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

23. Chapter 23 Khand

Chapter 23

Khand

~o~

His first two days took him southeast. The Sûrûbeki was clearer upstream of the Mistrand delta. He followed that for another day and then forded into what were called the horseplains of southern Rhûn. The eastern bank was a little greener than the east side of the 'Nose.' Folk were tending sheep and fields of gureeq. He expected the stares but in these lands, soldiers were the ones to avoid so farmers kept farming. The Ghurs had said as much.

The road would have been hard in a cart but it was fine for a horseman. It was hot in the afternoons. Charlo did well at a comfortable pace with just enough streams along the way. Nag Kath was given a leather bag that was cleverly sewn to hold water as long as you kept the seams upright. It held enough for three days which Prestigir said was plenty to refill at streams.

They reached the Temple of Lôkuthor on the second day. There were no such structures in the west. Grand buildings were often built in honor of those past but always intended to be used by those living. This was a building dedicated to a spirit where people came for blessings or interventions, said to somehow bring those spirits closer than their own homes. There was a village surrounding it and no one had claimed it for their own, so the old protections still warded against trespassing. Nag Kath did not have enough Plainstongue to ask who Lôkuthor was but he did manage to order a dinner of grain and a new green.

In the morning he walked through the temple with the feeling powers had stayed here before. Powers always leave a trace. For good or bad he could not say. Just east of town was a crossroads leading either south or continuing east. As the crow flies south would be faster but the terrain was rougher and water less common. There weren't a lot of horses on the horseplains. It was much like eastern Rohan with enough grass and weeds to feed flocks of hardy sheep. The only horses he saw were pulling carts or under troopers. One troop did ask his business but waved him on with no threat.

Water was getting more plentiful with rivulets snaking from rising ground on the steppe. Three days from the temple they crossed a creek that was stirrup high and fully forty feet across. It was colder than further west. It had a few fish that had not learned the difference between real bugs and hooks tied with string. That made for a welcome break after Lembas and gureeq porridge. He caught enough to last two days. Water here generally flowed north to the Rhûn drainage. Prestigir had recommended he follow the eastern fork of this river rather than take the road. It was not difficult ground and the grazing was better.

The land was neither pretty nor dull and except for a few areas of loose rock, they made good time. Five days of that landed them in an actual town of perhaps four hundred souls. It had an inn to serve travelers from the intersection of the road back towards Mordor, one north to eastern Rhûn and his path almost due south. This was about the ill-defined border between Rhûn and Khand.

~o~

And there were travelers, mostly men walking loaded mounts. Wares were made rather than grown since anywhere you went had the same crops. There were tinkers, smiths, men selling weavings from his intended destination. One old man and his grandson sold fine threads in different colors for embroidery. There was also a healer with a stock of herbs and ointments for pains. With her remedies she also kneaded muscles with her powerful hands to remove soreness. Nag Kath tried that for a groat. His muscles seldom hurt very long but it seemed a new sort of healing to him. Skeptics might think the woman was hawking other physical comforts but given her build and face, it would be the pleasure of last resort.

He stayed here a couple days, mainly to rest a split in one of Charlo's hooves. It wasn't necessary but neither was making it worse wandering the back of beyond. The inn had beds stuffed with some sort of straw that was quite soft so Nag Kath even slept a little after being pummeled by the stout healer. He was refreshed the next day. To pass the time, Nag Kath drew children's pictures for them to keep. Usually their mothers or grandmothers watched with a mixture of uncertainty and enjoyment. The blonde man seemed safe enough and this was the most exciting thing their little ones had seen in some time.

As luck would have it, they would have enjoyment two days running. The next night featured entertainment that attracted townsmen and many from surrounding hamlets to watch players sing, dance and reenact historical events. It was a third-cousin to Catanard. Well into the presentation, Nag Kath realized the players represented local gods, demons and creatures in-between. Some were grim and solemn. Others were mischievous sprites or comical people caught in the great-ones' wiles. Music was played on pipes and drums or little brass plates that rang at different pitches. Like low Catanard, the audience cheered or hissed the characters which only made their antics funnier.

The show was done in something else he hadn't seen. A piece of hill had collapsed years before creating about two-thirds of a bowl at a good angle for people to sit. Most brought blankets. The bottom of the bowl had been flattened to serve as the stage. Men in gray carried brightly painted screens representing nature or indoor backdrops. There was quite an array of colors for a place that seemed so tan.

Nag Kath was starting to notice men and women looked more like each other the further he got from the Anduin. Most had smooth, olive or light brown skin. Men were not heavily bearded. That favored the women whose eyes were always dark brown with carefully plucked eyebrows. Both men and women of stature wore bracelets of what looked like silver, sometimes with garish colored stones. Many wore hats of long cloth that could serve as masks if high winds blew stinging sand. Two women gave him long looks but they did so firmly gripped by their husbands. That was fine. He had work to do.

~o~

The southern route from here would stay on the river the whole way. It had a fish that wasn't quite a trout but tasted close enough. He enjoyed those, cooked in his Trum Dreng skillet, until they made the regional capital of Tuarcmindon. Charlo's hoof was still a concern so they stopped with plans for another two days at an inn near a farrier. Nag Kath had learned some horse-words and the blacksmith knew a little Westron. The man knew horseshoes too and pulled a nail he thought was too close to the break.

It was lucky that the Elf had made it this far through formerly enemy territory without incident. Nag Kath helped by not staying out after men had time to drink much and he left the women alone. Sometimes even that is not enough. He ate at a place that served nothing more potent than tea with dinner. Walking out the door, three young bucks in ordinary clothes but wearing the lapel gorgets of Broric cavalry started jeering at the oversized blond foreigner. He smiled and played ignorant before walking the other direction.

The catcalls grew uglier. If he ran, he would be chased. If he used 'The Fast', a lot of people would see it, the same for a confusion spell. Reasoning would not help in a different tongue. These lads were spoiling for a fight. He turned as the three approached. Either they were not expecting him to stand or they were deciding how to throw the first punch. All three carried swords and he had his. If they touched theirs, they would die.

The shortest of three short men came a step closer and proclaimed something that probably insulted his mother and his complexion. Nag Kath did not even blink. The fellow thought he would try again a step closer and was instantly on his backside with blood pouring from his nose. The other two didn't see the punch but threw themselves at the stranger catching the same right fist across both jaws. They would be out for hours. The Elf smiled and pulled the lead assailant to his feet. The move also included a very small confusion spell. Nag Kath put his arm around the man, maybe still a boy, and walked towards his inn like they were best friends. Butchering an already butchered tongue he asked, "What's your troop?"

