The blistering heat would have proved bothersome to Beowdil and Belok, but Radagast travelled alone now. The wizard of brown maintained a cooling spell about himself. The spell was complex thus he was unable to sustain it upon three people, however, now that he was alone, it proved far easier. The crag in the distance which drew him away from his companions, was much closer now. Radagast passed beneath its shadow and sensed the air around him cool further. He dropped his spell.
The wizard paused and stretched his magic aura out into the rock formation before him. He sensed a labrinth of tunnels below the surface. He sensed residual magic which indicated these tunnels had been craved not by hand, but with the skilled precision of a wizard.
Radagst marvelled at the shaping spell used to carve the subterrainian maze. However, it wasn't the labrynth itself at which he marvelled, but the unique signature left behind by the caster. "I haven't felt your presence since I left Valinor," Radagast said. No one was present to hear him, but he spoke anyways. The wizard retracted his spell and began to search for a way to open the maze's entrance.
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Beowdil sat on the sand just outside the chieftain's tent. His arm throbbed with a dull pain but he ignored it. The sun was nearly set now, and the bonfire built in the center of the settlement was beginning to rage. Beowdil looked to Belok who was smiling, "I haven't seen a feast this big in a long time," said the dwarf.
"All in our honor?" questioned Beowdil.
"Our honor?" began Belok, "The chief said it was all for you."
"I really don't feel like feasting," Beowdil commented.
"Don't worry Beow. After a few drinks of wine you will forget all about your arm. I for one would like a break from the dried fruit and salted meat we've been living on," Belok paused before raising his arm. He pointed to the opposite side of the circle of tents, "See those butchers. They are carving up more meat than these people eat in a week. You don't want to offend them do you?"
"They should just keep the meat for themselves and forget about some grand festival. I would have done what I did for anyone," Beowdil commented.
"You mean brashly attack a force which outnumbered you?" Belok mocked.
Beowdil looked up and grinned, "yes." he stated.
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The bonfire raged and illuminated the festival. The nomadic Southrons danced to the rhythmic tones of their bards and musicians. The sounds of drums and flutes seemed to keep beat with the crackling bonfire. Belok kept close to Beowdil to translate. Many fathers thanked Beowdil for his courage. As the dwarf promised their were copious amounts of "glory" from which to partake, and just as the dwarf had implied, Beowdil forgot about the dull pain in his broken arm.
Raja-Dahn looked over at Beowdil who was standing by the chieftain's tent. He took a deep breath then turned to Raja-Yursaa. Her eyes sparkled as the light of the fire dance in them.
"The chief has consented. Daughter, you are certain this is what you want?" asked Dahn.
"Yes, father, he is a valiant warrior and a man of honor," answered Yursaa. Dahn looked over his daughter's shoulder at Raja-May. Her eyes conveyed a sense of duty, honor to uphold her people's traditions. He didn't need to speak. May knew what was required of her.
As if perceiving her father's thoughts, May nodded and from behind her veil she spoke, "I will honor you and our people, Father."
"Then let us go," said Dahn. He hugged each of his daughters, turned and marched to Beowdil. He greeted the man from the west with a hearty greeting of Harad, "Kotaw!"
"Kotaw!" responded Beowdil.
Belok leaned over, "I am really glad you learned to say 'hello,' I grew weary of translating that one."
Beowdil did not recognize the man who addressed him, but from over the Haradrim's shoulder he thought he recognized the young woman behind him. Beowdil tried to understand what was said, but the Southron language was beyond his capability.
"This is Raja-Dahn," said Belok, "He thanks you for saving his daughter, Raja-Yursaa."
Raja-Dahn turned to Yursaa and took a cup which she held. Dahn turned and extended it towards Beowdil. He spoke slowly and clearly. Beowdil took the cup and leaned to Belok for the translation.
"From one patriarch to another, responsibility has been passed," Belok translated.
Beowdil raised the cup to his lips, then paused, "responsibility?"
"That is what he said. I may not be a smart dwarf, but I know how to speak Haradish."
Beowdil shrugged and tipped the cup back. Its sweet wine flowed into his mouth. He paused as he felt something solid touch his lips. Beowdil tipped the cup forward and peered inside. Within the wine was a crescent shaped object. Beowdil reached in and pulled it out. It was the curved claw of an animal fastened to a leather necklace. He held the object up and looked at Raja-Dahn. The man uttered something in Haradish.
"Will you accept, as thanks for your valor?" Belok interpreted.
"Oh. With honor!" Beowdil slipped the necklace around his neck, it tapped against Ariel's medallion. The fighting man finished draining the cup of wine then handed it back to Dahn. He turned to say something to Belok but was surprised to see Dahn did not move away as the others had done earlier. Instead he took a second cup of wine from the slightly older woman who accompanied him and extended it to Beowdil. He offered the same statement as before, "From one patriarch to another, responsibility has been passed."
Beowdil stopped moving for a moment. He slowly turned back towards Dahn, "Very well." The man of Dale accepted the offered cup and drank as before. Again, he found a clawed necklace mixed within the wine.
"Will you accept?" Dahn asked.
Boewdil hesitated, "yes," he finally said. He slipped the necklace over his head. It too clicked against Ariel's medallion. He drained the wine and offered the cup back to Dahn, who bowed, then backed away. Beowdil's head began swimming. He looked over at the two women who did not walk away as did their father. From behind her veil, Beowdil was certain he could see the younger of the two women smiling.
