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"Their pace has quickened. They must have caught our scent. Hurry!"
The group followed Aragorn's command, running swiftly and almost silently as the had for the past few days. Legolas hastened Gimli to follow as quickly as he could, but the dwarf was smaller than the others were, whether he chose to admit it or not. He simply couldn't run at their speed.
They had been running for at least three days by now, only stopping when it was absolutely necessary and still had not seen the Uruk-hai. Aragorn could track them but that was all. And each moment the hobbits were in their custody, the danger bestowed on the little ones increased. No one was willing to discuss their thoughts on what would be done with Merry and Pippin, especially when it was discovered that they did not carry the Ring. Their lives would be forfeit.
After a few more hours of running, Aragorn stooped to pick up an item. Gimli sat on a nearby rock for a moment and Legolas ran a bit ahead to scan the territory. Enzi heard Aragorn sigh, relieved and walked towards him, looking at what he was carrying. It was the leaf-like brooch the Elves of the Lorien used to pin their cloaks on. It could have only come from Merry or Pippin.
"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall," Aragorn said to Enzi as she smiled at the small, seemingly insignificant decoration.
"They may yet be alive!" Legolas exclaimed, turning to the pair.
"They have to be," Enzi suggested quickly. "Perhaps this is a sign, the only sign they could leave us to follow."
Aragorn placed the item in his pocket and looked towards the horizon. "Less than a day ahead of us, come!"
And so the running began again, Aragorn taking the front, Enzi scrambling behind, Legolas slowing down to keep his eyes on their surroundings and Gimli, who couldn't help but lag a great distance behind. They had become such friends, Legolas and Gimli, closer than Enzi had thought they could have become. But she and Boromir and become friends too, maybe more. Something about suffering together seemed to bring them all together. Enzi only hoped that Merry and Pippin could hold on until they reached them.
Slowly they were entering yet another territory she had to sneak through during her journey to Rivendell, only she had the aid of a young Mûmak. Aragorn had called it Rohan, home of the horse-lords. Her people had called it Farasi Misingi, which meant roughly the same. She remembered her mother speaking of meeting these people in battle before. They were not regarded as fierce and mighty as the Gondorians, but they were a force to be reckoned with, especially when accompanied by their horses. Mfalme Sumayyaa had said that she believed the people's souls were connected to their horses considering how they cared for them so. Perhaps their ancestors were reborn in the bodies of the creatures and that was why rider and horse worked together in such tandem.
As Enzi pondered this, the gleam of an object on the ground caught her eye. She stooped down to examine it better, thinking for a moment that it might be another clue from the hobbits. But it wasn't. She recognized it almost instantly. Traditionally, tributes wore symbols that represented their culture. Her people always sent tributes adorned with the blessings of their ancestors. She'd shown Sam her ornaments, the clips she still carried in her pack from her hair. This was something more. This was a gold band carved intricately in her language and accented with a bit of carved mûmak tusk that carried the carving of the wearer's name and title. A maisha. But not just any maisha . It carried the names of her grandparents, her mother, and her father. The accomplishments of twenty years of service to her father and mother was etched on it. It could have only come from one person.
"The Uruks turn Northeast. They are taking the hobbits to Isengard!"
Legolas's comment shook her out of her trance and she jumped in response. She looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. Gimli was still taking a moment to rest. Legolas was looking out at the countryside and so was Aragorn. She was safe. She took a moment to gently place the item in her pack. What did it mean? Was he dead and this was discarded as nothing? In a respectable death, such items would have to be taken back to the remaining family; to just leave it on the ground was the ultimate sign of disrespect, to not only the dead, but also his ancestors and descendants to come.
"Are you coming, milady?"
Enzi jumped again, finally looking at Legolas when she had caught her breath. Gimli and Aragorn were in the distance, running in the direction Legolas had apparently pointed out. "I am fine," Enzi said quickly, a small smile spreading over her lips. The elf nodded and began running after the other two. She took a moment to touch her own maisha then began to run after the group. Perhaps it was a message, she thought. But what was he trying to tell her? That he was alive? That he was with the hobbits?
She pondered this throughout their travels all day and wished that they had a moment to investigate the area. But they were too close to their target. Besides, she dared not tell anyone what she'd found. They had accepted her, but that didn't mean all of her kind would be so accepted. She would have to investigate this herself.
