looked down over the city.

The scene moved the Axeman deeply, his human soul swelling at the sight of one of man’s most potent constructions. Halasan, weary to the bone and grey skinned, did not even look up as the pair made their way towards the great gate. A dry, harsh cough erupted from his mouth as his stumbled forward and once again pain lanced his stomach, causing his heart to flutter. He would have vomited if he had something left to bring up. Reaching out he leaned against the ever imposing Axeman and paused for a moment until the nausea had paused. Haleg instinctively stopped and waited. Offered some brief encouragement to his friend, and then started off again.

The gate way offered a deep, cold shadow that left their skin prickling in the cool air, and for several minutes they stood in silence and enjoyed the sensation. Leaning against the wall Haleg could feel hope surge through him. Minas Tirith was a place of change, where great things happened. He hoped now that Halasan would soon find peace, as he could sense that the man was dying. A sudden commotion caught his attention and he turned to see Halasan slumped on the floor, blood welling around his head from where it had hit the cobbled stones beneath. Around him several guards and townsfolk had gathered, though none approach too close. As he ran forward he wondered why no one was helping. But his question was soon answered. Plague! They believed the woodsman had the plague and were slowly backing away. He laughed a short, bitter laugh that caught the onlookers attention, and moved closer to kneel by the body. Grasping a shoulder he turned his friend over, and gasped. He looked dead! The skin was bleached white against the dark blood that streamed slowly from a wide cut across his forehead, giving him a death’s head visage..

Scooping the fragile figure into his arms Haleg stood and turned to face the guards. “Fear not.” He called out for all to hear. “This man does not have the plague. We were waylaid on our journey here and he has taken a grievous wound.” He stepped forward towards one of the guards. Thinking fast to find a way for them to help. “Please, he needs a healer or he is sure to die. The guards did not move. “We are fiends of Azariah Alamax. We were travelling together but were parted at Cair Andros. Please, help!”

The mentioning of Azariah caused a stir amongst the guards and an officer, Haleg could not tell of what rank, moved closer to the group. “I am the gate warden. I know the man of which you speak. He travelled past these gates some time a go but it was not to Cair Andros that he headed.” Haleg nodded, and was glad to see that the bleeding had slowed slightly. “He was originally heading to Edoras on the business of your king. When he was with us he travelled with a female by the name of Elenna Ethynian.” The gate warden smiled. “It seems you speak the truth then.” He said simply. Looking at the crumpled body in the Axeman’s arms his smiled faded. “Your friend is close to death. Quickly, follow me. At once the warden turned and headed into the mass of alleys and narrow roads that threaded their way through the great city.

Several times he got lost, only to find the warden waiting at the next junction. And slowly they progressed through the cities great streets travelling higher and higher until they turned into a series of low arched tunnels and out into exquisite garden. He paid little attention to the details but followed the warden into a high arched white building. Beds littered the room and as if on silent wings a group of healers flooded around the bed. Haleg was politely ushered out.

******

The dragon reared again and belched out a sheet of liquid flame that seared his body. His screams pierced the infinite darkness as his flesh withered and burned. But he could not die in the flame. For days he had battled on, scoring wound after wound on the creatures scaly torso. In return he had received wounds that should have left him in ashes. But their bodies endured, and the pain continued…

With a thud he body slammed into the ground. For a moment he looked at his torn and ruined body and waited In a matter of heartbeats he was healed again and he readied himself for another battle. How long had he been fighting? Days? Weeks? Months?
Time had no meaning here, and neither did death. Only pain. Suddenly a new sound came to his ears. A soothing sound, like the gentle falling of rain. He ran towards it, aware that that he could not see. The sound grew louder, but turning he could see that the dragon was flying towards him also. He increased his speed. Desperate to do something other that fight the dragon. The sound clarified. It was not rainfall, but voices! Distant, echoing and barely audible. Suddenly he realised that one of the voices was familiar, hovering high above him. He wished he could find that voice. With a start he knew that he could as he allowed his wings to spread wide, the wind playing gently against his stretched hide. Digging his claws down Halasan took flight; his lithe scaly body cutting smoothly through the dark, cold air.

A white light pierced the darkness, covering his body in a diffuse glow. Sitting up Halasan found himself at home, standing in the middle of his low roofed bedroom.. He walked to the door. Beyond he could see his wife sitting, talking to Catrina, their voices strangely distant and airy so that only some words could be recognised. Catrina was telling Gwen a story, full sadness and betrayal. Of a dominating, distant father and a traitorous friend. As the story progressed Halasan found himself feeling sleepy; his eyelids growing heavy. Eventually he toppled and fell down. His skin turning scaly, wings growing again upon his back.

