Loyalty: A Tale in Three Voices by grey_gazania

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Part I, Chapter VIII (Uldor)


FA 463

 

No one spoke until the seven of us had squeezed into our tent, where we found Lame Haná waiting. She didn’t speak, but simply raised a questioning eyebrow.

 

“They will grant us lands,” Károt said, unsurprised by her presence, for she was wise in many matters and Father often sought her advice. “We swore loyalty to them.”

 

“Was that not hasty?”

 

“Swore in words,” Father clarified. “I will not swear in blood for lands that remain unseen.”

 

Lame Haná nodded, but Károt’s lips thinned. He hadn’t wanted to swear at all, not until we’d seen the place that the Elves were willing to give us. Father had convinced him otherwise. The Elves, he’d argued, would be offended if we refused to swear, and a spoken oath would not bind us in the same way a blood-oath would.

 

And then there had been the matter of which brother we would be swearing to. Károt had found Lord Maedhros more appealing; here was a man who could protect his own, he'd said. For my part, I thought Lord Maedhros had been terrifying, but my heart told me that Lord Caranthir was equally dangerous. Where Maedhros’ eyes were flames, Caranthir’s were twin knives, sharp and piercing in a way that troubled me. But Father had not agreed – not that either of us had said our thoughts aloud, not in front of Károt – and so we had sworn to the younger son.

 

We would see what they had in store for our people.

 

***********

 

They called us back to their keep the next day, inviting us to their midday meal. We left my brothers and Károt’s younger sons behind, bringing only Tókhesh and Nâr along. We needed Nâr, but his presence annoyed the Elves. Lord Maedhros hid it better than his brother, but I could still see it in his briefly narrowed eyes. I half-wondered if Nâr was helping us in part because the Elves disliked him. It was clear that the relationship between their peoples was troubled. Why, I didn’t know; the Kházad had always dealt fairly with us, so I assumed the fault rested with the Elves.

 

The meal was foreign – oddly-spiced meat accompanied by a mixture of grains that they called iaw. At least the roast carrots were familiar enough.

 

“We will give Bór’s people a place south of Lothlann, near my own fortress of Himring,” Lord Maedhros said after the meal, spreading a large map over the table. He gestured to an area bordered by mountains to the North and rivers to the Southeast and Southwest. “And Ulfang, your people will be here, east of the river Gelion, on the borders of Thargelion and Ossiriand.”

 

It was Tókhesh who gathered up the nerve to ask the obvious question. “Where are we now?”

 

Lord Caranthir tapped at a small hill. “This is Amon Ereb,” he said. “The Dwarf-Road is there, and your people are camped over here. The Gelion is the river you crossed on your journey.”

 

Tókhesh relayed his answer to us, and then relayed my own question back to the Elven lords.

 

“Who dwells in Ossiriand? Are they friend or foe?”

 

“Friend,” Lord Maedhros said. “Our youngest brothers, Amrod and Amras, dwell there with some of our people. Our allies the Laiquendi also live there. They’re a wandering people who do more hunting than farming, and thus much of the land remains fertile and open. The area between the river Lascar and the river Thalos, where your people have leave to dwell, is almost entirely unsettled. You will also still be near to Nogrod.” He paused and gave Nâr cordial nod. “The Naugrim lords there tell me that your peoples have a strong economic relationship which they do not wish to lose.”

 

Nogrod. That was the Elves’ name for Túmunzahar, and I wondered again at their unwillingness to call anything foreign to them by its proper name. Nâr had told us that the men who had crossed the mountains years before had all adopted the Elves’ language and laws -- even the Elves’ gods. Though neither Lord Maedhros nor Lord Caranthir had actually raised the subject, they seemed to assume that our people would do the same, and it rankled.

 

But my father and Károt were both nodding, looking satisfied. While no ill will lay between Károt’s people and the Kházad, they also had little interest in dealing with one another, so that fact that his people would be towards the North, far from the Kházad cities, didn’t seem to trouble him. And I couldn’t deny that what the Elves were offering sounded more than fair.

 

“We accept,” Károt said.

 

“As do we,” my father added, though the Sindarin words were still heavy in his mouth.

 

Lord Maedhros smiled. “Then we have an alliance,” he said. “You may lead your people to your new homes as soon as you are ready.”

 

It seemed that yesterday’s spoken oaths were sufficient for the Elves. There wouldn’t be any need for us to swear in blood. That was good, as we would have had to break that oath to keep our promises to the Lord of the North, and our own gods did not look kindly on those who broke agreements that had been sealed in blood. For now, we were safe from their wrath.


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