Each of them wanted to continue, but lack of provision and rest had finally taken its toll. Even the elf was tired. Gimli almost instantly went to sleep and Aragorn only settled down when he was sure the Uruk-hai had also settled for a rest. "We will be no good for Merry and Pippin if we get slaughtered from exhaustion," he commented and settled himself for rest as well.
Enzi slipped away from the group, feigning a need for privacy for her "womanly needs". None of them complained or even questioned her. This was one of the few times she was grateful to be a woman on the journey. She could try to figure out her next move in privacy due to their fear of invading her privacy.
Under the full moon, Enzi could find her way to a grove of trees a good distance away from the group. The grove made it darker and more difficult to see, but it was better than letting the others see it. It was only then that she pulled out the second maisha. Where was he?
Suddenly a hands gripped Enzi, one over her mouth, the other holding her arms down. She struggled against the grip, biting and kicking, but felt herself dragged away even further from the group. Why didn't she at least bring her glove?
Might wouldn't defeat her captor. Cunning would. So she stopped struggling and waited until she was dragged to a clearing. When the creature began to let go of her, she struck, kicking and punching. He held on fiercely, working with the dark to hold her there, but she was too dodgy and slipped free. She was mid-stride when she heard it.
"Ghadi!"
Only one person called her that. She turned and faced him, and watched him walk up to her in the clearing, where the moonlight was greater, so that she could get a better look at him. He was scared, not from their fight, but from his training in the army. His hair had grown back a bit, covering the ceremonial tattoos partially. She took a moment to touch his face, feeling the beginnings of a newly growing beard. And the eyes, the eyes of her mother and grandfather looked back at her.
"Din?" He smiled and a tear threatened to roll down her face. "Dingane?"
"Yes, little sister. It's me."
The two gripped each other fiercely, as if they had only the other to keep them alive. Both of them wept in the other's arms, just happy to see each other after being assured that they would never see each other again. It had been almost a year since they saw each other that night, but it had felt like a lifetime. "I'm so sorry I left you, "Enzi sobbed softly. "I left you to handle everything alone."
"I wouldn't have let you join the Army of Mordor alone," Dingane retorted. "You did the right thing, Ghadi." He finally released her a bit. "So much has changed. So much is different than it was."
They both sat in front of each other and told of their travels. Enzi told him about hiding her given name and taking on the role of a simple soldier to protect their family. She told him of the discovery that Mchawi was real and had visited their parents to help them rebel against the Eye, as well as his death. She found it hard to talk about Boromir. The mere thought of a Gondorian being in the group seem to bring his instant distain. She couldn't bear the look in his eyes if she told him how close they had become. So she glossed over his death, looking away in case he questioned the waver in her voice, and explained their mission now to save the Merry and Pippin while Frodo and Sam continued the mission.
Dingane had his own story to tell as well. He'd convinced the Emissary that he'd found her clothes ripped and bloody and assumed that she was dead. This, along with his assurance that he would be sufficient for the both of them kept her secret mission safe, while he trained in Mordor. That was wear the scars came from, both the ones on his face and on his back, which he showed after the coercion that only a sister could give. He faced constant brutality and starvation (a consequence of being in service of creatures that would eat things so vile one would rather starve than eat was provided by them), a fact that instantly made Enzi hand him piece of lambas she'd saved for emergencies. He ate it silently for a while, tearing up as he choked it down.
After he was done, his tale got worse. He confirmed Galadriel's prophesy. Their father was, indeed dead, a consequence of his treachery. Asana was Mfalme now, the council using her as a puppet to rule. He had to bury his feelings to protect her and keep her a council puppet rather than admit to the feelings he felt for his father and endanger her. "I'm so sorry, Ghadi," he said, desperately grasping his younger sister's hands.
"For what, Din?" Enzi replied, comforting him. "You did what you had to. Father knew where your heart was before the end. I was the one who shunned his love for the final time. I was the one who . . . " But Dingane wasn't listening. He was looking down at their hands, still clasped together. There was something else. Something else he was too embarrassed to volunteer. What could be worse than their father's death? "What is it? Dingane?"
He took a moment to breathe, sweating and shaking as she'd never seen him before. "I – I killed . . ." he muttered, ashamed.
"We both have had to do things we didn't want to on this journey," Enzi comforted, trying to assure him that nothing could change her opinion of him. He was her brother and a great man who had made the ultimate sacrifice out of love. She'd made it out of fear.
"Let me finish!" he insisted, quieting her almost instantly. He looked down again. " I killed Abaan."
