Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Days of the King ❯ Blood and Ambition ( Chapter 27 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter 28 - Blood and Ambition

Lord Ondoher entered his study. Three young women were already in the room. One
perused his extensive library, another stood by a window, overlooking the
boulevard, and the third refined the application of her cosmetics. Over some
paperwork on Lord Ondoher's desk.

He called each one by name.

"Ulietta."

"Ebronne."

"Seyra - kindly refrain from putting your paints and powders on my
correspondence." Pouting, the girl so named began to stopper her jars
and bottles.

With a cutting look, Ondoher began. "You all know why you have been summoned.
Ulietta? Please summarize the basics of this meeting."

Ulietta, the young woman by the bookcase, turned to her father. She was
tall, slender, and pale. Her abundant hair was a shade of red closer to
bronze, cool blond tones calming the vibrant color. Her almond-shaped,
pale grey eyes were the color of winter skies, and her features were narrow
and aristocratic. She was the very image of nobility in female form, and
Lord Ondoher, though not a demonstrative father, had always been extremely
proud of his third daughter.

"I gather that we have been chosen as the first three of our Lord King
Aragorn's potential blood mates".

A soft snort from Ebronne was heard. "Bed mates more like it."
She was the woman by the window, and Ondohers' niece. His sister had
married a soldier, a commoner that rose through the ranks to become a
general. His peasant blood showed in his daughter. Not that it wasn't
becoming, if a man's taste ran to sun browned, athletic brunettes
with little love for the cosmetic arts. She hunted and rode like
a man, was skilled in sword and bow. And possessed a distressing
tendency to flout conventional behavior at every turn.

"I think the King is very handsome, even if he is a little old for my
taste," said the third girl. Seyra was a little confection of a girl, and
another of Ondoher's nieces. She was a head and a half shorter than
Ulietta and Ebronne, and was included to offer real variety to the King.
Her hair was as blond as spun gold and her wide almost childlike eyes were
sky blue. She had a tiny button nose and a full and sensual mouth. Her
costuming was always the very latest in fashion, and she knew every dance,
bit of gossip, and clever turn of phrase to make her the center of
attention at every social gathering.

Ulietta was silent during these comments. She was dressed in a simple
column of pale green wool, long sleeved, with a modest embroidered
neckline. Tiny emeralds hung from her ears on short, fine chains of silver.
Her wealth of bronze hair was arranged in a becoming coiffure, with a
topknot in silver netting at the crown of her head. She was a scholar and
historian, and could tell you the lineage of all the Numerorean families
back twenty generations. Ulietta probably knew more about the commerce of
the realm than the King and most of his ministers. Her legal studies made
her the second or third most knowledgeable person in Minas Tirith regarding
the laws, their evolution and their application. Her manners were impeccable,
royal, one could say; and she could converse eloquently in at least four
languages, including that of the lost Elves.

Ebronne wore her thick, glossy brown hair gathered carelessly over one
shoulder. She was dressed in a red and black woolen tunic, split to upper thigh,
over leggings and calfskin boots, well worn and a bit muddy. She wore a length of
silver chain as a belt, and two small silver hoops hung from her ears. Her sleeves
were short, even in the cool dampness of early spring, and the muscles of her arms
could be seen as she stretched like a large, lazy cat. Her bright green eyes flashed
with impatience at these proceedings.

Seyra wore layers of pale blue silk, a frothy concoction that showed her full
breasts, generous hips, and tiny waist to best advantage. She wore earrings,
necklaces and bracelets of gold and sapphires. Her mouth was tinged the deep
pink of summer roses, and her eyelids were enhanced with a smokey shadow
that accentuated their color and size.

"May I continue, ladies?" Ulietta said, in her crispest, most scathing tone.

"My father, your uncle, our Lord Ondoher has given us the honor of bringing
our names, pedigrees, accomplishments and likenesses to the attention of
our liege lord, Aragorn, King of Gondor; the last of the Numenorean royalty.
To find favor with the king would be a lofty achievement; to provide him an
heir would bring everlasting glory to our families, for our names would then
be forever linked with the last Great King of Men."

"Could you possibly sound more pompous?" Ebronne murmured, as she tossed
her heavy coil of dark hair backwards, and stretched luxuriously.

"Go on, Uli...this sounds so grand! I love it!" said Seyra.

Ignoring them both, Ulietta continued.

"The king will naturally have a wide selection of the best blood in Gondor
to choose from. In his wisdom, my father is acting as our...advisor to assure
that one of us, not any other of the king's possible choices, will be the
mother of his child and heir."

Ulietta went to her father's cabinets, and withdrew a small white bottle.

"Oooh, what is it? Perfume? Love potion?" squeaked Seyra.

