Chapter 33

Inheritance

~o~

Except for Mordor, all of his returns were the same. He saw the same people, added new stories and booked meals for two weeks out. This time he had his girl with him. Younger than Tal and Ardatha, she would become the constant third at Thursday tea. Talereth saw something of herself in this one too.

At first people were not sure what to expect. Of all his unfathomable adventures, this one was well chronicled. He was really famous now with monsters slain in single combat before hundreds. And he had been badly injured. Would he return as an invalid? In his letters he told everyone not to visit although Shurran ignored that and stayed a week in Pelargir. Who else would throw the Syndolan party?

With introductions to his 'mother hens' (not to be called that in their presence), Phylless had no trouble learning the city. Turnlie liked her as well and put out feelers for a lady's maid. It took a week but a Mrs. Fennel had recently been released after her mistress moved home to live with a stingy son. The woman was fifty, smiled only under duress, and would make sure the lady of the house was always correctly presented. She took the room upstairs.

~o~

One of Nag Kath's first tasks was writing the King that he was back. He expected that to follow the usual pattern of a note back with a specific appointment to visit. Not this time. Turnlie opened the door and her mouth dropped before she curtsied deeply and said, "Please come, Sire."

Nag Kath and Phyll were upstairs deciding where to put his archives. Mrs. Fennel joined Turnlie at the door, bowed and said, "I'll just get him. Tea?" In most households, the lady's maid outranks the cook. Turnlie had seniority but was a natural follower. It was a working relationship.

King Elessar Telcontar smiled and said, "Tea would be lovely, thank you."

Turnlie retreated to the kitchen and fortunately had some hot and ready. Mrs. Fennel went to the stairs and saw the couple ready to descend. The woman widened her eyes and she gestured to come down NOW. When they reached the floor, both of them bowed deeply. As he usually did, the King bowed as well. Then he walked over and shook hands with Nag Kath saying, "I did not know if you were up and about. You seem hale enough."

"Right as rain, Sire. May I introduce my fiancée Mrs. Maedegon?"

The King gave a small bow again and said, "A pleasure, ma'am. I hope you do not mind my stealing your fellow away for a bit."

"Not at all, Your Highness. I was just leaving." A quick look at the staff told them they were just leaving too. The women put on their wraps and passed a half-dozen stout fellows to get tea of their own since dinner was already purchased.

Aragorn looked around, "I have never been here before. My fault, you have invited me many times. I expect you have one more extraordinary tale to tell."

They spoke nearly two bells, long enough that the ladies thought they were safe and returned while Aragorn was still there. Phylless brought them new mugs but the King rose and said he was glad to have met her and that he would be in touch. As he was leaving, Nag Kath asked, "Sire, I will be needing a gentle mare. Who do I see about that?"

The King smiled, "I'll have Bessandal look in." Then he was gone.

Since Aragorn did not touch his second mug of tea, Phylless gulped half of it and set the mug on the low table. Yes, her man did know the King, who dropped by for tea! He wasn't silly at all! She got more lordly councils at a belated dinner with Reyald and Ardatha's family. Phyll had met Ardatha at Tal's tea but this was the whole brood. Uncle Nag's new lady met with approval. She already liked Shurran and who was this beautiful child?

In Nag Kath's convalescence, Reyald had been given a four year renewal as Ambassador of Dale. All postings were shortened from five to four years so they matched the Thainmoots. The whole family would go home next season for an overdue visit. Granna was still doing fine and looked forward to seeing them.

Shurran had finished his study in architecture. Now he had to decide if he was going to use it, and, if so; where? In the modern King's Peace, there were not a lot of pure soldiers in the world. One could not rise in the old style as a commander of standing armies. Realms maintained small, permanent troops built to travel fast and hit hard, but fixed-line infantry were largely militias now. As second heir, he wasn't sure how much cousin Bain wanted him in charge of an army. Shur was a man good and true, but he wasn't needed. Caladrion said he should come visit Dol Amroth and see the sights. Reyald came into some coppers lately, why not?