Abaan was their cousin, and a cherished friend. He was the only surviving son of Mfalme Ghasaan's brother Khuzimah, and was known for making everyone laugh rather than being a fearsome warrior. He could fight, as could most of her people, but it wasn't second nature for him. It was a necessity, just like taking medicine. He took no joy in it, but did it for the good of his people. Abaan was just as much a brother to her as Dingane was. After his father died, he was raised with the two. She knew that Abaan would have been called as tribute as well. He was his father's only remaining son; being the lone member of your family tree didn't mean you wouldn't be considered tribute. But dead? And worse still, dead by Din's hands? A wave of cold overtook Enzi and she shivered against Dingane's touch.
He felt it and processed her feelings. "I-I had no choice, Ghadi," he stammered "I swear it. When the news of father's death reached Mordor, I was brought before my superiors so that they cold judge my reaction. I swallowed his feelings and disowned him publically, claiming that I was a son of Mordor, not Ghasaan. But Abaan didn't. He couldn't. Father had been the only 'father' he'd known for so long. He looked up to him so. Hearing me say these things tore him apart. He protested my treatment of father's memory and continued to hold him up as a great king and man. And then they brought Abaan to me. They were testing me again."
"He asked me why I would let them do this – to dishonor my father's body and memory. He asked me where my love for my father was, despite all who were looking. If I did nothing, said nothing, they would have considered me a traitor, and would have killed both of us right there, and Asana days later." He pulled out a dagger, the one passed down from grandfather. "And I did what I had to, proving my loyalty to Mordor."
It was quiet for a while. Neither of them had the words to express their feelings. Another death. Another death to deal with. The very thought of her brother committing such an act simply took the air out of her lungs. And as angry and hurt as she was, how could she look at Dingane so hypocritically? It was she who had divulged the secrets of her people to strangers. It was she who had murdered the Askari on the shore so long ago. How could she judge him for one death when she was responsible for several?
But she did. In spite of herself, she did. She pulled her hands from his grip and walked towards the edge of the clearing. "How long?" she finally asked.
"Three months ago."
She bit the anger down, realizing it was the wrong emotion to have in the midst of her own sins, but feeling it none the less. "Did you say the prayers?" She thought about her question and answered it herself, not even looking back to confirm if she were correct. "No, you couldn't have, could you? Mordor doesn't bless the bodies of traitors. They desecrate them." She signed softly, letting another tear fall. "Then let us do it now."
Enzi turned and kneeled in front of her brother, who had stood when she walked away. She drew Abaan's name in the ground in her language then placed old twigs and leaves ripe for burning on top. Dingane settled himself down in front of her and her creation, guiltily and unsure. She took another deep breath and slowly grasped Dingane by his hands again, looking into his eyes deeply. "Who shall we pray to?" Dingane asked, puzzled.
"I don't know. I only know who we shouldn't pray to." So they knelt in the dirt offering final blessings over the body of their cousin and friend, asking their ancestors to guide him home and to give his soul peace. Then they each asked for blessings for each other, to take away the guilt and pain of what they had to do. And to give protect them until they could unite with their sister one day. It was tradition to burn the body of the honored, to insure they're remains could not be desecrated, and to free their souls from the body just as the vapors of the fire flowed up to the sky. But in the absence of a body, she burned the twigs and leaves instead, hoping they would do as a substitute. They sat their in silence, watching the flames slowly come to live, crackle and spark with vitality, and then quickly die down til only the embers remained. The ultimate symbol of life.
After their small ceremony, they both covered the small hand-made altar with dust to insure that the orcs wouldn't know of Din's treachery. It was hard to say goodbye after being alone for so long, but they both had duties to perform. Enzi had to continue to see their father's mission through. Dingane had to continue to cover for both of them, and to lead the army regiment he commanded jointly with an orc away from the group. So, they hugged one more time and Enzi took the bit of mûmak tusk bound to both her maisha and Dingane's and replaced one with the other. Enzi then gave her brother back his maisha, once a symbol for the accomplishments of his life and his the honor of his ancestors, now as a symbol that they were always together, whether they could see each other or not. And, without even a goodbye (because it hurt so much to say it), they parted, each heading off in separate directions.
When Enzi returned to camp, it was quiet and the fire was flickering with the last embers of life. The sun was a few hours from rising and she leaned on a tree, determined to get at least a few hours of sleep. It was only after she'd wrapped herself in her cloak and was about to drift to sleep that she heard anything.
