[Arry]

Rôsgollo

Rôsgollo’s search for Lord Ereglin bore no fruit, save for increasing understanding that he must get to the top level if her were to survive to see his Lord and brother to safety. Gaeredhel, where are you? he called as he ran. But heat from the fires spreading from the parapet and the swell of battle as the Orcs breached the gates pressed in upon him and he could spare no time to look for an answering call. He retreated in haste to the western passageway slipping in just as the gates were closed and barred against the enemy. Breathing hard, he stood for a moment with his back against the stonework.

My brother, I am here with Lord Ereglin. He is safe. Come! Gaeredhel’s urgent call lifted a corner of the pervading shadow that cast a pall over sight and senses.

The enemy was already bearing down on the entryway to the third level as Rôsgollo climbed the steps up from the now closed gates. He paused at the top, making way as reinforcements of the city’s forces hurried to fortify their positions. Before heading to where his brother and Lord Ereglin were, Rôsgollo made his way up to the parapet that looked down on the second level. A dark river swelled into the streets below, leaving eddies of red and the sounds of screams and cut off cries as it surged against any who stood in its way. In some small places, there were brighter swords raised and the singing of arrows as they rushed in vain hope toward their targets. But the small points of light were borne under by the unrelenting current of the dark river. In vain, he looked for the Periannath, but could not find them below, nor did he see them along the parapet on this tier. With a grim face, he headed toward the hall where Lord Ereglin had been housed. From there he would make for the North Gate, intending to find his brother as he escorted Lord Ereglin to the escape way.

He paused to ask a question of one of the King’s men set as guard at the quarters where the Elves were staying. The man was just preparing to leave to join the other troops when Rôsgollo ran up. ‘They’ve all gone, the Elves have,’ the man told him. ‘They’ll be gathering in the King’s Hall with Minister Mellonar before they head to the North Gate.’ Rôsgollo thanked the man and ran on toward the Hall. An image and a thought niggled at the back of his mind as he sped on.

A thin, pale man, hunched beneath his robes . . . a vulture, waiting to feed on the dead . . . Rôsgollo narrowed his eyes at the image. . . . Any dead . . . Vultures are not picky when it comes to feeding, he thought. He must warn his brother . . . the man may bear watching . . .