Chapter 20 – Of Isengar and Hildifons

On Sunday night, the Fellowship, Faramir, Elladan and Elrohir met at the King’s House for a private dinner. Also present were Sultana Farzana, Sultan Ashraf, Vizier Faheem, Amir Shahzad, Ashtir, and Soroush and Razeena.

“We should have brought some lasses too,” Merry whispered to Sam but his eyes were on Aragorn. Sam stoutly ignored him.

The banquet hall was decorated with all the finery of the household: silk tablecloth and linen hand towels, gold dining ware, crystal goblets and vases with fresh-cut flowers. The food, prepared with attention to the minutest detail, was of both Gondorian and Haradrim fare and covered the sideboard from end to end, filling the room with enticing scents. The candelabras were lit, their golden light shining down upon the room and illuminating the portraits on the walls.

A servant escorted each guest to his or her chair. The long table fit twenty people comfortably, so everyone was able to spread out and enjoy themselves. Aragorn sat at the head of the table, with Gandalf, Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry and Gimli to his left, and Faramir, Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas to his right. Farzana sat facing Aragorn; since Gondor had no queen, the highest ranking member among the guests was seated opposite the king. To her right were her husband, Soroush and Razeena, and to her left were Faheem, Ashtir and Shahzad. Her son nodded politely to the elves seated next to him, but all his attention were for the hobbits across the table.

“Welcome to my home. May you eat well,” Aragorn said and sat. His guests took their seats. “I apologize for the disarray of the house. Just as the city is being rebuilt, there was need to repair a few of the rooms in the house.”

The hobbits waited, curious if the queen would respond in Westron or Haradrim. They were not surprised when she waited for the translation before responding in her own language, with Soroush serving as her translator.

“We thank you for your generosity and hospitality, Your Lordship,” Farzana said. “The food smells delicious. No apology is required. My own palace is often in a state of reorganization.”

“She is not happy unless she is tearing something apart,” Ashraf agreed. “Do not marry a fickle woman, my Lord. Never can they be satisfied.”

“Your queen I could never describe as fickle, my Lord,” Aragorn said, “but I will bear your advice in mind. Now, shall we eat?”

At their king’s signal, the servants each took a dish from the sideboard and circled the table, spooning out the food onto the waiting plates. More servants followed, pouring wine or yogurt juice.

“I would like some of the juice,” Pippin said, smacking his lips. “It’s quite delicious!”

“Is there going to be more of that sticky yellow stuff for afters?” Merry asked.

“Zoolbia,” Razeena said, while Soroush and Ashtir rushed to translate. “We made more, yes.”

“How is it made?” Sam asked.

“You take the starch and mix it with a little of the sugar and some water,” Razeena said. “You add the yogurt and mix it again until it is, um, um… smooth and all the same. In a pan, you heat some oil until it bubbles, little bubbles. Then you pour the mixture through a…”

“Funnel,” Soroush said.

“Through a funnel into the pan in circles and fry both sides,” Razeena continued with a grateful smile to her husband. “Then in another bowl, you mix the rest of the sugar with the rose-water and a cup of water, and you heat that to syrup. Then you soak the zoolbia in the syrup for five minutes, and you are done!”

“My wife told me you were much interested in the food at the feast,” Soroush said, leaving Ashtir to translate. As this was an informal dinner, they were free to speak as they wished. “It surprises us how many people have asked for the receipts.”

“We loved the food!” Pippin said. “Hobbits are able to taste each individual ingredient and spice in any dish. It’s just about the only thing we pride ourselves on, but there were so many things in the food we weren’t familiar with.”

“It would be my honor to teach you how to make any dish you desire,” Razeena said.

“It would be our honor to learn,” Frodo said. “I know Sam has been wanting the receipt for the yogurt juice.”

“Oh, that is simple. Mix some dried mint, salt and a bit of pepper into water, add the whipped yogurt slowly until it is like milk, and leave it to sit for a few days. You can also add pennyroyal to the water if you like. My mother would also put in crushed cucumber sometimes.”

“May I ask, for I am quite curious, are all of you related then?” Shahzad asked the hobbits. Everyone was becoming so accustomed to the translators that they barely noticed them and instead could almost believe they were speaking to the Haradrim directly.

“We are, except Sam,” Frodo said. “Merry is my first cousin once removed on my mother's side, and both Merry and Pippin are my second cousins once removed on my mother’s side and my third cousins once removed on my father’s side. Pippin is Merry’s first cousin and second cousin once removed on his father’s side. Sam is our dearest friend. If it were possible to make him a brother, I would.”

