‘How is Lady Lothíriel? Éomer asked his Master of Horse.
‘I believe she passed the rest of the night without incident, Sire,’ he replied cautiously.
‘I saw you in the beer hall, I believe,’ Éomer stated matter-of-factly.
‘You did, Sire,’ Genting answered looking at him passively.
‘And Trondig… looking quite… different… but actually rather fetching I thought…’ continued Éomer cheerily. Genting gave his king a probing look, which was studiously ignored. ‘How well did you know my cousin Théodred, Genting?’ Éomer continued softly and more seriously.
‘Well enough, Sire,’ came Genting’s guarded response. Éomer merely nodded silently and dressed himself. ‘I loved my cousin as a brother, and I accepted him as he was. I don’t make judgements on private matters – that’s not to say I can encourage it openly, but neither will I ever oppose it.’
He heard Imrahil’s strong voice outside being greeted by a spritely sounding Tuor. Éomer came out of the cabin to find a rather shocked Imrahil who involuntarily found himself looking through the open door into the cabin, visibly relieved to see only Genting emerging after him, having unmistakably just brought Éomer’s change of clothes to him from Minas Tirith. Tuor ordered hot tea and a light breakfast to be brought down to them and asked them both to sit.
‘How is Lothíriel?’ both Imrahil and Éomer asked at the same time.
‘I believe she is still sleeping although I think she will be suffering considerably when she wakes, given just how many drops of Langeoil Ottakar told me he had laced the Sharkrat with….’ Tuor said with a grimace.
Imrahil was unsure of how outraged he could be. ‘Had I known, of course I would have stayed,’ he finally said lamely.
‘I know,’ Tuor reassured him, ‘but it was for the best you were not there. You would only have inflamed her more, especially if you had shown any justifiable anger towards Ottakar. He really had no intention for Lothíriel to take the drink, he was mortified. We’ve had a constant flow of his messengers through the night to give him updates.’
‘Tuor, can you explain to me what happened to you? Does this mean Anardil also…?’ Tuor shook his head in great sadness and pain. ‘Why did you never let Amahlia and me know you were alive.’ Imrahil cut through before Tuor could speak. Imrahil had not slept well and had a tortured air about him.
Tuor became very serious. ‘Yes, I owe you what will be a long explanation. To be honest, I didn’t think that you would recognise me as I was still only a boy when we met in Pelargir during Aragorn’s great victory over the Corsairs in 2980, but, except for the eyes, I always did resemble Amahlia more than Anardil ever did. For Éomer’s sake I should explain some of our background.’ Tuor poured everyone more tea and prepared himself.
‘Firstly, Éomer, as I told you, I am only Amahlia’s half-brother. Although I will continue to call her Amahlia, this was not her birth name. Her true name was Nerdanel, which is not an unusual name in our family given our red hair. On our father’s side we, Amahlia and I, are descended from the daughter of Eärnil II, who married the Prince of Harondor. For centuries, our hold over the land has been tenuous at best, unlike the Princes of Dol Amroth. With so much of Harondor effectively lost, despite the lands still being in our name, we preferred to style ourselves Lord of Pelargir.
I am, however, the son of my father’s mistress, Selshar. Mother was from a Black Númenórean family from Umbar, closely related to Ottakar in fact, and my father had been in love with her before his marriage to Lothíriel’s grandmother. Idril knew that my father loved my mother as she loved Eradan, so there was no enmity between her and my mother at all and we children were brought up as full brothers and sisters surrounded by love.’
‘Eradan? Idril was in love with Eradan?’ Imrahil interrupted in surprise. Tuor look pityingly at his former brother-in-law and sighed with deep regret.
‘There was much Amahlia kept from you, Imrahil. And it was a great burden for her to do so. Idril married Eradan very soon after she left Amahlia under Denethor’s protection and went to live in the North with him and her kin. I only had the great pleasure of meeting him myself very recently when he accompanied Lothíriel to meet with me and Ottakar in secret on the border of Harondor and South Ithilien a few weeks ago. It was a great comfort to me to know Idril had found such happiness with him, despite the injuries she endured over a year later when she was attacked in the Angle where they were living. She only survived due to the healing powers of the Elves, who had come to their aid. Whoever had attacked them was looking for Amahlia, and you, I have been told, already know the reason, but not in its entirety. You both need to understand this now.
