68: Storm Warnings

The next morning brought rain clouds though the rain held off for a time. Brisk winds whipped around the tor and all huddled in cloaks against the unexpected cold.

"Feels more like the end of Gwaeron," Gilhael muttered to Aragorn and Denethor as they made their way to where Thengel’s outdoor throne was set up. Workers had hurried to raise a pavilion over the area to protect the king and his entourage from the worst of the weather.

"It’s a good thing we only have to deal with Guthláf and the Umbari today," Aragorn said as he huddled into his cloak. "It should go very quickly. I doubt Thengel will waste much time on them."

"He will spend as much time as he feels it necessary to show his people that he judges with justice and not with vengeance in his heart," Denethor said gravely. Then he gave them a quick smile. "Though I hope he sees fit to either move the trial inside or postpone it until the weather is more seasonable."

"Certainly the crowds will be less in this weather," Gilhael predicted, but he was proved wrong.

Braving the cold wind and the threat of rain were most of the populace of Edoras. No amount of inclement weather was going to deter them from seeing justice done. Guthláf was already a proven outlaw; his death was assured. Aragorn suspected that it was the Umbari’s trial that most interested them. Thengel had earlier determined that the Haradrim soldiers who accompanied Guthláf and Kadarphazgân should be sent back to Harad, but when he learned that doing so would result in their executions, most likely as sacrifices to Sauron, he changed his mind and sentenced them to servitude for life. They would help rebuild Edoras or Underharrow alongside the other traitors and then be sent to the Westmark where they would be dispersed among the different villages to live out the rest of their lives. Thengel assured them that they were not slaves, but indentured servants who would be paid for their services and be afforded a modicum of freedom as long as they proved themselves cooperative. One or two found ways to kill themselves rather than accept the king’s judgment but the rest appeared grateful that they would not be sent back in disgrace to Harad. Their guards were already teaching them Rohirric, preparing them for their new life.

Thengel made his way to the pavilion with Morwen at his side. All the children except for the baby were there as well, bundled up in winter cloaks. When all were assembled, the two prisoners were brought forth. Thengel had decided against trying them separately for he wanted to get it over and done with. He was heartsore and weary of it all.

Guthláf was tightly bound, as was Kadarphazgân, but only the Umbari was gagged as a precaution. Both men glared balefully at the assembled court. Thengel decided to keep the interrogation short and got directly to the point.

"Who hired you, Guthláf?" he asked brusquely.

The outlaw sneered. "Léodward of Alorharadsdale approached me through various channels."

"Why would he do that?" Thengel demanded. "I am surprised he even knew where to start looking for you."

"Oh, Léodward has had dealings with Gondor for years and through Gondor with other interests further south and east," the man answered. "When your father exiled me, I had few options. There was nothing to the north for me so I made my way into Gondor, figuring I could find work there. I was living in Pelargir when Umbari pirates attacked. I had the misfortune of being taken captive and was eventually sold to Kadarphazgân here." He gave the Umbari a sour look.

Thengel pursed his lips. "Yet, you entered Edoras as a lord and not as this one’s slave," he said.

"Kadarphazgân gave me my freedom a few years later," Guthláf answered with a shrug. "I decided to remain in Umbar. It proved... lucrative. When Léodward’s agents contacted me I went to my former master, suggesting an alliance. He agreed and the rest you know."

"Which brings us to you, Umbari," Thengel said, nodding to the man’s guards to remove his gag. Aragorn had warned against it but Thengel needed answers that only Kadarphazgân could give. He had agreed to keep the questioning short and to the point. He stared at the Black Númenórean, keeping his expression neutral. As a Ranger in Ithilien, he had had dealings with the pirates that plagued the southern fiefdoms of Gondor with their raids. He had no love for them or for those who dabbled in the dark arts. Kadarphazgân’s fate was sealed from the moment he employed his magic against Rohan. Now all Thengel wished to know was who ordered his mother murdered as a sacrifice. He believed Isenbert when the man had told of his distaste for what Guthláf and the Umbari were doing. If Guthláf had had any aversion to the use of magic he apparently had lost it during his time in Umbar.

"Which one of you decided to use my mother for your nefarious deeds?" he asked, keeping his language vague. He had already had Éolind’s death publicly announced, stating only that she who had betrayed Rohan had in turn been betrayed by her cohorts and murdered. Most of the citizenry considered it poetic justice and left it at that.

