These Men So Unafraid To Die*
By Nerwen Calaelen
Chapter 2: Kirgonz
Disclaimer: I own nothing that is recognisable from the works of Tolkien. I (possibly) own the characters I invented and other odds and ends, but nothing else!
A/N: An update! Sorry it is so short, but hopefully the chapters will get longer as I go. I reposted chapter 1 with a few changes, and a little bit more at the end.
*The title is from the English translation of 'Cyrano de Bergerac' by Edmond Rostand, but I can't remember the translator's name, I've got a copy of that version at home and so when I've been back will try and remember to add the translator's name.
Rating: PG. (I don't know – this seemed as good a guess as any)
Replies to reviewers: Otakuprincess: I look forward to seeing what you think of this. Thank you for leaving a little note – I meant that I knew that you had read this, even though I've no idea what you thought of it.
Soledad: Glad you liked it. Thank you very much for the review. My only concern is that all the thoughts in the first chapter were supposed to be Earnil's, not Ondoher's. His sons will appear in the next chapter, and probably Earnur and Pelendur as well.
***
Khand – Late Summer, 1940 Third Age
Their attacks are growing stronger, wave after wave of men breaks against our walls, but now I sense a change in the mood of the battle, one of their leaders is coming forward. He has drawn the men back from the battle and stands in front of them looking up at our walls.
"I would speak to however is in authority here." His words ring out, strongly accented but easily understandable. I stand up and lean out,
"That would be me." I hesitate, hating myself for my indecision, but then continue, "Kirgonz, son and heir to the glorious Emperor. Who wishes to parley?"
"Arrargaz, grandson of Garmillez."
This man standing before me is the grandson of the greatest of their heroes. The tale of Garmillez is a legend to these people, he died only forty-one years ago, yet seems a hero from another age. I know not to underestimate the man who stands in front of me, if he had inherited half of his grandfather's worth, he must be a great man. I signal to the men to stand down and open the gate,
"Let us meet and talk, then. Come in and share a meal."
He is uncertain, does he not trust me? He must know enough of our customs to know that he is safe under the truce and that sharing the food brings him within my protection, whilst he is my guest.
"Very well."
***
We eat in silence, waiting for all the attendants to depart.
"On what subject do you wish to speak?" I will not start this, although I have some idea where this conversation may lead.
"I wish to propose the idea of an alliance between my people and yours. It has come to my attention that we have not revenged ourselves on Gondor for the defeat at Dagolad."
It is as I expected, but he is so blunt about it.
"I see the advantages for your people, but for mine, what would be the advantages of an alliance as opposed to a truce?"
"A worthy enemy to fight, Gondor is powerful and rich. A war would bring many spoils as well as much glory." He stops, seeing in my eyes that he has won. How could I refuse the opportunity, I dream of being a hero, but to be a hero you must fight heroes.
"The decision is not mine to take. I will return to the capital tomorrow to speak with my father on this, if I have your word that this frontier will remain peaceful."
"My word, willingly. May you have success. I will await your return. Then we can make plans for the war, I look forward to fighting beside you."
"The honour will be mine, if it comes to pass."
****