The Kinstrife

Part 32

In which the Great Council concludes in confusion; Daeron gives his decision; we all indulge in Colfen’s invigorating raid on Tol-Cirya.

 

June 30th 1441

 

This is the last day of the Great Council, thankfully. By midday the delegates have agreed on a rough wording to the resolution with some remarkable sub-clauses regarding notable side-issues. So after lunch they vote and unsurprisingly fail to reach a two-thirds majority.

 

There follows several hours of horse-trading; it seems the Sea Faction is gaining ground, mainly thanks to Umbar’s mercantile interests but it seems the book-binder’s guild may be crucial. The second resolution would split the money 90:10 in favour of the Sea Faction; it fairs better but still fails.

 

So a third round sees moderates pushing for a 60:40 split but both sides claim they need all the available cash to fund their optimum strategies and this final resolution fails even to gain a majority. It is getting dark.

 

As dusk falls, Daeron adjourns the Council and offers to give his reasoned decision the day after the morrow.

 

July 1st 1441

 

With the Council all but over bar Daeron’s decision, we get word from Colfen to meet him tomorrow night an hour after dusk. In preparation for the raid, Ilviren and I spend the morning in sparring practise. She has learned a few tricks but I am quicker. I think we’re quite evenly matched now. I also idly practise throwing the daggers I took from Anwar Serni’s Vault, and quickly convince myself that I’ve a lot to learn. I spend the afternoon in drafting an account of the Rhavas affair for Daeron and the Queen and a brief sketch of the proceedings.

 

July 2nd 1441

 

The Great Council reconvenes to hear Daeron’s considered verdict. He gives an excellent speech giving a balanced view of all the arguments (or rather all the good arguments) and then goes on to award all the available funds (bar that consigned to mundane administration) to the Land Faction. He invites all delegates to read his detailed written verdict before departing. I stick around to test the political water.

 

Naturally, Telemnar and Menelmir are the first to read Daeron’s written decision, doubtless having received their own copies. Word soon starts to leak down the political ladder.

 

It seems Daeron criticises the Sea Faction’s strategy as the worthless squander of funds by embroiling Gondor in a war far, far to the south. On top of this, he pointedly comments that the Sea Faction has been using underhand methods to discredit the opposition and bolster their own case, implying that they believe their case is weaker than they would like and in Daeron’s opinion was never very strong in the first place.

 

I congratulate Telemnar, who looks like Beruthiel’s cats, full of cream. Kunbeshu is a little dispirited but I congratulate him for his party. He would have liked to have seen some small investment in mercantile ventures. I offer that mercantilism should pay for itself but he counters that without naval support to protect the sea lanes rich merchantmen will only draw pirates.

 

Mardil is obviously happy the Sea Faction has received a bloody nose but he does his best to hide it. I suggest that the time may be ripe to suggest a re-examination of jurisdictions and I swear his smile grows broader – endangering his head.

 

So we repair to the Drunken Southron in some elation to prepare for Colfen’s raid. I change to rough travelling clothes, don my mail shirt and helm and take up my shield.

 

Pimm is wearing a full suit of plate! Ilviren wears a mail shirt and hose, Brand wears back-and-breast over tough leather. I feel quite underdressed – only Aerin wears less metal, placing her trust in a shiny new shield.

 

Down by the quay, there are lots of small boats all crewed by Ethir folk. It looks disorganised but Colfen seems confident so presumably it’s all following some plan in his head, which Ilviren has the temerity to ask after – we have thirty to forty people but Colfen admits that as we have no knowledge of what we will be facing, we will have to play it by ear.

 

The party cross in the myriad boats and we make landfall without event. Colfen orders half-a-dozen lightly equipped skirmishers to scale the cliff. Ilviren and I take the opportunity to secure a boat to ensure our escape should things turn sour.

 

The climbers let down rope ladders and we all join the scouts at the top of the cliff. (I confess never having used a rope-ladder before and find the experience a challenge – I think I will make the return using a simple rope.)

