At War in Love. The Shadow over Rhudaur Part IV

Chapter 12. An Honor or a Trap?

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Cameth Brin Tower. November 6, 1347, late morning.
Written by Angmar and Serenoli
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November 6, 1347, mid-morning - The Tower of Cameth Brin

Broggha's cold blue eyes were expressionless as he faced the king, but inside the hillman chieftain seethed. "What does he think I am? A fool!" he thought to himself. "He seeks to be rid of my men and me for the duration of the winter by sending us into the mountains of Angmar! More likely, he prays that we will meet our deaths in the swirling snows of the mountain pass, or at the hands of the orcs! Never would I have thought that the old dottard had retained enough keenness of judgment to devise such a stratagem. Perhaps his daughter, the clever Princess Gimilbeth, would have such acumen but never her elderly sire! The old man would dare play a game of wits with Broggha! He will find that the stakes are far higher than he believes. Still, I will give the old man what he desires - the keys to Dol Hithlaer. Then in the spring when my men and I return with the praises of the king and his people in my ears, I shall take his whole kingdom as my price and his daughter, Tarniel, as my bride!"

Noticing that Belzagar, Lord of Dol Duniath, had risen to his feet, Broggha gave him a quick glance before directing his attention to the king. "What is Taurendur's motive for requesting this nobleman's presence in the north?" Broggha's devious mind wondered. "Perhaps for some reason he wishes to be rid of him, too. However, this is no time to consider the king's reasoning at the present." Broggha would ponder that matter at another time. The hillman chieftain was not aware that Belzagar was also in the employ of the King of Angmar. The slippery Belzagar had been the Northern King's spy master in Rhudaur for years, but because of the danger of his work and the fear that he would be discovered, only one other man - Authon - knew of his activities.

When Broggha spoke, there was no trace of anger in his voice, only a flickering spark of hostility deep in his eyes. "Your Majesty, this is a day which will be recorded as one when history was made. Today, when the darkest peril faces the land of Rhudaur - perhaps the darkest in all of its history - hope is rekindled! Our people have united together to fight a common enemy! A people divided and separated by thought and motive is doomed to extinction, but a people united can never be forced to their knees. We are forging a strong and powerful alliance which will guarantee that in the future, Rhudaur will be victorious against all of its enemies!" At these words, a murmur of approval rose through the council chamber. No words of praise were upon General Nimruzir's downturned lips, though. His brow furrowed, the old general's expression was one of great disapproval.

Broggha waited until the crowd had quieted. "My heart is moved with the greatest feelings of friendship and felicity towards the people of this country." As a show of his feigned emotion, he put his right hand over his chest. "The feelings of my people are the same. They yearn for peace and cooperation between our two peoples. They will look upon this day with joy in their hearts!" Boggha paused, and another cry of approval rose up from the hall.

After taking a sip of wine from his goblet, Broggha went on. "Though some have misjudged us," he let his glance skim over General Nimruzir's scowling face, "you will find that the hillmen and their chief do not make idle promises. Under the King's Banner, I will lead my 500 of my most experienced warriors to Dol Hithlaer. With our blood and steel, we will purchase Dol Hithlaer for the king of Rhudaur!" Broggha paused again and then smiled benevolently. "What do I ask in return? Your Majesty, you do not need to promise me a rich reward. Your friendship will be honor enough for me."

A look of relief upon his face, the king smiled gratefully at Broggha. Broggha nodded to him and then resumed speaking. "An expedition of this size involves planning and cooperation, and many men and animals. Therefore, I will rely upon Lord Belzagar for 100 men, and the lord's leadership, too, if he would be so kind as to provide that." Belzagar looked to Belzagar, who nodded in agreement. "It is well that I have a good man at my back," Broggha, an inscrutable expression upon his face, affirmed. "And Lord Dinen, Seneschal of Imlad Mitheithel, I will call upon him for 100." Broggha smiled graciously.

