Chapter Fourteen: Decisions and Announcements

He gazed in silence at the wooden house in front of him, watching as Inang A'raw cast her light upon it, giving it a warm, golden hue. He heard her voice, chanting out a welcome to the sun, as was her duty as babaylan of their people.

He recalled the strangers who had arrived only yesterday, and felt jealousy knife its way through his heart. It is not right, he thought. Why should Sinag-Tala feel drawn to these folk, to these people whom she knew nothing of? She did not know what they were like, knew nothing of their customs and their ways. They were genteel in their ways, true, but that may have been only a façade for them to hide behind.

He remembered the way she had looked at one of the strangers – the one who was named Ereinion. He saw the way her face flushed at his smile, the way she seemed to grow flustered at his attentions. Sinag-Tala had never acted that way before around anyone. She had always been cool-headed, presenting a calm attitude that showed she was in control, even if the situation was already getting quite out-of-hand.

She certainly had never acted that way around any man before. Many had been teased in her direction, but she had always laughed, and said that there was nothing there. She had many male friends, who respected her as their leader and priestess, and loved her as a friend and sister. Some might have once entertained the thought of being wed to her, but since he had made his intentions known to his fellows three months ago, none had dared to challenge him:

"Someday soon, I will ask her to marry me."

His friends laughed then. It was a common joke amongst them: someone would express a wish to marry Sinag-Tala, but then they would never push through with the plan. They often took bets as to how long it would be before the unfortunate soul would concede that he had never asked the question of Sinag-Tala.

Lawin chortled as he carefully picked apart a roasted fish. "Yes, yes, we have heard that before, Hiraya. How many of us here have said the same thing, and never gone through with it? If any one of us had asked her that question, then she would have probably been well and married since she was eighteen."

Hiraya turned his gaze to them. "I am completely serious. I will ask her sometime soon, but not now."

The look on his face and the tone of his voice made it very, very clear that he was serious. This was no small thing spoken of jokingly amongst them; it was something he had thought long and hard over, and it was something he was intent on doing.

"Are you sure that you will do it?" Agila asked, having not spoken until that moment. "She is not just one of those maidens who flirt with you all the time, Hiraya. She is leader, and babaylan, and daughter of Taer Manansala."

Naraga nodded in agreement. "And let us not forget that she is a warrior as well, the equal of yourself when it comes to the sword and the spear. Women like her do not give their hand freely to just anyone." He smiled as he leaned back. "Take me, for instance. It was no easy feat, winning Pambuanan's hand. In fact, I still have scars from the times when she tried to make her point clear to me that she did not want to marry. Not that her threats and attacks served her well in the end, but they certainly hurt when she inflicted them!"

Hiraya nodded. "I am aware of all that you have said, but I believe that I am worthy of her. We have known each other since our childhood, and we have been friends for as long as that. She might have her duties now to think of, but I know that she still looks upon Talim and I as her dearest friends and companions. While I hesitate to say that I know her completely, I would not hesitate to say that I know her better than any of you here – enough, perhaps, to hope that she will consider my proposal."

Hinango, the eldest in their group and the only one who had really had the courage to ask Sinag-Tala for her hand in marriage, asked then, "Has she ever looked upon you with the same forlorn look that the other maidens give you?"

Hiraya shook his head, though he did not see the point in Hinango's question. "No."

"Not even in private?"

"No. But she is not like the other maidens."

Hinango shook his head. "Even if she were not, she would have shown some sign that she was drawn to you, no matter how small it might have been. Go, and ask her for her hand if you wish, but I do hope that you will not take it so badly if she refuses your offer."

He had asked for her hand. He had seen the flustered look on her face, the surprise and the discomfort at being caught off-guard. She had not dismissed him with finality, the way she had done with Hinango, but she gave him no certainties, either. Something in him had been disappointed that she had not accepted his offer right then and there, but he knew that was just his pride. He would give her time, wait for an answer. Whether she accepted his offer or not was not for him to decide.

But then, the strangers had arrived, and everything changed.

Why had she never looked at him the way she looked at the strangers? Was he somehow unworthy? Was there something in him that she found inadequate? He shook his head. No, Sinag-Tala had never found fault in him before. She had never found cause to think him unworthy – Talim had said so herself when he had approached her for advice.

