Chapter 17

What Could Not Be

Nag Kath commandeered a horse at his house and rode to Minas Tirith. Flor was radiant. Penula and Turnlie were just as he left them. It was too late in the day to visit the King so he took off his boots and let the females pamper him. Dinner was delicious. When they were curled on the couch, Flor said, "I am expecting."

The changeling wasn't sure what he was thinking before that but she had his attention now. He smiled and looked at her. She beamed. "I thought I might be just when you left but I am well along. If I count right; early July."

"Are you well, my dear?"

"I was ill the first two months but that is past now. It must be very tame compared to your adventures."

"Well, all is fine, but there was sorcery, intrigue, love, betrayal, all of the things that make good campfire stories. We saved the Prince's fief and put a few old ghosts where they belong. Shouldn't you be sleeping or knitting or something?"

She smiled and said, "I am fine, silly. And I am glad you are back."

He took her upstairs and held her as she slept. This was unexpected, but certainly welcome. Talereth did not conceive but later had children. Eniece was already a mother. Nag Kath never told Florice that he could not have children; just that he hadn't. She seemed so excited. Please, every Vala listening, let me be completely Elvish by now!

The help were sworn to silence until the master returned. Within days, everyone in the neighborhood knew. Friends from the fifth planned a ritual where women would bring a gift and drink tea with cakes; very Hobbit-like. He settled back into his role as part-time architect and spent the first time in years sketching and painting. Nag Kath had enough of sorcery for a while. The King was at his horse farm not far from where the ferry passed but was back now and replied to the Elf's note to come up the following day.

"You have been away long my friend. Tell me of your time."

Nag Kath said, "It was much like we reckoned, Sire. The local witch combined forces with one in Dol Amroth at the behest of a Lord looking to move up in the world. Lord Erchirion was saved, the villains killed and I am now a Knight of Galador. The healer I took with me stayed in high honor and your Kingship is praised. I brought this letter for you from Prince Imhrahil."

Aragorn looked at the seal but placed it on his side table. "You probably want to sleep for a week but I need to ask after the water."

"All seems well. This will be the year we connect the parts"

"And you, Nag Kath? How is your lovely wife?"

"Ah, she is with child. Her count is not exact but we are thinking near the Feast of Tellarian."

"May that be a blessed day."

~o~

Flor was managing quite well. She would not ride but she walked the levels, only taking man-carts in poor weather. She and cook or Penula still shopped for the evening meal. Just when Nag Kath had reconciled himself to celibacy, Flor reminded him of all the ways they could enjoy themselves. She was a good 'un. After Eniece, he was glad he could love again. He returned home as much as he could. Flor was big but kept walking in the neighborhood. Modern ladies did not always adhere to the convention of long confinement without exercise. She liked fresh air.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Spring of year six called for decisions. At best speed, the water was still two years away. But everyone could now see how this would work. The middle section was complete. Now they had to bring the water down from the collection pool and finish the arches into the city.

Teldamir called a meeting of the principal folk on the aqueduct. He had only done that twice before so this must be important. Long, straight stretches of the primary ditch needed curves. Splaying the supply lines from the Ferantie's rock into the city and the bridge should start. It was time for the ironwork like grates, gates and valves. The main stream had been completely rerouted down the west face of the massif. Now they only had to guide it to the collection pond. It could not have been done before now or it would soak everyone below.

Nag Kath and Heinieth would take the source work. Heronburn had the supply to the city from Farantie's rock. Heronburn's new assistant would ride the line to fit the stretches. The city of West Osgiliath decided on the design that would raise the pipe. Their folk would start that now. They were not as far along with preparing existing pipes but they had drinking water already. Teldamir had the approvals to make all the bits and pieces. Through all this, the Lords never once blinked about the cost.

The source work was good and bad. It was time to punch the gate in the waterfall pool to pour down the cascade. Precision was difficult and rendered moot when a large piece of the side wall broke loose and fell into the upper collection pool. A man went over with it and broke his leg on the rocks ten feet below. He had to wait two hours under a freezing torrent until his fellows could shimmy down a rope and pull him to safety. Nag Kath kept the break from festering but the man's aqueduct career was over. The good part was that the hole was close enough to where it should be that it ran into the pool. They just couldn't stop it.

From the other end, three smaller supply aqueducts splayed away from the Farantie's Rock for the north, middle and southern holding tanks. After having done the big chute, the experienced crews made good time. Pillar men were always three or four arches ahead of the rocking teams. The Mûmikils were now exclusively used for dragging or carrying materials. Then they or teams of mules hauled rocks up on pulleys to the men on the scaffolds.