I told Éomer last night that Idril had married my father to fulfil a prophecy. There have been a number of prophecies, most kept hidden through the centuries, none more so than the one relating to the Princes of Harondor. Malbeth the Seer made three prophecies, of which only the first two have come to pass. They were made before the fall of Arthedain, the last kingdom of Arnor. His first regarding the last King, Arvedui, came true with all the grief that incurred. The second spoke of the Paths of the Dead, which Aragorn took summoning the Army of the Dead to the Stone of Erech, and thereby saving the Battle of Pelargir and ultimately Minas Tirith as you know. But the third… the third he made after King Arvedui’s drowning, foretold of the reuniting of the two Kingdoms. Malbeth must have had Elven blood in his veins, even the foremost of the elves gave his prophesies the highest level of credence.
This third prophecy foresaw that only through a union between two princely lines, both of Elven descent, could the two kingdoms reunited live in peace. There would be signs preceding the births of the prince of the South and princess of the North. The first would show itself when the royal houses of the north and south were twinned at birth, the second was to be a daughter of the Star of Eluvedan, which shows itself once every two hundred years. Only by this union of Gondor and Arnor, it was said, could the two re-united kingdoms prosper.
Aragorn and my father were born at the same time, on the same day, Aragorn in the old realm of Arnor and my father in the Havens of Anduin in South Gondor, both of the royal houses of Isildur in the North and Anarion in the South. The next alignment of the stars to reveal the rays of Eluvedan was not for another twenty years but on that night, Amahlia’s mother, Idril, a cousin of Aragorn’s and of the royal house, was born. Those in Rivendell believed this was the union the prophecy foretold, the daughter of the Star of Eluvedan with the southern Prince of Gondor, Aragorn’s twin under the stars.
Aragorn was already in the service of Faramir’s grandfather Ecthelion II when Idril was sent to Pelargir to marry my father. Aragorn was known as Thorongil back then. That must have been the first time you met Aragorn too, Imrahil, as Thorongil. I was just seven and Amahlia and Anardil, her twin brother would have been about eleven. I remember you all so clearly, the conquering heroes returning to Pelargir after you and my father under Thorongil’s leadership burned the last big fleet of the Corsairs. And the celebrations you had!’ he said, his face lighting up momentarily at the memory. ‘I recall too the sense of loss we all felt when Thorongil went East instead of returning to Minas Tirith to the honours that awaited him. Denethor’s jealousy of him was extreme even then, and I fear that both you, Imrahil, you and my father were tainted in his eyes at the same time, such was your admiration of Thorongil.
Eight years later, with Umbar still seemingly cowed, Idril decided to return to the North to be reunited with Eradan, with my father’s full consent. He did not expect her to return to him. Anardil was not to go with her to the North. He was the heir and he had to stay with us, but Amahlia did not want to be separated from her mother and decided at the very last minute to accompany her.’
At this point, Tuor stood up and began to pace up and down in front of them. The pain of the memory of what he was about to impart was evident in his bearing, although his voice remained firm and steady.
‘My best friend at the time was Telemir, son of the great Lady Unwin of Pelargir, my father’s favourite cousin and an inspirational woman. Red hair runs strongly in our family, and all four of us children were so blessed. Amahlia and I looked so alike we were more twins than Amahlia and Anardil, but Telemir too reassembled us most closely, except he had brown eyes like mine, unlike the twins. Lothi gets her eyes from them.
I was fourteen, Telemir was only a year younger than me. To distract Anardil from his mother’s sudden absence, my father thought it time to take us on an extended sea voyage, to learn about life on the high seas. Telemir and I were so excited, Anardil too, it was his first voyage to Umbar. My mother came with us.’
Tuor paused a while before continuing. He had rarely told anyone of this part of his history. Not even Lothíriel had been privileged with what he was about to reveal. He continued his tale while Imrahil and Éomer maintained respectful silence throughout.
‘None of us knew until it was too late that my mother’s maid was in the pay of the Takaran the Cruel, the then ruler of Umbar. Ottakar is descended from one of his brothers. Our route had been betrayed by the maid and we were attacked by a far superior force. We were not at war nor training for such and were totally unprepared. Telemir had by far the sharper mind, despite being a year younger. Lothíriel reminds me greatly of him in fact.’ Tuor paused briefly at the memory of his closest friend.
