Ok, are you ready for the next chapter? I know the last one was very short but hopefully still entertaining. Let's see how the next one goes!
On a side note, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas or holiday season (depending on what you celebrate). I hope everyone has an opportunity to spend time with family and friends, sharing in the spirit of peace and love!
Enzi had been dressed in that simple old brown gown from her first days in Edoras. It had been the one gown she seemed completely comfortable wearing, a gown that Éowyn had called absolutely hideous. She had curled her legs up in one of the couches, cocooned within a patchwork quilt as she studied a small piece of parchment. Her eyes scanned the paper, reading and then rereading portions of in the afternoon light and her lips frowned a bit in concentration. Éomer had never seen such a captivating site.
He cleared his throat, chuckling a bit when he watched her jerk at the shock of a noise the in the quiet study. "You know, it is tradition for the wives of Rohan soldiers to meet them at the gate when they come home from a long journey."
Her face brightened almost instantly and she stood from the couch, the quilt falling to the floor as she rushed towards him, embracing him and kissing him about the cheeks. "I'm not your wife, " she smiled, holding his head in her hands. "Not yet. And I'm not Rohan."
"Not yet, "Éomer countered, leaning his forehead to hers. He pressed his lips to hers, reenergized by just being in her presence. The two chuckled for a moment, still not releasing one another.
"I missed you." It was a small declaration, a light confession, but it meant more than anything she could have given Éomer. He buried his head in her neck, nuzzling her, still careful to aggravate the angry bruise over her eye. "Now," he said finally ready to release her, at least a bit, "what are you reading that fascinates you so?"
For the first time, Enzi's grin faltered. She looked down for a moment, taking a breath before speaking. For a moment, he thought it was news of his sister's condition. Éowyn was with child and though she was not fit for traveling to see the wedding, Enzi had insisted that they would visit her before her confinement after the wedding. "What is it?" Éomer asked as gently as he could, nerves more agitated at her continued silence.
"Udayl's dead."
He looked at her a long while, saying nothing and rubbing her back as they both walked back to the couch. He knew her well enough now that there would be little signs of grief from her face. She had a practiced calm in the features that she rarely let slip. It would be in her body that the stress of grief would show. As they sat down, she remained rigid, her eyes searching the room. She was trying to figure out what to say, how to convey her feelings. Éomer wanted to calm her, to tell her that she need offer no explanation to him, but he knew that she wouldn't listen. So instead, he did. He sat there with her, hands rubbing the worn material of the arms of the brown dress, waiting for her to speak. When she began twisting her hands, still searching the room, he decided to speak. "When will the rites be spoken?" he asked, gently.
"In less than two weeks," Enzi said her voice far away. "He was old. It was only a matter of time before the ancestors would call for him." She paused, taking a breath. "Bakari has written to me of this, extending an invitation for me to attend."
Éomer looked at her. "Attend the rites?" Enzi nodded, looking up at him slowly. She knew what he would say, yet he said it anyway. "Enzi, you still bear the wounds of your attack in Ithilien."
"I know," she said quietly.
"The attackers haven't been caught," he further emphasized.
"I know," she said again.
"Enzi," he started, frustrated now in spite of himself.
"I have to attend, Éomer," she said unusually quiet. "One does not refuse this." She took another breath. "There is no one else. No other family or friends. They are alone. I cannot abandon them."
He signed. He wanted to yell at her that she was not being careful enough. That her life was in danger and she wasn't taking the danger as seriously as she should have. But he remembered the expression in her eyes when she asked him to aide her in death before the Battle at Pelennor. The dread held in her eyes as she had waited for his acceptance or refusal. There was such a fear in the rites not being spoken correctly. He knew that she would feel compelled to go, despite the danger. It would be an offense not to go. "Then let me go with you," Éomer said softly, holding her a bit tighter. "We can bring a small troop of men –"
"You cannot go," she said looking at him. "You are an outsider. They will be offended if you attend. I must go alone."
"I will NOT send you alone!" Éomer said, the dam finally breaking and the anger seeping out in his words. He stood in frustration, looking about the room at some unseen enemy. "They tried to KILL you, Enzi!"
He looked back to her expecting her to stand and scream out a retort but she said nothing, looking from him down to the floor. "I don't know what else to say, Éomer," she said softly. "I'm sorry."
He instantly felt guilty. Unreasonable. If had at least yelled back at him, he would have felt better, justified. But her quiet resignation tore at him deeper than the most fatal wound. He came back to her, kneeling down in front her, pulling her close to him. "No. No, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything." He could feel her close the gap a bit, burying her head into his neck. He heard little but could feel warm tears on his skin. He supposed that this had been her first release of emotion since hearing of the man's death. They stayed in that position for a while, quietly holding each other. Finally Éomer spoke, defeated almost as soon as he heard himself speak the words. "When will you leave?"
