Pitfalls of the Palantir

Inglor lay upon his bed in the close, stinking air of his cabin and worried about Haleth. He knew very well that the she had survived long years without him, but events of the recent past showed that she was vulernable and did, on occasion, require help. Even if she did have to be unconscious before being willing to accept it. There was something strange about all of this. He resolved to get to the bottom of it, literally. He was going to visit Haleth.


Haleth descended the ladder that led from the main deck to the cargo area. There was almost completely dark amid the stacks of crates and barrels. There were several small lamps suspended from the crossbeams. The small, dim circles of light they shed illuminated only a tiny area of the hold. The rest remained an inky pit of oblivion.

She reached the bottom of the ladder and peered into the surrounding blackness, waiting for the crewmen to make a comment like 'And stay down here!'. They remained disappointingly silent, climbing back up the ladder without a word. The hatch swung closed, blocking the small square of stars that hung so far above her.

'They could at least have allowed me to retrieve my pack,' she thought to herself and then realised that most of its contents would have been ruined in the fire.

She knew that she had not deliberately set that fire and that she had extinguished the lamp before leaving her cabin. Someone else had deliberately set the fire to implicate her. She needed to find a relatively safe place to station herself so that she could think through the situation.

She inspected the visible cargo. The boxes were piled above her head, but there seemed to be plenty of space between the top of the stack and the ceiling of the hold. Without further hesitation, she scaled the crates.

The hold provided a slightly different picture from the top of the cargo. It appeared to be an uneven, cracked, wooden floor of various sized tiles. The lamps shed more light up here, closer to their tiny flames.

Haleth picked her way towards one of the next lamps, wondering if anyone else were in the hold with her. If Dorlas had left lamps lit, there had to be someone. That theoretical someone could remain hidden in the blackness for quite some time, secretly watching her movements.

There was one particularly tall stack of boxes to the right. Moving like a cat, she made her way to the topmost box. The deep shadows betrayed no sign of current occupation. This would be where she would make her bed, at least for the rest of the night. Hopefully someone would bring her some water, food and blankets tomorrow. She seated herself on the hard, wooden box and began to think.

She had not set the fire, the lamp had been out when she had left the room. The only possible explanation was that someone else had set the fire. Who could that possibly have been and why would they have done it? If they had actively been attempting to burn the boat, they had chosen a particularly bad place to begin their arson. A fire in the hold would not have been noticed nearly as quickly as a fire in the passenger's compartments. It was possible that the fire had only been a distraction. But a distraction for what? And why in Haleth's locked cabin? No, her cabin had been deliberately chosen.

So what had the arsonist hoped to accomplish? Haleth surveyed the part of the hold that she could see from her perch and listened intently to the creaking of the cargo and the whispering skittering of small, unseen animals.

Who would deliberately target Haleth? She carried nothing of value. Why have her thrown off the boat?

A dark possibility reared up from her subconscious; if Ethirwen had wanted to be rid of Haleth as a potential rival, that would be one way to do it. Except that Ethirwen had convinced Captain Dorlas to not put Haleth ashore, so that could not be right either. She felt relieved in dismissing this particular possibility as she genuinely like Ethirwen and wanted to believe the best of her.

It was possible that one of the Hosluin was attempting to slow their progress by having Haleth thrown off the boat. But why have her thrown off the boat when it would be so much easier to simply kill her? Come to think of it, it would be relatively easy to murder someone in the hold.

Her eyes darted around the dark spaces. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She had to stop trying to frighten herself. She had thought she had seen a figure descending the ladder.

Haleth strained her ears all the harder, but still the only thing audible was the scraping of small claws on wood.

Even if the Hosluin killed her, that would still leave Inglor. For all that she knew how to deal with men, Haleth knew that in a flat out battle, Inglor would be far more formidable a foe than her. So why try to kill her when it would be so much more effective to kill Inglor?

Unless the plan actually had been to have her put ashore, in which case Inglor undoubtedly would have gone as well. Once ashore, it would be a simple matter for two travellers to vanish. Haleth had seen Inglor fight on several occassions and knew that he possessed much strength and skill, but she doubted that he could win against a large group of men who were determined to see him dead. If that was the case, they both owed Ethirwen a great deal for interceding on Haleth's behalf.

She caught herself twisting the silver ring again. The idea of someone trying to murder Inglor made her far more angry than the thought of someone trying to kill her.

If one of the Hosluin was aboard the boat, they would have to find him and expose him before he made his next move. But who could it possibly be? Haleth thought of the man she had seen glaring at Inglor their first day on the boat. She had watched for him, but had not seen him since. She was searching her memory for any outstanding details about him when a hand suddenly appeared over the edge of her crate.

Haleth's knife whispered a death song as she drew it from its sheath. She held the blade low, ready to stab upwards at the face her hunter, when Inglor's familiar blond head cleared the top of the crate.

"Hello, Haleth," he said quietly.

"Good evening, Inglor," she said pleasantly after taking a long blink to steady herself.

"I thought I asked you to not come down here," she added as she sheathed her knife.

"You did," Inglor agreed, "But it's the middle of the night and the only other woman on the boat is Ethirwen and she is likely asleep so it seemed fairly safe."

"I don't know," Haleth whispered doubtfully. "I don't believe the Captain would be at all happy to know that you are here."

