Chapter 17
Reconciled
As they had planned it, Khalil and Lasca quietly left their camp on the Harad Road that night and headed to a small oasis not a mile east.
"Khalil…"
"What?"
"Er, why do you only want to take me?" Lasca asked as they trudged along. Khalil did not answer for a whole minute.
"…You'll see." He finally said.
Lasca knew something was wrong. Khalil, usually cool and collected, was very tense. She herself had a small sense of foreboding in her stomach.
They reached the oasis after what seemed an eternity. Khalil stopped at the edge, took a deep breath, and plunged forward on a narrow path. Lasca followed. It went a ways, rounded a bend and led to a large clearing. Khalil stopped short.
Before him stood the charred frame of a wooden house. It had been that way for some time, for the smell of burning wood had gone. The trees all around were scorched as well. Khalil took a few steps forward and stood, transfixed. Lasca was speechless.
"I…I knew it," he whispered hoarsely. "That night, with the Nazgúl…I saw the house burning, my family being slain by Orcs…my mother, she was screaming…I knew…I told you the visions were lies…but…but I knew…" he fell silent.
Lasca forced her legs to move. She walked up to him and looked at his face. Silent tears were streaming down. A huge wave of pity and love and compassion welled up in her. This boy had been with her through the toughest times in her life. Without him, she would have simply crawled into a hole and died when adversity faced her. He was her rock, her comfort, for all his quirks. Without a word, she embraced him, feeling he would slip away if she let go. They stood there for eternity as the stars wheeled overhead.
On the way back to Gondor, neither Lasca nor Khalil talked much. They told no one about what they had found. Lasca knew subconsciously Khalil wanted it so. It seemed that their bond had tightened substantially since that night. Each now understood the other, having been with them through their worst fears come to life.
Lasca no longer felt worried about what she would say. Something in the back of her mind told her the words would come.
Once the nine arrived at Minas Tirith, everything became a whirlwind of activity. All of them were introduced to the King, and each gave their argument on why Harad should be pardoned. It was decided, however, that the plea for pardon would be a single speech given to the King and the people of the White City in the courtyard of the White Tree. Realizing she would be addressing hundreds of people, Lasca felt a twinge of fear. However, when the day arrived, she simply felt resolve. The other eight Haradrim said little to each other, but in their own way lent their support to her. Soon all her doubts were drowned out by her sheer conviction that what she was doing was right and good.
The nine Haradrim stood on a raised platform, well over the crowd. Lasca stood in front, dressed in her usual clothes. Many in the audience were muttering and pointing at her. She kept her head high, stealing a glance to her left. Khalil offered her a smile. A second later the silver trumpets sounded, and a herald introduced Lasca and told of her plea. It was met with a few catcalls, though mostly shocked glances. Taking a deep breath, she began.
"(People of Minas Tirith, I stand before you today as one who has been wronged by Sauron. I, and my people.
"(Promising us escape from our harsh desert by offering us the fair lands of the North, he hoped to spur us to battle. Many among us, forced to watch our families scrounge for food year after year, agreed to fight, desperate for a better life. We cared not that Sauron was known for his shrewd deceitfulness, for we felt it was the only chance we had at survival.
"(Many had also heard stories passed down from their forefathers of the few cruel Nùmenorean Lords who suppressed the Haradrim. This also led many to fight against Gondor.
"(I do not beg for pardon alone, for I know that few foreigners know the true people of Harad. They stand before you now.
"(A mother; widowed by war.
"(A soldier; beaten, broken, and disillusioned.
"(Elders, forced to watch their children die before themselves.
"(Singers and storytellers, the few who know the real history of our people and who would be killed if they were to reveal it to them.
"(A boy who has lost his whole family.
"(And I who have lost my father.
"(All of us, searching for a grain of truth in a desert of lies. This is the face of Harad Sauron hid from you! He did not want you to see that, though many miles separate us, in heart and mind we are as brothers and sisters.
"(I stand here today also as one who has been forced to shoulder the burden of my ancestors. I speak of those wretched Men who betrayed the Alliance to Morgoth, the Black Foe of the World, during the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Battle of Unnumbered Tears.)"
Here Lasca paused, breathing hard. Her vision became blurry, and the crowd swam before her eyes. In its place she saw shadowy figures of Men and Elves. In her ears the sounds of battle roared. She could see the faces of three very clearly. Subconsciously she knew who they were. Two were Men of similar look and build, and both with fair hair: the brothers Hùrin and Huor. Their gazes pierced her mind. They were nothing, however, compared to the third figure: an Elf Lord with dark hair and clear gray eyes. This was Fingon, the High King of the Noldor himself. He was standing, though his tattered clothes and armor were awash in blood and much of him was badly burned. His gaze was not piercing; rather, it was a sad, hopeless look. Lasca wished he would look away from her; she felt she was going to cry. Desperately she continued talking, though she could barely hear herself over the clashes and screams.
"(Though I still mourn for those lost in that fateful battle,)" she continued, the roaring reaching a fevered pitch, "(I know in my heart that those powerless to change what happened should not be condemned!)" she cried. Fingon closed his eyes, bowing his head. The vision and the noise faded. Lasca found herself looking at an awed crowd. "(In finishing my plea…I simply ask you to find it in your hearts to understand and forgive.)" She looked around at the faces turned towards her. As her eyes met each one, she connected with the person. More than anything, she wanted each person to know her pain and see that it was the same they held in their hearts, and that her hope was their hope. A sudden presence above her made her glance up. Nothing was there, save for the giant blue bowl of sky. However, she knew she was being watched over. A slow smile spread on her face as a sense of peace enveloped her. The golden Sun hung in the firmament, shining down on all.
Okay, only the epilogue to go. Perhaps I'm overreacting, but are only two or three people actually reading this? I'll finish it, but part of the reason I write is so I can get feedback from others. I can't make you review, but please consider it. Thanks.
