In Darkness Bound by Fiondil

---

Chapter 114: A Collision of Fates

---

114: A Collision of Fates

Warning: Character death.

****

Ingalaurë turned to Tamurilon as they approached the main door of the manor. "Untie him," he shouted above the storm. Tamurilon took out a knife and slipped it between Ingoldo’s wrists and cut his bonds, letting the strands of rope fall to the ground. Ingoldo rubbed his wrists, giving his nephew an evil look. At least, that’s what it seemed like to Ingalaurë. The storm was not as fierce as before but rain still fell and there was still lightning and thunder about. Ingalaurë grabbed Ingoldo by an arm and pulled him to stand before the door. "Do not do anything foolish, Uncle," he said in Ingoldo’s ear, and to stress his point, he drew out his own knife and let the point rest in the small of his uncle’s back, giving him a slight poke to let him know what he was about. Ingoldo turned and sneered.

"You don’t have the guts."

"You don’t know what I have, Uncle," the ellon retorted. "Sérener, if he even moves wrong, you know what to do."

The guard nodded, looking grim. Ingoldo stared at him for a moment, then looked away and raised a hand to pound on the door. "Open!" he shouted. "Open up, you laggards. Am I to stand out here in the rain while you are warm before a fire?" The irritation was not at all feigned and Ingalaurë was feeling the same, just wanting to get inside away from the storm.

After what seemed like forever, the door slowly opened to reveal an ellon peering suspiciously at them, a lantern in his hands. Ingoldo moved forward. "About time. I’m practically drowning out here and you just take your sweet time opening the door. Well? What are you doing standing there? Let us in, you fool."

The ellon’s eyes widened as he recognized who was standing before him and hastily stepped aside, allowing them all to enter. Ingalaurë ignored the man stammering out an apology to Ingoldo as he slipped his knife back into it sheath and pulled back the hood of his cloak to gaze about with interest. They were in a narrow hall that rose to the second floor. A staircase went up on their right to a landing that led to the left. There was a doorway on their right leading into what appeared to be a drawing room. Another door on the left led into a smaller room where Ingalaurë could see small tables set up for games. The hall went back a bit and a third door, this one closed, led perhaps to kitchens and such. The walls were paneled half-way up and frescoes adorned the rest of the walls. Ingalaurë peered at them in the uncertain light of their lanterns, for the candelabrum hanging above them was unlit, and saw that they depicted a harvest scene with people dancing and singing as sheaves of wheat were being collected. Above the landing, in place of honor, was Lady Yavanna giving her blessing. Ingalaurë suspected that the good lady of the manor was a devotee of the Earth-Queen.

He tore his attention away from the frescoes and concentrated on what Ingoldo was saying to the guard, stilling any impatience at the delay in finding his ammë and Indil.

"....nephew wished to visit with the queen and his sister," Ingoldo said just as they had rehearsed.

The guard gave them a disbelieving look. "In this storm, my lord?"

"Well, it wasn’t storming when we set out from Vanyamar," Ingoldo said scathingly and Ingalaurë couldn’t help but grin at the abject look on the guard’s face.

"Yes, my lord. Of course," the hapless ellon apologized. "Perhaps you would like to... um... dry out first before...."

"No," Ingalaurë intervened. "I would prefer to see them now." He gave Ingoldo a significant look. "You promised, Uncle." He put just the right amount of wheedling into his words, as if he were an elfling fearing the treat that had been promised would now be denied. He hated the smirk on the guard’s face and wanted to wipe it off, but he forced himself to stay in the role of a disappointed elfling. "You said I could see them as soon as we arrived."

"So I did, Nephew, so I did," Ingoldo replied with a nod. He turned to the guard. "I assume your fellows are guarding the ladies, Lemenyon? I believe you have them in Lady Ancalimë’s bedroom, do you not?"

Ingalaurë was not sure what the expression on the guard’s face meant, but the ellon simply nodded. "Yes. If you would follow me, my lords." He made his way towards the back door.

"Wait!" Ingalaurë exclaimed. "Where are you going? Should we not use the stairs?"

Lemenyon shook his head. "Lady Ancalimë’s suite cannot be gotten to from the main stairs," he explained. "We must take the back stairs into the tower instead."

Ingalaurë gave him and Ingoldo a suspicious look. Ingoldo, for his part, simply shrugged. "Ancalimë is a bit... eccentric," was all he said.

Ingalaurë looked to Tamurilon and Sérener to gauge their reactions, but both ellyn just shrugged, neither of them any wiser than he about the layout of the house. Ingalaurë nodded reluctantly. "Lead on, then," he said to the guard and then he leaned close to Ingoldo to whisper in his ear. "Do not play false with me, Uncle. You will not enjoy the consequences."

