The first stars were twinkling in the sky as Faramir rode across the Pelennor towards Minas Tirith. The sight of the city’s flickering lights cheered his heart, and he urged his horse into a canter for the final stretch. As he approached the gates of the city, he put his horn to his lips and blew three short, sharp blasts. Almost immediately, two guards pulled the gates open, and a third sprinted out to meet him, carrying a torch to light his way.

"Lord Faramir! Welcome back!" As the guard approached, Faramir saw that it was Bergil, his friend Beregond’s son. Delighted, he reined the gelding to a halt, dismounted, and embraced the lad.

"Bergil, look at you!" he said. "You have certainly filled out since last I saw you." In three years’ military service to Gondor, Bergil’s shoulders had broadened, and the lines of his jaw had grown firmer, but when he smiled at the compliment, he still wrinkled his nose as he had done throughout his childhood.

"I think I have grown taller, too," Bergil said, "though not by much. But come into the city now, Lord Faramir. You must be weary from your journey, and the King and Queen await you in the Citadel."

Faramir grasped his horse’s reins and led him through the gates. "I am looking forward to seeing them as well. Will you escort me there? I promised your father that I would look in on you, and now is as good a time as any."

Bergil rolled his eyes and grinned. "I must remember to write him more often. Of course I will accompany you, my Lord, if my Lieutenant permits it."

"What am I asked to permit?" A young lieutenant emerged from the guardhouse and bowed when he caught sight of Faramir. "My Lord Steward," he said, "be welcome in the city."

Bergil stood at attention. "Lieutenant Dafyth, request permission to accompany Lord Faramir to the Citadel."

Dafyth nodded. "Permission granted. I do not think we will have so many travelers that we cannot spare you for an hour or so."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Faramir said. Glad of the chance to stretch his legs, he walked beside Bergil, leading his horse, until they were out of sight of the guardhouse. Then he draped his arm companionably around Bergil’s shoulders.

"How does the military life suit you?" he asked. "It has been three and a half years. You have not had your fill of long hours and hard training yet?"

"It is a good life for me," Bergil answered. "I do not mind the hard work, and I dream that one day, I may provide real service to Gondor as my father did."

Faramir nodded and gave a small, wistful smile at the memory of Beregond’s service to Gondor. "It seems that you are a soldier for life now," he told Bergil. "Just as your father is and my brother was. But come now, let us change the subject, or else I will grow maudlin with weariness. I have a message for you from your father, which he bade me tell to you upon my arrival."

"What does my father have to say to me?" Bergil asked with a laugh. Faramir stopped walking. He turned to face Bergil, put on his sternest, most serious expression, and looked deeply into the lad’s eyes.

"Your father," he intoned, "bids you keep your nose clean." After a moment, Bergil burst out laughing, and Faramir chuckled along with him. As they continued up through the circles of the city, they laughed and joked, sharing news of Minas Tirith and Emyn Arnen, until they reached the Citadel, where Faramir knew that the King would be sitting up to welcome him home.

A warm meal and a glass of wine later, Faramir and Aragorn sat together in the royal drawing room, discussing the news of the world and the plans for Aragorn’s meeting with Ghayur.

"I do not envy you this journey," Faramir said. "There was something about Ghayur that made my skin crawl merely from being in the same room with him."

"And it was not even your wife he gazed upon with lust in his eyes."

"There is that." Faramir shook his head at the memory of Ghayur’s visit to Ithilien the previous summer and the initial trade conference that had happened as a result. But there was little time to spend reminiscing with his friend. Aragorn would depart the next day, and they still had much to discuss about present affairs. "Ghayur may represent a problem more difficult than simply lust for the Queen," he said. "Did Legolas send you a copy of his scout’s report on the horse thieves who have been plaguing Rohan?"

Aragorn nodded. "He did. I read it twice, and I am still not certain what to make of it. The description is precise, but it was admittedly written by someone who did not know what it was that he looked upon. I respect Legolas’s honesty in not speculating on the identity of these thieves, but that does not make the task of apprehending them any easier."

"Éowyn and I discussed them last night. She is convinced that the description is of Haradric soldiers as they appeared during the War."

