It is one of Marek’s associates.
Chapter 16: The Marriage[edit]
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After the Rhûn envoy left the Great Hall, Aran followed Marek to the prince’s private apartment. “The civil war brewing in Rhûn did not surprise you. Somehow I suspect your hand in the unrest.”
“You give me much credit, Lord Aran,” Marek placed his hands behind his back and moved to the balcony that overlooked the city below. “I believe Faramir will benefit from Neerai’s guidance. Until the wedding, Neerai will tend to Faramir’s personal needs. Before you object, Neerai knows my consort must remain a virgin.”
“Neerai? Have you any idea what Neerai will...” Aran’s eyes narrowed, irritated how vindictive the prince could be when his ego was bruised. “Now that you have dismissed me, I shall....”
“Dismissed?” Marek turned, staring at his advisor. “I have not dismissed you.”
“Unlike Faramir, I will not accept or suffer your insults. Nor am I ignorant of the reason behind Neerai’s use. It is yet another shameless attempt to degrade Faramir. I no longer will remain where I have no control.” Aran turned to leave. “Tell me, after you have married Faramir what becomes of him?”
“After we have spoken our vows, I plan to enact the Rite of Hazalan.”
Aran’s eyes widen, shocked Marek had learned the ancient ritual. “Prince Marek, never have I begged you, but I do so now. The Rite of Hazalan is barbaric. Your ancestors banned the practice. Never was...”
“I have spoken. Lord Aran need I remind you of the penalty if my plans are revealed.” Marek warned, glaring at the advisor with renewed intensity.
Aran nodded, understanding the prince’s warning. However, he still believed the marriage would work. He had only to convince Marek. “On the ship, I told you Faramir would grow to love you if only you would show him...”
“Show him affection? Spare me the barb, Lord Aran. I am not amused. Gondor agreed to this marriage for one reason. Deception. Faramir pretends to be betrothed to me so he might spy for Aragorn. When the Gondorians arrive for the wedding, Aragorn will demand the ceremony halted and Faramir returned to Gondor. However, the wedding will proceed as planned.”
“If what you believe is true why precede with the wedding?”
“Pride. Vanity. I never believed Aragorn would accept my terms for a treaty between our two countries. When Denethor agreed so quickly, I should have suspected a trick. Aragorn knew of my obsession with Faramir and used it against me.” Marek cleared his throat, smiling like a guilty child. “However, in two days, Gondor’s deception shall have repercussion Aragorn never believed possible.”
“What of Neerai?”
“Dismiss him. Resume your duties tutoring my consort. However, as the Rite of Hazalan dictates, Faramir must not be prepared for consummation.”
“What more do you demand Faramir sacrifice? He has done more...”
“Do not provoke me, Lord Aran. I know you have grown fond of him. Nevertheless Faramir is mine, not yours. You would do well to remember that.”
Aran bowed, leaving the prince to his revenge. He returned to Faramir’s quarters and found Neerai holding a hand to his bloody nose. “Neerai, Prince Marek has dismissed you,” he said, acting as if nothing was different. “Return to your station.” He waited until the man stumbled out of the room before raising a questioning brow. “Should I ask?”
“He touched me. He...” Faramir’s face turned red with embarrassment. “I hit him.”
“Obviously.” Aran moved to a chair and pointed to another, instructing Faramir to occupy. During the next two days, the two were inseparable. Meals and stories were exchanged, and as the marriage day drew near, Aran prayed to the Gods that something would prevent the marriage from occurring.
Festive music played, and dancers finished their performances while waiting for the wedding to begin. Only those of noble blood, and invited foreign entourages were allowed to attend the wedding. Citizens waited outside the high walls, gathering in the streets trying to hear the ceremony. Most would have to rely on Umbar’s large tower bells to announce to the populace that their crown prince had been married.
Greeting each Lord of Harad and Umbar’s allies, Marek personally thanked them for their loyalty, attendance and wedding gifts before he emerged from the palace. Dressed in a long gold robe, the crown jewels, and escorted by his powerful allies, Marek walked across the large courtyard.
The day was perfect. A brisk sea breeze blew into the courtyard, keeping the heat to an almost tolerable level. Marek’s only regret, his father, King Makil, could not attend the wedding due to a prior comment to Ramlond. Though the king made his displeasure known, he offered his blessing for the union, if only to pacify his spoiled son.