And yet he remembered the glimmer in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, when she spoke to the strangers, and again, envy lanced through his soul, sharper and more painful than any wound he had ever gotten while hunting in the jungle or fishing in the sea.

"Hiraya?"

He jerked his head up then, and felt his cheeks flush in shame when he saw Sinag-Tala standing not that far away from him. He bowed to her in respect and greeting. "Babaylan Sinag-Tala."

She laughed, and approached him, grasping his shoulders with her hands. "Hiraya, please. There is no need to address me with such formality. It is just the two of us here. No one will hear or see." She smiled at him as he lifted his head up. "And you are my friend. You have no need to address me as priestess and leader."

He gazed down at her, her gray eyes shining in the growing light like the moonlight off the foam-capped waves. "If that is what you wish, Sinag."

She stepped away, looking at him for a while, before she bowed her head. "I am sorry for what happened a few nights ago. Your…offer caught me off-guard. I was not prepared to hear you ask for my hand in marriage."

His heart felt a little lighter. So there was hope for him yet! He gazed at her, more fully now. "Then does that mean you accept my proposal?"

"I am sorry, but I cannot accept it."

Hiraya's heart plummeted. Hinango had warned him of this, and yet he had been stubborn, he had been insistent on going through what was obviously a plan doomed to failure. He should have known better, should have known that she would never accept it. Had his fears, then, been true? Did she think him unworthy of her?

Her hand gently touched his arm, and he wanted to pull away from her, wanted to draw away from her touch. How could he ever feel her touch again, when he knew that she would never be his?

"Hiraya, look at me, listen to me," she said softly, almost pleadingly. When he looked at her again, she said: "There is a difference between 'cannot' and 'will not.' I have not refused your offer completely. It is simply that there is something else I must do first, and…and I must have some time to understand what I feel for you."

The ache in his heart was eased somewhat at her words. So he was not turning her away; she was merely asking for time. Hope was not completely out of his reach yet.

He grasped her hand gently in his, and nodded. "I will give you as much time as you will need, Sinag. I can wait."

She smiled, and it seemed as if she was almost as relieved as he was. "Whatever may come of this – of you and me – I would not want to lose the bond of friendship that we have, and so I ask you to wait." She squeezed his fingers momentarily, before she let go. She smiled up at him then. "Thank you."

He nodded, and smiled back at her. He would have embraced her, as he usually did during moments like these, but somehow that did not seem appropriate, given what they had just discussed. Instead, he squeezed her hand one last time, before letting go, and smiling as he tilted his head in a curious angle. "So, what is this 'something' that you must do, that causes you to delay accepting my offer?"

He had expected she would laugh, but her face remained serious. She frowned, and little lines formed on her brow when she did so. "I must leave Ma'yi for a time. I must go into the world beyond our borders and see how all things fare with our neighbors."

Hiraya's jaw dropped. She could not mean that – she did not mean that. "You will leave Ma'yi?"

She nodded grimly. "I must do this, Hiraya. The elders are right; the tensions between Khemet and Umbar will soon reach a breaking point, and once it does, not even our country will be safe."

"Half the elders want you out of Ma'yi," Hiraya muttered. "You know very well how much they disliked being placed under your grandfather's rule. The only reason they have not risen against you is that Apo Iligan, Apo Maya and Apo Tugon keep them in check."

He was very familiar with the situation amongst the council of elders: most of them were chiefs who, after the tribal wars had been quelled by Taer Manansala, Sinag-Tala's father, had gone into the service of Apo Lesaka, Sinag-Tala's grandfather. His father had been a warrior in the service of Apo Lesaka at that time, and was very familiar with the petty political maneuverings of the other chieftains. Many of them grumbled about being subjected to Lesaka's rule, but they dared not complain while Lesaka or Taer or even Dilag Dayanghirang, Lesaka's daughter, were around.

Hiraya was also told the story of how the other elders had prayed that Dilag would never bear a child after Lesaka died, so that there would be no heir left to rule once Taer and Dilag were gone. But their prayers were for naught, for a year after Lesaka's death, Dilag gave birth to a daughter who was named Sinag-Tala.

But now, Taer was dead, and so was Dilag. Sinag-Tala was the only one left. And with war just beyond the horizon, the elders had finally seen their chance to be rid of Sinag-Tala once and for all.