Sam blushed and looked down at his food.

Soroush winced. “Now you sound like my queen! Scrolls and scrolls she has detailing her lineage all the way back to Sultana Badra, first Sultana of the Moon before the Eye’s Coming. That’s over a hundred generations!”

The hobbits grunted in appreciation of this.

“I like your queen,” Pippin said, flashing her a grin. “It’s refreshing to know there are some Big Folk who understand such things. Most of the people we’ve met on our travels couldn’t tell their first cousin twice removed from their second cousin once removed, even if one was serving them tea and the other spooning the sugar!”

Ashraf laughed. “We have noticed that also!”

“Not all Men are so hopeless,” Faramir said with a smile. “It only took two lessons before I learned the difference, I am proud to say.”

“Your brother was not so fortunate,” Gimli said. “Many a night he had to endure the hobbits’ lectures. He even threatened to throw Merry and Pippin from the boat one night.”

“I do believe he was merely teasing the hobbits at the end,” Legolas said. “He was correct far more often than he was wrong.”

Aragorn laughed. “I once woke while Boromir was on guard and I could hear him reciting to himself the relations he had memorized that day. ‘My great-grandfather’s grandson is my first cousin once removed. My grandmother’s grandson is my first cousin.’ He wanted very much to impress you.”

Everyone laughed now, Faramir and the hobbits the hardest. “That is my brother,” Faramir said.

“He did that?” Merry asked though he did not doubt it. He could envision the scene Aragorn described only too well.

“Where is Boromir now?” Faheem asked through Ashtir.

“He fell in Parth Galen, fighting the Uruk-Hai of Saruman,” Aragorn said, replying in Southron. He spoke the language more easily now than he had when the Haradrim first arrived. “Saruman is a wizard who allied himself with Sauron, the Eye. He was supposed to retrieve the One Ring for Sauron but he wanted it for himself. He sent his Uruk-Hai to bring the Ring-bearer to his fortress in Orthanc and destroy the rest of the Fellowship.”

“This wizard knew then who the Ring-bearer was?” Ashraf asked.

“He knew the Ring-bearer’s race,” Gandalf said, also in Southron.

“So the Ring-bearer was not a man, if this Saruman wanted him returned alive,” Farzana said. “Nor a wizard; this we knew already. Neither an elf nor a dwarf, as there was only one of each in your company and so there would be no question of his identity. We come near the point.”

“We shall see,” Aragorn said.

“I believe we see already. You should be proud of your people, King Elessar. They are quite reluctant to say anything within our hearing of the Ring-bearer. However, they are not so reluctant to tell us about everyone else, yes?” Farzana said. “We know where were two of the Stunted Ones during the War, but curiously, no one saw the other two.”

“Then you know who the Ring-bearer is?” Frodo asked, after Razeena explained what was being said.

The queen smiled at him fondly. “I believe we do,” she replied in Haradrim.

“We shall speak of your investigation later then,” Frodo said, “lest we get away from our purpose. I believe Shahzad had a story to tell us, and I for one am most eager to hear it.”

“As are we,” Merry said. He caught Soroush’s eye but the translator only shrugged in a helpless way. Had the queen discovered the Ring-bearer’s identity prior to Friday’s market? Had Razeena only been attempting to confirm her queen’s guess when she spoke with him and Pippin? Or had they somehow known before coming to the city? We knew it had to be one of your kind. What exactly had that meant? The more he thought about it, the less he liked it.

“The hobbit was Hildifons, was it not?” Pippin asked, sitting forward eagerly. “Hildifons was my great-great uncle, the sixth son and child of Gerontius, the Old Took, my great-great grandfather. Hildifons went into the Blue, as we call all lands outside the Shire, and he was never heard from again. Sixteen years after Hildifons disappeared, the youngest of the Old Took’s children, Isengar, went away to Sea hoping to find some word of Hildifons. He traveled to many shores, including Harad, but never discovered anything about his brother. He returned home with many tales of Adventure and treasures from many lands, but no brother. It would trouble him the rest of his days, happy though they were.”

“Where in Harad did Isengar land?” Faheem asked.

“He always called the place where he landed Maroon’s Valley, but that was just a name he came up with on his own,” Frodo said. “At least, that is what he told Bilbo once.”

“Bilbo?” Ashtir asked.

“Another of our cousins,” Merry said. “He’s older than us. In fact, he’s one of the Old Took’s many grandchildren. Isengar and Hildifons were his uncles.”

“Did Bilbo remember anything else?” Elladan said. “A more direct account will be more accurate than tales told around a fire.”

