Recommended listening: Respighi — Belkis, Regina di Saba

CHAPTER XXIII: THE SOUTHERN DEBATE

Though Undómírë's inquiries had taken an unexpected tack when she and Aragorn stood high upon the guard tower, there were others amongst the company in Herumoros less inclined to deviate from their single-minded purpose. Having been so thoroughly rebuffed by Ephor Herufoth during their initial encounter – and several times since – Castamir's patience swiftly grew short.

Three days following the feast at Luxumarto (when even the most indulgent advisor's head had recovered), the leaders lounged about the low tables of the sitting room, enjoying a leisurely post-breakfast tea. Aragorn and Éomer were the lone representatives of the north, as Maeron and the other Gondorian guards had established a certain understanding amongst their Haradrim counterparts, and stationed themselves as a sort of coalition just outside. Undómírë and Indil were likewise absent, having preferred to take a stroll in the garden, and so it was without their mitigating cheer that their fathers and various advisors sat across from their northern guests.

The mood within the sitting-room was collected, if not pleasant, as they sampled dates and other sweets.

'Still,' Éomer was saying to the Yüzbashı, 'it is quite astounding, the breadth of tongues you command. I had believed the Southrons to speak no other language save that of the harsh commands we heard upon the Pelennor Fields, or before the Black Gates.'

'Have not the horse-lords their own grating language?' Nubol replied, an amused smile upon his lips. 'And so it is with Harad. Though there are certain benefits to speaking a tongue unknown to your enemies in battle, when sitting about the peace table, accurate communication must prevail. We are isolated from the north, yet we are by no means an unlearned land.'

'Our tribes – each with their own dialect – are many, and they have long been splintered,' Herufoth deigned to add. 'It is an Ephor's duty to speak to his people with his own words, not that of another mouth.'

'Indeed, an Ephor must be educated in all the languages of both north and south from his earliest years,' said Nubol. 'It is the way of our people, back to our ancestors who established these cities.'

'The Corsairs, on the other hand, are a maritime folk,' said the Ploíarkos. 'It has always behoved even the humblest of sailors to speak the Common Language, at the very least.'

'We have often been subject to northern rule, in addition,' said Castamir. He had grown impatient; his fingers drummed upon the table in increasingly irritated patterns.

'What of Far Harad?' Aragorn asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters. He was perhaps as eager as the Captain to embark upon negotiations, but it would not do to begin on contentious ground. 'Beyond the Ered Enaid?'

'Khand,' the Ephor muttered, taking a few moments to muse to himself. 'They are a people apart.'

'There were quite a few misunderstandings between us during the War,' Nubol admitted. 'In truth, I do not think even the most elevated commanders of our forces were capable of exerting any sort of control over the warriors of Far Harad.'

'Following the War, they returned back over the mountains, and have been seen in these lands no more,' said Tharbadír.

A brief lull followed as several teacups were refilled and memories were compared to this new information. It was then that the Captain seized his opening.

'It is truly remarkable that we find ourselves amicably seated in the same room, though the strife between our lands predates each of us,' he remarked. Castamir was not nearly the statesman his daughter was, yet he was not oblivious; he had made note of Aragorn's hasty comment earlier, and discerned the intentions behind it.

But nor was the Ephor himself blind to others' machinations. 'What is it you wish to say?' he demanded. 'Speak candidly.'

Castamir pursed his lips; Herufoth's attitude was not inviting, yet it was the most receptive response he had given since the travellers' arrival three days prior. The Captain decided to capitalise on this opportunity, no matter how small.

'I believe the conditions under which we made our most recent agreements have shifted,' he said. 'The Dark Lord's promises proved false – and perhaps would have done so even had we reigned victorious in the War. Moreover, I believe King Aragorn's presence here evidences the notion that Gondor no longer poses a direct threat to the Sutherlands.'

'I do not comprehend your thread of logic,' said the Ephor obstinately. Whether or not he discerned Castamir's meaning, he would most certainly not admit to it; he would force the Southrons to delineate their precise intentions, weaving themselves into their own trap.

'For many years, your deputies have exacted taxing payment from our coffers in return for protection from outside perils,' said Tharbadír. 'Now that those perils no longer exist, we wish to renegotiate such arrangements.'

The Ephor laughed brazenly then, the rich tones of his voice reverberating off the tiled walls. 'You wish to negotiate! With what leverage do you make such suggestions? What new advantage can you boast of?'

'The strength of Gondor,' Aragorn interjected.

The Ephor's eyes fell upon him then, full of surprise and perhaps a hint of anger, yet this did not deter him. 'I come amongst you as King of the Reunited Realm to advocate for more equal accord between Umbar and Harad.'

'And the strength of Rohan,' added Éomer. 'The northern kingdoms are allied in these negotiations, as they are in all things.'

'What business is it of the Forodrim the agreements that exist between Sutherland lords?' asked the Yüzbashı.

