THE HALADIN

by Archaic Scribe

Chapter IV
THE SUMMIT AT MULCO

Haleth commanded deep concentration with the efficiency created from many years of practice of as a priestess and pictured Bryeth, long midnight hair flowing past broad, chiseled shoulders with a look reserved only for her that shown savage devotion, softened only by the warmth in his light brown eyes.

Her memory traveled back to the spring feast held last year in Bryeth, near the foot of Mount Dolmed, where many couples of their clans were joined in union. With the festivities waning, Haleth, as solitaire an Edain as ever there was, meant to make a quick trip to the steamy spring of great renown located in a nearby wood on Bryeth's lands, wishing that Lord Bryeth would join her.

Alas, it would be as it was willed by fate. After having a refreshing bath, perhaps she could tempt the good Lord Bryeth to partake in the luxurious bathing ritual after his duties of host were done with for this night. A steambath at dawn, she thought wistfully, knowing the master of these lands would be too occupied with duty. This would not be a reality for her to enjoy, yet.

Their intentions had been announced to only a few on this day, which meant they intended to be joined in the following year's spring festival. Haleth looked forward to exploring the special bathing area and occupied her mind with the fantasy of what would come when they were joined in the eyes of all the clans.

The picture in her mind's eye of Bryeth's tender, yet ferocious gaze had then steeled her against the fear she had been feeling at being caught unaware by a drunken and belligerent Lord Tunni during her fanciful trip. How it happened, she remembered not.

Before the reality of the situation could become clear, she found herself under the resolute pressure of Tunni's body pressed over hers, meeting her rigid and uninviting frame. The top of his half of his body was raised above her, and in Haleth's mind, seemed to be suspended in time and space. He looked down at her as the beams of moon filtered through a cloudy sky, showing flashes of lust from his greedy eyes. Both Haleth and Tunni laid upon the forest floor, deep within the woods. They were in the thickest part of the forest near a grove of ash trees, and for Haleth, there was no hope of escape.

No, she thought with determination when what was happening finally set into her methodological reasoning, it was her wits and wiles that may make a women such as her a capable enemy against a man's might and brawn.

Giving Lord Tunni an inviting smile, she met his predatorial gaze and wrapped her arms around his neck, urging him on top of her as she ran her fingers through his dark hair as it spilled upon her flesh. With little wasted effort, he had quickly begun to paw at her clothes, moving her dress down to reveal the smooth skin of her milk-white shoulders.

Haleth gently pushed him to his back, leading him into her trap as he forcefully pulled down the rest of her top to the waistband of her dress, treated to a show of alabaster breasts, highlighted by pale moonlight. Though the release of her breasts from the restraining garments would have normally been a welcome feeling, it only urged Haleth forward with her quickly formulating plan.

She gritted her teeth and cursed wildly in her head that Tunni should get such an indulgence at her expense. Haleth quickly recovered control, steadying her thoughts as an adrenaline rush of nervous excitement filled her heart and sent her stomach into chaos.

She challenged him with her eyes and he responded, taking her breasts in his large, powerful hands and then kneading them like dough, raising his mouth to explore what taste they may offer to him.

Instead of entertaining his further selfish indulgence, she smiled seductively and stood-up, taking a step back to place herself near his knees. Haleth made a dramatic gesture to remove the rest of her clothes when suddenly, her mouth spread into a wide grin before she grimaced and sent a mighty kick to his groin.

Her thoughts of shame at having to use her body coupled with Tunni seeing her half-naked form could not fully surface as she turned and ran as fast as her feet would allow. Haleth felt the snap of hostile branches against her bare skin, but continued to spur herself onward with an insulted, but extremely proud, manner superimposed on her face.

Fear, she found out later, would replace that giddy feeling of victory. With every encounter she had with Lord Tunni, she cringed inwardly, knowing a powerful man like him would most certainly extract his own revenge at some future moment in time. He was also proud and, like her, refused to discuss their encounter with any, though for much different reasons.

Despite her fear, Haleth longed to tell Bryeth of this encounter, but later reasoned that Lord Tunni had not been among those who knew of their recent engagement. Besides, Haleth was embarrassed and angered. Furthermore, she reasoned, Bryeth's anger, added to her father's outrage, would be brutal. There would be little doubt of a civil war among the clans.

Before long, Tunni found out of their betrothal along with the rest of the people as the rumor spread among the settlements. He had accosted her, not knowing of her engagement to Bryeth. Yet, she wondered why he would presume to dare force himself on the daughter of one of the tribe's leaders in such a manner.

But, she reasoned, he had been drunk and nothing had come of his vengeance toward her yet, except for the growing apprehension she had when she was near him. That was an emotion she alone would deal with, and thus be able to safeguard the worst that could possibly happen to their already scattered peoples.

