Gallend had only been too impatient to give those present the full story of all he had learned. His description of how the Astari were bred within the Fortress or taken young from their native lands he owed to Hadán, for whom the memories of his past were too painful to recount himself. He did not want to remember his time as a ‘Slave’, the name by which all those allowed to survive to childhood were called until they were selected by trial of mortal combat to attain the title ‘Astari’. None could become an Astari without taking the life of another. Of these survivors only the most talented and trusted became recognised as ‘Masters’, who reported directly to the Grand Master’s right-hand man.
The Slaves were trained not to trust anyone, especially their fellow Astari. Hadán had told Gallend of numerous attempts to test his loyalty, of missions designed to seemingly offer an Astari his chance of freedom, only to uncover the deception too late. The training was so brutal and hateful that many were desperate to escape and fell into the trap. He had himself had to kill those he had known well who had failed to recognise they were being played.
Only Master Astari would be sent out alone to insinuate themselves into positions of trust in influential situations outside of Sennebar. Hadán had just been promoted to Master for his mission to infiltrate Tuor’s crew, allowing him finally to leave the confines of Sennebar without being part of a cell. Such cells would typically comprise a minimum of three Astari, usually four from different cohorts, to keep each Astari in check and were usually sent out on specific short-term missions of assassination.
Tuor, and Lady Unwin before him, had long suspected that the centre of the Astari network was not Sennebar itself but Umbar, with bases also in Pelargir and Minas Tirith. What Gallend had uncovered had therefore come as a shock to Tuor when they met in Minas Tirith after the Battle of the Brown Lands and interrogated the captured Astari together. Tuor realised he had significantly underestimated the reach of the Astari network. Gallend explained in detail his suspicion that the Astari had been working behind the scenes in Rohan through Galbrand far longer than even he had initially recognised as such. Gallend was only now beginning to understand the implications of the connection.
There were those Astari, like Hadán, who specialised in the art of killing, and those who specialised in the field of finance. The latter, according to Hadán, had become increasingly powerful under a man named Bregolin, the old Condir, the title of the chief administrator of the Astari finances, who was thought to have been murdered several years before Hadán joined Tuor’s pirate crew. It had been rumoured that Pallakir himself had been involved in that murder as he felt threatened by Bregolin’s influence over the Astari network, but it had only been a rumour. While Pallakir had been disliked by many of the Astari, Bregolin had inspired a level of loathing and fear that eclipsed all hatred of Pallakir, and Hadán had reported a palpable lightening of the oppressiveness of Sennebar once Bregolin’s presence had been removed.
Lothíriel’s mind was racing. ‘This man, Bregolin. I assume he was replaced by another?’ she asked Hadán.
‘He was. You have to understand, Lothíriel. I was trained as an assassin, not an administrator. We hardly had anything to do with other assassins and almost never with the Condir himself. Our dealings with his minions were purely transactional. I did, however, get the impression from the man Gallend had captured when I met with him in Minas Tirith last week that the new Condir was considered weak and was possibly not the one controlling the network,’ he replied.
‘Tuor’s intelligence concurred with that assessment. Someone else was manipulating the network through the Condir and that person was not necessarily the Grand Master himself…’ Gallend interjected.
‘We must find this man, this Condir. If we don’t identify him before we go to Sennebar and finish our business with Pallando, he or whoever controls him will only take over the network and we will continue to have a thorn in our side,’ she said emphatically.
‘There is much we still do not understand, Lothíriel,’ Maglor told her. ‘But I believe that we here can find some of the answers.’
Amrothos was still confused. ‘How did you come to uncover the contracts on Boromir’s children? This you still have not explained.’
‘No, indeed,’ Gallend replied. ‘Under interrogation, the Astari we captured in Elbrond proved only too willing to betray his master and revealed that a particular type of bird was used by the Grand Master to carry messages from the Fortress to his henchmen in Minas Tirith. If you remember, Radagast rather reluctantly accompanied Mithrandir to Minas Tirith with us after the battle in the Brown Lands. He surprisingly quickly found out from his ‘friends’ which dwelling these unusual birds had been frequenting. When we raided the house, it proved to be the master Astari safehouse, a veritable treasure trove of records. The turncoat offered to transcribe all the encrypted records into Sindarin on condition of more lenient treatment, which was granted. It has taken him days, but as soon as we read the contract naming Boromir’s children, we went to Faramir, who called for Elphir.
