Belegond was an enigma to Elphir, he always had been. He had had the air of a tortured man in private, yet utterly charming in front of all courtiers. His wife Melian, however, had been entirely different.
As a child Elphir had always made a point of showing respect to those in lesser positions, the lower the position, the greater kindness and respect he showed. His mother had been most insistent on such behaviour. He noted the disquiet the servants had around Belegond but even more so around his insufferable wife, who was universally loathed. She was frequently disrespectful even to Elphir’s mother, although careful never to show it in front of Imrahil himself or his grandfather, Prince Adrahil. Elphir felt the malice she exuded, but she was especially cruel to those who were the most defenceless.
Elphir had had his own ‘spies’ at the palace, although he had been too young to have so named them, people he trusted to tell him the truth of what they witnessed around them. One such was Tarquith the Lame, badly deformed and aged before his years by hardship and illness, who but for Adrahil’s generosity would have been begging on the streets. He was allowed to stay in the palace and was fed as one of the servants, seemingly good for nothing but to be the butt of everyone’s ill-humour. Elphir observed that the way those around him at the palace behaved towards Tarquith revealed much about them. It was from Tarquith he learned to hide himself in plain sight as the man was not the fool everyone supposed. He had been found dead outside the city not long before Cirion’s arrival, badly beaten and his throat cut. It was a murder no one was able to solve and seemingly, no one had particularly cared.
And then there was the illegitimate son of one of the scullery maids, Benethrin, who had always been devoted to Elphir and was now his most trusted commander. Benethrin’s mother, Idromiel, had been especially victimised by Melian. She was presumed dead by drowning when Benethrin was only eleven. A witness had sworn he had seen her throw herself from the cliffs above Dol Amroth into the sea, only weeks after Melian had herself died. Benethrin never believed his mother had killed herself, supposedly in grief at the death of her mistress, which was a wholly laughable theory, but he and Elphir had both been too young to prove otherwise.
Elphir’s mind was whirring with possible scenarios. He had never had any interest in playing Faradin, his mind preferred to work in real life games, and growing up in Dol Amroth at a time of such hidden intrigue had offered ample opportunities for him to practice. He had been only four when Belegond and his new wife, Melian, had arrived from Minas Tirith to take such a place of prominence within the household, but he had noticed a shift in the atmosphere, even at that young age and he had played his game of scenarios ever since, always careful to appear incurious, if not a little dull-witted. He found people tended to have unguarded conversations around him if he played stupid, a tactic he had learned from Tarquith.
Unravelling the motivation and the intentions of Hannemor, if he was still alive, was the culmination of years of working in the shadows, while living in the limelight. Faramir’s last letter had been most illuminating. Elphir had now to answer just one question: where were the riches of the Astari hidden? He felt sure this was the ultimate quest of Turallien, to give the mysterious Dwola a real name. Hannemor had failed to deliver to Sennebar the fortune earned in or stolen from Gondor, but had Hannemor double-crossed the Grand Master or Turallien, or perhaps both? Did Hannedriel have a hand in it? Whose loyalties lay with whom when all were ultimately only loyal to their own interests? Perhaps that was not true of Hannemor. He could have been controlled by Hannedriel out of familial habit or by Turallien out of fear.
So… Hannedriel was still alive. That had been good news. There were two damning accusations against her to which both Faramir and Elphir wanted answers. Firstly, her hand in sending two hundred men on the irrational and impossible task of re-taking Osgiliath. There was no other expected outcome for those men but death. At the time, Faramir could only believe that his father had actively wanted him dead, but now he wondered if there had been another influence overshadowing his father’s actions.
That Hannedriel had been behind the addition of Elphir’s name on the list, Elphir had no doubt, and he would have gone to protect or die with his cousin. He had been outside the city with his father protecting the road to Harlond, when Faramir and the men had been called, otherwise they would both have remonstrated forcefully against such action. It was only later when they saw the battalion of men ride over the Pelennor, too late to prevent the oncoming slaughter, that they realised, and both had ridden out with Gandalf to protect their retreat. Too few had survived.
