Nag Kath

by Gelansor

This is a sequel to The Lord of the Rings following a released prisoner at the beginning of the Fourth Age. He has to adapt to changes in his world and in himself as Middle-earth copes with life after the dark lords. All chapters have been loaded as of 2/9/2020. Reviews welcome. Thanks for looking, sh

19. Chapter 19 It Couldn

Chapter 19

It Couldn't Stay the Same

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Dale seemed warm and familiar. It was up in the world too, at least, someone had painted the storefronts. Nag Kath walked Charlo through the dock market as folk hurried to finish their business for the day. Even more than Osgiliath, there was always a confusion of languages, often spoken at the top of someone's voice. People looked at him but he didn't see anyone he knew.

His house had a new coat of paint too. It was locked and no one answered the knocker so he made his way up the hill to Brenen's new home. It was a large, two-story with balconies on the upper floors and a sizeable personal garden. He clicked along the flagstones and rapped on the door.

An elderly cove he didn't recognize opened and smiled before hearing, "Good day. I am Nag Kath to see Brenen. I believe I am expected."

"Of course, Mr. Kath. Please come inside."

The entryway opened into a spacious, main room with large windows on three sides. The steward said he was welcome to have a seat and would let Mr. Brenen know he was here. Nag Kath remained standing expecting the bear-hug he got moments later when his old protégé bounded from a hallway. Released, Brenen stepped back and said, "It is good to see you, my friend. I wasn't expecting you for another month."

"Things went my way with the usual assortment of strange stories. How are you?"

~o~

Brenen was much rounder than in FoA 20. When the creators imagined Northmen, it was not eating three squares a day and living in a heated home. Now in his mid-forties, his hair was still full with a trimmed beard showing a little gray. The robust Dale businessman said, "I am just fine. By the stars, it is good to see you. Let us have some introductions."

The man walked back down the hallway and reemerged with an assortment of relatives. All bowed to him except Brenen's wife Nedille who ran over for a kiss. "Oh dear Nag Kath. Welcome home." She turned and said, "You remember Renelda, don't you?"

"I do indeed. Hello Bugs."

A tall woman in her mid-twenties came forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Welcome home, Uncle Nag. This is my brood." She wagged her hand to bring two children forth from the hall jamb. "Children, this is Uncle Nag. Nag Kath, these are Aleurn," pointing to a seven-year old girl who looked just her mother, "and this is Brenald." That was for a four-year old boy who stood with his arms crossed, no doubt because this stranger was getting all of his attention.

Nag Kath walked to them and offered his hand. The girl took it with a smile and a curtsy. The little boy wasn't sure what this meant. He glanced at his grandda who mimed shaking. He offered his little hand as if to a dragon. Nag Kath took it gently and looked him in the eye. "Glad to meet you, young man."

That brought a giggle, though the tyke rubbed his hands together as if to remove whatever they had touched. Brenen said, "Renelda and Luther are staying here until their new place is finished. Have you been home yet?"

"I stopped by but it was locked."

Brenen thought this was a good time to catch-up so he pronounced, "Dear, we're going to walk down to Nag's house." Looking at Nag Kath, "You'll come for dinner, of course?"

"Wouldn't miss it." Brenen rummaged through a drawer full of keys with little string-tags and dropped one in his vest pocket. Taking a gentleman's cane and his hat from the stand by the front door, Brenen gestured for his guest to go first.

Charlo was not used to cobblestones so walking with Brenen was a good way to get the Lossarnach horse used to the slight slip and catch. Brenen said, "Are you just back?"

"Yes, I came home and then went to your place straight away. You have a lovely house."

"Thank you. We like it. It has come in handy with extra room for family. I've got five grandkids now and another on the way. Life had been very good, Nag. I owe you a great deal."

"You earned it, my friend. I suppose I'll need to ask you a thousand questions about how everyone is doing since I've been gone, starting with your mother."

"She is strong. Her husband died three, is it three, yes, three years ago. Nedille and I are talking about buying the little house just to our left for her. The big place is too much now. I am fortunate. They get on well so it will be good to have her close. She can keep an eye on the little ones too."

Brenen hopped a pot hole and continued, "I suppose I should ask; will you be here a while?"

"I plan to be. I'll always leave for stretches but I think close for a year or two. Before fall I'll make for the Buhr, though. I've been getting regular letters from Ardatha too. Working down the list, how are the King and Queen?"

"I only see them once or twice a year. She is always the picture of health. King Bard is not doing so well. He is sixty four, something like that, and is rumored to have trouble with his heart. Friends in high places say he seldom stands or meets people for more than half an hour without a rest. The thainmoot has been postponed a year. Now, their son Bain is a man grown and by all accounts, a worthy successor. I like him."

Nag Kath said, "I will send them a note now that I am back. Rosscranith too, though I saw him until he left Minas Tirith, when, a couple years ago. He's a good 'un. Tell me of the Brightens brothers."

"Fit as fiddles! No one has Syndolan Eve parties like we used to throw but they can be counted on as quality guests. Still live in the same place."

"I'll wander around and see everyone. How about Moaan?" Brenen pulled a blank. "Miss Quessan, the healer?"

"Oh, no idea. Haven't seen her in years."

~o~

They arrived at Nag Kath's house. Brenen played with the lock while the Elf took his packs off Charlo. Inside was just like he left it. Brenen said, "An older couple works for the company. They clean and care for a dozen places. Calather still does the fixing-up. Gave the outside a coat of stain last year." Brenen walked into the middle of the large room and turned in a circle. "I haven't been here since you left. Do I need to get you a cook?"

"Good idea, thought it will be hard to find someone as good as your ma."

"Bard's wife knows everyone. We should stop at the office on the way back so you can say hello."

Nag Kath nodded and walked around the room. Then he bounded up the stairs to the bedrooms and storage area. All his drawings and paintings were there, covered by a sheet. He would thumb through them at leisure. He went back down to the man he considered a son and put his arm around his shoulder.

There being nothing else to do there for now, Brenen locked-up, handed Nag Kath the key as they walked outside. Brenen said, "Stable's still there. Want to see to this handsome fellow?" Charlo was left with promises of evening oats and the two friends walked west a few blocks to the office of Kathen Properties. Brenen's cousin Bard had managed the day-to-day operations since before Nag Kath left.

Bard gave the Elf a hug no less grand than Brenen. Unlike his stout cousin, Bard had kept his figure and remained a handsome man. It was Bard who introduced the two partners. It seemed their shares of Kathen had done well. His wife was in the little kitchen making a pot of tea when she heard the commotion and came out for a kiss. Their son was on the building crew. One daughter married the heir of the Chandler's Guild elector and the younger girl still lived at home.

Since tea was ready, Rosalin fetched it along with a little pot of honey in the local tradition. As Brenen had done, Bard asked, "Are you back for a while, Nag?"

"It seems so. I did a large building project for King Aragorn and Prince Faramir in Gondor. That went well but took eight years. Alas, my marriage did not fare so well, but now I am free as a bird."

Rosalin, always a cheerful and never timid woman asked, "Are you still a sorcerer?"

Nag Kath grinned and said, "Worse than ever, I fear. And I've met even more dangerous types in my travels. Please, though, let us keep that to ourselves. For now, I am just Uncle Nag the peculiar Half-Elven. I will tell you this; I got a supply of Gandalf's firework powders in Orthanc. If I can figure-out how to use them without burning down the house, we will have a Syndolan Eve party in the old style!"

Everyone thought that a capital idea. Brenen asked Rosalin to send someone round about cooking and keeping Nag Kath's household. Two women came to mind who were either available or might be looking for a change of scenery. The Elf asked her to mention that his habits were irregular.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

At dinner, Brenen had already told Nedille to leave mention of magic to Uncle Nag. They had plenty of other things to discuss. If you could imagine, she was on the flower committee, knowing full-well the unlikely turn of events that brought the Elf to the royal family. Their home was not in the most stylish part of Dale but they were among the wealthier folk in the city. His third of the troll-hoard alone put him in that category. Nag Kath's gift of as much and a lifetime of shrewd decisions made the unassuming dock-rat a man of substance. Nag Kath insisting Brenen earning an officer's commission helped overcome his humble beginnings. The portly Northman still rolled out with the reserves every autumn to plink arrows at strawmen, followed by a single pint of tan.

Quite out of the blue, Brenen asked, "Nag, have you thought to your other holdings here?"

"Hmmmm? You've got those now."

"Not all. You gave us Kathen Properties, but you still own a half a dozen outright."

"I had no idea. Really?"

"Sure. Some of it is just land outside the gates but you've got two shop buildings and a couple apartments in the Slattery district, not to mention the Mason's Guild Hall. They've been trying to buy that for years. We mind them the same as all the rest."

"Well, thank you. I've still got money in the bank here and similar operations in Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. The man on the river was my southern Brenen. Younger and shorter. You'd like him. Now Nedille, tell me about the children."

She explained the fortunes of the three not there. Turenon was at a repair site when his da and Uncle Nag visited. Brenen and Nag Kath agreed years ago that even though he was an honorary grandfather, his eternal youth would eventually be confusing. Uncles can come in all ages.

Second son Gerrulth became a jeweler. Brenen and Nedille didn't mind. Nag Kath had told them of Mr. Tallazh's difficulty of finding room for everyone and it wasn't like the young man needed the income. Nedille and Renelda were each wearing one of his broaches and it was beautiful work. Ardathlin, named in honor of Nag Kath's other family, had married a handsome Lieutenant in the King's guard and told her mother last week that another grandbaby might be in the offing. Renelda had outgrown the nickname Bugs long ago. She was a beauty.

As was his lifetime habit, Brenen only sipped at a single goblet of wine during the meal. Nag Kath might ask him about his long-lost da in a private moment. The Elf was off before the sun was gone but would stop by the office in a day or two.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Back home by lamplight, Eniece poured on him like rain. This was their home, every inch of it. There had been enough time to accept that she would always be with him. And after Flor, it was nice to remember further back.

Nag Kath's breakfast was the last of his Lembas and water from the canteen. No sooner had he wiped his lips than there was a knock at the door. He put her at about thirty-three, dressed in brown homespun with a pug nose and freckles but still an attractive woman. She looked up at the looming Elf and said cheerfully, "Rosalin said you's looking for someone."

He swung the door open and she walked in looking around the large main room saying, "I'm Tella Rancasth. Do some cooking and cleaning."

