Land of the King

Chapter 26: Southwards

Fifty years. Fifty years since he had become king, and finally he would begin the conquest he had dreamed of for so long.

In all honesty, Celepharn was surprised that he had waited so long, but he had heeded his son Celebrindor's counsel.

Arnor had not prospered by being hasty, and it was no insignificant foe that stood against them.

Very cunningly, the old kings of the Arbor and Oldtown had arranged for the union of their kingdoms and houses and now their grandson was the king of both realms.

Any other would be conqueror would balk at the thought of taking on the combined navy and army of both Redwyne and Hightower. Celepharn was not one of them.

Perhaps it would have been better to strike earlier, before the two kingdoms had been so closely linked. Yet perhaps not, war was expensive, and the wars of his grandfather Beleg had depleted the treasury. Time had allowed Celepharn to build a force that his enemy could not hope to stand against, and the prize would be only sweeter when he took both kingdoms at the same time. Two new jewels for his empire.

Celepharn looked out across the wide fields straddling the banks of the Mander. The sunlight reflected off the water of the river, creating a wondrous illumination right next to the lush and green grasses. Calenardhon was a truly beautiful land. He had chosen well when he had made the former seat of the Gardeners his summer palace.

Arcalen had been his first conquest, taken only a few years after his ascension. Celepharn had completed his grandfather's work and had ended the line of Gardener and the Kingdom of the Reach in a single decisive strike.

Now decades later, Celepharn was finished completing his grandfather's legacy and ready to begin his own.

His son Celebrindor had already set off from Mandalondë with the fleet. Celepharn had not a doubt in his son's capability to command, and he had skilled and competent admirals beside him.

He trusted that his son would secure the Arbor for the glory of Arnor but for Celepharn himself, a far greater prize was waiting.

Celepharn held in a smile as he saw the barge carrying his father and mother on the Mander. The two of them had fallen in love with the beauty of Arcalen and the surrounding lands. They were happy here, and Celepharn was loath to disturb them. Abdicating had been perhaps his father's wisest decision, the burden of expectation and responsibility had been lifted from his shoulders and he was free to enjoy life to the fullest.

Sadly, he would soon have to depart from the wondrous peace and beauty of Arcalen. His army awaited him at the border a few days further south, waiting for him to lead them to war and glory.

He took one last glimpse at his parents, before turning to leave. It was time to go.


It was almost sunset when Celepharn and his guard arrived at the army camp.

Lord Ramir Reyne, one of Celepharn's principal commanders had greeted him.

"Hail Your Majesty, the commanders await your presence at the war meeting."

"It can wait Lord Ramir. I am sure that the good generals would like dinner before we convene."

"As you command, sire."

Befitting a king, Celepharn's tent was more akin to a luxurious house than one of the tents a common soldier would use.

Dedicated as he was, Celepharn would not break from matters of state even during his meal, and had invited Lord Ramir to sup with him.

"What do you think on the situation in the Redwyne Straits my lord?"

"I believe that Your Majesty chose well to send Admiral Turin with Prince Celebrindor."

"Oh? Do elaborate? I do hope that you are not calling the ability of the future king into question."

Quickly dismissing any such notions, Lord Reyne replied swiftly.

"Of course not sire, merely an honest observation. His Highness is far better suited to command on land than at sea. Admiral Turin can supplement his lack of experience at sea."

"Yet many of my lords and advisors have called into question the wisdom of giving my son a command at sea, do you not wonder why I did not simply choose to give Admiral Turin command?"

Lord Ramir chose his next words carefully, "If I may, Your Majesty, I believe that it was a test. Not only of the Prince's ability but also his will to see through the ambitions of our kingdom. His Highness' opposition to Arnor pursuing further wars of conquest is well known."

"My eldest is far too idealistic, that is very true. Yet at the same time he has proven to me his commitment to his duties."

"And of your second son, sire?"

Celepharn smirked, "Celeborn is far too much like me. He reminds me of myself when I was much younger. Too brash, too reckless. It was probably for the better that he was left behind in the capital. It might make him more even-headed."

The laws of Arnor demanded that an uncontested heir to the throne remain in the capital whenever the King went to war. As the sons of the reigning king, the choice had been between Celebrindor and Celeborn to remain behind.

To the surprise of many, including the sons in question, Celepharn had chosen to order his eldest to war and leave his far more like-minded second son in the city.

Many had wondered at the king's agenda, yet Celepharn had greater things in mind for his second son. Plans that required he learn some modicum of statesmanship.

After their dinner, Celepharn and Lord Ramir made their way to the war council where the upper echelons of command in the Arnorian Royal Army had gathered.

"At ease my lords and generals, take your seats," Celepharn ordered to the kneeling commanders as he entered the tent.

"Lord Reyne will begin the briefing for the army's strategy," Celepharn ordered.