We rode here immediately after speaking with Elphir. Elphir himself has gone straight to Dol Amroth to see if he could discover where you have hidden the children. I think he will be most relieved when he finds them safe under guard with his own. They will be better protected left there under the guise of Lady Adriel’s wards, if that is acceptable to you, my Lady?’ Gallend finished, turning to Lady Adriel.
‘As the bastard daughter of a noble man and noble woman myself, I am more than happy to keep them as my wards permanently, as I would have done if they had indeed been Imrahil’s grandchildren. I was, as it happens, also very fond of Boromir when he was a young man…’ she said with a decidedly suggestive glint in her eye.
Lothíriel interrupted, ‘But you said that the Astari worked in groups of no less than three but Elphir only killed two. Surely that left at least one who could have tracked where Elphir took the children? They must have been tracked to Dol Amroth,’ she said, her voice rising in concern.
‘They were,’ Maglor stated nodding. ‘I killed him. I just never told you. You were already upset enough about the obvious distress of the children and the man was clearly intent on killing someone in the room you were all in, I took matters into my own hands. I realised as soon as Hadán showed me the unencrypted text that you hadn’t been the target as I had assumed, but the children. You were most convincing by the way, Amrothos. I commend you. I really thought the children were yours. Lothíriel is not the only one of the family with a future on the stage,’ he grimaced.
‘But we failed to find the one Astari it is imperative for us to get hold of,’ Maglor continued, ‘the current Condir. There was evidence that he had been living in the safehouse until shortly before our raid. Radagast was quite sure that a messenger bird had been sent from the safehouse to Sennebar after the staff had been broken. He helpfully agreed to go straight to Sennebar to ensure that no further messages will make their way to the Fortress and any from the Fortress will be followed. But, Galador,’ he intoned in a voice which inspired fear in his enemies and fortitude in his friends, ‘it is time that your friends understood the extent of your courage as I have long appreciated.’
Galador had frozen in shock at being addressed by Maglor. Instinctively Amrothos glared at Lothíriel, warning her not to protect Galador as she always did. To his surprise therefore, he watched her take Galador’s hand in hers, her head bowed, making no attempt to shield him. The most observant of those present had already noticed Galador’s sudden quietness during Gallend’s explanation of the workings of the Astari. He had been staring vacantly ahead almost in a daze throughout. Lothíriel squeezed his hand.
‘Galador,’ Maglor said gently but firmly, his tone compelling Galador to find his voice, ‘we need to hear the truth. Your family is involved in this in ways we must now understand and there is only you who can help us,’
And yet still Galador sat mute. Taking pity on a man she had long admired, Lady Adriel came to his aid.
‘If I may, I believe I can provide some background which might prove helpful for those not from Gondor. My late husband knew your grandfather, Hannestor.’ Galador had shuddered at the mention of his grandfather and looked sick. Lothíriel tightened her grasp on his hand.
‘He made the family fortune by trading with Umbar, although my husband always said that he could only have made his money through the illegal trade of slaves. It was widely rumoured that he had an ‘arrangement’ with Sennebar. Through his wealth, he was able to marry into the aristocracy and that union produced three children: Hannemor, Hannedriel, and your father, Belegond. We all know that Hannedriel married well and became powerful through her influence over Denethor and that this influence was enough to recommend Belegond to Imrahil’s father, Prince Adrahil, as his Steward. One would expect of the eldest son, with such elevated connections to have had more of an impact on Gondorian society but he did not… Hannemor and the business on which the family’s wealth had been built seemed to evaporate about the time that Hannestor himself disappeared, although Hannemor reappeared for a while in Umbar and then again in Pelargir. Everyone felt that it had had something to do with Sennebar. It was only through your aunt Hannedriel’s influence that this was not more widely acknowledged and spoken of… and those who did so openly had noticeably short lifespans…’
As Maglor’s eyes bore down on Galador, not with malice but with such an intensity that seeped into Galador willing him to accept his fate. Gaining a steely resolve from deep within, Galador mastered himself to answer.