On June 28th Flor went into labor. Nag Kath was there along with a midwife known to Mrs. Hürna. After four hours of pushing and panting, she presented her husband with a beautiful baby girl; ten fingers, ten toes. He held the child while the Miss Wengl cut the cord and then washed her before handing the babe to his tired wife. Was he truly free of Isengard? It seemed so. Women of Gondor, even ranking ones, seldom used nursemaids, preferring to suckle their own children. There were exceptions, but nursemaids were less common here than further south. Penula was as enthralled with the little Kath as anyone and would carry and change her any chance she got.

After a week of being in the way, Nag Kath rode east again but returned once every week or two for a few days. The child was healthy and happy. Her da knew the best rash remedies. He would carry her around the house explaining the same things over and over in different languages. She cooed and squealed with his faces.

~o~

By late fall they were in the final stretch. Metal forges could work through the winter. This year's Syndolan Eve party was the same gay event as always but there were more water people in town. That meant more ale. Folk here and at parties in Osgiliath felt they were close to something that had not been done since middle-Third Age Kings. Another new thing was Nag Kath carried Helien as the early guests arrived and then took her to Mrs. Ceculdin's house. The old woman thought parties were disgraceful, but she loved the little child. The King ordered torches lit every hundred feet along the aqueduct from the source to the city so all could see it. With the fireworks, it was quite a display. Now there was one more thing; a conversation with the Queen, to honor.

This party had an honored guest. Prince Faramir and Lady Éowyn were in the city for discussions with the King. Always invited as a matter of form, they surprised all arriving in the later shift. Enough people recognized him that everyone knew in time to bow. She was as elegant as ever. He wore fine civilian clothes rather than his usual light armor. Even at 61, the Prince's Dunedain blood kept him looking no more than middle-aged and always fit. Lady Eowyn spent most of her time talking with Flor who she had met before and liked. The Prince wandered around the home with Nag Kath who made multiple introductions to folk who suddenly forgot how to speak.

The Elf spotted his man. Timalen and Marie were nursing cups of wine wondering how obvious they should be in this esteemed company. Nag Kath motioned them over. "My Lord, these are my oldest friends, Timalen and Marie Brushta. Tim and Marie, meet Prince Faramir. Tim, I was just about to tell the Prince of your inspired idea to build sculpture and relief carvings on some of the new water structures … to give them the dignity and beauty of works by his honored forbearers. Do you still have the sketches?"

Quastille taught Tim how to run with a lead, "Certainly. We need to make sure the measurements came in as planned, but they should be ready to present within the month."

Prince Faramir was enthused. "Splendid! Nag Kath, you have been holding out on me."

"Just saving the best for last, My Lord. When we started, I spoke to the Lady Arwen about using Elvish elements." Oh how he hated that term. "Now we have a Dwarvish start and an Elvish middle. I say; let us honor the people of Gondor at the end!"

Prince Faramir would speak with the King the very next morning! Nag Kath gave Tim a wink. Marie did not faint. It was beneath them, of course, but the project needed a little style. And it would give Nag and Tim something to do over the winter.

~o~

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~o~

Spring brought a flurry of activity. The original Mûmikils worked near Osgiliath. The new ones had Gimli's Cascade. The disease season was mild. All the middle sections were connected. Osgiliath was ready first. The headwater ramp took until July. All this time, Timalen had been making the fountains, tanks and lines look nice. He had masons place the blocks and rough the shapes. Then he, his fellow sculptors of Minas Tirith, Osgiliath and a very talented man from Dol Amroth would complete the faces and hands. Both the King and Prince were featured prominently.

Now it was time to test. The first run was the long one from the start to the rock. There were leaks, two of them serious. It took a week to drain the system and make repairs. Then they flooded the system again and filled the holding pool on Ferantie's rock. It worked. Manager Sepulvath kept everyone patient but they secretly ran a test stream into the northernmost city drop-tank before getting the dignitaries scheduled. That worked too, with a few leaks of its own.

After Sepulvath reported he had flow, it was time to make the announcement. The King let Prince Faramir preside over the opening ceremony. This was his fief. Another midnight test was made to the middle line which would include the bridge when the men of the west side had completed their work. That went better than the first, but those were the newest pipes.

The big day came. The rock tank was near full. No one knew how much was enough so they would have to raise those gates gradually. The ceremony would be at the middle line. The Prince and Éowyn were there along with anyone who was anyone in Ithilien and a sizeable contingent from across the river. Mayor Yurbanad put the audience to sleep with his oratory before mercifully ringing a small bell. Men on the roof of a tall building waved a flag and the men at the middle tank raised the gate.