And then there was the contract on Boromir’s children. Payment to the Astari was always made on completion. With Boromir dead, there was no reason for her to keep the contract open, so why had this not been closed? She was known to be too careful with money to waste on an act with no benefit to herself. Lothíriel was the primary target for the Grand Master of the Astari, followed by Tuor and Ottakar, but there was a level of vindictiveness here he felt that was only aimed at Faramir, for whom the loss of his brother’s children would hurt the most. Those who knew of the children’s existence would have wrongly assumed Faramir too would have known of them. What was it Assa had said? ‘You are all in more danger than you realise.’ Did she suspect something more than the vendetta of the Astari against the line of Alatariel? Nothing would hurt Imrahil more than losing his children and his nephew, and Elphir had felt instinctively that the safety of his own children was threatened.
Lady Adriel had been right to query the wealth of Cirion when he had first come to Dol Amroth. Who had funded the riches he had so conspicuously brought with him? His wealth had not come from Belegond alone; he had only taken over Cirion’s expenditure after his arrival. Elphir had already asked Ottakar if his men tasked with unravelling the accounts in Sennebar could focus on uncovering a contract between the Astari and Cirion, and yet they had so far come up with nothing.
So many questions. He had so many questions for the man he was sailing into Umbar to take into his custody. They had had to wait many weeks to receive Lothíriel’s letter. He had spent those weeks in both Dol Amroth and Minas Tirith preparing his scenarios, but the last week in Minas Tirith with Assa and Gallend had been most instructive. Assa still refused to tell even Gallend where she was keeping the old witch prisoner. She was undoubtedly using her Astari contacts, and they might not want their cooperation to be known. It was apparently one of them who had given her the knowledge of the hidden passage to Hannedriel’s cellars, possible under duress, but as Tuor had explained long ago to them all, it was best never to ask, only to trust the information she presented. Tuor had never known her to be wrong.
What information she had deigned to share with Elphir, at Gallend’s insistence, went beyond any of his own surmises, corroborating many but creating an even greater number of scenarios. He felt he was wandering through a maze which grew as he walked through it and behind him was an ever-growing forest of dead ends, but he was still walking towards the final truth, the final destination: Turallien.
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Tuor was preoccupied as he sailed behind Elphir’s ship into Umbar. Assa had given him such a wealth of information his mind was overwhelmed by the implications, much of which he had been strictly instructed not to share with Elphir. He understood Assa’s thinking. Tuor had over a twenty-year history during which he had proved himself to her. Elphir had none. Tuor had long distrusted his sister’s inherited family, so he was himself less inclined to dissuade her. With Gallend, however, he had felt no such qualms and had formed an immediate bond with him, perhaps due to their shared close friendship with Maglor. On top of which, Tuor had an intuition that Assa regarded Gallend very differently from others. He had never known Assa to have any lovers, male or female but she was less dismissive and less combative around Gallend. It made him wonder.
And now Elphir was about to meet Ottakar for the first time. Tuor was somewhat nervous. He had been reassured by Hadán that contrary to appearances, Elphir was not as rigid in his outlook as his reputation implied, nor as stupid. According to Hadán, Gallend too had developed a great respect for Elphir’s abilities, which even Lothíriel had come to appreciate with something akin to awe. Tuor remained unconvinced, but at least open to be persuaded on greater acquaintance. Much would depend on whether it was Elphir the Earnest or Elphir the Intriguing he decided to present to the court of the Prince of Umbar. Ottakar had not thought well of Lothíriel’s brothers, although Amrothos was far too handsome for him to remain ill-disposed towards for long and Erchirion had somewhat redeemed himself in Sennebar, as well as having earned the love of Galador, of whom Ottakar was most fond.
Ottakar himself was looking forward to the encounter with the only brother he had yet to meet, the heir of Dol Amroth.
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Umbar, thought Elphir, Dol Amroth’s greatest enemy for centuries, long before Mordor’s evil renewed its shadow. As he walked off the gangplank, he felt an immediate assault on his senses, a level of urgency and open commercialism which was far more muted in the more refined Dol Amroth. It felt liberating. He had always felt in Pelargir a more acceptable level of permissiveness than in Dol Amroth, which itself was greater than that in Minas Tirith, but here in Umbar, it went far, far deeper, into a darkness which was lacking even in Pelargir. If you could get away with an affair in Pelargir, in Umbar, you could get away with murder.