"I know," Sinag-Tala said softly, and Hiraya heard the pain n her voice, saw the flicker of old memories flash through her eyes. "But they are right. Even Apo Iligan supports them, and you know how much I respect his advice. I believe that he wishes no ill of me."

Hiraya relaxed slightly then. If Apo Iligan had supported the idea of Sinag-Tala leaving Ma'yi for a time, then it was indeed for the safety of their nation, and not simply to get rid of Sinag-Tala. "But you cannot leave Ma'yi leaderless. And I am sure you will not allow any of the elders to govern while you are gone."

Sinag-Tala smiled up at him then, and placed a hand on his arm trustingly. "That is I why I wish to appoint you, Hiraya. You and Talim will act as my regents while I am gone."

He stared at her, wide-eyed at the proposal. He and Talim, rule as regents in her place? "Sinag-"

"Do not argue with me, Hiraya," she said as she shook her head firmly, slowly putting on the attitude of the leader of her people. "You are the only two people I can trust here in Ma'yi to lead our people as I would. You both have the strength to stand against those among the elders, who would wish to see me gone, and the wisdom and temperance to rule properly. I would choose no others for this important task."

Hiraya stared at her for a long while, and at length, he sighed, and bowed his head in acceptance. "Let it be as you wish, Sinag."

This time she embraced him, and while he hesitated at first, he returned it, holding her in his arms, and realizing that he would be content to simply hold her like this, and let the whole world slip by them both.

After a pause that felt too short to him, she moved away, sliding out of his arms. He mentally sighed in disappointment as he let her go. "Where shall you go now?"

She nodded towards the house. "I must go and prepare for today. There is much to be done."

Hiraya nodded, his eyes fixing on the white ship that had been brought into the reef very late last night, when the tide was at its highest. "Yes, there is much to be done indeed."

Glorfindel had not slept much the previous night. He had spent most of it staring up at the dark hardwood beams that crisscrossed high above his head, trying to figure out the puzzle that was Sinag-Tala's heritage in his mind. Maedhros had voiced out his suspicions about Sinag-Tala's possible Elven heritage to them the night before, even though Sinag-Tala herself said that her father had come from Dol Amroth.

But how much does she really know about her father, Glorfindel wondered. He believed that it was not much. Taer Manansala, as he was called, was something of a mystery even to the other people of Ma'yi. Though he had been mentioned often in Pallando's journals, whatever had been said about him was vague and did nothing to point out who he really was. All that was known was that he had arrived, suddenly and mysteriously, from the North, and he had helped quell the tribal wars that had been going on when he arrived.

He knew why Maedhros had such high hopes concerning Sinag-Tala's heritage: he had hoped that Maglor had been the one who had fathered her, and in that case, she would be able to tell him where his brother was.

And this was where the puzzle came in. If indeed Maglor was Sinag-Tala's father, then he should have been in the Halls of Mandos already, since, according to Sinag-Tala, he had died when she was ten years old. Yet if her father was Maglor, then he was not yet dead, no matter what Sinag-Tala said about him drowning in a storm. Still, there was the ever-present possibility that Sinag-Tala's father was mortal, in which case he would not be in the Halls of Mandos at all.

Her father must have been mortal, Glorfindel thought as he tied his hair in his usual braids again. If her father were indeed from Dol Amroth, as Sinag-Tala had said, then it would explain why she had gray eyes. Most likely, he was a member of the nobility, since most of the gray-eyed folk in Dol Amroth were related to the Royal House of Gondor in one way or another.

And yet, while it was the most plausible explanation, it did not explain certain things about Sinag-Tala herself. It did not explain the keen brightness of her eyes, or the sound of her voice. Glorfindel had known Maglor, and the undercurrent that ran in his voice also ran in Sinag-Tala's.

It would explain, then, why Maedhros' hopes seemed to have risen when he met Sinag-Tala. Maedhros and Maglor had been the closest of all of Fëanor's sons to each other, so of all the people in Arda and in Aman, Maedhros was the best equipped to recognize his brother, even if he went disguised as a mortal. His hopes seemed to have dropped since Sinag-Tala's revelation the previous night, but it still flickered there. Maedhros would find his brother, no matter how far or how long it took to do so.