Doubly confused, the fellow took a few moments to speak but then spilled, "Actum's Third Horse."

"Fine unit. Brave men all."

"Umhummm."

"How many of you are there?" His Plainstongue was not that good. He tried again, "Many men?"

"Two and twenty."

"Proud men. Go help friends."

The trooper meandered back towards a small crowd gathered around two of Actum's Third. Between the drink, the punch and the spell, he would have a sore head tomorrow. The innkeeper, like most innkeepers, had better language skills than the merchants to either side. He said the company was billeted east of the large paddock. Nag Kath spent his time near the river.

~o~

From here it was a nine or ten day ride to Lhûg. He did see other militia troopers. This might be their training season if they worked like Dale or Gondor. Farmers pulled grain in earlier than in the west. The river valley kept him from seeing very far to either direction but this was quite fertile. Along with the grain were plots of cucumbers and marrow-roots. There were gourds that people baked or stuffed with other foods. There was cotton too. That was prized in the west because it made such fine, soft clothing. He bought a bolt hoping someone might replace the garments that months of travel were thinning. And the women kept getting better looking. They had not yet followed the Gondoran fashion of exposing their forearms but what he could see was appealing.

It had been a while.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

On the 3rd of July he reached the town of Lhûg. It was the confluence of two rivers from east and west forming the stretch he had traveled. There might be as many as five-thousand citizens of the local Khan. Now aware of the quality of fish, he wandered on foot through a busy market looking at dead eyes staring back. There were whisker-fish and others as well. He asked the price, the first phrase he learned, and found them all about the same.

Having him pay with a special coin at a known place was more obvious than Nag Kath liked. They couldn't get him, but anyone else burned with hot irons would divulge. Maybe it was a man who washed the plates or delivered vegetables. The innkeeper would certainly handle the money though. He acted distracted and asked about a shop he passed coming this way. He wasn't to pass the groat until tomorrow so he explored. Three soldiers like the ones further north passed him by. They looked at the oddity and returned to their conversation.

Dinner tonight was a fish stew with something resembling ale made from gureeq and millet. It could not possibly be good until it was. The brew was lighter than those of the west with less alcohol but it tasted fine and went well with dinner. Since there were no Dwarves to drink with, he just had one.

The next day he saw another healer who kneaded muscles as her primary labor. This one was poured in the same mold as the first. When she was done abusing Nag Kath's back he felt a little dizzy but it passed. She spoke a bit of Westron and told him that this was a time-honored service passed from mistress to adept over ten years of apprenticeship. They needed to be strong and they also needed to learn the points causing pain or where blood was not running true. She assured him his blood was fine. That was worth two groats.

~o~

It was time to spend the coin. The inn was serving lamb stew tonight. There was no getting out of it. Carrots and greens were identifiable. They served the same ale as the other place. He laid the groat on the edge of the table but the server never claimed it. After the lamb chunks were long cold, he caught the maid's attention and pointed at the groat. She smiled and said, "No, he pay." When she turned to point at his benefactor, the table was empty.

Nag Kath smiled back and said, "You keep." That was for her, not her employer. The coin was gone faster than "The Fast."

Outside there was a breeze, not enough to need the cloth face mask but some folk had their robe-hoods up. He did not wear a robe but he did pull his hat down to stay on. His room was upstairs so if no one approached him shortly, he would see if they had invited themselves in. The confusion spell on his bags might help them answer questions.

Nobody came. Nobody was upstairs. The next move was theirs. He went into a soft rest and thought about the play two weeks ago.

~o~

Up with the sun, Nag Kath had a look at Charlo's hoof. It was fine. There was a small cane cylinder tied in his mane. Soothing his horse he combed it into his fingers. Other than a sleeping stableboy no one was here so he opened the note and was instructed to ride west after settling his affairs at the inn. He paid in advance so that was no more than collecting his bags.

This was the unused road, there not being much commerce with eastern Mordor. Nag Kath wondered if this was where Vientis' fine spectacle glass was melted. There seemed no place to hide if you wanted to surprise a rider here. That meant there was. He kept Charlo at barely more than a walk along the stream. After half an hour, he checked the stream for humors and let the horse drink.

The man was quiet. Nag Kath heard him before a man would but this was no Northman trampling his way through briars. A short, slight fellow of local complexion walked up to the road above the bank and said, "A lovely day. Do you have coin for me?"

"I don't give money to every rough lad who asks."

"I only need one groat."

Sorry, I gave it to the maid."

"A coin like many others. I am sure it was well spent."

Nag Kath walked Charlo up the bank and bowed to the man whose own horse was tied fifty paces away. The fellow looked up at the Elf and said, "Come, we have no small distance ahead."

~o~

Unlike the chatty ride with Verdracht, his guide did not say another word for two hours. The scenery was much the same, horselands with no horses. Patches of green were here and there but they were not farmed. Nag Kath wondered if the rain in these streams was new since Mordor changed hands. There was game; small deer that kept their distance.

The guide finally said, "We will ford here. They crossed to the middle of the same river and walked upstream several hundred feet before picking their way up a spill of shale chips that left no tracks. From there they rounded a hill bearing east into a secluded valley created by one of the streams feeding the river beside their route. It could not be seen from the road. The age of spying crows must be over.

The place looked much like Yhammâs Fruhir but twice the size. There was a large hall, several large but squat buildings and a dozen dormitories or apartments following the contour of the slope. Both horses were tied in front of one of the larger administrative buildings and the men walked in as they removed their gloves.

"Wait here, please."

Nag Kath did. There was a woman who looked like she could have wrestled both of his muscle healers with one hand. She gave him a placid look but said nothing.

Another man, taller but still Khandian, came out of a hall and bowed before silently gesturing for the Elf to follow. Four doors down they entered a modest room with a dining table and eight chairs. The walls had hangings and tapestries a bit like those of Minas Tirith but they were hunting or nature scenes rather than battles and Lords. Moments after he arrived, another man dressed in darker brown clothes followed behind them and shut the door.

After they were seated, the man in dark said, "I am sorry you did not hear back, Mr. Kath. The messengers were ill and detained. You may have passed them on your way here." This man's speech had the lilting quality ascribed to Khand but his Westron was good.

