It occured to that time, when the year began that the Dwarves call the year of Azanulbizar, in which the great king Thrór was slain, that the righteous men of the desert were in great discord with those that were loyal to the Lord of Mordor.
In the end, it was said that there would have to be war, to settle this dispute of whom lord the people of Far-Harad were to serve. When I arrived at Hayabêth, the city seemed as if taken by a fever.
Five days were the news old, that the host of caliph Malkillabad had suffered a devastating defeat at the Poros. But the circumstances that had led to the downfall of the almost thousand men strong host, were still unclear. Some said that those loyal to Sauron came over the land along with Orcs like locusts. Others however reported, that a great sorcerer had been riding with the enemy and would have summoned evil spirits that had robbed the men of the caliph of all their bravery. Only in one point, the rumors were true: Almost everyone who had left with the army was dead.
I remained with the people of this town and there was a chorus of those who were humble before their gods that these Man worshipped. But already twelve days after I had arrived, came the host of the Dark land upon Hayabêth. With a foolhardy attack to horse, the defenders had tried to drive back the Orcs and Servants of the Dark Lord, but hundreds of them had fallen in the volley of the enemy. Almost without raising the blade, the foe's host conquered the lower city.
Already two weeks was the battle going for the upper city and every morning arrived a messenger that called to the defenders that they could choose between a gruesome death or be granted to live on in a life in slavery, should they capitulate and accept Sauron as their highest master and Morgoth as their god.
But not one of the defenders accepted the offer. They were willing to show this horde, that few, that were strong in their beliefs, could halt an entire host...
- From the diary of Tarnairë
Tamrika had brought the jar of water to the defenders. Even the slaves had been appointed to guard-duty on the city-walls and the differences between the free and unfree became more and more blurred, the longer the siege held on. Since almost thirty days the Men and Orcs of Near-Harad were now storming now against the upper city and it was just a matter of time, until Hayabêth would be lost. The rich people have had to open their gardens. It would have almost come to a rebellion among the defenders, as a handful of family began to claim more than half of the available food supplies. Almost three-hundred soldiers had been able to save themselves into the upper city, as Hayabêth was overrun and almost as many women and children and old ones had fled to the otherwise forbidden part of the town.
»Tamrika?« In the shadow of the city wall sat the blonde woman, that the slave had seen to the first time about three weeks ago. She placed the heavy water jar down unto the ground and walked down from the wall over an old staircase.
»You should not show yourself ontop of the wall. Everywhere on the foot of the cliffs are hiding the archers of the Orcs.«
»I am not afraid to die.« Tamrika looked straight into the face of the woman. She had met her often already during the siege and almost felt a sort of friendship to her. The archer had told her of the woods in the North, where the land was green and where there was so much water that neither Man nor beast had to suffer thirst. The foreigner said of herself to be an Elf. Tamrika did not want to believe that at first. She knew Elves only from the tales of the storytellers, and in those they were often evil and devious. Although there were also legends about the wars of the Elves against the Orcs and these told often of the hard defeats that they had dealt to the Dark Lord. Convinced, Tamrika was only, when she saw how the Elf had healed a man with nothing but her hands and song and so protected him from death. Since then was her name, Tarnairë Mirhiban, on everyone's lips, and except for the Ben Kasim, that were mistrusting of everyone, all citizens seemed to tread her with respect, despite the fact that she was not believing in the gods of the desert.
»Do you think, we will have still some time left?«
The Elf shook her head. »Almost all defenders are wounded or exhausted to death. Our enemies however are becoming stronger with every day. When they attack us with all their power, we cannot prevail against them, I thought you would know that. Is that the reason why you show yourself so careless on the wall?«
»They say that the enemy demands from everyone to swear fealty to the Dark Lord and Morgoth. But I will never betray my gods. So I will die.«
»And if there was another way?«
»How do you mean that?«
»The thieves from the dungeons, who have voluntarily joined in the lines of the defenders have discovered an old well-tunnel, that is connected with natural caverns. They lead east, towards the hills.«
»The Feggagir? In these tunnels are haunting the spirits of the dead, that have fallen under the blade of our first Caliph Hairadan. No one humble before the gods would ever enter that place!«
The Elf smiled mysteriously. »Don't they say of the quiet, veiled warriors that they are especially strong in their belief? There are rumors that they climbed down into the - how do you call it - Feggagir, last night.«
»That cannot be. No one of the Ben Kasim would do such a thing.«
»Why not? They are unusual brave in battle. To them, their life seems to matter as little as to you. You Man are such a curious people. As long as you are young, you regard your life very little. But as soon as you grow old and brittle, you clamp to every hour that is left. Look, over there by the gate sits one of the veiled ones. He seems to observe us.«
Tamrika had the feeling that the man sat there because of her. She never had crossed the path with one of the Ben Kasim. She was afraid that she could do something, for which these men would punish her. It was surely better now, if she left. In the house of her master, no one of the Ben Kasim would harass her. Almost in haste she stood up.
»You want to go already?« Mirhiban had just taken out her harp, that she carried about, wrapped in leathers. »Did you not always liked to listen to my songs?«
»I still have to perform an important task for my master.«
»Do you want that I accompany you?«
Tamrika had suddenly the impression, that Mirhiban knew exactly, why she suddenly wanted to leave.
»Are you afraid of the veiled ones? Do they look for you maybe? I have heard how they asked for slaves who knew a way through the desert.«
»It is nothing«, Tamrika lied. »I really need to go now.« Tamrika was convinced that it was better when the Ben Kasim did not see her leave together with the Elf. It was already bad enough, that she was not as loyal to her master as she should be. To be counted as friend of a warrioress who was not even of the race of Men, might have consequences.
Quickly did Tamrika leave the wall, waved only very briefly to Mirhiban...