~o~

Eniecia watched Phylless, presumably a woman of appetites. She wanted to be a woman of appetites. Now that she had set her sights on the handsome aide from Belfalas, the world could get on with it. Her problem was that the young man traveled a lot and she wasn't sure if he felt the same way about her. He would have choices. She had even more, but what was that to her true heart? She had gathered from her tight-lipped brother that Uncle Nag was a lover so the well-preserved creature with him was presumably pleasant company. Shur's Khandian enchantress had not come up.

There was a little business to discuss and since Phyll was nearly family, Reyald said, "Broughtur and I finished the last purchase three weeks ago. All are businesses except the last which will need extensive repairs before we decide what to do with it. I like the man, Nag, Sylveth too."

Uncle Nag asked, "Should we get more?"

Reyald held his chin and answered, "Best wait a bit. Broughtur said things seem a bit high."

Phylless was fascinated but kept her face impassive. They owned property?! To add to the drama, Nag Kath said, "I need to get over and see Tumlen too. He was about to buy that wharf on the west side when I left. It will take some coin to make it presentable."

Reyald said, "He would have told me. Besides, you seem to know all that happens there."

The famous grin; "Flattery is wasted, old friend. There are hundreds of Elves in the middle of Ithilien and I had not a clue ... growing food and planting new forests. If one of their rivers hadn't gone bad, I still might not know." He looked to his intended, "Of course, it all went fine in the end."

Eniecia said out of nowhere, "You stabbed it in the forehead?!"

"Aye, landed on his nose and jabbed down. Big one, the size of Bilbo's trolls. I thought them all dead, hope there aren't more above Arnor."

They retired early. Ardatha was putting on a brave face but she was uncomfortable. Her da sensed it and sent up herbs the next day from his recent travels. A healing draw might help too.

~o~

There was a slightly awkward moment the next morning. "Phyll, would I be a complete swine if I mentioned you need spectacles?"

"Of course you would. But you are right. I've never seen up-close well."

"I think women with spectacles are irresistible."

"Um hummm."

Undeterred he said, "I can't go get them for you. The master has to test your eyes and measure your face. It takes two or three fittings."

"If you laugh I will strangle you in your sleep."

"I will try."

"Fail and I will strangle you somewhere else."

"I will try."

Three days later that conversation was forgotten. She saw detail. These were amazing! She got a full pair, a reading pair and clever boxes to keep them out of sight.

Their next lunch with friends was interesting. Timalen Brushta was the third artist. He knew Lentaraes better than Nag Kath. Before the King's northern refugee arrived, they were the only students for five months when Quastille was keeping the wolf from the door. And now here was Mrs. Maedegon. Marie was lovely and kept the conversation moving. Tim kept thinking how much she looked like Nag's first flame, Kataleese.

They talked about the mural. It was holding up well. Nag Kath had completely forgotten to show Phylless. They must go down. Some of the troublesome yellows needed touching but overall it was still attractive. They should do another one. Nag Kath suggested one of the Fellowship of the Ring now that he knew what Legolas looked like!

That afternoon Phyll got a gift that took her breath away. Trooper Huron of the King's outriders was waiting at the front door with the most exquisite horse. Her name was Maida of Lossarnach Farm, five years old with a foal now out for his first training away from mother. Maida was a chestnut with perfect tack, saddle, kit and manners. The trooper said she was for the future Mrs. Kath as a wedding present and for taking such good care of the King's knight. He saluted and handed Phylless the reins. Without even going in the house they took her down to the stable with fellow Lossarnach horse Charlo until another stall opened up. Walking back Phyll said, "Lord Kath, you have such lovely friends."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The timing was good. The saddled-up to see Tum and a trip to Osgiliath was a good test for her new mount. Lossarnach was now synonymous with fast and if Maida wasn't pure speed like Charlo, she could keep up. She was the right size for her new owner. Phylless never stopped smiling and gave the horse some honest turns on the way to the river city.

Tumlen was a bit rounder than in the spring. He did not have the height to hide weight and his plump little wife was a superb cook. No matter, he gave Nag Kath a fierce hug and shook hands with his new woman. He did not watch officially, but the problems of broken parts on the aqueduct were in hand. Sections of the trench cover had to be replaced so the water men simply got it over with. The wharf property was stalled with in-fighting among the city council. Tum did not have the influence on the west side that he did here, bunch of ninnies if you asked. It wasn't expensive, just slow. All the other properties were rented and fine outside of a planned new roof for the collier's.