The man who showed him in added, "It was unfortunate you were not here to help. They are fine now." This man's accent was unplaceable, much like folks said of the Elf's until he worked around his orcish inflections.

In his normal voice Nag Kath soothed, "The Ghurs were concerned. I am glad they are healed."

Brown said, "The messengers told us you would be staying in Yhammâs Fruhir for at least a month. I hope your visit was profitable."

Like his interview there, no one introduced himself but they were affable. Nag Kath thought of them as Mr. Tan and Mr. Brown. A man brought tea for all but did not offer mug choosing. This was the true Telandrin. He would get some for Mr. Tallazh! In answer, "I learned a great deal about this part of the world, and of things past."

"Ahhh," said Mr. Tan. "We come to that. Would you mind telling us why you are here?"

"No, but perhaps some introductions are in order first. I am Nag Kath. I do not know what you know of me but I am no secret anymore."

Mr. Brown said, "We know of you, Nag Kath. I am Khilestu. My associate is Choran Zielthir. You might describe us as the soldiers of right-living.

It would be hard to stop thinking of him as Mr. Tan but Zielthir added, "Rhûn certainly knows of you. Thought I grieve for mothers and wives, our position has improved. We hope you have leisure to stay here and taste different fruit of the same tree."

"My time is yours."

Their time did not start now so Nag Kath took Charlo to the stable and followed his guide to deposit his bags in a larger and more comfortable room than his last, housed in one of the dormitory buildings. It had a small glass window facing north. Dinner was much the same as in Rhûn as well with a mess hall serving men, women and even more children in two waves. The red sauce earned his respect.

~o~

Khandians do not come in thick sizes. Some in Minas Tirith eventually ate their way to plump but it took work. In the long history of here and five hundred miles in any direction, bodies learned to live with less. No sooner had he thought that than a man favoring northern Rhûn with a Northman's beard and tight vest sat across from him and reached a paw over in western fashion. "Name's Tolvern, Richas Tolvern. Welcome to Hanvas Tûr."

In an equally hearty voice was returned, "Nag Kath, good to meet you."

The fellow broke his fresh loaf and dipped it in some sort of stew. "Are you here for the Recitations?"

"I hope I have not missed them."

"Nay, don't start until Wednesday, though you would not know it for all the people practicing. Gelansor is but once a year!"

Nag Kath had forgotten about that. Yes, the time is right. Two years ago he was listening to Orlo fondly remembering his wife's affections after three days of celibacy. He hadn't forgotten about why he was here or how to innocently extract information. "I hope to meet some old friends as well. Tomorrow I shall explore."

"Good! You do that." Nothing came of the probe but they talked amiably for the rest of the meal about nothing consequential and looked forward to meeting in due course. There was still good light when the later meal shift filtered in so Nag Kath took his constitutional walk and surveyed the grounds. Both right-living retreats had no military defense. If they were attacked, they would fight on open ground. Those days might be over but raiders would not need dark lords to steal horses. There would be other defenses.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

His waking rest was more peaceful than usual. There was a calm here that helped thoughts glance away effortlessly. One day he might even discuss this with a real Elf. It lasted longer than usual too, almost four hours if he read the night correctly. Insects were singing in full voice. There must be a pond because frogs were giving them a good run for their money.

He opened his eyes with the sun and dressed. This time, he did not lay a spell on his bags. He was past protecting possessions. Sure enough, there was a pond, two of them actually, one feeding the other. Romantic frogs jumped in the water when he walked around the bank.

He froze. A duu crow (crebain) in a short tree preened itself watching for food. Nag Kath watched it motionlessly for five minutes. A woman walking by was about to say good morning but the Elf looked so intent she held her tongue. The bird did not seem interested in larger goings-on. After his feathers were in order, he stared below the tree and eventually floated down for some morsel. Quarry bagged, he flew off to the north.

So, they lived. Perhaps no one had the power to draw them to his will. Or if anyone did, they did not use crows. Mr. Tan approached as the crow was flying away and said, "They are just birds now. Come, it is story-time."

There were four men and the large woman from the office in the meeting room. Cold tea was already in several pitchers. People helped themselves and sat where they liked. Like in Yhammâs Fruhir, these were not formal, lordly gatherings. They were plain folk who had shown skill and wisdom. Nag Kath took a seat near the end after pouring a mug.

Khilestu spoke after everyone was settled, "Sirs and ma'am, this is Nag Kath who was sent to us from Rhûn. There he spent six weeks learning of our order and wishes to help. He has also seen service. Who of us knows of him?"

Only one man nodded. The woman had hot tea and it was finally cool enough to take a long, satisfying pull. She asked, "What do you know of us, Nag Kath?"

"I learned some fundamentals from a man in Kugavod two years ago and as Khilestu said, I visited Yhammâs Fruhir, learning your ways for six weeks. I favor them and wish you all success, but I am come to discover if the Visitors are capable of congress with remnants of the Dark Lord.

"Before I ramble on, may I ask what know you of remaining sorceries in western lands?"

"A handsome younger man in modest dress said, "I, for one, am not conversant with such tales. For long lives, folk in the east were only told what our masters wanted us to believe. Since then, we have had other concerns." There was general head nodding in agreement.

Nag Kath said, "I will try to be brief but this may take days." He smiled, "This is not sacred lore. Ask questions, offer opinions and disagree at any time." He gathered himself, "I am probably of Saruman's blood. It saved me in what you call the reckoning and gave me minor sorcerous powers. I was also schooled, too briefly, by Gandalf ere he departed and Radagast to a smaller degree. I can heal like the women who can pull ailments and poisons.

"There are large burials of Angmar and Dunnish warriors scattered throughout the west, thousands of men. It is said, and I believe, that they are undead and wait for their revenge when called forth. Now, here is where it becomes uncertain. These wraiths and wights were cursed to this state by the Witch-King of Angmar, largely during his service to Sauron. He is dead. His ring was destroyed, but these spirits remain. I killed one two years ago trying to reach us. There are other powers, neither foul nor fair, that await summoning. That must never happen."

~o~

An older man, bald but with long hair around the sides that was woven into his beard said softly, "I know of such things, but my friends do not know of the wizards. I rode with Falmür near the Gap when Dunlending militias joined us against Helm's Deep before the war. Nothing came of the engagement but they told stories of fell graves in the south of their lands that no man of reason would visit. If Nag Kath believes it, I do as well."