Her being here meant excellent references. Nag Kath held his chin, as all good decision-makers do, and asked, "What sorts of households have you served, Tella?"

"Mostly families with young 'uns, Mr. Kath.

Did Ros tell you I don't eat meat?"

She shook her head and said, "No. But I can cook other things. Do you eat fish?"

"I do."

"I make a right proper fish stew or can bake it if you have the right kind of oven."

Nag Kath stood and Miss Rancasth, he guessed miss since she was not wearing a wedding band, stood as well. Wondering what else Rosalin hadn't mentioned he asked, "Did Ros tell you of my other habits?"

The woman gulped in resignation, dropped to her knees and began unbuttoning his trouser fly. Nag Kath stepped back and cautioned, "She didn't tell you that!"

Miss Rancasth looked up in shock and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Kath. No sir, but I know what requirements it takes for a girl to get a job with a gentleman, well, some of them."

Trying not to break into his largest grin, the Elf said sternly, "That will not be required here, Miss Rancasth. No need to mention this to Ros, either, eh?" Still kneeling, she gulped again and nodded. Nag Kath offered his hand to help her rise and pulled four silvers from his vest. "You're hired. There's probably nothing in the pantry. Get what you need. Can you read?"

She gave an unconvincing shrug and said, "A little, Mr. Kath."

I'll make out a list of other things shortly. Here's your room …"

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

It wasn't until he was on his way to the stable that he had a good laugh. That was not so funny. Men took advantage. It was not how he saw the world but he knew he was naïve.

Charlo seemed to like his new situation. There were two mares and a cart-pony in the stalls next to him. The stableman's son remembered Regalid and was just as impressed with the new horse. Nag Kath took him out the gate and made the two hour ride to Lake Town.

There was new paint here too. He climbed the steps to the Borenne business and saw the fellow who reminded him so much of a young Mr. Tallazh thirty years ago. Now he reminded him of an old Mr. Tallazh. The man recognized him immediately and said, "Welcome back, Mr. Kath. Mrs. Borenne doesn't come in much but I would be glad to take you to her home."

The clerk called into the back to have someone watch the door and walked into the sun. Nag Kath said, "Thank you, Mr. Jemeneth. I hope you have been well."

"Indeed, sir. I have been buying the business for some time. We are having a good year."

"The family has been well served."

Eniece's mother's home was only three buildings over. Nag Kath hoped this would not be too much of a surprise. He asked Ardatha to mention his return to the old lady but mail is never reliable. Mr. Jemeneth rapped the brass knocker three times and took his leave.

A gaunt woman wearing gray opened the door and peered up at the Elf. He said, "Good morning, Miss Urnn."

The woman blinked a few times, knowing she knew who he was but not sure of the name and said, "Please come in, sir."

"If you could tell Mrs. Borenne that Nag Kath has come to call?"

Comprehension appeared on her face and she hurried to inform her mistress. Mrs. Borenne came out a minute later and offered her hand for a kiss. She was eighty if she was a day but still had the regal poise and beauty Eniece inherited. Graciously she said, "Ardatha told me you were coming. How nice of you to visit."

"It is my pleasure ma'am. Your granddaughter has been a good correspondent."

She motioned to a pair of comfortable chairs saying, "Please, Nag Kath. Would you like tea?"

That wasn't even out of her mouth before Miss Urnn appeared with a tray, cups, a steaming pot and honey. He sat down and waited until his hostess was comfortable.

Mrs. Borenne seemed at peace. Her husband died not long after their dear daughter. She threw herself into longtime interests and with the help of many friends still lived a full life. Nag Kath had missed her. They spoke for almost two hours and he left with promises to return often. Mrs. Borenne got teary as he rose, remembering how much Eniece loved him and how he had helped her blossom. He was a dear soul.

~o~

Nearly dusk getting back, Nag Kath dropped by the studio of Master Golord. A new Dwarf opened the complex door and asked as brusquely as only a Dwarf can for the tall, pale one to state his business.

"I am Nag Kath and am come to pay my respects to Master Golord."

"He is no doubt busy."

In the Elf Lord voice he saved for special occasions, "As are we all, young Ghazd (Khuzdun for youngster)."

The Dwarf gave him a wide-eyed up-and-down before saying, "Wait here."

It did not take long. The Master came back with the junior fellow, which validated the youngster's decision to interrupt him. "Nag Kath, you old devil! I wondered if you would ever knock on my door again!"

"Wild horses could not keep me away, Master Dwarf."

"Come in, come in! This is Wallord who I hope can find us some tea." Hint taken, the shortbeard hurried as much as Dwarves can do indoors towards a dark hallway. They walked back to the studio and took the same seats they had years ago. "So, tell me of your travels Mr. Kath."

The young Dwarf was instantly there with tea which was too hot just now. Nag Kath let it cool and said, "Of interest to Durin's people, I have spent considerable time with Dwarves of the Glittering Caves. Engineer Thurgin consulted and Lord Gimli got his groats in too."

"I have heard about this; a long water pipe like the one to the palace pool."

With pride Nag Kath said, "Yes, we named the chute from the mountain the Gimli Cascade. It shines different colors of light like a rainbow depending on the sun."

Master Golord muttered, hardly meaning it, "I need to get abroad more."

In the event he actually might, Nag Kath encouraged him, "It is not that far if you take the Great River Road and avoid the Gladden bogs. I'll wager you have caravans down there all the time."

"Indeed. My cousin Urald trades there. Thorbar was with those who settled the caves." Dwarves have endless cousins. Any relation, no matter how distant, is awarded that honor.

Nag Kath paid the Master a tribute, "I use your little knife often and think of its craft every time. It has received many compliments. I still have the test knife too."

"I thank you for that. Men learned of our work and came for pieces of their own, albeit it without bringing their own mithril. Don't suppose you've come across any more of that?"

"Just the little piece. That was from a troll-hoard. Thankfully, they were well past asking."

"Never hurts to try."

"If you will excuse me, Master Dwarf, I am newly back and must see to errands. I am just here to hope we can bend our elbows with fine ale at leisure."

"I will see you then."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath walked to a tavern near the palace gate and asked if anyone had seen Sergeant Burry when he ordered his pie. The old archer still came in a night or so a week. Nag Kath left a hefty tip and asked that the Sergeant be told his old student was in town. If that didn't work, Nag Kath thought he knew about where Burry lived.

Back at the house, Miss Rancasth had already been shopping and was now rearranging the kitchen with a vengeance. She did not seem self-conscious about her employment interview when she asked where he wanted the towels stored so hopefully that was water over the dam. Nag Kath wrote out a list of foods, household items and sundries Tella would not know to get.

Then he watched her read it. She studied it with the kind of frown unlettered folks use but then asked if Mr. Kath wanted the red or green peppers. So she could read well enough, and she should get some of each.

He had other writing to do:

My Lord King and Lady Queen,

I hope the Valar have smiled on you and your family.

I am just returned from Gondor and will be staying here for some time. If I can be of any service, I am at your call. For what it is worth, I have a small measure of ending for the health concern of our Lady Queen so long ago.

With humility, Nag Kath

Folded and sealed, Nag Kath realized he needed another lad to run errands as he walked to the palace gate and handed the note to a sentry along with a second for Captain Rosscranith.

~o~

The next morning there was business to handle. Nag Kath walked west to the Royal Bank of Dale and asked to see his balance statement. It took some time to confirm he was who he said he was by signing his name for comparison. Finally, old Mr. Colas, who was blind as a mole but as sharp as ever, was located upstairs. He walked down and said, "Good day, Mr. Kath. It is a pleasure to see you again." What he could see was debatable, but none of the junior clerks would gainsay him. His account was worth one hundred twenty two Florin, including the interest. His rental trust had another thirty plus four silvers. Nag Kath didn't need any of it so he wished everyone well and made his way to the Hobbits' home.

Lotold answered the door and beamed with his arms wide. You understand that is not wide in the relative scheme of things, but he meant it as strongly as any Northman. Rather than have the Elf smack his head on the ceiling, Lotold collected Lorens from the kitchen and they all walked outside to the patio. Nag Kath said, "It was on this porch that we first met all those years ago."

Lorens agreed, "Indeed it was. Uncle Stifo was here and cantankerous as could be. Are you home for a while, Nag Kath?"

He called it home. Was it? Nag Kath thought he might now have two homes because there were people in both that loved him. He also thought he would never stay anywhere very long as his powers increased. "I think a year or two, Lorens. That is no guarantee but it feels about right."

Lotold bore in, "You must tell us all about your adventures. We haven't been any further than Esgaroth since you left."

"I do have some Hobbit news. A couple months ago I visited the Shire with King Aragorn. It was the only way to get in. There I met Sam, Pip and Merry. I thought it went rather well, considering I was one of the Uruks chasing them. And I have been much in the company of the Dwarf Gimli so that only leaves the Elf Legolas to meet of the surviving Fellowship of the Ring."

Lotold thought first and queried, "Odd; that. I should have thought he would be the easiest to find."

"I am not sure he wants to be found. I will be in Middle-earth for the foreseeable future and the first ale will be on me if he knocks."

Lorens stated for the record, "You will excuse us, Nag Kath. Our wives have decided that alcoholic beverages are not to be served before the five-bell, for reasons of health."

Lotold rejoined, "Horsefeathers! Here we have the world famous Nag Kath come to visit and we cannot even wet his whistle! We have our reputations as hosts to protect!"

"Quite right, brother. We should not set a bad precedent. May we offer you a libation to take the edge off your hard travel?"

Nag Kath pretended to consider their local standing before agreeing to a half-pint. After draining it he promised to organize a dinner when he found a cook. He had one, but wouldn't subject friends to her meals until he had tried one himself.

~o~

That meal was still a couple hours away so Nag Kath walked to the healing and herb district. Of all the places so far, these buildings had seen the least improvement. Signs were painted and sidewalks were swept but it still looked like a place people went to die.

He pushed his hair over his ears and entered a shop that probably would not offer magical cures. He was sure when a plump proprietress cheerfully asked him how she could help. He said with his most charming smile, "I am trying to find a healer known here long ago called Moann Quessan. Before your time, I am sure."

The woman sized him up for other than medicinal purposes and said, "Never heard of her. What do you need, young fellow?"

"She was a midwife who helped me into Dale thirty years ago. I thought she might still be available for a new generation." A Magister could argue that statement was technically true, even if completely misleading.

