‘I will speak with Imrahil, not you. I do not know these people, and you, you are not the Prince of Dol Amroth. You have no authority to keep me here and ask me these questions. None.’ Belegond arrogantly stated facing of his interrogators, which comprised Elphir, Benethrin, Assa, Hadán and Gallend sat in a semi-circle in front of the man standing in shackles before them. Imrahil came out of the shadows behind Belegond and stood ominously in front of the man who quailed before his huge presence.
‘They have my full authority to question you, Belegond. The only reason I do not chose to do this myself is that I am not sure I would be able to control myself sufficiently not strangle you, although that would be too quick and humane a death. You will cooperate with my heir or we will release you to your fate. Elphir, I will be in my study. You have my full permission to do whatever you wish with this filth.’
‘Your family knew him,’ Elphir continued steadily, ‘before your brother Hannemor was elevated to become the Condir for the Astari. This man, Turallien, orchestrated Bregolin’s death and Hannemor’s succession. You knew him before these events, before you came to Dol Amroth. Your sister left a hidden cache of letters before she was taken; they have been most illuminating. It seems you are guilty of far more crimes than just the embezzlement for which you have still not been justly punished. You supported Cirion in his plan to murder Amahlia and Lothíriel…’
‘No, you cannot hold me responsible for that. I knew nothing of that plan. I had been instructed merely to provide money, for what end I did not ask. I met this man, Turallien, only once in Minas Tirith, at Hannedriel’s. It was enough. I told her and Hannemor to keep him away from me, and they did. I never saw him after that. Melian dealt with him. Melian often took Amedlan with her to see him, I always thought it could be because the twins were his or because it looked better for her to meet this man accompanied by her daughter. Truly, I didn’t care. Any time away from her was welcome.’
‘And Cirion? Melian had been dead two years before he showed up. We know it was Turallien who funded him, you must have dealt with him directly then.’
‘No.’ Belegond almost laughed and shook his head sighing deeply. ‘No, no, no. You still don’t understand, do you. I don’t know which of them was worse, Melian or Amedlan. I told you, she was always more his daughter than mine. What a monster you allowed to grow up in the heart of your precious family, right under your noses. Galador was the only one who could stand up to her, but then, he did have a measure of protection after Hannestor died when Amahlia took him in to your family. Amedlan hated her, and Lothíriel, but most of all, Lothíriel. It wouldn’t surprise me if Cirion had been Amedlan’s idea, she most certainly gave him all the knowledge he needed to succeed where her mother had failed.’
‘Why? Why this level of hatred towards our family?’
‘I never wanted to know, so I never asked. You may find it hard to believe but I tried to avoid my wife and my daughter as much as possible. I did my best to keep them off my back by doing exactly as they told me to the barest minimum.’
‘You ordered the torture of Cirion to keep him from divulging your family’s connection with him and I am guessing you blamed this on Faramir. Was Amedlan in love with Cirion?’
‘Ha, no. Let us just say that Cirion was not interested in Amedlan, she was not his… type.’ Elphir shifted uneasily in his seat, thinking of what Cirion had done to his sister.
‘But yes, it was Amedlan who told me to have Cirion’s tongue ripped out and his hands crushed. She could not take the risk of him confessing her involvement. She had her eyes firmly on you, Elphir. It was only natural that she would lay the blame on Faramir - to Turallien at least. Faramir was the only one left at the Palace, except myself, who had the authority to order it done. You, you the family would all know it was me, but she was sure she could convince Turallien that it was Faramir, even though it was all her. She even found me the man to do it, as none of the Swan Knights would have debased themselves by such an act. I had to let the man in and listen to Cirion’s screams. It was unbearable.’ Belegond shuddered at the memory.
‘Who was the man?’
‘Some hooded Astari-type. I didn’t see his face clearly, nor did I want to…’
‘And you paid him twelve sovereigns to do the job.’ Elphir said emphatically.
‘How do you know that? Did the man talk?’
‘We found… eventually… twelve sovereigns inside Amedlan, stuffed into the cavity left by her tongue, so he talked to someone… someone who will also hold you as responsible…’ Belegond looked sickened.
‘How did you meet your wife, Belegond?’ Gallend interrupted.
‘And who are you to ask me any questions?’ Belegond replied petulantly.
‘They are all acting on my authority, Belegond, answer him and any of those present.’ Elphir ordered sternly.
‘She was presented to me, by my sister. I did not choose her. I knew nothing about her other than her name, and even that I am not sure was the name she was born with. I had just been informed by my sister of her proposal to Denethor to recommend me for the Stewardship of Dol Amroth, for which, she insisted, I needed a wife. Melian was comely enough and the position was prestigious. Why would I refuse? That I accepted was the greatest regret of my life.’