Nag Kath took advantage of their silence to continue, "I believe I was invited to your service, though I can find no one to confirm that this was not an invention of my confusion. I encouraged the Bror to stop his brother from invading the west. He would not let me leave before he confirmed, and thankfully destroyed, most of the Frûnzal's infantry. I was sent to a comfortable confinement where I met a man who called himself Orlo." The Elf paused to gauge reactions. Seeing none he continued, "We were in each other's company for three of nine days and he told me much of Gelansor and the views of right-living. He was retired from building fishing boats and held hostage against a family debt.

"Again, I can not seem to give you a plain story; the garden in which we stayed did not exist. When I returned I found an abandoned horse ring. The walls were in ruins. I drew sketches of Orlo's hut with a porch and rails that had never been there. He had a helper who seemed real but was not, or was confused as I was. The man may have also been of your order and I hope you will tell me when I deserve that trust. Here is a drawing I made of Orlo."

Nag Kath passed the picture around the table. They all had the same reaction, a long look followed by no recognition. The older man was to the Elf's right and got the picture last. He gave it the same study but something stuck. Nag Kath would remember that.

"It would have taken power to create that glamour, power greater than mine. I did not sense malice. I returned to service in the west but there were enough things wrong in my mind to draw me back. It was a test as well. I needed the wit and courage to return. Perhaps I flatter myself, but I know enough of confusion spells to know I was taken like a greenbottom in the market. I would dearly like to meet this fellow again."

Mr. Tan asked, "You are here for more than that, though."

"Yes Ghur Zielthur Orlo, the man, may help me keep fell spirits from rising again. I am here to discover if the people you call the Visitors have any real power or they are trading on past glory to exhort ordinary armies."

The last man to speak was the one who had heard of him but had little common-tongue. Nag Kath recognized this as the speech of the Haradrim from experience on the aqueduct. He spoke gently but his voice was resonant and vital. "I heard tell of you from the water. You healed our sick and praised our labor." The man spoke quietly to the young man briefly for translation and continued, "You have destroyed an army to the north. In my lands there are many young men who tire of farming and toil without notice." He stopped to speak to his neighbor again. No one filled the pause.

Finally, the younger man spoke for him. "Harad is fertile in sons. A man is judged by his family and sons. There is the next army."

Satisfied it had been said the old man finished, "You are counsel to Elessar. Many will seek your death."

If any expected that to dissuade him, Nag Kath smiled and said, "I fear so. While I am here, I need to know how to confound these Visitors in their nest."

Mr. Brown wanted to speak with his people and thanked the Elf for coming. Gelansor started in two days so decisions would have to wait.

~o~

Nag Kath left the room wondering just how much they knew about either the apparition of Orlo or the operations of the Visitors. The old boy knew more than the others. This would all have to be done with finesse. These people were on his side. Things always revealed themselves. He was more Elvish than he knew.

That afternoon the powerful woman saw him sitting by the pond and joined him. For such a large figure she sat gracefully and said, "I am a healer also. Perhaps we can discuss that while you stay. I am Nenwûla of the Viersh."

"I am honored Nenwûla of the Viersh. Anything I can learn to help those in need is welcome. Are you of the school of kneading soreness from the body?"

She said, "I am, though with herbs and the occasional drawing. We were not appreciated here so there are few."

Nag Kath told her of the good and bad in his experience. "Your talent in body kneading, how does that ease distress?"

She brightened, "We call it Fanzhic. I do not know for immortals such as yourself, but for men and women, tension and waste builds in muscles. This loosens them so they can be expelled. Certain nerves and veins can also be constricted. Learning takes so long because we must not harm them in relief."

She cocked her head, "You said your service was more of drawing."

He smiled, "Yes, that is probably the same as women like you. I am not very good. Remedies take me time to recover. Wise healers teased me that I do not know my limits. Alas, I had more practice than I should have liked with the fevers of Osgiliath. I have some skill in birthing."

She giggled, "Men usually do not offer such care. It makes them nervous."

"Men fear what they cannot control. They bluster for excuses but the bringing of life belongs to women. Now, what recitals will you share?"

"Recitations are said alone Nag Kath."

"Oh, for some reason I thought they were aloud."

"You are thinking of the men practicing. They compete in fellowship to improve. Women practice theirs alone, though, I suspect some may assist each other privately. I have a good memory and the texts are quite short."

Nag Kath tried to keep the amusement off his face. "My imaginary friend said he tried to remember his but sometimes needed to review. He also said that younger men would write their own."

Nenwûla paused with concern but regained her humor saying, "He must have been teasing. It would be silly to rewrite that which is known."

Nag Kath walked back to his room thinking; 'that old devil!'

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath lay with his hands behind his head trying to remember every word of the old boat-wright. There were nuances layered on others. He had a good memory too but it was getting stale. His education began in earnest when a man stood at the jamb of his open door. People here were soldiers of right-living. This man was a soldier anywhere. He said in fair Westron, "Let us speak."

The Elf slipped into his boots and followed him to the pond. The fellow looked about thirty, so too young for the ring war. He was taller than most of these short people and had scars on both hands and under his chin that the beard could not hide. He was an officer, no error.

The man said without preamble, "I am Shelturn. I was instructed to explain how the Visitors fight."

Shelturn veered off the path and walked to a stone table with benches on either side for outdoor eating. They sat across from each other. The Elf got the impression that his instructor was not entirely pleased with his errand. It might be that tough men of the wilds did not like or like being seen with pretty men. Shelturn asked, "What do you know of their soldiery?"

"Nothing. My only experience was with a camp preacher. He was young. Nothing about him said he could swing a sword."

"That is what we call a Ghorandul. They are sent to existing troops."

Nag Kath said, "Well let me ask you this; Frûnzar had about fifteen hundred foot soldiers ready to cross and another four hundred cavalry fording above to secure the landing. How many of these Ghoranduls would have been there?"

~o~

That was a more soldierly question than Shelturn was expecting from the pale girl/man. He had been told nothing of the blood on those elegant hands. It deserved a considered answer, "Five to ten, plus the Richtren near the general."

The Elf mulled that and said, "I think that one died, else the other men would have turned on him after the defeat."

Now that this northern creature had earned some grudging respect, they spoke for an hour about structure, weapons, tactics and quickening. It seems the Visitors had small army units of their own as well as training counselors and spies for distant warlords.