It took forever. People were torn between waiting in silence for the water or listening to the mayor again. The central fountain started to sputter air and then gushed, so much that it soaked the first three rows of dignitaries. The flag men signaled to drop the gate a little.

Osgiliath had fresh water.

Nag Kath was watching from the wings. He was still working. But he was very proud. Gandalf said to heal. Mrs. Skilleth said the same. There would always be fevers in the low ground but not because people had to drink fouled water. Prince Faramir gave a very short, moving speech and was handed the first drink scooped from the central fountain in one of hundreds of cups fired for the occasion. After his sip, he motioned Nag Kath to come over and share. It was the sweetest water they ever tasted.

There was still a lot of work left to do but it was now in the hands men with on-going positions. They had to check the line constantly, repairing leaks and removing debris. Old underground pipes leaked too. West Osgiliath had plenty of problems with the pipe to their home but they eventually got that working.

One of the nicest things that happened was that the Haradrim who had toiled so long and hard were accorded a farewell of their own. Suspected and insulted on arrival, they went home as proud men of Middle-Earth. There would be plenty of private work for those magnificent beasts too.

~o~

There were parties and fetes and any number of events to welcome the water. Nag Kath avoided most of them. He thought he worked best behind the scenes. He also thought people would have less confidence in the water if the last dark servant was the one who pronounced it healthy. Some of that was modesty since he was well past the days of being thought an orc. Timalen was in high demand. If mere tradesmen of Osgiliath deserved fine sculpture, the higher orders of the White City deserved no less! It was time to replace or re-cut all those old Numenoreans with broken noses.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Late fall was lovely in Minas Tirith. Nag Kath and Flor were out and about more often. A favorite restaurant was on the fifth right by the prow. Service was good and they could keep the meat from the rest. On their way in Nag Kath noticed a blonde man staring at them. Florice was a beautiful woman so it signified nothing.

During the meal, a lout shouted drunkenly from the bar, "The child is mine! She bore my child!"

Nag Kath looked over his shoulder to see what the fuss was about. It was the man who stared at them, staring at them again. The Elf was about to throw him through the window when Flor rose and shouted back, "Go away!"

He gave as good as he got and cried, "Florice, that is my child. I have my rights!"

Nag Kath stood-up but Flor jumped in front of him and repeated, "You go away!" Diners between them sensibly made for the far walls.

The man got maudlin and whimpered, "You belong to me. That is our baby."

Flor held her ground but made a slip in the heat of the exchange, "Irvien, go home, you are not welcome."

Alcohol gave him courage and he sneered at Nag Kath, "She said you could not father a babe! Her first husband likes sailors. What about you?! A real man would slay the brat! But you are no man."

Nag Kath raised his left hand and flexed his fingers. A moment later, the blonde man flew across the room send tables and chairs skidding in all directions. Nag Kath held him by the throat watching him feebly kick and foul himself as the air left his body. The Elf pulled him face to face and said softly, "If you ever threaten my family again, I can crush your windpipe from anywhere on earth." Then he dropped the dougsh and looked around the room. Flor was gone. She was running back to the house but did not have the wind or shoes to make good time. She also made a wrong turn in the darkness. When she got home, the door was locked.

~o~

A husband could kill a child born of adultery. It was illegal, but men did it with impunity. Flor pounded on the door crying, "Nag Kath, please do not harm her! She is just a baby!" She rattled the door latch but it held firm so she kicked it and screamed, "Please, please do not hurt her." When no one came, she collapsed at the threshold and cried the cry of the damned. It had all failed. There would be nothing left. She did not even notice the cold. In abject misery she leaned against the door sobbing for her dear child and the hurt she had caused.

Flor almost fell inside when Penula opened the door. She scrambled to her feet and ran inside to see Nag Kath holding Helien the way he always did. The child seemed delighted that da was home to hear her gurgling baby laughs. Nag Kath nodded to the Lady's Maid who took Flor's coat and disappeared in the kitchen.

Florice regained some composure but said through tears, "Nag Kath, please, please do not hurt her. It is not her fault." Her lip was bleeding from biting it so hard outside pounding on the door. "That man …" She was breathing too hard to finish. "That man …"

"… is Helien's father, yes?"

She nodded in shame but was more concerned for her child. "I did not want you to find out, not this way. You deserved better than this. When did you know?"

"I've always known."

Of all the infuriating Elves! She searched for something to say when he added, "You wanted a child. I could not give you one. Your last husband could not give you one. So you found a way. See, here is my color." The finger little Helien was clutching glowed silver. "And here is hers." The baby's little hand shone pale yellow. She thought it such fun and waved her arm up and down.

He said, "I'm going to get some tea. Do you want a mug?" He made for the kitchen.