'A great deal, when my seaports of Lebennin and Belfalas find themselves under the assault of a nation driven to desperation,' said Aragorn.

The Ephor's glare bored into Aragorn before fixing upon Castamir. 'And what solution would you suggest?' he said, jaw clenched. 'What stipulations do you request?'

'Immediate cessation of levy collection,' the Captain said at once. 'With the understanding, of course, that this would result in the cessation of protections.'

'Harad's commitment to defence of the Havens is not merely for the Corsairs' benefit,' said Herufoth. 'I should not care to think what troubles would plague us all, were the port to fall once more into the hands of those unfriendly to the south.'

'If the security of Umbar is so crucial to Harad, then the financial remuneration the Corsairs pay is excessive,' Éomer argued. 'As of the current arrangement, you benefit doubly: both from the Haven's solidified position, then again from their coin. Is it not indeed in your own interest that you seek to bolster defences along the coast? Yet if this is not so, and the Corsairs wish to be rid of Harad's overreaching arm, why not abandon them to their chosen fate?'

'The Captain's lack of concern is a façade,' exclaimed the Ephor. 'He is fearful as ever, yet believes that in affecting nonchalance, he can simultaneously retain protection whilst being free of its financial burden. It is not inexpensive to maintain an army, as you well know, my lords; the funds must come from somewhere.'

'Perhaps said funds ought to come from the gem mines you press my workers into slavery for,' snipped the Captain.

Herufoth leapt to his feet at this accusation, shoulders trembling and brows thrust together in rage. 'I refuse to be spoken to in such a manner!' he cried. 'None within my borders are slaves; indeed, your workers come into my lands thankful they shall not lead lives shortened by drinking in the noxious fumes of your cupellation methods! Do not perpetuate such misconceptions out of a desire to press your advantage with the Forodrim.

'And you!' he continued, pointing an accusatory finger first at Aragorn and then Éomer. 'You thieved our Oliphaunts from us, claiming they were likewise pressed into servitude – but it is not so! They are no different than the horses you donkey-wallopers ride into battle. But you northmen are ever saying one thing, only to do another. You are little better than the Captain.'

Castamir made as if to respond, yet Aragorn laid a gentle hand upon his arm; to argue these points would only cause the Ephor to defend himself all the more vehemently, and bring about no resolution.

'Let us not go in search of each other's faults, for they are many,' said Aragorn, 'and instead consider the ways in which we might come to an arrangement that benefits all parties equally.'

Herufoth gave a huff and took a seat once more. 'So you say, yet offer no solutions,' said he. 'Such an arrangement already exists: that by which we have lived until now, where the strong defend the weak, and the weak support the strong as best they can.'

The argument devolved rapidly into sullen silence. Éomer gave a frustrated sigh, and the two Sutherland lords returned to their tea, pointedly ignoring each other. The wheels of Aragorn's mind turned, yet he allowed the quiet to linger, for it was clear they would get no further that day.

Nor apparently the next, or the next – for each time any member of the company broached the topic of negotiations, another was sure to raise immediate objections. Never had Aragorn encountered such a political impasse as the Captain and Ephor presented. Several weeks passed in this manner, yet still they appeared no more nearer an accordance than when the travellers had first arrived.

As they had in the Havens, the Forodrim took the opportunity to rove about the city and its surrounding lands, guided by Indil and Undómírë. In exploring an array of ceramic workshops, which were the source of Herumoros' immaculate tiles, and the dovecotes that played counterpart to those of Umbar, they were never unaccompanied by the Yüzbashı, who showed far greater caution than Tharbadír ever had.

After touring the city itself, the company emerged beyond the city walls. Forging some distance up the Sîr Talath, they inspected the multitude of farms there, or toured wineries that took sap from date palms and distilled it into alcohol, or simply allowed it to ferment into vinegar. They visited also the many textile compounds, where threads of diverse colours were woven into traditional patterns of the south, creating the tapestries and carpets that adorned the walls throughout Herumoros.

But no experience was met with such wide-eyed fascination as that which was begun when Indil burst into the dining theatre one morning, followed closely by Undómírë, just as the company sat down to their breakfast of lamb and rice.

'Father!' Indil exclaimed. 'What are you doing? Have you forgotten? You are not to eat breakfast this day!'

'Ah,' said the Ephor, rather less than enthusiastically. 'I've business yet to conduct with the Captain; the guards shall escort you and our guests, for both Nubol and the Ploíarkos are away on business. And please do not lose me any great coin, as last time.'

'Yes, father,' Indil agreed, cheeks red and head bowed.

'Come, come,' Undómírë urged the northerners, who rose in confusion and allowed her to herd them out into the courtyard, leaving their meals untouched. Both the Haradrim and Gondorian guards fell in behind as the company scurried through the garden towards the gates of Luxumarto, but they would not depart so swiftly. No sooner had they gained the outer wall of the citadel than a sentry leapt forward with a deep bow.