‘I believe your suspicions are right, my Lady. I have spent long enough with Lothíriel understanding financial and trade affairs to understand that my family’s wealth cannot have been made through legitimate trade alone. We both went through Dol Amroth’s accounts together when she was recovering from her ordeal.’ He gave a hollow laugh, ‘We did it ‘for fun’ to distract her from her pain, to get her mind thinking of anything, anything but what she had just endured, only the more we looked at the figures, the less they made sense. Lothíriel, as we all know, is brilliant with numbers and accounts, but my family also has a great talent with financial affairs, and in the case of my father, how to manipulate the accounts to his own advantage.
It took me years to discover where my father kept his hidden records, the ones in which he kept track of his illicit dealings and I stole them. I stole them in the chaos of the night Vandan died. It took me three months to work through them in secret. It looked more like my father was not just embezzling from Dol Amroth’s treasury, but seemed intent on destroying the economy, not just creaming off enough for him and our family. Once I had fully understood the nature of them, I took them to Prince Imrahil as proof of his treachery. While I was too late to prevent Erchirion from marrying my bitch of a sister, which saved my father’s neck, we were at least able to locate where my father had secreted much of the gold he had stolen, which kept us from total ruin. Not all of it, mind. This had been going on for fifteen years, although most seriously in the years Cirion was at court.’
‘Thank you, Galador,’ said Maglor determined not to be side-tracked from the information he was seeking. ‘How did your grandfather die, Galador? It’s important.’ Maglor asked again, firmly but kindly.
‘No,’ Galador said adamantly, ‘it is not, it is not relevant. Do I think that my family was closely connected to the Astari? Without question I now think that. Before today I just knew they were involved in something illicit, secretive and most certainly corrupt.’
Maglor patiently tried again, ‘But something changed in the family after that visit to Minas Tirith when Lothíriel was five and beat Denethor at Faradin. Something happened then. Your grandfather died around that time I believe, when Imrahil and his family had been virtually ordered to Minas Tirith.’ Galador went deathly white. ‘You saw who killed him?’ Maglor suggested. Galador shook his head, his eyes glazed over in a trance of the horror of what he had seen.
‘I cannot tell of this…’ he whimpered.
‘In what year did Bregolin, the old Condir die or at least went missing, Hadán?’ Maglor asked him.
‘3004, most certainly. Over the summer,’ came the assured reply.
‘When did your grandfather, Hannestor go missing? Although he is most certainly dead.’ Maglor persisted with Galador.
Most present were surprised when Lothíriel spoke next. ‘What happened, Gally? What really happened that day when you came to find me with blood all over you? I found the clothes you hid. Mother cannot have doubted you. From that day, you were always with me. It was Mother, wasn’t it, who allowed that? I realised much much later that something terrible had happened to you. I, of all people, cannot ask you to recount this since my mind refuses to remember what happened to me, but I do remember that Mother loved you as one of us from that day, and she trusted you with me more than anyone. I just don’t remember why…I would like to remember, for Mother’s sake, if you could tell me.’
Tears streaked down Galador’s face, but he nodded and composed himself. ‘I heard him plotting with another man to kill you. He was giving this man instructions on how to get into the Amrothian residence in Minas Tirith, to find your room,’ Galador started.
‘Who was it you heard, Galador?’ she asked him softly.
‘My grandfather. He was a brute. I knew I had to stop that man from getting the instructions to the killer. I didn’t know it was the Astari, only that this man was going to instruct someone to kill you. I knew he would have to pass through the secret back gate from the garden to the alleyway behind the house. All I had to do was to drop down from where I had been hiding in the stable loft and I would get there ahead of him.