She nodded with her mouth open and followed him as far as the living room. Penula was standing just inside the kitchen with Turnlie. Both were crying and now ashamed that their master would see them in such a state. He told them, "Do not worry. Turnlie, could you find us some tea?"

Flor collapsed on the sofa. In her world, she could not imagine any man being publicly humiliated as a cuckold without violence or retribution. She would have to leave. He had every right to cast her out and keep the baby. She still had some of the money he gave her but it would not last long. Maybe her sister would take her in.

Her husband handed her the baby who instantly wanted to suckle. She opened her blouse. Nag Kath sat next to her as Turnlie placed the tea mugs on the low table and left. They listened to Helien making little smacking sounds. Flor said in utter despair, "Nag, thank you for not hurting her."

"Flor, this is our child. She is as close as I will ever get to a child. You had the courage to create her and nurture her because you wanted her so much. I will always love her. And I will always love you. Can that be enough?"

She had to let that sink through the numbness. Could it be enough? She knew his emotions were nothing like the men of the world, but that much? He took a sip of the tea and wiggled a finger at Helien who had come up for air. "See, mama's not crying anymore."

The next couple days Flor walked on eggshells. Something must go wrong. Nag Kath sat at the dining table working on ramps or arches or some such thing as if nothing had happened. They slept in the same bed. He embraced her but did not go further. She wanted him desperately but dared not. Would he ever touch her again?

On the third night Flor could not take the suspense and longing. She reached out to him. He had been waiting. Near dawn she said, "Nag, can you ever forgive me?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Can you forgive me?"

He became very grave, "Do you remember when the orcs attacked?"

That was not where this conversation was supposed to go, "A little. I was six."

"While the battle raged I was in a cell on the second level. Every other orc in the army of Sauron was destroyed except me, every single one. By sorcery, I became what I am. When I was sent to my birthplace for judgment, I traveled with men my orcs had maimed and crippled, murdered their friends and families. I washed them when they could not help themselves. I fed them. I protected them with my bare hands because that was all I had.

"Upon reaching their home, a great lord of Rohan gave me his sword. I had served his people. He forgave me. And every day, I am alive because someone has forgiven me for being one of the greatest monsters the world has ever known. Powers great and small have decided there should only be one of me. So when you ask if I can forgive you for bringing a precious little life into the world, I already have. I could not exist without forgiveness."

Flor sobbed. Despite everything, Nag still seemed a boy. She never understood he could only be the way he was to escape unimaginable pain. And he loved her. And he forgave her. It was a good kind of crying until he completely ruined the mood by propping up on his elbow and asking, "You don't plan to have more, do you?"

When Flor finally stopped laughing, she slept.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The next morning he left to visit Osgiliath and inspected the south line. There were cracks in a number of the cover tiles so someone else might have to replace all of them. He also had some unfinished business with the witches here and then had to reclaim his poor house after seven years of unwashed guests. The guests were still there.

Back three evenings later, the home felt empty. Turnlie scurried out of the kitchen and knelt before him in tears, "I'm sorry, Mr. Kath. I din't know."

"What is it Turnlie?

"The missus and Pen, they're gone. Took the babe too."

Nag Kath scanned the room. He had not admitted it to himself, or placed the chances slim, that Flor planned to leave. After the first flush of emotion, he calmed and said softly to Turnlie, "Come sit over here and tell me what happened."

She never made eye contact as she sat on the couch. He took the chair beside. The poor woman's lip would not stop trembling but she managed to say, "You'se away. Pen told me to go to the stationers north o' the prow on the third, you'se getting an important box, she said. Said to stay there all day if I had to. So I did. Nothing came so I come home when the shop closed and they's gone!

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Kath!"

"Any idea where they went, Turnlie?"

"No sir. But they's bags musta been packed cause they took their things and little Helien's too." She sobbed and blew her nose on a handkerchief hidden in her sleeve before adding, "Musta had a wagon or man-cart. I asked Loomus out front but it wasn't his."

Nag Kath had much to do. First was to calm his cook. "You are in no trouble, dear Turnlie. Now, do you think you could find us a nice mug of tea?"

~o~

As the shadows grew long, Nag Kath walked down to the man-cart guild office on the first level. As usual, the place was a madhouse of men trying to squeeze one more trip out of their day. He stepped inside and told someone who looked like he worked there that he needed to see Mr. Sandrous, right now. The fellow looked up at the towering Lord and said, "This way."

Sandrous was in the back talking to a wheel-wright when his junior man walked up and nodded towards Nag Kath. He had never met the Elf but there could be no doubt this was the creature of local legend. He shook his hand and invited him to walk out in the yard for privacy, "What can I do for you, sir?"