'Milady, we have anticipated your coming,' said he. 'Your father has ordered that your appearance be made in accordance with tradition.'

'Ah, but it is so terribly inconvenient!' Indil complained as a quartet of warriors emerged from the gatehouse bearing a white and gold brocade canopy of state. Its long crimson curtains of organza fluttered to the ground, and was only so large as to fit the two princesses alone.

'An unaccompanied Haradrim princess must at all times be shielded from the public's eye during public functions,' Undómírë murmured by way of explanation to Aragorn as she slipped between the concealing curtains after Indil.

The guards arrayed themselves about the baldaquin, indicating for Aragorn and the others to follow behind, and with a final greeting to those on sentry, the company emerged into the city itself.

They joined an ever-swelling crowd of Southrons who made their way down, down to the main entrance of Herumoros, sending up raucous cheers and a cacophony of musical instruments and other noisemakers. The northerners, having been spied with some frequency about the city, were greeted with far less suspicion than they had been upon their arrival, and some Haradrim even extended greetings in Westron. Others attempted to draw near their princess, for they knew her to be hidden behind the canopy's screen, but were swiftly rebuffed by the encircling guards.

When the press of people neared the main gates, this differentiation became even more apparent as ordinary citizens bumbled about in an attempt to form inspection lines, whereas those in the canopy retinue simply strode onwards. Just before the battlements, the sentries snapped to attention and ushered the party through without a moment of delay.

Once beyond the immense gates, they turned south upon the great road which ran perpendicular to that of the caravanserai and the Havens beyond. Already a great clamour could be heard just ahead. As the company rounded the walls of the city, an immense grandstand came into view, littered with fluttering banners and awnings. Throngs of spectators stretched as far as the eye could see in the hazy desert morning air, shouting and jeering at some unseen spectacle.

'It is yet the preliminary races – we have not missed much,' came Indril's voice from within the canopy. 'Let us hurry.'

The crowds parted more easily here, for each individual was preoccupied by and rushed about on his own business. Guided by the canopy, Aragorn and the others proceeded a short distance along the road before coming to the stands' entrance, its sandstone façade and high arch a swirl of floral motifs. When the company ducked into the vestibule beyond, they were greeted by the welcome respite of shade, tiled flooring cool beneath their feet.

They did not pause long, however, and swiftly ascended a series of staircases, white rendered walls smooth beneath their hands. Passing spectators leapt aside in deference, only to scurry away when the crowd's roar swelled.

At the top of the third stair, a quartet of guardsmen stood before an archway. 'Welcome, milady,' said one, pulling the privacy curtain aside.

Indil and Undómírë stepped directly from the canopy into the area beyond. Only once the awkward bundle of poles and fabric was stored did the remainder of the party enter – all save the Haradrim warriors, who took up positions beside their compatriots. The northerners emerged to find themselves on a small platform, shielded from the morning sun by a calico awning, and from the view of neighbouring spectators by wide curtains. Directly below, the crowds milled about in excitement, packed shoulder to shoulder in the stands.

But that was not what drew Aragorn's eye. In the narrow strip of land between Harad Road and the glimmering Sîr Talath stretched a series of three eccentric tracks, the largest of which must surely have measured at least two leagues in circumference, but all coming to pass directly before the gallery.

Even as the company looked on, nearly a score of kamels were aligned on the stretch of track nearest the grandstands. Each creature was adorned with its own unique saddle blanket, and seated upon their backs were tiny jockeys – no more than children. The kamels' feet stomped and their necks strained behind a strip of fabric stretched across the track at head-height, stilled against the faint breeze by a wooden framework. One creature nipped at another, and was subsequently led to a position on the outside of the track.

Then a horn sounded. The starting gate shot upwards and the kamels careened forward, their knock-kneed limbs splaying wide as they bumped and jostled for position along the sandy track. The crowd's roar was deafening, and soon picked up by those beyond the gallery, who stood at the fence along the track edge, all about the entire circumference. Nearly every citizen of Herumoros and its surrounding villages had gathered to watch the races.

'That's me out already,' Indil sighed, flopping into a chair so heavily padded and ornamented it might very well have been a throne. She motioned for a servant to step forward and waft her in the gentle breeze of an immense fan. 'Old Sığırtmac's kamels ought to automatically start on the outside – they are always so mean!'

'"Always"?' questioned Éomer. 'Are such races a common occurrence, then?'

'Have you not heard the horns?' said Undómírë, motioning for the northerners to take their own seats. Through a few subtle movements, she ensured Aragorn sat between Éomer and herself. 'They are near constant.'

'Though most races are not nearly so grand in scale,' Indil added. 'My father arranged these especially, and in the name of the Forodrim kings, with the hope that they would endear you in the minds of our people.'

'I suppose that is why we were greeted with such exceptional cheer this morning,' Maeron remarked.