"You are partially right, cousin. We will each be given one of these
vials to take with us to the palace. As you already know, if chosen, we
will have to live in the king's residence and will be under scrutiny at all
times. So we must plan this carefully. This," she picked up the small
round pearlescent bottle with an ornate stopper carved of polished horn,
"contain an aphrodisiac; a very powerful love potion. It is to be used with
all possible discretion on the King only when intimacy seems likely. Do
not waste it if you intend to go hunting or shopping with him...

"Or read him a book..." Ulietta ignored Ebronne's jibe.

"It also promotes profuse sweating and a fainting sensation if the blood is
not already inflamed with passion, so be careful in your application. We three
were chosen not only for nobility of our bloodline," Ulietta's gaze slid briefly
toward Ebronne, who caught her glance and stared back, defiant, "but for our,
shall we say, diversity. We are kinswomen, but quite different in temperament
and appearance. One of us should please him; perhaps two may appeal to his taste.
But for him to find none of us attractive will put his willingness to adhere to the
laws that govern even the King in question. Prepare yourselves, cousins; one of us
will be mother to the next King. My father has several seamstresses waiting to
provide us with a wardrobe that will show us all to our best advantage. They are in
my chambers. Ladies - please avail yourselves of their skills."

'Oh! New clothes! Uncle Ondoher...!" Seyra skipped over to her uncle and gave him
a dainty, breathless peck on each cheek.

"I am very glad that you are pleased, child. Now go...you and your cousins will be living
in the palace in mere weeks...no time to lose!"

Seyra scampered away.

Ebronne walked towards her uncle and gave him a small bow, and then turned to leave.
Ondoher cleared his throat.

"Ebronne...a moment."

She turned back to her Uncle, but made no move to close the distance.

"I trust your parents have impressed upon you the priviledge of this opportunity, niece."

Ebronne leveled a blank, unreadable gaze at her uncle.

"They have, my lord. I will try not to disgrace them."

Ondoher gazed at her silently for a moment. "I would consider it a personal favor if you would
honor that pledge, Ebronne."

With a disturbingly sly smile, Ebronne said, "I will do my best, Uncle." She sauntered from the
study.

When they were alone, Ulietta locked the door.

Ondoher drummed his fingers absentmindedly on his large ornately carved desk.


"Ebronne troubles me. Her promise to her parents notwithstandling, she is too headstrong to bow
to these protocols and restrictions without some rebellion. I hope she cooperates with our plans.
She is the only other girl child of my immediate family line of age for the selection, and I would
like to try to place my kin first before I am forced to seek among the families of my allies.
Alliances have collapsed with much less than the successor to the throne of Gondor at stake."

He turned his eyes to his daughter. "Sit, Ulietta. I have some things to show you."

Ondoher reached into one of the bottom drawers, and placed two bottles upon his desk. One was of deep
red blown glass, shaped like a tiny pear, with a stopper of gold flecked glass in the likeness of a feather.
He pushed it towards Ulietta.

"This vial holds an abortifacient. If any but you should gain the king's favor and conceive, that child
cannot be born. If he can be induced to sire an heir at all, it must be with you. This is not the time for
squeamishness." said Ondoher as a fleeting expression of distaste passed over her features.

He placed the second bottle next to the first. It was of cut glass, as brilliant and vivid as an emerald,
with an ivory stopper encrusted with small semi-precious stones.

"This one is poison. Three drops will kill a strong man; one will make one violently ill. Two is
enough to kill most women. Do not handle it if you have a cut or wound upon your hands; it will
kill you. Do not get it into your eyes or nose; it will kill you. It acts slower upon the body when
ingested in food than in drink. This is our action of last resort. No one must be allowed to
obstruct us, daughter."

During her instructions, Ulietta eyes shone with a brilliant intensity. This
mission had taken on the dimensions of a quest for her. She was twenty-eight,
unmarried, and educated beyond the requirements of even noble marriage. But
she was perfect for the childless King, whose acquaintance with the
conventions of his own country seemed slight at best. She was the very
embodiment of the civilization that was the White City. His alien queen was
of no assistance, and without a more formal approach to many aspects of his
leadership, Aragorn appeared to the city's nobility to be foundering.

This was the opportunity of her lifetime, and she knew it. As far as she and
her father were concerned, Ebronne and Seyra were simply window dressing. The line
of Ondoher would produce the heir to the Gondorian throne, AND place a Queen beside
it. The she-elf would not live out the year.
________________________________________________________________________ __
Aragorn ushered the Rai into the palace garden. It was lovely at this time of year;
spring growth bursting with myriad scents, buds about to flower on all the trees and
shrubs, and a sense of life urgently breaking free of winter's chill.