"An attractive blonde woman, a toddler and a lady's maid left the fourth, south of the prow on Wednesday. It would have taken at least two carts to move their things. I need to talk with whoever pulled them. The pullers are in no trouble." Nag Kath handed Sandrous a nipper and a card. "There's more for the men. We keep this quiet."

That was an exorbitant bribe. And if the reputation of the Elf was half true, much better than being flung across a room and choked. Sandrous, a hard man in a hard business, said levelly, "If they left in a man-cart, I'll find out. If not, I have a few friends drives pony wagons on the switchbacks. Private carts; can't help ya."

~o~

The next morning came a knock. Turnlie answered it with Nag Kath standing behind her. Without preamble a grizzled fellow in woolens said, "Sandrous told me you wanted a word."

The Elf said, "Come in. What's your name?"

"Willigs, sir." Man-carter Willigs was seldom invited inside but he respectfully took off his cap as he looked about the room. Nag Kath pointed to a chair and they both sat down. A wink to Turnlie brought tea. The Elf said, "A tall blonde woman with a child and her maid left here three days ago, maybe from this house. What do you know about that?"

"It was this house. My son and I carried their bags and the old woman. Then I came back for the mother and child and a few other things."

The Elf asked, "Where did you take them?"

"Just off the gate where the wagons for the Rammas dock load."

Nag Kath followed his answer with, "Was there anyone with them?"

"No sir, not that I saw. But I'll tell you this for nothing; there were more bags with theirs when I took the lady and babe down. Good quality. I see a lot of bags in my trade."

Nag Kath was impressed. Residents of Minas Tirith take lowly carters for granted but they make a good living if they have the right territory. The Guild sees to interlopers. The man did not slurp his tea. "What time of day was that?"

"Near to the noon-bell by the second trip, time enough to catch the Lodestar or the Ithil Breeze downriver. Nothing rowing up that time of day."

Nag Kath took a moment and then asked, "You seem a knowledgeable fellow. Well-dressed ladies, probably with a gentleman, which of those boats would they take?"

"Ithil Breeze. The Loadstar is a, well, not the cleanest of vessels, sir."

"When does she put in again?"

The carter thought first and then said, "If they make for Pelargir, two weeks. Reckon two days back for every day down as to gauge the distance."

Nag Kath walked to the dining table and got his sketch pad. Wordlessly, he sat back down and doodled for a few minutes. Willigs sat patiently. This would be worth his time. The Elf handed him the paper with three quick sketches of Flor, Penula and what he remembered of the man he throttled in the restaurant saying, "When the master of that boat returns, ask what he remembers of them." With that he handed Willigs five silvers and laid his finger along his nose. Willigs slipped the coins into his vest pocket without biting them.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

He was torn. His woman had fled with his child down the river, probably with the natural father of Helien. Unlike most men, Nag Kath did not think they were his property. To follow them and make an impassioned plea or take one or both by force would only make things worse.

Things could not be as they had been. Flor would guard their baby zealously. If it was the same man at the bar; he would cause them grief. Nag Kath guessed he probably had a little money. Did she love him or was he just for stud? Nag Kath wished he didn't care. Then there was what he would do. The water project was in capable hands. Winter was coming. He did not have a lot on his plate, and he needed advice.

~o~

"Hullo, Mrs. Tippi. I was hoping Tal might be home."

"Oh hello, Mr. Kath. Come in. Let me see if she is receiving."

The cheerful Mrs. Tippi disappeared down a hall and emerged with Talereth a minute later. Tal held her hands out to be kissed and said, "Sit down." Tea would be here shortly. The woman would be in her early fifties now. She had broadened a bit and there was gray in her hair but the flow of her movement told of fires still burning. Tal sat herself and asked, "Now what brings you out at such an unsocial hour of the day? No, first, thank you for getting Ectilla on the sculpting crew. Women usually aren't included in that sort of work. Timalen helped her a great deal."

"I am glad. And she did a good job. Hopefully her stock has risen among cultured eyes in Minas Tirith." He tried the tea but it was too hot. "Tal, I need to talk about Flor. She …"

Tal interrupted, "Oh, poor dear. She has not been herself lately. Should I have a word with her?" Nag Kath said nothing. He did not have a face that was easy to read but she divined this was something else, something worse.

"She left, took Helien and Pen with her, probably with the girl's father. It seems they took a ferry down the river when I was in the east."

Tal closed her eyes letting let her friends' pain wash over her. Sitting with her was one of the fairest people she ever met. Floating away was a dear woman who finally had what she wanted and it wasn't enough, or it was too much. If she knew her Elf, he was here for counsel, not sympathy.

"I wondered about the babe."

