Nerwen the Green and the Search for the Entwives #wattys2019

Chapter XXXVII: In the City of the Hwenti

Chapter XXXVII: In the City of the Hwenti

Early in the afternoon, they arrived at Kopellin, the capital city of the Hwenti; similar in looks to Bârlyth, this town was only a little more than half the size of the latter. It was built on the junction of the Rinnen with the Sirlechin, a smaller river coming almost exactly from the east, directly from the Orocarni.

At the entrance of the walls surrounding the town stood two sentinels, who looked at them in surprise. One of the soldiers bowed to Aryon, having evidently recognised him, and let them pass without stopping them. Nerwen thought amused that, if it would be just her, she would have to show the queen's safe-conduct, as it already happened in the previous days.

Aryon dismounted in front of the booth: as he had explained to his partner, they had to declare themselves to the captain of the city militia.

"Lord Aryon!" the captain greeted him, "Welcome to Kopellin! We weren't expecting you..."

"This time I'm not on official business, Captain Glorgan," Aryon explained, "I'm just a traveller like anyone. My travelling companion is Nerwen the Green," he concluded, pointing to the Istar.

Glorgan watched her doubtfully, probably wondering why the queen's brother associated with a female of the race of Men, but he didn't comment.

"Very well, I'll check you both in. How long will you stay here?"

Aryon looked at Nerwen: she was the one who had to decide.

The Maia shrugged:

"We don't know yet," she answered, "It depends on various factors. Surely, at least two or three days."

The captain of the guards nodded and didn't enquire any further; certainly, Nerwen mused again, if she was alone he would question her thoroughly, but being with Aryon, brother to the High Sovereign of the Avari, protected her from such nuisances.

Exiting the booth, Aryon commented:

"Usually, when I come here, I stay at the royal palace: the king of the Hwenti, Séredor, is a good friend of mine. Even if I'm not on official business, he'll host us gladly."

Nerwen nodded while they mounted again, then they headed for the centre of Kopellin, where the royal palace stood: another advantage to be in Aryon's company, she thought, pleased. It would last only as long as they were inside the territory of the Six Tribes of the Avari, but in the meantime, she would gladly grab the opportunity.

As they arrived to the palace, a groom came to take their mounts. Recognising Aryon, he bowed low, but he looked Nerwen suspiciously up and down. She reciprocated firmly his stare, glowering, which was normally enough to put anyone in his place, but instead she obtained only a colder stare of dislike. Not again! she thought, exasperated. She felt like having gone back to the day when she met Aryon for the first time, on the shores of the Sea of Rhûn.

"I'll take care personally of my horses," she said brusquely, refusing to give him the bridles of Thalion and Thilgiloth. This upset the Elf even more, but she didn't care a fig; grasping the situation, Aryon cast a ferocious glance at the groom, but he had turned and didn't see it.

The prince followed Nerwen into the stables and, when the groom left them to tend Allakos and Nordhir, he crossed his arms on his chest and asked her in a low voice:

"You want me chopping him?"

Aghast, Nerwen turned to look at him:

"What?"

"I won't have anybody looking at you the wrong way," Aryon explained, mortally serious. The Aini stared at him for some moments, then burst into laughter: