Chapter 34

Khätif

March, 3020

Éomer's heart clenched as Lothíriel turned away from him as if he were nothing more than a stranger. He began to step forward, but before he could move a muscle, Glorfindel put a hand on his arm. A flash of rage lit Éomer, but it went out as soon as he saw the elf's face. There was hurt in his own eyes, though he kept it hidden under thick layers of calm.

"This is not the time.". His voice, even in a whisper, was hard. "She does not recognize us and it does not seem as if she is in trouble. If we try to take her back before knowing everything about her captors, we will surely be outnumbered and unprepared." Glorfindel looked around the crowd. "We don't have many of your Rohirrim and none of the Swan Knights are here."

Éomer sighed, though he kept taking hidden glances at Lothíriel. "What do you suggest?" His anger had turned to frustration. He had seen her twice in as many days and yet this would be the second time he would do nothing!

"I think we should follow them and find out where she is staying. Then we can learn everything about her situation and about the people around her." Glorfindel glanced at Lothíriel and her party. Éomer followed his line of sight and saw each of them was packing up their belongings while the fire was left to burn itself out. Lothíriel stood in between two other dark skinned women and he could just barely make out their words as they spoke to each other.

"Are we really sure that it will work?" Lothíriel asked. "I only sang one song, and the crowd wasn't even that big."

"Don't worry," one of the women spoke up, "There are not many Mheydar here. After seeing one who sang among our people, surely news will spread."

"And with that new.s, we will need to be more careful about our trips into the city. You can't wander off like you did yesterday. If Na'man were to find you alone, you wouldn't stand a chance of resisting him with Yusraa there," the other chimed in.

"You're right," Lothíriel nodded. "I don't know why I was so drawn to the docks yesterday. But I promise, I won't leave on my own again."

"You should be glad we didn't tell Kokkefar or Zwendi Chinnekom," the first said. The group had finished packing and was moving away with Lothíriel and her two friends following behind. Glorfindel touched Éomer's shoulder for a moment.

"Go and find Erchirion and come back here. I will follow them," he looked towards the group with Lothíriel, "and find where they make camp."

"I should come with you." Éomer stood firmly. Glorfindel shook his head slowly.

"No, I need you to find her brother. If we had someone to send, I would say yes, but we are separated from your Rohirrim." Glorfindel turned back, scanning the streets until he saw them again.

"Then you find her brother." Éomer crossed his arms over his chest. "I will follow and meet you back here."

Again Glorfindel shook his head. "You cannot. I can keep a further distance because my eyes can see better than yours and my ears can hear better. You will be too close and will be noticed." Éomer sighed as he realized that Glorfindel's words were true. He did stick out here like a sore thumb, and Glorfindel, while also being different and drawing attention to himself because of it would be able to follow much more discreetly.

"Alright, we'll meet you back here." Glorfindel nodded as Éomer spoke before turning and heading off. They moved off in nearly opposite directions. Éomer hoped he would find Erchirion before too long.


"What do you mean you let her leave again?" Erchirion threw his hands towards the sky as if it would bring understanding. "I thought you were here to find my sister and bring her back to Gondor, but it seems I was mistaken. You're just here to look at her as she walks away!" He began muttering and pacing.

"It was Glorfindel's idea, not mine." Éomer watched Erchirion pause for a moment before he paced some more. It had taken a long time to find Erchirion and the sun had grown much closer to the horizon, pulling long shadows to mark evening. Finally Erchirion stopped pacing and nodded.

"I suppose if Glorfindel insisted. He is an elf and is wiser than both of us. In fact, I'd go so far as to say he's older than everyone we know combined." Erchirion chuckled. "Let us return to this square and hope that Glorfindel has been successful in his pursuit."

The journey back to the square was much shorter than Éomer would have expected, given that it had taken nearly the whole afternoon to find Erchirion, but still, they didn't arrive until after the sun was touching the horizon and the warm hues of sunset was beginning to color the sky.

When they arrived, Éomer noticed that the fire was still burning, though it was now nearing its end. He wondered why the fire had not been put out, especially in such a warm climate. He didn't reflect on this for very long, however. Glorfindel was leaning against a building, watching Éomer and Erchirion approaching.