Guthláf sneered and the Umbari began speaking in an unknown language. Aragorn shifted his stance, stepping forward. "Kibithahê bêthî nê-saphudim!" he barked. "Kibithahê Anadûniyê!"

The Umbari scowled and everyone else stared at Aragorn in surprise, all but Gilhael, who hid a smile.

"You understand what he is saying?" Thengel asked.

Aragorn nodded. "It is the language of Númenor spoken by the common people in daily use and when Ar-Gimilzôr forbade the speaking of the Elvish language it became the primary language among the nobles as well, though the Faithful still spoke Sindarin in secret. It fell out of favor among the Faithful who came with Anárion and Isildur to Gondor, though Westron is heavily influenced by it. In the North, it is still spoken among the Dúnedain. The Black Númenóreans of Umbar also speak it as their native language."

Thengel nodded, then turned his attention back to the prisoners. "I will ask you again, Umbari. Whose decision was it to murder my mother? If you decide not to answer in Westron then I will have Lord Thorongil translate for us and Lord Gilhael will corroborate his translation."

"You assume that I will answer at all," Kadarphazgân said with a scowl.

"I suppose it matters not in the end," Thengel said. "We know your hand did the deed and we know why."

Aragorn, who had not stepped back, now turned to Thengel with a bow. "With your permission, Thengel King, there is one question I would ask the prisoner."

"Ask then," Thengel said.

Aragorn turned to the Umbari. "Whom do you serve, Kadarphazgân of Umbar?"

"Lord Zagarthôr...."

"No, Kadarphazgân," Aragorn said coldly. "Whom do you truly serve?"

For a moment the two men stared at one another and the tension was palpable. Finally the Umbari sneered. "You already know the answer to that, nûph ’n urukthôr!" he spat.

"What does he mean, Lord Thorongil?" Thengel demanded.

Never taking his eyes off the Umbari, Aragorn answered. "I overheard Guthláf call this one Zigûr-bên."

Gilhael sucked in a breath, his eyes widening. "You are sure of this, Cousin?" he asked and Aragorn nodded.

"And?" Thengel asked impatiently.

"The translation would be ‘wizard’s servant’ but Zigûr was the name by which Sauron was known in Númenor," Aragorn answered.

Thengel’s face paled at the implications of Aragorn’s words and his eyes narrowed as he turned to Guthláf. "Sauron! You would have sold Rohan into slavery to that one?"

Guthláf did not answer, his expression stony.

Thengel eyed the outlaw with contempt. "Our laws forbid that nobles found guilty of crimes be executed, but that is something I intend to change. Too long we have sent our noble criminals into exile to have others deal with them as they would, not willing to take responsibility for them ourselves. Léodward I cannot punish as I would like, for his head injury has left him with the mind of a child and he remembers not his crimes against me and Isenbert will spend the rest of his life in servitude to us. You, on the other hand, I will punish along with your... friend here. Necromancy is forbidden in Rohan and the practice of it carries a death sentence regardless of the person’s status. That you consorted with one and allowed such evil purchase in our land also condemns you, Guthláf of Gálmódingsdale."

"You think you’ve won, Thengel son of Fengel," Guthláf said with a cold sneer, "but I tell you true: your victory is only partial. Watch yourself, King of Rohan. There are forces ranged against you of which you have no knowledge. Not all of your enemies hide in the shadows. Some there are who walk under the broad light of day and not all enemies come from the east."

Thengel leaned forward as he gave Guthláf a hard stare. "Thank you for the warning, but I figured that much out for myself." He leaned back. "I will give you this one mercy, Guthláf, though it is more than you deserve. You and the Umbari will be taken outside the walls and executed by beheading. I have been assured by the one who will perform the execution that he will be able to do it with one blow." He then gestured to the guards who hustled the two condemned men away with Guthláf shouting curses down on Thengel’s head.

The Umbari’s eyes were dark with fury and he began shouting in Adûnaic. "Bâr ’n Dulgathâni uphazga! Kâtha Sakalaban akalba ugru-dalad!"

When Aragorn started to translate the Umbari’s words, Thengel stayed him with a brusque gesture. "He has nothing to say that I wish to hear." Aragorn gave Thengel a bow and remained silent, casting a concerned look at Gilhael, who frowned and shook his head.