Ingoldo, for his part, kept his expression neutral and his eyes forward and refused to acknowledge Ingalaurë’s threat. Ingalaurë looked back to see Tamurilon and Sérener following, the latter with a hand on the pommel of his knife, apparently ready to use it if necessary. Ingalaurë felt immeasurably better for the ellon’s presence.

Beyond the door they found themselves in a short hallway. "Kitchens are that way," Lemenyon said rather unnecessarily to Ingalaurë’s mind, as if he were giving them a guided tour. The ellon was pointing to another door opposite the one they had just come through. "And Lady Ancalimë’s suite is this way." He now led them to the left down another hall that turned to the right after about twenty paces and then they found themselves before a spiral staircase. Without a word, Lemenyon started up and Ingoldo followed with Ingalaurë on his heels. Something didn’t feel right to him, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Some niggling part of him was screaming that this was a trap, but he could not see how that could be. He suddenly wondered at the wisdom of coming here alone with only Tam and Sérener to aid him. How many guards were there? Why did only one come to the door? Surely the fellow would have had at least one other with him in case of trouble, and yet, he appeared to be alone. And if Ammë and Indil were indeed locked up in Lady Ancalimë’s suite, did they all need to be guarding it? And then there was the matter of Lady Ancalimë herself. What role, if any, did she play in all this?

His thoughts were interrupted when they came to the first landing and the guard stepped off the stairs and waited for them. Sérener was the last to join them. Lemenyon turned away and led them along a short hallway with two wide embrasures that angled out, forming alcoves where one could sit and look out. Ingalaurë suspected that they overlooked a garden but it was impossible to see anything for the storm still raging outside. A bolt of lightning brightened the sky just then and thunder rumbled a few short seconds later. Beyond the gallery was another door. This one was locked, for the guard took out a set of keys and, after fumbling for a moment, found the right one and opened the door, stepping to one side.

"The ladies are inside," he said.

Ingalaurë started to take a step forward but Tamurilon stayed him with a hand on his shoulders. "Where are the other guards?" he asked, looking not at Lemenyon, but at Ingoldo.

"And how many are there?" Sérener added, looking suspicious.

Ingoldo shrugged, looking unconcerned. "You wanted to see your amillë and Indil," he said pointedly. "Well, they are within." He gestured at the open door.

Ingalaurë tried to see what was beyond the door but there did not appear to be any light. He glared at Ingoldo and Lemenyon. "What game is this, Uncle?" he demanded. "You promised me I could see Ammë and Indil."

"And I always keep my word," Ingoldo retorted. "Now are you going to just stand out here and argue? I for one would like nothing better than to find a hot bath and dry clothes. You wanted to come here, Nephew. Well, here you are." He gestured towards the door.

"Why are there no lights and I would think that at least one of the ladies would have come to see what the fuss was all about," Tamurilon said.

"They know better than that," Lemenyon replied with a smirk. "This is the outer sitting room, but there is a smaller one before you reach the bedroom. The ladies have learned to remove themselves from the outer sitting room when they hear the door being unlocked."

The way he said this sent ice through Ingalaurë’s veins, wondering in what manner his ammë and Indil had been ‘taught’.

"Make up your mind, Ingil," Ingoldo said with a sneer. "I’m not standing here all day."

Ingalaurë glanced at Tamurilon who shook his head. Sérener merely scowled, obviously not liking the situation at all. Ingalaurë did not blame him. He didn’t like it either. Then he looked at Tamurilon again, careful to keep his face away from Ingoldo or Lemenyon, giving his friend a slow wink as he spoke. "Very well, Uncle. I do want to see Ammë and Indil and, like you, I do want a hot bath and dry clothes." He turned and stepped to the door, standing next to Lemenyon. "Ammë? Indil? Are you there? It’s Ingil," he called out and then, before anyone knew what he was about, he grabbed the guard in one fluid motion and pushed him through the doorway. He had just time to see something metallic flash and Lemenyon screamed and then complete chaos reigned as Ingoldo suddenly pushed Ingalaurë aside and ran back the way they had come.

"Ingil!" Tamurilon shouted in warning even as an ellon armed with a knife came out of the room, ready to attack. Ingalaurë had the presence of mind to kick him as he scrambled out of the way. The ellon screamed as a kneecap shattered and he went down.

"It’s a trap!" Ingalaurë cried unnecessarily as he allowed Tamurilon to help him up.

By now two more ellyn were exiting the room, one of them wielding a spear. Sérener was already engaged with them, coming up underneath their guard. In the narrow confines of the gallery there was little room for maneuvering. Tamurilon began to pull Ingalaurë out of the way.

