[Palando]

The oiled cloth slid smoothly down the long broad blade, cleaning away the last of the most steadfast battle stains, every stroke revealing more of the beautifully crafted weapon beneath. Halasan marvelled at the swords crafting, never before had he wielded such a deadly device. Its weight seemed to disappear in his hand; the pummel in perfect balance with the blade, allowing it to become merely an extension of his arm.

As a family man and homestead owner he had had little need for the skills of war craft, and so had taken no joy in it. But with this blade, and the cold that he felt in his soul since the death of his family, the battle had been intense and exhilarating; an orgy of violence. At its end he had meted out death beyond his counting, his pounding heart threatening to burst from his chest. For a while after he had been dizzy and had wandered the bloody field in a haze, unable to speak or hear the cries of pain from the wounded and dying. Eventually Haleg had come to him, his cold eyes fixed on Halasans, and guided him back to the shore line where the boat had been drawn up, and then he had slept.

When he woke the sun had been high in the sky, hunger clawing at his belly and a distant roaring filling his ears. He was quickly passed some soup and bread which he consumed greedily before quaffing a full skin of sweetened water. After finishing Halasan had realised that the roaring noise had not abated. Standing he had found its source, for the boat now neared the great Anduin River its self, the Entwash splitting into a dozen or so smaller channels and to the north he could see the misty haze of the great Rauros falls. Sitting again he had realised that the blade he had used the night before was gone. Looking round his eyes had met Halegs. For a moment he did not move, but then the Axeman had stood and walked over to him.
“You did well last night Hal.” The Axeman stated without emotion. “Though I suggest you clean your clothes, the stench of death is upon them.” Looking down he was shocked to find that he was matted in blood and grime. Quickly he stripped and cleaned himself and his clothes in the water before sitting again, near naked with his clothes draped over the side. Haleg sighed and then held forward a belted scabbard. “Here, it seems that this is now yours.” Excitement engulfed him as the weapon was handed to him, but he remained calm. “Thank you friend, it is a kingly gift, yet I will not refuse it as I cannot deny that after last night I desire its ownership greatly.” Haleg’s shoulders slumped as the woodsman drew the weapon, its blade dull still dirty from the battle. “As it is yours now you can clean it. Look after the blade and it will look after you. I suggest also that you take the time to become more skilled with the blade. Blind fury and the quality of the blade kept you alive last night, but you cannot rely on these alone. Maybe Azariah can help you train in the blades use.”

After that Haleg had not spoken again, but walked away to sit by himself. Halasan, his joy now consuming him, had sat and examined the gift. Everything about the weapon and its belt and scabbard was beautiful and practical. He had quickly found a pouch attached to the belt that contained a whetstone, an oiled cloth and a strong vial of dark viscous oil. With relish he had begun to clean the blade.

Haleg sat and watched the woodsman. Woodsman! Haleg emitted a brief laugh bereft of humour. It now seemed fated that he would meet this dark and desperate character. Had he not once been called ‘The woodsman’ himself, and his life also filled with the emptiness only the desire for vengeance could give. Haleg watched in silence as the sailors guided the boat through the last of the maze of rivulets into the faster flowing main stream of the River Anduin. A strong breeze met them as the boat drifted into the main channel and the sails were unfurled, causing the boat to jolt with acceleration, speeding them south towards the rising island of Cair Andros.

******

Azariah and Elenna looked out together in silence across the expansive marshy wetland of the Wetwang. Elenna enjoyed the air here, it was humid and yet with a cool wind that soothed the pain in her chest and throat. She had been trying to hide the pain from her friend for days now but it had been getting worse. She remembered again the first specks of blood that appeared on her silk cloth, the panic and realisation that had left her numb with fear. Azariah turned to speak but was cut off by a yell from the Captain.

“Cair Andros ahead. We will need to land there to get permission to pass through into North Ithilien. If you need any supplies then there is now a trading post here.”
Looking ahead the passengers could see the rocky bow shaped northern tip of the long island splitting the water in a bubbly foam. Grassy land sloped up and away from the point to spread out into the island, clumps of trees littering the island, and in the distance the dark shadow of the old fort and beacon tower. Taking the western route the boat cruised along side the island, which still showed the scars of its violent history in the decimated fortifications that lined the shore. Slowly the boat came alongside a docking pier, on which several stern faced guards were waiting, looking wearily at the passengers and crew. When the boat finally stopped Azariah stood and drew back his travel cloak to face the guards, his Gondorian armour glinting in the bright sunlight. The guard’s stance changed instantly, one of them running off towards the crumbling tower gate, and the other standing erect with his head held forward. The guard saluted which Azariah returned before climbing from the boat onto the pier.

Halasan was the last to leave, forcing himself to sheath the weapon before climbing on the pier. The delay frustrated him now and he lapsed into a distant silence as his mind teased him with repeating images of him killing Kiatus, his blade chopping chunks of flesh from the traitor while he laughed. Blood and gore welling around in a rising flood. Strangely he had trouble picturing his daughter face since the battle…