The two days Khahaynd spent in Linhir were unusually pleasant ones for her. She was not used to having anyone she would remotely consider a friend to talk with. ‘Friends and Family, who needs them?’ she had long thought. It was a view garnered from personal experience. But she found she got along very well with Yaelithe from the start. Without the need for constant competition, the struggle to catch the eye of the Lady of the Abysmal Order, they could speak as they wished of their skills and powers, of their interests. Yaelithe was more adept in gem lore, and the uses of jewelry and of elixirs, whereas Khahaynd was a mistress of glamour and illusion.
“What if we could at some time work together?” Yaelithe had said while they sat on cushions on her floor and sipped at spiced tea. “I deem we could teach each other much, and better than some of the instructors in Umbar Barharbel.”
“It would be a good way to learn. Perhaps, one day,” Khahaynd had replied, though she thought, ‘The Lady of the Order keeps us sorceresses as enemies and rivals, for if a few of us worked together, we could oust her’.
They spoke a little of Umbar, and sites they loved or hated, of places frequented or avoided. They spoke of visiting the Arena and watching the Gladiator fights, of sights and smells and sounds, of the night skies over the sea until both became rather homesick.
“‘Tis but a phase. I shall soon adapt, “ the stranger to Gondor said firmly. Her new ‘friend’ nodded. It had taken her over a year to settle into her role in Linhir. She only had acquaintances even then.
Then Khahaynd showed Yaelithe a simple working to make herself all but invisible in a crowd, while Yaelithe reciprocated with a moonstone sleep charm.
Fun though it was, both knew they must talk of more serious matters. The most imminent being the next stage of Khahaynd’s journey. Yaelithe told her visitor she would be travelling to Ethring, a large village to the north, and a long journey by all accounts over much empty land. Her host there was to be one Tanneth, a baker of note.
“The benefit of such a journey is that you are highly unlikely to encounter others. You can save your strength by not requiring any illusion. You, your cat and your horse can travel openly,” Yaelithe had said encouragingly.
Khahaynd was used to rationing the energy she used in her transformations, but it would be good not to have to do anything to hide herself. She smiled warmly at her host.
Looking at the old map she carried, spread on the floor in front of her, it didn’t take much thought to work out the next stages of the journey. ‘I am heading for the Great West Road, and the Gap of Rohan,’ she thought. She also knew that it involved passing through the Dwimorberg, not that such concerned her.
Then Yaelithe asked a question few of the Order would ever ask. “Does working for the Lady make you happy? I hardly know of her, though I used to know some others of the Order. They held mixed views.”
“Happy does not come into it. It is my duty to serve as she wishes.” Khahaynd picked at some of the cakes just set before her. They smelt delicious, of lemon and orange, and she had never seen their kind before.
“You give the expected response. I just thought…you may be one who sees further than duty?”
They both fell silent for some minutes. One could never be sure if Zairaphel would find out what those of the Order said about her. She had very many spies.
“A word of advice, Yaelithe. You have been long away from Umbar, and this is a strange land with strange customs, but do not ever openly cross or question the Lady of the Order if you wish to live.”
