Isildur

The ambassador shrugged. "They required some persuasion, of course, but what of that? We needed to know why you were there and they were at first reluctant to tell us. We could learn nothing from their silence or their lies. In the end of course they told the truth, as they all do eventually. You're a soldier, Isildur. You know torture is the quickest and surest way to learn the truth."

Isildur glared, his eyes full of hatred. "We do not torture prisoners we capture. It is barbaric."

"Then you are fools. I am sure you took a few of our people during the fighting at Anglond. They were brave and loyal men, I'm sure, but I have no doubt that torture, skillfully applied, would have induced them to tell you we planned to sail to the River Lefnui next. If you had known that, perhaps you could have saved that city."

Isildur's face went red with anger. "The sack of Ethir Lefnui is an outrage and a crime," shouted Isildur, his voice shaking. "Those people had done nothing to you. They were no threat to you."

The ambassador's face remained calm, even careless. "That's quite true, of course. They were completely unimportant. The people of Lefnui have always been peaceful and trusting. But we needed to set an example, and burning Lefnui would cost us little trouble. We wanted the people of all lands to know that the hand of Umbar is long, and neither high walls nor the promised protection of Gondor will stay that hand when people insist on allying themselves with the wrong side." He glanced meaningfully toward Romach.

"You have a strange way of enlisting allies in your cause," said Isildur. "Do you seek to make your friends by killing them?"

"We do not seek friends," snapped Malithôr. "Umbar is so mighty it has no need of allies. But when a city threatens to rise up against us, it could give others ideas. And so we crush it, as we would a disobedient dog. Other lands that might have thought of wavering soon find new resolve to avoid a similar fate." He smiled at Romach. "Might we go into your hall, my lord? We have much to speak of."

Romach started. "Yes, of course. Come in." He glanced at Isildur's face, now dark with fury. "Both of you, come into my hall." He led the way under the low door. Isildur turned to Ohtar.

"Keep a close eye on the Umbardrim. And keep the Lefnui people away from them. They are under a flag of truce." He turned and entered the hall behind Malithôr.

"You have no right to threaten these people," he said as soon as the door was closed. "They are free to choose their friends as they will."

"We have every right to do whatever we want!" replied Malithôr, showing signs of anger for the first time. "Herumor is the rightful lord of all these lands, not your Elendil. Umbar was founded long ago by the mighty kings of Númenor, and we have ruled this land for long ages before Gondor existed. What would the Uialedain have been without us Dúnedain? We brought the first corn and wine to Middle-earth. We taught them farming and shipbuilding and constructing in stone. We have been their teachers, their protectors, their lords, for over two thousand years, while your forefathers sat in Andúnië and mooned after their friends the Elves. Where were your noble Elves when fair Númenor was torn asunder? Drinking, no doubt, with their allies the Valar, they who cast our homeland under the sea!

"We have lived with the men of Middle-earth for centuries. We know each other well. They have always looked to the mighty fleet of Umbar for their protection. They are our grateful wards. It is you, Isildur, and your father that have stirred them against us. We are merely bringing them back to their senses."

"Does slaying them bring them to their senses, Malithôr? Do you truly believe that it is in their interests to bend their knees to Sauron?"

"Of course it is in their interest. It is always in one's interest to be aligned with a victor. It is fruitless to stand against Sauron. Do you think to defeat him with your puny weapons? He is not a man such as we, nor is he yet like to the Elves. For he is one of the Maiar, the mighty ones who were present when the world was made. You cannot dream to defeat him. Not all the Elves and Men in all of Middle-earth could so much as approach him. Why, he learned his powers at the feet of Melkor the Vala himself."

"Speak not that name!" spat Isildur. "He forfeited his right to bear a name and shall ever be known only as Morgoth, the Black Enemy. Like his lackey Sauron, he too, once thought to set himself to be Lord of Middle-earth. Infinitely mightier than Sauron was he, and yet Elves and Men cast him down and he was driven from the circles of the world, and thus the Elder Days passed away and the New Age began."

"He was overthrown only by the might of his fellow Valar, not by puny men nor Elves. Now the Valar have withdrawn from the world and they have sworn never to enter it again. And Sauron has grown much greater since his master's downfall."

"You defend Sauron as if you spoke for him instead of your Emperor. Are you then Herumor's creature, or Sauron's?"

Malithôr's eyes flickered at that. "I am a loyal subject of his Imperial Majesty Herumor of Umbar. His Majesty bows his knee to no one, not even Sauron. I was only pointing out the futility of your struggle against Sauron."

"Sauron is bent on enslaving all the peoples of Middle-earth. Does your Emperor think to become one of his slaves? Or does he plan to stand against him when he moves to bring Umbar under his dominion?"

"Umbar will never be ruled by Sauron! But he is a great power to be reckoned with; it is not prudent to openly oppose him. Yet he can be appeased, placated. And when he is victorious over the Elves and you Gondorrim, he will remember his friends." With another significant glance at Romach, he added, "As he will remember those who fought against him. And if you think Ethir Lefnui's fate hard, tempt not Sauron's anger."

Isildur made a sound of disgust and abruptly broke off the debate. He turned to Romach.

"Do not be fooled by his lies, Romach. Do you fancy that you can ingratiate yourselves with such as Sauron? He does not make allies, he makes slaves. This Malithôr may deny it, but I tell you the Umbardrim are the agents of Sauron — if not actually in his service, they are at best working his will for their own ends. Listen not to this tool of the Enemy. He says he is the ambassador of Umbar, but I say he is naught but the mouth of Sauron."

Malithôr actually hissed. "And you, Isildur, are the pawn of the Elves. Do you think they truly love Men? Gil-galad is using you as a minor distraction against Sauron, as a fallen warrior might throw dust into his enemy's eyes in the faint hope that his death stroke will go astray."

"The Elves have ever been our friends and our allies," retorted Isildur. "They fought beside us against Morgoth in the Elder Days, and they fight with us today against Sauron."

Malithôr shook his head resignedly, as at a foolish and stubborn child. "They are using you, Isildur. You spill the noble blood of Númenor for them, but the Elves are a fading race. They are no longer concerned with the affairs of Middle-earth. Always they are sailing away, never to return. Hardly a month goes by that a ship does not sail from the Grey Havens, bound back to their home in the west. Your Elvish allies will tire of the war and dwindle away. Soon all will be gone, and you will be facing Sauron alone. Would you still stand against him then?"

"Gil-galad and the Elves of Lindon will not abandon us while this war persists. And were there no Elves to aid us, still would we fight Sauron. Even if all hope of victory were gone, better to die his foes than to live his slaves."

Malithôr gave a mirthless laugh. "Bah. Your line has always been dreamers."

"And you Black Númenóreans have ever been the tools of evil," snapped Isildur. "Long have you harassed the people of these coasts, and many of them even now sit chained to the oars in your ships. You are nothing but common pirates."

"Pirates?" cried the ambassador. "We are the descendants of the kings of Númenor. Are their deeds as naught to you? You are Númenórean yourself. Have you forgotten the glory and might of Ar-Pharazôn the Golden? He that landed at Umbar with a thousand ships, each with a thousand warriors? Even the mighty Sauron came then to his summons, and bent his knee before him and pledged fealty to him and gave himself up as hostage."