“Isengar wrote down all his accounts of his journeys. I’m sure that Pippin memorized them long ago,” Frodo said.

Pippin nodded. “His ship was caught in a storm and he was run afoul of another ship belonging to some Black Númenóreans, as he would very soon discover. He came to shore not far from them, and they pursued him. He managed to escape them by doubling back and hiding amongst their wreckage. He made it back to the water and swam, for he had learned the skill from the Brandybucks in his youth, in the direction opposite of where they were looking for him. After a few days, he returned to land, but he was still cautious of approaching anyone so near the crash. For many weeks, he lay hidden by day and wandered by night, until at last he came to a house where he could seek shelter. It was the home of a fisherman and his wife and family. They befriended him and they agreed to give him a boat in exchange for a year of service. The master’s name was Aban, and his wife was Fadia.”

“This tale we have never heard,” Ashraf said. “He never learned in whose House he resided?”

“What service was he required to do?” Razeena asked.

“If he did not know where he landed, where then was he headed before the storm threw him asunder?” Faheem asked. “In what direction did he travel?”

“He resided in Aban’s house,” Pippin answered, misunderstanding the first question. “Aban was a fisherman, as I said, so Isengar helped him with his catch and the repair of his boats. He was also required to help build a new boat to replace the one that would be given to him. He never knew the place where he landed. As Frodo said, he made up the name Maroon’s Valley for it. Before the storm, he had been headed to a port called Nail’s End, which some fishermen out at Sea told him about. Aban’s home was called Dawn’s Harbor.”

“Dawn’s Harbor?” Farzana asked. “You are certain?”

“That is the name he used whenever he told the story,” Gandalf said. “The fisherman lived in a very small hamlet off the main river. There was little adventure to be found there, for which he was glad! The river was called, in our language, Swift Water.”

“Swift Water?” Shahzad repeated, looking startled. Even his parents were having difficulty hiding their alarm at this news.

“That is the name as I recall it as well,” Frodo said. “Why? What is the matter?”

“If all you say is true,” translated Ashtir for the king, “the fisherman was of the House of the Sea.”

“Ain’t that one of the Houses of the Eye?” Sam asked.

“It is.”

A stunned silence filled the hall as they pondered the implications behind this revelation. Had Isengar not revealed the true nature of his wreck to the fisherman? Probably not, if he was pursued. So the fisherman was not defying his masters in harboring Isengar, for though Sauron had long been absent from Harad, the Black Númenóreans who served the Eye still ruled their Houses with fists of iron on the belief that the Eye would one day return to reclaim his throne there. They held the seat of the Eye much as the Stewards of Gondor held the seat of the King. To hide a stranger who had run one of their ships ashore would have been high treason.

The fisherman had, though, made a deal and kept it, when it would have been much more profitable to claim Isengar as a slave and sell him for a premium price. Isengar would be considered an oddity, an exotic creature, and would be a prized possession to whoever was fortunate enough to outbid his competitors. The fisherman had honor and more, for it would have been impossible to go through an entire year, nor even a month, without some word of the wreck and his masters’ pursuit of the fugitive reaching his ears. The fisherman would have learned the story from the merchants he traded with, if not from the scouting parties that patrolled the ports, docks and homesteads along the rivers and sea. Still, the fisherman kept his word and protected Isengar from discovery, at risk to his own life and that of his family.

“I begin to believe your claims of Took luck,” Elrohir said after some time, putting down his spoon.

As with everyone else, he had taken advantage of the silence to finish his meal. Now the servants stepped forward to clear the plates and bowls and pour more drink. They would have a half-hour before dessert to discuss matters without interruption.

Elladan nodded in agreement with his brother. “Isengar could have knocked upon a slave trader’s door just as easily or entrusted himself to a man who seeks only profit.”

“Perhaps, yet I cannot help but recall what he told me of his time in Harad,” Gandalf said. “He mentioned the times when the Black Númenóreans would come sailing up the river on their patrols. Often, news would reach them well before the black ships appeared on the horizon, for such was their fear of their masters. Aban would then bid him to hide swiftly. They even devised a place for him to hide, a secret compartment in the pantry – so he would have food to eat if he had to be there long. Yet he was free to go as he wished at any other time and there were several who knew he was there. He survived a year thus.”

“They are not all our enemies,” Faramir said.

“A hundred years ago, mayhap,” Aragorn said, deep in thought. “There is much to consider.”

“It explains why Isengar never learned about his brother,” Legolas said. “I assume there is not much communication between the Houses of the Eye and those of the Faithful.”