'The Haradrim are ever thankful for an excuse to indulge in the races – and today they will surely get them!' said Indil. 'It is said there are to be so many that the championship race shall take place after sunset, illuminated by torches. So please be at ease; if you are hungry or thirsty, you need merely say so. Otherwise, enjoy the entertainment put forth in your honour.'

Aragorn settled into his seat and accepted a cup of mint tea from a servant, then squinted off across the distance to where the tiny specks of kamels turned onto the stretch along the track's far side, scarcely visible. Down below, vendors stalked up and down the fence or shoved through the narrow gallery walkways, calling out offerings of olives or stuffed flatbreads or the ever-popular skewered meat.

Scarcely a quarter hour passed before the kamels came hurtling back around the track, their massive lips flapping wildly with each stride. The crowds grew riotous as the first few creatures crossed the line and stumbled to a gangly stop; a scuffle subsequently broke out, contesting the results, but no sooner was the decided winner crowned than a new selection of kamels were led out and the process repeated – though these were sent around the smaller of the inner tracks, and returned all the sooner for it.

'They're funny creatures, these kamels,' Éomer remarked to Aragorn in one of the quieter moments, as a parade of servants carried in a veritable feast upon copper platters. 'They move as though they're constantly trying to keep from falling over, and yet I never would have expected the beasts we rode from Umbar to move so fast as that. I reckon the Captain spoke true – kamels would outlast a horse in the desert well enough; though I must admit I miss Firefoot dearly.'

'Gamhelm and the others will see he is well cared for,' Aragorn said in reassurance, digging into a bowl of stewed lentils.

'To be sure,' Éomer agreed. 'I just can't help but worry.'

It was not a sentiment unshared. There were a host of concerns that had crowded Aragorn's mind from the outset of their journey, not least of which were the affairs of his kingdom that went unaddressed while he was away – but most of which was undeniably a certain shieldmaiden who tramped all across the northern realms. It was just the other day he could have sworn he sensed her presence when dining upon a midday meal with the Ephor and others. And thus Aragorn's thoughts wandered as the sun tracked higher overhead, then shifted towards the rear of the gallery.

Come noon, an unprecedentedly long break followed the conclusion of one race, which caused Indil to perk up a great deal. 'Excellent!' she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. 'The Masters' races are to begin – perhaps they will prove more favourable to me.'

Even as she spoke, an entire swarm of kamels was led from the stables along the northern end of the track, then placed in the holding pen beside the stands. Hundreds of beasts and riders formed a colourful sea of blanket, bridle, and robe, feeding the sense of mounting anticipation.

Only a dozen kamels deviated from the others to make for the starting line. During the jostle behind the gate, however, one jockey plummeted from saddle to sand, sending gasps rippling through the spectators.

'Aiya, already?' cried Indil. 'Ah, well, it was his first Masters' race; perhaps we pushed him too quickly.'

In one fell swoop, the child was swept up by an attendant and carried off the track. Another was led out just as swiftly and placed upon the kamel in his stead. With scarcely a pause, this new heat took off around the middle track.

As the hubbub died down, Undómírë leaned in close to Aragorn and lowered her voice so that not even Éomer could hear – though this was an easy feat, for even in its quieter moments the crowd was exceptionally boisterous.

'Why so sour an expression, milord?' she asked, holding out a plate of figs in offering. 'Do these events held in your honour displease you?'

Aragorn's gaze remained fixed on the tent the fallen rider had been ushered into. 'They are so young,' he muttered.

'And where do you think those children come from?' Undómírë's eyes glimmered with keen intent when Aragorn turned to fix her with a stare. 'Though it is not always by force,' she added. 'Some Corsairs believe Harad will provide their children better opportunities than anything they would find in the Havens.'

'There are so many…'

'Some surely come from Harad's own lesser tribes,' the princess laughed bitterly. 'I do not think all the children of the Havens alone could sate the Haradrim's greed for kamel riders.'

Aragorn fell into brooding; his thoughts immediately turned to the Hidlands and all that Truva had experienced there. To know her tale was not unique – that others continued to suffer as she had – left him feeling impotent and ineffectual, as though all the evils the world sowed could never be plucked before reaping.

'It is yet one more reason why our negotiations with Harad must not fail,' Undómírë insisted. 'But Herufoth denies the practice outright, of course, and thus – with all things involving the Ephor – it must be approached obliquely. I believe I can trust you in this matter, I must trust you in this matter, for you see things as I do.'

She studied Aragorn with a scrutiny so intense he felt as though all his intents and purposes lay stripped bare before her. He gave a nod of understanding; then, with a final significant glance, Undómírë turned back to Indil and resumed their cheery conversation as though nothing had occurred. Contrarily, Aragorn waited until an opportune moment to convey all he had learned to Éomer, who reacted in much the same manner. A dark pallor overtook the events; where once was fascination – if not outright enthusiasm – there was now unease.