Éomer played and replayed these moments in his mind. Enzi had finally agreed to allow two of his men to travel with her and a few days later, she was gone. He wished that he had held her longer. That he had taken the moment to tell her how much he loved her, how much she truly meant to him. He should have not bothered to ask how long she would be gone, or listened to her as she asked that Bakari, Idyssa, and Gyasi be brought back under their protection. In the end none of that mattered. All that mattered was that she knew, in the end, how he felt.
"You are thinking of the sister of Mfalme Asana?" the voice of Khemik came. Éomer merely nodded quietly, eyes squinting in the morning sun. They had ridden for days now, making camp only when absolutely necessary. Despite the focus he knew he should have on the goal of his arrival in Harad, she had held almost all of his thoughts. "The Ordeals will tax her, but Mfalme Asana will help her as much as she can."
He looked at the man. He'd mentioned these ordeals before, but had not specifically explained them. "What are they?"
The man looked at him, face unchanged. The Kesi ya Kifalme? It is a trial given to a member of a royal family. An opportunity to defend oneself in the eyes of the tribe."
"If that's the case, why would Enzi's sister need to help her?"
"Ancient law requires one to prove oneself though a series of trials. If one prevails or endures, they are considered blessed by the ancestors. Meaning they've proven their innocence."
Éomer grew nervous. "Trials? What kind of trials?"
The man knit his brows together and took a breath. "The more time we waste pondering this, the longer it will take to free the Mfalme's brother. It would be better to leave this conversation unfinished." He looked at Éomer, who nodded and the two said nothing for a long while until Khemik spoke again. "The truth is that she left the tribe to aide strangers. That must be answered for." A deadly cold glance from Éomer stilled is next sentence. For a while he said nothing. "You care for the woman?" he finally asked. Éomer nodded quietly as they continued to ride through the plains. "Just as she cares for her Mfalme. To avoid answering the charge of treason would bring shame to her whole line, and Mfalme Asana's rule would be questioned. She chose this."
He was positioned to Éomer's left, riding a black horse with the ease of a Rohan. Éomer had thought about Enzi's apprehension to the beasts. She had said that Engoli were not comfortable with horses. "No," he said after a while, "she did not. She was captured."
They rode in silence for a long while, Khemik leading them deeper and deeper within Harad territory. As soon as they'd traveled to the edge of Gondorian territory, a messenger was sent to explain the situation to Aragorn, and to ask him to monitor Rhûn territory, lest they attack Engoli even ask they traveled to the lower edge of Harad for Dingane. They had long since passed this point, now traveling the Harad Road South. "How long before we reach –"
"A few more days," the man said evenly " maybe a week. All depends on the condition of the Harnen River Bridge. And I cannot guarantee what we'll find when we get there. What surprises the Rhûn have left for us." He took another breath before speaking. "You call her Enzi. Why?"
"It was the name she gave us when she traveled north. The name she used to keep her family and people safe as she fought for their freedom." There was venom in his voice. "And for that she is given a trial."
"I see. She said that your people would protect the Harad travelers. The Variag."
Éomer was still uncertain of whether or not he could truly trust the man but he knew that what was left of the Variag were special to him. They had been brought to Edoras from Aldburg moments before the group had left. The boy, Bakari, and the woman had seemed positively shocked to see him. They'd rushed to him, speaking in hushed tones to the man in their language, allowing him to hold the small toddler in his arms. "Your people are more than protected," Éomer finally said, testing his instinct. "You're Variag, aren't you?" It made since. He wore nothing like the tribal necklace Enzi had. He bore no tattoos as she and her brother had. His accent even seemed slightly different. And he was comfortable and confident riding horses where Enzi had been completely against it at first. She had told him herself that the Variag were similar to the Rohan in their love of horses. Maybe he had been captured, or was a refugee and had traveled to Engoli and offered his services after his kingdom was torn in two.
Khemik said nothing to confirm or deny his suspicions. In fact, he said nothing, just knitting his brows together and setting his mouth in resignation. They rode quietly, leading the group though his homeland. It appeared that he'd struck a nerve, or discovered something he should not. The band traveled the rest of the way in silence.
Enzi had grabbed the final attacker's blade from him with her hands, instantly knowing that it had pierced the skin severely. She thought to fling it away from both of them but thought better of it. The others were down but she wasn't sure how long they would be unconscious. If she set the blade down, she could risk further injury.