Since he was obviously spoken-for, she offered, "Three doors east, cross the street. Old lady named Bolaris. She might go back far enough."

Miss, and she would have you know it was Miss, Bolaris was having cold tea in her back room when the bell above the door rang unexpectedly. The elderly herbalist limped into her showroom and appraised the tall young man waiting for help. She was polite enough, "How can I assist, young sir?"

"I am looking for Miss Quessan."

More annoyed than suspicious the lady stated, "You've got the wrong shop. It is just me here."

Nag Kath walked to the counter and placed a silver down so it snapped on the surface. He looked at it for a moment and then said, "We are old friends."

She grumbled, "Old friends stay in touch."

He leaned towards her with, "Are you old friends?"

Oh, this was terrible! That silver would cover last month's rent and a pork roast. But Moaan was a good person and this could not possibly be to her benefit. Nag Kath knew he struck gold. In a gentler voice he said, "You don't have to tell me where she is. If you are a friend, she probably mentioned me when she moved up the hill. You keep that silver and ask her if she remembers me. If so, I am at my old house again. Good day, ma'am."

He whistled the Orthanc trail song on the way home.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

His house smelled wonderful. Tella Rancasth could cook. As spelled, her name was pronounced with a lisp but no one had put the "h" on the end in her lifetime.

They had baked fish and he let her sit at table with him, the first time that had ever happened for her. She was sure permission was meal-by-meal but he seemed nice enough. Ros had not given her the details of his diet or private needs but she did say he was more than he appeared. He appeared very handsome and her thoughts drifted during dinner.

That night, Nag Kath was visited by dreams much like at the house of Tom Bombadil and Goldberry. It was a call of longing and care but also of satisfaction. In his mindful rest, he acknowledged it and let it pass to clear his thoughts. The next morning he was refreshed and ready for more exploring.

Tella found some fresh eggs and loaves at the market yesterday. It would take her another day or two to let the yeast rise to make her own bread. She seemed very refreshed and cheerful too. Nag Kath did not intend to make for Buhr Austar for another month but it paid to learn of the routes in advance. He took Charlo down to the royal stables. These were escort facilities for when Bard left the city. That wasn't often these days.

Charlo was the bait. He could have just walked down but parading one of King Aragorn's stallions past their own handsome mounts put Nag Kath in the category of those who get information first. He also had Tella sew his Dale cavalry reserve-Captain's gorget on his lapel, hoping it wasn't six years out of date.

Sure enough, Charlo brought a crowd. Unlike most horses, Lossarnach bred animals had a tattoo stamped in their ear rather than a burned brand on the flank. It still hurt the poor little foals terribly, but much less than fire. A hardened sergeant said, "Fine mount. Are you new to Dale?"

Nag Kath turned so the sergeant could see his officer's insignia and replied, "I have been away for a while and thought I would take him over the charging lanes."

"Very good, sir."

"No need for that Sarge. We are all just folk in the summer. You might help me though. I make for Buhr Austar this fall and am too recently returned to know the road. What news of either way?"

Since the blonde lad, certainly a rich man's son, said they were off-parade, the sarge spit something brown and whistled for a corporal who was carrying a saddle to the tack room. "The Capt'n said he's heading to the Buhrs this fall. How was the Dwarf Road last month?"

The corporal held his unusually shaved chin before saying, "Fine. It was dry. No ruffians reported, even by two or three-wagon teams. Not much forage, though, and there'll be less then." He looked at Charlo, "Bring your own oats."

The Elf said, "Thank you gents. I'm sure I'll see you again."

Sarge said, "Well, let us talk about that. My Captain would be sore interested in this fellow." He gave the horse a muzzle-scratch.

"That is reasonable enough. He is Charlo and he is from Lord Aragorn's stud in Lossarnach, below Minas Tirith. I am told he is mostly Rohirrim stock with some of the faster Gondor lines from light cavalry. He dearly loves to run."

Another spit, "I don't suppose he would be interested in parenthood?"

That brought a grin and memories of Regalid's surreptitious romance in Helm's Deep. "I wouldn't mind and I'm sure he would approve." Nag Kath took one of the cards he wrote the night before from his vest and handed it to the Sergeant saying, "I should be easy to find."

Both sides thought that a fair exchange. Nag Kath took Charlo out to the farm roads between the millet fields for exercise before riding back to the block stable. Then he walked to the Kathen office. Bard was there with his son going over a new wall one of the tenants needed for their store. Barthanid was just a boy the last time Nag Kath saw him but Bart was eighteen now and would be a prize when the right girl set her sights on him.

They made polite conversation until Bart excused himself to visit the Woodworker's Guild. Bard shared Brenen's aversion to alcohol so they had cool tea which Ros made by the gallon. Nag Kath kicked his feet up on the chair next to him and said, "Looks like you and yours are in tall barley, Bard."

"Aye, Nag. Bren and I could retire anytime. Our boys are near ready to take the reins, good 'uns both, older than we were. I've got hobbies but I'm not sure what Bren would do with his time. I wish he would take more exercise. You notice that little shuffle in his walk?"

"I did. My healing powers are stronger now, but there isn't much anyone can do for the knife and spoon."

Bard took a long pull of tea and said, "Aleurn, his mother Aleurn, will move below them when we make a deal on that brown house. Bren and Nedille mostly mind the grandkids. Did he tell you there's another on the way?"

"Rumors."

"That will put him at six and counting. Aleurn loves them silly. If she is closer, maybe Bren and Nedille can travel a bit, though I'm sure he hasn't been on a horse since Vandery died. What's that, twenty years ago?"

Nag Kath smiled after his own swig, "Almost. Course, getting the ladies on a horse is the tricky part. Can Nedille ride?"

"Just a man-cart. They're all over in modern Dale, run over your foot if you don't step lively. They have their own Guild now."

"I saw. I'm a little surprised he hasn't visited Ardatha."

"No need. She is here every other year for the Thainmoot. Her young 'uns are teenagers and the oldest bore her two grandbabes for good measure. Old Thain Conath doesn't make the trip anymore. His oldest steers the boat now."

"Conath has two fine sons. Good soldiers. How about Bart, is he a man-of-arms?"

"A better archer than either his da or uncle, if I say so myself. You taught him and Burry let him train after harvest. Fair rider too."

"Oh, good. I stopped by Burry's watering hole to leave word."

Bard thought fondly of the tough old sarge and said, "He is the same as ever and still quick on his feet. Heard tell a hill brat gave him lip at last year's training and got some stitches for his sass."

"I'll wager that is a story to go with a pitcher of tan."

"You'll get no takers. I expect you can still pin a fly at fifty paces."

"Probably. See here, Bard. I'm settling in and will be here a season or two at least. Let us conspire to get Bren on a swayback nag and ride a stone off him. In the meantime, he told me I still have property. I don't remember which ones. Suppose I should pop round for a look."

One was a building with four nice apartments just below the Cheesemakers' district. Another was less inviting down by the docks. Two urchins were playing in a horse trough in front. The two shop buildings were side-by-side near the boatwrights. Both were leased and seemed to be doing good trade. Nag Kath didn't enter either. His policy was still to keep a low profile. There was no need to see the Mason's Guild. Everyone knew where that was.

The ground outside was near the Erebor Gate close by Master Golord's compound. The Long Road Inn seemed to be doing business. No matter. If the men who ran Kathen Properties wanted to keep it, who was he to say otherwise?

~o~

Tella made vegetable pies for dinner. His was delicious. With his Elvish appetite he only finished half and let his proud cook know it wasn't her recipe. She said she would make smaller ones. After dark Nag Kath put an oil lamp on either side of his table and brought a handful of his old drawings downstairs to look. They weren't as good as he remembered but were now his own version of the Red Book of Westmarch. A pile of newer pictures from the trip north went into empty hanging files.

That night he was again visited by dreams of longing and release. This time they lingered. He pulled out of his meditation and realized it wasn't a dream at all. Those were noises in his house. Nag Kath crept down the stairs and heard Tella pleasuring herself. It was so quiet that a human would never hear. To Elf ears, it was plain as day.

He smiled and went back to his room. Shutting the door he found deep rest difficult. Proper Elves had training to block out distractions along with controlling their own impulses. He had neither skill and it had been a long time since bedding Flor. Putting his pillow over his head didn't work. Humming Tom Bombadil songs under the pillow didn't work. His choices were to tell her to stop or wait until he was not home, dismissing her or finding her a man. His body suggested another option but that would cause more trouble than it solved.

~o~

She was her usually sunny self while serving the morning omelet. He was more reserved. The bought-bread was fine but Tella assured him they would have their own tonight. There was a loud knock at the door. Nag Kath had been handing out invitations for the last two days so it could be anyone, but that was a soldier's knock for sure.

Standing at the door was grizzled old Burry. He had lost some weight, in a good way, and was as formidable as ever. Burry gripped his hand in the greeting of Northmen as he stamped inside. The Master Archer knew the house well and found a chair without being told. The Elf asked his amorous cook, "Do we still have tea?"

There was plenty and she bustled off to fetch a mug and honey pot. Burry stared at the tall ceiling and said, "I got an ale last night and they told me you had been round. No name, but no one else fits your description. Been back long?"

"Good to see you, Sarn't. Just a few days. The place hasn't changed."

"Times have been good. Nobody walks no more."

Nag Kath wondered, "Man-carts?"

"All over, they are. One of them ran into Corporal Dungan last month and then the fellow sassed him for standing in the road. Well, you know Dungan. That may stand as the city record for how far you can fling one of those things from a battlement."

"I hope it was empty!"

Burry laughed, "Aye, at least it was when it landed."

"Are you still stalking the keep?"

The old soldier said without rancor, "Four years ago they culled the bull elks. I still teach the militia for a few coppers but I'm retired now. Saved my pay, kept a few of your coins and we bought the apartment above ours. Now the rent pays for our food and I wrestle the bairns. Oh, and Lola sends her best."

Nag Kath said, "I haven't been upstairs (the nickname for inside the palace walls) but there aren't as many men in the turrets."

"Getting soft, we are! Thirty years without a good war will do that. The men up there are professionals, but I shudder to think of breaking out of Erebor with journeymen glassblowers to the fore. That would be a proper goat's breakfast."

The Elf thought the same. "Though I understand Bart, son of Bard is a fair hand."