"If you don't mind, good sir, I would like to walk a bit to assure we are alone. I believe we
have much of great import to discuss, and such talk is for our ears alone." Aragorn spoke
in low tones, and kept an inappropriately inocuous smile on his face throughout. Not that
he feared any spies in particular, but after the ominous visit by the other Harad, he
was inclined to be cautious.

"Wise, very wise, good King. But please let us sit before long. I am not a young man and the
journey has been long and tiring..."the Harad lord waved a perfumed kerchief before his face.

Aragorn selected two facing benches near the middle of the garden, many yards from the entrance,
but with the doors in view. "I believe we are truly alone now, my lord. I am most curious about
your visit. Please...speak. You have my rapt attention."

After a perfunctory glance about, the Rai stuffed the hankercheif into one of his flowing sleeves.
His expression took on a keen and troubled cast completely different from the verbose courtier
present moments ago.

"I am the cheiftain of the largest tribe in my country; many lesser cheiftains owe their allegience to me.
'Rai' is a title. It is less like 'King' than 'Great Father'. And that is what I am to my people.
It is a hereditary title, bestowed upon those perceived as most worthy among the forty - four great
families of the Haradrim-Amaltas; our noblity. For five generations, it has been the priviledge of my family
line to wear the title. As the oldest of the great royal houses among my people, the duty had fallen to me
to reach out to the Men of the West, the great Northern Kingdoms, and join what now will be the
confederation of Men. The White council is no more. Sauron and Saruman are gone. The elves have left
these shores. It is up to us to control our own destiny. And I would not have this time of possible
peace and fellowship ruined by anyone, especially by one of my own countrymen."

Aragorn sat further back on the bench and crossed his arms, watching the Rai. He said nothing.

"Ah...perhaps my countryman's activities are known to you? You are aware of his powers, then?"

Aragorn spoke slowly. "My lord...there has been murder done among my folk...whole villages destroyed.
Is has been suspected that the culprit is a leader of a band of Haradrim. Who is he?"

The Rai moved toward the edge of his seat. "He is Zelea Hasdral, your Grace; a sorcerer, a necromancer.
It was through his efforts that so many of my people, as well as the folk you name Southrons, and Easterlings
were drawn into the war. He sought to bargain with that devil Sauron using the currency of human lives
for a share of power over not only your lands, but mine also. When his foul allies lost, he disappeared for a
time; many thought and hoped he had been struck down by the same doom that took his Master. But rumors had
reached us of his reappearance and of his greatly enhanced powers.

He calls himself 'Rai', but he has none of the blood of the forty-four. It is a title that he presumes to
use since he murdered one of the lesser cheiftains in the southeast, and claimed the man's castle,
lands and chattel. His victim's kinfolk appealed to me for aid. I am the Great Rai, Cheiftain among
cheiftains, and all assumed that I could and should avenge the man and restore the family's fiefdom.

I knew the family, and I was outraged. I mounted an assault upon the castle with the warriors of my tribe
and many from other tribes loyal to my banner."

Here, the Rai took a shuddering breath. Even beneath the ruddy complexion, Aragorn discerned the ashen
shadow of fear.

"I am no coward sir, but what I saw that day! Would I had never seen it..."

The Rai collected himself.

"Hasdral was gone. The castle and the its surrounding lands were blackened as if all were consumed in a great
fire, but still standing. The very stones and mortar had turned to scorched glass. But that was
nothing. It was what befell the people and animals. I have seen my share of death, your majesty, but this
was like nothing anyone has seen. They were turned to shriveled statues of themselves, frozen in stances
of such horror and pain...you could see it still upon their faces. And all about, a noxious fume rose from
the scene. No plant or insect, no living thing trod upon the land. Nature will reclaim the most abhorrent
scene of death, but this site seemed shunned by all that was natural.

I had dispatched several of my men to investigate the castle and the petrified dead. But this sorcery
has lingering effects. Those who touched the blighted things or trod upon that blasted ground began to
scream in agony as some dark miasma ate at them, like...an acid or a wasting disease that crumbled the
body before death mercifully took their senses..."

The Rai had begun to truly perspire, and mopped at his brow with his hankercheif.

He fixed Aragorn with a purposeful stare.

"Wherever that devil is, he will bring new horrors. I have come not just to warn you, Lord Aragorn, but to
implore you. The death he brings he brings to us all. We will be stronger against him if we are allied.
What is that old adage? The enemy of my enemy?..."

Aragorn drew a deep breath. "That is quite a tale, sir. As with any of the righteous who ask for succor in
time of need, we are glad to give it. And I thank you for the information regarding this Hasdral. We will be
on our guard."

"And another thing, King Aragorn," here, he extended his hand. "My full name is Hamith Miogenes Dathik-Nessa.
I am truly glad to have you as an ally...and, I hope, as a friend."