‘While Father and Anardil were both fighting on the top deck, he realised we were lost. He hit me over the head and knocked me out. I only found out later from the few survivors what he did next. He smeared my hair quickly with the black tar we used to paint the bows of the ship and he ran out shouting Father, Father, don’t hurt my Father, knowing he would get killed. And he was. They all were. I don’t know how, the crew who survived were silent on the matter, but Takaran didn’t get his epithet without reason,’ he said bitterly. ‘We survivors were sold into slavery. They wanted it to be known that the Lord of Pelargir and both his sons were dead, so a handful of crew were spared to bear witness.’ Tuor was finding it difficult to continue.
‘My mother was not one of them. When she found out that the maid had betrayed her, she grabbed the sword of the man holding her and had thrust it through the girl’s belly, an act for which my mother herself paid the price, fortunately swiftly - better that than what else they would have done to her,’ he said his face twisting in the pain at the memory.
‘Idril and Amahlia had stopped in secret for a few weeks in Minas Tirith to stay with Lady Unwin on their way to the North. It was there they heard the news of the deaths of her husband and son. Idril was desperate to be with Eradan in her grief, but the prophecy now fell on Amahlia as the only heir of the union. Although at the time Takaran was blamed for the massacre as revenge for the destruction of their fleet eight years earlier, there were those who were not so sure he had been the instigator. They suspected a darker hand behind the attack – a suspicion that was later confirmed.
Idril had been careful to let few know about her journey with Amahlia to the North. Most, including the maid, would have been led to believe that the whole family was to be on the boat. Only Lady Unwin and Denethor knew Idril was in Minas Tirith, however, Takaran’s men would know that neither Idril nor Amahlia had been on the boat and the line of the Prince of Harondor had not yet been broken. Lady Unwin had her reservations, but she agreed with Denethor’s logic that the hand behind the attacks would strike again and their lives were still in grave danger. He persuaded Idril that Amahlia would be safest in Minas Tirith as his ward, a distant relative whom he would keep safe in the seclusion of the Citadel until she became of age. And so my sister Nerdanel became Amahlia. As the enemy would expect Idril to return north with Nerdanel, this was her best chance of protecting her daughter. Denethor had presented a sound strategy.
However, I heard from Lothíriel that you are now aware of his real intentions. Amahlia would inherit all the lands of Harondor at marriage or upon reaching twenty-one. Unlike Lothíriel, I didn’t need Galador to tell me of it. I know it directly from Lady Unwin, to whom Amahlia fled when Denethor tried to rape her. Lady Unwin brought her and her own family straight to Dol Amroth for protection, to her sister, Tanwin’s house, the one who had married one of your cousins, Imrahil.’ Imrahil nodded in recognition.
‘As for me, only those survivors, all loyal to my father, knew that I was Tuor and those who survived the next five years as slaves joined my crew once I was able to free myself, and I became Corinir the pirate. As soon as I was able safely to do so, I sought out Lady Unwin. She I knew I could trust completely and after what her son had done for me, I owed her the truth. I arrived in Dol Amroth only weeks before your marriage to my sister, Imrahil. I even came to your wedding – in disguise of course, dressed as a woman. But Amahlia knew I was there. Lady Unwin had told her I was alive.’
‘You came to Dol Amroth? But how? Surely I should have known. Why was this kept from me? Amahlia told me of her true identity before we married, I should have been entrusted with this,’ Imrahil said wounded.
‘Lady Unwin was wary. It’s not that she didn’t trust you, Imrahil, please be assured of that. She could not have been happier for Amahlia, but she had felt that since the announcement of your marriage to my sister, a spiteful presence had entered your court and we decided that only Amahlia, Lady Unwin and later Gelian should know I was still alive. I came to see Lothíriel soon after she was born, I came always as a woman and I was often a secret visitor at the Palace – her ‘Auntie Elbereth’ as I was called. Even Lothíriel only knew me as a woman and not her uncle until after you and the boys had left for Minas Tirith six years ago, although I am sure she suspected I was not really female…’ he smiled.