"A good 'un. He's got your eye. He'd better be sure he isn't ordered to lead light cavalry into spears by some hill brat. Probably won't come to that. Easterlings are farmers now." He leaned forward more seriously, "Heard tell some of their hard men are itching for empire again. That's fine as long as they stay on their side of the river."

Tella came up to them and curtsied before saying, "Excuse me, Mr. Kath. I'll just get to the market now."

He said, "That's fine. Oh, Tella, this is my old friend Burry who taught me archery. He's welcome any time. Burr this is Tella."

The big man said he was pleased to meet her and gave her an extra look as she sashayed to the door. "Nag, you do seem to find them."

"Just met her. Bard's wife sent her down to cook. How's your brood?"

"Towing the line, they are. My middle boy is having a rough patch. His wife divorced him and he's mooning about like a calf."

Nag Kath pondered, "Divorce is not easy here."

"Just long. She wrote the petition a year ago and it was proclaimed in May. He's staying with us now since her da owned the house."

"No kids?"

"Nay, that was the problem." Burry leaned forward again, "Between us, she did not care for the marriage bed. He's a normal man and wants a family. It is probably for the best."

Oh, thank you old Burr, solver of riddles. This might not rank up there with preventing Bard's assassination, but as a scheme, it was perfect in its simplicity. "Burry, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"I am going to send Tella by your house this afternoon to get the Arrow of Dulnach. It has sentimental value to me."

"The arrow of what?"

"It's the rankest turkey-quill target-shaft you have to scrape your boots. What matters is that your love-sick boy is the one who gets it for her, might even ask her inside while you look. Understand?"

Nobody's fool; Burry grinned to rival Nag Kath and said, "I have just the one. You might give her the evening off, being as you're visiting one of your lordly friends for dinner, unexpected like."

"Must have slipped my mind."

~o~

Not much happened for a few days. Nag Kath found time to get fitted to replace the dress-clothing he left in the White City. He went fishing at the Chairn Stream towards Erebor, wondering what would bite at venison soaked in barley spirits. The trout liked hooks bound with green and red thread and he brought them home to be cooked by his tired servant.

While he was out, a sealed note arrived by a messenger in livery. That was Rosscranith's ring or he was a fool. He should come up to the man's house tomorrow after dinner for a goblet of Dorwinion. It did not have the usual excuse printed at the bottom for regrets.

Nag Kath wore the best he had and gave his name to the sentry at the main gate. There was no confusion. The Corporal pushed the gate and made sure the visitor knew how to get there. He had only been here once before. Journa opened the door herself and welcomed him inside. They had entertained another couple for dinner but cleared them out after a decent interval so the Colonel and Elf could talk.

Rosscranith walked out of the kitchen with a cup in his hand, said hello and went back for another. The two arranged themselves in comfortable chairs as the lady of the house excused herself. Without a word, Rosscranith raised his cup. Nag Kath did the same. The man had always reminded him of Captain Marchand. He was what good men aspired to be.

"Welcome back, Nag Kath. Congratulations on the aqueduct."

"Good to be back. It actually works! It is nice to know men can still build great things. You've been back what, two years now?"

"Almost. We liked Minas Tirith. Despite the distance, it is more like here than anywhere in-between. That was my last posting. I am retired now, except for consulting."

This was cordial but not a social call. Nag Kath hinted, "A bird told me things go ill with the King."

"His heart. He can't get his wind. He waves from the window on holidays but Bain controls the army. The son is good, a bit like his grandda, leading from the front."

The Elf said, "I sent the King and Queen a letter the same day as yours. We settled the witch from Nauthauja."

"I heard. Good work. Things would be different if Counselor Finrales had succeeded here, or even failed less grandly."

"A noble in Dol Amroth tried the same thing. It seems the witch's apprentice wanted the job instead and put paid to the old one before she got on the boat. That one is ashes now too. I did see Durnalath in case they were using her again. She is fine and happy. Her son should be commissioned in their Marines by now." Nag Kath put his elbows on his knees and folded his long fingers. Picking his words carefully, "You know something."

"Easterlings. The old Bror died two years ago. The favored son took the miter but his brother has adherents, mostly on our side of their lands, same sort of hard men you met when I was younger. It will be a dry year. Scouts at the Buhrs and ferry report parties on horse probing forward positions. No one has come to blows yet, but they aren't being discrete."

Nag Kath knew the wily Colonel had ears along the water but knew better than to ask. He did venture, "And north?"

Colonel Rosscranith leaned back in his chair and had a satisfying pull of the wine. "No flies on you, Elf. There are noises there too, more along your former line. No attacks, but we have reports. Sheep go missing." The man would know Nag Kath planned to visit his step-daughter soon. The Buhr Thains were the first line of defense. It looked like he would be taking the Iron Hills road looking for orcs.

Nag Kath assessed, "I'll need a dozen of your best, dressed like tinkers. Better put me with your eyes on the wastelands too, numbers, arms, beasts, everything you've got."

"Sarnt Edelbras cleans-up well. Expect him soon."

"How does the Prince fit in?"

"He knows. So does his Highness. This is official. Training this harvest will not be a beer party."

Nag Kath said, "I saw Burry. His nose is twitching too."

"I hope his uniform still fits. That's where we're weakest, Nag Kath; tough sarn'ts who can feed their men when the enemy starves."

"I'll leave in two weeks."

"Good. Their Highnesses want to see you first. Watch for that."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Two days later; "Tella, you have been coming home late. Are you working for another employer?" Nag Kath's voice was not accusing, just businesslike.

Cook/cleaners could be in-house or day-work, depending on the home. They had never really discussed that. She had a room here, a nice one by service standards, but that didn't mean she couldn't have another somewhere else.

The flustered domestic stammered, "Oh no, Mr. Kath. This is my only work. I'm sore shamed if I have let you down."

He was really just teasing her but it also might let her think she was getting away with the more serious transgression of rolling in the hay with a newly divorced Northman in this staid land. After the pretty blonde man recoiled from her, she probably wasn't sure of his tastes. Poor Burry would be hearing more than little whimpers at his house, but he could sleep through anything.

Sounding more serious that he felt; "Very well. Don't want to make you stay if this household isn't to your liking."

"I like it here fine, Mr. Kath."

~o~

Later that morning there was another soldier's knock. Tella fair shot to the door proving her sense of duty and greeted the man respectfully. He said, "I am Edelbras to see Nag Kath."

"Won't you come in, sir?"

The fellow looked more like an officer before he was transferred to quiet-work. Edelbras was tall, plain, softspoken. Nag Kath came forward to shake his hand and show him into the main room. Tella fetched tea, watching for the signal that her employer needed privacy. She got it and announced that she was going out for groceries.

Edelbras watched her saucy exit just as Burry had done but quickly looked at the Elf saying. "The Colonel told me more about you than he wanted to. Good thing. I wouldn't have guessed by your looks."

Nag Kath brushed his hair behind one ear and said, "Rogue Elf, left behind. I have my uses."

Special Assistant Edelbras leveled, "Rosscranith was square with me so let us be as well. Here is what we know; the Easterlings have a quiet civil war on their hands. The heir, Dulgov, got the better lands further east. The pretender has been consolidating lands on their side of the Redwater. Other than probes they have kept this bloodless.

"The trouble is that the harvest along the river will be poor, for them and us. The Bror has no need to share his Rhûn bounty with the usurper. We think Frûnzar, that's his name, is looking west or he risks his warriors seeking accommodation with the Bror."

Nag Kath listened intently and asked soldier's questions including, "What kind of horse can they field?"

"We don't think much. Thain Durnaldar keeps a weather-eye on their comings and goings. They are not great hands at raising stock and they haven't stolen enough mounts to put up much of a fight. Our friends in Rohan haven't sold them any either. But they have been buying steel, old swords from the war. And they are not beating them into plowshares."

Nag Kath cut to the chase, "Do they have old friends to the north?"

Edelbras sighed and then formed what could be called a smile, "There have been reported orc sightings just above the road. Armed bands of no more than twenty at a time but we think different bunches. They can stand a little light. Forgive my insensitivity but couldn't your kind as well?"

"Yes, but we were bred to it. If these local lads have picked-up the knack, that is new. Do you know what they eat? Those wastes aren't hospitable."

"I don't know." The Sergeant was pleased that the Elf wasn't defensive about his origins. They were going into the dragon's mouth and he did not need weaklings. If what Rosscranith said about him single-handedly carving Easterlings into steaks was half accurate, they had the right man. Nag Kath surprised him with the next question, "How much grain can we get to the northern border on short notice?"

"I'll inquire."

The Elf said, "Then we'd better get cracking. I'll send a letter to Thorin Stonehelm. They have skin in the game."

~o~

"Morning Burry, sleeping well?"

"Hughmmmmm."

"That's what I thought. I need another favor."

Burry shook his head but then smiled thinking of his son's happiness. "No problem."

"I need two hundred unmarked war-headed shafts in a week. Used is fine. Borrowed from royal stock is fine. Price is no object but this has to be quiet, deadly quiet."

The burly Sergeant dropped his pretense of fatigue and gave Nag Kath his full attention. "North or east?"

"North."

"Dougsh! See what I can do."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

After lunch another messenger in hill livery brought another letter sealed with another signet Nag Kath knew well. The man said nothing but stayed until his delivery was read. The Elf nodded his assent and the man was gone.

The next morning at ten thirty Nag Kath presented himself at the palace gate in his newly arrived togs. They pinched around the armpits but would have to do. He was passed without demurrer and made his way to the Hall. Guards nodded him through at each door. Their highnesses were in the same pretty room he remembered from the Queen's care. She rose to offer her hand and accept his bow. King Bard remained seated on the couch but nodded and smiled. Delatha spoke for them, "Welcome back, Nag Kath. How fortunate you are to never age."

"Your Ladyship has the same talent."

"Were that but true. Please, have a seat."

He sat on the couch and waited. King Bard cleared his throat twice and said in a strong voice, "We always seem to involve you in some intrigue. It is a wonder you return."

"Service is my honor, your Highness."

The King halted for a moment and then carried-on, "Before we look at the business at hand, I would be interested in hearing old stories."

Nag Kath looked at the Queen, who had indeed cheated time as well as any woman could hope. Some faces, like his mother-in-law's, never lost their grace. "There is not much to tell. My best guess is that the witch who afflicted My Lady and the young woman from Nauthauja was contracted for similar villainy in Dol Amroth, presumably with enough time and distance to not be recognized.