"It was not meant to be. One Orc Six in the world is too many by some counts. I told her I was glad she had done so. I meant it, but how could she ever believe me?"

"Flor is a very traditional woman who was groomed into her first marriage. It was almost perfect. She loved you but you are no society husband." Despite the somber mood, she smiled. Everyone loved that about Tal. "Did you really plow the dougsh through all the furniture?"

"Fraid so. That's a new spell. I tried to squeeze his throat where he stood rather than drag him over and stink-up the restaurant." He smiled too, "I have to work on that one."

In sympathy she said, "I am sorry for both of you, Nag Kath. Will you seek her?"

He shook his head, "Maybe we were both trying too hard for something so simple. I will miss Helien terribly. I liked being a father. Perhaps we will meet again someday."

She asked softly, "Will you stay, Nag Kath?"

"Through the winter. Then I will visit Dale. After that, I will see the world. I gave myself a generation of men to learn my spirit. Now, I will learn why I am here."

She gave him a brave smile, "Then I will see you many times before you go. Please remember there are people who love you everywhere you have been. Do not forsake us."

He kissed her forehead and walked home.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Physical activity always helped Nag Kath calm his mind, and it needed much calming. He rode Regalid on the plain, shot arrows, practiced sword-play with heavy wood staves to build his control. Painting would have to wait for the right muse.

He would attend to business as well. Nag Kath dropped in on Broughtur and Sylveth Mülto. The landlord seemed to know his trade so the Elf proposed a partnership. He would put-up a hundred Florin to purchase buildings for Kathen Properties through the bank and they could keep half the rent for managing them. That was an astonishing deal for Mülto who readily agreed.

Nag Kath made the same offer to Tumlen who had parlayed his salary and connections into a modest operation of his own. Now a man of 22, he was ready and capable. That included his house in Osgiliath. There was even a pretty woman interested in the short, blue-eyed businessman. In this case, the changeling wondered about his usual lifespan and had the property put in a trust entailed to Hanvas Tur a hundred years hence if he never claimed it. That way if he disappeared for decades at a time it would not be given to heirs. There was plenty for them to share.

Against the possibility that Flor and Helien went upstream, he gave Tumlen a sketch of Flor and Penula to remind him what they looked like. Since he was here, Nag Kath took advantage of fair weather to ride out to the compound. Rotating crews of four men stayed to inspect the works from the Vale four miles west. Similar teams now stayed at the work camps. Every inch of the way was walked checking for leaks and cracks.

He climbed up to the waterfall and looked back at Osgiliath. The aqueduct and the road next to it was a scar across the landscape, no doubt about that. But it brought health. Such was the nature of man; to build and serve their hard lives. Fortunately, no sentient trees were cut. Perhaps Minas Ithil would be rebuilt; though there would have to be a reason to go into Mordor. That might be lifetimes in coming.

~o~

Nag Kath did not have a Syndolan party this year. He could not face starting every conversation explaining Flor's absence, or skirting the subject with people who already knew. One of the latter was King Aragorn who invited him up the hill that night.

"Good evening, Sire, My Lady."

Aragorn said, "Happy Syndolan Eve, Nag Kath. Thank you for coming."

"Quite a view for the fireworks."

Queen Arwen responded, "Those are my favorites too. How does it feel to be the hero of water, Nag Kath?"

"I am both proud and tired. I think the real test will be in spring when folk aren't subject to pestilence."

The King asked, "What is next for you then?"

"I am long overdue to see my step-children in Dale. We have exchanged letters all the while but that is not the same as hugging them. One of my grandchildren is in her twenties now! I even have a great grandchild. They call me uncle to save confusion. Come April, I will ride north for a time."

Aragorn said, "Let us talk before you go. I am overdue to visit the north as well." The King knew Nag Kath would keep that to himself. Yes, he had much to do in Arnor. "We will visit the Hobbits."

The royals and their guests watched a skilled rocketeer fire-off an assortment of sparklers and exploding missiles. As the man was cleaning-up, a candle lit over Nag Kath's head.

Was Gandalf's box of powders still in Orthanc?

By late March Tumlen had purchased three buildings. A friend told him about a good buy in the south of the city so he wandered down for a look. It wasn't what they wanted. Leaving the lobby he saw the older woman of the picture Nag Kath pinned to the office wall. She was shopping on Vue Langaroth, looking up occasionally to see if anyone was watching her. Tum climbed on his horse and rode hard to the fourth level of Minas Tirith.

"It was her, or close enough I thought you should see for yourself."

Nag Kath had his full attention. "Good man, Tum. Did you see where she went?"

"I followed her half a block to the back entrance of the Numenorean. Then I came straight here."