‘But well before that, the news from Minas Tirith indicated that Denethor’s governing of it was not encouraging. Lady Unwin decided that now Amahlia was married to a man she trusted could look after her and protect her, she needed to return to Minas Tirith to understand what Denethor was up to. And through her and her astute assessment of the political and military situation, I began to understand that if I was to help Amahlia and then Lothíriel fulfil the prophecy, my only recourse was to remain a pirate, pretending to work for Takaran’s successors and to remain embedded in the heart of Umbar. Gondor needed knowledge and Denethor had no interest in dealing with the threat.’ Tuor’s pacing became more forceful, his annoyance at Denethor’s inaction becoming more pronounced.
‘And then Pallakir started to rise in power. He had always been suspicious of me and, in my early years as my own captain, he became my greatest adversary in Umbar. But he overreached himself with the kidnap and murder of Ottakar’s family and for this he was finally expelled from Umbar.
I had somewhat fortuitously found myself in the position of negotiating Ottakar’s release. This was the beginning of my collaboration with him. I recognised immediately his incredible mind; he is so like Lothíriel. You know, he gave me a letter to take to her after she had killed Pallakir to thank her, and he promised that one day he would grant her one request in payment of that debt.’ Tuor paused as he saw Imrahil shift uneasily.
‘And this was the request she made last night,’ Imrahil said. Tuor nodded.
‘All Lothi and I needed to do was to keep you away from me… Our apologies for your exclusion from the negotiations, Imrahil. You too Éomer, though you were being kept as our secret weapon! But yes, it signalled to him and only to him our final offer – one he fully understood. His advisors were pushing for territory, territory we could not compromise on. Fortunately for us he has a more pressing concern to his south, a concern a certain faction at his court would be only too pleased to ignore,’ Tuor explained.
‘The Astari,’ said Imrahil flatly, ‘you mean the Astari of Sennebar, don’t you?’
‘Yes indeed. I am afraid I do, Imrahil. We should explain to Éomer. To the south of Umbar lies Far Harad, which is ruled from the impregnable fortress of Sennebar by the Astari, a fanatical sect of slavers and assassins, controlled by the Grand Master. Umbar lays claim to the land as overlords, but the sect has been the region’s effective rulers for centuries. Pallakir was rumoured to have been born in the Fortress and trained as an Astari. His death was not taken kindly by the sect. A price has been on my head for a while. I targeted their trade the most, especially their trade in slaves, but as they are officially under the law of Umbar, a full pardon by Prince Ottakar means that if they do try to kill me, he will have the lawful right to destroy them and he can call on all the surrounding region and its tribes to give him aid to do so. And when they find out who I am, believe me, they will try to kill me,’ he said grimly.
‘The risk was that once my true identity became known to those of his advisors who continue to support the Grand Master it would pose a threat to the negotiations. Ottakar last night decided himself that he would take on Sennebar, which in fairness, he must if he is to rule unimpeded. For his part, I think Ottakar wanted to make sure of my commitment to destroying the Astari before deciding his final terms. He knows that he needs our help to defeat them. Confirming me as Tuor, the heir to Harondor, he knows my commitment is total. I fear he also is aware of, and probably has been for far longer than we realised, the nature of the prophecy, Imrahil,’ he said portentously, knowing Imrahil would understand fully that which he wished to convey to him alone. He continued blithely. ‘His choice of terms last night was his way of telling us that he knows, and he will stand with us against Sennebar.’ He sat back down with a flourish and poured more tea.
‘Anyway, Imrahil, there is still so much to discuss, not the least Lothíriel’s inheritance. She has insisted that I take over all her lands and position in Pelargir, despite my evident lack of legitimacy...’ he added cleverly changing the subject away from Éomer’s potentially more awkward probing about the prophecy.
Imrahil looked furious, ‘You cannot accept that,’ he insisted loudly.
‘No, indeed. I agree with you. Her point is, however, that she has no desire to ever live near the sea, we will still have problems with disaffected Haradrim even with Ottakar in power, and she has no desire to have a life of constant fighting. She says, probably rightly, that it needs a man in power, not a female, however good a fighter she is. And she wants to leave Gondor.’
Imrahil exploded, ‘She’s a damn fool. I won’t have it.’
