Movement III:
Requiem (I)
“We have lost many loved ones today,” Haldad said
gravely as his people gathered in the hall, cups of wine in their
hands. All
were dressed in mourning colors of black and dark gray, although a few
wore
white. Some, mostly those who had lost family, had cut their hair as
well, as
had Haleth, even though she had lost no one in this battle. Haldar and
Haldad
had not done so, and though Haldar had tried to discourage her from
this act,
Haleth had been adamant.
“They are my
people,” she had said. “I, too, mourn
their loss.” Haldad had curtly told his son to leave Haleth alone,
and he
had fallen silent.
Haldar and Janya wore deep gray where they stood
together towards the back of the crowd. Haldad wore black in respect of
his
people, as did his daughter, who stood behind him and slightly to the
right,
where Haldar should have been
standing, but Haldad had asked his daughter to stand in that position.
She
wondered at that, for that position in her father’s shadow should have
been his
son and heir’s, but decided that Haldad had chosen her because his son
was
newly wed.
Her chin-length hair felt light, as she had always
had a long, heavy braid, but she ignored it as she took Haldad’s goblet
and
handed it to her father. “We shall always remember them and their
sacrifice for
us. Hail the courageous fallen,” he intoned as he lifted his cup and
drank. The
entire hall rumbled and echoed him, lifting their own cups of beer and
wine.
Haleth drank only well-watered wine at her own
choice, remembering what had happened the last time she had gotten
drunk.
Others followed his salute, some toasting comrades,
others loved ones, but everyone hushed when Cullan, his eyes red with
tears,
strode inside and took a cup from one of the serving women.
“I would salute one who has not yet been
acknowledged this day.” He paused, and thoughts flitted through the
crowd’s
minds. Would he salute his son? Haldar? Haldad?
No one, however, came near the truth. “I would
salute the Lady Haleth, daughter of Haldad, healer and warrior.”
Everyone was
silent as he finished drinking, and then the hall burst into chatter.
Haldad
did not try to stop them, for he knew that they needed to speak their
minds to
one another in this.
As Haleth watched Cullan, the warrior approached
her. His bearing was not friendly, but neither was it his usual
antagonism
towards her.
“I thank you, Haleth, for saving my son’s life.” He
drew in a shuddering breath, and she realized how much he loved his
son. “He
will live, whole and unmaimed because of your actions today.” He bowed
and left
before she could form a response.
Malron appeared at her side like a wraith, and she
started when his hand descended upon her shoulder. “He is not you
friend, but
neither is he your enemy. You have done well, Haleth,” he said.
Haldar might have been indignant that a mere
armsmaster dared to speak to Haldad’s heir thus, but Haleth smiled as
if she were
a small child and someone had told her that she was a good girl. She
had grown
to value Malron’s opinion more than her blood-brother’s and they who
had been
once inseparable had drifted apart, Haldar to Janya and Haleth to
Malron.
“I had best leave,” he excused himself when he saw
Arion approaching them. He disappeared as quickly as he had appeared,
and Arion
smiled to see Haleth alone.
“May I speak with you, Haleth?” he asked. She
nodded, and he led her outside. Although it was cold, for winter was
barely
over, Arion did not seem to notice the weather. “Haleth, surely you
know that I
love you,” he began.
Haleth blinked. She hadn’t known
that, and said as much.
“Well, now you do,” he said with irrepressible
mirth. “Your father gave me permission to seek your hand, but I want to
know
how you feel about wedding me.”
She blinked again. In all of her daydreams, warrior
women did not wed. “Arion, we might die
the next day,” she said in reply.
“Janya and Haldar wed.”
“But they had reached an understanding years ago.”
Arion made her feel very clumsy and confused, so she reached for any
excuse. “And
I won’t give up fighting.”
“I’m not asking you to. All I ask is that we be
partners, and if you wish to fight at my side, I will not gainsay you.”
“What about children?”
“What about them?”
“Do you want them? I do not. I dare
not, if I go forth into battle.”
“Whatever you want, Haleth,” Arion answered
blithely, and she groaned to herself. Arion was infatuated and would do
anything she asked, and she did not
want that kind of a husband, if she even wanted one at all. She did not
want to
be tied to an adoring puppy for the rest of her life. But she did consider his proposal though. If she
was to be wed, she would have chosen him.
Or perhaps Gelvar, but never Malron. They worked
together seamlessly as brother and sister, and as leader and follower.
Marriage
would only destroy the close relationship they had, and she doubted
that
marriage could even form a closer bond than the one they had.
“Only after the war is over,” she said at last. “I
will not consider your proposal until our people are safe.”
He nodded, disappointment painted upon his face,
but he said graciously, “As you wish.” He bowed with a touch of
stiffness and
then left, leaving Haleth alone.
“In-ter-es-ting,” Malron drawled from the shadows,
stretching out each syllable as if it were a magical incantation.
She whirled around to find him lounging against a
tree, and snapped, “You eavesdropped on me!”
“No eaves here, but yes, I spied on you.”
“Why?”
“I have my reasons.” When he refused to answer her
indignant questions, she flung out, “Why, do you want
to wed me?”
He stared at her with shocked blue-gray eyes for
one moment before bursting into laughter. “No, Haleth. You are my
sister, and
that is all I ever wished.”
She subsided, but anger rankled inside her that
although she had given all of her secrets into his care, Malron always
withheld
something from her.
“Eventually you will learn everything,” he promised
her, reading her emotions on her face. Haleth let down her masks only
with him,
and he appreciated that, but that would not be enough to give her all
of his
secrets quite yet.
“Haleth?” she heard and recognized Haldar’s voice.
“Haleth?
Father wants to speak with you and Malron.”
