Emissary by Uvatha the Horseman

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The Pillar

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Chapter 2 – The Pillar

Haven of Umbar, TA 2951

Gûlon was putting the drawer holding the scrap of parchment back in its slot.

Tar-Castamir looked off in the distance. "We need this alliance; we can't defend ourselves against Gondor alone. Yet I hesitate. Sauron is dangerous, and not easy to trust."

"Sauron is dangerous, but not to us. He's always been a friend to Umbar, we were allies in the Second Age," said the High Priest.

Tar-Castamir nodded. "I need to summon the Council of Captains. May I send a few of your servants to round them up? And borrow a place to meet?"

"You can use the Library," said the High Priest.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Urzahil went up the narrow stairs. After the dimness of the vault, the sunlight was blinding.

"Urzahil, go fetch Súrion. I think he's teaching class right now, but it doesn't matter, pull him out," said the High Priest.

Súrion was a Loremaster who'd spent years studying Sauron's activities in the Second Age. He knew, better than anyone else, how Sauron would behave in various situations. Urzahil went to the Seminary building and found Súrion standing at the slate board, lecturing a roomful of acolytes about the Second Age.

"The High Priest requests your presence in the Library."

Súrion dismissed the class and put down his chalk. While they walked, Urzahil told him what happened. He said nothing, but let out a low whistle.

"So the letter is real? That's something I'd like to see!"

When he returned to the Library with Súrion, almost the entire Council of Captains had assembled around one of the long library tables. The only men missing were Tar-Orodreth, who was away at sea, and Tar-Marös, who was tending to his estates in the provinces.

Súrion approached the table and stood a respectful distance away, his hands tucked into his sleeves.

Now that he'd returned with Súrion, Urzahil had no good reason to linger. He moved a short distance away and studied the spines of books. Daily Ritual Practices of the Cult of Melkor. Not his area of interest. He leafed through the pages and listened to the conversation of the Council of Captains.

Tar-Castamir pulled out the folded parchment and smoothed it on the table.

"This letter was signed by Sauron himself. We've just authenticated the handwriting, it's his. Now we have to decide what to do about it."

"In the past when he offered his friendship, he killed the leader and destroyed the city," said Tar-Númendur.

"You're referring to the destruction of Númenor," said Tar-Castamir.

"And Eregion before that. And probably others I don't know about," said Tar-Númendur.

Súrion raised a hand. "Sauron burned Eregion because he felt Celebrimbor used him for his knowledge, then cast him aside. And in Númenor, Ar-Pharazôn took Sauron prisoner and publically humiliated him."

Urzahil had playacted that scene once, back in school. He still remembered the taste of dirt in his mouth, and the mocking laughter of his classmates. At that moment, he'd been just about ready to destroy Númenor himself.

"As far as I can tell, he's only dangerous when he feels threatened. We don't threaten him," said Súrion.

"How can we sign a treaty with someone whose word isn't good? Can we trust him?" Tar-Miruvor asked Súrion.

"To speak the truth? To keep his word? The Elves call him Sauron the Deceiver. He's a habitual liar who uses false names, denies his past, and conceals his true intentions.

"But can you trust him to keep the alliance? In the Second Age, he kept every alliance he made with Umbar, Harad, and Khand."

"Why does he want this alliance?"

"He feels threatened by Gondor. Same as us," said Tar-Adûmir.

"It's as simple as that? He wants an alliance because we share a common enemy?" Tar-Castamir got to his feet. "My Lords of the Council, it's time to cast stones."

A servant was sent to find a Go set. He returned carrying a crosshatched board with two bowls of stones balanced on it. Tar-Castamir emptied the bowls on the table and mixed the black and white stones together.

"White is in favor of the alliance with Mordor, black is against." He found a pen case and shook out the pens.

"Tar-Miruvor?" Tar-Castamir's held the leather cylinder where Tar-Miruvor could reach it.

Tar-Miruvor reached to the center of the table and took a handful of stones from the pile. He selected one, and shielding it with his hand, dropped it into the case. He returned the other stones to the pile.

"Tar-Adûmir, you're next." Tar-Adûmir concealed a stone in his hand and dropped it in the case.

Tar-Castamir went last, after everyone else on the Council had voted, then emptied the stones onto the table, eight white and two black.

"It's decided. Umbar agrees to the alliance," said Tar-Castamir.

-o-o-o-o-o-

dong Dong dong Dong dong Dong

Urzahil was crossing the Temple grounds and looked up, startled. Normally, the Temple bell only rang to summon priests to the sanctuary, but as far as he knew, the next ceremony wasn't until tomorrow morning.

dong Dong dong Dong dong Dong

People were pouring out of the buildings. In the tower above their heads, the bell was still tolling. Urzahil cut through the garden and rounded the corner of the Library. The square in front of the Temple was filled with people, and more were spilling in from every avenue and side street.

Tar-Castamir stood at the top of the temple steps. "People of Umbar, I have an announcement to make." There was a murmur from the crowd, like the hiss of foam sliding up the beach. "Something's happened, quite possibly the most important event in all our lifetimes."

A bird scolded in the distance and someone coughed, but there was no other sound.

Tar-Castamir held up the crumpled letter, decorated with red and black designs. Red tapes dangled from the broken seal.

"Sauron has declared himself in Mordor, and seeks our friendship. He wishes an alliance with Umbar."

There was a collective gasp, and then, "Huzzah, huzzah!" The square rang with their voices. The cry reflected from the faces of buildings and the inside of the city wall.

"Throw down the Pillar!" shouted a voice at the far side of the square.

Urzahil ground his teeth. The Pillar, a humiliating reminder of the Occupation symbolizing everything that made him feel beaten, belittled, or afraid.

"Throw down the Pillar, throw down the Pillar!" The cry was taken up all over the square. Urzahil started yelling it himself.

The crowd surged up the main road toward the gate in the outer wall, and climbed the steep bluff above the city crowned by the Pillar. The crystal globe on top caught the rays of the sun, dazzling bright.

Corsairs and shopkeepers attacked the Pillar with wooden planks, rocks, and their bare hands. They scarred the stone, but did little damage.

A team of stonemasons shouldered them aside. They scored a circle around the base of the Pillar, and then used a hammer and chisel to cut a wedge in one side. Anchor cables were attached as high as they could be lifted by ladder and pole. The master stonemason arranged men along the length of the cables, and told them to wait for his signal.

He cleared the slope between the two cables of all spectators. After the crowd had backed away, the master mason gave the signal, and a huge man swung a sledge which sent a crack through the stone. The teams on the cables pulled. The wedge opened wider. The Pillar seemed to stand firm, then it trembled slightly. All at once it tipped and came down with a horrible tearing noise as the stones fell apart and broke.

A roar arose from the crowd, shouting and cheering and applause all at once. The cloud of stone dust from the devastation reached them, white and gritty. Urzahil accidently inhaled it and started coughing. He squeezed his eyes shut, but not soon enough. He had to blink away the grit.

The wind picked up. The stone dust cleared away, revealing a line of stone discs scattered down the slope. Some had huge chips knocked out of them, some were cracked in half. The crystal globe had smashed into knife-like fragments sharp enough to slice through boot leather. The last reminder of Gondor's occupation was gone.