Amedlan, ha, it’s the only time she’d ever done something useful. Amedlan had stolen a jewelled dagger from the Citadel. I think she was intending to let it find its way into Lothíriel’s room when we were back in Dol Amroth or a servant she didn’t like and wanted to get sacked, only I had seen her do it and sneaked it off her before she realised. I was intending to hide it in the loft until I could get it back safely, that’s why I was there.’ Galador paused, he was breathing heavily. Lothíriel was gripping his hand visibly distressed. He had never told her this.
‘And I..,’ he continued, shaking with emotion, ‘… I just stuck it in him, with as much force as I could, time and time again. He barely even screamed. There were just the two of us in the ally. No one else saw. I just left him there.’ He was shaking from the memory.
‘You were only ten,’ marvelled Amrothos, unable to hide the tone of admiration from his voice.
‘Indeed,’ Galador quipped, ‘murderer at ten, it seems to run in the family…’
‘That wasn’t murder, Galador,’ said Lothíriel with intense feeling. ‘If it was, then I am just as guilty as you, many more times over.’
‘What happened then, Galador? What happened to Hannestor? You see, I believe the man you killed was the old Condir,’ Maglor explained.
‘What!’ Hadán exclaimed loudly. He looked at Galador in astonished admiration. ‘You killed that bastard? That man was pure evil. He tortured young boys for pleasure. You have no idea what Sennebar was like when he was in power. Whispers of the tortures he would inflict on those unfortunates stalked all our nightmares. Those of us Slaves who failed our training or disappointed our Masters were sent to him. There were those in Sennebar who thought it was a rumour to encourage us Slaves to perform to our very best. Unfortunately, I know better. He was real and he was every bit the monster he was portrayed to be.’ Hadán had spoken emotionlessly, his face betraying nothing. He turned to Galador.
‘Galador, if I had come across him, I would have skewered him through his intestines, cut off his dick and thrust it into his mouth to stop his screaming.’
‘Did you meet him, Hadán?’ asked Gallend engrossed.
‘No,’ came the answer dripping with unconcealed hate now. ‘But almost. He had left Sennebar a short time before I was called for. I was sent, together with another of my cohort, to finish off those of his victims he’d left alive and dispose of them. I was fifteen. They were all under ten years old. Killing them was merciful. We are all in your debt….’ Hadán ignored the horrified faces of those around him. He stood up and walked outside. A shocked Genting hesitated, glanced at Lothíriel, who imperceptibly nodded, and he went outside to join him.
‘What happened next, Gally?’ Lothíriel asked, unsure of herself. ‘I remember you coming to find me. You were dressed in clean servant’s clothes, but you still had a blood on your face and hands, which I washed off you and then I think you went to see Mother and this lady came, I remember her clearly, and we sailed to Pelargir together. I just can’t remember what Mother did, if she was with us…’
‘Yes, we went to Pelargir, Lothi. You had just taken to leaving the Amrothian residence over the wall to Osimir’s garden, where Frea is now staying and I would try to follow you to make sure you were safe. We both had a change of clothes hidden in their garden shed. I changed into those clothes and went immediately to warn you that a man was trying to kill you. You took me straight to Amahlia and I told her – not that I had killed anyone, just that I had overheard a man saying he would kill you. I didn’t think Amahlia would believe me, but she did without any hesitation and Lothi, don’t you remember, you told her we needed to fetch Auntie Elbereth?’ he said.
‘I don’t remember, Gally,’ Lothíriel confessed. ‘I remember nothing of my mother. I remember only the beautiful lady who came. I should explain, Auntie Elbereth was my name for Tuor. Mother must have sent for him, only he wasn’t there. She will have sent word to Lady Unwin. She was always our lifeline in Minas Tirith.’