"Now, my liege, Hillmen are used to traveling light and surviving under harsh conditions. We require little and can endure much. We will travel light, taking our provisions with us on pack horses, thus avoiding the encumbrance of baggage wagons." Broggha paused and then looked up in the king's eyes. "I am a man of few words and am almost finished speaking. Only this do I have to say. Truly I am honored by Your Majesty's trust and confidence. I will not let you down, sire." His face an expression of total deference and gratitude, Broggha resumed his seat to the ovation of the council members.

"How I look forward to cutting out the old fool's heart and offering it upon the dark altar as a tribute to the Lord of Darkness, the One Who Rules In the Place of His Majesty Melkor the Potent," Broggha thought gleefully.

"I take your promise, Lord Broggha, and I will hold you to it." Tarnendur replied sternly. Then, softening his tone, he continued, "If you succeed in your task, you will have my friendship and that of my people, as you ask. And Lord Belzagar, I hope to hear well of your conduct in this as well. You will not find me ungrateful." After a short pause, he said, "Well, if that's all settled, I think we can call an end to this meeting." He had a feeling that perhaps he should thank Broggha again, but deciding against it as too grovelling, he rose and left the room. Behind him he heard the scuffling of feet and chairs as everyone else emulated him.

He found himself being followed by General Nimruzir. His face still had a sullen look that had settled there during Tarnendur's speech, and he now said, "With all due respect, your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider your decision to trust the Hillman," he practically spat out the last word. "He will turn this to his advantage, he will do something to sabotage it, depend upon it."

"General, if you feel that strongly about it, why don't you go with him, and keep an eye on him? I would appreciate it myself, seeing as I can hardly go myself. But I leave it entirely to you. I'm sure Lord Broggha will have no problem."

Nimruzir didn't bother him again that day, though when he was walking away, he murmured something that sounded suspiciously like, "I just might take you up on that offer."

Later, Tarnendur had one more conversation about the Council. Happening to see his son, he asked him, half-seriously, why had he not protested, like last time, at everything Broggha? Daurendil said, rather quietly, "Well, though you do seem to trust him over-much - I can not protest against anything that sends him away from here. Besides, I doubt even he likes orcs or consorts with them. We might as well let the Hillmen die against orc blades since they are of no other use."

Slowly, reluctantly, it seemed, the tide was turning for Broggha at Cameth Brin. It would be a long time, perhaps, before anyone trusted him entirely. But, in the meantime, people were starting to tolerate him, accept him as a necessary evil - and that was all he needed.

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Cameth Brin Tower. November 6, 1347, early afternoon.
Written by Angmar
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While the meeting of the king's council had been in session, Authon, Lord Belzagar's secretary, spent the time waiting in the corridor outside the hall. The meeting had seemed inordinately long to him, and a number of times he had heard strident voices inside. He considered the loud voices normal, simply part of the usual pompous speech making of which men in the public eye were so fond, and nothing about which to be alarmed. When the meeting at last ended, he watched from the other side of the corridor as the council members filed out. He bowed and smiled when appropriate, or gave a brief nod when a bow was not necessary. Courtiers knew their place.

When Lord Belzagar left the chamber, Authon saw a look of agitation under his master's usual bland public smile. The lord could hide his moods from everyone except Authon, who knew him so well. "My lord, overhearing some of the comments, I take it that the meeting was a rather tumultuous one."

"We will discuss it later, Authon," Lord Belzagar put him off as he gave a pleasant, though patronizing, smile to General Nimruzir, who was glaring at all. Nodding and giving the usual expected replies to the other lords who still congregated in the corridor, Lord Belzagar led Authon outside to the stables. The stable boys soon had their mounts waiting for them, and the two men mounted their horses and rode down the steep hillside to the city below.

"My lord, where are we going, if I might ask?" Authon asked as he trotted his horse beside the dark bay stallion of his master.

"The Hare and Thistle, Authon. I could do with a tankard of ale."

