Lords and Lordship by WendWriter

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Chapter 4

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The other Maiar gathered around Rautanor and Artíre until they were completely encircled. Looking nervously from one Maia to another, Rautanor decided that it would be wiser to permit Artíre to do the talking than to make any move of his own. By siding with the Watcher, he might win Artíre's trust and persuade him to protect him long enough to allow him to escape if he had to.

"Your welcome is warm," Artíre remarked, looking around him.

"Have you not been sent by Morgoth to spy on me, Artíre?" asked Narcawë.

"I have been told to look at how things are being done in Rhûn," replied the Watcher. "I do not like my arrival here being called 'spying,' as though I had crept in and disguised myself in some way. No! I came openly and brought a friend. Is this the act of a spy?"

"I do not understand why you would bring one with whom you were at war with for so long," Narcawë said coldly. "Or was I wrong to think that Rautanor is the servant of Sauron? Were you and Sauron not at odds with each other for ages? How is it that you and Rautanor the Plotter are now as thick as thieves?"

Rautanor started at this use of his name. While he was aware that he was called 'the Plotter,' no-one ever said it to his face. Narcawë had grown bold indeed. Surely he was going to bind and diminish them!

"I was unaware of this development," said Artíre, with a laugh. "Surely I have much more in common with you than with this fellow here." He indicated Rautanor. "Was he not with Sauron making plans to bind me when you arrived? You saved me from their plots and for that I am grateful. I never thanked you properly, Narcawë."

Narcawë considered this for a moment. "Then why are you here?" he asked. "And with Rautanor?"

"I told you," Artíre replied. "We were ordered by Morgoth to see how you fare here in Rhûn, and how the temple of Moko is being maintained."

"I do not like the idea that I am being watched," Narcawë said, his tone soured by his suspicion of the two Maiar.

"Are we not friends?" asked Artíre, with genuine surprise in his voice.

"I find it hard to be friends with people who speak against me!" the Defiant One declared.

"Who told you I said anything against you?" Artíre asked, utterly shocked.

Rautanor shifted uncomfortably. His misdeed had come back to bite him. He remembered what he had said to Narcawë when Artíre left Rhûn.

 

Narcawë came back inside the temple after speaking to Artíre. Sauron was still there with the other Maiar. They were angry with him for speaking arrogantly to Sauron, but said nothing till their master bade them.

"Artíre has returned to Angband," he said. "I know not when or if he will return."

"Do you intend to leave too?" asked Sauron, clearly hoping that the answer would be 'Yes.'

"No," replied Narcawë. "I will stay here awhile, and see how you do things here in Rhûn. Morgoth bade me learn from you, Sauron, and to report back when I have learned enough."

 

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After that, Rautanor had made up his mind to rid them of the Defiant One as soon as they could, and spoke to Sauron about it the first chance he got. "What shall we do about Narcawë?" he asked.

"The Defiant One?" asked Sauron, his voice dripping amusement. "Why, nothing."

"But he means to make trouble for us!" Rautanor pleaded. Was Sauron joking with him? One could never be certain of what Sauron was thinking.

"Narcawë craves lordship, Rautanor," Sauron explained. "I have a plan to rid us of him, but it is not one that involves confronting him. I propose nothing less than handing this realm over to him and leaving him to oversee it."

"But he will destroy everything we have worked for!" wailed Rautanor. "Narcawë loathes responsibility. He wants the position and honour due to a lord, but is unwilling to actually work for it. His arrogance alone is proof of that. Everyone else, even our enemy Artíre, has respect for you, Sauron. Narcawë has none because he has never actually tried to take charge of anything. He simply goes around complaining and making enough noise to get the attention he craves. His defiance is not a sign of allegiance to anyone - he never truly sided with Morgoth, he simply dislikes the idea that he has to answer to anyone for anything he does. I am convinced of this!"

"And I agree," said Sauron, with a wolfish grin.

