[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The Emissary arrived at dawn, emerging from the shadows of the west like the return of a dream. He and his vanguard of fifty tall men were dressed in richly woven clothes of purple and black, and their great war-horses struck sparks from the cobbled way that led to the city. Their faces were fair, though deeply tanned by their passage of the Great Desert, and yet despite the weariness of their journey they were proud and stern in aspect. Their hair was dark but their eyes were startling shades of gray, even blue, and not the usual brown. Most surprising of all, their faces were smooth and closely shaved. To many who saw them, they appeared as the Avarin, but their countenances, which bore the marks of age and toil despite their great beauty, were clearly those of Men, and not of the immortal ones. They were strangely armed with long, straight swords at their sides. Their weapons were the result of great craft, but many a Pashtian wondered at how such a large and cumbersome weapon could be used it combat.

They passed first through the rich farmlands that lay upon the banks of the river. The morning sun leapt above the horizon, revealing the company to the labourers already hard at work in the fields of their employers, trying to gather in as much of the crop as they could before the sun gained the advantage of the day, dissolving it with a blank white heat. The dark men did not glance to either side as they rode past the farms, nor did they acknowledge the stares of those they passed. The road turned away from the river and they followed it up a slight incline as it brought them closer to the city walls. Farmlands gave way to rolling hills, richly clad with grasses and shrubs, and home to the country estates of the nobility. The large houses of brick glowed like burnished bronze in the rising sun, and their groves of grapes, olives and figs clustered thick about them. At this season, the houses were deserted by all save the groundskeepers and a few servants, who watched the company pass from the walls that rose about the estates. These people were used to the sight of richly appointed parties, but these people from the west were so strange that they could not help but stare in wonderment.

The walls of the city rose up in the near distance but the company rode on apparently undaunted. They passed through the great empty fields that had been cleared for the mustering of Pashtia’s army and cavalry, and if they were at all impressed by the twin statues of Rhais and Rae that rose above them upon either side of the road, they did not show it. When they reached the city walls the gates were opened for them without any command or word being spoken, and it became clear to those who watched from the ramparts that the company was expected. The horses’ hooves clattered noisily upon the stones as they followed the road through the suburbs. Here the houses were small and closely built, but they were all of them clean and richly appointed. They were built in the manner of all Pashtian homes, of mud-bricks that had been fired to bronze-coloured strength. The homes presented to the street only blank walls with narrow windows, but as the company passed the tall gates of each home they could see that the houses all had large central courtyards, and that all the rooms of the home opened out onto covered walks that ran about the inside the building. As they pressed on into the city, the homes grew richer, and taller, and in the courtyards were fountains and pools, supplied by the great viaduct that they had seen at the waterfall more than three leagues distant.

The road passed through another wall, this one not as high as the great outer defense, but richly carved and draped with banners of silk. Within the ring of this wall were the markets and houses of trade. The goods of the Pashtians were laid out upon counters and tables, and could be glimpsed beyond the thick wooden doors of huge warehouses. There was a great press of people about although it was yet early morning, and in the many markets the company passed through there was a continual hum of business and industry.

At last, the road achieved the wall of the Palace. It was the first structure they had seen not made of brick, but of hewn stone. It sprang up before them and glowed pink in the sun, for it was made of marble that had been brought here over immeasurable distances centuries before. The gate that admitted them into the Palace grounds was made of steel, and upon it were many figures engraved of the Kings of Pashtia and their deeds. Within the walls of the palace, the sounds of the markets were stilled and replaced by the gentle trickle of falling water and the call of birds. It was like another world, a green world of immaculately tended trees and flowering shrubs. There were small shrines and statues scattered amongst the streams and copses, and occasionally small villas could be glimpsed behind vibrant walls of hedges. The scents of a thousand different plants filled the air. The road rose up a hill toward the palace. It looked, from the outside, like the homes they had passed earlier, only much larger. It glowed with the rich warm hue of the bricks, and its walls were smooth and unmarked. When they passed through the gates, however, they were given a glimpse of the huge courtyard around which the palace had been built. It was filled with gardens and pools of water even more miraculously elaborate than those they had seen, and in its center there rose a single tall column of black stone, smooth and featureless, but which shone as though it had been burnished with a cloth. Beside the column was a deep well, perfectly round and carved, it seemed from the living bedrock upon which the palace had been built.

