**The Banquet – Shadows of the Past

  A’ Bhancaid – Sgàilean na Seann?aimsir

  Sienna, July 12th, Year 67 F.A.**

  The great feast hall was a sea of lights and voices, yet I felt the absence of one person more strongly than the presence of all the guests. Queen Celebrian of Rohan had not come — officially because she had given birth to a son only a few weeks ago. But I knew that the bond between our families had finally broken with my father’s death.

  My mother was the sister of the late King of Rohan, Elfwine. She had travelled to the coronation of my cousin a year ago, and since then she had spoken little of Rohan. But I knew her expression when she mentioned it — a quiet sorrow, as if she had lost something she would never regain. In any case, the days of close friendship were over; the Council agreed on that. The kingdoms of Arnor and Rohan were now ruled almost in personal union. Celebrian had no need to renew her alliance with us. Our kingdoms now stood as equals.

  “Your Majesty.”

  A voice pulled me from my thoughts. Queen Alyndra, mother of the young Queen Celebrian, stood before me. I recognized her at once. She wore the colors of Arnor — identical to ours — but the pale embroidery on the dark grey fabric marked her as a noblewoman of the northern realm. Her headpiece matched her gown, though I could not tell whether it was a hood or a veil. Her hairline was light; whether blonde or white, I could not say. Like all members of the royal family, she was tall.

  “I bring my daughter’s warmest wishes. She deeply regrets that she cannot be here in person, but so soon after the birth of her son, the journey would have been too long.”

  “I understand completely,” I replied politely. “A newborn requires all her attention. I am pleased that you honor us with your presence.”

  Alyndra smiled, though it did not reach her eyes.

  “An heir to the kingdom is the most important thing a queen can leave behind. Is it not?”

  The hall fell silent.

  I felt the sting. I was unmarried and without an heir. Vulnerable. Replaceable.

  “Gondor has other ways to secure its future until an heir arrives,” I answered.

  At that moment, my mother entered. She wore a simple gown in Gondor’s colors, her hair pinned up beneath a modest hood. She wore no jewelry, marking her as still in mourning. She had never been a woman who sought attention, yet today she radiated a calm that steadied me.

  “Daughter.” She inclined her head. “A worthy celebration.”

  “Thank you for coming, Mother.”

  She took a cup of wine but did not drink. Instead, she watched Alyndra with a look that said more than words.

  “The envoys from Harad are waiting,” she said. “They are growing impatient. You should receive them.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  My neck tensed. A delegation from Harad always meant trouble. I excused myself and allowed a servant to lead me into a side chamber. My mother followed silently.

  The Haradrim stood in the smaller hall like a dark omen. Three men in heavy robes, their faces hidden behind cloth. The leader spoke with an unfamiliar accent.

  “Queen of Gondor. Our caravans in the south are being attacked. Not by bandits — by your soldiers. We demand justice.”

  “Or?” I asked.

  “Or Harad will restore order itself.”

  War. They were threatening war. And only a week after my coronation.

  I felt the cool air of the chamber on my skin as I studied them. Their posture revealed arrogance and impatience.

  “Queen of Gondor,” the leader repeated, as if scolding a child. “Your soldiers have attacked our caravans. Three times in two moons. We demand compensation.”

  I took my time before answering.

  “If soldiers of Gondor are responsible, they will be punished. But I need proof, not threats.”

  The Haradrim laughed dryly.

  “Proof? Our dead are proof enough.”

  “Very well.” I turned back to them. “I will open an investigation. Until then, Gondor will strengthen the southern trade routes — as a sign of goodwill.”

  The Haradrim inclined his head — not submission, but not defiance either.

  “We expect results. Within one moon.”

  “You will have them.”

  They bowed briefly and left.

  When the door closed, Tariél whispered, “This was a trap. They are forcing us into an impossible position.”

  “Why?” I asked. “If what they say is true, we must act.”

  “They know we cannot send soldiers south without provoking Rohan.” She looked at me. “The southern lands of Gondor have been abandoned for a long time. The Haradrim manage the region, but there are constant border disputes with the Rohirrim.”

  “And how do you know all this?” I asked. My mother had never seemed particularly interested in politics.

  “These problems have existed since the reign of King Elessar, if not longer. My marriage contract stated that Rohan and Gondor would leave the southern lands to the Haradrim to preserve peace.” She adjusted her hood — a sign of discomfort. “Discuss it with the Council tomorrow. But remember: a patch of land is never worth the blood it costs to defend it.”

  When I returned to the great hall, the atmosphere had shifted. Guests whispered among themselves. News travelled fast. The Haradrim were gone, but their threat lingered like smoke.

  I took a cup of wine and looked out over the crowd.

  “I am pleased that guests from all corners of Middle?earth have joined my feast. But I am especially grateful to the noble gentlemen who have come with the intention of courting me.”

  As I said this, I did not look at Prince Alphros — I looked at Alyndra. In that moment, I decided to repay her earlier insult.

  “Furthermore, I am delighted that Queen Alyndra of Arnor honors us with her presence. Her daughter, my esteemed cousin Celebrian, is unfortunately unable to attend. Still, I wish to take this opportunity. My father — may Eru keep him — always sought peace among the peoples of Middle?earth. Therefore, let the events of the past, marriages made or unmade, remain in the past.”

  I raised my cup.

  “Tha mi nam teaghlach!”

  The guests lifted their cups, though the tension remained tight as a drawn bowstring. Alyndra smiled and toasted me; I thought I saw a spark of respect in her eyes. She understood the message: Gondor would not be humiliated. Not by Harad. Not by Arnor. Not by the past.

  I drank a sip as my gaze swept over the hall — the curious eyes of suitors, the tense faces of the Rohirrim envoys, the unreadable mask of my mother.

  Tha mi nam teaghlach.

  I stand for my family.

  But in that moment I knew: family was not only blood. Family was also the land. The crown. The people who now waited in silence for my next words.

  I set down my cup.

  The game had begun.