Marek nodded briefly at Aragorn, Denethor and the Gondorian entourage before continuing his trek to the center of the courtyard where Suladän stood atop a small dais ready to preside over the ceremony.
The old chieftan nodded, waiting until Marek knelt on a large pillow before he signaled for the consort’s entrance.
Aran proudly escorted Faramir to the dais, guiding him to a pillow on Marek’s right. The crown prince glanced briefly at his consort’s clothing admiring how the garment enhanced Faramir’s features. He would have to reward the tailors for their talent. Having not seen Faramir since the incident with Lord Fezel, he had given the tailors free reign to dress his consort. Expense had been no option.
Suladän slowly descended the steps and placed a hand on each head of the knelt men. “Lord Aran, confirm the branding. Have you marked the consort?”
“It has been completed, as witnessed by Prince Marek.”
Suladän reached under Faramir’s chin, lifting the young man’s head. “State your vow.”
Faramir took a deep breath, and spoke the sacred vow Aran had taught him. “Prince Marek, I give my life and body to you. Honor, respect and obedience do I eternally swear. My destiny forever entwined with yours.”
Suladän nodded, impressed with the young man’s demeanor. If those in attendance expected Faramir to make a mockery of himself they were disappointed. The vow had been recited perfectly. Suladän turned to the crown prince. “Prince Marek?”
Marek placed his hand on Faramir’s shoulder, utilizing the opportunity to begin his vendetta. “Denounce your Gondorian heritage.”
Silence descended on the crowd, Faramir glanced nervously at Aran for assistance. The advisor glared angrily at the crown prince before nodding reluctantly. Aragorn and several Lords of Gondor jumped to their feet, protesting the demand unreasonable.
Marek grinned, rising to his feet. Aragorn’s protest only confirmed what he suspected. Faramir was a spy. “Gondor protests because...”
“I denounce my Gondorian heritage, and Gondor itself,” Faramir said, fighting back tears as Marek’s mouth dropped open in shock. The crown prince was stunned, Faramir not only denounced Gondor but forever marked himself a Gondorian traitor.
Suladän cleared his throat, and Marek returned to his kneeling position unable to comprehend what had just transpired. 'What more do you demand Faramir sacrifice?' Aran's words repeated in his mind. Marek managed to finish his vow without incident. “I accept your vow. Umbar recognizes you as its own. Forever shall you be ours.”
“The vows have been spoken. Bring forth the ceremonial symbols.” Suladän signaled both men to raise. A man dressed in a dark blue hooded robe approached carrying the wedding ceremonial symbols and a dagger on a gold platter. “Your right hand, consort.” Suladän instructed, picking up the small dagger. He pricked Faramir’s finger and squeezed several droplets of blood onto the platter. The chieftan repeated the procedure with Marek before he dipped his fingertip into the blood, touching each man’s forehead with it. “This union has been sealed in blood. Prince Marek, the ring.”
Marek took Faramir’s hand and slipped a gold ring on his finger. “With this ring, I decree you, Lord Faramir, my consort and possession.”
“I declare your marriage sealed, Prince Marek.” Suladän announced. “What words do you speak as husband to Lord Faramir?”
Marek bowed to Suladän, glanced at a very anxious Aran before turning to his consort. “As crown prince of Umbar, I enact the Rite of Hazalan. The ancient ritual of consummating a marriage on the Great Hall’s marble table. In accordance to the ritual, the Lords of Harad have conjugation selections.”
Faramir’s gazed expression revealed the shock he suffered. Marek signaled several guards to escort Faramir back to his quarters. The fallout started.
Suladän clearly disapproved but kept his silence and Aran stormed out of the ceremony.
Several lords of Harad argued for position selection in the ritual, while Aragorn shoved his way through the quarreling lords. “You dare disrespect Gondor with this cruelty? I will not permit Faramir to suffer this decrepit perversion.”
“You are mistaken, your Majesty. This is Umbar. You have no power here. Faramir gave himself to me in marriage. Under our law, he must obey without question.” Marek grinned wickedly, watching the blood drain from Aragorn’s face. “However, I am a generous man. After the lords have had their turn, I will command the consort’s legs spread for you.”
“You sick bastard,” Aragorn muttered, walking away in disgust.
Marek turned to the lords of his realm. “A celebration, my friends. Enjoy the festivities. I wish to prepare for the post wedding ceremony.” He hurried back inside the palace, unable to contain his laughter.
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