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That smile was the first thing Beowdil recalled when the tent flap from the tent in which he slept was thrown open. The slap of the dried flesh startled him awake. A familiar woman entered and set a pitcher near the pile of furs among which Beowdil rested. She said something to him but he didn't understand. Beowdil suddenly became keenly aware that the only articles he wore were Ariel's medallion and the two clawed necklaces. Under the fur coverings he was completely naked. The farmer grew anxious and hyper-vigilant. He noticed the woman wore a long sleeved tunic which stretch to her ankles. Her long, dark hair was down and slightly matted as if she too had just awoken. Beowdil tried to understand her as she spoke but to no avail.
The woman sat down near Beowdil and offered to him the pitcher she held. He took it and peered inside. He saw nothing but water. He quenched his thirst then offered the pitcher back, "Thank you. Where's Belok, can you bring Belok to me?" he asked.
"Belok?" asked the woman.
"Yes! Belok, my dwarf friend, bring him here," Beowdil tried signaling as he spoke. The woman seemed to understand. She nodded, stood, bowed, then left the tent. Beowdil shook his head, "what is going on?"
Shortly, the woman returned with the dwarf in tow, "Belok." was all she said.
Beowdil looked at the dwarf. His eyes were droopy and he moaned, "too much glory?" asked the farmer.
"You and me both my friend," answered Belok.
"So it would seem. Belok, I'm naked."
"Beow, I don't care if you sleep on your head, let alone that you sleep in the nude. Did you have May drag me out of my tent to tell me that?" asked the dwarf through sleepy hung-over eyes.
"I don't normally sleep like this. What in the name of the Valar is going on?" asked Beowdil. He watched as Belok turned to Raja-May and they began to converse. At first Belok nodded as he listened but suddenly he stopped nodding and his state of post drunken stupor vanished and was replaced with alarm. The alarm quickly changed to a smile and Belok began to laugh. Loud and hard.
"Congratulations!" Belok yelled. He raced over to Beowdil and slapped him on his bare back. From the entrance May chuckled nervously.
"Thank you. What is happening?" asked Beowdil.
"Oh, I wish you spoke Haradish so May could tell you what is going on. I guess my translation will have to do. Hold on Beow, I need to compose myself," Belok stopped talking so he could laugh. He laughed for what felt to Beowdil like and eternity before continuing, "Recall last night when you found those claws you are wearing in your drinks?"
"Yes," answered Beowdil.
"That was a wedding ceremony!"
"What?" Beowdil answered, "I'm already married."
"I know, twice now. Or three times actually," Belok said between belly-laughs.
"Explain!" Beowdil demanded.
"That phrase about responsibility being passed and you 'accepting' responsibility and putting on those necklaces. It was those. That entire conversation was an official wedding ceremony, and according to May here, your third wife I will add, it was a marriage sanctioned by both the father and the chief!" Belok was still laughing.
"I'm already married, to Ariel, my wife from Dale. The reason I am in this Valar forsaken desert!" Beowdil stood over Belok yelling. He paused as he felt a draft and remembered he was naked. He quickly grabbed a fur blanket and wrapped himself in it, "Sorry May," he said to the woman by the tent entrance.
"I think she saw more than that Beow. We both got very drunk last night, and I am going to bet. Wait a moment," Belok turned, said something to May. She nodded and Belok turned back to Beowdil, "Yes, she saw far more than that, you not only agreed to wed Raja-Yursaa and Raja-May, but you consummated both your weddings last night. Not bad for your first night in town," Belok said.
Beowdil felt a pit form in his stomach, "but I'm already married."
"That doesn't matter here, a man can wed more than once. To them, Ariel is only the Matriarch of the family, it doesn't make you unavailable. They offered and you accepted," Belok explained. Beowdil sunk back into his pile of furs. Belok could see his friend was in despair, "Let me talk to May."
Beowdil watch as the dwarf approached May and the two conversed. He tried hard to understand what they spoke, but as usual, it was of no use.
"May," began Belok, he was speaking in Haradish, "Beowdil is already married. That is why he is in the desert. He is searching for his wife, Ariel."
"So, Yursaa is not the first wife? She can not be the Matriarch?" said May. Her eyes seemed to light up when Belok spoke. She tried, but could not hide her smile.
"No. In fact, in Beowdil's country a man can not have more than one spouse." explained Belok.
"That is odd. Who takes care of all the women?" asked May.
"Family, friends and their spouses. Look, is there anyway we can explain that there is a misunderstanding here? Can we allow you and your sister to return you your father?" asked Belok.
"No, Beowdil accepted us both in word and body. We are his responsibility now. Should we return to our father as rejected wives, having lost our virtue we would bring great shame to him. At best we would become shut-ins, at worst we would become shut-outs. I am sorry if the Matriarch does not want us, but Beowdil accepted us. Although I will admit, I am glad to learn my younger sister will not be Matriarch over me, she hasn't stopped gloating all morning. Beowdil accepted her in word first, but he accepted me in body before my sister which indeed has caused a strain, since it is tradition for the Matriarch to be accepted first in both cases," explained May.
"I really don't care who knew who first," said Belok, "I would like to know why your father gave you both to Beowdil?"
"It is not right for the younger sister to wed before the elder," stated May.
Belok nodded as if he understood. He turned to Beowdil and spoke in the common tongue, "Well friend, you're married, thrice now. If you end your wedding with these women, you will very literally ruin their lives. I would just accept it for now and learn to speak Haradish. I'll go talk with the chief and see what can be done. In the mean time, put some clothes on."
"What about you? Did you get married last night?" asked Beowdil.
"Me? No, you and your people don't have enough hair for dwarf tastes. I just got blind staggering drunk. Hey, enjoy married life!" Belok laughed again, he threw back the tent flap and walked out leaving Beowdil alone with his third wife.
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