The rain clouds, which had darkened all during the trial, suddenly opened up into a torrent as the prisoners were led away. Lightning flashed followed by the peal of thunder, drowning out the prisoners’ invectives. Morwen gathered the children and headed back into Meduseld, but Thengel, along with the rest of the court followed after the condemned men, determined to see these executions first hand.

"When they are dead," the king said to Hildebrand who was walking beside him, "arrange for their bodies to be burnt. I would cleanse the evil of their presence in fire. When that is done, place the ashes together into a plain coffer. I will have it sent with Lord Denethor when he returns to Gondor and ask him to drop it into the ocean. I don’t want even their ashes to despoil our land or those of our allies."

Denethor, having heard Thengel’s words as he walked a few steps behind the king, promised to see to the disposition of the ashes personally. "I am due to visit Dol Amroth this summer," he said. "I will arrange with Lord Adrahil to have the ashes taken far out to sea."

"That is well," Thengel said and then he remained silent as they continued out of the city to where the executions would take place. The storm reflected the mood of the spectators and the gloom made it difficult to see what was happening. Several guards were forced to hold the two writhing prisoners down while the executioner, his face covered with a black cloth to hide his identity, made quick use of his axe, the flash of lightening that struck just as the Umbari was beheaded casting an eerie light over the scene. Not a few felt shivers that had nothing to do with the cold and rain.

When it was over, Thengel sighed and nodded in grim satisfaction. Then, wordlessly he turned away and headed back into Edoras while Hildebrand made the necessary arrangements for the disposal of the bodies. They would have to wait until drier weather before burning them, but for now they were placed in a disused guardroom that had suffered enough damage during the battle to be presently unlivable.

When Thengel reached Meduseld, he doffed his cloak and went to stand before the blazing fire to warm himself. Morwen came carrying Théodgiefu and placed their newest daughter in his arms. The king automatically started rocking the baby as she gurgled and squirmed. When his other children joined them with little Théodhild leaning contentedly against him, for the first time in days Thengel felt himself relax in the warmth of his family’s love and he smiled.

****

By mutual consent Aragorn, Gilhael, Denethor and Wídfara made their way to the rooms set aside for the Dúnedain, leaving Thengel alone with his family.

"I’m heartily glad that’s over with," Wídfara said with a relieved sigh as he settled into the one chair the room could boast, accepting a goblet of mead from Aragorn who was acting as host. While he was fully recovered from his wound, his body ached from the cold and the rain and he was noticeably pale. Aragorn had insisted Wídfara take the chair while the other three sat on the beds or, in Denethor’s case, on a pile of furs which he claimed was more comfortable than the cots.

"We all are," Gilhael said as he took an appreciative sip of the honeyed drink. Then he shook his head, looking more sorrowful. "So many needlessly dead: Wulfred, Hardbeorht, Rædwulf, Déorhunta... the list goes on."

"Yet it does not go on forever," Aragorn said solicitously. "We lost good men, but I do not think they would begrudge their deaths knowing that they helped to secure Thengel’s throne for him and for his son."

The others nodded and there was a companionable silence between them as they contemplated the friends and comrades whom they had lost. After a few minutes and before the mood of the men became too maudlin, Wídfara stirred and gave Aragorn a puzzled look.

"Just what was that Umbari shouting about at the end, anyway?" he asked.

"Nothing complementary, I assure you," Aragorn said with a frown. Then he translated the words for both Wídfara and Denethor.

The Gondorian frowned. "They hoped to get a toehold in Rohan, thus surrounding Gondor. It has only been a few years since the Nameless One declared himself openly, and Barad-dûr is now rebuilt. Mount Doom burst into flame just three years ago and now Ithilien is completely deserted save for our Rangers who keep watch. Father thinks that the Enemy will strike soon. I think what has happened here in Rohan was the opening gambit."

"Perhaps," Aragorn conceded, "though there seems to be other forces at work here. The increasing attacks against the Westfold, not only by Dunlendings but by orcs is worrying and I doubt they were inspired by Sauron."

"Agents of his sowing seeds of shadows and unrest?" Gilhael asked.

