|
Step by step, Marsillion could feel himself draw closer. Closer to Armenelos, the shining capital of the West. Closer to Abârpânarú, his strong minded uncle, the lover of horses. Closer to the seat of the King, the man responsible for the deaths of so many. Closer to the final betrayal. Irreversible and immense. Treason. Traitor. Permanent seperation from my homeland. From my people .
Not my people , his inner voice reminded him. My people are here with me. My people wait in Romenna, and in a dank cell in Armenelos. It's values that make men brothers, not blood. Tiru is my brother. Tiru is my blood . Such were the thoughts of Marsillion as the rescue party worked steadily into the east.
A crow called, it's loud, eerie caw stealing Marsillion's thoughts, and bringing his mind back into the present. Ahead rode Thoronmir, behind the rest of the companions. Marsillion checked Mani to a halt, the first instructions he had given her since they set out. Azarmanô cantered past, followed by Abârzadan. Marsillion waited for these two to pass before joining Tiru and Kâthaanî at the rear of the party.
Marsillion rode quietly alongside Tiru for a time, casting a look of distrust on the young man riding a few paces ahead. “Tell me Tiru,” he whispered, leaning close to his friend, “why a man, whom none of Abârpânarú's closest confidants profess to know, would be willing to throw his young life away for a man and a cause he knoweth not?”
“That I do not know,” Tiru responded earnestly. “Some men of that age seek glory, do they not?”
“Aye, they do indeed. But this man is not a member of the Annanost. Nor a member of the Faithful at all. For such a man, there would be no greater adventure then sailing defiantly into the West. Loyalty to the King brings great adventure in these days. The King and his dark priest have infiltrated our group before, taking first my father, and now my uncle. And there were others Tiru, do you remember the others? Fair, Adunîbal, and his beautiful wife Izrebâth. There was Sulumazad, Tiru, do you remember noble Sulumazad?
“I do, of course,” Tiru responded with sad eyes. “Brave and strong the lot of them.”
“Aye, they were. The King took them all, and could yet take us. Whether Abârzadan dealt horses with Abarpanaru I know not. But the man is dangerous, Tiru. A danger to us all. Whether a spy of the dark one, or a seeker of glory he is dangerous, and he is a liar.”
“Perhaps yes,” Tiru conceded, swatting a fly from his mount's glossy neck, “but this mission is a danger to us all with or without him.”
“Indeed,” Marsillion spoke, his voice changed from a whisper to a normal conversational tone. “Let us be vigilant brother. We shall do our best and trust the Valar to aid us. Let us flush these dark thoughts from our minds. Tell me my friend, will you seek your former people when we arrive safely in Middle Earth?”
|