4. The Queen and the King's Councillor
Later Gálmód found her as she was overseeing the preparations for the guests. Morwen was not unhappy at this distraction, though she could feel him undressing her with his eyes even as he accosted her, first with pleasantries and then with questions about the foreigner. She was accustomed to his attentions, and they did not disturb her overmuch, for she trusted him to know when enough was enough. More importantly, so did Thengel; and he trusted his queen completely. Besides, she liked the man; for his wit, that never failed to challenge and surprise, for his charm, sparing, but honed for the moment, and for his lively face and the flame red hair that had won him the name ‘the fox’ among his peers. The dragging gait, from a misshapen foot that had marked him out since his birth, would have consigned lesser men to scratch a living on the edges of their people. Indeed it afforded Gálmód a peculiar fragility amongst the men at arms under his command, but no one who got to know him was long troubled by pity, much less by contempt. For none had more influence with the king than he. Since his youth he had ridden to the wars, rarely to fight, though he was skilled with a bow and on horseback was as agile as any man, but to observe and to study. And thus, no one knew better how to plan an ambush or execute a manoeuvre.
‘I saw your latest guest today, my lady.’ His voice was gently mocking, but not unkind. ‘Where did you make such a fine catch?’
Morwen smiled. ‘I hooked him out of the river, of course. At first, I thought him from Gondor, but he tells me that he hales from the north. He wishes to serve the king.’
‘A laudable quest,’ he replied solemnly. ‘And would you have him serve Thengel?’
‘I would have him do whatever he will.’
‘Provided you may watch him no doubt.’
‘Gálmód, you are an impertinent wretch,’ laughed the queen. ‘Get thee gone or I shall have you beaten before the steps of Meduseld.’
‘My lady, I tremble with fear at your feet. But this fellow is surely a great monument to manhood and should be slain lest he drive the rest of us feeble wretches to slit our own worthless throats.’
‘You have been in your cups again, my lord, and it is not yet noon. Besides, whatever his charms, he may ride like a lecherous dog and shoot like a drunkard. But in either event Thengel will remove you hence and put him in your place, if you do not treat your queen as befits your station and hers.’
Gálmód executed the most elegant bow his infirmity would allow. ‘Your honeyed words are all the wine a man could ever want, my queen. If I should die today, I would die glad that you deigned to speak so in my hearing.’
‘Get out before I feed you to my dogs,’ growled Morwen in mock rage.
A picture of pained innocence, the king’s councillor fled from the chamber. However, his curiosity about the newcomer was genuine and he made his way to the horsehead fountain to seek this, his latest quarry.
‘I saw your latest guest today, my lady.’ His voice was gently mocking, but not unkind. ‘Where did you make such a fine catch?’
Morwen smiled. ‘I hooked him out of the river, of course. At first, I thought him from Gondor, but he tells me that he hales from the north. He wishes to serve the king.’
‘A laudable quest,’ he replied solemnly. ‘And would you have him serve Thengel?’
‘I would have him do whatever he will.’
‘Provided you may watch him no doubt.’
‘Gálmód, you are an impertinent wretch,’ laughed the queen. ‘Get thee gone or I shall have you beaten before the steps of Meduseld.’
‘My lady, I tremble with fear at your feet. But this fellow is surely a great monument to manhood and should be slain lest he drive the rest of us feeble wretches to slit our own worthless throats.’
‘You have been in your cups again, my lord, and it is not yet noon. Besides, whatever his charms, he may ride like a lecherous dog and shoot like a drunkard. But in either event Thengel will remove you hence and put him in your place, if you do not treat your queen as befits your station and hers.’
Gálmód executed the most elegant bow his infirmity would allow. ‘Your honeyed words are all the wine a man could ever want, my queen. If I should die today, I would die glad that you deigned to speak so in my hearing.’
‘Get out before I feed you to my dogs,’ growled Morwen in mock rage.
A picture of pained innocence, the king’s councillor fled from the chamber. However, his curiosity about the newcomer was genuine and he made his way to the horsehead fountain to seek this, his latest quarry.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.