‘If this is all you know, why do they still want you, either alive to give them information or dead to prevent you imparting it or in revenge for Cirion? You have told us nothing of relevance we did not already know. What are you still not telling us?’ Assa interjected harshly. ‘You should want us to find this man and eliminate him as soon as possible, and yet you are still hiding something. You know, don’t you, where your brother has hidden the hoard, or where he might hide it, were he to take it from Pelargir?’
‘You will not be released, Belegond,’ said Gallend taking over, ‘to enjoy a life of riches, nor will he come to rescue you. You know this. You owe him no allegiance. So, you are protecting someone else. But there is no one left, Belegond, except Galador, a son you hate and Turallien, a man you fear and hate...’
Belegond stayed silent, showing no emotion.
‘There is one,’ came a voice from behind a tapestry, which covered a hidden door into the chamber. It was Galador, he stepped out from behind the tapestry with Erchirion. ‘There is my cousin, Herumor,’ he said determinedly.
All those seated noted Belegond’s flicker of distress.
‘I am sure I would have heard Amedlan’s wailing all the way in Minas Tirith had he been killed, Father, so I can only assume he is likely to still be alive, at least until her own disgrace and untimely death. His absence from your story is rather striking, but you were doing so well until that point. Although, we both know that I look too like my aunt, Hannedriel, not to be your son, much to my disgust. That said if Turallien is the alternative, perhaps I shouldn’t be so ungrateful…’
Erchirion put a reassuring hand on Galador’s arm to let him know he was not alone and was loved. Belegond sneered.
‘I am so ashamed to have one such as you as my son. You...’ Belegond was barely controlling himself.
‘He is your son too, isn’t he? Herumor. That’s why you always preferred him. Did Amedlan not know she was screwing her half-brother or was that just another one of our family’s perversions? What a family. I overheard Mother shouting at Amedlan when she realised what Amedlan and Herumor were really getting up to on his visits to us. That would explain a great deal. It’s so obvious now. So, Mother knew they were more than cousins. Mother was threatening to ban them from seeing each other and within days she was dead. It wasn’t Idromiel who put the mushrooms in her stew, was it, Father? It was Amedlan, who then blamed it on the poor woman, implying she had done it on the orders of one of the children. And it was Hannemor’s wife who was the woman Mother always threatened you with hurting if you didn’t do what she said. It makes sense now. What happened to her, Father? The woman you loved. Does Herumor know he is your son?’
Belegond looked both defiant and yet crushed. He stood glaring at Galador in open hatred, the truth of Galador’s words evident in his bearing. Elphir ordered him to be taken back to the dungeons.
‘Galador, I believe all here know some of what you have suffered at the hands of your family and how much my family owes you. And not just for your protection of Lothíriel, which shames us, me and my brothers. Could I ask if you would recognise Herumor now?’ Elphir asked him as gently as he could.
'I should be able to, although I do remember Amedlan crying to old Hannedriel that he had been badly wounded somehow. I had sneaked into the gardens at Hannedriel’s in Minas Tirith to see Margelith. She is not like the rest of the family. She is a good person. This was about eight years ago, when I was staying with you all at the Amrothian house in Minas Tirith a year or so after Lothi’s ordeal, just before she ran off with Vadamir and Hella. I asked Margelith about it and she said whatever it had been, it was bad enough to have been hushed up. He had gone into hiding sometime before, she hadn’t seem him for at least two years and that was the last time I heard his name mentioned.’
A messenger from Pelargir was announced at the door of the chamber. Elphir could see from the man’s face it was not good news and braced himself. He read the message from Tuor, already guessing its content and handed it over to Gallend to share with the others.
‘Galador, if I send you with the best protection I have, would you sail for Pelargir now? Tuor has great need of you. All of you, in fact. Erchirion, Benethrin, you will have to go in my stead. Father is called to Minas Tirith and I must stay here. I fear Hannemor has escaped Pelargir with the treasures from Dol Amroth still unaccounted for, as well as all the Astari gold from Minas Tirith. I am sure they have sailed north, past these very shores. I need to increase our watch of the seas,’ he exclaimed determinedly.
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Tuor was waiting for them in the Quartermaster’s office at the old shipyard. He had stopped all work from recommencing at the site on realising the deceit, and those disembarking from Dol Amroth could see streams of men and women working their way around the cliff face looking for any hidden entrances. Assa went straight to Tuor for the full explanation without any formal greeting. He too was in no mood for polite formalities.
