Children of the North: A Middle Earth Story (Book 5)

Chapter 6: Friends From Distant Lands

"Morwen, I don't think you understand the importance of this council," Nimloth said, trying to hold her sister down as she braided her hair. "Emissaries from Rhûn haven't come west of the Fallen Gate in years! Short of the King himself, I can't think of a more significant entourage."

Morwen twirled her knife absently, staring past, rather than directly at, her reflection in the mirror. "I would care more if I could go with them when they leave. Just imagine the things they've seen!"

"Sand and more sand if what father says is correct," Nimloth replied with a laugh. "He doesn't speak fondly of the lands to the east."

"I've heard there are vast cities with golden roofs, and beasts nearly as large as those cities," Morwen said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "And beyond them, lands unexplored for miles and miles, treeless fields of tall grass that go to the world's end."

"Maybe you'll get a chance to ask them about it," Nimloth said, attempting to encourage her sister. "If you look presentable."

Morwen snorted. "I'm sure they won't care much how I look! I've heard their women are warriors there! They'll likely be much more impressed by my dagger than my braids."

"Don't be so certain," Nimloth replied, finishing the last touches of Morwen's hair. "There now, see? For once you actually look like you belong in court."

Morwen focused back on her reflection, frowning at the result. Looking back at her was a lady, with a circlet of fiery red hair braided around the crown of her head and small white flowers adorning it. A light blue dress clung tightly to her shoulders, causing her to shift uncomfortably.

"I look like you," she said with a scowl.

"And what exactly is wrong with that?" Nimloth said with no small hint of irritation.

"It's terrible," Morwen huffed.

"Don't be ridiculous, you look beautiful!" Nimloth said, admiring her own work.

"I agree," a deeper voice said at the door. "Like a princess of Numenor of old, come to grace us with her presence."

"Father, stop," Morwen said, pretending to be annoyed but being unable to stop herself from smiling when she saw Gerithor at the door. He had clearly been preparing for the visit as well, his greying hair immaculately groomed and a small silver circlet upon his brow. Morwen always thought he looked kingly, despite only being a Warden.

"Nim, I'm impressed you managed to get all of the leaves and branches out of your sister's hair," he said with a faint smile, gazing upon his daughters fondly.

"It took hours, but even a wild one like Morwen can be made presentable," Nimloth said smugly. Morwen merely rolled her eyes.

"Just in time, too," Gerithor replied, taking each of their hands in his own weathered palms. "They should be arriving any moment now."

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Horns heralded the coming of the Easterlings as nearly everyone in the city crowded at the front gate. Most had never seen anyone more exotic than dwarves from the Blue Mountains, so the chance to see the mysterious men of Rhûn was an opportunity few passed up.

Caranor stood upon the ramparts beside his cousin Alif and a few other rangers, craning his neck to see. Scarlet banners soon appeared in the distance, and the glint of the sun upon polished bronze armor made the columns of soldiers visible even from afar.

A moment longer, and they could be seen more clearly, tall men upon massive warhorses, singing in a tongue unfamiliar to Caranor. Though he could not decipher the words, it seemed a proud song, one that spoke of might and splendor. The men sang in tune to their footsteps, stomping every few lines to emphasize their words.