Nag Kath and Phyll took a room at the Great River and walked the strand looking at the shops and restaurants. Osgiliath was much more like her home than the austere White City. It was slowly becoming the art and music center of the empire too since they would take risks. When they settled in for the evening Nag Kath told his future wife that someday he thought this would be more home than across the river. Dale always called to him too.

It was time to prepare for their nuptials. This time, Nag Kath left that entirely to the mother hens. He would write the invitations and show up. The Syndolan party was hired-out too. Same people, he would see them there. Alas, his fireworks powders were all gone. He kept forgetting to ask the King what happened to the ones from Orthanc. They were chronically short of Hobbits too. Nag Kath had faith it would go well. True to his word, arrangements were made for anyone who wanted to come from Pelargir to the wedding on December 14th would get free, luxurious passage on the River Goddess arriving a few days before the ceremony. The captain was a given a deposit so that wedding guest got preferred bunks and that they would get the same treatment on the way back, a sweet deal for the master of the boat who gobbled it up without demurrer.

~o~

On the 10th, the boat arrived with Phyll's parents, the Maedegons, the Dystrans, her niece and nephew on the Maedegon side, her best friend Dethel from the west bank and a cousin she hardly knew. Her parents stayed at Nag Kath's house and the rest were lodged in quality inns nearby. Two days before the ceremony, the menfolk had a very tame bachelor party at a local eatery. The groom was reluctant to show any magic tricks but people insisted on hearing about his storied past. He smiled and let others tell the threadbare tales.

Phylless had her own party now that there were some females from home to mix with her new friends in the White City. She was settling in quickly. She left Lentaraes on her own terms and made a life for herself twelve years before his went to his reward. She knew her priorities. Phyll liked intimacy and pursued it discreetly. She liked riding and getting away from the yeast factory when she wasn't needed. She was not driven to have babies, though they would be loved and welcome.

Now some of those people were here. She would visit them downriver too. It was as simple as staying in her living room and playing Dukks while the boat did the work. Of course, Ardatha and Tal were there and arranged entertainments for the visitors in what would be on the order of two weeks between docking at Rammas and getting back on board.

Phylless was no blushing bride. She did not need reassurance. Like Eniece in some ways, she made her decision as she spooned her changeling fish stew while he was flat on his back. Phyll was busy with preparations and left her groom to whatever he did. He told her, many times, that something was brewing in the north and that he would be drafted if the powers-that-be followed the trail. He spent time reading the books he bought, sketching and disappeared for a half day at a time to visit the archives. Shurran came around several times just to say hello and see if his back was fully healed. It seemed to be, but her Elf dutifully stretched and bent every morning before dawn after completing his wakeful rest. She also decided she liked his feather bed, now the third generation from a fowler in Dale. Her cycle started the day before and she worried that the wedding night would not be to his liking. He comforted her and used his talent to reduce her symptoms.

The big day was much like with Flor. They had a ceremony in the local tradition of Saying and testimony. A registered officer of the city performed the rites and the whole lot of them repaired to the Merchant's hall to punish assorted casks. And as before, the newlyweds slipped out at the height of the gaiety and left everyone else to clean-up.

~o~

Syndolan Eve was different. That was Nag's party. Lots of the same people, including the Pelargir contingent, sang songs, danced and watched the next generation grow into their mantles welcoming the New Year. And, as always, Nag Kath and Tal sat on the front bench to watch the King's fireworks. She said, "I like her, Nag."

"She came every day. Many women can fall for the dashing hero. Not all will spoon-feed a cripple. That was when I knew."

Tal was getting cold, "Let's go back in."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

One of the reasons Nag Kath wanted little to do with preparations was waiting for his summons. A meeting was set four days after Syndolan.

Nag Kath sat down at the large oval table. The Elf had not been in this room before. It was for military planning and had maps of the Reunited Kingdom on the walls. He sat next to Reyald joining Lord Aragorn, Lady Arwen, General Velladath, Minister of State Felandrulas, governor Onothal of Lebennin, Ambassador Donaol of Arnor and a new scribe. Walking in from a conversation in the hallway a few minutes later were Prince Legolas, Prince Faramir and Lord Gimli of the Glittering Caves.