The next challenge to her credibility with the Armies of Sauron had required her to fight against those in the army. Mfalme Tiziza and Jibran were both more than happy to supply Asana's Msaidizi with challengers. She had started with two. Then four. Now she stood with what was left of ten men and women trained in the Mordorian army. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. She had completely avoided fighting any Harad at the Battle of Pelennor Fields and now was forced to stop them before they killed her.
She slid the blade in her now bleeding right hand, crouching as the man stood in a fighting stance, taking the time to choose his target. In a flash, he lunged for her, crashing his shoulder into her left side. She choked on the air he'd forced out as she fell in the dirt, feeling the blade slip from her bloody hand. The man grabbed for it and she quickly tried to stand, knowing almost instantly that her ribs were bruised if not broken. It had been a spot of continuous attack by the group since the Ordeal had begun. In a strange way, she admired their attention to detail, the choosing of a common strategy. She found a spear and used all of her might to break the blade, smashing the pole onto the ground. By the time the remaining soldier had come for her again, she was ready, smashing him as hard as she could with the remaining pole. The blow to the head seemed to be enough and he staggered, then fell, unconscious. She knew that would have perhaps been more advisable to kill the soldiers, to protect herself from further attack, but she wanted to prove that she could survive without taking a life.
She turned towards the dais, noting the quiet of the crowd. She had expected Chione to decree that she had appropriately answered the accusation but instead found all of the Msaidizi crowded around her sister's throne. The other two Mfalme stood up looking at the group, alarm registering on their face. Maidens and healers rushed in, surrounding the group, forcing their way closer to the young ruler. What had happened?
"Take her back to the Grieves," she heard Chione order and soldiers appeared from behind the wall, to assist those she'd defeated as well as carry her back to her cell. She demanded, then begged for knowledge of what had happened but no soldier dared say anything. She was simply thrown into the cell, the doors bolted as soon as she was inside.
No healers came. No maidens came to assist her. Even the old woman was missing. She began attempting to clean her wounds as best she could but every sound became a reason to stop and listen. The soldiers changed guards quickly, leaving only a few of them to watch her. And when these two spoke, they were sure to whisper, as if ordered to reveal nothing to her.
The sun had long-sense descended and the moon was high when Enzi finally heard someone unbolt the door. The old woman. She came assisted by two women with food, medicine and bandages. The women set the items on the nearby table and left, as if being carried by the wind itself. The old woman looked tired. Very tired. There were visible bags under her eyes. Upon further inspection, Enzi noted that her eyes were full of tears.
"What happened?" Enzi whispered, her throat painfully constricted. "Where's Asana?"
The old woman looked at her, clearly grief-stricken as the tears fell freely from her eyes. "She- She fell. This morning during the Ordeal. She fell from her throne. She was holding her heart. Straining to breathe." Enzi felt herself fold onto the floor, looking up at the woman in disbelief. Tears burned her skin as they fell and the old woman placed a shaky hand on her shoulder. "Healers have been with her all of the day but they are not sure …"
"How ….did this …. happen?" she forced the question out, refusing to sob.
"Mfalme Asana has been ill since the Sickness. We've helped her hide it from her counsellors, the other Mfalme." The woman opened her mouth then closed it slowly, looking out of the small barred window of the cell door. The old woman lowered her voice. "I cannot stay long but I thought you deserved to know this."
"Has she awakened yet?"
The woman shook her head. "No. But do not give up hope, Lady Ghadelyna. The ancestors will care for her. They have to."
The woman left quickly as Enzi stayed slumped on the floor, to confused and grief stricken to move. She remembered what Asana had said. This is a stall tactic. Even if you survive the trials, I may not survive to judge you. She had pushed the thoughts away almost as suddenly as Asana had said it. Now, after coming all of this way, Asana's words could hold true.
She wept into the night and early morning, only catching snatches of sleep. A young maiden brought her food and drink but understandably, no healer came. All were probably still engrossed in the health and well-being of her sister. The city seemed softer, as if each and every citizen was united in prayer to the ancestors. She imagined that some even prayed to Sauron, fully knowing that he was no longer with them and was not able to help. It reminded her of the days after her mother's death. How could it not. And her father's coronation. It had been absolutely horrible and she felt her heart rip in two every time she had to attend an event in Sumayyaa's honor. In the end, the sorrow of her mother's death killed her father, Samir the Great, or so she'd heard it said. And now it was happening again.
She waited until the woman left and looked at the small picture Asana had drawn for her so long ago. "I do not know if you can hear me, baba, mother, or if you and the ancestors are truly deaf to our prayers. After Sauron, I'm not sure if I can believe in anything anymore. But if you can hear me, if you can do anything… please ….please don't take Asana from me. Not now. If you do, our whole kingdom will be either conquered or split like the spoils of some war. She's worked too hard to protect it. To protect what you built. I ….. take me instead if you need someone. If you need some penance paid. I accept the consequence of my actions willingly. Please. Take me."