Nag Kath was completely ignorant about these lands after the unmaking. In the west, stragglers of enemy powers were efficiently killed or brought to terms, like in Dunland. The northern Easterlings were a model of organization since the new Bror brought enough men back to secure the population.

But inside Mordor and two hundred miles around the open end of the mountains, the slaughter was worse than the war. After thousands of years of abuse and oppression, released slaves, dirt-farmers and survivors fell on each other and returning orcs like wargs for what little was left. It was only in the last five years that the warlords came to grudging accommodation with each other over borders and water. It was a hard life, perfect for an order to cultivate bilious ambitions of men who had always taken what they wanted.

Nag Kath asked Shelturn, "Where is their lair and how do I destroy it?"

The soldier became haughty, "That is not for your ears."

~o~

The Elf stared at him for a moment. He was naturally patient. He had been so in Rhûn and here too. But it was time to dispense with his farm-boy charm and state matters in terms they could understand. Shelturn gasped and tried to wrench invisible hands from his throat. An instant later he was flung headlong into the smaller pond. Nag Kath left him submerged for half a minute and then hauled him back at his feet, a combination of Flor's lover and the fish-wight spells.

In his best Elf Lord voice, "Tell me where or next time I leave you under." He was not a hairless pleasure boy. And if these people had sorceries of their own, they could explain those at the same time.

All Shelturn got out at first was pond water. Then he managed, "I will speak to the Ghurate." With such dignity as he could muster, the soldier rose and walked back to the buildings.

Nag Kath skipped dinner. At the end of the day, Mr. Brown poked his head in the open door. "We never had a choice, did we?"

"No."

"Let us get through Gelansor. Then we will talk." He started to leave and returned to say, "Thank you."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The three days went smoothly. Nobody looked at him more suspiciously than they had so the dunking must have stayed quiet. Most people kept to their quarters but there were public lectures and small meetings during the off-hours. He saw Shelturn once but neither spoke. He saw Nenwûla of the Viersh twice. That felt staged. She was sweet on him. Others nodded and bowed, often smiling but usually trying to remember their verses. Elf ears heard backsliding on the joining of man and wife. It colored his wakeful rest.

The morning after the observance, the young man of the council found Nag Kath sitting by the small pond. He was sketching the hills to the north. New trees had waited an age to embrace the sky. They were still short but held so much promise. Had Radagast or the Ents come here out of pity?

The Elf rose before he was addressed and followed the Ghur back to the office. The same people were there and two new ones. On the left was a short, wiry fellow with close-cropped gray hair and light-brown skin. He wore robes of Harad, maybe the south part as Nag Kath remembered the Mumikil crews. To the right was a woman nearing forty whose face showed both beauty and sadness. She had fine features in the eastern tradition, wrapped head to foot in a tan robe with hints of color beneath. Nag Kath sat without taking tea.

Mr. Brown said, "Nag Kath, I am sorry we forced your hand. It was probably for the best. Sometimes it is hard to imagine that such as you still exist. We are agreed that if you wish to deal with the Yvsuldor, we will aid."

The Elf asked tentatively, "Yvsuldor?"

"It is hard to pronounce for your race. Visitors are what we call the emissaries. Their base is at the west end of the Nûrnen Sea, where three rivers empty. That is the best farmland in Mordor and so it is where they command."

For two hours they talked about how to get there, the approaches, the size of the garrison, their financial support and dozens of other logistical items. In many cases, the Ghurate admitted they did not know or offered their best guess. Nag Kath asked, "Who is in charge?"

~o~

The new woman spoke for the first time in a soft, clear voice, "His name is Nulvanash. He has been their leader for twelve years, a soldier who came up through the ranks. He is a ruthless man and does what he wants." She took a sip of tea. This was hard for her to say. "Nulvanash may show mercy or compassion. If he changes his mind, it is terrible. There are a dozen men near him every hour and two companies of thirty as permanent guards. They cannot be bribed."

Nag Kath knew she had learned this the hard way. They would speak privately. It was time for the essential question, "What manner of sorcery does this Nulvanash command?"

The woman, as yet unnamed, explained, "He holds a ring. It is plain and gold. He wears it at all times. It is said to have powers of old, of the days when fell lords demanded all."

The Haradrim asked, "Now that you know of their defenses, what hope have you of taking it?"

Nag Kath said with the faintest touch of whimsy, "I intended to be invited."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Now that he had answers, everyone was surprised at how patient their guest became. He studied, practiced archery, attended some of the smaller lectures and even a few of the larger hall congregations. His Plainstongue improved but the more common tongue here was Variag (Khandian). And he sought an audience with the mysterious woman of the meeting.

It could not be granted because she did not live there. She had come from Lhûg during Gelansor when answers were needed. He would go to her if someone would arrange the introduction. Four days later, he was told he would be received the next day. Charlo had had enough right-living. After better than a week in a small paddock; he wanted to run. And run they did.

Her name was Chûran and she lived in a private home on the western edge of the town. A small, dark maid cracked the scrolled peep door and then opened the main door without a word. He was expected. She showed him into the main room and gestured for him to sit in an upholstered chair that sank so low his knees point at the ceiling. Hot tea arrived. A few minutes later she came down the stairs. He had to catch himself thinking she was Eniece. The woman was smaller but proportioned the same, her hair almost black but showing red highlights. She was still covered from neck to feet but with fewer layers. Chûran bowed before sitting in a matching chair to his side.

In the same, lyric accent of the meeting she said, "You seem distracted, Mr. Kash."

"Forgive me, you reminded me of my wife."

"She waits for you at home?"

"I am afraid not."

The woman blew across the rim of her mug and set it down without sipping. "How can I assist my friends?"

"You have experience of Nulvanash." It was a question.

There was the smallest trace of a smile. It changed her face completely. "I do. I was among the tribute girls taken when I was sixteen. I came from a village on the Sirlish, this side of the Nûrnen. The warlord of Furnar Durosh chose others for his needs and the rest of us were given to junior officers. Mine was Nulvanash. He kept me and used me when he wanted.

"As his power grew, he chose to work quietly. Rather than command armies that fought and often lost, he would advise and bring other tyrants to his thinking. The ruler of the Furnar Durosh had an unfortunate accident and Nulvanash was elevated to his position. His men invested two neighboring districts including the capital city at the three river delta. I was taken to oversee new girls coming as tax from those with nothing else."