He had finished dressing himself for the day, so he stood up and headed for the outside of the house. When he got there, he noticed that a small group of elderly folk had gathered not that far away. Sinag-Tala was amongst them, and they seemed to be discussing things of great importance. Though Glorfindel could not understand a single word of the tongue that the Ma'yen used, he could tell that the topic of discussion was very important, due to the cadence and rapidity with which the words were spoken.

They must have been talking for quite some time before he arrived, because a few moments later, Sinag-Tala waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal, and the council dispersed. Sinag-Tala bowed her head wearily, before she looked up and gazed at the horizon of the sea.

Glorfindel smiled as he approached her. "You did not seem pleased with the way that meeting concluded."

The young woman sighed, and shook her head. "No, I was not pleased, but it was the best that I could do." She squinted her eyes at the horizon, as if she could see something there that he could not. "Change is in the air, and war comes on the wind and the waves. Even now the air is as tight as a drawn bowstring, waiting for the time when it will break and reverberate chaos and blood across the land. And when that bowstring breaks, it will be too late."

A dark foreboding settled on Glorfindel's heart when he heard Sinag-Tala speak in such a manner. He had not noticed it – rather, he had tried to ignore it – but now he could feel it: the tightness in the air, as if something large and dangerous was about to shatter.

Turgon had told him, long ago, that peace in Arda was a tenuous thing, a watchful quiet between storms. The histories always spoke of Gondolin as being a land of peace amidst the swirling chaos that were the wars of the First Age, but he knew, and Ecthelion knew, that the peace of Gondolin was a wary, mindful one. Gondolin would not have been as peaceful as it had been were it not for the constant vigilance of those who manned the walls and gate.

He shook his head. That was all in the past now. There was a new war here that he had to contend with, and he could only thank the Valar that it there was no Dark Lord controlling it from the shadows. It was merely due to the greed of mortals who did not know what they were getting themselves into.

Somehow, though, that idea did not sound as comforting as he would have liked to think.

"I hope I do not overstep my bounds by asking," Glorfindel began, "but what did you discuss with them? And who were they?"

Sinag-Tala's frown deepened slightly. "They are the council of elders, who often advise me and help me to in ruling my people. And we were discussing what course of action I should take to ensure that Ma'yi remains safe if and when a war does happen."

"And what course of action did they suggest?"

"They suggested that I leave Ma'yi for a time, and go on a journey outside of our borders. After all, they said, I had traveled beyond the bounds of Ma'yi before, and that I had friends in Khemet and Rûmenyen who would help me find out what was happening – and quite possibly secure an alliance for Ma'yi should the war indeed come to our shores."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "And are these things true?"

Sinag-Tala shrugged. "They are, but it has been so long since I last traveled beyond these borders. The last time I did so was eleven years ago, and many things have surely changed since then. I no longer know where I might find certain people, or," her voice softened here, "if they are even alive." She shook her head, as if dismissing that unpleasant thought from her mind. "But they are right. I must go out into the world, and see what knowledge I can find, and hopefully, come back here and use it for the safety of my people."

But Glorfindel was certain that there was something else that was troubling her. He wanted to ask about it, but he thought that it would not be wise to do so right now. So instead, he latched on the current topic of discussion. "Who will accompany you on your journey?"

She looked up at him, and offered a small smile. "I was considering that I would accompany you and your friends. Your ship will not be ready for quite some time, and I do not think you wish to remain idle here in Ma'yi. I could guide you to where you wish to go, and make sure that you find someone who will help you before I go my own way."

Glorfindel gazed at her, considering the offer. It was a very tempting one, and very convenient for him and his friends. They would need someone who could help them get to Yaminah, and it seemed that Sinag-Tala could help them get there. He smiled. "Perhaps it would be wise if we discussed this with my companions."

She nodded in agreement. "I was thinking of that. Do you suppose they would be willing to talk of it now?"

"There is only one way to know, and that is to ask," Glorfindel said, and he led her towards where Ecthelion, Ereinion, Maedhros and Telpeär were watching the Ma'yen shipwrights checking the damages of their ship.

"My friends," he called as he and Sinag-Tala approached. "Sinag-Tala has offered to be our guide on our journey."

The young woman lowered her head slightly in a bow. "If you will let me."