She felt herself dissolve into sobs and for once allowed it, leaning on the cold wall and allowing the tears to fall. She cried for so long that she barely heard the bolt of the door unlatch. Someone quietly walked into the cell, dressed in shades of dark blue. Only when the door was locked again did Enzi notice her.
"I am so sorry about Mfalme Asana," the woman finally said softly into the still room. "What a horrible situation to happen to such a young Mfalme." Enzi looked up at the Balozi of Rhûn, returning her serene gaze with ice and daggers. The woman glided to a nearby chair, sitting down as Enzi watched her, the seething anger drying her tears. "She must care for you a great deal. And you care for her. Of course you do. Why else would you endure such hardship? And not just endure, but overcome every challenge thrown at you?" She took a breath, looking around the room and what was left of the salves. "But you and I both know that your sister's illness has changed everything. There's no one else to protect you in Engoli. No one who would see your best interest at heart. You are alone."
"Interesting," Enzi said softly, venom laced in every syllable. "I was going to say the same to you."
If the Balozi felt any fear, she hid it well. She stood, dipping her finger in the salve. "My Mfalme tried to help her."
Enzi stood as well. "I've heard of his help. His and yours."
"Now I am authorized to offer that help to you. The people will believe their Mfalme's sickness is due to your guilt. They will certainly demand that the trials continue. But… I can get you safely out of Engoli. Back to your friends in the North. If you'll only hear me. Trust me. "
In an instant, Enzi gripped the woman's neck, pouring what was left of her strength in the action. The Balozi's green eyes shrank in fear and Enzi slammed her against the stone wall. A sinister smile slid over her face. "A difficult thing to do if your neck is broken."
The Balozi struggled to speak , hands gripping Enzi's. "Balozi are protected by tribal law…"
"By the government. By the royal family. By the people. You forget - I stand accused of treason. My sister lies ill. My brother is missing." She brought her face closer to the woman, narrowing her eyes. "And I have nothing to lose. I saved those men within the wall by choice. What motivation would I have save to save you?"
Enzi could see tears form in the woman's green eyes as she continued to struggle. "I-I've….come…..to…. help you….."
"So you have," she said strangely merry, releasing the woman and walking away towards the door. "And because of this, I choose to help you. "I am giving you this opportunity to leave. Now. Because if you do not, I will rip you in two."
The Balozi, who had a long-practiced serenity, looked at the princess a long while, eyes darting to objects in the room that the woman could use as a weapon. She seemed to be lost in thought, perhaps anticipating what her Mfalme would say. But before Enzi could say another word, she stood before the door, and knocked hard against it. "I'm ready to leave," she said to the guard, who immediately released her.
"Balozi?" a serene voice came from the cell. The green-eyed woman stopped but did not turn to the direction of the voice.
"It would be best if I never see you again."
The woman said nothing but continued walking, quickening her pace.
It was three days later before Enzi heard any news. Sawa brought it with the meal, speaking in hushed tones to avoid being heard by the soldiers. Asana was lapsing in and out of consciousness. The healers were monitoring her condition and had advised continued rest. She had been delivering orders to the Msaidizi, which were acting under Chione in her name. And, as the Rhûn Balozi had predicted, Chione had ordered a continuation of the Kesi ya Kifalme (Royal Trial). The ordeals would continue.
"I'm sorry, Lady Ghadelyna," Sawa said softly, sitting down beside the woman and patting her hand.
Enzi had quietly listened to everything the old woman said. When she had finished reporting all she could, Enzi took a strained breath. Whether it was due to the still aggravated injury or what she had to say, no one but her could say. "Tell Chione that I must meet with him as soon as possible. I have a solution to his problem."
"Privately or publically?" Sawa said, tying the cloth tightly. "I doubt Chione will be sympathetic. That was why he was chosen afterall and –"
"Kuzaliwa Upya. (Rebirth)"
"No!" Sawa cried, her voice echoing within the room. She caught herself and brought her face down to Enzi's. "There is still time. Time to prove yourself among the tribe. There is no need for such a rash action."
"Time our Mfalme does not have by your own admission. And this must not hinder Dingane's arrival. They want a symbol. Penance? Then I will play the role I am destined to play."
So what do you think? What happens next? Will Dingane and Éomer get there in time? Will Asana be alright? Will the Balozi for that matter (I've been waiting for this for a long time :D ). Reviews are not only welcomed but appreciated.
