CHAPTER XI: Of the Founding of Marannan-astair
The master nodded and grunted with a pronounced "Harrumph!" as his apprentice finished reading the chapter. "That will do, Tatya," Greagoir said, stroking the beard on his chin. "Much have we written regarding the Dark Elves, but I believe it is time we concentrated on the history of Men for a bit. The ways and means of finding such Mannish lore was perhaps less dangerous than the paths I tread to gather the tales of the Sidhe, but only by degree, and the process was much more laborious. There is now not one credible instance of historical fact arising from the First Age of Eastern Middle-earth -- let alone chronicles, whether bardic or scribal -- unless it came directly from the Dark Elves; but they have little interest in the lives of we mortals, nor the histories of our brief empires."
The blind scribe leaned forward towards where his apprentice sat, and remarked (with a good deal of sarcasm), "What we are left with, my good apprentice, is a hodgepodge of mangled myths and fallacious fables handed down from generation to generation, passed through filters of sentiment and ancestral pride, hallowed with time, and tainted with the attitudes and morals of each succeeding age, until we have naught but great piles of shite to sift through." Greagoir laughed loudly and exclaimed, "To find the history of Men, Tatya, you must get your hands dirty! Wave off the flies and dig through the manure and maggots, and perhaps you will find an undigested kernel of truth regarding Mankind's past!"
"Umm…where then shall we start, master?" Tatya asked, trying his best to sound intrigued (but was more so nauseated at the thought of having to dig through dung).
Without missing a beat, Greagoir triumphantly replied, "Why, The Second Age of Middle-earth, of course; for precious little can be found before the fall of Morgoth. We shall first look towards our own island realm, Marannan-astair, the land of accountants, bookkeepers and lawyers. Marannan-astair was built on seafaring commerce, and bureaucracy is bred in our bones. It is an irony of avarice that where flourishes trade and the counting of coin, there lies also written history. We shall also delve into the bloody triumphs and tragic fall of the Khanate of Five Kingdoms, which was of old called Tsin-Quinqan, once the greatest empire along the Eastern Ocean. Then, perhaps, before we run too far a field, we shall discuss the founding of Bajazet, its rapid rise after the destruction of the Balchoth horde in the east, and the long line of Hierophants who have built an empire out of desert sand, and in the process have managed to outwit both Sauron and Urzahil."
Tatya bit his lip and thought for a moment. "But certainly Marannan-astair is not that ancient," the apprentice said incredulously, his head spinning at the idea, "that would mean...our island is several thousand years old!"
Greagoir nodded with a satisfied smirk. "Yes, my dear apprentice, Marannan-astair has been continuously occupied since early in the Second Age or perhaps even further back in time. Its prime location in the straits of Enegaer has given it a strategic importance, both militarily and in trade, for countless centuries. I assume it was originally discovered in the shadowy past during one of the great migrations of Men in the First Age, and most likely by tribes heading north from the continent of Mu. It is all a matter of conjecture, really, but taking into account tidal currents and the primitive watercraft of those most ancient of times, I would say the first Men floated or rowed across to the island on rafts or in canoes. The channel waters between the island and Mu are much calmer and are sailable for a greater season than the stormy strait that lies between Marannan-astair and the southern shores of Hildorien. Nevertheless, those first journeys were dangerous, for it would be no mean feat to make the passage from Mu to Marannan without sails or a seaworthy vessel.
"Fisher-folk these first inhabitants were, most likely spending the summer months on the island away from the sweltering heat of Mu. Eventually, tribes settled permanently on our temperate shores, shifting their livelihoods from hunting and fishing to farming the rich soil. But aside from speculation, the first real hint of significant history lies in the Second Age, for it is a long-held tradition that the foundations of Marannan-astair were laid by great mariners from a far-distant shore who once came among the awe-struck and primitive fisher-folk and farmers of the island. The lore holds that these ancient mariners were near god-like in their aura, sailing in white ships that glided effortlessly across the sea without the use of oars or seemingly any other means of propulsion. Yet these tall men in their tall ships came not to conquer, for they were kindly and wise, exploring the world for the sake of bold adventure only.
"Across the Shadowy Seas they had come, and navigated the turbulent waters around the Cape of Mu, a savage crossing even the most adventurous sea-captains of modern times dare not sail. Having traversed north along the entire coast of Mu, they found at last what they sought: the straits by which they could find passage through to the inner seas of the world; and though they made no permanent habitation on the island, these noble ship-lords used our shores as a base from which to explore the seas to the east and to the north. Many times over the years they returned to the island, sharing their knowledge of ships and sailing, and of medicine, language and building, so that the ignorant folk of Marannan-astair grew in knowledge and skilled of craft. Yet there came a time when the ship-lords bade farewell and ventured homeward, promising another expedition within two year's time, and the grateful people of the island waited anxiously for the mariners' return voyage.