 

There’s room for the men to form up but before us is a natural corridor through the cliff wide enough for 5 to march abreast. It seems things are all a little confused so I start martialing our forces, setting the more heavily-armed (including Ilviren, Brand, Colfen and I, in the first ranks and sending the skirmishers forward to scout the way. Pimm refuses to take front rank, despite his full armour and heavy hand weapons (including an axe), choosing instead to take second rank, relying on his archery. Aerin is with the support in the centre of the formation but I make the last line as strong as possible to protect our rear.

 

We advance. We dimly hear chanting from ahead but this dies as a single voice commences a speech, opening with a quote by the last High Priest of Melkor’s Temple (a Zimrakhil – no relation of the Zimrakhil with whom we will be travelling soon, I hope).

 

Then we emerge in the dark to see the speaker on a dais flanked by armed cronies. He looks remarkably similar to Colfen, and I recall that Ulbar and Colfen are half-brothers. He swears to raise up the Temple again, as per the late Zimrakhil’s dying prophecy, and then Pimm lets fly an arrow to smite Ulbar in the chest. He gives vent to the Word of Power ‘Melkor’ before toppling backward out of sight.

 

I feel the Word of Power impress but shrug it off. Our presence announced, I order a charge. The cultists outnumber us about two to one and by electing to carry the fight to them I expose us to being surrounded but they are surprised and unarmed, prepared for worship, not battle. By attacking we seize the initiative and ensure we keep it. To remain in the mouth of the corridor would condemn us to a defensive action, allowing them the opportunity to regroup and arm.

 

Alas, the charge is not as overwhelming as I’d hoped, thanks to Ulbar’s Word of Power, which causes half our party to break step. Still I smite my first opponent hard but he fights on wounded. By now Brand is also chanting and I feel the familiar invigoration of his more wholesome magics.

 

I am clearly getting the best of my opponent when Word of Power ‘Adunaphel’ is shouted over the fray and I feel myself frozen in fear. So this is what it’s like to be taken by dark magics; not a sensation I’m used to nor wish to become familiar with. While frozen I’m hit but my mail shirt saves me from hurt and suddenly I can move again, only to miss twice – my hand unnerved by the foul dweomer.

 

Another shout of ‘Melkor’ hammers all our psyches but again this fails to stay my hand and I finally put my man down. I take advantage to assess our situation.

 

Despite the use of dark arts, we appear to be winning, pressing the enemy back and preventing them from regrouping. I feel only these foul words of power are keeping the enemy in the fight and they represent the enemy’s main threat. All the words of power have emanated from the dais, where four armed men screen the site of Ulbar’s fall and it is he who must be casting the magics from where he lies prone. Obviously, we must assault the dais to end the dark magics but, eyeing the guards, I know I cannot do it alone.

 

Ilviren is the only person of sufficient prowess but not only is she engaged with an opponent but she is taken by the last Word of Power. I parry one blow, throwing one dagger at the guards in vain, and then she recovers and together we down her opponent. Briefly I explain that we must assault the dais and together we charge. I throw a second dagger, taking one opponent in the chest and then Ilviren and I are trading blows with Ulbar’s bodyguard.

 

It’s a hard fight and we suffer further assaults from dark magics but suddenly we down two of the guards and while I engage the last Ilviren runs Ulbar through.

 

I shout ‘Ulbar is dead!’ and the enemy’s morale collapses. Suddenly the fight becomes isolate skirmishes and we start taking prisoners. I realise I’ve taken a gash in the thigh, though I cannot recall when it happened.

 

It falls to quiet, broken only by the groans of the wounded, tended by Aerin and others. Brand chooses this moment to announce that we are in the lower vaults of the ruined Temple of Melkor.

 

To do list:

Deal with the aftermath of Colfen’s raid on Tol-Cirya, return to Umbar

Complete narrative for the Queen and for Daeron, the King’s representative before he leaves after the Council

Approach Zimrakhil over the Umbar portion of Key of Fuinur’s Well while touring Near Harad

Visit Celebrindor’s construction site in Near Harad

Inquire after Perhaladin – might be a cult for Ragnor

Advise Father of that coins used to pay Khoradôr may come from The Straight Man

Ask Granny Serni why she gave me the jewel?

Who was Tevildo from the Benish Armon tomb in the Ethir Anduin?