Later, seated at their favorite table with tankards of foaming ale before them, the two men acknowledged the greetings from the other patrons. Lord Belzagar was a well known and popular man around Cameth Brin. As Aradiel, one of the barmaids who was in their employ, passed by, Authon raised his chin slightly in greeting. Looking at wenches was an appealing way to idle the time while he waited for Belzagar to tell him about the meeting. He had already gathered that it had not gone well, and he secretly gloated.

"Authon, while I had planned to remain at court until spring, as is my custom, now it appears that I must leave the city, possibly for a few months. For the first time in my life, it seems that I must take up my sword in the king's service and lead into battle a hundred of my kinsmen who serve under my banner. I can take some satisfaction in knowing that they will be incovenienced when they learn that they must leave the pleasures of my warm hall and take to the field in winter. Curse this whole thing," he muttered an oath.

"Our entire operation will be dependent upon you while I am gone. I have trained you well enough so that I am confident that you can take care of matters without my direct supervision." Belzagar blew the froth from the top of the liquid and then put the rim of the tankard to his mouth.

"My lord, I heard some things, but I could scarce believe my own ears. I take it that Broggha has proposed a northern expedition. Unbelievable to think of such a thing in the middle of November! Has he gone mad?"

"Not Broggha. Never Broggha! The man is far too clever for anything like that. It was King Tarnendur himself who came up with this harebrained proposal to retake the Hithaer Pass! When he presented it to Broggha, the scoundrel accepted his challenge, and in doing so, he condemned me! Yes, Authon, I was forced to accept, and now I have committed not only a hundred men, but myself! There was nothing else I could do and keep the trust of the king and preserve my own reputation," Belzagar's words were an angry whisper as he leaned towards Authon.

"My lord, I knew that the old king was in his dotage, but still I had not realized that his faculties had declined so far." Authon's expression was incredulous.

"Authon, keep your voice down! There are ears everywhere! It seems the king is far more clever than you and I gave him credit for being. All of this was nothing more than a ploy to send Broggha to the north, where Tarnendur hopes he will die beneath the blizzards of winter. But why me?" he hissed. "Why does the king wish to be rid of me, along with Broggha? I thought that I held the old man's confidence."

"My lord, perhaps the king suspects something. Possibly before she left on her trip, Princess Gimilbeth had told him about that incriminating message which she found when her falcon brought down one of our mail pigeons. Perhaps the king has only been looking for a opportunity to remove you quietly without risking the scandal which would be involved if he publicly accused you." Aware of the chilling effect that the suggestion would have on his master, Authon looked at him sheepishly. "At least I am safe enough here," he thought. "There would be no possible reason for my name to be connected in any way with the matters contained in the damaging letter."

"Why did he not just take the direct approach and have me murdered? That is what I would have done." Belzagar was astonished at this revelation of his underlings' suspicions. Never before had he intimated that his life could be in danger. "Damn him!" Belzagar thought. "Perhaps he, too, wants me out of the way!"

"I would suppose that His Majesty would consider such an act too far beneath him." Authon looked away. "The old man holds the concept of 'honor' highly."

"So he sends me to the north to exile me, with the hopes that I perish in the winter. How kind and noble of him," Belzagar hissed bitterly.

"Do you wish me to go with you?" Authon asked dutifully, knowing that his employer would decline his offer. Besides Belzager, he was the only one who knew enough to handle the extensive network of spies which Belzagar had built up over the years. Authon had always hoped that some fortuitous event might occur and leave him in control of the spymaster's power. Now perhaps his opportunity had arrived.

"Of course not. You are needed here." Belzagar spat out the words and then looked dourly at his drink.

"My lord, you know that I would be perfectly willing to go, and suffer the same risks and deprivations which you must face," Authon replied with just the right amount of humility in his voice to sound convincing.

"Of course you would, Authon, of course you would!" Belzagar laughed sarcastically. Fraught with malice, his eyes bored into those of the other man. "You are so loyal to me, so very incredibly loyal and steadfast unto death! Now when you have finished your drink, we will return to my home. I must send a courier to my hold in Dol Duniath ordering 100 of my men to be in readiness for my arrival." Belzagar tossed the remainder of his ale down and rose to his feet.