Her tea was cool enough to sip. She delicately touched her lips with an embroidered cloth and seemed lost in her thoughts. Nag Kath spoke gently, "And now it is you who are distracted, my Lady."

Her eyes cleared and she offered the same tiny smile, "I am sorry. I fear your memories are more pleasant than mine. After a few years, he grew tired of me. I expected to be passed among his captains for their own pleasure so I went away one night with a few mementos of our time to help soften my new life. I hope you are not shamed to be in my company, Mr. Kash."

"Not at all. The lady of whom I spoke had much the same befall her. Lords on both sides of the river have their way."

"Thank you, Mr. Kash. That was kind. Now, what plans for my old keeper?"

~o~

They spoke for an hour. She told him of the spy who lived only a few blocks away. The man certainly knew of her but not her past. Before they parted, Nag Kath took his sketch pad and had her describe both Nulvanash's face and his ring. The face took quite a while but the ring was a simple gold band like the description of the One Ring in the Red Book. He asked her, "Do you know of a jeweler who can fashion a ring like his?"

"I do."

Nag Kath placed a gold Florin in her hand and said, "It is better that you place the commission. I will take lodgings in the town and return as my plans develop. Will you help me set a trap for the spy?"

That netted a better smile, "Oh yes."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Chûran visited the jeweler the next morning. He was not the most prestigious but he was discreet. That mattered in a land where a woman's jewelry was her dowry. A plain ring like this should pose no trouble. She even brought a ring her master wore on the same finger of his other hand for sizing. It would not take that much gold so the craftsman's payment would be what was left of the coin. It should be ready to inspect in two days.

Nag Kath took a room in a different inn nearer to the spy. His name was Ureano. He was not a Visitor. His sympathies were for hire. Ureano was a merchant. Part of his inventory was secrets. He plied the road from Eastern Khand to Eastern Mordor. In that luckless land, the power, army and orcs had always been concentrated on the Gondor side. Out here, they grew the food and made the weapons. By some astonishing piece of luck, the Nurnen had edible fish, though the water was foul tasting. Sauron allowed rain to fall and sun to shine for grain to feed his troops.

Here in Khand, rulers had their own plans. Having avoided sending every soldier to the fiasco on the Pelennor, Khanate borders were largely as drawn centuries before. Men like Ureano knew what people liked in both places.

Nag Kath was slightly surprised that the Khagan of Upper Khand had no political connections in Mordor. Men like Ureano were a good way to send discreet messages and it was understood that the man would share any hostile intentions towards Khagan Yigresh, that or large soldiers would see how long his innards stretched. Both sides played to win.

The Elf kept an eye on the merchant's home but he was not there. A servant left to market with a shadow as he visited the different stalls. The man got very little food suggesting he did not have to prepare anything for a returning master that day. When he stopped for tea and a pipe, Nag Kath had a look around Ureano's house. It never hurts to know what kind of spices someone likes. A woman came in with her own key so it was a short visit.

Nag Kath took the long way to see Chûran the next day. He was not followed. The maid received him and he was shown a taller chair with hot tea coming. The woman herself was in the food preparation area. Like all better homes, the cook stove was outside and everything else for meals was done just inside.

She seemed more relaxed, though her movements were still deliberate and exact. Were those the motions of a slave who must never disappoint? "I have ordered the ring. It should be ready to view tomorrow, Mr. Kash."

"Just Nag Kath."

"Just Nag Kash." Her common tongue was fair but there are some sounds not all Khandian speakers master. Chûran's accent was a mix of western Khand and the Plainstongue of the unfortunate men who lived in Eastern Mordor.

He was gentle, "I need to ask some very specific questions. If you feel they are too personal, let me know."

She touched her lips with the delicate cloth and said, "Nag Kash, I have nothing personal. I find solace, that is the word, solace, in right-living. I am not always worthy. You ask what you must know and I will tell, yes?"

The Elf was touched. He started slowly, "Tell me what powers the ring gives him, oh, and what is his title?"

"He is called many things but Assured is shortest. He uses the ring for cruelty and to make examples. I left only two years after it came to him so there may be other uses now. I think not. He is a simple man." Again she touched the napkin to her inviting lips, "He can give pain. He can make himself seem larger, except where, well, that is not important to you. His voice can be made low and loud and shake men's ears. I have heard from someone in a position to know that he also ages slowly, looks like he did when I left, like your, uhmm …" She pantomimed sketching. "That is not the way of Herduiq men. The person also said he has grown heavier. That is also not their way."

Nag Kath asked, "May I call you Chûran? I do not know how to address women in your land."

She said demurely, "That is fine." Brightening, "It is a pretty name. My sister was not so fortunate."

"Yes, pretty. How does the ring affect the people around him?"

"They fear it. No, they fear him. The ring is of the man. There is also something strange. Chûran knitted her delicate brows slightly, "Nulvanash was never wanting of possessions, power always, but not things. Since he wears the ring, he wants only gold."

Nag Kath's face slowly broke into his notorious grin. That became a belly-laugh. Chûran was shocked at first but then realized it was not something she had done wrong. She folded her hands in her lap and waited until her guest was composed. "This is good, yes?"

"I think so."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

He rode back to the retreat that afternoon. Several times along the way, he broke into gales of laughter that had even Charlo concerned. Gandalf told him the nine rings of power were all in Sauron's possession after the Nazgul were enslaved. Either they were destroyed with him or lay under ten thousand tons of rubble at Barad Dûr.

The three Elf rings were safe. Gandalf let him wear Narya in Orthanc once. The old wizard said it was slowly losing its power. He would return it to Lord Cirdan when he left.

But there were seven Dwarf rings. The legend goes that four were incinerated by fire-drakes in their wars on the mining kingdoms. Another probably fell into Sauron's hands through Thorin Oakenshield's father during his imprisonment. Two were unaccounted for, maybe more if the dragon yarn was spun drinking ale.

Love of gold and getting fat? The Assured had a Dwarf ring! Nag Kath never asked what those did. The rings of men gave them great powers. Their addiction brought them to the dark lord like lambs to the slaughter. Dwarves were said to be unaffected by Sauron's call because they are so contrary and hard to instruct. They did get greedier which led their bearers to ruin none the less. All of the rings were made for specific peoples. A man with a Dwarf ring would have limited sorcery and might still become a wraith like the Smeagol creature. Perhaps he would just live a long time as Sauron's remaining rings slowly cooled.

