[Galadriel55]

The night was still and silent. Then, a door opened. The glow of a candle illuminated the street. The candle moved steadily along the street, to the town square. The square was surrounded by buildings and had a well in the middle. All the ways met there, people once said – which was true enough about the village.

The well creaked and groaned as a bucket of water was pulled up. The man with the candle unhooked it from the rope and stood it on the ground. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned around to face the three approaching men. He laughed quietly. It had no mirth to it.

“What would such a noble man be doing outside at this hour?” one of the King’s Men asked sweetly.

“No less and no more than getting a drink of water, good sirs,” the man replied, with a hint of mockery in his voice.

“A drink of water? What a small thing to pay for with your life, lordling,” the second man said.

“At the least my life will be worth more than all of yours put together!” the man replied steadfastly.

“Your life? Life, say you? Life? Bah! It has no value. Of cheap things it is the cheapest,” the third King’s Man laughed. “Life! What is life? A chicken has life too, and yet you will not hesitate to eat it!” He laughed again. “Two men have lost their lives by our hands. Now it will be three. And there will be more – all of this beggarly brood, and more – all of the Elendili! What is their life but a thing bound to be lost?”

“You are a fool, if you speak so,” the lone man replied majestically. “You do not know how dear life is. You will not know – not until you lose it yourselves. The only reason my life is worth naught to you,” he continued, “is because by taking it you save your own. You are nothing but cowards! Craven!”

“If you think this will aid you, you are mistaken, and you will pay dearly for your mistake.” The King’s Men smiled as they advanced. The man stood silent and proud, as though he was not, weaponless and outnumbered, facing the last minutes of his life, but as though he was a king in the head of an army leading his men to victory.

They struggled with each other for a long time. But the man was one, when the King’s Men were three. Eventually they held him fast between them, and he, exhausted, could not escape. Two of the men gripped his arms and shoulders, so that he could not move, and the third forced his head into the bucket of water that the man himself raised from the well.

“Drink, man, drink!” the King’s Men taunted. “We would not be indebted to you!”

And he drank. He breathed in deeply. Once, twice. His body went limp. A pale mist rose over his body and floated slowly to the West, where the last stars still showed against the pale of dawn. The King’s Men stared at his body, unbelieving. How could a man who valued life so much part with it so easily? The stood for a few more minutes, and then walked away, still pondering, leaving the body untouched. When the villagers woke up, they found it lying there, with the face still in the water.

ALIVE:

Morsul
Nerwen
Inzil
Lottie
Shasta
Manwe
PomPom
The Phantom
sally
Steve
Brin

DEAD:
G55, the hesitant King’s Man (modess) – stabbed on Night1
Eomer (ordo) – stoned on Day1
Boro (gifted) – drowned on Night2


Night people - stop your nightly duties! Day people - begin your daily tasks!