Galador continued his story more fluidly now the burden of his secret had been shared. ‘And this lady came, only she was dressed as a man. She was so kind. I spoke to her alone. I told her everything, I felt I could trust her. She promised me she would not tell anyone else, not you, Lothi, nor your mother what I had done. She told me I had done the right thing and she would take care of everything. She told me it wasn’t my fault I had such an evil family, that I must never blame myself for being what I am,’ he blurted out rapidly. ‘Amahlia sent a message to my aunt telling her that I had been with her and Lothi in Harlond the whole morning and she had decided to take me with them to Pelargir for a few days. My family never cared where I was. We left that afternoon. When we came back days later, grandfather was gone. I never knew what had happened to him, even Hannedriel didn’t seem to know. No mention was ever made of the body in the alleyway. No one in the family spoke about grandfather again. It was as though he had never existed.’
‘Can you describe the lady who came, the other Auntie?’ Maglor asked both Galador and Lothíriel with some urgency.
‘If you find me ink and paper I can draw her for you,’ Lothíriel answered. ‘I realise now of course, that she was, unusually for one of Tuor’s spies, definitely a woman.’
As Frea stood to go to fetch ink and paper from where she knew Yollander stored them, Galador shifted in his seat. ‘I had the feeling that my father was overwhelmed with relief. Uncle Hannemor took over the family business, although I never saw him after that. Well, only once, looking relieved and happy about two months later, so I knew grandfather had to be dead, and I was glad. Something was still wrong though. There was a deep hatred coming from my family against yours. I realised that Lothi was still in danger and that she would still not be safe from them. The best I could do for her would be to stay with them, pretend I knew nothing and to protect her from them as much as I could. And I am sorry, Lothi, I am so sorry, that I didn’t protect you better.’
Lothíriel wrapped her arms around her oldest and best friend and held him tightly to her. Amrothos, visibly shaken hearing the truth about Galador, all played out in front of his own wilfully ignorant eyes, walked around the table to the pair and knelt beside Galador extending his hand to him.
‘Forgive me,’ he asked with genuine humility, ‘I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my selfish behaviour. I saw how Mother treated you with greater affection from that visit, not only how you wouldn’t leave Lothi alone. I didn’t understand. I felt threatened and jealous of her attention to you. I treated you appallingly after that. I am sorry.’
Maglor stood up and said solemnly ‘Yes, you almost never left her out of your sight, for which we are all more grateful than we can ever express. You protected us all, Galador, more than you will ever know, and saved more innocents than any of us. I am convinced that the man you killed was indeed the old Condir.’
Frea arrived back with a quill, ink and paper for Lothíriel who quickly drew her memory of the dark-haired lady who had come. Galador nodded, ‘Yes that’s her. I remember her being as beautiful. Only Amahlia herself was as perfect as that lady was.
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Seeing that Delwine was nearest to the door to the garden Maglor asked him to find Hadán and Genting and bring them back. Gallend was studying Lothíriel’s drawing intently. The girl, and she seemed to him to be very young, was unusual in her beauty. He felt as though he had seen her somewhere before, but his usually magnificent memory just could not bring her into focus. With some reluctance he allowed Maglor to retrieve the drawing from him as Hadán entered, followed by Delwine and Genting. His face studiously composed in a neutral expression, Hadán went straight to Maglor as though he was expecting either orders or further interrogation.
‘Do you know this woman?’ Maglor asked impassively, showing him the portrait.
‘No,’ came the emphatic reply, although those who knew him well felt they saw a flicker of emotion.
Lothíriel came up to him and laid a hand on his chest and looked up at him imploringly.
He shuddered involuntarily at her touch and swallowed hard, while remaining seemingly unmoved.
‘He knows you do, Hadán,’ she said with certainty.
‘No, he does not, because I do not,’ he answered with a trace of malevolence, looking deeply into her eyes, which closed in response.
Lothíriel stayed with her hand on his chest, with her eyes still shut, but focusing intensely, deep within herself.
‘Who do you think she might be?’ she persisted before looking up at him again, her eyes beginning to glow from a bright light welling up from within. Involuntarily Hadán stepped back a little from her, but her hand remained on his chest.
‘Don’t,’ he said fiercely, breathing deeply as though in pain, ‘you do not want to know this.’