It was not long after that the balcony curtain was again thrust aside. The Ephor himself emerged through the archway, accompanied by the Captain, and with a chorus of greetings they took positions of prominence amidst those already present. A stream of dishes followed, for indeed the skies were already taking on the dusky hue of early evening.

'How goes it, my child?' the Ephor asked of Indil as he deftly extricated the skeleton from his fillet of perch.

'It is rather worse than last time, I'm afraid,' she replied, a charming smile plumping her cheeks. It was easy to see why the Ephor humoured her so thoroughly.

'You silly girl,' he said with an amused shake of his head, turning at once to discuss the day's events with Undómírë. Aragorn leaned ever so slightly past Éomer to catch the Captain's attention.

'And the matters you spoke of with the Ephor?' he asked. 'Have you any progress to report?'

But Castamir simply shook his head, and a peevish expression passed across his face. Abandoning all talk of business, the company plunged into more pleasurable topics of conversation, though they were briefly interrupted when an audible thrill ran through the crowd. There was yet another pause in the bouts.

'The champions' race!' Indil enthused, drawing her chair nearer the parapet.

Music was struck up somewhere in the stands high above, screened by the canopy. Upon the track, two flame-bearing attendants stepped forward, one on each side of the starting gate, and touched their brands to the poles. At once, torches all about the longest track were lit, illuminating even its most distant stretch. A horn was sounded.

These kamels did not emerge in a disorderly group, as the others had. Twoscore were led one by one, swathed in silks of white and adorned with flower garlands, past the stands and then back again to the starting gate. Here their white covering was stripped away to reveal the colour of their saddle blanket below: bold yellows blocked with sable, stripes of cerulean and orange, crimson snakes upon green fields. The garlands were removed, then placed about the jockeys' necks as they were lifted into the saddle, then returned once more to the attendants. After a final stroke down the kamels' nose, the attendants disappeared.

The crowd grew so quiet that the beasts' stomping and snorting could easily be heard; their chests pushed forward, eager, just barely restrained by their riders.

The starting gate lifted.

Wild shouts broke out at once as the beasts vanished into the darkness – for not even with the torches could any great distance be seen along the track. Once the kamels had passed their section, spectators from the south flocked to the starting line, hoping to catch a glimpse of the final result. They merely wound up trapped in the press of others with the same notion. Those upon the balcony merely concluded the remainder of their meal in varied spirits, waiting for the wave of excitement from the north to alert them of the race's return.

It came more swiftly than any of the northern party could have anticipated, for these kamels far outpaced their earlier counterparts.

No sooner did the first kamel's nose become visible than Indil leapt to her feet. 'Father! Father!' she cried. 'Is that not the blanket of purple lilies? For all my losses, I have now made you a little richer this night!'

Sure enough, through the darkness glimmered golden threads of embroidered flowers upon plum-coloured silk, the kamel that bore it in the lead. The finish was not even closely contested – the next creature loped across the finish line three full kamel-lengths later. The crowd's cheers were deafening, and with a gesture from Herufoth, guards manipulated the balcony's awning and curtains until they were drawn fully back, revealing the party there.

The Ephor rose to his feet. He did not call for silence, but the effect was near-immediate. As those less fortunate racers led their kamels back to the stables, the victorious purple lilies and its owner came to stand before the balcony.

'Tell me, kamel-master,' said the Ephor. 'What is your name, and that of your kamel?'

'Sığırtmac is my name, milord,' said the man, wiping spittle and foam from the animal's mouth. 'And Domuz my beast.'

'His kamels are mean, but they are fast,' Indil whispered to the northerners with a wink.

'You have a commendable animal there, Sığırtmac.'

'Thank you, Ephor Herufoth.'

'And you have made my daughter happy, as well. Bring your beast to Luxumarto on the morrow, and you shall be rewarded handsomely.'

'Thank you, milord,' said Sığırtmac, bowing low and leading the panting Domuz after the others.

With that, a sense of finality overtook the gathering. The spectators became a unified entity with the single-minded purpose of returning home. Many strove to consume the remainder of their palm-wine, while others sought out new sources of said palm-wine; but all were in a merry mood, whether they had profited or lost heavily that day. It took a great deal of intervention on the Haradrim guards' part to keep the boisterous crowds separate from the royal family and their distinguished guests.

It was a long, slow walk back to the main city and up the hill to Luxumarto. When at last the company passed through the citadel gates, Aragorn's ears rang for the blessed quietude, and he basked in the tranquillity of the palace's garden. But even as the others made towards the dining theatre for a nightcap, he felt the gentle pull of Undómírë's hand at his elbow.

'A word, milord?' she said quietly.

In truth, Aragorn was grateful for any excuse to linger in the garden, and readily agreed. A glance passed between himself and Éomer; it was all that was needed.