Tuor continued calmly, ‘I, of course, before you get upset, have refused. She is stubborn, as am I, so I have asked Aragorn to mediate on the issue. Much as it pains me to say it, she is more likely to accept his decisions than she would either of us two, especially if she thought we were being too generous to her. You know what she’s like, she wants nothing and when she reaches twenty-one, she will just sign it all away, therefore I thought that while you are still legally in control of her lands, we could come to some arrangement, since she won’t fight for her rights. You know she will follow through with her threat, she has already done this in refusing your sister’s estates in Dol Amroth….’
Éomer rose quickly. The door to Lothíriel’s cabin was opening slowly. ‘Father? Is that you?’ came a fragile voice at the door. A figure dressed only in the skimpiest of nightshirts almost crawled into the living quarters holding on to the sides, blindly fumbling without opening her eyes. ‘I can’t open my eyes, my head is too sore,’ she croaked.
Éomer went over to her to help her find her way to Imrahil. To Éomer’s acute discomfort, she thought he was her father and she clung to him pathetically. Unable to raise her head, she nestled herself onto his broad frame and spoke to his chest. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. You are such a hopeless liar and Tuor has never trusted the boys, nor has he forgiven them, it would have been too much of a strain for you… I have one of the ring seals of Dol Amroth here and as you have no further need of me now that you and the boys are home, you should take it back.’
She fumbled around for Éomer’s hand. Reluctantly he accepted the ring into his grasp. ‘I cannot make the signing. I can barely stand,’ she said swaying uncertainly as Éomer was forced to put his arms around her to steady her. With her head still buried in his chest and her hands clutching his tunic, ‘Can you say farewell to Éowyn for me, Father. I will see her in Cerveth for Gelian’s wedding,’ she managed to utter dismally. ‘I… I… don’t know what to say to King Éomer, I feel I am too much of a disgrace for him to want to see me again. I don’t think I can face him,’ she continued dejectedly. ‘I have to go back to bed, I feel most unwell…’
Her uncle, taking pity on Éomer at that point, came over to peel Lothíriel off him and gently escort her back to her cabin. Imrahil looked enquiringly at Éomer as he handed Imrahil the ring.
‘I do not think there was anything in her behaviour last night which warranted her concern, Imrahil,’ he stated trying to sound bemused by her confession. ‘The most shocking thing she did to my mind was to be able to ride my horse so well; now that was quite a feat. My Master of Horse and my cousin Théodred are the only two others who have ever been able to mount him, never mind ride him like a true éorling. Most impressive!’ he ended, his face almost deadpan. Unconvinced, Imrahil eyed him suspiciously but with an amused glint in his eye.
‘If that is the only thing that shocked you about last night then I feel less concerned to leave Lothíriel in your care – although perhaps I should be concerned for you…’ Imrahil added mischievously.
As soon as Tuor came back, they realised they needed to leave to make it to the signing ceremony and to Éomer’s relief, without any further discussion, they left the ship hastily for their horses.
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Ottakar was most apologetic to Imrahil and Éomer when they arrived together. It seems that he had confessed all to Faramir and Aragorn, who were both relieved to hear that Lothíriel was safe and nothing worse had befallen her than a sore head.
The Treaty was judged fair by the impartial onlookers of Kings Thorin, Bard and Éomer and ratified by King Elessar and Prince Ottakar with Faramir, Prince of Ithilien, Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth and the newly recognised Tuor, Prince of Harondor, as witnesses. It was time for Éomer and Éowyn to leave for Rohan.
Éowyn had asked Éomer if they could perhaps delay by one day and attend the celebratory dinner that evening, but he was adamant that they left. He needed to return, and they would be riding into the night to make up the lost time. He knew that Lothíriel’s part in securing the peace would be attributed to Prince Tuor alone, now that his story was racing through the city, and he did not want to be there to see her achievement being ignored. Finally, with Tuor’s approval, it had been agreed by all that they would encourage her to come to Rohan from his uncle’s burial in Urui until at least the new year, and hopefully beyond. He would have her all to himself for at least five months. In Minas Tirith, she had been too much in demand and the complexities of the politics was frustrating him. He lacked the patience and guile to deal with it effectively.
And he had received alarming reports from Edoras; the Dunlendings were becoming restive. He needed to return.