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Come athelas
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Come athelas

Life to the dying
In the king’s hand lying


There was a new captain, the Lady Finduilas heard, but face-to-face he made little impression: another grim-faced silent man like all those who encircled her.

Then he took her hand—

A great man pierced with arrows lying in a coffin-boat slipping down the river. Fire in the city and fire in the veins of a young man burning on a sick-bed. And her lord, her lord – as strong as the stone of this stern city – with tears upon his broken face—

“Oh come,” she whispered. “Come.”

He became quite the favourite. And when he left, she knew hope had departed.


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