“There is none, except threats and evil deeds,” Faheem said.

“And what about Hildifons?” Pippin asked. “Tell us about him.”

Shahzad waited for his parents to nod their approval before sitting forward. He began to speak in the low, measured tone of a master bard, which Ashtir mirrored perfectly, both of their words filled with wonder of the tale. Frodo, Merry and Pippin leaned forward also, eager to hear the tale of their lost relative.

“In a time long ago that none now remember, there came to this land a most unusual creature. Peculiar he was, for he stood at his tallest but half a grown man’s height, and twisting hair there was growing upon his head and both his feet. Laugh and sing he did often and to hear it cheered the hearts of all men.

“‘I come from a land far to the north and west,’ he spoke. ‘There many of my kind live in holes beneath the ground and always is there drink and good food. I departed my home to see the World and meet its people. In what land do I now find myself?’

“A young man just come into his grown years stepped forward. He was Amir Roshan of the Stars, betrothed to Amira Suri of the Moon. ‘You are in the House of the Stars, good friend,’ spoke Roshan. ‘Welcome and may the stars shine upon you so your path is well-lit!’

“From that moment on, Roshan and the stranger, who came to be known as Hildos, were the fastest of friends. Hildos came away with Roshan to the palace and there he lived in luxury for many months. Every night, he entertained the Sultan and Sultana with a different story. Some were from his homeland, often of simple things, such as his adventures with his many siblings. He spoke so often of learning to cook that they allowed him to enter the palace kitchens and help prepare the food. Sometimes, he related a tale of oddity such that no one could believe, such as a wizard who blew smoke from his mouth and could make small suns that exploded in the night sky. He told also many great stories of his travels, and so it was discovered that he came to the House of the Stars over the Sea with merchants he met in Harandor.

“‘So great were their stories of this land,’ spoke Hildos, ‘where the air never chills and the sun shines always, that I determined I must see it for myself.’

“Roshan was glad when Hildos decided to remain yet longer than he planned, and the amir taught the Stunted One all the ways of the Starlands. In each other’s company they could always be seen outside the palace, for the prince took Hildos with him everywhere. Soon it was determined that Hildos brought with him good fortune, for everyone who did him a kindness was well-rewarded. They suddenly caught more fish than ever before, or their plants grew to amazing heights, or their daughters found worthy men to marry.

“When it came time for Roshan to wed, Amira Suri determined that Hildos would join her palace as a vizier to Roshan. A great honor it was and he would be richly paid in gold, jewels and the finest garments. So certain was she that no one could refuse such a service, especially one so devoted to her husband, that she had a room built especially for his accommodation and had several gowns and robes made to fit him.

“She was most surprised when she discovered that Hildos had refused her generous offer and that he indeed determined that it was time for him to leave! ‘Why do you abandon us so?’ she questioned. ‘So kindly we have treated you, have we not? Yet you would refuse the greatest honor we can bestow upon you.’

“‘My Amira,’ spoke Hildos, bowing, ‘great is your beauty and generosity, and great is my love for your husband. Happily I have lived here these many months and happily I could have remained but to see the joy between you and your amir. You may provide for me in every way, but still there will be none of my kind among you and I long greatly for my homeland and a family of my own. I will relate to my homeland the joys of this land and its glorious amira, daughter of the Moon, radiant as the night sky.’

“‘Then go, dearest Hildos, by the swiftest road and safely. I pray for you so that you may see your homeland again,’ spoke Suri. She kissed him and gave to him the talisman of Luna, the Moon goddess. ‘Carry this with you, for it will bring you protection.’

“A month passed before Hildos departed. He took with him his greatest treasures. This did not include, as you would suppose, the gold, jewels and garments given him by Amira Suri, though some of these he took for trade. Instead, his treasures as he determined them were a wooden horse which Roshan had made him, a rock carved into a starburst by a slave girl whom he had befriended, a necklace of bird feathers he had won in a game of chance, and a blanket given him which had once belonged to Roshan in his youth.

“Roshan went with him to see him on his road. Hildos had determined to say farewell to his friends in the Starlands before departing, so they went first to House of the Stars and there Hildos had many happy farewells. At last, they departed for the road to the Sea. Roshan and Hildos said their farewells at the road, for Roshan must return to his beloved’s side as a great feast was about to commence in the Moonlands for the Longest Night, which was swiftly approaching. Hildos departed under the moonlight and he would reach the Sea in three nights, or so it was thought.

