Leídan Aznawar of Khand

Neida changed herself into simple dress, a tunic over it tied together by a belt and swept a cloak over her shoulders. She wanted to go into town and make a visit to the market, and expressed that she didn’t want Leídan to come with her for protection. He didn’t agree with it, but let his stubborn sister go. He knew he could not always be at her side, and she could also defend herself when in trouble. She took her knife and short sword with her. Happy she left the inn and went off toward the market. Leídan made use of the time to take a long bath. He was dirty of the road and hated it to be dirty. Bathed and clothed again, he felt much better. For the rest of the midday he spent sitting on his bed in the light of the sun repairing clothes with needle and thread. It was a dull work, but some things he rather didn’t want his sister to do. Dressed in cool silken garb he looked like a lost prince. The heat in Khandur required cool and light materials. Wool and velvet were for the cold nights. The Azumenúkhad had all sorts of materials they made with care and love. Wool and cotton was the same for them as velvet, silk and brocade, they saw no special values in materials. Though the neighbouring tribes attacked them regularly just for these riches.

At the end of the midday, Neida came back with delicious fruits from the market. She brought two melons, strawberries and blueberries and bread with her. She bought as well a few nice materials where she wanted to make new dresses from, and cotton for underclothes. She was excellent with needle, thread and scissor. She remained at her the guest chamber; meanwhile Leídan went off to the kitchen and washed the strawberries. They would have bread with strawberries for the evening meal. After dinner on their chamber, Leídan went to the main room to sit there for a while, have a beer and perhaps talk to someone, if the occasion allowed it. Over his clothes, he wore his travel cloak; as well, he had a shagur wrapped around his head and neck to cover his hair. He was in a public place, not private. He felt more comfortable with one. One of the two men he had been when arriving at this inn sat also in the main chamber, and looked up again when Leídan searched a table for himself. He slid behind one, knowing he was being watched, but why?

Most of the tables were occupied now by the local townsmen and –women resting after a day full of work. Leídan bowed his head and drank slowly from his ale, letting the draught roll over his tongue before swallowing it. It was not bad ale, but he had tasted better in the past. The torches at the walls spread neither a cosy nor an eerie light around. The smoke from cigars and pipes hang heavy in the main chamber. He sat with his back to a wall, out of principle. You never knew if people had good or bad intensions. He didn’t have to watch his back this way. He saw strangers also between the local folk, travellers from the long road, like him. They came from countries far away, lands he didn’t know, cultures he had never known off. Everyone just kept to himself, keeping an eye on the other around him or her. No darkness laid yet over this place, but evil creatures like Orcs were not far off. Some of the guests were rough, the others were delicate. Leídan found it difficult to determine where they exact came from than otherwise north, south, and east or west. He enjoyed his ale, while he studied careful the local folk of Tir Ethraid. They had both Gondorian as Umbarians ancestors, determined from their facial features.

Sudden the man, who had been watching his since his arrival, stood next of him with two fresh ales in his hand. “Can I offer one to you?” It would be rude to say no, so Leídan motioned the man to sit down. He accepted the ale, but let it stand in front of him. He had his own ale still. “You are a particular man, sir. Conscious of the surroundings, like me. I must inquire. Are you one of us?” Leídan raised an eyebrow, but didn’t reply directly. Instead he took a sip from his ale and placed the mug softly back on the table, holding it. “Who are you, if I may ask?” said Leídan quiet. The man moved the hood of his cape slight backwards. “I am Celegur.” Leídan nodded slowly, studying the blue eyes of the man for treachery, but saw none. “I am Leídan called,” he answered. “And if I were a member of your people, I would have known it.” He leaned back in his chair and his eyes wandered restless through the chamber, before coming back to the man Celegur. The question was strange, as well why he just sat with him. Celegur was no name from the south, but from the north, or from the nearby lands here. Etymology was a hobby of Leídan, to find out where names came from. Then the man spoke as well an old tongue from the ancient lands, one that was related to the Azumenúkhad tribal language. But Celegur seemed not to be from the southeast at all. Leídan had a head full of questions sudden, but asked none of them. Time would tell him all he needed to know.

