[Child of the 7th Age]

Saelonia stood silently in the middle of a great circle of swaying Huorn, a glint of triumph reflected in her shadowed eyes. The meeting was going better than expected. At her side was an Entwife, a graceful creature looming some twenty-five feet high with a delicate filigree of pale peach blossoms adorning her leafy brow. Before the meeting even started, Saelonia's soldiers were careful to surround the glade where the huorn met, hiding in nearby woods as they secretly brandished torches, chains, and sharpened prods in case Peachblossom attempted to flee.

Brethil and the other huorn were initially incredulous and then overawed to find a genuine Entwife in their midst, a being of gentle dignity and quiet strength who had not been seen within the confines of Fangorn for over three thousand years. Yet, the huorn instinctively knew who she was. Their own lore contained whispered tales of the Ent consorts who had become enamored of the open lands where they might tend the lesser Olar. Eons ago, the Entwives had moved to the Brown Lands to care for the flowers, shrubs, fruit trees, and smaller growing things, teaching men to till and reap the riches of the earth. Then, without prior warning, they'd silently disappeared. Despite the efforts of the Ents to locate them, no one was certain where the Entwives were hiding, or even whether they had lived or died.

Brethil stared at Peachblossom in open admiration and listened to her articulate her support for the Easterlings and their cause. He felt an overweening yearning within his heart that she be a true shepherdess of the trees and show the huorn what path they should take. In this way, his people could lock in some measure of hope. Yet, in the dim shadows of the fading moonlight, led on by the urgent pleadings of his heart, Brethil failed to notice the Entwife's drooping limbs, her air of sadness, or the sullen mask that had solidified over her features. Only too happy to welcome the return of an ancient one, Brethil and his kin bent leafy crowns to the ground and humbly promised to follow the Easterlings on whatever venture they proposed.

After the meeting broke up and the huorn retreated from the glade, the priestess pulled Azunel aside, rubbing her hands together in glee and secretly vowing to make Gondor pay. She tossed her black curls back from her face and turned to her companion with a look of triumph dawning in her eyes, "Tomorrow, at sunrise, you and your soldiers will lead the huorn to pillage and raid the countryside lying south and west of the Entwash. Make your way slowly towards Isengard and Edoras. Leave no one alive in your wake. I will send the messenger birds back to Rhun as I promised and urge the Khan to send a mighty force to topple the fortress of Minas Tirith. The King of Gondor will have his eyes so narrowly focused on the ravages to the west that he will never suspect that an even greater danger threatens his eastern border."

"Fair lady, we will do as you say. But what shall we do with the Entwife?"

Saelonia scowled, "I want no more problems with this one. We will have a few soldiers drive her back to Rhun in chains that she may return to her sisters and their work on the plantation." She pulled Azunel even further off the pathway and whispered in his ear, "This Entwife is so cowed by our threat to do away with her sisters should she misbehave, that she will follow our dictates in all things. Of that, I am sure"

With these final words, Salonia stalked down the path in the direction of the Easterlings' encampment, mulling over a hundred different ambitious plans that percolated within her mind all vying for her attention.

[ August 30, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]