"You were gone a long time."
Enzi opened her eyes to find Aragorn gazing at her in the distance, across from the dying fire.
"I got lost," she lied. For a while, it was silent. If Aragorn suspected anything, he said nothing. "Get some sleep, he finally ordered and Enzi nodded, slowly drifting into unconsciousness.
The next morning they continued to run until afternoon. Aragorn could no longer hear the creatures on the ground, so they just ran, hoping to find the creatures resting rather than out of their reach.
A rumbling sound distracted them from their journey and Enzi felt Aragorn force her behind a bunch of boulders to hide with Legolas and Gimli. A cavalry of soldiers were riding in formation on the countryside. Enzi counted at least two dozen of them and wondered how Aragorn planed to get pass them without noticing. More desperate than ever to protect her identity, especially with the knowledge that Din's soldiers were nearby, she slid the hood of her cloak over her head and placed her mask on once again, just in case.
To her shock, Aragorn stood up and called to them.
"Riders of Rohan!" he called, "what news from the Mark?"
The riders did not answer but turned around to the four while still information. They encircled the group and pointed their spears at them, ready to strike. Aragorn held up his hands as a symbol of submission, but Enzi refused. She had crossed his territory before and had submitted to no one. She would not now.
The leader rode up to them. "What business does an elf, a man and a dwarf have in the Riddermark?" He eyed her for a moment, and then roughly lifted the hood off her head with the end of the spear. "And you have captured a Harad prisoner on our lands? How interesting. . . . "
"Mimi ni mfungwa na mtu yeyote, mdogo wa wote, wewe!" Enzi grunted beneath the mask, eyeing the man directly and regarding the spears surrounding her as threatening as one considers a fly.
He returned her stare but no longer addressed her. "Control your hound and speak quickly!"
"Give me your name, horsemaster, and I shall give you mine." Enzi smiled a bit at Gimli's comment. She wasn't the only one who refused to be weak for the sake of these people's egos.
The man got off his horse. She leaned closer to the dwarf, gripped her spear with her right hand, and readied her gloved left hand. He would not touch the dwarf. "I would cut off your head — dwarf — if it stood but a little higher from the ground."
She could hear the swift precision of an arrow being drawn. "You would die before your stroke fell!" Legolas commanded.
Aragorn was desperate to keep the peace and brought down the arm the elf. "I'm Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Glóin, Legolas, from the Woodland realm and Enzi, servant of a Mfalme Ghasaan." Enzi looked over at Aragorn, a bit confused. she'd never told him the name of her father, or for that matter, the title given to all leaders of her country. How did he know it? "We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king."
The man eyed Aragorn suspiciously for a moment, and then grimaced. "Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe. Not even his own kin." The leader removed his helmet and Aragorn seemed to recognize him. Perhaps he was the king's son. Enzi wasn't impressed at all. This beast was royalty? He certainly didn't act it. But at least the spears were down. "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over this land. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked." He took a moment to eye Enzi and then Legolas. "And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."
"We are no spies," Aragorn defended. "We track a band of Uruk-hai westward across the plains. They have taken two of our friends captive."
The man took his eyes off the two for a moment and looked at Aragorn. "The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night."
"But there were two hobbits," Gimli insisted. "Did you see two hobbits with them?"
"They would be small," Aragorn explained, "only children to your eyes."
The man seemed uncomfortable. "We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them." In the distance, Enzi could see a pile of bodies being burned in a slowly dying bonfire.
"You killed them!" Enzi said finally. "They were captives! Defenseless! You killed them!"
The man regarded her and nodded regrettably. "I am sorry."
The four were overcome. They had traveled all this way to save the two hobbits, and were too late. Two more dead due to the failure of the Fellowship.
After a while, the man whistled loudly and called for two horses. He handed Aragorn the reigns "May these horses bear you to better fortune than the former masters. Farewell." After he had mounted, he made one more comment. "Look for your friends, but do not trust the hope. It has forsaken these lands."
He ordered his troop to ride north and they watched the men disappear on the horizon.
Enzi eyed the horses for a moment, not sure what to expect from the creatures. She looked at the other three males then slowly began walking to the pile. "Come. We will find no answers standing here."
And slowly the four made their way to the death pile.
Farasi Misingi – Horse grounds
Mimi ni mfungwa na mtu yeyote, mdogo wa wote, wewe! - I am prisoner to no man, least of all, you!
Poor Dingane! What do you think will happen next? Reviews are always welcome!