Imrahil sat in his quarters, reviewing the news of the day. There had been no sightings of Linghil, and no further news of the King. Arwen's mind could not pierce the thick shrouds of mist which hid Elessar's thoughts and he seemed hidden in darkness with no clue to his surroundings. 'Someone other than this new "advisor", Linghil, has had a hand in this.' Imrahil turned to his son, Elphir. 'See if you and a captain of the guard can untangle who might have been plotting with Linghil to take the King. And more important, for what purpose.'
Elphir nodded his head, and ran his finger down a list of names of those "close" to the King. 'Yes, we can start here . . .'
His sentence was interrupted by loud voices from the corridor. The door was flung open and a man rushed in, dressed in the livery of the guard. Imrahil and his son stood, swords drawn to face the intruder.
'My Lord,' said the man, showing his empty hands to the Prince, 'I come from the Houses of Healing, bearing word from one who lies wounded there. One Bebberyn, of the High Guard of Dol Amroth.'
Imrahil lowered the point of his sword. 'By your face and tone I see it is ill news. Speak, man!'
__________________
‘Many are the strange chances of the world,’ said Mithrandir, ‘and help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter.’
– Gandalf in: The Silmarillion, 'Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age'
|