They nodded. More fulsome greetings would have to wait. The King said, "Welcome, all. We are met today to discuss ancient poisons. Prince Faramir, would you outline the situation in your lands?"

The Prince began, "Thank you, My Lord. As you know, one of Sauron's old pits was exposed in a landslide and now taints a river running through Prince Legolas' community and then to the Great River." He smiled at Nag Kath and continued, "There has been considerable upset downstream."

The King looked at the faces and said, "Perhaps roilings of that tortured mountain range?"

Faramir answered, "It cannot be known, but enough rock tumbled down to divert a fair river."

Nag Kath piped-up, "Sirs, ma,am, I drew sketches of the mountains and the vile pool." He handed them to the General to pass around the table. Everyone looked much longer at the lake of monsters than the landscape. The long-view was done there. The rest were done from memory last week.

After the King viewed them it seemed he was about to say something and then shook his head slightly and waited. Governor Onothal was the last to receive them. He looked at Nag Kath and muttered, "Looks like our new friends."

Nag Kath responded, "Aye, sir. About that size."

Legolas took a turn, "Nag Kath tested the waters to the source. Did you test them downstream as well?"

"Yes, My Lord. The sorcery diluted but the Temple drew the poisoned water to it, making it stronger again. With the trolls gone, it dissipates as it should. It is still just as harmful in Lord Faramir's lands."

The King then asked, "Legolas, you have long maintained that these are residual sorceries of the Lord of the Nazgûl. Are you still of that mind?"

"Yes, My Lord. One of our learned foresters thought the pool might be of his craft to create the riding drakes when horses proved unreliable."

Aragorn held that thread, "And you think there is something in Angmar that keeps these places from dying even after the Witch-King is destroyed?"

The Elf Prince shook his head, "It is merely the first place I would look. Dol Guldor is worth an inspection too. My thinking is that the places in this world still afflicted by menace were all under his supervision. Gandalf said that he was a powerful Numenorean sorcerer before the ring, and was not completely enslaved until many years later. He may have had devices of his own, either in the service of the Dark Lord or kept in reserve against his own deliverance from their frequent defeats."

General Velladath looked sideways and asked, "Nag Kath, are you concerned that the troubled places could field men and arms against our Lord's peace?"

Nag Kath held his chin for a moment and replied, "Perhaps, but I recall the Army of the Dead. Three in this very room called them to fulfill their broken oath. They brought terrible power yet had no substance. I saw them pass through my cell as the Steward's guest." That raised one of his un-Elvish grins. "Are the dark soldiers in the dead marshes that much different if recalled to their former service?"

~o~

Even the King had not heard the Elf's worry put so plainly. As they mulled that, Nag Kath said, "There are pockets of them all about, waiting impatiently. If a lesser sorcerer could wield small power with the wrong ring, another might do the same with tools still hidden."

Aragorn brought the discussion back to the dreadful pool, "My Lords and Lady, in the meantime, what might be done for the hurt flowing from the mountains?"

No one had immediate ideas. If the picture the strange Elf drew was accurate, it would be a lifetime of moving mountains to steer the headwaters away from the catch-pool. Again, they spoke quite a while with Nag Kath observing. Faramir was quiet too. As a master of stone, Gimli took most questions on what was possible.

When the discussion reached no conclusions, King Elessar smiled and said, "You have been quiet again, Nag Kath. That always worries me."

The Elf started slowly, "As many of you know, I do not care for flesh. Before I had any say in what I was served, I had to pick the meat out of my stew and make do with the rest."

Most around the room looked at each other waiting to see where this led. Arwen did not. Her gaze never wavered. In his next breath he said, "I do not know if it is necessary to move the rocks or the pool. Strain the meat out of the stew and burn it." He grinned the obscene grin again, "Though it will be the worst job of the age."