Haleth breathed deeply, recalling herself to the present. Picking up the sage, she drew invisible symbols in the air. Then, resting the herb upon her brow for a moment, she laid it over her heart before setting it back down upon the stone shelf of the well.

Setting the carved bowl down upon the ground she kneeled and sprinkled a small amount of earth and sage onto the water's surface. Next, she plucked a strand of hair and adding it to the mixture as she gently swirled the now murky water, chanting the words used by the Ancient Ones.

Haleth closed her eyes and focused on what she was entreating the mirror to see as she invoked Urth and felt the breeze sweep violently in answer as she opened her eyes and looked into the now crystal clear, smooth surface of water.

A battle cry blasted from Bryeth's lips before he set his jaw and bared his teeth in aberration, bravely leading what little number of warriors he had into the onslaught of Orcs that came upon them with no warning.

As his lean, muscular frame cut down what seemed like multitudes of the filthy, blackened enemy, he made an abnormal pause and looked up into the horizon. In the distance, Haleth could see a small hillside.

Suddenly a look of surprise and relief crossed his handsome, weathered features. However, in a subtle instant of realization, his eyes immediately narrowed. Haleth followed his gaze in her vision, but a heavy veil of mist was drawn before her, obstructing her view as she struggled vainly to see what it is her lover had seen during his final battle on Middle-earth.

An ill-tempered wind seemed to murmur a warning into her ear as the vision ended, "You know well that this is not your memory to possess, and you will have to bear a heavy burden for your willfulness! You, a priestess trained, should have better judgement and control of your personal desires."

Haldar arrived with Lord Tunni and his entourage into the bustling trading town of Mulco, located between the River Gelion and the River Ascar. After a total of three day's ride from Tunni, Haldar was glad to receive a fully thorough bath at the household of Mulco, where he and Tunni finally parted.

Already, an informal court was in session as the different tribes talked amongst themselves in whispered conversations taking place in public domains. The dark blue eyes and black hair of the People of Tunni always seemed to look menacing and fierce as they spoke little, even amongst themselves, while the tribes that rallied under Mulco were a mixture of good humor and varied physical appearance.

Only those of the ancient folk of Mulco could claim the fair hair and the light blue eyes similar to the people of Hador Goldenhead. This ancient folk had mingled amongst the array of assimilated families from all regions that made their residence in this small city of commerce.

Mulco was a thriving city, albeit modest, featuring trade of all goods imaginable and set in a ripe location where the two rivers of Ascar and Gelion crossed. Like his ancestors who parted and established a realm in Estolad, Mulco was thought of with polite disregard by Caranthir, the Noldor Lord who dwelled north of the scattered settlements of the tribes of the Haladin.

The tribal leaders only awaited the arrival of Canute before the formal assembly ensued, which should be anytime now, in Haldar's estimate. Haleth should have only been a day or two behind their party. He trusted that she would be more persuasive than any other could be when set to the task of convincing the most respected shaman of all the realms, Lord Canute, to come to a council outside of his own secret and protected realm.

The meetings were never successfully peaceful, in Haldar's reckoning, due to the difference in some of the cultures and priorities of whose occupations were most noteworthy.

In times like this the importance of a warrior clan, even one as small in size as those under Lord Tunni, would be valued over the many tribes that produced farmers and seers, or that even of merchants.

"Haldar," Haldad said in greeting after his son emerged from the bathhouses of Mulco. "It is likely that I should find you here."

"Aye," Haldar replied kindly in the face of his father's joy. "I was in much need of cleansing the grim from such a dusty and hard journey."

A laugh danced up to his father's eyes and was expressed in voice. The elder of the two men wondered if recalling so many similar adventures in his long lifetime would astound or bore his only son. There would be plenty of time for such tales, he reasoned as he pushed the immediate urge away, over future years to pass with his son and grandson. Perhaps even by then, Haldar would have some more exciting stories of his own to add.

"Yes, my boy!" Haldad boomed with good humor, "A journey such as that would well warrant such fine a reward and treatment."

Haldar laughed along with his father before the pleasantries passed, and the subject of the matter playing on Haldad's mind was broached.

"Haleth will arrive with whoever of the nomads under Canute's rule will come," he said to his father as they fell in step beside each other, making their way to the Great Hall of Mulco.

"That too, I assumed," Haldad said cynically, but allowing a small grin to cross his face, as he marveled at the intuitiveness from his offspring.

Knowing the act was up, Haldad asked with concern, "How is my daughter?"

Haldar answered with a tone of amusement in his voice, "She is Haleth, father. No more, no less. The news disturbed her, to be sure, but it did not break her. Did you think it would?"