"I see." Aragorn considered this statement for a while. "I admit that the description would fit in that circumstance, and the Lady Éowyn has a keen eye. But the spies I have set in Ghayur’s court have reported nothing to me of horse thieving on Ghayur’s part, or on the part of any member of his court. Though this may be a relatively recent development. Éomer did not inform me of the problem until only a few weeks past."

"Still, I urge you to be cautious in your negotiations, my Lord," Faramir said. "At the very least, we have founded suspicion of Haradric invasions into an allied land. I find this turn of events unsettling, to say the least."

"Indeed." Aragorn began to gather the papers on the table together. "In light of this news, I fear that I will have to extend the negotiation period. I will not begin it properly until I have discussed the issue of the thieves with Ghayur and I am satisfied both that he is not involved and that I have a clearer idea of who these thieves might be."

"I do not envy you that task. How long do you think you will be gone?"

"I do not know," Aragorn said. "Much depends on Ghayur's willingness to disclose the truth about his intentions, and that may take some time. And with the added issue of the raiding in Rohan . . . I cannot imagine that I will return within a month's time." He glanced at Faramir with concern in his eyes. "Are you able to stay in the city for that long? Arwen will assist you in some things, but Ninniach occupies much of her time lately. Lord Peredur will accompany me to Poros, but Húrin of the Keys will remain behind . . . "

Faramir held up his hand. "I will stay as long as my King and friend requires," he said. "Éowyn is quite capable of governing Emyn Arnen, and Beregond is there as well. I will miss them, but it cannot be helped."

Aragorn's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Very well. But if I may offer a word of friendly advice . . . do not neglect your wife. You may recall what happened the last time a Lord left her in command of his home while the man she loved went away to his duty."

Faramir laughed. "I prefer to recall that that adventure ultimately led to my wedding with the White Lady of Rohan. If Éowyn is not where she is supposed to be, it is often because she is where she needs to be."

"Good. I am glad that you think so. And now, much as I would enjoy spending the entire night in conversation with you, I must retire. We will make an early start tomorrow, in hopes of an early return as well."

"Goodnight, my Lord." Faramir bowed to his King. Aragorn gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and they both retired to their chambers.

In the morning, Faramir accompanied Aragorn and Peredur and their retainers to the great harbor on the Anduin, where a sleek gray ship awaited them. Arwen and Ninniach had come as well, and Faramir and Peredur busied themselves with the baggage to give Aragorn a private moment to say his farewells. He kissed Arwen and cuddled Ninniach, then strode to the gangplank and formally requested permission to board from the captain of the ship. The captain complied, and the boatswain piped him aboard. Peredur and the rest of the negotiating party followed, and the royal ship set sail down the river.

Arwen raised Ninniach's hand and waved it at the departing ship. "Say farewell, baby," she said. "Say farewell to your Ada, for he is going on a long voyage."

"But he will return again soon," Faramir said. "You will not be too lonely here in the City, I trust?"

Arwen smiled. "I have my maidens after all, and I have Doronrîn to bear me company. Ioreth has persuaded her to remain in the City at least until the King returns. And, of course, there is Ninniach. She is becoming a little person, Faramir, and though she is not especially friendly to others at the moment, I find that I enjoy her company more and more."

"It was the same with our children. I am still amazed at how much I enjoy spending time with both Elboron and Olwyn." Faramir straightened and turned his gaze to the city. "And that reminds me that I have things to do. I must write to my family and let them know I have arrived safely, and then there is a city waiting to be governed."

In many ways, Thano's life had become more pleasant. He dwelled in a real house that was both sturdier and more comfortable than the old Orc barracks. It was larger, too, and each of his household women had a separate room for herself and her children. Though his food was as plain as ever, he ate from pewter dishes every day, and at night he slept in a bed in a chamber that was all his own.

He also had servants now, and he found that he had many more idle hours because of that fact. Not knowing how else to fill up his time, he would often take his mule out for long rides, passing streams, meadows, and failing crops. On these rides, he began for the first time to think about the conditions of his life and about possibilities for the future.