No one dared move such was the power that enveloped the pair and projected throughout the room. Only Maglor overcame the general paralysis and moved closer to them as the bright light coursed through them both.
Éomer and Gallend could see the acute anguish in Lothíriel’s face as she confronted Hadán’s demons. She was shaking badly as the light faded and they both came to themselves. Hadán’s face was strained but still impassive. He had only survived Sennebar by such extreme control over his emotions.
Lothíriel however was struggling with whatever insight she had gained. Maglor came behind her and enfolded her in his arms. She calmed in his embrace and regained control of herself. She spoke to Maglor in Quenya.
‘You knew,’ she said accusatorially.
‘I suspected but did not know until now. It explains much that was hidden from me. We need to understand who she is, Lothíriel… and what she is,’ he replied firmly, looking Hadán full in the face with a mixture of respect and concern.
She reached out for Hadán. Maglor released her. She took his cheek in her hand and pulled his head down to rest on her forehead.
‘We will end this. It must be us, together we can do this,’ she said in Quenya, knowing he understood that language. ‘Never doubt my love for you. I don’t care what you have been, or what you are. We are the same, you and I – a curse, yes and yet also a gift. I will explain to them only what they need to know. Will you trust me?’ He nodded and went to sit in her seat beside Galador, who squirmed uncomfortably at his proximity.
‘He didn’t lie,’ she began. ‘He doesn’t know the woman in the drawing, however it is possible that he knew her as a child, if it is the same person. She would have been almost twelve when he saw her last and people change considerably. But this woman bears a strong resemblance to the child’s mother whom he did know.’
Maglor spoke, ‘We need to know about her, Hadán, we need to understand her connection with Sennebar. It is very important.’ Hadán looked up alarmed.
‘Is she in danger?’
‘Yes,’ came the immediate response. Hadán tensed.
‘Where is she?’
‘We believe she may have been taken by the Astari,’ replied Maglor.
‘Then she is already dead, at least for her sake I hope she is,’ he said suddenly shuddering, his self-control beginning to waver.
Lothíriel came to rest her hands on his shoulders. ‘I will tell you of her, Maglor. It is too painful a memory for him as was yours…’ Maglor acquiesced. Although no one else understood how she knew the story, they did not question what she told them. They had all seen the preternatural connection between these two, who were both so changed from the visitors who had stayed on in Edoras only the last summer.
‘If it is the same girl, her name in Sennebar where she was born, was Assa. Pallassa in full.’ Maglor nodded his head as the information corroborated what he had suspected. ‘Hadán knew her well. Her mother had looked out for him when he was a child, and she was as a sister to him. Love was the most dangerous of all emotions in Sennebar, nevertheless he cared for her and her mother deeply, being careful never to let that show to others.
Assa’s mother was one of the more valued ‘breeders’ as all the women in Sennebar are called. She was the ‘grand prize’, a true pure blooded Black Númenórean, and that meant that Assa’s fate as a girl was not to be sold off in the slave markets at six years of age but to be kept in Sennebar until she reached puberty and used as a breeder herself.
Before Assa became of age, her mother tried to escape from Sennebar with her to save her daughter from the same fate as herself, not realising the extent of the power of the magic protecting the Fortress. She failed and they were caught. Assa’s mother was killed in her desperation to protect her daughter and Assa was thus able to elude the guards. She seemingly just disappeared. Where she went was deep into the Fortress.
She did something all had thought impossible; she had found a way out, a way untouched by the enchantments. At great risk, she came to Hadán, needing a long rope and some tools only he could steal for her. His aunt, his ‘mother’ as she had become, still lived; he would have condemned her to an agonising death had he tried to escape with Assa. Assa did not dare tell him her hiding place but when he came to meet her with what she had asked, she wanted to show him at least how he could escape when his time came. She led him to a section of the Fortress which was out of bounds on pain of death to all but the Grand Master, so he could find the way out and follow her when he could.
Only they were betrayed. Hadán’s mother had had another son. And it was this son who betrayed them such is the utter perversion of Sennebar and the upbringing forced on these children to make them obedient and vicious.’