Haldad smiled now, directly at his son, holding down an urge to pry with more questions, and put an affectionate arm around Haldar, "I am gladdened to hear such news."

By the end of the afternoon, Haleth had arrived with Canute himself, to everyone's surprise, as well as many of the various leaders of the nomadic tribes whose scattered dwellings were along the foot of Mount Dolmed, near the Ered Luin.

Haldad smiled warmly at his kin, waiting for his opportunity, and after making the formal and traditional greetings, lunged toward Canute, engulfing him in an affectionate embrace.

"I am glad to see you, dearest of all my kin," Canute said in a low voice, before pulling away from Haldad's embrace so he could turn to his daughter.

"My Haleth," Haldad whispered with soulful admiration as his eyes began to mist for a brief moment before he pushed the comparison of mother to daughter away from his conscience mind.

Haleth looked at him and saw a hint of sadness behind his normally bright eyes and reached out to embrace him.

"I think I know a little of the sadness you have felt for so many years, father," she said softly into his ear before breaking away from him, a brave smile upon her face.

"More than a little," Haldad replied solemnly after Haleth departed with a servant of Mulco to the Great Hall for fresh clothing and a much needed bath.

Haldad frowned, his eyes following her into the house of Mulco, but before he could dwell on his encounter with his daughter, Canute put a strong hand on his shoulder.

Haldad's smile abruptly grew wide as he turned and went with Canute into the Great Hall. The two talked with good nature of insignificant things, before Canute and his associates were shown to their quarters. After they had all bathed and eaten, they would have a well-earned night of rest before attending the summit scheduled for the next day.

Later that evening, in the dim torchlight of the stone hall, Lord Tunni spotted Haleth, but remained at his present distance as he noted Haldad's position out of his peripheral vision.

Though his thoughts of having to challenge Haldad's anger made his adrenaline pump twice as hard as normal, he questioned who would be the victor in such a fight. Not only was Haldad tall and sturdy, he was cunning and unlike most of the peace-loving priests Tunni knew. No, he thought, this particular godi fought bravely and with honor whenever a time called for it, unlike the passive Lord Canute. There was also something about Haldad's manner of fighting that seemed a bit mad and desperate.

Tunni's thoughts involuntarily drifted to the battlemaiden, and later wife of Haldad, who used to charge at his side into the fray. Tunni quickly shook off the vision. Her look forced his mind to drift again to Haleth, who stood erect and regal in an olive-colored gown of velvet. The green of her dress only seemed to accent her light eyes, giving them an exotic look that was framed with her dark brown hair, unrestrained and falling like silk around devilishly high cheekbones.

There was a brief thought of her toned backside, in tight riding britches and tunic, leather boots hugging lean legs running up to a shapely waist. It was the only part of her he had not been able to view as of yet, and the part that most intrigued his imagination.

He dared not imagine the clean, herbal smell that must now be emanating from her - a smell so different from what he was accustomed to, or cared for, because of its strong tenor on his senses. He remembered the first few times when he had women who had come to his bed freshly doused in the floral fragrances of herbs and perfumes, and they had barely escaped unbroken from his ardent cravings.

He preferred Haleth, or any woman for that matter, to emit the smell of a long journey where sweat was drawn out of the pores by hot rays of sun and the dust created by hooves blew and stuck to the skin, layering itself one over the other as the hours of the day waned. The most natural essence generated from the body was a scent with which he could assure himself complete and utter control, remaining steady enough to thoroughly enjoy his pleasure.

If Haleth had not been bathed so fragrantly that night at Bryeth, and if he had not been so intoxicated and uncontrollable, he would have been able to take his time and seduce her into his authority. Instead, his overindulgence in drink, and that damnable scent of hers, had made him over-confident and greedy, pushing his wants of pleasure at a time he would have known in sobriety to have been unripe.

He knew exactly why she had refused a full bath at his home. Tunni grinned for a fleeting moment, recalling how she had often indulged in cleansing rituals when at the training grounds of Canute, and how the smell of her own stench must have at least irritated her during her stay at his hidden stronghold.

Tunni did not know if it was a trick of the dim light in the Great Hall or if her skin looked to be pink. He settled on the later, knowing she had been riding much, as of late, to bring news and gather the tribes in the face of the Orc-raids. The normally pale features that graced her face were now a rosey pink in the flickering flames of the banquet room.

He would have laughed aloud, but instead he shook the thought away, a resentful grimace portrayed on his dark features, turning his sadistic gaze to the fire that licked toward the flue of Mulco's stone hearth.

A penetrating look, intent on nothing less than harmful possession, rendered Tunni's face a mask of displeasure and frustration as he commanded his thoughts away from the tall, Amazonian maiden. Taking a large swig of wine imported from Haldad's land, he quickly spit it out toward the fire, detesting the taste that swung his thoughts again to Haleth.

