Chapter 16

Emissary II

Later that morning the four set out, Al'alim mounted on a scrappy gray stallion. They decided to head southeast. Not too long into their journey, a tiny dark speck appeared ahead of them on the sand. As they came closer, they realized that it was someone on a small steed.

"No, wait! It's two people!" informed Lasca, shading her eyes. Voices reached her ears. "Hey, I think they need help." However, she had misinterpreted the sounds.

A rather strange scene met their eyes as they came upon them. An elderly woman sat astride a small donkey. An old man, presumably her husband, was leading it. They both had white hair, the man's very thin. Their skin was very wrinkled and leathery. They were not calling for help; they were singing, rather off key. It was an old folk song. They sang in time with the donkey's steps, and his long head and sad face nodded in time as well. Lasca had to stifle a laugh. The elderly couple caught sight of them. "Oh, Gadiel! Is it bandits?!" fearfully questioned the old lady in a scratchy voice. The old man brandished his walking stick.

"Now, look here!" he cried angrily at the four. "We are on a noble mission, and have very little money! You best leave us be!"

"And what mission would that be?" asked Fatima, amused.

"We are going to the King of Gondor and ask him to help our country!" answered the woman defiantly. The four gaped at them.

"Ha, well, what a coincidence! So are we!" said Khalil finally.

"Well, sir, you are heading the wrong way. Gondor is north you know. You should know that at your age," replied Gadiel.

"Er, my age? I'm only seventeen," Khalil answered.

"But you have white hair! Get down here so I can have a better look at you."

Khalil obligingly dismounted and walked up to Gadiel. The old man grabbed his chin and peered in his face. "Hmmmm, well, you sure look young…no wrinkles…got all your teeth…" it was then Khalil noticed Gadiel was missing quite a few. "Well," Gadiel straightened up. "I guess you are a youngster. Now, what was it you said? You're going to save Harad too?"

"Yes," Lasca replied. They had all dismounted at this point. "We're going around Harad looking for people who want to join us."

"Well, isn't this just perfect!" the old woman clapped her hands. "We can join you! I am Mariam, by the way."

Al'alim looked like he had misgivings. He had a private word with the other three. "Are we sure we want them to join us?" he asked. "They'll slow us down, and we're already going slow enough, with Mom here…" he jutted a thumb at Fatima, who gave him a chilly glare.

"Come on, we can't just leave them out in the desert!" pleaded Lasca. "Anyway, aren't we looking for different people to support our cause? I hadn't thought of elders, but they are important."

"I must agree with Lasca," Fatima said.

"Me too," seconded Khalil.

"Oh, very well."

So the four continued on their way, now with six. "By the way," asked Fatima as they rode, "why do you want to do this?"

Mariam sighed. "Gadiel and I had four sons in our time. All of them went off to war. All of them died."

"I'm sorry," said Khalil sympathetically.

"Both of us were," Gadiel replied. "However, we came to realize that we were more sorry for ourselves for enduring such a horrible loss."

"We decided we had to do something," continued Mariam. "Something that would prevent this from happening ever again. We left our tribe and set out."

"In our hearts we knew there was little chance of our succeeding, but it felt good to be doing something. Now, however, I really think we will make a difference." Gadiel smiled up at Lasca. She smiled back, though wanly. A burden seemed to have settled on her shoulders.

That evening they all rejoiced as a large oasis came into view. All, that is, except Lasca. Gadiel's words had triggered something in her mind. When I get back, she thought, I have to convince whole nations –that we have attacked— that we are not all that bad. Oh, dear Valar… She stared down at Malak's dark mane, mind working furiously. Khalil noticed her silence.

"Hey, don't worry about anything now. Remember what Arwen said."

"Yes, yes, the Valar are with us," Lasca replied absentmindedly. Khalil knew it was no use.

It turned out that a few tribes had gathered at the oasis. The six were free to go anywhere, since it was no single tribe's ground. They split up. Khalil and Lasca walked around together. They were attracted by a commotion nearby.

Pushing through the crowd, they came upon a performance troupe. Two women, stunningly beautiful and nearly identical, danced to drums, tambourines, and flutes. The women wore bells on their wrists and ankles. Their flowing movements mesmerized Lasca, firelight glinting off their dark hair.

Looking around, something surprised her: all the people watching were smiling and laughing, clapping in time to the rhythm. Elsewhere in the camp, no one had seemed the least bit happy. She told this to Khalil. He smiled knowingly. "I know. It's amazing that music and dancing alone can lift the spirits, even in times such as these."

