Part 3

Silently, Legolas drew his white knives; his wife pulled out her sword. Slowly and deliberately, the pair moved forward, Legolas directing Sighard’s attention to the floorboards beneath him.

Sighard understood.

Dropping quietly to his knees, and using his hands, he quickly found a tiny gap in the boards—a concealed hand-hold—and, curling his fingers into it, he looked up at Legolas, and nodded.

Legolas readied his weapons.

Sighard lifted the trap door—

A wail of terror split the silence, echoing off the walls of the tiny house.

“Oh, Mother Cynwise!” cried Sighard. “No, no, don’t be afraid! We’re here to help you!” He reached down into the little hiding place, and tried to reassure the terrified old woman but, the more he tried, the more she—blind and vulnerable—shrank away from him, huddling into a corner, and howling.

“Melmenya,” said Legolas.

Eowyn sheathed her sword, but it was Haldir who, moving the man aside, managed to calm the poor woman, gathering her into his arms, and crooning, “Nana; Nana; you are safe now. Shhh. Shhh.”

...

“She does not know anything,” said Haldir.

He had taken off his cloak and wrapped it around the wise woman, and had settled her on one of the beds. “She says that when they heard the horsemen, Ayleth hid her under the floor, and faced them alone.”

Legolas and Eowyn exchanged glances.

“We will get Ayleth back, Haldir,” said Eowyn.

“Yes,” said Legolas. “But we must must first decide what to do with the old lady, and quickly.” He lowered his voice. “She is hardly recognisable as the woman I visited last Yule. We cannot leave her here to fend for herself.”

“My Lord,” said Sighard. “My place is less than a league away, and my wife will take good care of her.”

...

As Legolas and Haldir were lifting the helpless wise woman onto Haldir’s horse, Eowyn—toeing the muddy tracks—spotted a glint of gold against the dull, dark soil.

She stooped, and picked it up—

“Melmenya? We are ready.”

Eowyn slipped it down the front of her corslet, and mounted her horse.