Nag Kath was in a good mood when he took Charlo to the stable. The next morning he asked to speak to Mr. Sûhl of the braided hair and beard privately and to Misters Tan and Brown together. Then he wanted a word with Nenwûla of the Viersh.

Sûhl, no Mister needed, was feeding birds near the larger pond. Nag Kath sat next to him. One of his flock was a duu crow, called crebains among the Elves. Those were the birds Saruman used. It might be several lives of men before he believed they were not listening. Nag Kath said, "You, among all who have seen the picture of Orlo, remembered something."

"I thought so, but it was not there."

"All people see something familiar at first but then it fades. I think it is because everyone sees him in their own way, as he wants to appear or as we imagine him."

The man looked at the Elf and then back to the birds waiting for stale loaves. He crushed a handful and tossed it. "That is possible. You are the first sorcerer I have known as such."

Nag Kath continued, "In your learning and travels, has there ever been a friend to your order, or people like you going back to olden times, someone who appeared at need or at just the right time?"

"Many times, I should think. Most were known then or stayed to become known. Right thinking has come and gone for hundreds of years at a time. Something brings it back. You are thinking more of a person who came and went?"

"Yes, like a rainstorm in fire. He may have led men against a foe when hope was lost."

"Let me think about that, young man. I will ask the others. May I see your picture again?" Nag Kath took it from a front pouch. "Hmmm, it is a wise face that seems to be hiding a jest. I will also consider those I have met only once but deserve remembrance."

~o~

Sûhl had another stale loaf to crumble so the Elf left him to it and visited the Misters.

"How were your conversations with the Lady, Nag Kath?"

"Productive, Choran, and humbling. I see in her and in all of you just how spoiled I am. Men should be humble. Did you have a chance to make inquiries?"

Khilestrû answered, "We did. Answers will take longer. There is word that Hurm Rydovosh to the Visitors' south has been making trouble for them. Nulvanash will have spies stirring foment among his men and among Aômul's men above the Nurnen. It may keep him busy."

Nag Kath said, "I will often have questions that no sane person would ask but I have my reasons. Has there ever been a legend of a gold hoard inside Mordor? If not, somewhere nearby?"

The men looked at each other and decided the Elf was not a treasure hunter. Zielthir answered, "Now that you mention it, Sauron was said to have a trove well away from his tower, absurd when you think about it because Barad Dûr was where he kept everything else. Most of that burned to ash in the reckoning. No gold was found."

Nenwûla had just finished pummeling a poor man to jelly when Nag Kath rounded the corner. Hanvas Tûr was ostensibly a place of healing. There were physical healers like Nenwûla and those who dealt in herbs and diet. Others were counselors for men and women who could not forget the horrors of this sorry land. Those were fading now that Khand was stabilizing but people still woke in the night. Since most folk would not travel for such remedies, the retreat was known but ignored. Not all who came sought right-living.

She put a towel over her shoulder and walked to him as he said, "Tell me of your training in herbs."

The pummeled man was her last patient so they wandered to where they had sat before. The woman told him of the local herbs and weeds and roots and what they did.

He was looking for something worse. "Have you any skill with spells and herbs combined?"

Repeating her catechism, "Those are not used for healing."

"I know."

Oh! This was distressing! The woman had shown inductive healing skills in her youth. Mother kept those buried. With her brawn and sensitivity, she might be accepted at the Sisters of Viersh. Those skills paid with copper, not with swords! Mother was gone and she had completed her training. Occasionally she would heal by induction now.

What this creature suggested was witchcraft! What possible right-living comes of that? But he was a witch, if the story of him soaking Shelturn was half true. Would she be drawn into fell sorcery and lose all? Oh dear! He was here at the invitation of the Ghurate so she would listen first.

The Elf saw her consternation. No good had ever come from what he contemplated. How was this different? "I see your trouble. I want to know if you have ever used a binding spell on common foods or spices?"

That was a relative simple answer; she hadn't and didn't know how. Nag Kath spoke a list of foods found in Dale. None came to mind but it may be because of the name rather than the plant. She would look. Nenwûla was still upset. Nag Kath had some right-living of his own to do, "I am sorry for disturbing you. And I know that such things are very hard for dreams of a family."

The big woman was even more distraught. "I do not have such troubles, Nag Kash. I was sent to the Sisters because I am large. Men of these lands like their women small and slender. What man would look at me with tender eyes?"

The Elf sincerely said, "I should think any man would be proud to be your husband, that you would comfort him and ease the pain of his honest labors with love."

No one had ever said such things to Nenwûla of the Viersh.

When her face stopped looking like she would cry he added, "Do not think so meanly of yourself. Not all men are shallow and vain. Probably some here today can see the truth of that. Do not be troubled by my questions, but if you discover any of the things I seek are the same by the names you call them, you can help."

Nenwûla fought through to smile and said she would try. On his way back to the room he wondered if the smiling Northman Richas Tolvern had a sore neck. He was getting as bad as Tal!

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

After another day of plotting, Nag Kath rode back to Lhûg. Chûran's maid had found him rooms by the month from a man who owned several apartments. Inns were public with obvious doors and people noticing at all hours. His place had two rooms, neither big, and the lock could be picked with a piece of wire. It did have a vacant apartment across the hall. Nag Kath slipped in and unlocked the window in case he needed another way in or out.

Chûran opened the door herself as the maid was marketing at this time of day. She had new colors draped around her and for the first time, he saw her feet in slippers with a clever cord separating her big toe from the others.

She opened a clean white cloth to reveal a gold ring. Chûran had the jeweler add more mass to the piece. That cut into his profit but it needed to be a specific size. The new casting had not been ready until this morning. Nag Kath could not know if the Visitor's ring had visible runes inside the band.

It was hard to tell if the mysterious woman was enjoying this. She seemed more alive than in the dour meeting. She smiled. Her face was no longer the mask of perfection it must have been but she was still beautiful. The Elf did wonder if she was helping in righteousness or if she wanted to see her former master suffer. The first was admirable. The second could only lead to bitterness. She did not say. He did not ask.

~o~

Ureano was back. He spent the afternoon unloading two donkeys at a tinsmith and counting his groats. Ureano worked for cash or barter. He returned home for dinner and then left in good light to a tavern and smoking hall in the better district. It was hard for a tall, pale blonde to lurk unobserved but he did see the man greet an assortment of acquaintances before sitting with another businessman. The Elf burned both men's faces into his mind to draw later.

