Shadow of the West

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

“I think you misunderstand me Princess,” the Emissary replied. “I blame myself. I come from a land in which we have known war and strife for far too long, and it has coloured our view of the world. The peace that you in Pashtia have enjoyed for almost a generation now is but newly established in our realms, and as a result my Lord and his people are ever wary of new conflict. There is no specific threat that we fear, nor do we perceive any such to be directed at you. Perhaps it might help if I explain somewhat of our more recent history…?” The Prince and Princess seemed interested in what Ashnaz would have to say on this matter, and even Faroz, who had heard much of that the day before, became intrigued by the possibility of new revelations.

Ashnaz asked if he might be seated before settling himself upon his cushions. He took a moment in arranging his robes about him. Faroz seized the opportunity to move further into the room. As he passed by his daughter he saw her shiver and glance about, and for a sliver of time Faroz was afraid that she might be able to see him, but as she glanced in his direction her eyes were fixed upon nothingness. Faroz indulged in another smile. He slipped by her and stood by a window where he could enjoy the sun, but its light and heat passed through him, leaving him chilled. Siamak turned toward the window, as though noticing the dimming of the light and his face took on an expression of faint alarm. Faroz followed his son’s eyes and noticed for the first time that in the full light of Rae’s glory he was casting a very faint shadow, like that which might be found beneath a thorn-bush upon a moonless but starry night. Siamak moved toward the window to investigate, but Faroz stepped aside into the shade once more.

“Is there something wrong Prince Siamak?” Ashnaz called out.

Siamak shook his head slowly, although is face still bore a thoughtful expression. “No, Emissary. I only thought I saw…nothing.”

“Well then,” the Westerner began, “to give you in brief the tale of my people…” He then began a narrative in which he retailed the story of the Lord Annatar, of how he had, alone among the Men of the West, sought out the friendship of the Elves, offering to teach them how to craft things of great worth. He told them of the wars between the Elves and Dwarves – a strange race of stunted men who lived beneath tall mountains and hoarded their wealth – and of how these wars had decimated the realms of both. An estrangement had grown between the Elves and the Lord Annatar, and then there had been invaders from the East and North, and hordes of monsters which he called orks emerged from their maggot holes to harry all. “As you can see,” he concluded, “there has been no end of conflict in my Lord’s realms, and all of it between races that could live in peace if only there could be understanding between them. Division and disunity have been the downfall of the West. At one time, in the distant past, there was but One who ruled all: the god Melkor. In his time there was neither war nor strife, nor any conflict between peoples. But then strangers from across the Western Sea came, bringing with them war and destruction.”

“I heard somewhat of this last night, Emissary,” Gjeelea put in. “These strangers from across the Sea were Elves, you said?”

“Aye, but not such Elves as you know here. These folk had been across the ocean to dwell with a mighty race of giants who gave them knowledge that is not fit for people of this world to possess. Having given them this knowledge and taught them how to make magical items of terrible power, these giants allowed the Elves – hardly Elves any longer in their pride – to return to Middle-earth. But those wars are long since over. For many years after their conclusion there was great enmity between all the peoples of the West, but my Lord Annatar has sought ever to mend these wounds, and to work for a time of peace like that enjoyed under the God Melkor.”

“You mean, your King seeks to unite all peoples under a single rule?” Siamak cried.

“No, no, my Prince! Those days are now long gone. Should there ever arise a King worthy of the role, then we can only hope that he would be chosen by the people of their own will, but until that time, we can make peace in the only way we can: through friendships, and alliances. This is why I am here. To ask for the alliance of Pashtia so that we can begin to spread this vision of universal accord throughout all the lands and not just the West!”

Gjeelea picked up an apricot and took an idle bite from it as she asked, “And what of Alanzia? Are they to be included in your new order?”