Nag Kath stood up and asked, "Do you need a fresh horse."

"Nay, I pinched one of the Lossarnach mounts from the stable. She'll be fine on the way back."

They rode at a modest speed back across the bridge and stopped a block north of the inn. This was the nicest place on the southeast side of Osgiliath and catered to elite merchant river traffic on the Great River. Tumlen walked in the kitchen door carrying a box and said in a pleasing tone to the oldest woman in the room, "Excuse me, I must have just missed my client's lady's maid, thought she might have come through here."

He was well dressed and spoke politely so the cook said, "Lots of thems round here, dear. What does she look like?"

He couldn't show them the picture without explaining why he had it, but he described her nearly to the mole on the side of her neck. One of the maids who took food upstairs walked behind the cook and said, "She's with a couple got here yesterday. Took the front corner suite on the second. I'm going up there shortly. Want I should get her?"

Tumlen whispered, "Better not, I should have been here by noon. I'll just make my delivery and all's well, eh?" He gave each of them a fiver and laid his finger alongside his nose.

Walking through to the lobby, he waited until the desk clerk turned to help a guest and disappeared up the stairs. The serving woman cracked the door open. Tumlen smiled and said, "Delivery from Chanderie and Family. Where would you like this?"

Without a word she opened the door and pointed to a table where Tumlen could put the shirt Nag Kath bought a few minutes before. He asked her, "Can the mister sign for this? They like me to show that it was delivered proper."

"He's out. And you should know to use the delivery door."

"Sorry ma'am. I'm filling-in for the regular man." A bit sheepishly he added, "Can you show me the best way to leave?"

Back in the alley he summarized, "Nag, she's serving a couple in room 210, that's a suite on the northeast corner. Go through the kitchen to the right and then the stairway to the service doors of that row. No numbers. I dropped a piece of paper by the threshold. Her employers are out just now. He added with a smile, "Hope his shirt fits."

~o~

It was getting dark and Penula was about to light the lamps in the main room when her match went out. Reaching for another in her apron she heard, "Hullo, Pen."

"Huhhhh?!"

Coming from a chair in the dark corner, "It has been a while."

"Nag Kath?"

"Why did you come back?"

She said tentatively, "Woman's gotta work."

"You had a job."

When she said nothing he asked, "Where's Helien?"

Penula knew she was trapped. She aided the wife of her employer in fleeing him and taking his child. That was not completely accurate but he could have her caned to within an inch of her life. A tear rolled down her hardened face, "The child is dead."

He said nothing. She could not see but he hung his head between his knees. Anything to fill the ghastly silence, Pen continued, "Fever got her in Pelargir a month after we docked."

He implored, "Why, Pen?"

"Irvien convinced her that as the child's true father, Flor must go away with him to his people's home, Dystran, they are. I had the choice of going with her or telling you."

"Flor had a home."

The woman was angry in her grief. She loved Helien as much as anyone alive. "Best home she ever had! But you scared her, Mr. Kath. Your magic and high Lords and strange ways! She was never meant for that. Flor is a simple girl and she made the choice that tore the heart from her. A month after that, Irvien picked a fight with a man who kept a knife in his boot. Slit him stem to stern. I was cut adrift and landed with the Belangors. He sold your water men iron bits.

"You gonna kill me, Mr. Kath?"

"No."

"Want to know where Flor is?"

"No."

She heard the door shut. Wiping her tears with her apron, Pen lit the lamps.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath had had enough emotional education. He could have done without rage. An enraged wizard, even a weak one, is a dangerous creature. He gripped his hand until the knuckles were white; knowing his threat against the blonde man was empty even when the dougsh was alive. That did not ease the anger. Deeper than deep down, he had been a creature capable of great fury, more than capable, born to it. Nag Kath understood now that the orc had been purged but the memory remained. He kept it subdued. In his greatest rage since Orthanc, it reminded him what he was.

Halfway to Minas Tirith fury became sadness. Flor was gone. Her life was ruined. Forgiveness would have to wait. Pen did what she was told, which is what servants do. Poor Helien. He might have saved her with a touch of his hand. He dismounted, sat in the dirt and cried. Passersby left him alone. Before he noticed, Regalid nuzzled him in the dark.

~o~

For uncounted times, Nag Kath considered the limitations of healing. One could only cure curable diseases. The patient had to be fundamentally healthy with a wound or a malady that shouldn't be there like a fever or an infection. Frodo's stabbing was a famous case. He was a fit fellow and his body could fight with extra help.