It was exciting. Intoxicating. Elphir allowed it to penetrate his mind. It was a feeling he needed to understand. He knew his father hated Umbar. Elphir now understood why. His father was too uncomplicated and honest to be able to adapt to Umbar. He doubted Lothíriel had truly understood the city. Her mind worked very differently, which was why she was so very suited to Éomer, one so like their father. Elphir absorbed the pulse of the city around him, it horrified and yet intrigued him. He felt the energy of the city seep through him, he forced his mind to adapt – he was ready, ready to meet Umbar’s new Prince, the city’s very embodiment. He was entering a real life Faradin game, one with real life or death consequences. Elphir had seen battle, and this felt no different albeit this time with an unseen enemy.
As Tuor introduced them, Elphir and Ottakar stood eyeing each other up quite openly, neither inclined to be the first to speak. So, Elphir the Intriguing, thought Tuor to himself. Thank the Valar for that. Ottakar flashed a smile of approval, clapped his hands and invited Elphir to be seated as his manservant arranged places for Elphir and Tuor to sit and be served light refreshments.
‘Lothíriel always complained to me that her brothers never wanted to play Faradin with her and having played against her, I can understand why,’ Ottakar ventured first.
‘I play my own version of Faradin every day, Prince Ottakar, as I am sure do you. Lothíriel plays with numbers in her head and within the rules of the game. I find in real life the game is far more complex. For one thing, there are no rules, and people rarely have the same rationality as numbers, they are far less predictable. In Faradin, you are only playing against one opponent, but we are playing against many, some are enemies; some are not; all with ever changing alliances.’ Ottakar’s eyes glinted in appreciation of one he knew understood his perception of life perfectly.
Elphir continued, ‘It seems that Assa has uncovered a great deal of what we are dealing with, but I suspect she does not yet trust me enough to reveal all her analysis. This is her prerogative. I will, however, share with you, if you are so inclined, all I have witnessed over the years, especially those events relating to Belegond and Cirion. They are both the key to finding this mystery man, Turallien, and I am missing something. I don’t believe that Cirion was working for Pallakir and the Astari, but he was close to them. He was most certainly known to and supported by Belegond, therefore it is most likely Belegond was also connected to Turallien.’
‘Assa has indeed uncovered much which goes beyond the Astari,’ Ottakar agreed. ‘We are now sure that Umbar was the centre of this underground sect she uncovered, but this movement has now buried itself deep. The adherents call themselves the Followers of the Shadow and can be identified as such by the brand of a black hand burnt onto their skin, usually close to the heart. It is a symbol of Sauron as well as Morgoth before him. We have very recently seen several unexplained murders in Umbar, mostly of men but even of two women, all bearing this mark. It looks to me as though someone is eliminating loose ends. Yet I do not feel the sect has been disbanded or destroyed, just displaced and dispersed. We came very close to catching them at one of their foul rituals of human sacrifice months ago, but we were too late and were only able to capture a few of his minions.’ Ottakar sighed with frustration before continuing.
‘Turallien is most certainly one of them, and most likely their leader. The drawing of him I received from Aragorn elicited rather extreme reactions in those we interrogated, either abject fear or absolute worship. It transpires he was prominent in the underworld of Umbar for many years, known by the name Araknan, which means the Deceiver in Haradrim. Only when we received the drawing did we establish that your Turallien and our Araknan were the same man. Our sources have told us that while he often visited Dol Amroth and Minas Tirith, he avoided Pelargir, which is interesting. The rumour is he fears Pelargir because the Dark Lord himself foretold this is where he would meet his end... You have thought to lay a trap for him there? I don’t think he himself will be the one to fall in it.’
‘That confirms the suspicions of Assa and Hadán and this is indeed most interesting. Tell me Prince Ottakar, if you were Hannemor and you knew Turallien feared Pelargir, where would you look to hide the amassed wealth of the Astari taken from Minas Tirith? You accounted for the treasures generated for Sennebar in the slave markets but not what had been stolen from the coffers of Dol Amroth before Belegond was unmasked, nor what they had earned from their contracts in Gondor and Rohan. I have had the chance to understand in detail Belegond’s embezzlement. We only recovered about a half of what he stole, the rest of the hoard does not seem to have made its way to Sennebar. Belegond was never working for the Astari, but he did provide funds for Cirion when he was among us after his arrival. That Father recovered half of what had been embezzled leads me to suspect that either Belegond was keeping some of this for himself, or that the centre of operations was not too far from Dol Amroth and it was never destined for Sennebar. My guess is they expected Dol Amroth to hold out the longest in the coming wars and their escape route, should they need it, was to the North, and not south to the safety of Sennebar. Galador said he didn’t see his uncle again after a few months after the death of the old Condir, and Hannedriel’s daughters say they rarely saw him in Minas Tirith. Did you or any of your men hear of Hannemor much here in Umbar?’