"Were you successful in following Lothíriel?" Erchirion rushed forward.

"I was," Glorfindel straightened, a slight frown curving the corners of his mouth. "She is among a tribe on the outskirts of town, close to the river." He turned his gaze to Éomer, "It is a very large tribe." Éomer knew what he meant. With anything more than thirty men, the Rohirrim and Swan Knights would be outnumbered, making their chances for success less.

"What do you recommend?" Éomer looked around to make sure that no one was listening in to the conversation.

"We may be able to sneak into the camp after dark and free Lothíriel. " Glorfindel said quietly, "but we would need to be able to leave right away."

"Then we can't do it tonight." Erchirion sighed. Éomer turned to him, shock painted on his face.

"You said I wasn't here to rescue Lothíriel, and now you're saying we should wait to do just that?" Éomer's shocked look turned to a glower. Erchirion crossed his arms and looked steadily up at Éomer, meeting the glower with cool eyes.

"The ship needs at least a day to be ready to leave." Erchirion explained. "Not only does the crew need to be informed, but we have to make sure we have plenty of water and food for the journey. These things just can't happen at a moment's notice."

"What if the tribe leaves? Lothíriel will go with them and we'll have no idea where they went." Éomer ran his fingers through his hair.

"There is a place that can hide no more than two people. They can watch the tribe without being seen. If they leave, our sentries will send word." Glorfindel spoke up, pulling the attention of both Éomer and Erchirion to him. Éomer wanted very badly to act, but he had to admit that there was wisdom in Erchirion's plan to wait. And with their men watching to make sure the tribe never left – or if they did, they would know where – Éomer could afford to wait another day, even if he hated it.

"We will wait, but before that, I would like to see the camp for myself." Glorfindel nodded as he heard Éomer's request.

"Come, follow closely and quietly." Glorfindel turned and strode purposefully towards the river.


The river's current pulled at Lothíriel's feet, giving her the feeling of drifting even when she never moved at all. The sky was darkening and behind her, all of the fires in the camp made the area seem to glow as if the sun had not left that specific spot for the night. The quiet hum of multiple people talking around those fires pulled at her attention. She remained for a few more moments before stepping back onto dry land.

"You really like this river, don't you?" Hind's voice was quiet. Lothíriel jumped a little in surprise before turning round to see her friend.

"I don't know why, but the water gives me a faint sensation of home." Lothíriel sat on a rock and used the edges of her dress to dry her feet before putting them in the simple linen slippers.

"Well that's one of the first things that's actually reminded you of home since you remembered your name." Hind smiled as she put a hand on Lothíriel's shoulder. "And it's a good place to start. Maybe you lived near a river or the ocean."

"What's the point?" Lothíriel sighed, letting her chin fall onto her open palm. "How many towns and cities are on the coasts or beside rivers? And who's to say that I don't just remember visiting a river or ocean?"

"Do not forget that you are not going alone. After Zwendi has taken care of Na'man, he has given his word that he will help you find your home, and even if they no longer help us, I will always remain with you. You gave me my freedom." Hind opened her mouth and was about to continue speaking when a sharp snap caught her attention. Both Hind and Lothíriel whipped their head around and searched in the direction it had come from.

"We're too far from the camp." Lothíriel stood, pulling on Hind's hand. "Let's go back."


Éomer was just peaking around the corner of a building when he spotted Lothíriel and one of her female companions passing two dark skinned men. He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths as he watched her walking away from him for the third time. His knuckles turned white as his hand clenched around the pommel of his sword, the horse motif digging into the fleshy part of his palm.

The men were mostly naked except for for a loin cloth with the head of a coyote covering the front, but that is not what brought his attention away from Lothíriel. These men had painted over their faces with white paint to mimic skulls. In their hands were long spears with white tipped heads while attached to their hips were curved swords and two knives were strapped to their ankles. Another short sword was strapped to their backs by leather thongs. As he studied the camp, he saw that there were more than just the two of them. There were at least ten that he could see circling the side of the camp they were on, spaced out at a good distance, but not to far that help would take long to arrive if there was trouble.