"Then, her apprentice killed her and took the errand herself, aiding another witch in Belfalas who needed more power for the spells. I went there at the request of King Aragorn taking yet another witch of considerable power but inclined toward right actions and we foiled the plot. The apprentice was killed along with her local counterpart and Prince Imrahil settled up with an ambitious noble much as your Highness did here.

"None of this is secret. The good witch was celebrated for her courage and is living large in her new land. Lady Durnalath actually lives there now but she was unaffected and lives a full life with her family."

Queen Delatha clapped her hands together, more for a happy ending than revenge on her tormentor, and then looked to her dear husband. She knew she was losing him. The King was kingly and brought the subject back to his borders. "Nag Kath, Rosscranith has briefed you on events north and east. He said you are willing to serve your adopted country." Bard needed a moment to call his reserves. This was the final thing he needed to get right in this life. "You are resourceful and brave. Will you help my people?"

"It would be my privilege, Sire. I make for the Buhrs in a week. Edelbras is exactly the man I would have sought if you hadn't thought of him for me. I took the liberty of seeking an audience with Thorin Stonehelm. I'll need to speak with his cousin in the Iron Hills. They will know more than they have shared thus far. It is time to remind them of successful alliances before the world forgets."

Bard summoned the last of his energy and said, "Go with my blessing. I'll send word to the Dwarf Lord as well. We go back together. May the Valar keep and protect you, Nag Kath."

Dismissed, the Elf rose as did the Queen. She walked him to the door saying softly, "I will speak to the heir this very day. He readies our men without raising alarm. May your journey be blessed."

"Thank you, My Lady. If it falls within your reach, a word with Miss Quessan might help me ere I go."

~o~

"Tella."

She dearly hoped this was not another admonition for her long evening strolls. Smiling on the outside but wincing within, she presented herself at the table where the strange blonde man was busy with his hobbies. "Yes, Mr. Kath?"

"I need to go to my step-daughter's home in the east earlier than planned, in little more than a week. You must keep the place in fine condition until I return, which may not be until spring. Here is your salary, in advance." He slid over a silver for each possible month and added, "Ros will see to the upkeep of the home. If you like, you may have company visit, providing, of course, that they are respectable women of good family." He knew good and well that her lusty Northman did not fit the description, but bending her master's interpretation of reasonable guests should get Burry's household much needed rest.

Over the next few days he had her purchase an assortment of powders and papers from far-flung regions of the city along with the curious cane stalks with hollow interiors, big ones, mind you, not the smaller ones people used for catching fish. She fretted watching the tireless man fiddle with piles of these things and some from his travel bag. If everyone did not know that sorcerers and dark magic had been banished from the Fourth Age, one might think he was conjuring. It was silly to even think such thoughts! They were gone, weren't they?

Tella also saw him visit his friends to let them know of his accelerated departure. The two little Hobbits even came to visit. She had never spoken with a Halfling before and wouldn't you know; they were just ordinary folk!

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Another visitor, an elderly woman, came the day before he left. She had been here before, long ago. Tella went shopping.

"Good to see you, Moaan."

"Against your own demons, you survived! You are lucky, Nag Kath."

"No argument there. I'm off against Easterlings, maybe orcs this time too. We found the witch from Nauthauga, in Osgiliath, dead as Durok. Her assistant killed her and took a commission just like the one here. You can help me. Any idea what poison would make a person's tongue turn blue?"

Before she would answer, Miss Quessan needed some background, "Did you have any help in Osgiliath?"

"Dol Amroth. And yes, a Mrs. Hürna."

Quessan raised an eyebrow, a sweeping gesture among her expressions, "You are moved up in the world, sir Elf. Even I've heard of her. Did she survive?"

"The Prince made her Lady Hürna of the Galador and bestowed a nice house and a purse of gold."

"Blue tongue is probably gressroot cursed with a binding spell. Lady Hürna would know that."

"I got that from the undertaker after the affair in Belfalas was put to bed."

With curiosity and not an ounce of fear, Miss Quessan said, "I can feel your power, Nag Kath. Are you a monster yet?"

"I wonder myself, but no, I am somehow an innocent, applied loosely. I married again, lost her and a child, dug a ditch and still care for folk."

"Tell me about it when you return safely. Here is a card with my address."

It was blank. He would have to discover its secret.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath rode Charlo to the post in front of the house to load his bags and waved goodbye. It wasn't until he was out the Erebor gate that a dozen riders joined him for the Lonely Mountain.

Not five miles into the trip, a rider said, "We never did find the right mare for him."

Nag Kath looked over to see the Sergeant from the King's guard stable riding alongside. He smiled and replied, "Let us hope the ladies get their chance on our return."

"Aye, sir. I shall hope that for all of us. I am Bernas Tellig of the Second Flank."

"Nag Kath. Still no need for sir. We are just civilians out enjoying the countryside."

"Tourists!"

"As you say, Bernas. First we are going to tour Erebor. They won't let us in very far but it is a sight you will tell your grandchildren." And it was. Unexpectedly, Lord Tombor met them personally at the gate and brought them all into the first Hall before taking Nag Kath with a guard of honor to King Thorin III's chamber.

The Elf's experience with monarchs was that they sat in upholstered chairs and tried to keep their daily business in comfortable, well-heated rooms. This place could never be warm. The King remained seated in an ornate, carved marble throne and Nag Kath stood the prescribed ten Dwarf paces from the first step of the dais after bowing. Thorin spoke with a deep and lordly voice, "Welcome back to Erebor, Mr. Kath. I understand we have common interest."

"It would seem so, High King, though I am away to discover the extent of that."

"We are learning ourselves, Sir Knight. My cousin Lord Bregan will know more. Here is a letter from me asking him to assist you earnestly in your worthy quest." An ornately armored Dwarf took a sealed packet from his liege and walked it to Nag Kath with a bow.

The King continued, "Our Lord Bard reminds us of our shared purpose not so long ago, the very day we both came into our inheritance. I have also been told stories of your own past, Mr. Kath. I hope some of them are true."

"I deny only the bad ones, Your Lordship."

"MMHaaa! Those were the best! You may approach."

Nag Kath walked to the foot of the throne stairs and bowed again. King Thorin, called Stonehelm to distinguish his from the short reign of Oakenshield, stood and walked to the second step so he was eye to eye with this curious, remaining Elf. Opening his hand revealed a single jewel of deep blue encased in a gold mounting, carved as a cavern of treasure.

"Take it, for my sake. It is one of the Traybor stones, the ones your own people cherish. May it bring you luck. May it bring us all luck. Go now with my blessings." Nag Kath accepted the gift, took two steps backwards, smiled, bowed and turned for the door. That was a blessing indeed. Reaching the horses, Nag Kath nodded at Edelbras who nodded back. Bard had his allies.

~o~

They camped on a familiar road. Sentries, two north, two south, were relieved every three hours. Mutton stew was the fare. Nag Kath had Tella make a large batch of Lembas against that likelihood.

"Mr. Edelbras, do you think these are Gundabad orcs?"

"Originally, but they are well east of those caves. Two different sightings from reliable persons put them two days this side of Buhr Wenjan, one group headed further east, one going west. They are lightly armored with bucklers and their curved swords."

Nag Kath needed to know all he could, "Archers?"

"With their little crescent bows the spotter couldn't tell. I am assuming they have them, though not with the range of our Northbows."

"Wargs?"

Edelbras smiled without showing any teeth, "Not yet."

"Tell me of our companions."

"Six are fine archers. I had a word with Burry so with you; that's seven. We ordered unmarked arrows in advance. The other six are spearmen who can move together at speed. Any of us can use the other with skill and they can all swing a sword."

"They will have questions about me. We should probably answer those tonight around the fire."

An hour before the first sentry shift-change, the remaining nine gathered round the circle. Nag Kath started, "Does anyone in our company speak Easterling?"

"A trooper with his knees wrapped by his arms said, "I speak some. Rudathin on the north post speaks it better."

The man next to him said in jest, "Where we're going, we need someone with orcish!"

Nag Kath said, "Well, that would be me." That got him even more than his usual uncomfortable stares. "I had better set the record straight so we know where we stand if things get tight.

"I am Nag Kath. I am an Elf now but was an Uruk-hai before the war, those were big orcs from Isengard. I can heal and I can kill very quickly. Some of you have probably heard of my work on the Dwarf Road with Easterlings some years back. That is true. I lived in Dale for nineteen years but have been in Gondor for the last nine. Legroth, I recall you from spear training under Sapeldon." The corporal was glad to be remembered. He knew exactly what the Elf could do.

"Now this next bit is important. If we find a party of orcs, the idea is to parlay with them. If they kill me, then you can have your way or leave if that is wiser." Edelbras knew this but the other men were surprised. "As much as possible, I want us to look like a routine patrol on a dougsh assignment. Keep the formation sloppy.

"The reason I asked about Easterling is that if this lot is conspiring with the usurper in their western lands, I would not be a bit surprised if they have eyes in each other's camps. I want you to watch for crows. If you can pick a single one out of the air, do it. Don't bother with a flock. That's why no uniforms. They can tell those and two-by-two formation.

"If you see wargs, let me know."

The man who asked about orcish called, "Tell us about the wargs of Rohan!"

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Their first planned stop was at Buhr Wenjan at the end of the open land to the north. This was the place where the old Thain had fulsomely welcomed Nag Kath on his first northern crossing. It was a nice little market town with attractive women gazing at the troopers. Not wearing uniforms would only fool the crows. They still rode like the King's best. The Thain's Marshal told them over dinner that orcs had actually been seen at dusk or dawn. Disorganized footprints were found in field where a pair of sheep went missing. The farmer was a militia man and not given to vapors. He rode here and reported it the next morning.

A few days later they pulled even with both the first orc sighting and the troll-hoard. The men took their orders from Edelbras but Nag Kath had authority for 'special needs'. Edelbras had been told in advance they would stop here for at least the night and this was when they would use the torches some of the men brought. Nag Kath took four of the archers up the grade with their swords and bows plus a torch for each man.

He could not smell it this time but only took an extra twenty minutes to spot the fissure. The men deployed around the entrance and watched for any sight or sound for another half hour. If their quarry were keeping from the sun, this was a likely den. Nothing stirred so they gathered round the opening and tossed a lit torch inside. Still nothing. Lighting the rest of the torches, they crept in.