‘We have found no hidden entrance to the caves in these cliffs so far. Since I sent for you, I have had all the men and women I can spare examining every inch of the cliff face starting from the stream of Cereth to here, but I fear the treasure was here all the time, under this very building, of that I am now almost sure. We found two of the four guards we left with Turambar dead an hour ago, down in the cellars shoved into a crate. The bastards probably moved the hoard during the night onto one of the supply ships which had been supposed to head back to Umbar the day before. It was reported to have sprung a leak, so it was kept on the dry dock next door while they fixed it and it left at dawn with the tide before the dwarf chain was placed across the harbour entrance. It was the last ship out. It was only checked by Turambar and his men, the majority of the guards having been moved to monitor the cliffs. They haven’t been seen since, everyone was at the celebrations.’ Tuor was furious with himself for having been so easily duped.
He shook his head in frustration, ‘Hannemor must have come here before the battle of Pelargir, as Assa’s informants had said. This shipyard had not been used for decades until my crew sailed in during the Battle of Pelargir. It was the most obvious hiding place with hindsight. It had been completely abandoned and had a reputation as an evil place where the spirits of the dead would take you if you wandered too close.’
‘They were not evil spirits who came here, Tuor,’ Assa said dismissively. ‘You know this. Bad men came here, I saw them. This was where they left to cross to South Ithilien, to go to the deserted old mill. I know that now. I didn’t know then where they were leaving for, I could never follow them. They were too careful, and their boats had no hiding place for me. I once tried to swim after them, but they were too fast and the currents too strong.’
‘What happened exactly, Tuor? You had a spy embedded with the man you believe was Hannemor. Turambar. How exactly do you know him? What more can you tell us about him?’ Gallend asked.
‘As I wrote to you and Faramir, he fought with me at the Battle of Pelargir. He comes from Calembel. He had been sent by Lord Angbor to stay behind and help secure Pelargir after they left overland for Minas Tirith when the Army of the Dead overran the Corsair fleet and Aragorn left for Harlond. It was just as well he did as a force of Astari arrived at the Citadel just behind him and he proved a most able fighter against them.’
‘Did you have his identity confirmed by Lord Angbor himself?’ Gallend asked.
‘No. There seemed no need. He had proved his worth. Having fully secured Pelargir, I left straight to Umbar to aid Ottakar, and I didn’t see Turambar again until he showed up here over a month ago.’
Hadán had been pensive and spoke up reluctantly, ‘At what point of the battle did this Turambar prove himself? It was a much-used tactic in Sennebar to have a spy embedded in a position of trust, who would wait until victory was clear before revealing their treachery. Is it possible that this man could have arrived with the Astari, pretending to fight for you but in reality, it was he who led them to you, and it was only because your men turned up as the Astari attacked that he decided to stay his hand against you?’
Tuor thought back and it was clear from his expression that Hadán’s words rang true.
‘Damn him. I fear, you are right, Hadán. Thinking about it, it was only as my men burst through to the section of the battlements where we were fighting that he turned on the Astari. They had indeed seemed surprised…’
‘Can you describe him to us?’ Gallend interrupted.
‘Easily, he is quite striking. He had a deep scar over his left eye and on his upper neckline, an injury he incurred fighting some raiders on a visit to Elfhaven ten years ago, he told me.’
Gallend gave a frustrated sigh, ‘Did he have a cleft chin too?’
Tuor gave him an intense stare, not wanting to answer. ‘He did. Who do you think he is?’
‘My cousin, Herumor, or my half-brother, we are not sure which, although I believe he is more likely to be the latter,’ Galador answered.
Erchirion had been silent throughout this exchange but suddenly he heaved a loud groan as though just understanding something important. ‘The man I saw with Lothíriel, when it wasn’t Lothíriel, the one I thought I saw her screwing on the battlements, the night before Vandan was killed. He also had a scar over his left eye. Lothíriel, I mean, the woman pretending to be Lothíriel, most likely Amedlan, had her back to me, but I saw him very clearly. As you say, cleft chin, good-looking excepting the scar over his left eye. I could swear he looked straight at me. He knew I was there…’ Erchirion was clearly disturbed by the memory. Galador looked at him in pity.
‘Welcome to my family, Erchirion…’ he said bitterly.
‘They are not your family, Galador,’ Assa suddenly piped up fiercely. ‘Any more than my father and Hadán’s father was our family. He was an evil bastard, just like the rest of them who lost their way, who were too weak to stand up for others, too weak to be brave. You, you have been brave, braver than any of us here... except Hadán. I want you as one of my family and I would be proud to call you such.’
Somewhat stunned by her outburst, as were all those present, especially Gallend, Galador found himself close to tears when she came up to him and with some difficulty, made herself hug him.