"I've read about these men," Erchirion whispered as he stared in a surprised delight. "Though I must admit I never thought I would see them. Most tribes no longer follow the old ways."

"Well don't keep us in suspense!" Éomer harsh whisper seemed to jolt Erchirion out of his daydreams and back to the reality that Lothíriel was past those fearsome men.

"I'm sorry," Erchirion licked his lips. "Those men are called Zesor, or in the common tongue: Dead Man." His voice went even lower as he continued to explain. "When boys begin to enter their maturity, the tribe holds a series of tests. A test to challenge their instinct, their strength of both will and body, their intelligence, and finally, their sense of self. The three champions of these tests are given rigorous training for a year and then subjected to three new tests which define how they would react in certain situations. One where their families are in danger, another where they themselves are in danger, and finally where their tribe is in danger. Depending on how they react, they are divided into two groups. The two who were champions in the initial tests are made into high class soldiers who then go on to learn how to command teams of lesser soldiers as well as occasionally advise their chief.

"The best of the three," he continued, "is declared a man and there is a great celebration for eight days and seven nights. Each of these nights, this 'man' is able to choose any woman within the camp who is apart of their tribe and spend the night with her. This is in the hopes that one of the women will bear his son. After these celebrations are concluded, the man is taken to a carving block where he must castrate himself." Éomer winced somewhat at the mental image. "After which, it is burned in front of him and the chief holds a funeral for the man. Just as the funeral finishes, the chief takes the ash and adds it to a white paint and draws the skull on the man's face, declaring that he is a Zesor."

"And what do these Zesor do?" Éomer asked.

"Because they are the best fighters in their entire tribe, they are given the job of protecting the tribe. They will never leave their posts to pursue an enemy – that is the job of the soldiers – but if they are attacked, they will fight without fear. To their tribe, they are already dead. They no longer have families or lives beyond their duty." Erchirion looked back down at the Zesor.

"So they give up their manhood to become glorified sentries?" Éomer could hardly believe how barbaric it all sounded. "And Lothíriel is among people who would do that to their own sons?" It took all his strength of will not to jump up and run towards them, hoping to find Lothíriel and take her away that moment.

"It is a great honor to them. They believe that when they truly die, they will be treated as heroes in the afterlife and live with their names recorded for all great warriors and heroes from every corner of the world. They will be eternal and live with everything they ever wanted."

Éomer sighed and shook his head slightly. "I just hope we're able to get to Lothíriel quickly and get out of that camp just as quickly. "Here's what I think we should do tomorrow."


Béma must have smiled down on their plan because the next night was so heavily overcast that the moon was impossible to see, making the night that much darker. The only man who had joined Éomer was Éothain, while Glorfindel and Erchirion, along with the other men all waited farther up the river with the ship. Erchirion had protested heavily, but after Éomer had explained that if they were to be successful, they would have to be in and out without being noticed. The only reason that he had allowed Éothain to come along was because not only did he give Éomer no choice, but he also knew his commander and King well enough to silently follow his orders.

After getting past the Zesor – though Éomer wondered how they had managed it – they snuck through the camp as silently as cats stalking a mouse. Making sure to stay out of any firelight, they peaked into tent after tent until finally he spotted her.

Lothíriel was not in the tent alone, though she was the only one awake. Around her were the sleeping bodies of three women. The first two he had seen her speaking to the day before, while the third was elderly. Lothíriel was combing her hair through her fingers and staring into nothingness. Both Éomer and Éothain entered the tent and though they were being silent by Éomer's reckoning, Lothíriel turned to face them. Her eyes widened and she stood.

"Who are you and what do you think you're –" Her voice was loud and both men rushed forwards. Her words became muffled against Éomer's palm. The women began to stir in the from their sleep. She struggled against Éomer's firm grasp.

"Please, Lothíriel," he whispered in her ear, "I promise everything will be alright." She stopped fighting him as soon as he spoke her name and he began to drag her out of the tent. They were almost out when one of the women did awaken. Before anyone could do anything, she let out a shriek.

"Siat! " Her shrill voice seemed even louder in the quiet of the night.

Translations:

Siat - Help