The lilting voices of the others settling in for libations hung upon the air as Aragorn and Undómírë strolled along winding pathways. The racing tracks had been unbearably hot, even with the gust of fans and refreshing mint tea, and so the myrtle trees' cool depths felt especially pleasant by comparison. Neither Aragorn nor Undómírë was overeager to break the silence after such a raucous day, and so they merely breathed deeply, drinking in the gardens' revitalising atmosphere.

'I spoke with my father this afternoon, when the Ephor was preoccupied with Indil,' Undómírë said at last. 'Herufoth continues to insist on financial recompense for maintaining Haradrim defences in Umbar, and will not acknowledge the Corsairs' contributions far exceed what little benefits we receive.'

'It seems these talks serve only to further sour the relationship between the Sutherland realms, rather than repair it,' Aragorn sighed.

'The discord between Harad and Umbar unfortunately preexists the city-state itself. Both my father and the Ephor were born into a world where the two realms did not dwell in harmony, and neither has ever seen the need to rectify that fact.'

'Gondor has such a need,' Aragorn insisted. He paused to inspect a newly-blossomed crinum, its white petals curling outward to disperse a sweet scent into the cool night air.

'A vlei lily,' Undómírë explained. When Aragorn turned his gaze upon her, she gave a wry smile. 'It has medicinal uses – primarily for back pain or swelling – and so it is one of the few plants with which I am familiar.'

'I see.'

There was some peculiar air about Undómírë in that moment, a hesitancy that did not ordinarily haunt the bold princess, an energy which caused her words to tumble out more rapidly and less assuredly than usual – though the change was ever so slight that Aragorn would not have made note of it a mere few weeks ago.

'Milord, I have a notion that might expedite discussions with the Ephor,' she said suddenly.

Aragorn studied her closely, seeking to discern what unspoken plans might lie behind those keen grey eyes. 'Any method by which we might overcome this impasse would be a welcome one, indeed,' he said at last.

'Perhaps you should first hear my proposition, and then make your judgments of it, my lord.'

'Very well, let's have it.'

Undómírë stepped closer then, taking a short breath as if to speak, but no words came; rather, she continued to draw ever nearer, her lips no more than a hand's breadth away before Aragorn understood with a jolt what her intentions were. He leapt back, raising both hands between them.

'What is the meaning of this?' he exclaimed.

'I—' Undómírë stammered. 'Would this not be best for both our realms? Umbar would gain a powerful ally, and Gondor a bulwark between its southern lands and Harad – as well as assured protection from wayward Corsairs, for none would dare so openly defy the Captain, or put at risk his alliances.'

Aragron stood unmoving a moment, caught wholly unawares. His suspicions had been aroused all those weeks ago in the guard tower, when the princess had questioned his relationship with Arwen, and yet he had never once considered her ultimate ambitions to be so bold. He had, perhaps, been so consumed by his existing affections that he failed to see what was plain before him.

'I must apologise,' he said flatly. 'I have no thought of entering into a marriage of convenience; Gondor's position is not nearly so weak as to require it. On the contrary, I fear such a nuptial arrangement would prove detrimental to my kingship, too swiftly binding me to an ally without full insight into dynamics that continue to shift in the War's aftermath.'

Uncharacteristic sorrow welled in Undómírë's eyes, but she would not resign herself so easily – not without further appeal.

'I do not ask out of mere practicality,' she murmured. 'Surely I am not alone in having felt certain emotions develop in recent days? You are a kind and thoughtful man, Lord Aragorn, and have shown me – the daughter of your enemy – grace beyond your role as High King of Gondor. Was my hope misplaced, in thinking you might harbour some tenderness for me?'

'I feel no such sentiments,' said Aragorn, his tone somewhat lacking in sympathy.

A single tear tracked down Undómírë's cheek, taking Aragorn aback, yet he had thoughts of no other save Truva. A furious desire to protect her swelled within his breast; for though their relationship was known to none other save themselves and Gandalf – and Aragorn would therefore have to halt Undómírë's advances without invoking it – he would not dare betray even the smallest portion of Truva's trust in him.

'You are a leader in your own right, Lady Undómírë – bold and intelligent,' he continued. 'And I have no doubt accords between Umbar and Harad may be reached without resorting to such a dramatic ruse. Gondor's commitment shall ever be to harmony amongst nations – whether we are married or no.'

'What of that night upon the sands of Laurinairë, when you asked why I slept within the litter? Or when we gazed upon the stars together, or when I spoke to you of plants and their origins, and of the artwork that graces the walls of Coronon?'

'They are the same niceties I would have extended to any Man, regardless of rank or circumstance.'

Undómírë ducked her head, a patter of tears falling to the earthen path. 'Do you truly feel nothing for me?' she whispered.

Aragorn suppressed a sigh. "Fellowship, nothing more," he answered.

Undómírë whirled away at once, dashing through the garden and out of sight, leaving Aragorn to tussle with his bemused thoughts. His intention had never been to hurt the princess; he would have rebuffed her all the sooner had he fully discerned her true emotions, yet the entire situation had come swiftly and unexpectedly into focus. He chastised himself for not having been more perceptive.

