"In my youth I felt myself strangely drawn to it and I spent many hours sitting near it. Father sometimes said that some of the strange powers I later discovered in myself were due to my affinity for the Black Stone. Whether that is true or not, I still feel a bond with it, as if my own powers are stronger in its proximity.
"When the Downfall of Númenor approached, father bade us leave the stone, but I would not have it lost and with great effort of many men we bore it to the havens and secured it deep in my ship, next the keel. When at length we landed at Pelargir we set it up there, but later removed it here as a token of the power and friendship of Gondor here in the western provinces. It has long been revered by the Eredrim, so they must sense its power as well."
He was silent a while, his hand yet resting on the smooth black stone.
"I am uneasy, Ohtar. I fear Romach is up to something."
"You think he means to break the Oath?"
"Surely not. I cannot think he would dare to openly defy us. It seemed rather that he was stalling, purposely playing for time."
"Why would he do that?"
"I don't know." They stood together, watching the gibbous moon sinking behind the western cliffs.
"Some of our people were drinking with the locals tonight," said Ohtar. "They told me they thought the Eredrim were not eager to join our cause."
"Clear it is that Romach is not."
"They also said the Eredrim, or at least Romach, seemed to be expecting someone else when we appeared this morning."
Isildur was silent and said no more. They stood there together in the darkness for some time. Eventually Ohtar grew cold and returned to the tent, but it was much later before he heard Isildur come in.
Chapter Two
Ambassador from the South
They rose early to a fine morning. The Eredrim women brought them olives and mutton and white goat cheese with which to break their fast. Isildur sent Ohtar to seek out Romach, and he found him in his hall, in council with several of his lieutenants.
"But surely he will turn back when he sees that the Gondorrim are here?" asked one.
"I would hope so, but you know how arrogant he…" began Romach, then his eye fell on Ohtar at the door. "Yes?" he called loudly, clearly a sign to the others to break off the discussion.
"My lord Isildur sends to know if any word has been received from the other tribes."
"No, not yet. The first are expected this afternoon. We will send word when they arrive."
Ohtar bowed and departed, feeling their eyes on his back. He paused just outside the door, but the door warden stepped towards him and he hurried back to Isildur.
"So they do expect other visitors," said Isildur when Ohtar reported what he had overheard.
"Yes, someone who would not want to appear while we're here."
"Some mischief is afoot here, but I cannot guess what it might be. We must remain alert. Pass the word to your friends among the men to see if they can learn anything."
The men were employed repairing their gear and sharpening their weapons. Isildur met with his lieutenants, informing them they would likely remain in Erech several more days. In midmorning Ohtar heard shouting and looked up from his grindstone. The watchman that Romach kept posted at the Stone was running as fast as he could toward Romach's hall. Others of the Eredrim were gathering nearby. Ohtar joined them and found Isildur already there.
Romach and his lieutenants were whispering excitedly among themselves. Isildur strode up to them.
"What is it, Romach?" he demanded. Romach's face blanched white. Ohtar noticed he was trembling.
"R-riders are approaching, Sire," he stammered.
"The Elders from the other tribes?"
"No, Sire. An embassy from another land."
"An embassy? You did not mention yesterday that you were expecting an embassy."
"No." He wiped his sweating face. Hoof beats could now be heard from the direction of the ford. "We did not expect them to…" he gulped. "We did not expect them today, Sire," he finished.
"And whom do they represent? If they are from Anfalas, it would save me a long ride to Ringlond to meet with their lord."
"They rode from Ringlond, Sire, but they are not the men of Anfalas."
"Not Anfalas? Then who are they, Romach? Stop stammering and…"
Suddenly a high shrill wail cut through the babble of voices. It was a woman's scream, full of grief and terror, and it chilled the hearts of every man there. All fell silent in amazement.
Even as they wheeled to look, six riders thundered into the village under a white banner of truce. They were tall and dark, with swarthy, sun-darkened skin. Their raiment was black and red, and their leader wore a helm in the likeness of a sea eagle, its great hooked beak mirroring his own.
Ohtar gasped. "Sire!" he exclaimed. "Those are no Uialedain!"
Isildur stared, his jaw set hard. "No. We saw enough of their like at Anglond to ever forget them. The Corsairs of Umbar!"
A man came running up from the camp, sword in hand. He was followed by another, then another — the men of Ethir Lefnui. Isildur's people grabbed up their weapons and came running as well.
"Stop!" shouted Isildur. "There will be no fighting until we know what game Romach is playing."
The men stopped beside the king, but they glared at the riders, now calmly dismounting by Romach's hall. Their eyes were cold and hard, and their knuckles were white on their sword hilts. Ohtar called some of the Ithilien men to join them, but whether to attack the Corsairs or to restrain the men of Ethir Lefnui, no one was sure. Isildur stalked over to Romach's hall, his eyes blazing.
"What means this, Romach?" he roared. "Do you then betray us to our enemies?"
Before Romach could reply, the leader of the newcomers turned to Isildur.
"I am Malithôr," he said in a smooth unctuous voice. "Ambassador of his Imperial Majesty Herumor of Umbar. And well do I know you, Isildur Elendilson. But I must point out to both you and my friend here," and he nodded toward the white-faced Romach, "that your enemies, Isildur, are not necessarily his." The ambassador glared insolently at the king. He was nearly as tall as Isildur, but thin and narrow-shouldered, with a long face and high cheekbones. He stood drawn up to his full height, head thrown back proudly. Dark eyes glittered as he peered down his long nose. "My lord Romach must first choose his friends before he may know his enemies," he said.
"The slaves of Sauron are the enemies of all free peoples," replied Isildur through clenched teeth.
The cold eyes kindled. "The Men of Umbar are slaves to no one! We are our own agents, acting for our own ends."
"Your ends are murder and pillage," growled Isildur. "I was at Anglond when your ships attacked that city and slew many peaceable farmers."
The ambassador of Umbar gave a grim smile. "Peaceable farmers, were they? And what was your errand to Anglond, Isildur? We captured a few of those peaceable farmers alive, and upon questioning they told us you were there to turn them from farmers to soldiers."
"Questioning? You mean torture."