"The two years came and went, and the years after, but the ship-lords never returned; yet still the island-folk revered their memory, erecting two great statues at the foot of the harbor of what eventually became our city of Caladh. But the harbor has long since been dredged and enlarged, and the remnants of those granite giants, now weathered, old stone pillars, can still be seen far from shore -- lonely sentinels ever waiting the return of the white ships with golden sails to pass majestically up the strait towards the island."
"Carnan Neamhaniar!" Tatya cried with excitement. "So that's how those pillars came to be placed in the bay! I thought the cairns were merely raised by the harbor master so that beacon fires could be placed upon them."
"Well, no. No, not at all," Greagoir grumbled in exasperation, the interruption jarring him from his narrative, "but I suppose it is appropriate, in a poetic sense, that they are now used as beacons to guide ships into port. Towering they were in days of old, with high crowned helms upon their noble heads, but earthquakes and violent storms have long since toppled them. Now only the massive legs of the statues are all that remain..."
"Wait!" Tatya exclaimed and jumped to his feet. Neamhaniar means 'Holy Men from the West'! Do you suppose that means..."
The master raised his hand, and the chagrined apprentice immediately fell silent. Greagoir glared with his blind eyes smoldering and growled, "My dear scribeling, while I appreciate your enthusiasm, might I ask that you attempt to control your outbursts of youthful ardor, before I, too, topple over from old age?"
Tatya obediently returned to his seat and glumly picked up his pen, while Greagoir rolled his eyes and sniffed impatiently. Having mended the frayed edges of his thought, the master continued, "Yes, Tatya, Neamhaniar does indeed mean 'Holy Men from the West', thank you for pointing that out so effusively; but I am far more interested in the similarities between the words 'Neamhaniar' and 'Numenor'. In Elvish Numenor means literally 'Westlands', which begs the question, were these 'Holy Men from the West' indeed Numenoreans?
I personally believe that is the case, primarily due to information garnered from my brief perusal of the Book of Akallabeth, or 'The Downfall of Numenor', so long ago in Minas Tirith. My recollection is a bit hazy, but I do remember clearly that the early Numenoreans were the greatest adventurers of the Second Age, and had navigated far beyond the stretches of Gondor and Harad that eventually became part of their empire. I am certain there was a chapter that dealt specifically with Numenoreans finding a passage to the Inner Sea. If that is the case, then Neamhaniar is merely a bastardization of Numenor, and Marannan-astair was indeed once visited by the High Men of the West.
"This might explain Marannan-astair's early and continued dominance in naval power throughout the centuries. Our ancestors were taught well by the Numenoreans, and they took full advantage of the lessons learned. Hence, we have had no rivals on the high seas, save perhaps for the Corsairs, for time out of mind, and it is why there has never been a successful invasion of the island. But truthfully, Marannan-astair has flourished for so long because we learned far back in our history not to seek to conquer the ever-feuding realms on the mainland. Ours is an invisible empire, Tatya, not some warring monolith with vast tracts of land that are hard to manage and eventually prove indefensible; but of a great shadowy web of commerce that none of our trading partners want to cut ties with because so many of them have learned that profit without war is better than greed with war. We have made ourselves so indispensable, in fact, that greater kingdoms have risen to our defense during times of conflict merely to insure their own interests, which, by the way, are also our interests. The irony is delicious!
"Whereas great realms in the West -- Gondor or Rochand for instance -- rely on the intricate interplay of honor and chivalry and fealty to maintain their power and prestige, Marannan-astair deals in cold currency and in all sorts of trade: importing, exporting, buying, selling -- if a price can be affixed to it, our island will ship it, trade it or hoard it. The defining difference between the Elvish-influenced kingdoms of the West, and the Mannish countries of the East, like Marannan-astair or Bajazet, is that we Easterners are more commerce-centered; while to a great western realm, like Gondor, commerce is a mere afterthought of empire and not the driving force that impels its existence.
"The further west one travels, the less emphasis is put on expanding trade. Dorwinion, a Mannish settlement on the southwestern slopes of the Orocarnis, adjacent to Rhun, is a great exporter of goods, particularly their fine vintages of wine, and their products can be found on both coasts of Middle-earth; further west, the kingdom of Dale thrives on commerce, but the bulk of its trade is with their nearest neighbors, the Dwarves of Erebor and the Elves of Eryn Lasgalen; in the furthest west, trade is so localized that products rarely leaves the country of origin, unless of course one considers the Dwarves, who have always been an industrious and mercantile race wherever they make their homes. But the other kingdoms of the West share somewhat in the elvish attitude of noble isolation, preferring to maintain their long-held customs and a hallowed belief in their own esteem; therefore, the lands outside of their spheres of influence are, to them, hardly worth dealing with."
Greagoir swatted a fly off his cheek, then stretched and yawned. Dabbing the sweat on his forehead with a fold of his robe, he remarked drowsily, "The late afternoon sun always beats the hardest on this side of the cottage." Reaching for his great, black staff he added, "Tatya, help me in and prepare supper, please. I wish to take a nap. This evening I think we shall go for a bit of a walk down by the pond where it will be cooler. There we shall discuss Tsin-Quinqan, the Khanate of Five Kingdoms. There is an interesting tale behind how I procured that history."