Chapter 4
The Great Lands
Umbar. The principal colonial settlement of Numenor. The Numenorian didn't know much about this city and therefore, he was looking about with interest, observing differences between Armenelos, and all provinces of Elenna he had ever visited in the Land of Star, and this seaport. There were many differences: narrow dirty streets, where everybody could be crushed by a bolting horse, for there was no space to dodge. Rude, noisy Umbarians, the unbearable smell of rotten fish discharged too late from the vessels tied up on moorings, the merciless heat and no refuge to hide…
He stayed at the house of his friend of youth, who left Numenor long ago and purchased a plot of land here. Not poor in means, he possessed a rich mansion, a rich one, yes, but of poor taste, as everything else in the city. At first, the Numenorean wanted to linger in Umbar for a while, and to make himself familiar with the customs of the Great Lands, but he found the city was not conducive to this.
So he decided to leave as soon as possible.
In the evening, having supper, that was certainly not managed without fish, he was talking with the Umbarian lord. No, as every Numenorian did, he loved fish and seafood, but he doubted that something like this would be taken to be edible on the island.
How many days did this fish spent in a hold before being served on the table
He was not sure that he wanted to know the answer.
"Why did you decide to visit us? As I know this is the first time you have left Elenna."
For a while, the Numenorean kept silence.
"I'm going to move into the Great Lands. People leave Numenore and settle here, or in Pelargir, or somewhere else. You know it yourself."
"And what about you?" the Umbarian wondered.
The guest endeavored not to twist his face, masticating his fish.
"What can you say about the East?" He asked by chance.
The Umbarian lord frowned. "There are no Numenorean settlements eastern than Pelargir. Even Umbar lies too near to Mordor."
The guest smiled slightly. "Don't you know the Lord of Mordor is a captive in Numenore?" He closed his eyes, recalling in his memory the events of that very day which led him here.
"It doesn't matter. He has many minions, among the Numenoreans as well. Certainly you heard about them. The Black Numenoreans. They used to live here in Umbar but left it and moved southwards. Do you still remember Herumor? He used the black magic," The Umbarian whispered very quietly.
"Yes I remember lord Herumor, " the guest answered not a bit embarrassed.
"And they say there is a nazgul there…" the host continued.
"A nazgul?" These tidings were no surprising for the Numenorean, but he pretended to know nothing.
The Umbarian sighed. Pushing away his plate, the Numenorean stood up.
"Tomorrow I would like to go to Pelargir," He said at length.
"I shall prepare a horse," his host nodded.
…The night seemed to be eternal…
Next day he bid farewell to the Umbarian lord, and left the city, riding westwards. Soon he found what he was searching for- a road leading to Mordor…