Rautanor feared that grin. It was a sure sign that trouble was coming. "What do you mean, my lord?" he asked nervously. He did not like not knowing what his master was thinking. While he nominally trusted him, he knew what Sauron was capable of.

"I mean that I will ask Narcawë to take charge of the work here in Rhûn, and to keep order for us until I return. I intend to go back to Angband to report to our master myself, for I know not what Artíre is telling him about us. Narcawë will accept at once, and without question. He will be unable to resist the opportunity to exercise power over others. I know he will ruin what we have been working for here. In fact, I am counting on it!"

Rautanor grinned hugely. "That is a master-stroke, my lord!" he cried. He went at once to find Narcawë, who was standing in front of the statue of Moko. "Sauron is planning to go back to Angband to discuss important matters with Morgoth. He has asked me to tell you to take charge here, Narcawë. We believe you have the qualities of a great leader, and we know that Rhûn will be safe in your hands."

Narcawë stepped back in surprise. "Why would you offer me this position?" he asked. "How can I be certain it is not a trick?"

"Because we will have to answer to Lord Morgoth for this," Rautanor replied, "and since he trusted you to come out here to see for yourself what we are doing, we believe he will approve of our decision. That is, unless you would rather not take on the responsibility."

"I am perfectly capable of taking on the responsibility!" shouted Narcawë. "Did Morgoth not send me here?"

"I was only asking..." Rautanor faltered. The Defiant One had taken the bait.

"You asked nothing," Narcawë stated. "I will bear this burden, which has clearly become too heavy for you. Why would Sauron wish to leave in such haste?"

"We know not where Artíre is, Narcawë. He is either skulking in fear around the city, or has gone to Morgoth to complain about us. We intend to counter him and his vicious lies," Rautanor told him, his rage barely concealed. If the Watcher did anything to sunder him and his master from Morgoth's goodwill, he would personally pursue him until the whole of Eä came to an end. "Besides, you know not what he is saying about you."

"What do you mean?" Narcawë asked, his tone suspicious.

"What did you discuss when you were outside with him?" Rautanor asked. "He may well use that against you at the court of Morgoth."

Narcawë stood still, thinking about the implications of what Rautanor was saying. "I told him how to protect himself against binding spells," he said. "I also told him to speak well of you at the court of Lord Melkor. Yes, I told him to speak well of you so that there would be no dissension in the ranks."

"Is that all you told him, Narcawë?" Rautanor pressed. "You know how he dislikes taking sides. You know how much he enjoys turning people against each other. Did you tell him anything that might do any of us harm?"

Narcawë said nothing.

"I sincerely hope you did not," said Rautanor, and walked away.

---

Rautanor baulked. Narcawë had taught Artíre how to protect himself. Surely he had taught him the binding spell as well. Oh, with that morsel of information, he could bring Artíre down forever! Was this not proof that the Watcher had bound Sauron to his wolf-form to aid Huan at Tol-in-Guarhoth? Only Sauron and his Maiar knew that spell. The fact that Artíre knew it too was proof, at the very least, that Narcawë had taught him the spell. At the moment, Rautanor needed the Watcher. What could he do?

It occurred to him to confess his attempt to turn Narcawë against Artíre. The honesty might effect a reconciliation between them all for a little while. Then he would work out a way to accomplish their mission. "'Twas I, Artíre. I am sorry, but I honestly thought you were going back to make trouble for us," he said, genuine contrition in his voice. He was sorry for the mess that had resulted from his sniping at Artíre. It had got him into trouble too.

Every voice was stilled as the assembled Maiar digested this information.

"Indeed you did," spat Narcawë. "And now, Rautanor, since you are in such a penitent mood, have you any other confessions to make?"

Rautanor went silent. He knew he had just made a huge miscalculation. Narcawë was unlikely to forgive him, and admitting to anything else would simply get him into more trouble. Worse than that, he had given Artíre ammunition to continue their feud. What could he do?

Narcawë moved closer, and the atmosphere in the temple grew increasingly tense as the other Maiar waited for the explosion of rage that was sure to follow.