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Old 12-21-2006, 11:05 AM   #60
Anguirel
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Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: The 1590s
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The chamber beyond the hall was ill-lit, but the slight, winnowing fires did not reveal bear stone; the place was generously hung, Lachrandir observed, with brownish tapestries, notched by crude, dark figures, some sitting, some drinking, some fighting, one bowing low. Such draperies must bear much of what this people knew of its history, he considered. But the future of the Ulfings, not their past, was now his concern, as it had become entwined with the future of Caranthir, and probably all the Edain and Eldar as well.

"My lord is aware that the contingent he desires is great in number," Lachrandir said, with quiet but penetrating force in his voice. No answer came from the Ulfing potentates, but he suspected their gazes were sullen enough.

"Great in number it is," he continued, "but the Lord Caranthir would have you think him lenient. In the north the Lord Maedhros, who has summoned this League, requires the Borrim to fight fifteen thousand strong. In the lands of the High King, every grown male of Hador's people is summoned, saving only the lamed and the old. Caranthir has ever allowed you certain freedoms and governance and customs of your own. Now he calls to mind the debt to be settled."

Lachrandir paused, before summing up his message in an implausible line Caranthir had personally ordered him to impart.

"Our lord would have you follow him not out of fear, but love."

Silence still, mingled with some coughing from the old Chieftain. Then Ulfast and Uldor spoke at once.

"Certainly-"

"Well-"

Another embarrassed pause, and it was the father who left the last word.

"The muster shall be gathered. But I am old, sir, unfitted for such games; so the command of it shall fall upon my son..."

The quietness was palpable and burnished. Ulfast stepped quickly to his father's side, and regarded his face sternly. Uldor stayed where he was, his chin leant into his hand, his eyes glinting. Ulwarth stood apart, and the apparently foolish youngest son's glance was both sly and bitter.

"...my son and heir, Uldor. He shall be responsible for the gathering and training of men, and shall lead my army against the Enemy. Now, my eyes grow heavy...I would have this meeting be done..."

The sons of the Chieftain left like startled crows, each going their own way; the envoys at a slower pace, after bowing to Ulfang, also retired.
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