The idea quickening in his mind would take a while to develop so he needed to find an excuse for being here.

Nag Kath needed to reevaluate. Until yesterday, he thought of the Visitors as a wandering sect with a central hive. If so, the beating they took on both sides of the Celduin would lose the ears of practical villains seeking an advantage. The council explained this Nulvanash fellow was a warlord with a standing army to protect some of the best grain-land in Mordor. He was already the leader of his district when he came by the ring and used it to consolidate the lands between the lower two rivers of the delta. Friends of friends put it at two thousand foot and two hundred fifty cavalry terrorizing about five thousand inhabitants.

It was not perfect, though. Aômul was Hurm (Ruler) of the Nûrn lands between the middle and upper rivers and most of the north coast of the huge lake. That meant he also controlled the east/west road. Scant trade was allowed after the Hurm sent back the heads of three Visitors in a crate of whisker-fish.

Then there was Nargil. They were between the next two drinkable rivers on the southern bank with the southern road into Khand. There was also a low pass to the lower desert for trade and an escape route if Hurm Ryduvosh was squeezed hard enough. Nulvanash had hostile neighbors north and south.

Nag Kath asked about hereditary and blood relations between the tyrants. Mr. Tan smiled before saying, "No, and that is the problem. Men of that land were slaves, some higher than others but all borne of cruelty and fear. One day, all the orc masters dropped dead leaving the food for those willing to take it. Having never known better, the most vicious rose to the top. Here in Khand, we were allies and paid our tribute to Sauron but were too far away with too few places for orcs to hide. The families who ran things still do, for the most part. In Mordor, rulers come and go in blood and fire, as they always have.

"And that, Nag Kath, is the difference. Those between here and the Rhûn would make our land enough for us because we have always wanted that, in spite of the foulest sorceries. In Mordor, they know no better. And now Nulvanash has gained an ancient power and seeks to wield it. You see our concern."

The Elf understood all too well. He asked, "Tell me, wise council, does the Assured have any friends?"

"The man of Harad said, "Certainly not, but Brulthed of the east sea seeks primacy over his neighbors just as Nulvanash succeeded in the west." He spoke to the young man to test his wording, which seemed fairly good to the Nag Kath's ears. "His district has Visitors openly in their midst. If Nulvanash takes all of the Nûrnen, he can only look our way." The man took a long pull of cool tea and continued, "In my lands, several of the Chelkar satrapies have his poison in their ears. The Hûk is old and his son is not clever, so men look to themselves. Visitors get there over the pass at Kupshe."

Now he had to ask the opposite question, "Who are our friends and what kind of army can be raised?"

Khilestu said grimly, "There is where we fail you, Nag Kath. No ruler here, there or below lives right. We have men among soldiers and merchants and farmers but cannot raise a force. Tribal rulers will fight against their like but no one cares about the Yvsuldor spies unless it threatens them. Even when men fear that ring, they are not scared enough to join together and risk their own skins."

The Elf held his chin in his hand until the silence was almost crushing. Then he slowly said, "I apologize to you all. I have thought only of myself. Somehow I thought myself right above all others. My coming was to deal with those trying to harness dark powers again and I did not consider you. Through arrogance I have your ear but I have not bent mine to hear what you see for yourselves. That has cost me dear before. Would each of you tell me the world you want?"

Nenwûla went first, "I want children not to cringe when they hear hooves."

Sûhl said, "I would not have women taken. Wives are friends.

The young man, whose name was Prentivand, said, "I would see a man keep what he earns. Yes, there must be tax, but if he grows or makes or takes fish from the sea, it is his."

Mr. Tan was next around the table. All could see he was thinking and the right-living people let him speak in his own time. The man licked his lips and said, "Want is a two-edged sword. I agree with young Prentivand that a man should keep what he earns. But that must not apply to taking what others have. That is not earned. It feeds into how Mordor seethes and grows and festers!" The man's blood was high.

Chûran was not here. She was a witness and not of the council. The Haradrim who came to the second meeting said, "I say as the others, lo I fear that right-living will not contain this plague."

It was finally Khilestu's turn, "I would see all of this but never will if we do not strangle the Yvsuldor in its crib. Nulvanash does not grow old. He will wear down his neighbors and then come for all the world. I am not here for what I want. I am here for what we need, and I would rather die fighting than begging for mercy. Nag Kath, what do you need?"

~o~

The next day they would meet again to discuss bringing men and means to bear. Nag Kath decided to keep what he thought he knew about the ring to himself for now. He would hold 'The Fast' in reserve too. No one here should rely on that.

After the meeting, he sought Shelturn. The man was at the stable replacing a bridle strap that had frayed. He looked up as the Elf sat next to him on a straw bale but then looked back at his work, saying nothing. Nag Kath said, "I am sorry about the pond."

The man concentrated on forcing the leather through the ring. A minute later it was far enough in that it would not slip. Then he said without looking up again, "I suppose I should thank you for not drowning me."

"That was not a risk. I needed to get their attention and you were the toughest man I could find, except maybe for a big Northman here for Gelansor."

That was a joke. Shelturn tried not to smile but eventually failed. "I have seen him. Good man in a scrap, I'll wager."

Nag Kath said, "I am going to need good men in a scrap. I also need a soldier who understands such things. Can we shake hands and work in fellowship?"

The bridle was ready to be stitched. Shelturn finally looked at the Elf and reached his hand. "Aye, I can do that." He shook his head and got the same small smile again. "Most here are Teüchir, learned ones. Three in ten are women. Some men have borne arms but that pays better than many things so men seldom leave soldiery by walking."

Nag Kath considered carefully before saying, "I was born a soldier. We never really walk away."

~o~

The next day in council was for organizing. He asked what skills those of right-living had here and in their sister retreat in the north. Shelturn would be his chief of staff. The maps they found were in a sorry state so a man was deputized to combine the little ones into one large one that could lay on a table. He told them he had about fifty Florin squirreled in his gear. That was a boggling sum in the shadow of Mordor. Khans probably had that much in pocket money but they did not share.

Nag Kath could not stay here. He was unique and people would notice him riding the magnificent horse from the city to nowhere and back. He decided he would hide in plain site. It was time to use the Bror's little ring.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

.