(PTII)Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 4)

Chapter 15: The Heart of a Servant

Though his hands had not been bound, Caledorn felt strangely like a prisoner being led to an execution. Warriors flanked him on either side, some of them in the armor of Rhun and others in the ragtag garb of the Haradrim. They spoke little, though when they did it was to each other, and in a tongue that Caledorn did not understand. Their leader was a large man, his bare arms rippling with muscle. He garnered respect from the other men, though they did not speak to him at all. Instead he led the group, alone and a few paces ahead of the others.

Just before dawn they arrived at a small oasis, where the men refilled their water skins and allowed Caledorn to drink his fill as well. They continued on quickly, their pace increasing as they drew seemingly nearer to their destination.

When they began to ascend a tall hill the men began to congratulate each other, and Caledorn gathered that on the other side lie their final stop.

He could see several caravans near the top of the hill, some of them traveling in the same direction as he and his captors. A lone mumak strode slowly past them, several Haradrim jabbering back and forth and taking little notice of the strangely clad elf. He noticed that they were not carrying many weapons, and instead of a war tower the mumak had large crates of supplies strapped to its back. It's almost as if these people do not know that the world is about to fall into shadow, he thought to himself cynically.

As they crested the hill, a stunning sight greeted Caledorn. A vast city of tents lie beneath, innumerable and stretching as far as the eye could see. Like ranks of soldiers, the tents were set up in organized lines, and streets and lanes formed between them. Thousands of people moved to and fro, little more than dots from where the elf stood.

"Dorgesh-Suramu," the leader of the group said, his voice gruff but carrying a tone of immense respect when he spoke of the city. "The home of our people, and the last bastion of freedom in Rhun. Come."

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Along with the muscular man's words, the sight of children playing and mothers scolding them reassured Caledorn that perhaps this was the place he sought. There was no sign of orcs, or indeed any servants of Sauron at all.

The soldiers led him to a large tent that sat near the middle of the camp. Outside of it were guards, which Caledorn recognized as the elite Easterling soldiers, the Loke-Gamp-Rim. Their halberds parted, allowing him entry into the tent.

The furs of many exotic animals covered the floor, some of which even Caledorn did not recognize. Wooden steps led to a great throne, forged of steel and adorned with line upon line of Rhunic text. Guards lined the approach to the throne, as still as statues and not making a single sound. Standing beside the throne was a man, nearly as large as the stranger who had brought Caledorn there. However, this man was dressed as a Haradrim chieftain, his head adorned in a helmet around which was wrapped a scarlet turban.

Beside him, however, stood another man. Though he was not nearly as large as the Haradrim, he exuded charisma and leadership. He was clad in the armor of the Loke-Rim, though instead of bronze, his was made of dark steel, and instead of burgundy cloth he wore midnight blue. His back was facing Caledorn, for it was apparent that he had been speaking with the Haradrim. At Caledorn's entrance, however, he stopped his conversation. When he spoke again, he spoke loud enough for the elf to hear him. His voice carried with it a slight accent, though it was refined and pleasing to the ear.

"'When the West's need is most dire, then I will return to the East...' That is what you said, is it not? One year past you departed these lands, and now you return, when the seers have said that the stars grow dark."

He turned, revealing a young, chiseled face framed by long black hair. His dark eyes carried a slight glint of humor, yet at the same time he seemed grim and wise beyond his years. Scarlet paint rain down the right side of his face in lines, indicating his royal status.