[Bêthberry]

An ominous contrast had presented itself when Calumdril had left the feasting hall to familiarise himself with the layout of the new buildings in the settlement.

The hall had been bright with torches, candles, cooking fires and had rung with cheers and raucous, boisterous laughter of the celebration. Crowded, the settlers had jostled shoulder to shoulder and the warmth of their bodies had added to the heat of the fires. The air had been heavy with the scent of rich spices, roasting meat, beer and wine, bodies in close proximity. It had almost been overpowering. Calumdril's nostrils had been aware of every odour and scent and aroma, his ears attuned to several conversations, the timbres of many voices he knew well, his own muscles made langorous by the sensations.

Once he had stepped outside, he had been disoriented by the contrast. Here, it was dark, dark as the caves he had once hid in in Ithilien, but without the musty, earthy scent. He could smell only the aromas of cut wood and chipped stone. The sounds of the hall had been muffled by the walls or by his own efforts to shake the scene out of his head and orient himself outside. His eyes could not immediately adjust to the darkness and only slowly could he distinguish between the dark of a wall and the dark of the air around around him or the sky. He stumbled once or twice around timber and planks that had been left lying around and without the moon he could not make out the outlines of the tents and wagons.

He had felt the hair on his arms and legs and head rise in the cool breeze and suddenly his mouth became dry and his neck stiff. He had a premonition of what was coming to pass and his mind was filled with images of the dead Hillman he had found and of Thorgil's body, eaten by vultures. He smelt the decay of their flesh and remembered the waxy feel of their bodies, touched by the musty odour of the forest, wet from rain. He heard the strange clicks around him too and then stumbled back as the spear thudded into his chest and drove through him.

He went to pull his knife from his belt but he could not feel his arm moving and wondered why not. He was in no pain, just removed from contact with his body as the spear severed his spine and he saw wavering in front of him the Hillman he had buried come to haunt him. Or a different one and then others. And as they kicked at him and withdrew the spear from his body his eyes went blank. He remembered the scent of niphredil and then no more.