Watching Lord Tunni, Haleth smiled to herself, knowing she was inside a protective boundary. Her fear subsided into a dangerous safety zone as she entertained the thoughts of vengeance she thought to force upon Lord Tunni someday.

However, a mortified voice somewhere in the depths of her being screamed a drowned-out warning against the enthusiasm of her own anger, warning against further wrath from mysterious powers beyond the reckoning of any who resided on Middle-earth.

Haldad caught her eye, giving his daughter a puzzled look of interest before he motioned to his children that it was time to depart for the evening. In walking with their father away from the gathering, they practiced the time-honored custom required for those accompanying the leader of their tribe. In unity, it was thought by their ancestors that those who depart with their leader could never be accused of treason against their godi, assuming as that thought may be to those practiced in the arts of deception.

With a devious wink, Haleth passed Lord Tunni, who barely nodded a departing greeting to Godi Haldad and his children as they passed him, making their way down a corridor filled with the dancing shadows cast from flaming torches hung on either side of granite walls.

The next morning arrived early for the servants who were set quickly to their chores cleaning up the remains from the party the previous evening. While most of the dignitaries slept into mid-morning, Canute and many of his tribesmen shown to be the exception to most of the tribal leaders and their respective parties who had consumed too much of everything, choosing gluttony over moderation.

As the mid-day meal passed with little ceremony, the afternoon drew to a close and the evening fires stretched out across a large clearing surrounded by ash and oak where an oath-stone dominated the center of the ring.

Only important council took place under the sky's roof, where no fabricated walls might contain the purity of a gift considered to be straight from the deities. Clean and clear air, representing the power of the gods and believed by most of the scattered tribes to propagate the same attributes to the mind of those in attendance, who were truly with the gods in accordance with the Old Faith.

However, it was widely known that the practices of the Old Faith were receding, especially among the tribes of Mulco and Tunni. Mulco, with the outside interference and mingling of other Edain who were not of their tribes and Tunni with his whispered slanders and rebellious practices.

Tunni, more than Mulco, was on the verge of completely breaking with all the customs of the Old Faith and refusing to follow the basic laws set by the ancient leaders who remained in the east, foreboding the journey over the Blue Mountains. It was Tunni they needed most at this time, and Tunni, who they would have to woe, although many of the tribes would have wished to excommunicate him.

It was the custom of the tribes that gathered to make ceremonial introductions and presentations before the main agenda of the debate was started, where the host leader would speak first, opening up the debate for the assembled chieftains.

Towards the end of Mulco's address, Tunni could hold his place no longer and at Mulco who's plan was to flee and beg the safe haven of Caranthir, the fair Eldar king of the North.

Though Haldad and Canute shared Tunni's desire to remain separate from the Eldar at all cost, they did not express support due his disrespectful and condescending temper directed at Mulco.

A vicious bickering broke out among the two tribes. Canute raised his hands, his normally quiet, reflective voice rose with torrential fury, as if thunderbolts were about to reign down from the very heavens.

"Silence! You ignorant, arrogant fools!"

All attention was drawn instantly to Canute, who was now standing with formidable indignation, as the lips and words of opposing forces aimed in argument were froze in mid-breath.

Tunni held his tongue, barely, out of forced respect, glaring harshly at the old man as he awaiting his next words with the others of the convention who stood near the center of a ring.

"Bickering children!" Canute raged, looking directly at Tunni. "Can you not exchange any views in a respectable manner?"

Tunni felt as if he was the small child again that his mother had sent to Canute to be schooled under the ancient seer, learning to battle only with the tools of his mind. The resistance he had directed at Lord Canute back in those days was futile, and finally after many months, he opened his mind to the arts of intellectual war.

After stubborn days spent in various trials of argument to thwart the attempts of his lessons at the hands of the priests, he realized it was to his advantage to learn all arts of war, including the secret mental arts of unity with the higher keys of learning which could unlock the mind. After he had reasoned with himself to learn what he could, he completed only the minimal training required, if only to please his mother and escape the tutelage of Canute, who seemed invaded his mind far too often.

After a long silence, Lord Canute continued in a languid voice. "I declare an impasse, then, between the House of Mulco and the House of Tunni. Let us hear what Godi Haldad would say on the matter."

"My kin," Haldad began boldly, with a hint of anger, boiling beneath the surface of an entreating facade. "How can we band together to fight the Orc if we fight so viciously amongst ourselves?"

Disclaimer:

Characters and situations of The Silmarillion (Second Edition) by J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Christopher Tolkien are the property of The J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright Trust and Christopher Reuel Tolkien.

Produced solely for the enjoyment of other fans and not for any monetary profit. Please do not sue me, as I have little money.