Suddenly, he stopped. The story was true. HE was the dominating father, pushing his daughter away. It was HIS friend that had betrayed and, through a foolish decision, caused the death of his family. Despair filled his mind. A need to find Catrina, to apologise for driving her away. To make things better again.

He rose again towards the light. But now he had no wings. No scaly skin, He was Halasan again, and he WOULD find his daughter…

******

The woodsman sat up suddenly. A move that surprised Haleg who had just been idly watching the pretty young woman move smoothly between the beds and out of the Healing house. She had arrived yesterday looking ill but had quickly been tended to by the kindly healers here. He had been aroused instantly and had been building up the courage to speak to her. Still, she was gone now and his friend had finally awoke. It had been four days since they had arrived at the healing house. Four days of Haleg watching over Halasan and questioning the guards about the possible whereabouts of Catrina. Though, as he did not what she looked like it had been proving an impossible task.

“Catrina!” Halasan called out. His voice was weak. His eyes, wide in shock feverishly scanning the room as he struggled to understand where is was.
“Where is she, I could hear her. Please help me.” His growing voice was gaining more attention now and one of the older healers came over to his bed. “Now then, what is all this commotion for sir?” As she spoke her arm rose and she placed a chubby hand across the woodsman’s brow. The effect was instantaneous; calming the patient so that he sat back in his bed.
Halasan turned his head to face Haleg. Tears welling in his eyes. “I thought I heard her Haleg. She seemed so close.” He blinked, forcing the tears down his cheeks. “She was telling her story about me and Kiatus.” Suddenly he sat up again and the woman, who Haleg believed was called Ioreth, jumped at the sudden motion. Halasan reached out and grabbed Halegs tunic. His eyes now looking desperate. “I was a bad father, I see it now. I pushed her away. Its all my fault.”
Haleg patted his hand in an attempt to calm his friend and looked to the healer. He was about to apologise but stopped. The healer was staring open mouthed at Halasan. “Ioreth, are you ok?” Haleg ask kindly. But she ignored him and continued to stare at her patient. Finally she spoke. “Sir, could you describe your daughter to me please.”

Haleg thought this a strange request until Halasan began the description. A dread feeling entered him as he suddenly realised why Ioreth looked so shocked. The girl! Guilt washed over the Axeman. The woman he had been searching for, who had filled their lives for weeks, had been in front of him for over a day! He had even found her attractive. Anger grew in him as he struggled to ignore the arousal he felt at just remembering her image.

“Oh Halasan no. I am so sorry.” Halasan stopped his description and realised how strangely the two people by his bed were looking. Before he could question them Ioreth grabbed his hand and he could feel the tremble of hers as she spoke.
“Halasan, I’m afraid you COULD hear your daughter. She was here only moments ago.”

His world stopped then suddenly. All thoughts and feelings falling away as the realisation of her words hit him. Catrina here? He looked to Haleg but his head was lowered as if he also was struggling with the words. “Here? What do you mean here?”

“She came in yesterday in a terrible way. Your old friend Kiatus had been mistreating her badly and she was fading away. Oh Halasan she was only a few beds away! Your friend had been out searching when she awoke and told me her story. I.... I...” her words trailed away and an understanding flowed coolly over Halasans mind. He stood, gathered his belt and scabbard and clumsily put it on. He was dizzy, fighting against days of inactivity and as he went to move he realised that he was still not well.
“You could not heal me then?” He asked in a flat voice. Ioreth hesitated again. “No, I’m sorry. The infection from your wound has gone too far. If you stay here, we could tend to you and give you something to stem the pain but… But even still you do not have long left to live! I’m sorry.”

Halasan nodded his head slowly, then looked to his friend. “We still have to find her, Haleg. Kiatus must be found and made to pay and Catrina deserves a new live.” Haleg stood and looked to the healer. “Where did she go?” Ioreth looked from one warrior to the other. “She…She said she was staying at The Stone Guard.”
“I know where that is.” Haleg replied, and then both started to run for the exit. Ioreth called after the retreating figures. “She only left a short while ago. Maybe you will be able to catch them there.” Haleg looked back quickly and thanked her before they left the building and out into the maze of Minas Tirith.

*****

Breaking into a run the buildings around them blurred into obscurity as they charged forward with their singular purpose. Haleg fought against his guilt, but then decided to put such thoughts from his mind.

Halasan ran in silence.
So he was to die! Fear struggled to rise in him but he only used it to add strength to his withered body. He would not die before seeking vengeance against Kiatus and freeing his daughter. She had to know he was sorry. That he regretted how he had treated her.

They broke free of the dense buildings to face Kiatus, his hand raised to strike Catrina while a portly innkeeper stood back in the entrance of the Stone Guard. “No!” Halasan yelled and leapt forward, his sword appearing instantly in his hand.

In his eyes glowed death!