The Melody of Swords

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is Tolkien’s/Peter Jackson’s/New Line’s etc.

Chapter 1

In a relatively quiet street on the first level of Minas Tirith a young woman sat cross-legged on the grey paving stones. All her attention was focused on the lute that rested on her lap. Her left hand moved up and down the fretboard as her right hand plucked at the grey strings. Every now and then she would hear a quiet clank as a compassionate passer-by (or at least one that considered their pockets overly heavy for their comfort) dropped a coin into the small tin dish placed in front of where she sat.

Just before midday she heard something land with a dull thud among the coins. She looked up smiling.

“An apple is all I get for providing your stall for bucket loads of customers?” she said to the man standing above her. He was a few years younger than her with dark hair and eyes as black as coal. He wore lose-fitting clothes that were once blue but had now faded into greyish blue.

“I wouldn’t have any apples to give you if your ‘bucket loads’ of customers were real and not figments of your over-active imagination,” he said laughing lightly.

“You pity yourself too much, you’re not doing all that badly,” she said munching happily, “and anyway you’re losing customers standing here talking!” she said gesturing over to her right where a young woman was waiting at a small apple stall.

“Right you are!” he said grinning. “Will I have the immense pleasure of seeing you tonight?”

“Of course!” she called back. “Thanks for the apple!”

She finished her apple and threw the core at an old grey dog that was resting peacefully in a nearby doorway. It poked a grey muzzle up for a moment, eyed the core suspiciously and, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort, rested its head back on its front legs again. Resuming her task she pushed a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear and bent over her lute again and began to play. After having played through one of her favourite children’s tunes many times and not hearing a single coin come to land in her dish she gave up and decided that the people of Gondor were evidently not in a cheerful mood today. She switched to a more sombre melody. As usual with the songs she played it was half composed of old Gondorian folk tunes and half of her own improvisation.

She was about to decide that today the people of Gondor were neither happy nor sad but simply mean when she heard three clinks. She looked into her tin and saw three shinning gold coins. She stopped playing and looked up at the man who had given them. He had golden brown hair and dark eyes. He was tall and was dressed in light leather armour and a long sword hung at his hip. The girl recognised his face immediately – the eldest son of the steward.

“My lord is very generous,” she said and meant it, usually she would be lucky to earn the value of one of those coins a week. Suddenly she wondered if she should have stood up. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care.

“That’s a lovely song, albeit a little mournful considering today’s celebrations,” he said, sounding vaguely amused as one would at the mistakes of a small child. The girl mentally winced. Of course, the anniversary of the completion of the tower of Ecthelion.

“I apologise if I have offended you my Lord, but I do not choose the mood of my piece merely based on the day’s events,” she said uncertainly, praying that its didn’t sound rude.

“How do you decide on the mood of the pieces you play then?” he asked. The girl frowned, why wasn’t he gone by now? He was a Steward’s son! Didn’t he have papers to sign? Ceremonies to attend? Wars to fight?

“Well I play whatever brings in the most money,” she said shortly.

“Do you ever sing?” he asked. Now he had to be wasting time deliberately.

“Nay,” she answered “My voice is not good enough to do my lute justice I’m afraid, I would not risk it when I’m playing for money.” In her mind the girl prayed to every God she had ever heard of that he wouldn’t ask her to sing. It worked.

“When do you not play for money?” he asked.

“Among friends,” she replied simply. His keen eyes wandered over her for a moment. She wished that she had chosen a different grey dress this morning, her current one didn’t exactly hide the fact she didn’t always spend a lot of money on clothes.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Ri,” she answered automatically, “my lord,” she added for good measure.

“Just Ri?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. She nodded.

“Well, some people think it might be Riana… it’s a popular name here on the lower level… but it’s Ri.” He nodded.

“You play well Ri,” he said, gave a brief nod, then suddenly turned and left. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Was that Lord Boromir?” asked the young man who had given her an apple.

“Yes it was, Dalin, he thinks I’m good!” she said proudly.

“Show off,” said Dalin.

“I know,” she smirked. She got up and stretched her legs. “I’m off to see your sister,” she said collecting up her money and putting it in her pocket. She put the tin dish in a little bag she carried over her shoulder.