They stopped at the end of the passage that led through this wing of the palace, and a single guard stepped forward. He raised his hand and spoke to them in the common tongue of the East, and was surprised when he received an answer from the tall man who rode at the head of the column in the same language.

“Your coming is known to my King and you are welcome,” the guard began ceremoniously. “My King bids you appear before him and make the purpose of your journey known.”

“I thank your King for this greeting, and I will attend him.” The company dismounted and followed the guard through a door at the side of the passage. He led them into a large hall, lit by rows of windows high up in the walls, and filled with a press of people dressed in silks and cloths of many different bright colours. The crowd was silent and moved aside to allow the company of stern men to pass. At the end of the hall there rose a tall dais, upon which stood the King, clad simply in an orange robe of silk, and wearing his diadem of pounded silver. He was unarmed, but about the foot of the dais were ranged a hundred of his personal guard, their faces covered with the same scarlet cloth that draped them to their feet.

The company halted at the foot of the dais and the Emissary stepped forward. Looking up to where the King stood he addressed him in tones of practiced diplomacy. “Hail and greetings to King Faroz of Pashtia from my Lord Annatar of the West! He sends you good will and friendship, and bids me ask if you are willing to exchange the like with him.”

A murmur ran through the crowd at the fair words and the noble manner in which they had been delivered. The King, however, appeared unmoved as he replied. “The greetings are returned, but I am afraid that I know nothing of your lord. You have come a long way from across the Great Desert, through which few Pashtians dare now travel, for we have heard that the lands to the west have grown dangerous and that the kingdoms of that realm are in eternal conflict. We want no part of foreign wars.”

“It is true that in the past there were trials in my land,” the Emissary replied. “But those troubles are behind us now. My Lord desires only peace and friendship with all the peoples of Middle-Earth, and to that end he has sent me into these distant lands to seek out both with our long separated kindred of men.”

The King paused in thought for a time before responding. “You speak fairly, and I will consider the request for friendship, but does your lord ask only for that? You would not have come all this way merely to express tidings of good will.”

“You are wise and perceptive, King Faroz. I cannot deny that my Lord has given me two tasks of more specific import. He bid me say that if you are willing to accept his friendship, then might you consider alliance as well? My Lord is powerful in his lands, as you are in yours, and one can never have too many allies in an uncertain world.”

“Of this first matter, we will speak further. What of the second?”

The Emissary drew forth from beneath his clothes a small black bag, from which he took out a gold ring. It was unmarked and plain, but there was upon it a small red stone that glittered in the light, and the gold itself shone. Many who beheld the ring felt that it was a thing of great worth, and longed to examine it more closely. The Emissary held the ring aloft. “My Lord Annatar is known in the west as the Lord of Gifts. Let this be the first of the gifts that he will send as token of his friendship and alliance!”

The King came down the steps of the dais and took the ring from the Emissary. He held it in his palm for a moment and gazed at it in silence. It was a beautiful thing, perfectly round and unmarked. Its gem seemed to glow with a dull red light of its own. He resisted the urge to put it on immediately, for he did not wish to seem over eager in the eyes of his people. Looking up at the Emissary once more, the King thought for a fleeting moment that he caught a look of great cunning on the man’s fair face, but when he looked again there was only a noble mien of respect. Closing his hand about the ring, the King spoke so the court could hear. “It is indeed a rich gift, and I will accept it. As to the offer of alliance, I will speak with you further about your Lord and take counsel with my nobles. For now, however, accept in return my own expressions of thanks and friendship.” The King’s eyes drifted back down to the hand in which he clutched the ring. “It is indeed a rich gift,” he said as though to himself. “A precious gift.”