Determined to find Éomer and consult with him, Aragorn stalked off in the direction of the dining theatre, only to discover the Ephor laid out upon the pillows fast asleep, his advisors engaged in some unfamiliar strategy game of triangles and stones. Politely declining their offer to join, he made instead for the northerners' sleeping quarters.

No sooner had he entered the chambers and found them empty than Éomer darted in, looking nearly as frantic as Aragorn himself.

'You would not believe—! The most absurd—! —just happened!' the Eorling King huffed, unable to formulate complete thoughts.

With a single glance at his companion's discomposure, Aragorn immediately determined its source: 'Indil has proposed a marital arrangement,' he hazarded.

'Just so!' Éomer cried. 'Though it was a somewhat less dignified affair than such words would suggest. How in Helm's name—?'

'I have been the recipient of a similar offer, even now.'

'Undómírë?' Éomer speculated. Aragorn nodded in confirmation, causing Éomer to shake his head half in astonishment, half in amusement. 'Eorl must be laughing! How do you suppose this development might affect negotiations?'

"Rather poorly in our favour, I would think,' Aragorn mused. 'Until now, we relied on the tension between Umbar and Harad to inform our position; if they unify against us for having slighted both their daughters, it shall prove disastrous.'

'The armada arrayed in the Havens' bay was beyond our wildest expectations, in and of itself,' said Éomer. 'I shudder to think what might become of us, were that force combined with the strength of Harad.'

'There is something else at play here I cannot quite discern—' Aragorn began, but at that very moment, Undómírë threw open the chamber doors and stood boldly in the archway. Her appearance was in disarray, yet her face was once more composed, without a trace of its earlier distress.

'You had best leave,' she declared. 'Now.'

'Would you perhaps care to explain what exactly is going on?' Éomer demanded.

Undómírë drew up to her full height, smoothing her robes before entering the bedchamber and sliding the door closed behind her. 'As I imagine you have now determined, your position here is no longer safe,' she said. 'Indeed, it was intended that way from the outset; the Sutherlands work together to secure an advantage against the north.

'Under the guidance of Harad, Umbar sent a limited number of ships to attack Pelargir and the southern coasts of Lebennin and Belfalas, baiting Gondor into an attack. Meanwhile, our combined forces lay in wait within the bay of Umbar; yet when you arrived sailing the white flag of parley, another line of strategy was devised: that of kin alliance.'

'So the white flag did save us,' Éomer mumbled to himself.

'For a time, anyway,' said Undómírë. 'The Captain did his utmost to delay your party in Umbar, allowing myself time to grow familiar with King Aragorn. In the meantime, we presented ourselves as being at odds with Harad, enticing you to travel eastward for the purpose of negotiations and thus separating you from your forces. Once in Harad, we again stalled, providing Indil an opportunity to avail herself upon King Éomer.

'All this was done with the intention that, should you reject our advances, the initial plan would be resumed – with all the greater likelihood of success, for both kings would be far distant from their troops when our attack came. Only an official marriage would prove adequate assurance to the Ephor of the north's allyship, and doubly so to my father.'

Éomer stood stunned, mouth agape, and even Aragorn only just managed to compose himself enough to ask, 'Why do you risk their plans to tell us this?'

'My father's self-serving and spineless governance has brought tremendous hardship unto my people,' Undómírë spat. 'If this venture with Harad were to fail, I would at last convince Tharbadír and the other advisors of Castamir's incompetence, and gain sufficient support to be instated in his stead. And so, you see, I stood to gain immensely from either outcome: if not the Queenship of Gondor, then the Corsairs' Captainship.'

'So it was all a contrivance,' mused Aragorn.

'Helm's name, but did you all play the part well!' Éomer exclaimed.

'In truth, the discord between my father and the Ephor simmered as ever beneath the surface,' said Undómírë. 'That much was unaffected; yet both were willing to overlook their disagreements if it could prove mutually beneficial, especially at the expense of the Forodrim. And though I can make no guess as to the Ephor's intentions, I well know that – were my father to secure the singular support of Gondor – he would have betrayed Lord Herufoth without hesitation.'

'As easily as you would betray him,' Aragorn remarked.

'I do not seek your approval, my lord,' said Undómírë, her manner suddenly cold. 'I do what is best for my people.'

'Would Umbar not fare better if Gondor were routed entirely and driven from these lands? Why do you seek to prevent that?' asked Éomer.

'In truth, I do not believe the Sutherlands can best the north, even with the advantage of surprise,' the princess answered simply. 'And thus it is my aim to avoid any great loss on both sides by giving you forewarning – with the additional hope that my actions endear my cause to you, and we might begin a more congenial alliance once I depose my father.'

'Such dealings require thorough consideration,' said Aragorn, 'yet we've not the time – I assume you give us warning now, having first informed the Captain and Ephor of our refusal to plight our troth?'