“All right,” she called back, and walked back
inside, Malron trailing her. When she had seated herself on the floor
before
him, looking up with expectant eyes, he did not disappoint her.
“Arion proposed to you,” Haldad said. “And I
sincerely hope you refused him.”
“Father!”
“Haleth, I need
you, and not as his wife but at my side. I am no longer young as I once
was,
and Haldar will wish to spend time with his new wife. Malron, I need
you to
take the field, and I want you
directing the defense,” he said to Haleth.
Her mouth dropped open and Haldad shut it with a
chuckle, but there was a faint kernel of sorrow and bitterness in his
mirth.
“I wish that I did not have to burden you with this
work, Haleth,” he said. “Command is not a game, Haleth. Neither is war,
but I
expect you knew that already. Run along now, dear.”
She obeyed without a thought, and it was only when
she was at the door to Malron’s hall that she reflected that although
Haldad
might have promoted her, she would still always be his daughter first
and
foremost.
She was still smiling at the thought when she
drifted into sleep.
“You cannot do this to her,” Malron said angrily.
“You urged me before to let her rule the Haladin.
Better she begin now than later.”
“What of Haldar? He will be jealous. And do you
intend to let her command the archers and the injured? How many will
you
insult? Think of Haleth, my friend. You should be leading them, not
your
daughter, or at least your heir!”
“You know as well as I do that Haldar cannot lead,”
Haldad said evenly. “He is too caught up in his new marriage, and he
cannot
command respect. Do you truly think that if I had a choice I would
force this
burden upon my daughter’s too-willing shoulders?” For the first time,
emotion
crossed his still mask and Malron heard the same bitterness and sorrow
Haleth
had. “I am old, Malron. Look at me!”
He gestured in futile frustration at himself and Malron caught his
breath in
surprise. Six moons ago, Haldad’s hair had been as golden as his
children’s
were. Now, thick streaks of gray ran through it. He had never noticed,
for he
had not examined Haldad closely, and tonight the hall had been
shadowed. His
hands, too, were swollen with aching joints, and Malron felt a sharp
pang of
guilt for never noticing his lord’s ill health.
“Do Haldar and Haleth know?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Don’t be a fool,
Malron. I would not take their joy in life from them for a while yet.”
“Haleth will know eventually. Not much escapes her.”
Haldad simply shrugged.
“Fine. But I’ll stay with her.”
“I need you in the field.”
“Gelvar can command, or Cullan. It will go a long
way to mending your quarrel with the latter.”
“I wish for you to go.”
“And I am telling you that someone must stay here.
Someone with experience, and yet someone who will not take her
authority from
her.”
“I shall stay behind.”
“And if you do, then what? We need you or Haldar to
at least appear to lead the warriors, and they had best get accustomed
to
seeing Haleth in command of the defense. Should you stay, they will see
you in
place of Haleth.”
“Warmer weather should be here soon,” Haldad
allowed. “I can fight then. But you shall and will go.”
“No.” Malron, for the first time in his life,
defied his lord for his lady. He thrust his hand into Haldad’s face—the
hand
that had mixed blood with Haleth’s—and repeated, “No. I will remain
with my
sister.”
Haldad blinked when he saw the scar, then said, “So
that is why Haleth spends so much of her time with you.”
“Both yes and no. I accept her as she is, and I am
willing to let my lady lead. I will follow her over her brother.”
“Well.” That was all he said in a neutral tone,
with neither overt disapproval nor approval but a bit of both. It was
also
tacit permission for Malron to stay behind, and Haldad confirmed it by
saying, “Well,
tell Gelvar to come here later.” He drained the cup in his hand and
handed it
to one of the serving women. “I should grant you a gift.”
“No, my lord. There is no gift I need other than to
be with my sister.” Seeing the hurt in his friend’s eyes, he hastened
to
explain, “Haldad, I cannot explain this to you, but it seemed to me
that when
we mixed blood, it felt like two halves of a whole coming and forging
together.
I do not know how Haleth feels, but for me, there is no closer bond I
can have.
And nor do I think that I will ever find someone to wed. I will stay
with my
sister for always.” Haldad nodded, but it was clear that he did not
understand,
so he tried again. “When you met your Mareth, how did you feel?”
Haldad stiffened at the mention of his dead wife’s
name. They had loved each other with a passion akin to Haldar and
Janya’s, and
he had been heartbroken when Mareth had fallen to the orcs shortly
after the
twins’ birth. No one had dared mention Mareth to his face for long
years, not
even Malron… until now.
He finally answered, “I don’t know. All I knew was
that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, whatever the cost.
She was
my partner, and we worked well together. Our souls matched.”
“And that is how it is on my part. We match. It is
as if a sword blade broken in half was forged together, but all
weaknesses and
failings disappeared under the forging, and our strength was more than
doubled.”
At last Haldad understood. Though Malron and Haleth
might never wed, theirs would be an enduring partnership, and he could
accept
that. So he nodded and said, “Are you sure you do not want a gift?”
“A skin of wine would be appreciated,” Malron said.
Haldad pulled a new wineskin from under his chair.
“The
best we have. I’d been saving it until after the supper.”
Malron drank deeply, and said, “To my lady Haleth.
May she live long and rule well.” He handed the wine to Haldad, and
when their
hands brushed together, Malron was shocked. Haldad’s once-leathery skin
was now
papery and swollen red. They also trembled badly, and Malron wondered
if he had
done ill in urging Haldad to take up his sword once more.
“To our
lady Haleth,” Haleth’s father said as he drank as well, his hands
firmly
clasped about the skin to hide their trembling. “My friend and my son,”
he said
with tears in his eyes. “Will you stand the vigil for our fallen with
me?”
Malron nodded, and together both fell to their
knees in honor of the dead and prayed to Mandos and Eru.
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