“In the morning when Roshan broke his camp, he spotted on the ground the talisman of Luna. Then a great fear swept through him for his friend was traveling unprotected from the night creatures! Roshan hurried to meet his friend but fate delivered him too late! Hildos had been met upon the road by a deadly asp. Bitten and many leagues from the nearest shaman, Roshan could only hold his friend in his arms until the end, both of them waiting until the poison did its evil work. When his final breath left him, Hildos smiled and said, ‘I am home.’

“So ends the tale of Hildos, also called Tukos, the Stunted One, greatest of the friends of the Moon and the Stars.”

Shahzad reached into his robes and withdrew a small amulet on a length of cord. “The wise-woman bade me to bring this with me. Long it has been displayed in my home, along with trophies of my ancestors. It is said that Hildos wore this and upon his death, Roshan then wore it. It is said to be a memento for Hildos of his homeland.”

Shahzad stood and with great reverence handed it across the table to Merry, who gasped when he saw it. He gave it to Pippin, who showed it to Frodo and they too gasped.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

Pippin held up the medallion for all to see. Sam peered at it closely. It was a small disc of gold, greatly worn by the years, but still there could be seen some detail of the crest upon its face. Sam recognized the stamp of the drawn crossbow over the rolling hills of the Green Hill Country, for he had seen it many times during their Conspiracy the previous spring.

“It’s the medallion of the Thain,” Pippin said. “It once belonged to the Old Took. I read in his journals once that he gave this to Hildifons when he left for his Adventures. Since Gerontius couldn’t talk him out of it, he gave the medallion to Hildifons to remind him to come home some day.”

“But that is handed down from Thain to Thain,” Merry said. “Your father has one. I’ve seen it.”

“Gerontius had a second one made after Isengar returned and it became apparent that Hildifons would never come back,” Pippin said.

“What did he give Isengar when he left the Shire?” Frodo asked.

“A map.”

“What is a Thain?” asked Soroush.

“He is our version of a Steward, but he does not rule the Shire,” Frodo said. “He commands only the Shire Muster and the Hobbitry in Arms in times of emergency.”

“Who then rules the Shire?” asked Faheem.

“Now that the King has returned, I suppose that would be Aragorn,” Frodo said and grinned. “No one will ever believe it!”

“Likely they won’t, after so long an absence,” Aragorn agreed.

“Have any more of Hildifons’s things survived the years?” Pippin asked. “You said he was bringing treasures home, the wooden horse and other items. What happened to those?”

“It is said that the garments were given out to the children of the palace,” Farzana said through Soroush. “The gold was returned to the treasury. The items he considered his treasures were put with the amulet in the Great Hall. I assume they are still there?” She looked narrowly at her son.

Shahzad blushed. “Yes Mother.”

“We will forward them to you upon our return,” Farzana said.

“There is no need,” Pippin said. “This medallion is the only treasure I require. I thank you for bringing it.”

“Did he not keep a journal? A book of writings?” Merry asked. “Our families would wish that to be returned as well, if there is one.”

“It is possible,” Ashraf said in wonderment. “In fact, I once found a small book in the archives with markings unlike any I had seen before. I have not thought of it in years. Perhaps that is it!”

“If you can find it again, and Soroush or Ashtir can verify its authenticity, then forward it here,” Frodo said. “We will receive it eventually.”

“It shall be done,” promised Ashraf.

“Now there is something I want to know,” Merry said as the servants returned with the dessert. “My fellow Riders were speaking the other day of the rumors they had heard of Harad growing up. They named one thing in particular but refused to explain it to me. I thought perhaps you could tell me. What are eunuchs?”

Several of the Gondorian servants nearly dropped their plates. Faramir choked on his wine; Elladan reached over and patted his back. Aragorn grimaced and Gandalf muttered something about horse breeders with soiled minds. Elrohir, Legolas and Gimli looked as lost as the hobbits. Soroush and Ashtir shifted uncomfortably and poked at their food. Farzana’s eyes gleamed with amusement, but her husband, son and vizier were all baffled without a translation.

“This I can explain to you,” said Razeena, when her husband and Ashtir continued their silence.

An illuminating half-hour passed, after which the hobbits sat in shock, their desserts untouched, and gaped at the Haradrim before them. Finally, Frodo cleared his throat.

“Perhaps that explains why Hildifons decided to return home all of a sudden,” he said, avoiding Faheem’s eyes. “Had he known what would have happened though…”

“He still would have chosen the snake,” Pippin said. “Better to die intact than to live with a broken p—.”

“Pippin!” Merry groaned, wishing he had never asked the question. He should have listened to Erkenbrand.

To be continued…

GF 6/20/09
Published 7/19/09