"No!" Ingalaurë shouted,. "You help Sérener and find Ammë. I’m going after Ingoldo." Without waiting to see if his friend complied with his orders, he ran back down the gallery after Ingoldo, silently cursing himself for a fool and wondering how they knew to set a trap so quickly. He reached the staircase and hesitated, unsure in which direction he should go, up or down. Then a noise from above sent him racing up the stairs.

"Damn you, Uncle!" he shouted. "I’ll make you regret this if it’s the last thing I do."

Somewhere lightning flashed and thunder rolled as he continued to pursue his uncle, unaware that Nornoros was anxiously watching him.

****

Ingwë swung down from his horse as he and the others reached the manor house and quietly gave orders for two of the guards to take the horses to the stables.

"I believe if you go down this alley to the left," Valandur told them, "you’ll find the stables on the other side of that arch."

Ingwë nodded his thanks to Valandur and then spoke to the guards. "See them dried and fed, and stay with them so they are not spooked by the storm."

The guards nodded their understanding and led the horses away. Ingwë motioned to the other guards. "Stay alert. I want two of you to stand guard here at the door. The rest follow me." With that he led them to the door and, without bothering to knock, tried the knob. It would not turn. He motioned to the guards. "Break it down," he ordered and stepped aside. A couple of the men rushed off to find something with which to break down the door while the others stood miserably about. Ingwion wanted to scream that it was taking too long, that they were already too late, but he didn’t. He stood there and stewed, his anger warming him against the coldness of the rain beating down on them. Then, he snarled an oath and turned to his atar.

"I’m going to see if there is another way in," he said. Without waiting to hear what Ingwë had to say, he strode off to the right, meaning to make his way around to the back of the house. He felt someone come up behind him and turned to see Intarion with him, giving him a grin.

"Uncle’s orders," he said. "No one wanders about alone."

Ingwion nodded and continued on his way with Intarion beside him. "There’s bound to be an open area where we can get inside," he opined and Intarion nodded.

They had come two-thirds around to the back, working their way through a small herb garden when Intarion stopped and pointed. "Look! That may be our way in."

Ingwion looked and saw a gated archway. The two of them went over and tried the gate, finding it locked. Intarion tapped Ingwion on the shoulder and pointed to his right where they saw a key hanging on the inside wall. Ingwion reached through the wrought-iron bars for it but it was just not close enough. He threw his head back and sighed in defeat, but then noticed that the gate did not go all the way to the top of the arch. He pointed up. "We might be able to climb over," he said and before Intarion could answer he began pulling himself up. The space between the gate and the arch was not as wide as he had hoped and it would be a very tight squeeze, but with a little maneuvering he might be able to do it. He clung to the gate with one hand and awkwardly removed his sword belt, carefully lowering it to Intarion before attempting to climb over. As he feared it was a very tight squeeze and for a moment or two he feared he would be stuck, but then he was on the other side and climbing back down.

A moment later he was opening the gate and Intarion handed him his sword. "Should we go tell the others?" he asked.

Ingwion shook is head. "No time for that. Let’s see if we can find my brother."

"Do you think he and Atar are here?" Intarion asked as they walked away from the gate, passing through an arcade to find themselves entering an inner courtyard. They stopped for a moment to look around. By now the storm seemed to have moved on, for the rain was falling more gently and they could see stars through rents in the clouds when they looked up. The courtyard was large, perhaps 100 paces across, and flagged with marble. A small fountain stood in its center. On their left was a set of three open arches, obviously leading into the rest of the manor. Behind them they saw that there was only the one arched opening leading out to the herb garden. The other two sides of the courtyard had no entrances but had stone benches built into them. Rising three floors above them, along three sides, were galleries. They were open to the air with decorative marble arches holding up their roofs. There were no railings. On the fourth side rose the square tower they had seen on their approach, rising another two floors above the top gallery.

"They had a head start," Ingwion said, answering Intarion’s question, "and even walking, they should have gotten here before us in spite of the storm. Come on. We might run into Atto anyway. I’m sure he’s gotten the front door open by now."

As they made their way back towards the front of the house, they could hear the dull thud of something heavy banging against wood. Ingwion cast an amused grin at Intarion who grinned back, realizing what his cousin found so funny. They followed the sound and were soon passing through a drawing room to find themselves in the central hallway. Ingwion took a moment to take in the frescoes before going to the door that was beginning to splinter. They could see that it had been bolted.