"Possibly," Aragorn said, "but who those agents could be is anyone’s guess." He shrugged and took a sip of his mead, his eyes not focused on anything in particular as he thought things through. "Guthláf’s admission that Léodward had dealings not only in Gondor but possibly in Harad and Umbar is troubling and I doubt me that he was the only one."

"The people of the Eastfold have always done trading with Gondor," Wídfara said somewhat defensively, "though mostly with the farming communities in Anórien. Under Fengel’s rule trade between our two peoples was discouraged, though it still went on. When Thengel returned, there was more open trading. In fact, in Hærfestmónað the farmers from the Eastfold and Anórien hold a fair at the Mering Stream to celebrate the end of the harvest."

Denethor nodded. "Father was glad that trade between the Eastfold and Anórien increased after Thengel came to Rohan. He hopes that now our alliance will be strengthened once again. Fengel gave lip-service to Eorl’s Oath but we knew that he would never truly honor it. If the Enemy means to strike, Gondor will have need of Rohan."

"Sauron is patient," Aragorn said. "It may be many years before he is ready to wage war against the West. We still have time."

"How can you be so sure?" Denethor asked with some concern.

"Because he does not have Isildur’s Bane," Gilhael answered grimly.

Denethor visibly shuddered at that. Wídfara started to ask for an explanation, but a knock on the door cut him off. Aragorn went and opened it to find one of Thengel’s guards there.

"Lord Thorongil," he said, "Thengel King bids you and these other men to attend him. Gandalf Greyhame has just arrived."

The men all gasped at the news and the guard was nearly bowled over by the rush of bodies as Aragorn and the others quickly made their way to the main hall.

"Mithrandir!" Aragorn cried as he entered the hall and espied the Wizard sitting beside Thengel next to the central fire pit, warming himself.

The Wizard looked up and his face creased into a broad smile as he rose and held out his arms to embrace the young man. "My dear boy, it is good to see you again," he said. "And you too Gilhael, Wídfara. Ah, and the son of Ecthelion as well."

Gilhael and Wídfara greeted the Wizard warmly, though Denethor gave him a perfunctory bow, his expression guarded.

"Gandalf was just telling me about the people of Upbourn," Thengel said.

They looked at the Wizard expectantly as he resumed his seat. The others gathered around. Thengel had sent word to Helm’s Deep soon after taking Edoras informing the people of Upbourn that they were free to return to their homes. In the ensuing weeks, when there was no response to Thengel’s message, many wondered. Hilderic offered to return to Helm’s Deep to see what was happening, but Thengel declined the offer, stating that his nephew was needed more in Edoras. Hilderic and his brother had taken upon themselves the task of maintaining order in Edoras and it was Hilderic, along with some of his own éored who had gone to Dunharrow to escort Morwen and the refugees back home.

"So what happened?" Wídfara asked eagerly. "Why did the people of Upbourn not return to their homes?"

Gandalf gave the young man a fond smile. He could see that Wídfara had suffered gravely from the fighting but was well on the road to full healing. There was a new sense of maturity about the young Rider that had not been present before. His eyes told of experiences both dark and joyful and the Wizard was as eager to hear the lad’s story as Wídfara was to hear his own.

"They did not immediately leave Helm’s Deep out of fear," Gandalf replied and nodded at the quizzical expressions on their faces. "As I was just telling Thengel King, I tried to dissuade the people from exacting revenge on those guards who had tormented them." He sighed, his expression deeply sorrowful. "Unfortunately, I can only persuade, not command, and I am only one, whereas they were many."

"I’m sure you did what you could," Thengel said softly, "though I found the manner of the guards’ deaths disturbing."

Gandalf nodded. "As did I and I made careful note of those among the people who advocated and carried out the executions." He gave Thengel a wry smile. "As soon as we reached Helm’s Deep I had Erkengar separate them out and hold them for trial."

"Erkengar!" Thengel exclaimed. "I thought Heruthain was left in charge of Helm’s Deep?" He cast a questioning glance at his nephew Hilderic, who along with Hildered and their father had joined them.

"So he was," Hilderic said.

"Unfortunately, Heruthain was badly wounded when he took a patrol out against a band of Dunlendings who were harrassing the Westfold," Gandalf explained. "When he was wounded it seems that Erkengar’s estate was close by. Heruthain’s men took him there to recuperate and Erkengar volunteered to return to Helm’s Deep. He told Heruthain that while his legs might not work, his mind was intact. I think Heruthain was grateful for the offer and accepted it with little protest. So when I arrived, Erkengar was in command."