Lothíriel stopped to collect herself. She was finding the telling of the tale too painful. She had seen what he had seen, and she would hide from those gathered listening the true horror of what happened. This they did not need to know.
‘The party hunting them had made too much noise and Assa had a talent for concealment unmatched by any in Sennebar. She managed to escape unseen, but Hadán had stayed to deflect the guards from finding her and he had been caught where he should not have been. The guards had both his mother and his brother with them, his brother screaming that Hadán had been helping Assa. Hadán’s mother had tried to reason with the guards - her son was too young to know what he was saying, if Hadán had been with Assa, he was only there to have tried to stop her and bring her to justice… She did everything she could to protect him, but the guards needed someone to pay for Assa’s escape. They were desperate to have someone else to blame, or it would have been them who paid for their failure. Before Hadán could say anything incriminating, to protect her son, his mother confessed to helping Assa. Knowing that act immediately sealed her fate irrespective of what he himself did next, Hadán allowed this lie to be told. He knew his mother had chosen this death rather than endure her life without the one she loved the most, and she was shortly freed of it.’ Lothíriel struggled to say, understating the truth of what had happened to Hadán’s beloved mother.
‘Hadán never saw Assa again. But he hoped that she had somehow survived and had made it to Pelargir or to Minas Tirith, as they had often dreamed together. Years later, when he was with Tuor and staying onshore briefly, he knew someone had been in his room. They had left a single flower in a jar, a calanthum. Only weeks before she died Assa’s mother had somehow gained possession of a calanthum flower in Sennebar and had brought it down to show to the children how beautiful a thing it was. Hadán and Assa had both loved it and it had become his nickname for her. No one else alive knew this. He found another one tucked into his healing sack when he stayed in Minas Tirith at Lord Delantir’s before he came with me to Edoras the first time. He never saw her, but he always wondered and hoped that it was her.’ She ended the story, not having left her position resting her hands on Hadán’s shoulders. He brought his own up to hers, his face a blank, and gave them a squeeze.
‘Why are you interested in her, Maglor?’ Lothíriel asked on Hadán’s behalf.
‘Assa is a legend amongst those of Tuor’s men who have had the privilege of knowing her, but we knew nothing of her origin until now. Ottakar knows her best. It seems that after her escape she made her way first to Umbar, fending for herself on the streets. He noticed her. He had given her food and shown her kindness, and she has looked out for him ever since. And then one day, she turned up on Tuor’s ship and ordered him to put to sail, to rescue Ottakar.’ Maglor laughed at the audacity. ‘He was tempted to have her thrown off, but she told him that she had proof Pallakir was one of the Astari, that he had been ordered by the Grand Master to kidnap Ottakar and his family, to murder the women and bring Ottakar to him in Sennebar for execution. She would give him something she had stolen which was of immense value to the Grand Master and could be traded for Ottakar, which turned out to be the book of Codes of the Astari, not that she told Tuor exactly what it was…
Tuor knew who Ottakar was, of course, but her claims seemed so outlandish. He sent men to the palace to verify her story and they soon found out that Ottakar, his mother and sisters had taken a pleasure boat to sail around the peninsula and were expected to return by evening. By the time his men came back, she had taken Tuor to a man, her prisoner, one of the administrators of the Astari and he confirmed that Pallakir intended to take Ottakar to Sennebar but that he could most certainly persuade Pallakir to exchange Ottakar for the book. Had I been there myself, I would have sacrificed Ottakar to keep that book. My apologies, Lothíriel. Fortunately for Ottakar, Tuor did not understand its worth,’ Maglor confessed.
‘Tuor sailed directly to the mouth of the estuary of Sennebar and waited for Pallakir’s ship and under threat of attack, he negotiated Ottakar’s return in exchange for the book of Codes, which had indeed had a profound effect on Pallakir when Assa’s captured administrator confirmed to him it was the original book. The book and Ottakar passed each other in small boats. Tuor only truly understood the importance of the book when the captured administrator told Tuor to kill him rather than send him back with the book. Once Ottakar and the book had reached the opposing ships, it was a question of whether Tuor or Pallakir would then risk a full-scale attack on each other. It seemed that Pallakir was not prepared to chance battle and lose the book of Codes.