Someone had been here using a fire inside the cave. Men would avoid that because of the smoke. These ashes were long dead. Older smells confirmed they were orcs. The way this place fit in the saddle of the mountains, it could be approached from either side without being seen from the other. Whoever cooked the sheep would have counted on that. The mannish swords were still leaning against the back wall. Nag Kath told one of the men to see if they were worth keeping. One was quite nice but the other was a rusty relic. The orcs must have taken what was left of the Elvish armor.

~o~

Now on new ground, Nag Kath led them further up the slope to have a look down the north side. It had an easier gradient leading to the same sort of patchy grasslands on their side. They saw nothing at all. The Elf had the men return to the flat ground in front of the cave for a fireless camp. They would not sleep inside it and were nervous about being near it at night, but these were tough soldiers of Dale and did as they were told. Nag Kath stayed in the lee of mountain saddle and watched for movement. At dusk and dawn was when he would see something.

He sat there all night. Outside of a deer on the plain and a pair of thieving ground squirrels after his Lembas, nothing moved. He rejoined the men at the cave with the sun and they made their way back to the base-camp. The men were not sure what to make of the pale creature. He could be terrifying in his purpose and then tell stories of dancing Hobbits. As with almost every soldier he ever served with, they were glad he was on their side.

The next stop was the Dwarf enclave in the Iron Hills. It was a sizeable mining operation under the over-lordship of Thorin Stonehelm. The underground city had been the capital of King Dain before the dragon war but reclaiming Erebor reduced it to a purely commercial enterprise. What mattered more was that these Dwarves had a degree of autonomy and ears to the backside of the range. One of the two reports of orcs came from Thuras, Lieutenant to Fief Lord Bregan.

As before, there was a village nearly the size of a market town outside of the Halls to trade with men. After billeting the troopers in some comfort, Nag Kath and Edelbras took a trooper as a groom to the Dwarvish Provost office and presented their credentials. There was none of the initial disdain one usually expected when asking leave of Durin's Folk. A seasoned Longbeard bearing scars that probably dated to the Five Armies, said, "You made good time, gentlemen. I think you should plan on a fine dinner in the Halls of Lord Bregan."

The soldier took their horses back to the paddock and the two representatives of Dale went with four hardened Dwarf warriors into the nearby grottos. Nag Kath always marveled at the way these peoples brought light into sheer darkness. He had the advantage of suburb eyes but even men could make their way safely in the more public reaches of Dwarf halls.

Bregan was Nag Kath's kind of Dwarf. He was dressed plainly, without regalia, and greeted them in an antechamber with a hearty grip. "Welcome to my humble fief, favored guests. I don't suppose you are hungry?"

"Edelbras show his diplomatic side, "After mutton stew for a week, tales of your table are inviting indeed!"

"Haaa! Well then, you came to the right place. Come this way. Let us speak privately first and then join my officers." Twenty yards away they entered a smaller chamber with a massive oak table. Torches and sconces spaced closely around the walls made it possible to read fairly well. Bregan gestured that they should take the chairs on one end.

The Lord opened by saying, "You are known to us, Nag Kath. Tombor is my cousin (wasn't everyone?) and he said you treated him well in Orthanc. I heard about that little piece of mithril you, ahem, acquired."

The Elf acted surprised, "Oh that trinket? In truth My Lord, we explored the troll cave where I found it just two days ago. I had a look for more but that was the only one."

"And you were Mithrandir's student?"

"I was. He must have made friends here over the years too."

The Dwarf Lord reared back in his chair with a grin saying, "A few. And you, Mr. Edelbras, you are known to us as well. That you are here suggests seriousness on the part of our dear friends in Dale."

Edelbras operated in the shadows so recognition was a two-edged sword. He accepted the compliment as intended and repaid it with praise for the long line of Durin's Folk as neighbors. Bregan leaned forward without becoming any graver, "Now, there is the matter of your coming." The Lord nodded to his door guard who, in turn, nodded to another waiting just outside. The fellow was not armored but with Dwarves, it was hard to tell their experience. He approached like a soldier and stood until his Lord told him to find a chair.

"Hûrn, son of Hûrnd, tell your tale. These are friends."

Hûrn sat down and said, "Thank you, Lord Bregan. Three weeks ago I was the guard-rider with wagons making for Erebor on the northern route. The wagons were pulled by jurr-oxen and I had the only pony. At dawn two days west, there was a commotion at first light just to the other side of a small ridge on the right. The merchants continued packing and preparing for the journey so I stole up a dry creek for a look. There I saw two dozen orcs finding shelter in a series of little caves where rivulets had worn away weaker stone. By then there was bare light so these were not the bug-eyed orcs of the deep.

"They were getting out of the sun and did not send a sentry to investigate the clankings of my company. I stayed with my train for two more days until we reached the jurisdiction of Erebor, told the camp Sergeant what I saw and hurried back here. I did not tell the merchants."

Nag Kath asked, "Tell me, Hûrn, son of Hûrnd, did you see any among them who were not orcs, an Easterling perhaps?"

"Nay, sir. But some must have already withdrawn from my sight. They had some haste to find the dark."

Edelbras asked about wargs, weapons and demeanor. Hûrn confirmed initial reports but added, "I've seen service myself. This was no random lot of foragers. They were in what might pass for uniforms and they were soldiers, no error. I slipped into the site on my way back and the footprints were older heading east than west so either they had been that way before, or others had."

Bregan said, "Gentlemen, is there anything you need to ask of me before we join other trusted Dwarves?"

Nag Kath took that one, "Yes, Lord Bregan. What kind of army can you field come harvest time?"

"Enough, friend. Enough."

For a place with no visible cows, the Dwarves of the Iron Hills managed to spit half a side of beef over a slow fire with a delicious assortment of foods that hadn't touched it. It was the best meal some of the soldiers had ever had. The ale was good and, contrary to every report of their race, they had some Dorwinion wine if you preferred.

From here the road turned south with another day's ride to the intersection of the Iron and Dwarf Roads. Since his last trip, the beginnings of a town had sprouted. There were enough quarters to billet the men comfortably. Lieutenant Berandinar listened to their information but could not add any of his own. His men were already looking for activity to the west but he admitted he did not have the personnel to scout east of the river.

~o~

Edelbras did. If orcs were in league with their old pals, this was where one would see them. There was no real ford here since neither side wanted visitors from the other. That harvested a good, cold wetting in the crossing. The troop made camp immediately so they could risk fires to dry their things.

There was no road but the ground was the same kind of plain with thin grass like eastern Rohan. Edelbras had two van scouts riding a quarter mile ahead, often out of sight. Nag Kath was with them about half the time. That night they shared no fire and kept silent. One man stayed with the horses if they spooked. Nag Kath perched behind a rock overlooking a valley. He found what he was looking for. Three miles away, a hundred and twenty low figures trotted two abreast towards an overhang of the rock he sat on. It was an hour before sun-up.

The men's advantage was in daylight so the Elf planned to approach them just before the orcs sought cover.

Back at camp he gathered the men around him and outlined a plan they all thought was the sheerest form of madness. "I will walk down there before the sun rises and find the leader, see if we can come to an accommodation. Two of you stay where I was tonight. If I pull my sword, the fight is on. If not, I'll walk back and explain. Any questions?" Other than quietly questioning whether he was possessed, no one said a word.

Nag Kath left his bow and Charlo with Sarnt Tellig and made his way towards the orcs coming in from the northwest. They saw him about a hundred yards away, patiently sitting on a log. The entire troop loped forward another fifty yards and then three of them with a tsitsi warag came to within thirty feet.

In a voice he had only imagined, Nag Kath projected an echo in the black speech, "You travel far. It is of concern." Even the men on the rock heard it.

The largest of the three stepped forward a few more feet with his sword drawn and said in a more orcish version of the same tongue, "And what is that to you, Elf?"

"That is not your business. I am concerned about your commerce with low creatures to the south."

"You speak boldly for just one!" He looked at the warag.

"I speak boldly at all times. Those close by will know where you sleep soon enough." The Elf pointed at the little grottos dotting the saddleback ridge immediately behind him. As he did, his arm shone a beam of pure silver light along the base. Orcs don't sweat but if they did, they would have. There was some puckering among his watchers too, but they kept their eyes fixed on that long-sword buckled to his belt in the predawn light.

It was time to let the orcs breathe. "I do not care where you travel. You are welcome to north of the Iron Road. But if you join or assist with the Easterlings, powers will pee on your heads from great heights."

Their leader did not earn his spurs, in a manner of speaking, by taking lip from pasty firstborn. He spat and said, "We have little to eat for two years. It will take much pee."

"My friends are prepared to help their old enemies. You have long shown good judgment after mistakenly serving Sauron, the incompetent. The Easterlings you know are a faction that will lose just as he did. Crops on the Redwater will fail this year. You do not want to be seen helping the rogues when the Bror avenges."

The orc lowered his sword a little and asked, "Help, how?"

"Tell your Lugnash to offer the Easterlings help but do not come. I will deliver grain and dried fish to the Iron Road in return. It is for this year only. It is not tribute. Take it or settle with the Dwarves." Nag Kath shifted his weight, careful not to touch his sword. "Sheathe your blade and sit with me. We must not send you back to your Lugnash with empty promises."

The orc officer growled, "Do you have the symbol of the Servant? That is the sigil."

Nag Kath had no idea what he was talking about but didn't want to admit that. He probed, "No, I represent your indulgent neighbors who have no trouble with your Lord's realm. Come. Sit. Tell me of this symbol."

~o~

To the horror of his watchers, the Orc leader sat for the few minutes he had before sunup. Before he forgot, Nag Kath stretched one leg to take his quill knife from his pocket and cleaned his fingernails. The blade shone blue. Knowing it worked was worth the trip, if he lived.

The Orc Captain had useful information for his superiors and scurried into the nearest cave. Nag Kath waited until full sun and walked back to camp, gathering the men around him. "I think they will take the offer."

Edelbras snapped, "All right! Vertiggis, Sandoch, ride like ghosts back to the Colonel. Tell him, 'blue', along with anything else he wants to know. If Nag Kath agrees, I'd like to be well away from here when those orcs finish their naps." The two fast men headed back the way they came after Nag Kath gave them several Lembas cakes. The rest made for the Northwatch. The rearguard would have sore necks tonight from looking behind them.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Not much happened on the rest of the trip to Buhr Austar. The company stopped outside of town at Thain Conath's compound. Ardatha hurried from the house to the stable with a four-year old in hand and gave him a northern bear-hug and kiss in front of the leering troopers. As if they didn't know he said, "Men, this is my daughter, Princess Ardatha."