He and his people were free; the King of Gondor had said so in the days after the fall of Barad-dur. He had let them live, and had even given them the lands around Lake Nurnen as their own, and they had been satisfied with that. They had dreamed of the riches that freedom would bring. But in the years since, no riches had appeared. There were no overseers with whips, and they buried their dead instead of sending them to the tables of the Orcs, but in most other respects, the lives of the People of Nurn were little better now than they had been in the time of slavery. Thano thought long and hard during his rides about what it was that his people lacked, what he should find for them that would allow them to live in comfort, but the answer did not come to him.

Not long after Thano moved to the big house, one of the men who worked a field to the north of it came to see him. "Visitors are coming," he said. "There are very many of them. They ride quickly from the north. My Lord," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Curious, Thano shrugged into a dark cloak that Wen had made for him from one of the many bolts of linen they had found in the storage rooms. The only visitors to enter Nurn since freedom had been Nasir and Haytham and their retainers, and they had come from the south. Thano strode out of the house and drew himself up to his full height, to receive his guests as a lord should do.

There were five of them, great broad Men with flowing hair and beards. They were filthy from the long ride over Gorgoroth, and their chests gleamed strangely in the sun. Thano was confused for a moment, and then realized that these Men were wearing armor similar to the sets from his own storage rooms, which his servants were cleaning. Though there were only five strangers, they had a great herd of horses with them, and Thano wondered at that. The leader dismounted and bowed to Thano. Thano’s heart surged with pride at that gesture.

"Welcome to Nurn," he said. "I am Thano, Lord of this land. What do you want here?"

"You are a blunt man, Lord Thano," the stranger said. "Lord Nasir told us that was so. I like directness in a man. I am Zmarak. My home is in the land of Rhûn. I have been acquainted with Nasir for many years now."

Thano inclined his head graciously. "A friend of Nasir is my friend as well. Do you want shelter for the night? I am the master of a great house, and you may stay there as my guests."

"I would appreciate that," Zmarak said. "And this evening, I will tell you many things that you do not know about the lands which border yours. But first, let me discharge the duty which Nasir laid upon my head some time ago." He turned and gestured at the herd of riderless horses. "I am instructed to offer these beasts to you."

Thano studiously kept his features impassive as he surveyed the herd. Though they were exhausted from their long march over the dry plateau, he could see that they were fine, strong horses. They would plow the fields and pull sledges for his people, and in his mind’s eye, he saw Wen seated proudly on a tall, graceful mare. He thought about the gold ingots in his storage chambers, and decided that he was a rich man. "What is their price?"

"There is no price," Zmarak said, then smiled at Thano’s hurt, puzzled expression. "That is, there is no price yet. You may take them now, if you want them. You may consider them payment for services yet to be rendered."

"Who wants my service?"

"Lord Nasir, of course."

Thano considered that. Nasir had given him so much aid and assistance already that Thano felt he should return the favor. The horses would be yet another debt, but what was one more? And Thano could not deny that the People of Nurn would all benefit from the gift of horses. "I will take them," he said. "We will transform the Orc barracks into stables. For now, they may graze in the northwest pasture." He pointed to a small meadow. "Leave them there. You and your men may come to my house and be my guests for a time."

Zmarak proved to be a fascinating dinner guest. He regaled Thano and the women with tale after tale about the rich, fertile lands of Gondor and Rohan, which lay just west of the mountains. Men and Elves lived there, and Zmarak had heard rumors that Dwarves also dwelt nearby. It seemed that the westward lands were full of green growing places. Thano listened to Zmarak’s description of the gardens of Ithilien and the vast fields of grain that waved on the Pelennor and wondered why his own land was not like that. Nurn was close to Gondor; it received the same sunshine and rain, and had an ample supply of water from the rivers. But the crops flourished in Gondor and withered in Nurn.

He was still considering the problem when he bedded down for the night. The secret, he decided, must lie with the people of Gondor. Clearly, they knew how to farm, whereas the people of Nurn could only ruin crops. He thought about Zmarak’s herd of horses, and slowly, an idea took shape in his mind.

The King of Gondor had given his people freedom, but that was all. No food, tools, or assistance had come their way since then. Thano decided that such a gift was no gift at all. He suspected that it had simply been a way for the King to prove his power over a defeated people, condemning them to a slow death by starvation instead of a quicker one at the point of a sword. Against all hope, the People of Nurn had survived, and they had made powerful friends. Thano had defeated the King of Gondor once by not dying; perhaps it was time to defeat him a second time by acquiring the tools of survival that the King had not seen fit to give him.