"What he does not know will not hurt us," Inglor shrugged.

He smiled at the skeptical expression on Haleth's face. "What?"

"You've got to stop spending so much time around humans," she observed. "You're beginning to pick up our speech patterns, and worse, our facial expressions."

Inglor mimicked the look on Haleth's face to perfection and they both laughed quietly.

"I brought you a few things," he said. He handed her a small bag. Inside was a flask and dried fruit.

"You have my most grateful thanks, most thoughtful elf!" Haleth said, who had been becoming rather thirsty.

"Now who is taken on the mannerisms of the other kindred?" he asked.

"Oh come now, we Second Born know courtesy, we simply chose not to practise it most of the time," Haleth said, opening the flask and taking a quick sip. She offered it to Inglor, who shook his head.

He looked around the hold. "I think it would be better if we moved over there." He pointed to a completely dark area of the hold, far from the dim circles of light thrown by the lamps.

"Are you certain?" Haleth asked him as she peered doubtfully into the utter darkness.

"You're too visible here," he answered. Without waiting for her to argue, he picked up the sack he brought and gracefully leapt downwards to the next crate.

Haleth followed him over the uneven wooden paving of the cargo. It quickly became almost impossible for her to see and she found herself isolated in the soft blackness, trying to follow Inglor using her hearing rather than her sight. This also proved hopeless as the elf made no discernable sound. Only faint air currents told of his passing, and these quickly dissipated in the stale air of the hold.

Moving by guesswork, Haleth soon found her foot in thin air rather on wood. She had to literally throw herself backwards to keep from falling. A strong, steady hand caught her at the elbow before she could tumble backwards.

"I can't see," she whispered.

"I will guide you." The words seemed to appear in her mind without having passed either Inglor's lips or Haleth's ears.

A strong arm snaked around her waist. Haleth had to force herself to relax at Inglor's touch as he drew her against his side. She quickly looked downwards and away from him to hide her face while she regained her composure. Inglor had the most distracting way of helping that Haleth could possibly imagine.

Whether it was another elven talent or because they had been together for long years of wandering, Haleth now found it quite easy to judge each step or leap without benefit of her eyes. It was unsettling and yet pleasant to be jumping through the utter blackness, trusting herself entirely to Inglor's senses. It was an unpleasant shock when he stopped and withdrew his arm, releasing her.

"It's safe to sit down," he whispered.

She slowly lowered herself until she was seated on top of the crate.

"Wait here. I'm going to look around," he whispered.

"Just let me know when you get back," she replied, thinking of her knives.

She waited in the darkness, watching the triple circles of light for any sign of movement and listening intently for any out of place sound.

"I am returning," a soft voice said in her mind. She sensed the air currents that heralded his movement rather than actually hearing him.

"Did you find anything?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Someone has set up a small home for himself among the crates just beyond the reach of the lamps. Whoever it is, he's not home at the moment. I don't need to tell you that you'll have to watch for him."

"There is something most strange about the fire," Inglor suddenly changed the subject.

"There certainly is," Haleth agreed.

In hushed voices they spent most of the remainder of the night discussing possible reasons behind the suspicious fire. Haleth shared all of her theories except for the one which involved Ethirwen. Once she has realised that Ethirwen may very well have saved her and Inglor from a plot of the Hosluin, she was far too ashamed to mention her suspicions.

Inglor seemed to agree that the Hosluin were behind the arson and that the mysterious stranger was most likely their agent. There was nothing they could do in the present circumstances except to watch carefully.

"Should we take Ethirwen into our confidence?" Haleth asked at one point.

"No," Inglor said quickly.

"It's far too dangerous," he explained at her startled silence. "It's bad enough having to worry about one woman without having to worry about two."

"I can look after myself," Haleth said automatically while simultaneously wrestling with the green-eyed monster.

"I know you can," he agreed pleasantly. "I simply intend to help you."

Haleth shook her head and chuckled. "Is there really any point in arguing about this?"

She could sense his grin, even in the dark.

"I didn't think so," she said, resigned.

"You'd better go," Haleth said suddenly. "You shouldn't be caught here."

"I'm not certain that would be wise," Inglor said quietly. "It would not be safe for you down here alone."

"If you mean that this man could kill me, you are right, but I doubt that he would bother. Someone from the crew will be bringing me food. If I were to die, it would only draw attention to the arsonist," Haleth said. "Besides. you're far the more dangerous of the two of us. They'll target you first."

"I would also be more difficult to kill," he said.

"All the more reason to kill you first," she insisted. "Besides, you can't stay down here all of the time and protect me. If both of us were confined, how would we ever catch this Hosluin?"

"You are right," he said with the characteristic mildness. "I should be going.

"Please, take this," he said, unclasping his cloak and placing it around her shoulders. It was light but warm. "No one should see it if you fold it and find a place for it during the day. It is too cold for you to sleep comfortably without some kind of covering."

She opened her mouth to protest and immediately closed it again. Some things were worth fighting over. This was not one of them. She did not want to spend another night contemplating her next apology.

"Thank-you," was all she said.

"Inglor?" she said as he made ready to leave.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I'm glad you came," she said, smiling.

"As am I," he answered. "Good night."

"Good night."