“Keen to be rid of such heavy coins already?” he asked jokingly.

“I am, of course!” she said, and after fondling ruffling his hair (which Dalin did not find particularly amusing) she set off up the street. After a ten-minute walk through the lowest level Ri entered a shop, descriptively named ‘Callie’s Clothes’.

“Ri dear!” exclaimed a woman a few years older than Ri with long ebony hair dark brown eyes. She enveloped Ri in a hug and kissed her cheek. Ri gave her a little smile. “I don’t suppose you know how my darling brother’s stall is doing, he owes me a fortune and says he has no money to pay it back- Ali! What did mama say about playing with the pins? You’ll push one right through one of your little fingers one day!” she said suddenly dragging a little brown-haired girl away from a box of sewing pins. The girl waved up at Ri, waved back. “So sorry, how can I help you?” she said turning her attention back to Riana.

“A new dress please, a dark colour not too tight, not too long either, remember it is summer-”

“Riana darling you are quite sure? You know you really should learn to sew for yourself…” began the shopkeeper but Ri reached in her pocket and took a single shinning gold coin. For a moment the shopkeeper’s small eyes widen in surprise, but quickly narrowed in suspicion, “Where did you find that?” asked Callie.

“Find it? It was given to me and by the eldest son of the steward no less!” grinned Ri.

“Lord Boromir? Well, well! The stars do seem to be aligning in your favour today!” said Callie looking impressed. Ri just smiled. “Well, then, dark didn’t you say?” she asked going over to a rack of dresses. “Now, there was a lovely one Ali and I were working on just yesterday… just your size, beautifully slim…” She said searching through the rack. Ri rolled her eyes.

“So this is the sort of talk the customers who pay in gold coins are fortunate enough to receive is it?” she asked.

“No, I speak truly when I say you are very thin, but you’re right, ‘thin’ is called ‘beautifully slim’ if you pay with gold,” she said flashing a smile. “Ah, here it is!” she proclaimed brandishing a dark blue dress made out of a light material. “As I said, perfect size,” she said contentedly, holding the dress up against Ri. “The cut around the chest is also smaller which suits your…” she search for the right word.

“Lack of a bosom, yes,” completed Ri.

“Indeed, well it’s fairly loose, as you said, perfect for summer, sleeves are slightly tighter but any looser would probably interfere with your instrument, the material is-”

“Thank you Callie, it’s perfect, I’ll take it,” Ri interrupted, smiling, saving Callie going through the usual sales banter. She handed over her gold coin.

“Thank you Ri dear, I’ll just find you some change for that…” she said and walked over to a little wooden box on a table near the wall. Putting the coin in she took out a few smaller silver coins and handed them to Ri. “Have a lovely time, I should be able to come tonight but it will all depend on the little one of course,” she said.

“I wanna go to the party!” exclaimed Ali, tugging on her mother’s skirt.

“If you’re a good girl from now till then we’ll see,” answered Callie peering down at her daughter. Ri crouched in front of the little girl.

“I heard you helped make my beautiful dress,” she said.

“I did the hem along the bottom!” she said proudly with a slight lisp.

“Well then, I’ll have to give you some money for it too won’t I?” she said and pressed a silver coin into Ali’s hand.

“You spoil that girl, no wonder she loves you!” chided Callie, giving Ri a disapproving look.

“The son of the steward spoilt me first!” she said and waving, she left the shop. Ri navigated the cobbled streets until she reached a quieter area of the level. She walked up to an old wooden door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

“Who is it?” came a croaky voice from inside.

“Its Ri, sir,” said Ri. She heard heavy footsteps from the other side of the door. The door eventually creaked open revealing an old man with a bent back, surrounded by a hazy mist of pipe smoke.

“You better have my money or else I’ll-” he grumbled but stopped immediately when he saw the gold coin. His eyes grew wide.

“What I owe you plus the rent for this week,” said Ri confidently, hoping her calculations were right, mathematics had never been her strong point.