‘I won’t let them hurt you anymore. I told you that sixteen years ago and I am sorry that I failed you. These men, they take children and they… and they… We must find them. We will find them.’ She said the words they all felt, and her determination ripped through them.
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‘Well done, Father. We are free at last,’ said Herumor in amusement to Hannemor, who was looking a little more relaxed since they had anchored next to the larger sailing ship which had been waiting for them off the coast of Anfalas, halfway from Dol Amroth and the spur of Andrast.
‘We should lay low, Herumor. We cannot stay in the South, not for a while, but Dale is booming again. We are not known there. He won’t find us there… I know this coastline. There is a cave we could use to hide much of the treasure until we need it and bring it gradually into Dale. We can start again.’
‘Of course, Father,’ Herumor agreed. ‘We could do that, but we won’t,’ he continued blithely, as the two guards from Pelargir came up behind Hannemor, grabbed his arms behind him and bound them tightly with chains. ‘He will always find us, because I will always tell him where we are.’
Hannemor looked at his son first in incomprehension and then in horror. ‘Herumor, do you not understand what he is? He will not reward your loyalty. Don’t be a fool. I am your father…’ he screamed.
‘No, you are not. You are my uncle. Belegond is my father. You never knew that, did you? You were always too caught up in trying to please your own father, and then your sister, and then Turallien, to notice that your brother was fucking your wife. She despised you. Mother despised you. She told me the truth about you all. She had never wanted to be married off to you. She only had eyes for your far more handsome brother, only to lose him to Melian. Ha, Mother had not taken that well…’
‘That cannot be true. But you and Amedlan, that would make her your sister. She did everything for you. I thought you two would eventually get married. This cannot be true. You do not know what you are saying. He has poisoned your mind. This is what he does. I helped kill my own father for him, because he persuaded me. Don’t fall into his lies. He is evil.’
‘I know he is, Uncle. I quite like that. At least he is not pretending to be something he is not. At least not to me. It was a shame about Amedlan though. She was a rather enthusiastic fuck and she had quite interesting tastes. She had been so pleased to see me. Turallien less so, but I gave her hope. She betrayed you and Belegond as soon as we turned up. He let me have her one last time, but she had to be sacrificed. She knew too much about us. As do you…’ Herumor turned to greet the party arriving on deck from the larger sailing ship.
‘Hello Turallien. As you see, I have all in order…’
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Margelith arrived in Pelargir to a despondent welcome. Galador gave her a heartfelt hug and sat her down to give her the very unwelcome news of their supposition. He asked her to do a sketch of both Turambar and her cousin Herumor, whom she had met at the same time her mother and uncle had bought the property in Calembel from Turambar’s family. Herumor had accompanied Hannemor to examine the property, as she had her mother. Galador’s heart sank even further when he showed both drawings to Tuor who confirmed that while Margelith’s Turambar bore some resemblance to the man he had known as such, her sketch of Herumor was without doubt the man he had met, excepting the addition of a scar over the eye.
Assa had asked for a second sketch of both men and said she would send men to Calembel to make enquiries from Lord Angbor, but she was sure, she typically surmised out loud, that the real Turambar was already dead, killed most likely by Herumor with the rest of his family so he could assume his identity. Distraught, Margelith clung to Galador sobbing.
Galador turned to his friends, those he considered his real family. ‘Turallien, Melian, Cirion and possibly even Herumor’s mother. Her name was Sylvennan. My mother never talked about her family, never. It was as though she sprung from the ground as an adult, fully formed. She never spoke about her life before marrying Father. We know nothing about any of them, these four. Unlike Hannedriel, Mother had no fear of the one who gave her orders, nor did Amedlan. Amedlan was close to Cirion as soon as he arrived, to the point I had wondered if she had been having an affair with him as well as with Herumor…’
‘You mean they are a family, these four? Brothers and sisters? Cirion was your uncle?’ Gallend speculated but with increasing conviction that Galador was right. Galador looked miserable as he accepted that the evil in his blood relatives went beyond his worst imaginings.
‘Mother’s hatred of your family, Erchirion, was deep to the point of madness. This she passed on to Amedlan. There were two men in the room with Hannedriel when I overheard her telling them of the incident with Denethor and Amahlia when I was a child, of why she had so much power over him. She had known one of them very well. I am almost sure now that was Turallien. He said something strange, something I didn’t understand at the time. He said, I will have my vengeance on the House of Dol Amroth, and even get paid well for it. He said something about a vow he made to his mother to make Adrahil’s spawn suffer.’
‘Hannedriel,’ Tuor said, bitterly. ‘She is still the key to this. I want her broken, Assa. Take me to her, but Gallend, Hadán, I will need you to make sure I don’t kill her.’