"And Heruthain?" Hilderic asked, his eyes clouded with worry for his second-in-command.

"Fear not!" the Wizard said. "He has fully recovered from his wounds and is back in Helm’s Deep. When you return there to take up your duties as Third Marshal, you will find all is well."

"So the people of Upborn feared to return," Thengel said musingly.

"At first, but Erkengar and Heruthain finally convinced them that hiding in Helm’s Deep would not be healthy." Gandalf gave them a mirthless grin. "Heruthain even threatened to use them as target practice for his men and Erkengar castigated them to the point of shaming them into leaving the stronghold. I volunteered to bring them back."

"They are back in Upborn then?" Aragorn asked. "I'm surprised we did not note their arrival."

"The storm and the trial kept everyone’s attention, I think," Thengel said.

Gandalf nodded. "So I assumed. We came upon the Snowbourn around the time the storm broke. I saw them safely on this side of the river and on their way up Harrowdale. They will be wet and cold but at least tonight they will be sleeping in their own homes."

"And the ones you singled out for trial?" Thengel asked.

"They are still at Helm’s Deep awaiting your pleasure," Gandalf answered.

Thengel nodded, staring at the fire for a moment or two in thought and then sighed. "I had hoped today’s trial would be the last. I had not forgotten Upborn but I was willing to forgive what happened there. Now, though, you have left me no choice but to hold additional trials."

"I regret this happened," Gandalf said sadly, placing a hand on the king’s shoulder. "None of the people of Upborn are completely innocent. They all agreed to the executions, but these few were the ones who carried them out and did so gladly. They were after revenge, not justice. I think the rest of them are too weary to care anymore. They just want to reclaim their lives and move on."

"As do we all," Thengel said. He took a deep breath. "Well, we’ll worry about that later. In the meantime, we have much to celebrate." He gave the Wizard a wide grin. "You have yet to meet my new daughter, who would not be here were it not for Thorongil and the Elves."

Gandalf smiled broadly. "I am looking forward to that, my friend, but even more, I am looking forward to a hot meal and a warm bed. These weary bones have had enough of travel for a time."

Thengel laughed as he stood. "Then, let us go see my new daughter and then afterwards we will see about that bed. I was in no mood for a feast after the trials so tonight you will dine with me and my family and we will trade tales."

"Good, good. I’m looking forward to it," Gandalf said as he followed Thengel from the hall while the others remained behind, talking quietly among themselves.

****

All words and phrases are Adûnaic unless otherwise noted.

Gwaeron: (Sindarin) March/April in the Gregorian calendar.

Kibithahê bêthî nê-saphudim!: ‘Speak words we understand!’

Kibithahê Anadûniyê!: ‘Speak Westron!’. Anadûniyê is constructed [anadûni ‘western’ + -yê ‘tongue, language’] based on the attested word Nimriyê ‘Nimrian [Elvish] tongue, i.e. Quenya’. In contrast ‘Adûnaic’ would most likely be Adúnayê ‘Númenórean tongue’. See ‘Lowdham’s Report on the Adûnaic Language’, Sauron Defeated, HoME IX.

Nûph ’n urukthôr: ‘Fool of a son of an orc’.

Bâr ’n Dulgathâni uphazga!: ‘The Lord of the Black-land will conquer!’.

Kâtha Sakalaban akalba ugru-dalad!: ‘All Middle-earth will fall under shadow!’ [*Sakalaban, literally, ‘Shore-realm’].

Note: phazga and kalba are in the aorist (timeless) tense, usually translated using the present simple ‘conquers’ and ‘falls’, respectively. Adûnaic does not employ a future tense, but it can be implied through the aorist tense. In the context of Kadarphazgân’s diatribe, therefore, it is obvious that Sauron has not yet conquered anything and Middle-earth has not yet fallen under his Shadow, hence the use of the future tense in the translation.

Hærfestmónað: (Rohirric/Anglo-Saxon) Harvest-month, i.e. September. According to Appendix D, Harvestmath was the name used in the Breelands. In the Shire, the month was known as Halimath from OE Háligmónað ‘Holy month’. This was an alternative name for September in Anglo-Saxon culture.