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Day 29 of Ivanneth, 3325 (G.C.) of the Second Age |
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Minas Ithil - Houses of Healing
Menegil Belmagol,
I write this as I recover in the Houses of Healing, wounded terribly. Yesterday, during the battle between the Dunedain and the Nazgul, I fell, the fangs and teeth of a fell-beast closing themselves on my shoulder, and a Morgul dagger on the other. The battle was not long, but the time I remained, stretched on the floor, bleeding, was as if each minute had the length of an aeon of the Earth. I owe my life to Húrin the Steward, as he delivered me from battle into the hands of the healers of these Houses.
Ereinion Gil-galad seems to be incredibly in good shape, for as I fell, I spotted him, near the White Tree of Gondor, shining as a star beneath the immensity of the Void, fencing five Ulairë with his formidable spear. He has grown into a fine King, and I am proud of serving him.
Today I aided Targon, the Director of these Houses, in the healing of the wounded that were struck by the Black Breath disease. I prepared a draught that will aid the regeneration of wounds and spirit, although I fear of what Targonwill do with it...too much of it might worsen the state of the ill. But I instructed him in everything that he must do, and if he has done anything wrong, I am afraid that I will have to raise myself from my bed, with high a cost, and aid the ill myself.
Now, I will sleep, for my wounds are too many, and my arm refuses to take more notes.
 Menegil · Wed Sep 29, 2004 @ 09:05pm · 1 Comments |
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