[piosenniel]

Gondor - Visitors in the night II

Several hours had passed since the brothers began their watch. As on the previous nights, the lights on the top floor of the residence in the Queen’s apartments had gone out first, while those of the King burned far into the night. And as before the large window in Elessar’s main room remained invitingly open – secure it was supposed because of its height from the ground.

All was quiet as the two crows leapt up from their branch and flew quickly to the broad sill of the King’s window. The one lamp on the table near the door burned low; the room was empty of people. Stretching his neck round the corner of the frame, Wahid could see the brighter light of the desk’s lamp to his right.

‘He’s in his office,’ he whispered to Wasim. ‘Fly to the high little window above his chair and drop down on him. I’ll come in here, from the side. The Great Wyrm willing, we can finish him off in short time and be on our way back south within the hour.’

Wahid dropped softly to the floor, changing to mannish form. His slim fingers found the double edged knife they had hidden previously in the crack beneath the sill. Flattening himself against the wall, he moved along it toward the door to the office, listening intently for any movement of his target. Just outside the door he stood still and silent until he heard his brother land on the hardwood floor below the little window.

There was a cry as Wasim’s garrote pulled tight against the King’s throat. Wahid rushed in intending to finish off the man, but Elessar kicked out with his stockinged foot and caught him square in the gut – knocking him hard against the door jamb. The knife flew from his hands, clattering loudly across the floor. Wahid ran quickly to fetch it, but Halmir had heard the odd sounds coming through the door. With a cry, he burst through the entryway, the guard from the stairs following close behind.

Wahid was pinned to the floor with a lance through his chest by the stair guard. Halmir, his sword drawn, flew into the King’s study. Elessar, he saw, was clawing at his throat in an attempt to loosen the deadly noose held tight against it. And holding that noose was a wiry, dark haired man, who looked at Halmir with a sneer on his face as he tried to cut off the King’s breath.

Halmir aimed a downward cut at the man’s arm nearest him, the tip of his sword dealing a small glancing gash to the olive forearm of the assailant. It was enough to make him loosen his grip on the garrote, and Elessar ripped the thin cord from his neck, turning round to deliver his own blow to the man with the penknife he’d left on the desk. Halmir held back from any further thrusts of his sword in the small quarters, not wanting to injure his King.

Wasim called out to his brother in their clan tongue to flee, glaring at the Gondorians when the face which appeared in the doorway was that of the stair guard. With a strangled cry he leapt upward, leaving the other three men to watch in bewildering confusion as his form changed to that of a small crow and fled through the small slit window into the welcome cover of darkness.

‘Skinchanger,’ rasped out the King, regaining his wits quickly. ‘Alert the guards, Halmir,’ he ordered, pushing the man out of the study and toward the door. ‘And you,’ he cried, motioning for the other guard to follow him. ‘Come with me! We must see to the safety of the Queen!’