And Thano knew now what his land lacked. They had sun, rain, and fertile earth. There were people to farm it, and now they had horses to help them do so. There was a Lord to govern, and servants to assist him in doing so. The People of Nurn lacked only slaves of their own.

The trip down the Anduin had been every bit as pleasant as Aragorn had anticipated, and he had taken full advantage of the opportunity to relax, and rest on the deck feeling the sun on his face. All too soon, though, it was over. The ship had docked at Pelargir, and the King and his company had traded the comfort of a river voyage for the long overland trek on horseback through the scrub desert that was South Gondor. The days had been long and dull, filled only with the endless jouncing of the horses. At night, they would pitch their tents, and Aragorn would refine his negotiating plan with Peredur until it was time to sleep. Much as he dreaded the prospect of an open-ended period in the company of Ghayur of Harad, it was with a profound sense of relief that Aragorn approached the trading post at the Crossings of Poros.

By the elaborate tent village pitched a discreet distance from the trading depot, Aragorn knew that Ghayur had already arrived, and that he would not be granted much respite before seeing the man. He directed his company to pitch their tents just as the Master of the trading depot hurried forth to greet him.

"Welcome, my Lord Elessar," the man said. "There is no need to pitch tents. My people are happy to accommodate my Lord and his party within."

Aragorn shook his head. "No, though I thank your people for their offer. Lord Ghayur and our other guests from Harad dwell in tents here, and so I will do likewise. I will begin this meeting on equal terms with him."

"If that is what my Lord wishes, so be it," the Master said. "I have taken the liberty of arranging a preliminary social gathering between both camps so that all may become acquainted before negotiations begin. If my Lord would care to attend in the main building at sunset, a selection of cool drinks and dainties will be provided."

"I would be honored to come," Aragorn said.

By the time he and his company had finished pitching their tents and arranging the living quarters to their satisfaction, the sun had gone down. Aragorn, Peredur, and the retainers walked to the trading compound, where guards ushered them into a cool stone reception hall. "My Lord Aragorn Elessar Telcontar, King of Gondor and Arnor!" the guard announced.

The assembled dignitaries in the hall turned and applauded his entrance, and Aragorn graciously acknowledged the applause. Almost immediately, he spied a knot of Haradrim in their brightly colored court robes, and he made his way over to them, determined to be pleasant. "Lord Ghayur!" he said. "I am honored to see you once more."

Lord Ghayur, Calif of All Harad, turned around and performed an elaborate bow. His attendants knelt briefly before Aragorn. When he rose, he wore a wide smile that showed a great mouthful of teeth. Aragorn returned the smile, wondering what was behind it.

"My Lord Elessar," Ghayur said. "At the end of the appointed year of watchfulness, we meet again. May our meeting be blessed with good fortune and a thousand joys, and may our negotiations on the morrow signify the forging of a friendship between our nations that will rival the jeweler's diamond itself in its steadfastness."

"I thank you for your kind wishes, Lord Ghayur, and I, too, hope that our meeting will be productive." Aragorn extended a hand to Peredur. "May I present my aide and second, Lord Peredur of Dol Amroth, a valued member of my ruling Council."

Peredur gave a short half-bow. "Your servant, Lord Ghayur."

"Your King's, surely," Ghayur laughed. He pulled a tall, thin man in deep blue robes from his knot of attendants. "And may I also present my aide. This humble one is my Vizier, Lord Nasir, called the Eagle-eyed and the Loyal. He will assist at my side."

Nasir bowed deeply, took Aragorn's hand and kissed the Ring of Barahir. "Long have I desired to look upon the Heir of Isildur. I, too, anticipate an interesting and profitable future."

"Tomorrow we face each other as cobras in the dance of combat," Ghayur said. "But tonight we face each other as equals. Let us have music! I would hear the dulcet strains that soothe the souls of Gondor."

The Master of the trading depot signaled to a quintet of musicians standing by in a discreet corner. They struck up a lilting dance melody, and the assembled diplomats began to relax, pick at the sweetmeats set out on trays, and make pleasant conversation.