[Everdawn]

Maén took little notice of the others around her, all her mind focused on was the piece of parchment in her small hands and the task at hand, getting away form the archives without being seen.

Im doing it Aunt Lysia, I will kill our traitor. she thought to herself. Though small in stature, Maén felt empowered by the information which she now held within her grasp.

Something was amiss though, she stood in a dark hallway some way ahead of the others who strode briskly to catch up. It was quiet, too quiet, and not at all in the character of an institution of Gondor.

“Aelimur.” She asked without turning to the others. “You have my things don’t you, I wouldn’t want to leave anything behind.” She remarked cautiously.

“Of course my lady” he replied and lay her satchel at her feet. Her attention was elsewhere, waiting for what seemed like an invisible beast.

“You all have your weapons?” she asked, still cautiously glancing around.

“We do.” Answered Del, the sound of metal being drawn echoed in the hall.

“Sheathe them” she said sharply. “The last thing we want is a dead Gondorian guard, who know what the military will say about that, ‘Il Galoth tried to gather information to assassinate the King’ that’s what it will be.” She paused, and looked at the company as if the impending threat had passed. “Come, I think I know how to get out.” She lead them through a series of side-halls and catacombs of book-lots until she came to another door which she looked at intently for a while. Her silence bewildered the men who stood at a loss. A frown came to Maén’s face as she unexpectedly threw herself against it, failing to move it. Slightly embarrassed she rose from the ground and dusted herself off.

“Roryn” she said shortly, “If you would be so kind” she gestured to the door which the ex-ranger moved with ease.

“Thankyou.” She muttered as she strode demurely onto the street.

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Carathir sauntered up through the city with Hittai dragging behind. His own horse Thaoura came as his master commanded. He had a hard time trying to remember exactly why he was taking a Gondorian woman’s horse to the stables for her like a common slave. He immediately scolded himself, after-all he had been saved from death by Lysia’s influence; he owed it to serve her niece. On the other hand, he need not serve her at all, it was his people who were being oppressed and if this Guriel Il Galoth was still alive, he could do something about the supremacy of Gondor. He smiled cruelly for a minute before his conscious spoke
What about the cruelty that Gondor’s King has shown to Lysia Il Galoth? She deserved to know the truth about her husband. He came to a single conclusion, Gondor would pay.

He found a stable that was not too dingy in which he kept Hittai and Thaoura. The stable master however was reluctant to have the horses until he explained they belonged to his master, Widow Il Galoth. Storming out he began to seek the Archives, in which he supposed the fiery Maén had found what she was looking for.