Those still in the saddle swung down in unison and bowed deeply. This was the King's sister. Now in her late forties, she showed the years but the smile was still strong and well-meaning. "Hello, da. Welcome back. Erig, this is Uncle Nag." The child was too busy looking at all the pretty horses to bother with the kneeling Elf but he was not frightened either, a good sign.

He asked her, "How's your middle da?"

"He's inside. He forgets things but he still gets around. Since Hadista died he keeps to the property." The Princess of Dale turned to Edelbras and said in royal tones, "You will find space and good provender for your men here, brave sir. I will look forward to proper introductions before a fine meal tonight."

Edelbras, who had been standing, bowed and told his lot to settle-in and look sharp doing it. Ardatha put her arm around Nag Kath's waist and led him and the youngster back to the main house. Inside he was warmly greeted by Ardatha's husband Reyald and his older brother Torrald. They had been good friends for many years. Since the Elf had not aged, it was like he never left. Ardatha's younger boy and girl came in to see Uncle Nag and were off again as soon as decency allowed.

From a back room were heard the rhythmic combination of two boots and a cane working their way closer. Before he was seen, "Is that him? Bout time!" Thain Conath emerged into the main room and was given the Dalish handshake by his fellow grandfather. Afterwards, Nag Kath grasped him by both shoulders and said, "It is good to see your ornery face, old friend."

"Ha! You have no better manners than when you left. I still remember you trying to throw that archery match when the children were married!" Everyone in the room smiled at a story told every chance it came up for air. The old Thain pointed with his cane towards the arrangement of couches and chairs where they always sat. In a more serious tone, "You're here on hard business too. Sorry about that. It is our doing, I fear."

"It keeps things lively, Thain. I'm with a dozen good men who are bunking now. They are led by Edelbras who acts a Sergeant but he is the King's best spy or I'm a fool."

Conath said boisterously, "We'll dine with the man! Here, sit, sit. Vireene! We have thirsty guests looking forlorn!" Tea or ale had been waiting since the horses pulled in and was brought by reliable, if slowing, family retainers. The Thain gratefully accepted Ardatha's help finding his seat and laid his cane next to his feet. "How old are you now, Nag Kath?"

"Just turned thirty four."

"You finally look it. The rest of us are getting old, except Ardatha, of course."

She retorted, "Oh da. I'm a grandmother."

Torrald, Thain in all but title, brought the conversation back to the present by asking, "What news from your trip, brother?"

"Good, so far. The Dwarves say they are committed. Better yet, I think I have bribed the orcs to betray the western faction of the Easterlings. They have to talk it over, and will probably play both ends against the middle, but that went well with no one dying. Now I have to assess things below us."

Reyald said, "Farmers say they'll pull in the wheat and barley by early August. The harvest will be poor, but more than the far side of the Redwater. If there's anything to steal, that's when. Stores are still good. Some farmers will just let horses graze what little came up and nourish the fields in the bargain."

Nag Kath said, "They should do that tomorrow and remove the temptation. Let us speak to Edelbras as well. Now, tell me of the family!" They spoke for another hour about grandchildren and horses and archery and horses again. Conath felt strong enough to walk out to the stables and lay on lusty praise for the King's Men's bravery. Both of his sons were known as the warriors he had been. Ardatha might be tougher than any of them. Tonight the family would dine separately with Edelbras and tomorrow they would put out the feedbag for all these stout soldiers after suitable viands could be ordered-up from town. That offer was met with hearty cheers.

~o~

Torrald remembered Edelbras from the Thainmoot two and a half years ago. The King's man was a gracious guest, making Nag Kath wonder again if he hadn't made considerably higher than Sergeant before recruitment by the quiet side of the crown.

Brother Reyald filled them in on what ears were hearing to the east. It was largely as thought with the new Bror not wanting to bloody his hands dealing with third brother if he could starve those provinces back his way. The Bror was of his father's peaceful view but would not mind if the Usurper and his renegades got themselves killed on the Dale side of the river. Essentially; Dale was put in the position to settle a political rivalry.

All first and second generation Easterling farmers were infantry at heart with arms and ferocity. They did not have cavalry for more than scouting or skirmishing and had no use for artillery, even if they could pull it, unlike their Balchoth ancestors. What made this different than petty squabbles before was that orcs were hungry to the north. They did not, correct that; probably did not have the swarms to hold territory, but they could keep the northern Thains and Dwarves busy enough to let Easterling infantry cross the river in force, hoping to share in the spoils. Nag Kath telling the orc Colonel of a bad harvest would sell their decision, if they believed him.

With his astonishing ability to say something outrageous as routine conversation, Nag Kath asked the party, "If I just kill this Frûnzar, will someone take his place?"

Everyone was shocked to silence except the old Thain who thundered, "Aye, they've got some sort of cult that prepares for the rising darkness!"

Torrold recovered first, "Fraid so, Nag. Frûnzar brought followers to him because he claims to be the prophet for sleeping Dark Lords. There's been minor sorcery reported. If so, whoever that is steps in, call themselves the Visitors."

Again, as if everyone seated dealt in deep magic, "That's been going around lately. I killed a Barrow-wight on my way here that transformed into a fish monster. The Lings tried witchcraft thirty years to kill Queen Delatha. Same witch tried again in Belfalas couple years ago. Do these cultists have any sway in Dorwinion?"

Reyald this time; "I don't think so, but if they did, there's nothing stopping them. Dorwinion couldn't put down a tavern brawl. Éomer is paying attention, though.

Nag Kath kept up the questions, "What about Nauthauja?"

Torrold answered, "Loyal, but weak. His best people keep leaving for better work in Dale or Dorwinion. He's got more horses than men to ride them."

Nag Kath seemed to relent, "That's our focus, then. Were I an Easterling holy man looking to lead his people to glory, once I've got horses, we can go where we want. How do I get around the pretender to see Bror Dulgov?"

It was too absurd for anyone else to contemplate. But coming from Nag Kath, it bore consideration. Torrald said quietly, "Dorwinion."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The next morning, Nag Kath and Ardatha found time to be alone. She was everything a father could want. And she had had four fathers, though one was by blood only.

Ardatha was not sure what would happen when dear Thain Conath died. Torrald would take his place and the big house. He and her Reyald were close but you can only have one Thain. It might be time for them to move to Dale too, or maybe Esgaroth, and raise the next generation of heirs. With the money settled on her by King Bard, Eniece, something from Conath and her grandmother's estates, they really didn't need Buhr Austar's rents in exchange for waiting thirty years until their son ascended.

Shurran was just fifteen and did not take to training the way they had hoped, a soldier but not a commander. Daughter Eniecia was thirteen and a dead ringer for her great grandmother Borenne. They might have to look further than the Buhrs for a husband. Of course, Torrold could still take a wife and sire heirs of his own. Nothing was certain.

Thain Conath made a good showing at the feast that night. About an equal number of his own troops complimented those of Dale. Ardatha excused herself early to not be the only woman. It was over at a modest hour. Torrald, Reyald, Edelbras and Nag Kath sat by themselves afterwards and talked about what needed to happen next. One thing that could not happen was Dale soldiers, however dressed, setting foot in Dorwinion unless there was war. That was part of the Reunited Kingdom. From the confluence of the Redwater and River Running to the west was unclaimed until halfway to the Rhûn.

Reyald proposed visiting the Thain of Nauthauja since of all loyal subjects of King Bard, he was closest to Dorwinion. From there, the King's men would ride back along the Redwater reinforcing the Thains' scouts while Nag Kath continued to Dorwinion to assess their readiness and consider ways to speak with the eastern Bror.

One thing in his favor was that Nag Kath had made an example of the current usurper's men's fathers a generation before. That went the old Bror's way. Their spies would have certainly noticed the attention the Elf received on returning to the capital. If anyone remembered now, it might either pave his way or keep people out of it.

Four days after they arrived, the King's Men, Nag Kath and Reyald made for the Ironhold and from there to Erland's Ferry, the last town of Thain Fändul's land. The current Thain was the brother of the Queen. Lieutenant Friskars was posted here at the border of Fändul and Nauthauja because he knew his business. There was legitimate commerce to and from the east and this was the only shallow crossing after miles of steep banks. Traders reported seeing irregular cavalry less than half a day's walk from the Redwater. No one had been bothered, but it was unsettling.

Nag Kath had never been further south than Austar and looked at the ground carefully the whole way. The barley crop was fair. The wheat was thin and the oats mostly dead, which was why farmers usually planted all three hoping one would flourish. Getting closer to Rohan, this was really horse country. Less scrupulous Thains and farmers had been known to sell horses to cloaked fellows with accents and ready nippers. Sometimes those fellows just helped themselves.

~o~

Buhr Nauthauja was a sleepy little town of mixed parentage. Most people were Northmen but down here you also found eastern and southern blood. There was also a strong streak of the Rohan ginger hair. Everyone had passable Westron but it wasn't always spoken at home. Reyald knew the place well and had the men dismount at the militia paddock. A gaunt old stableman was about to object when he saw Captain Conath and hard men of military bearing eyeing him coldly. "Good day, Captain. Does Thain Durnaldar know you're comin'?"

"I do not think so. If he is available, some gentlemen from Dale were hoping for a word on our way through. Nothing urgent, you understand."

The stableman whistled-up one of his grooms and told the man to let the Thain know he had guests. The fellow nodded twice and trotted over to the main compound. A few minutes later, he came back with a house steward who said the Thain welcomed them.

Edelbras, Reyald and Nag Kath followed the steward back to the office. Thain Durnaldar walked out to shake hands with Reyald and then Edelbras, in order. At the end of the line came the Elf. Durnaldar reached out first and then recognized him from the troubles with his sister. They both owed their lives to this creature though he nearly killed them first. No matter, he grabbed the Elf's hand and welcomed them all.

Durnaldar was a working Thain. He spent part of most days in the office with two clerks and his staff keeping the little Thainhold oiled. One of the concessions he got at his first Thainmoot after surviving the Elf's intercession was free access to the lands directly across the Celduin. It was not claimed by anyone and there were pockets of good pastureland. Farmers considered Nauthauja their market-town and paid district taxes, same as here.

Thain Durnaldar said to his secretary, "I will call it a day. Gentlemen, let us repair to my home."