'A carrier pigeon was long ago sent to Umbar, bearing the order to attack your ships within the Havens and along the coastline. The Yüzbashı and Ploíarkos' absence is likewise due to their return to lead the assault. You must go – I have ensured you will not be stopped at the gates; take our fastest kamels and travel northward upon Harad Road, making for the Harlond River.'

'There lies the settlement of Glâniant, at the intersection of river and road, is it not so?' said Aragorn. 'I have been there in my travels; they were not overly friendly upon first approach.'

'I think you will find you are even less welcoming now,' said Undómírë. 'But their defences are not strong; you will be able to procure a boat there, and sail along the southern distributary to Umbar. Even such a circuitous route will be far swifter and less dangerous than traversing back across the desert unguided, beneath stars you do not know.'

Aragorn gave the Princess one last, scrutinising look, then said to Éomer, 'Let us begone from this disastrous place.'

Even as they brushed past Undómírë, however, she caught Éomer's arm.

'My lord!' she entreated. 'I beg of you to reconsider Lady Indil's offer in earnest; of all the suitors presented to her over the years, you were the first to show her any hint of consideration, no matter how unintentional. She genuinely cares for you.'

Éomer paused only momentarily, then shook his arm free and hurried past Aragorn, murmuring, 'My mind is adrift, and I know not what to trust; perhaps such words are no more than a further contrivance of the Southrons' deviated minds.'

They raced to the guards' chambers and pounded on the door, which was opened at once by Maeron. The Captain asked no questions, for he had no need to – the Kings' expressions spoke fluently enough. Within moments, the remaining guards were roused from their slumber, packs were gathered, and the company crept furtively along the arcade and through the garden.

To their tremendous surprise, Undómírë had spoken truly; not a soul was to be spotted about the guardhouse of Luxumarto. Still anticipating their discovery at every turn, Aragorn and the others slipped through the gate and snuck across the barren expanse towards the main city. The quiet murmur of conversation surrounded them as they passed by countless dwellings in which families settled into the last portion of their evening together – scenes of domesticity in sharp contrast to their desperate straits.

The company arrived at the caravanserai unaccosted, though whether it was due to Undómírë's influence or sheer luck, Aragorn did not wish to guess. But surely it was not pure happenstance by which six kamels were saddled and supplied with full waterskins, and the Haradrim guards slept drunkenly in one corner.

'Would it not be better to exit the city first, then relieve the Haradrim of a few of their racing kamels?' asked Éomer, eyeing the bulky creatures loafing contentedly in their stalls. 'We are certain to be caught if we ride out on the backs of these beasts.'

'No,' murmured Aragorn, stroking the nose of Deve – the loyal mount who had borne him from the Havens. 'We will not emerge from this city unnoticed; it is best we affect assurance and purpose. And while those kamels that are bred to race are swift, they are unaccustomed to travelling long distances, let alone carrying the weight of a grown man. They will not bear us hence.'

Persuaded by this logic, the company set about assisting each other in mounting the kamels. By the time they turned out of the caravanserai and approached the city gates, riding down the very centre of the lane as though nothing were amiss, it was no more than an hour before midnight.

The hail was loud in the late-night hush of the city. 'Where do you go at this hour?' cried the guard.

'We wish to ride beneath the moon and starlight,' replied Aragorn, feigning inebriation; perhaps it might engender leniency towards the Forodrim's 'peculiar whims'. For further authenticity, he leaned slightly closer to the guard – but not so close the man could smell the lack of spirits on his breath – and added in a low voice, 'Between you and me, I have heard rumours of an illicit midnight race this very night. My source tells me to place all my coin on the kamel with a saddle blanket of ruby pomegranates.'

The guard's right eyebrow raised slightly. Aragorn feared he had overplayed his hand, but then the man winked so furtively Aragorn was not sure he had seen it.

'Ruby pomegranates, you say?' the guard mused. 'Why, thank you kindly, Forodrim master! I hope to see you on the stretch in a short while!'

Aragorn returned his own wink and turned northward upon the Harad Road, yet the company had not gone five paces before the guard cried after them: 'The track is to the south of the city, my lords!'

Aragorn's breath seized in his chest, yet before he could work out a response, Éomer's voice called out, 'It is such a glorious, warm night – you would not begrudge us a circuit about the city, now, would you?'

'The night is rather chill to us, yet perhaps it is pleasant to these strange Forodrim,' muttered the guard to himself, but nevertheless waved them onward.

In the darkness, the two Kings' heads turned towards each other to exchange a glance that could not be seen. Aragorn took the lead, setting an unhurried pace along the road's hardened earth as Éomer lingered in the rear, assuring none fell behind or veered off course. When they were some distance from the gate – far enough their figures would be no more than indistinct shadows in the night – Aragorn urged Deve into a trot, then a gallop. The others followed close behind.

As they took off into the night, a horn sounded from the heights of Luxumarto.