"All right! All right! I’m coming! I’m coming!" he called out, feigning annoyance, and the pounding stopped. He pushed back the bolt and threw open the door to find his atar standing to one side with Arafinwë while Eccaldamos and Valandur were standing on the other side and between them were the guards hauling a thick piece of wood that they had been using as a battering ram. They all stared at him and Intarion with various degrees of surprise and annoyance. Ingwion grinned unrepentantly. "No need to break the door down," he said. "I would have gotten here eventually."

Ingwion watched as his atar and Arafinwë exchanged looks he could not quite interpret and then the High King shook his head and gestured for the guards to follow him. Ingwion and Intarion stepped aside to let everyone else in.

"So which way do you think we should go?" Arafinwë asked, once they were all inside, everyone staring about.

"Well, Intarion and I came here from that direction," Ingwion said, pointing to the drawing room on the right. "We found an arcade that led into an inner courtyard, then made our way down a hall and through three rooms. We followed the sound of the pounding."

"It seems very quiet," Valandur ventured. His words were contradicted by the rumbling of thunder overhead and he grinned at the expressions on everyone else’s faces. "I meant, it seems very quiet inside. All that pounding should have alerted someone."

Ingwë nodded. "Spread out," he ordered the guards. "Let’s see where everyone...."

Even as he was speaking, there was the muffled sound of shouting from somewhere above them.

"That sounded like Ingil," he exclaimed and, drawing out his sword, he took the stairs two at a time.

"Ingwion, wait!" he heard his atar cry but paid no heed. He reached the landing and ran to the door that closed off the upper areas of the manor from the ground floor, swinging it open, calling, "I’m coming, Ingil! I’m coming!", unaware that Olórin was there with him.

****

Ingalaurë paused for a second, thinking he’d heard his brother calling his name, then shook his head angrily, for there was no way Ingwion could be there. Yet, what if he were? Should he wait for him? Go find him and leave Ingoldo for others to deal with? He hesitated, almost ready to turn around and go search for his brother, but then the thought of his uncle made him grimace and his anger rose again. Snarling an oath he continued climbing.

****

Nornoros wanted to scream. He’d been so close to convincing Ingalaurë to turn around, to not pursue Ingoldo but go in search of his brother and atar and let them deal with the ellon. He’d almost succeeded, he knew he had, but at the last moment he could see the child’s thoughts shying away and focusing on Ingoldo. And now, how was he to persuade the ellon not to confront his uncle alone? He was about to clothe himself, hoping the sight of him would deter the ellon when he felt an irresistible pull and before he realized what was happening, he found himself on the parapet of the manor’s tower, facing the dread Lord of Mandos.

*No, child,* Námo bespoke him. *You cannot interfere with what must be.*

*He’s so young!* Nornoros cried desperately, his blue-green and purple aura shifting into the ultraviolet in his distress.

*They are all of them very young, even Ingwë,* Námo stated, *but that is neither here nor there. The pieces are in play and we cannot change the course of the game. Ingalaurë comes to me, just as Lemenyon has, though I did not foresee that. Do you understand, Nornoros? The free-will of the Children make it too difficult to accurately predict what will happen. Any interference on our part can make matters worse.*

*Or better,* the Maia retorted, though his tone was more sorrowful than angry.

Námo nodded in acknowledgment. *Yet, only Atar can see all the strands at once. Our powers are great, but even so, we are too blind to see it all clearly and we are in as much danger of blundering in the dark as the Children, but when we blunder the consequences for us all may be too horrific to comprehend.*

*Then, what’s the point?* Nornoros cried. *Why do we even bother?*

He could almost sense the smile in the Vala’s answer. *The point, child, is to learn.*

Nornoros was not sure how to respond to that but he had no chance, for just then they heard a commotion and Vala and Maia could ‘see’ Ingoldo emerging onto the uppermost gallery from the tower. Ingalaurë was right at his heels and made to grab him but Ingoldo kicked him, sending him flying backward, though he recovered soon enough. Ingoldo rounded the gallery, so now he was opposite the tower. Ingalaurë was right behind him.

"No!" the ellon cried. "I won’t let you get away this time, Uncle."

Ingalaurë leaped at Ingoldo, tackling him and bringing them both down, and they began to wrestle. Ingoldo managed to squirm out of Ingalaurë’s hold and they both rose to their feet, catching their breaths, glaring at one another.

"I won’t let you win, Uncle," Ingalaurë panted. "I won’t." And with a wordless cry he leaped at Ingoldo again but his uncle side-stepped him and he found himself on the edge, desperately trying to grab hold of one of the columns forming part of the arch.

"Ingil, no!" he heard someone yell, and perhaps it was Ingoldo or some other, but he never knew, for at that moment he lost his balance completely and with a scream he fell.