Assa was waiting for Ottakar on Tuor’s ship. Assa does not hug, she seems emotionless but in the long years Tuor has known her, he told me he has never seen her more emotional than that moment of Ottakar’s safe return. Let’s not forget that Ottakar had also witnessed the murders of his mother and sisters, he was never going to forgive the Astari. But he also turned in secret against those of his own family whom he was sure had been in league with Pallakir and the Grand Master, despite their pretence of horror at what had happened to him. He had, after all, the more senior claim to the Princedom once his childless great-uncle died. Tuor knows what it is like to lose those closest to you at that age. He knew how to comfort him. They became close allies and trusted friends from that moment.
As you know, Pallakir was summarily banished from Umbar, and Tuor and Ottakar formed an alliance that was crucial to Gondor’s survival. But Assa, Assa just disappeared. Only to reappear, always with the best intelligence, always accurate. We learned never to doubt what she told us. Almost everything Tuor and I have been able to uncover about their operation has come from her. Tuor allowed her safe passage on his ships whenever she wanted, but try as he did, she would never work for him, although you have confirmed today, Galador, that she did, as I have long suspected, sometimes work with Lady Unwin.
She was the reason Tuor and Imrahil left Pelargir so abruptly in Hithui, and I from Minas Tirith. The Astari Gallend had captured in Elbrond told me that his fellow Astari had begun to suspect a woman had been undermining their operations, one who had been working closely with Lady Unwin in Pelargir and Minas Tirith. He let slip they had set a trap for her in Umbar. It could only have meant Assa. Around the same time Tuor had heard a similar rumour and left immediately with Imrahil for Umbar to save her.
Having seen Assa fight, I was sure she had had Astari training, but of her past, who she was, we knew nothing. But there was always something about her that was unique, special, something we didn’t understand, something important. Something I now do. The blood of Númenor runs very strongly in her. Thank you, Hadán,’ he said graciously.
Maglor addressed himself to Éomer, ‘I must leave for Minas Tirith now. There is more for me to explain to you all, but it will have to wait, I must get this information to Aragorn and Tuor immediately. If I may impose on your authority, Éomer, with my apologies.’ Éomer nodded his assent.
‘Amrothos, you need to leave for Dol Amroth today and ensure the safety of Elphir and the children, his children as well as Boromir’s. I believe he and his family are in almost as much danger as Lothíriel, and Boromir’s children.’
Amrothos paled. ‘I will leave now. Can you tell me why?’
‘I believe Elphir has already understood more of the nature of the threat than he has admitted even to your father. He can explain all to you as soon as you tell him this story. Please go to him as soon as you are ready,’ Maglor ordered. Amrothos bowed his head in compliance, looking meaningfully at Frea for her understanding, which was swift in coming.
‘Galador, I am sorry but the Mearas will not take you and I will ride through the day and night to get to Minas Tirith. Hadán will escort you to Minas Tirith first thing tomorrow. You will be safe with him.’ Galador blanched visibly.
‘I will accompany him, Frea quickly intervened, ‘no argument cousins,’ she added defiantly as both Éomer and Éowyn moved to object. ‘I will, however, leave Rian with you, Éowyn, if you don’t mind? I would rather she was not in Minas Tirith until this is over, that way I can be freer to help behind the scenes in any way I can.’
Maglor quickly assented before continuing.
‘Gallend, you have important business in Elbrond and I know Lothíriel is set on being there for you. I would appreciate it if you and Genting would escort her back to Minas Tirith as soon as it’s done, if Éomer, you can spare me your Master of Horse? He is one of the few the Mearas will tolerate to look after them and I have great need of him.’ Éomer bowed his head in acceptance, having first glanced to assess Genting’s reaction.
‘Éowyn, ladies, my apologies to leave you so abruptly. Éomer, would you walk with me to Maela?’