This caught the attention of Faroz. He had begun to wonder this himself, but had been reluctant to ask his friend for fear of the answer. If they were not to form alliance with Alanzia as well, that would present difficulties to the delicate balance between the two powers. If the Lord Annatar was to offer Alanzia an alliance, then would that included another Ring for its King? Faroz did not relish the idea of a rival monarch with the same power as he himself now enjoyed… “We can only hope,” Ashnaz replied, “that in time all nations will be united in peace. But as you yourself have said it is a mighty step we have made in approaching even a single realm so far from our own. My Lord wishes to see how things will fare with Pashtia.” It was a cunning answer, one that let them know that for the time being, Pashtia had been singled out, but it contained the slightest hint of a threat as well – if the Lord Annatar could not find alliance here, he might be willing to seek it with Alanzia.

Clamouring of feet and the clash of arms in the corridors drew their attention, and even as they began to wonder what was happening the guards rushed into the room crying out, “The King is missing, Majesties! You must come with us!”

Gjeelea and Siamak sprang to their feet with cries of alarm, demanding to be told more and why they must leave the apartment. “The Queen has ordered that the royal family be taken to a safe place until the King can be found. She fears that there is ill work afoot!” The guard who spoke could not hide the very quick glance that he shot toward the Emissary.

Faroz cursed. He knew instantly how the alarm had been raised: someone had come to his apartments to seek him out and found him gone – but who? There were few who were allowed access to his chambers, and none who would enter unless he had sent for them. The guards would never have permitted anyone to pass, on pain of their lives, except perhaps… The answer flashed into his mind at once. Bekah. Only she would be allowed to enter his rooms by the guards. She had come to seek him out. After all these years, why would she have chosen this particular time? He was furious with his wife, and had he been with her at that moment he might even have struck her for her impudence.

Faroz was shocked that the idea had come to him at all, and horrified at how…satisfying…it had seemed to him.

The clamour was growing and the King could hear panic growing in all the rooms of the Palace and spreading like an out of control contagion. He had but a few minutes in which to act before the situation would get completely out of control. He moved toward the door, intending to slip out, remove the Ring, and then re-enter. But as he neared the exit, the guards rushed forward to escort the Prince and Princess from the room, and one of them nearly collided with him. Faroz fell away from them and hit a wall, and a few eyes turned toward the sound. More guards arrived, making access to the door even more difficult. Through the window, Faroz could see riders pounding along the roadway from the Palace and he knew that within moments the news of his disappearance would hit the City. He no longer had any time, and reaching for the Ring he prepared to remove it despite the crowd.

Ashnaz stepped forward and spoke to the guards in a commanding tone that stilled them all. “Hold!” he cried. “Have you lost your senses? You are in the presence of your Prince and Princess, do not think to drag them from the room! Stand back, and let them proceed with you in dignity!” The guards looked upon his noble face and something in his eyes quelled them. In silence they fell away from the door. Ashnaz immediately stepped before the Prince and Princess, blocking their way, and bowing low said, “I am sorry to hear of this. If there is any aid that I or my men can lend you, we will of course do so!”

Faroz seized the chance that his friend had given him and rushed from the room. As he moved out the door he glanced back. Ashnaz had ceased to speak and was standing behind Gjeelea and Siamak and for a second it seemed as though he was looking directly into Faroz’s eyes. The idea thrilled the King. The corridors of the Palace were now full of people rushing to and fro, and it was difficult for the King to find a quiet corner. He finally found a place to be alone in a small passageway reserved for the passage of servants and he immediately removed the Ring. The instant he slipped it away beneath his robes a kitchen maid appeared from around the corner and stopped dead, her eyes growing wide with shock. She turned about as though to flee, but Faroz stayed her with a command. “What is happening in my Palace?” he demanded fiercely. “Have my people gone mad?”

The maid looked as though she would drop dead from the fear of being spoken to directly by her King. Doing her best to curtsey she stammered out, “The King is missing! Or, rather sir – Majesty! – they all thought you were missing. The alarm has gone out and the guards are tearing the Palace apart! Cook will be so angry at the mess they’ve made in the kitchen…”

“Silence,” he commanded, not roughly but it was enough to send the poor girl past the brink of tears. “Run along back to the kitchen now and tell cook that I shall send him whatever aid he needs in clearing up the mess. Now go.”

Crying now with relief the girl ran past him and disappeared into a small door. Faroz left the passageway and went to find his wife so that he could put an end to this madness.