“Well you’re a lucky girl, make sure you carry on being lucky or I’ll have you evicted before you can play the anthem of Gondor on that there lute of yours!” he said scowling and slammed the door. Sincerely hoping she would stay lucky she opened the door next to her landlord’s and collapsed on her bed.

About an hour later she woke up. She walked to the window of her little room, it was getting dark. She reached for her new dress and slipped into it. Callie had been right, it fitted her nicely. She plaited her hair down her back and let a few brown strands hang loose around her face before picking up her lute and setting off.

After a half and hour walk she arrived at the edge of the level where the city stopped and the mountain began. Not far up, there was an area dimly lit by torches and she began to hear the sound of singing and dancing. She reached a flatter grassy area.

“Ri!” a little voice squealed. It’s owner promptly grabbed onto Ri’s legs. She laughed.

“‘ello Ali!” she exclaimed.

“Our lutist arrives at last!” called a man of Ri’s age who sat with two small drums at the end of a little semicircle of musicians to the side of the dancers.

“Excuse me Ali, they’re dragging me over there,” she said to the little girl who was still attached to her legs. It had no effect. “And I want to see you dance!” she added. The girl let go and ran to a friend. Ri laughed went to sit down next to the man who had called her.

“Hello Sol,” she said in greeting.

“Like the dress,” he answered.

“New!” she said grinning as she tuned her instrument.

“I heard Boromir was very generous,”

“Lord Boromir, yes,” she said strumming through all the strings to check it was in tune.

“Getting protective now are we?” he asked sarcastically.

“He did give me three gold coins, you have to admit, the man is generous,” she said and began to pluck her strings in time to the rest of the band as she watched the dancing.

“Hmm,” was all the answer she got.

“Anyway, it’s a lovely night, let’s forget about it,” she said cheerfully and watched as Ali and her friend joined hands and spun round and round and round in front of her before collapsing in a dizzy heap. She laughed.

“The world’s spinning!” exclaimed Ali happily.

“You’ve had too much ale Ali!” laughed Sol.

“Where’s your Ma?” Ri called to her.

“She’s over there,” Ali gestured over to the general crowd of the party. “Dancing with Papa.”

“As long as she knows where you are,” Ri said. “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Bell, she’s a bit shy though,” said Ali putting an arm round her friend. Ri smiled at her and then for a while just concentrated on the music and watched the general swirling people, listened to the music mixing with laughter and knew in her heart that the lowest level was truly the best level.

After a while a name begun being shouted “Linia! Linia! Linia!” and eventually a young girl a few years younger than Ri came forward, dressed in a simple but flattering black dress. She was unusually fair by Gondorian standards with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. In Ri’s opinion, the best dancer in all Minas Tirith. Ri joined in the clapping with everyone else.

“Sol?” Linia asked and he nodded and got his drums ready. “Are you going to join us Ri?” she asked.

“I can’t keep up with you!” Ri protested “I can’t do accurate and in time you know that, and lets not even talk about the tempo Sol sets!”

“Please? If I promise to dance for your lute on the street some time?” asked Linia. Ri smiled.

“If I get my favourite fiddle to play next to me,” said Ri winking at an older lady who carried a fiddle.

“Well, if it’s the only way this will get started!” she said smiling kindly.

“Drums, a lute, a fiddle and Linia!” exclaimed someone. The people in the party who hadn’t already, crowded round the musicians with Linia ready in the centre, gathered round. Ali came and sat crossed-legged on the grass next to Ri. Sol beat out an introduction to give the tempo. Next in came Ri, trying to play in time to the beat. The fiddle came in next playing a fasted dotted folk-like melody, the old lady’s fingers moving surprisingly agilely over the fingerboard. Lastly Linia started dancing in her own improvised mixture of tap and a type of ballet. Soon everyone else was clapping and stamping along to the beat.

This carried on until Ri’s fingers were going red and Linia looked near to collapse. Sol slowed the music down until in came at last to a halt. After the last strum Ri had to rub her burning fingers but she was smiling. The musicians were applauded and then people started to drift home.

“Are you going back now?” asked Sol as he packed up his drums.

“Not just yet, I think I’ll stay for a while, play to the stars, you know?” she said. He smiled.