You could not heal someone who would eventually die of the affliction. Eniece always came to mind. When the wasting started, her body turned against itself. He could help her pain but had to watch her suffer. That was why the women who healed had to be so careful. If they misdiagnosed an illness and absorbed a killing disease, they would not catch it, but it could sap their life strength.

Nag Kath rode Regalid at a walk the rest of the way home getting special dispensation from the gate guards. They knew who he was and cheered him. Turnlie was not concerned even though he had not said he was leaving. He was here when he wanted. In cold months she usually left something warm on the stove that would not dry too much.

He ate a little waybread in silence. Nag Kath decided he would only tell Tal what he found. Everyone else could think what they wanted. Tomorrow morning, he would prepare to leave. That started at the top of the hill. Nag Kath had never sought an audience with the King. The first three visits he was a prisoner. The next two dozen were at Aragorn's pleasure. He walked to the sentry on a far door from the petitioners who conveyed the message. It was still a two hour wait but an attendant collected him and showed him to the King's study.

"Good morning, Nag Kath."

"It is a pretty day, My Lord."

"What can I do for you?"

"I have decided to accept your offer to travel north if that is still your purpose. I just need to know when we leave to put my affairs in order. It will likely be some time before I return."

"Two weeks from tomorrow. Best keep that under your hat."

"Thank you, Sire. I will see you then."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Unlike Dale, he would say some proper goodbyes here. There was no escaping that he must always leave people behind. The tyranny of distance or time would win. That did not make it any easier.

Amiedes Tallazh was now eighty six. He had slowed quite a bit in the eight years since they renewed their acquaintance but he walked on his own power and still had youth in his eyes. They spoke for an hour over the fine Khandian tea.

One of his hardest partings was with Regalid. The horse was now sixteen and ready for a softer life than racing here and there. One of Captain Burno's militiamen had just lost his older horse to torsion. He would appreciate an experienced mount. Nag Kath scratched Regalid's ear while he nibbled carrots from his new owner. The day before he brought his favorite of the Lossarnach station mounts from Osgiliath. His name was Charlo and Charlo loved to run. The same size as Regalid, the saddle and tack fit him fine. They spent some time every day learning each other.

Tim and Marie knew this was coming. They all truly believed they would see each other again. Nag Kath planned to come back and he was very hard to kill. When he was here, they would talk old times. He organized a dinner for the water crew. A table for twelve was not nearly enough so they commandeered a corner of the restaurant. He told everyone how proud he was of them, that their children's children would praise the work they did. They were the Numenoreans reborn and they should always hold their heads high.

The last goodbye would be the hardest. Ectillion had just retired and was much at home. Tal smiled sweetly at him and he and Mrs. Tippi both remembered chores they had to do elsewhere.

She had intended to maintain her composure but the tears came. "Oh Nag, I hate this. Parting from you the first time nearly killed me. Now you are going again. You are always the same. It makes me feel young. You have been good luck for me."

"I have been very lucky too. When I return, we will relive the Revanthars all over again."

Her face was stained by tears but she still managed her clever smile, "I'm sorry about Flor and the baby. If they were here, you would stay."

After seeing his friend so sad, Nag Kath debated if he should tell her. She deserved the truth. "Tal, that can't happen. Helien died, right after they left. A fever took her. Her father walked into a knife within a month. If Flor is still alive, she's somewhere on the river all alone, or worse. I left an annuity at the bank if she ever comes back as long as someone tells her to claim it. I did that the same day I filed for a divorce. I pulled a few strings to get it through in a week. We both need to be free for what lies ahead.

"Be kind to her, Tal. She will need that."

Talereth was in shock. She could not cry. Her two friends; come to this. He left half an hour later after restoring some of her good humor. Yes, they would relive the last charge yet again.

~o~

There was one last piece of business. Turnlie could not stop crying either. She had known this was coming too but had the added stress of not knowing what would happen to her. He spoke to her very calmly, "Turnlie, I need you to care for my home while I am away. That could be for a very long time. An account has been opened at the bank to pay all of the bills and taxes and repairs to keep the place in good shape. Mr. Mülto will manage that for you and your salary. You can live here as long as you want and you can have other people live here with you. Just leave downstairs alone for when I come back. I'll put a few boxes down there before I go."

She kept crying but this wasn't so bad. It got better. He handed her a small leather purse and continued, "Here are five Florin. That is for you. I suggest you keep that private so no one takes advantage. Take care of the place and remember our wonderful Syndolan parties!

"I am going to leave in two days. In that bag are veries and some gonboral leaves. I'd like you to make a big batch of Lembas bread before then. You're going to be just fine."

She was now a secure woman but still blubbering. "Mr. Kath, what if Mrs. Kath comes back?"

"Be very kind to her. And take her to the bank. There's a little something for her there too."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~