‘His family traded here, most certainly, and had done for many decades but they became far more successful after Gondor’s great victory over Umbar in 2980. Hannestor was well-known in Umbar, his son less so. He was not considered as capable as his father who really ran the business. I have been told Hannemor had a wife and child in Pelargir, but it seems he never saw them. Assuming Hannemor, as I understand you believe, became the new Condir of the Astari in 3004, I find it difficult to believe he could possibly have run that role effectively from Pelargir without coming to your or Assa’s attention, Tuor?’ Ottakar asked uncomprehendingly.
‘Neither Assa nor my men were ever aware of him in Pelargir, unless he went by another identity entirely.’ Tuor added.
‘As did you, Tuor, when you visited Lothíriel in Dol Amroth,’ Elphir stated confidently. ‘And what business is the only acceptable business in Pelargir for a woman to run?’
‘A brothel.’ Tuor nodded in acceptance of Elphir’s assessment. ‘There was one such establishment which had the reputation for procuring underage girls and boys. It was raided by the authorities many times and yet they found nothing…’ The connection dawned on Tuor as he grunted his comprehension. ‘Of course,’ he exclaimed grimly, ‘the deserted mill on the coast in South Ithilien. We never found anything in Pelargir itself because the victims were taken there, probably for Turallien’s sacrifices with the Followers of the Shadow. It is so obvious.’
‘But that is not where you will find the treasure, that, I am sure, is in Pelargir itself,’ said Elphir confidently. ‘Now, Belegond…’
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‘We killed this man a week ago, we believe you know him well. I’d like to understand his history?’ Elphir said showing Belegond the sketch of Turallien.
‘When I see with my own eyes his dead body, I will believe this man is dead. Until then, I have nothing to say to you.’
‘What makes you think he’s not dead?’
‘I hear no rejoicing in the streets, you are all too tense, and you wouldn’t need anything from me.’
‘He brutally tortured and murdered your daughter over a month ago. He, or at least his men, first raped her, cut out her tongue and then skinned her alive. I don’t think she died until he disembowelled her. He showed considerable skill. I doubt it was quick. You do not seem to be too upset…’
‘My daughter? She was always more his child than mine. His and my wife’s.’
‘Were the twins not your children?’ Elphir asked clearly surprised.
‘They might have been. I really don’t know. Melian was an evil bitch, but you know that. How she hated you. She hated you all, your family. Was it you who poisoned her? You had cause, I will give you that. It had to be one of you, even if it was that stupid scullery maid, Idromiel, who served up the poisonous mushrooms in her supper, but I thank you for it. Life became much easier after that, at least for a while…’
‘You believe your wife was murdered? And by one of my family? Are you crazy? My brothers and my sister were all still children. Was it you who pushed Idromiel off the cliff in revenge?’
‘Ha, you know nothing, do you. No, it was not me, unlike the rest of my family, I am no murderer. And if you think the serving wench had been lucky enough to have died from short fall down the cliff face and drowned... You still don’t know who you are dealing with. I was told that she never divulged which one of you had ordered her to do it. She stuck by her story that she had done it herself to protect you all, even under the most extreme torture.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘There is nothing you can do to me, no torture you can devise, that would be worse than what he will do to me if I talk to you.’ He said bitterly nodding his head towards the drawing of Turallien.
‘Well, this can be arranged. He has already killed Amedlan, we believe he has also killed both your brother and your sister, so that only leaves you and he is looking for you. You were fortunate Lothíriel hid you here or he would have already found you. Before I left Dol Amroth, we had news that the Lothring Estate had been attacked. So, Belegond, you are free to go. You are right, there is no punishment we could devise that would be more deserved than what he will do to you. I wonder if you will make it out of this palace, never mind to Pelargir….’
Belegond’s face had visibly paled.
‘I am not my father, Belegond. Do not make that mistake. Even if I had you followed, I would allow you to be taken by him and I would call it justice. But if you help us, I will at least let you live…’
‘When you bring me in front of the Prince of Dol Amroth, I will tell you what I know but not before,’ Belegond snapped defiantly.