He had to hold in a sigh when he saw signs of grumbling amongst many commanders.

The House of Reyne were descendants of the Casterrim, yet they had intermarried with the Dúnedain so very many times, they were just as much descendants of Númenor as any of these 'pure' lords.

He had to respect them for keeping their original house name. Few Casterrim Houses in Arnor had done so, having changed their names out of a vain attempt to accrue greater recognition from the Purists. The Reynes still had pride in their non-Númenórean ancestors.

Celepharn himself cared little for the purity of one's blood and cared more for the skill of the man in question.

Yet many of his lords and his own family members took it all too seriously. Celepharn knew all too well that his parents and sons both espoused purist views to a certain extent.

It was not a blatant discrimination like many of the more extreme purists, but rather a belief that the blood of Númenor was simply superior and that those with purer blood were more suited for certain roles.

It was arguably true as well, for Númenóreans were undoubtedly superior to lesser men. Yet after generations of intermarriage and interbreeding, which had not wholly stopped despite the laws of the Purists, the average Arnorian citizen was often indistinguishable from a pureblooded noble or at the very least the difference was far too small to matter much.

Yet what the more extreme Purists failed to recognize was that in such circumstances, purity of blood mattered far less than skill.

If he could, Celepharn would abolish the Purist Faction entirely and discard all of their nonsensical laws. Yet he could not, just as his late grandfather could not.

The Purists had grown far too powerful to anger so blatantly and Celepharn needed their support for his wars.

So he had showed his disapproval in other subtle ways. Such as appointing the Tergil Lord Ramir Reyne to one of the highest positions of command in his army. Though he was of mixed blood, Lord Reyne was one of the finest commanders Celepharn had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

"The army will proceed south along the Honeywine, sweeping across the castles and strongholds on the way to the city. At Honeyholt, two detachments will split off under the command of…."

At the very least, Celepharn noticed, despite their dislike of his impure heritage, the purists accepted Lord Reyne's position due to his competence.

That was all Celepharn needed. Skilled commanders were a necessity for waging war after all.


The Redwyne Straits rarely had storms. The Arbor sheltered the straits from most storms that blew in from the outer sea.

They were peaceful, tranquil and beautiful. Yet Celebrindor would soon mar that beauty with war.

His father had commanded he take the Arbor, and so he would, for the glory of Arnor. Though in truth he disliked it.

He had counselled restraint for very many years, saying that Arnor needed more time to prepare for war. Yet Celebrindor had known Arnor could have won this war decades ago. He had simply been stalling.

War was brutal and savage, it tested the virtue of all good men. He had long been reluctant to pursue wars of conquest against their neighbours, believing it to be unnecessary and wasteful.

Yet his own father and brother aspired for such dreams. It was the duty of a chivalric knight to obey and so he had obeyed his father's command to take the Arbor.

At the very least if their people would conquer other lands, Celebrindor could act to ensure their soldiers acted with honour and virtue in their fight.

The Chivalrous his people called him. He had written a thesis in his youth on what he had called the code of chivalry, a code of honour and virtue all Arnorian knights and soldiers should aspire towards.

He had been inspired by years spent training with and admiring the Swan Knights of Dol Amroth, seeing them as the example for the knights he wished to train and raise for all of Arnor.

Reluctant though he was to pursue wars of conquest, Celebrindor did truly believe that Arnor's rule would be beneficial to those they conquered. He simply feared that the people of Arnor would lose their moral virtues and values in the pursuit of glory and riches, like their ancestors before them.

"My prince, the enemy fleet has been spotted by our scouts. Your orders?" the admiral asked.

Yet at present, he had no time to ponder the morality of their conquests.

"Pursue and engage."

He had a duty to fulfil, and all knights must fulfil their duty.

It was half past noon when his fleet had engaged the enemy's. Celebrindor despised wildfire and so had refused to equip any ship in his fleet with the substance. They would do this the proper way.

"Engage and board the enemy," he commanded after hours of encircling the enemy fleet.

Battles at sea were a tedious mixture of positioning, ramming, boarding, and circling, all the while both sides fired arrows, scorpions and spitfires at each other.

With a classic crescent moon formation, Celebrindor's fleet enveloped the enemy fleet. The real battle would begin now.

With a large crash, the carracks of Arnor rammed straight into the quinqueremes of the Redwynes.

Arnorian archers loosed volley after volley upon the sailors of the Arbor, cutting them down as easily as target practice.

Celebrindor's soldiers boarded the enemy ships and after hours of hard fighting, captured or sunk all who had failed to escape his encirclement.

"Shall we pursue the survivors, my prince?" the admiral queried.

"No. We will catch up to them regardless when the Arbor falls. Send a detachment north into the Whispering Sound to blockade Oldtown for the King's army. The rest of us will continue onwards to the Arbor," Celebrindor ordered.

It was time to finish this war.