Seeds of the White Tree

Chapter 24 - The Eye

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All was quiet in the White City, just the sort of night which Eldarion preferred for a turn on guard duty. He passed beneath the Gate of Stars from the Players' Tier to the Sages' Tier of Minas Tirith, and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the passage in the moonlight. Gold inlay lined the carven stars, Suns and moons dusted across the smooth white stone, and in the dark the engravings gleamed like quicksilver. Eldarion's footsteps echoed as he treated the length of the fifth gate. He heard no other sound, not even the murmuring of the night watchmen. Two soldiers stood silent at attention outside the far end of the gate when Eldarion emerged. They greeted their young captain with a nod and a soft "My lord", but otherwise the peace remained unbroken. Surveying the rooftops of the Houses of Lore and the city Archives, bone white beneath the deep blue vault of night, Eldarion fingered his sword at his belt and smiled. Nearly fourteen months on the city guard, and he had yet to draw the blade whilst on active duty.

"Any scholars burning the midnight oil tonight, Ohtar?" asked Eldarion.

Ohtar - an easy-tempered fellow not quite forty - nodded. "The astronomers are tracking the meteor shower they predicted a fortnight ago. All candles are lit in the windows of Bâr Menel. You know, my lord, some folk believe it's good luck to wish upon a falling star."

Sure enough, little pinpricks of light could be seen in the House of the Heavens. Almárëa was in there as well, having been instructed by her tutors to observe the path of the celestial stones as they fell to earth. It was said that the Noldor had shaped the all-seeing Palantíri from such stones, and if any fell in Gondor then the sages would be the first to know of it. Star, stone, or Palantír, Eldarion did not imagine such things were in the habit of granting wishes, even to princes.

"If that were true, what would you wish for, Ohtar?"

"Well now that's an easy question! Wealth, fame, and good fortune of course! And perhaps a fairer, younger face to go with it all!" Ohtar chuckled, his buck-teeth clearly visible beneath the nose-piece of his helm when he did so. "And you, Prince Eldarion?"

Considering that - if he were being perfectly honest and throwing humility to the wind - Eldarion already possessed all of the things that Ohtar had just mentioned, he thought carefully before he answered. One thing Eldarion had learned within the first month of his appointment to the city guard was that being the Prince of Gondor may entitle him to deference from the men of his company, but it did not mean they had to like or respect him. Those things came slowly, with time and a constantly growing awareness of the privileges that his station in life afforded him. Even now there were still some among the older men under Eldarion's command who clearly didn't think him capable of figuring a thistle from a thimble. Elfwine's letters from Rohan and his confessions of a similar settling-in period upon being made Third Marshal were an enormous reassurance to Eldarion.

At length Eldarion replied "I think I might wish for a spare six hours at daybreak."

"Oh?" asked Ohtar. "And why might that be?"

"More time in which to make up for lost sleep! Tomorrow is my parents' wedding anniversary, and my sisters have more than a few plans for filling the day. You at least can go home and sleep come changing of the guard!"

"Not with a pair of three-year-olds twins at home I can't!" Ohtar exclaimed, rattling his spear. "It will be 'Papa see this' and 'Papa mend that' from dawn 'till dusk from the moment I get in the door. You wait until you have children of your own someday, my lord, and then you'll know that sleep can be made up for when you're dead!"