“Sir, you carry a name from the ancient times, that is remarkable,” said Celegur with a glistering in his eyes. A bit annoyed Leídan nodded and looked away. “Yes, I know. What is your interest, sir? Otherwise I retire to my room.” Celegur smiled. “Forgive my impudence, I have my reasons.” He nodded with his head, and said no more. Leídan stood up and took his ale with him, ignoring the pull of beer Celegur had given him. The man was no friend or foe, but he trusted a little people outside the family. The strange meeting played for a while in his head. He used the key to enter the room he and Neida shared, and noticed that his sister was asleep already. He concluded that the hour was later than he thought. He locked the room, controlled the window if it was closed as well, and then retired self to bed. He closed his eyes and ventured off to dreamland.

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The town was a discovery on itself. There were a library and a hospital and an endless diversity of shops. What you liked, you could get it here on the crossroad of north and south. Neida went again now off to the shops and buying herself small gifts, things meant for women. Leídan instead went toward the library, to pay a visit and see what was stored there at scripts and books. Despite what perhaps was expected from a man of the desert, he could read and write, but never told that to anyone. It was a normal thing among the Azumenúkhad to learn at young age, but outside the tribe reading and writing was rare ability in the desert. Therefore, he caused a sensation for the local visitors in the library, as well for the librarians themselves too. Men in sehada and shagur never visited the library. Leídan ignored the looks thrown at him, as well the small whispers in the local language he didn’t understand. He went toward the chart department and settled there at a table, studying through the map lying there around. The script was familiar and the names of places, cities and lands were easily to translate. So much, it didn’t differ from the ancient language of the tribe. According the historians of the Azumenúkhad about six thousand years had passed since they had come from Hildorawar in the east. And then were there the tales of the really old times, times of just darkness and stars, times of that was no sun yet, risen in the east. How his people really came by all these tales and mysteries was a mystery itself. And why would a man like Celegur come to him, and tell him they were somehow brothers?

Leídan sat bowed over the chart, studying a land called Rohan and the great of wood of Fangorn above. Woods lay as well at the foot of the Ered Harmal where his homelands were. The land was a rich of forests, all carrying such strange names that he knew no translation for them. However, the names said him nothing, nor would the lands laying there. He knew at least on the map where they were now, and he knew also how they had travelled to this place of the crossroad. On a piece of paper, he made some notes for home, and the historians there. They would be enormous interested in these materials. He took no maps with him. Perhaps he was able to buy one in some store somewhere in this fortified city. When he had his information and was ready to leave the department, he ran almost into Celegur who came in at that moment. Perplexed Leídan apologised first not recognising the man, but when the man said something back, he recognised the voice and stopped instantly, looking behind. What would the man be doing here, or was he being shadowed?

Leídan returned to the inn, knowing he had to consult his sister, if she had seen strange things. But Neida was not back when he came in their room and closed the door behind him. Impatient he waited till noon. Merry she came back with some packs and with blushes on her cheeks, Neida said hello to him and asked how his morning had been. Leídan shook his head and inquired just if she had seen strange people following her where she went. But surprised she shook her head. Then Leídan told her what happened last night in the main chamber downstairs and this morning in the library. By the time, he had finished his story Neida didn’t smile anymore and on her face lay a frown. “This Celegur must be mad. I guess it would be better to leave tomorrow in the early hours and go back home,” she observed. Leídan agreed. “I am not sure though if he would follow us.” “Then we would know in the desert, he won’t come far without knowing the right routes there. I guess you want to take the mountain route, not by the rivers?” Leídan nodded. “Along the Ered Dúath and the Ered Caradhram. It is dangerous I know, but we know the routes there, strangers do not.” Neida smiled and nodded.

As decided, they left in the early morning with their Azumehda the city of Tir Ethraid. The gifts Neida bought were divided between them both to share the load. An Azumeh could carry much, but both rode their animals as well. They travelled the same way back toward the ruins where they had stayed more two weeks earlier. After the ruins they left the road toward the east following the range of of hilltops of the Emyn Laer to the east, holding the course to the point where the Ered Duath and the Ered Caradhram would meet. Bar Malduin and Imlad Carnen lay on that route. Leídan and Neida followed that route, alone and in anonymity, protected by their shagur and their sehadur clothing.