Lasca continued to watch. Among the musicians, there was one man who stood out: he was large and jovial; his white-bearded face in a constant smile that looked like it could erupt into laughs at any second, and it often did. He seemed to be the lead drummer. Lasca was amazed at how deftly his large hands could produce such complicated rhythms.

People began trickling away as the show ended, but Khalil led Lasca towards the group. "Farran! Hey, Farran! Is that you?" he called to the drummer. He turned.

"Well, I'll be damned! Khalil, I thought I'd never see you again!" he roared good-naturedly, clapping him on the back. "Oh, and who might this be?" he asked slyly, eyeing Lasca. She felt blush rising in her cheeks.

"I'm Lasca, sir," she said timidly.

"Oho!" Farran said knowingly, turning back to Khalil. "And here Dalia was telling me that she was yours!"

Khalil blushed deeper than Lasca. "Uh, I don't th—"

"What was that, daddy?" asked one of the dancer girls, appearing at Farran's side. She looked at the two. "Oh, Khalil!" she exclaimed, embracing him. Lasca felt herself grow hotter.

"Sister, I hope you remember you're promised to another man," said the other dancing girl dryly, walking up to them.

"I know, Buthaynah! C'mon, I was kidding," she giggled. "Let's go, we have to set up the tents." They walked off. "See you, dear!" she called back to Khalil.

Farran chuckled, watching them leave. "So what brings you here, in Gondorian armor, no less?"

"How did you know?" asked Khalil, looking down at his cloak.

"I caught a glimpse of it when Dalia attacked you," he laughed.

"Well, it's a bit of a long story…"

"Come and sit, we have all night."

Farran brought them to his tent. The two related the story to him.

"By the way, Farran, what happened to Abdul?" asked Khalil awkwardly. The older man sighed.

"My son got conscripted at a camp we stopped at. He did not want to, knowing the truth about our history—"

"Wait a second, you know the story?" exclaimed Khalil. Farran nodded.

"Singers and storytellers often know the truth, boy. The songs have been passed down through my family from a time when we were not sundered from other Men."

"We know them by heart," said Dalia, entering the tent.

"Yes, they have been passed down to us," added Buthaynah, appearing behind her. "However, Sauron didn't like the truth being told. Were we to have spread our knowledge, our corpses would be drying in the sand by now," she stated matter-of-factly. Dalia gave her a horrified look.

"Well, now that my lovely twin daughters have decided to join us," Farran said, "I'll give you a proposition: we shall join you and help you in your cause."

After eagerly accepting Farran's offer, Lasca and Khalil walked back to their site. "When did you meet them?" asked Lasca, turning to Khalil.

"Oh, I've run into them plenty of times. They're good people, like family," He said. "Farran's taught me a lot, just about life, really. I've always been good friends with the twins." He laughed. "I've known Dalia liked me for a long time."

"Er, what do you think of her?" Lasca asked tentatively. Khalil gave her an odd look.

"I think of her more like a sister. Why?"

"Nothing, really. What's Buthaynah like? She seems so, I don't know…"

"Blunt? Yeah, that's her." Khalil laughed. "She doesn't care what comes out of her mouth as long as she gets her point across." They were silent for a moment.

"Khalil, do you suppose we have enough people?"

He was thoughtful for a minute. "Yes, I think we do. There are nine of us. Huh, isn't that funny! Just like the Fellowship."

"I suppose we are a fellowship of sorts," Lasca laughed softly, then fell silent.

"…What's wrong?"

"I was just wishing I would find my tribe again. I know there's little chance; they could be anywhere."

"Don't worry; I'll help you search another time." Khalil paused. "I was thinking we would head directly east towards the Harad Road and go from there. Maybe…maybe I could…" Khalil let his thought hang.

"Maybe you could what?" asked Lasca, glancing at him. He was gazing at the sky.

"…I was thinking I should see my family again."


Okay, two more chapters after this, including a small epilogue. This is the home stretch, people, and boy is the next chapter packed! Thank you for reading this far! Oh, and to you people who have me on author alert but haven't reviewed, I know who you are!!

Rede: The funny thing is I actually considered that at one point. I don't think I have enough time left to develop their relationship though. However, I could have a little something after the epilogue and say what my secondary charas are up to. Tell me what you think. Thanks!