By necessity, the Thain's residence was more fortified than Thain Conath's sprawling farmhouse. Bad 'uns with arrows had often tried to settle scores with Durnaldar's kin so it was made of stone two-stories up and the windows were louvered for archers. It could not resist any sort of artillery but never had to. The steward had already prepared the household staff who were waiting for their master bowing with clean hands. A lovely woman of about fifty came forward, bowed to her husband and received a peck on the cheek as reward.

Antulie had just given birth to their son when the witch and Easterling mess unraveled. She was a natural mother and had raised that boy and two girls in the traditional way. One girl was already married to a Guildsman in Celduin. The other had the same problem as Ardatha's children because there were no strategic matches left in their closed world. Everyone was friends these days. Their little Tilli was an attractive woman of nineteen and might have to display her breeding where parvenus paid for nobility.

Reyald took the lady's hand as a courtier, "Antulie, these are my friends Edelbras and Nag Kath. Neither name meant anything to her.

The Thain said, "Please come into the main room and make yourselves at home. Can I interest you in ale or wine rather than tea? It was late enough in the day for Reyald and Edelbras to have a pint. Nag Kath asked for cool tea. Antulie excused herself to see to the household and let the men have the room.

Durnaldar said more softly, "I thank you for coming. Reyald, there is fresh news along the Easterling trail. It seems Frûnzar and the Bror are exchanging more than insults. And we found out where they've been getting their horses: some were stolen here, a few are from Rohan but most are from their own farms on the Rhûn. They are squat, sturdy, mop-haired beasts but serviceable for riding in formation.

"From what we can tell, the pretender Frûnzar stole most of them before making his break known. His brother didn't want to admit it, called it an act of Ghrâr, or some-such. I sent a rider to the capital four days ago."

Edelbras stepped into his role as King's man, "Thank you for your vigilance, Thain. Here is what we know from the north; Orcs from above the Ered Mithrin have been visiting the Wildlands in armed parties but not in force. We think they are conspiring with the Usurper's side to tie-up our northern forces and weaken our eastern defenses. With some luck, we may have nipped that in the bud." He looked to Nag Kath.

The Elf continued, "I spoke with one of their Anglachors on our way here. That is a Colonel in our parlance. This is a learned guess but I think they thought to share in spoils from these lands for their cooperation. I told them the harvest here was not worth the trouble and tried to bribe them with grain and fish from Dale to get them through the winter. It will not take long for them to confirm the pickings down here will be sparse."

~o~

Durnaldar had aged well. Pretty as a young man, he grew handsome with the lines of age. A loving wife and family helped. Escaping his father's treachery by a hair, his relationships with both the Buhrs and Dale had been cordial ever since. The Thain leaned forward in his cushioned chair and asked, "You spoke to the orcs yourself?"

"It was my first tongue. I also find it strange to consult with them against men, but these fellows over the river are the trouble now."

Durnaldar said softly, "They will not have forgotten you, Nag Kath."

"I am counting on it."

~o~

The three guests had dinner with the Thain, his wife, and Tilli along with Durnaldar's chief of staff, Legoran. Tilli was pretty after both her parents but had her mother's raven hair and pale complexion. Her parents thought to take her to this year's Thainmoot for the book-learning that young women seemed to need these days but that had been canceled for what they now knew was the King's poor health.

Nag Kath did not think it would risk opening old sores to say, "Thain Durnaldar, I had occasion to visit your lady sister in Dol Amroth two years ago. She is healthy and happy. Her son is a promising fellow and by now will have been commissioned in their Marines."

Tilli, who like many modern women was allowed to speak at table, was a year older than Caladrion and intensely curious about the outside world. "Forgive me, Mr. Kath. I am not familiar with such service."

"Being surrounded by water, their armies must travel by sea to land or even fight on the sea in their great ships. They train both as sailors and then as light cavalry or infantry when they reach their destination. Your uncle is an officer of high repute and Caladrion follows his footsteps. Cal was kind enough to show me around his city when I was there."

Tilli said dreamily, "Oh, thank you." This blonde fellow was quite handsome and worldly. Like her mother, she had no idea he ripped black sorcery out of her aunt's mind before the woman could murder the King.

Antulie noticed her daughter's infatuation, "Mr. Kath, I hope you can tell us more of Durnalath's home during your stay."

Nag Kath gave the Thain a knowing look before turning to his hostess and saying, "I would be honored, ma'am."

Chief-of-staff Legoran asked, "Are you Kath of the Water?"

The Elf said, "News travels fast. Yes, I had a hand in that."

Legoran was a frustrated builder and culled bits and pieces of the grand project from traders who worked the Anduin before crossing the brown lands to the east side of Mirkwood. He held forth quite a while on the scale and scope of the work and asked lots of questions. Nobody stopped him because the innocent topic left dire matters off the table.

Reyald saw Tilli blush talking with his father-in-law and wondered if she might be a good late-season match for his brother. Torrold wasn't too old for children and it would keep his own son Shurran from ever having to be a strategist. Maybe Uncle Nag would teach him art or architecture.

The meal could have been fraught with tension but everyone had a good time and carried on later than most Nauthauja nights. In the morning, Nag Kath dressed and walked over to the barracks to catch Edelbras pulling on his boots. He sat on the next cot and said, "Things are going well."

Edelbras finished buckling the cinch and agreed, "Yes. That always bothers me. Do you still want to try your luck with the High Devil?"

"Not really, but it gives him an out. If they don't settle this on their side of the river, he will be hard-pressed to claim he wasn't involved. This is more your province than mine but Dale is likely to have a new King who might want to put his stamp on bothersome neighbors. Between you, me and that post, does the young man have the temperament to watch and wait?"

Edelbras was not used to being asked or divulging his inner thoughts but the Elf had earned it. "I think so. He is like his father that way rather than old Brand. Frankly, and you never heard this from me, both father and son are thinking more of the unclaimed lands south of the Celduin. For the longest time we thought Rohan would move horse masters across the brown lands, but they have not. If hungry Easterlings cross the river and leave with nothing, it signifies little."

Nag Kath said, "I still think I should go. This cult of the dark lord sounds bad. I know a thing or two about dark lords. If someone has tapped unclaimed powers, I'd like a word. Who of your ministry will be watching the orcs?"

"Teletchin, good man. You said if the orcs agree they will send word to Erebor?"

"That's closest. One of them will have some common speech. He just has to say 'yes'. Wagons of wheat and dried fish can get there after harvest and we've got peace to the north for another year. Maybe it leads to a lasting understanding." The Elf shrugged, "I can't be there, though. Let us discover what this Bror has on his mind."

Nag Kath ate lunch with the Thain's family. By then, son Durnalid had been recalled from his posting to the northwest. Unlike Ardatha's son, this one was a born leader and seemed wise beyond his years. His wife was a local girl like his mother and stayed home with their young daughter.

Nag Kath did not know how much anyone but the Thain knew about the Thain's father's intrigues so he would follow Durnaldar's lead if it came up. To her mother's consternation, Tilli wore an alluring scent rather than something more maidenly. The male members of the family didn't seem to notice so Nag Kath pretended not to as well. The girl was quite a looker. He sat directly across from her.

After the opening banter died, Durnaldar asked, "Now, Mr. Kath, I am glad you were able to see Durnalath. Letters are not quite the same as being there."

"Yes, she is happy and well placed in their society. Your sister is still an attractive woman and her son takes after her."

~o~

Durnalid had only met his aunt once when he was small and asked about the legendary Principality of Belfalas. Durnaldar still wondered how his sister was swept off her feet by a man from the furthest point in the free world but was glad she was well. Tilli asked about the courtly manners and elegance of the famed island capital as well. As Nag Kath was about to answer he felt her toes touching the side of his calf. These country girls make their feelings known!

Antulie had had enough, "How is it that you know Reyald, Mr. Kath?"

"He is my son-in-law." The foot was gone.

As they were finishing the sweets Nag Kath said, "Oh, sir Thain, it almost slipped my mind; An old woman, formerly of your lands, passed away in Osgiliath just before I left, a Mrs. Ingrall, though I do not know her maiden name. I believe she was known to your father."

In a very even, understanding tone, Durnaldar considered that, "I cannot place the name, Mr. Kath. I hope she was a fine example of our citizens."

"I am sure she was, sir."

Walking back to the barn Elf ears heard from the house, "Son-in-law! Of all the … I do not understand!" That was cause enough for a Nag-Kath grin.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The easiest ford south was three miles west across the Celduin before it met the Redwater. There was a well-kept merchant road the whole way and he saw traffic in both directions but mostly going north with wine or other edibles. On horse he could have cut corners but the road was so fair, and so full of people who loved to talk, he kept Charlo at barely above a walk and made camp around merchant fires.

There is a camaraderie of traveling traders that seems much the same anywhere in the free regions of Middle-earth. Yes, they will risk a black-eye defending their home's honor, but they have seen enough other homes to understand people do things their own way. Now with thirty orc-free years of hauling their goods back and forth on safe roads, folk were less like the soldier/traders of Tharbad or Dunland when Nag Kath first risked those paths.

He fell in with a train of three wagons who were taking barrel hoops to the winelands just west of the lakeshore. Dorwinion was not self-sufficient in iron-mongery. Barrels of wine were shipped north. Some were kept for use there but most were burned and the hoops collected for reuse.

"I'll tell you this for nothing!" said trainmaster Endulas in stentorian tones, "The Dorwinrim militia is the best in the world! Why do you ask, lad?"

"Well, Mr. Endulas, my uncle was up with the Gondoran archery trainers and he said the local rabble couldn't find their backsides with both hands." Nag Kath had no trouble lying for a good cause. He needed, among other things, to find out if this place could defend itself if the Easterlings had indeed started raising cavalry mounts on the other side of the inland sea.

"You're a beardless boy! Bet you've never even bedded a woman! I'll tell you this for nothing, maybe the louts in Brithen can't hit a target but you'll get a fat lip saying that in Riavod!"

"Haven't been since I was a boy." Nag Kath knew that young men like to put as much space as possible between their childhood and now. "When do we make the river mouth?"

"See it noon, day after tomorrow."

The old trader confirmed what Durnaldar thought; the Gondoran influence was limited to the far western corner of the sea. The northern shore was Easterling farmers and fishermen. More importantly, the Usurper's forces, such as they were, were well north of here so from the river mouth east was nominally controlled by the hereditary Bror on the other side of this pretty road.

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