“I’ll never understand you Ri but have fun anyway and I’ll see you next time!” he said and walked off into the darkness with a slight limp. Ri shook her head, the drummer was one of the most accident prone people she had ever come across, you name it, Sol had found a new and unique way to fall down it or off it.

True to her word, Ri stayed alone for a while in dim light of the moon and stars simply enjoying the sound of her music in the stillness of the night. Playing to the stars… it was something that calmed her, concentrated her and centred her. The stars were and would always be the best audience of all – unjudging, peaceful and wise like eternal friends that lasted through the ages. From time to time she wondered if anyone had ever discovered this joy, just to hear silence and your own music rippling through the night.

When her brain was too tired to work and her hands too cold to move Ri got up to return to her little room. She stretched, took her lute and began to walk.

“Do you not think it is dangerous for a young lady such as yourself to wander the streets alone at night?” came a sudden deep voice. Ri jumped and stopped still in her tracks.

“Who is it?” she said cautiously, breathing hard.

“My apologies, I did not wish to startle you,” came the calm voice. Ri looked around, her eyes searched in the darkness until she saw a tall broad shouldered dark figure coming towards her.

“Well, making your presence known so suddenly when I believed myself to be alone didn’t particularly give that impression,” she said to the figure, sounding braver than she felt.

“Well then I apologise again, but I must defend myself with the plea that I believed that you would play better without an audience, and I must say I was right, the music was beautiful,” said the figure, at last coming near enough for Ri to make out his features.

“Boromir!” she exclaimed in total surprise, “What are you doing here?” she asked automatically and then instantly realised that it wasn’t the most courteous of the things to say. “I… I mean, Lord Boromir… what brings you here at such an hour?” she corrected hastily. Boromir chuckled.

“The same thing as brought most people here tonight, I came to enjoy the fine music and watch the dancing,” he replied.

“My Lord was here all night?” asked Ri in disbelief, he was a Lord of Gondor, surely his tastes lay more with the regal balls held at the palace than the humble informal night of abandon in the lowest level of the city?

“I arrived just before you came,” he said.

“But I didn’t- sorry I have asked too many questions already,” she said looking down at the grass between her feet.

“No, ask what you wish, I am not in haste,” he answered, sounding amused. She had a hundred things she felt she wanted to ask. Did he regularly attend the night-time gatherings on the lowest level? Did he really like the music of a patched-together, unrehearsed, improvisational group of musicians? Wouldn’t people be looking for him at this time of night given his rank? She decided to go with the most risk-free question.

“Well, I was just wondering how it is possible that I did not notice you in all the party,” she asked quickly, hoping, not for the first time that day that what she thought was polite did not sound rude to his ears.

“There are reasons I am captain of Gondor aside from my heritage, I am quite able to keep myself unseen should I wish,” replied Boromir in what Ri thought was a slightly colder tone, but she could have imagined it.

“Sorry, of course you can,” answered Ri in a small voice, resuming the detailed inspection of the holes in her shoes. There was an awkward silence for a moment before Boromir spoke.

“Your dress suits you, did you make it?” he asked.

“No my lord, I’m afraid I have very little skill with the needle, I bought it… with the money you so generously gave me as it happens,” she said, looking up into his face for a moment.

“A few gold coins are nothing to me, forget about it,” he said. Ri couldn’t help wondering what his life must be like to be able to throw money like that around with such thoughtlessness. There was another awkward silence.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said at last. Ri would have argued that she was quite capable of walking on her own at her age, but it seemed more of a statement than an offer.

“Thank you,” she said and immediately began walking down the hill.

“Are you cold?” asked Boromir once they were walking on the streets.

“No, I’m quite fine thank you,” Ri answered quickly. The truth was that she was quite cold, but there seemed nothing Boromir could have done about it even if she had said, so she kept quiet. The streets were deserted and they saw no one save a lone black cat on way to Ri’s room.

“This is where I live,” Ri said when they arrived at her old wooden door. “Thank you for the company my lord,” she said.

“It was my pleasure, I bid you good night Riana,” he said before walking off into the night.

Ri let her self in and breathed a deep sigh.

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