~o~

It proved the old saying that sometimes the volunteer is the one looking at his boots when everyone else stepped back. Florins to groats it would not be Elves winching fell-beast haunches out of that swill. Nag Kath managed to keep his grin behaved as he considered the labor. He threw them a rope, "The men of Mordor might be interested in such work. They are not far away and work cheaper than orcs."

This time everyone stared. Aragorn grinned as badly as Nag Kath. Arwen looked alarmed. Everyone else saw wisdom in supervisory roles. Since he started it, he finished it, "I am on good terms with the rulers of the western Nûrnen and speak a bit of their tongue. Next summer I could travel over the back of that mountain and parlay. With terms, perhaps your Lordship can arrange Mûmikils to travel through that low pass from in the Düath for the heavy lifting. Better yet, just have the Harad do all the work. They did well on the water-path."

Nag Kath looked to Minister of State Felandrulas and asked, "Sir, are conditions such that I can get a letter to Bror Dulgov? I get along well with the old rascal and he might grease the skids into Khand for us."

Faramir said with a smile, "Have you been planning this all along, Lord Kath?"

"Nay, sir. I surprise myself. I hadn't thought of it until I remembered the stew of my Rohan trip. It seems I stumble into water despite my own lazy intentions!"

My Lord Dulgov, Rightful Bror of Rhûn,

I hope your reign continues to be blessed. I may shortly embark on an embassy to the Nûrnen concerning old sorceries left by the Dark Lord. It is an engineering matter on our eastern border. I wanted to let you know this in no way interferes with our cordial relations. A like message is being sent to his Excellency the Khagan.

With my best wishes for your long rule, NK

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Phylless was always interested in affairs of the lordly, and this meeting was as lordly as one could get. It was not fawning absorption, more a study in management. At the yeast mill, she saw that minor decisions of the high often meant years of labor for underlings. Phyll curled on the couch next to her Lord advisor and asked, "How was your council?"

"Good I think. I probably volunteered for another trip to Mordor. Fortunately, I have offers to share bitter Nûrnen beer among the lords of that land. He asked, "And you, my love. No dark lords in your morning?"

She smiled more broadly, "Fewer. Eniecia took me to tea. She is sweet on a young man from Belfalas who seems to be much engaged in his career."

"She is perfect for him."

Phyll arched her eyebrow. It would not rival Tal's but it signified none-the-less. "So I heard. That is the nature of girls. I was only a few years older when a distinguished man swept me off my feet. With Eniecia's looks and rank, she has her pick of suitors. Do you know who replaced you?"

He grinned, "I had an unwitting hand in their introduction. Cal is a fine man and will be important in affairs of Middle-earth. He may not be of a mind to marry as early as my granddaughter."

"I have a hard time thinking of you as a grand-da."

"My reason for being Uncle Nag. Uncles come in all ages. It is a fair day. Let us don our coats and go see the painting."

Being from Pelargir, Phylless did not mind walking. Steep climbs were new. They made their way to the base of the switchback road and looked at the work in fair light. She put her hand over her mouth first then asked, "What is this, Nag?"

Still looking at the mural he said, "A likeness of a garden on the sixth, not far from Ardatha's house. If I am ever less Knight-Errant, I will do more. The sixth level and up is not allowed to most folk because it houses government for this vast land, like the Eärnil in your home. If they cannot see it, this is almost as good." He said softly, "It makes me proud."

~o~

Caladrion was back!

Ardatha heard Eniecia humming catanales so much she was humming them herself. Shurran and Nag Kath thought the same thing separately; if Cal was in the market for a wife, he would not do better than Eniecia.

Uncle Nag had Belfalas Ambassador Vertandigir and his wife for dinner with Caladrion. He did not arrange any surprise meetings with bashful lasses or interested relatives. They liked Phylless. The folk of Pelargir and Dol Amroth have a lot in common, along with some rivalries that make life interesting. One uniting thread was the only recent end of widespread piracy along their shorelines. Umbar corsairs were still hard to dislodge along the Ethir Anduin. If enemies were willing to hide in those mud islands, you would lose more men than you slew to get them out.

Nag Kath coached Phyll to ask the Lieutenant's plans after his posting. He was as vague as most young men would be but there was no mention of a sweetheart waiting breathlessly on the pier. It was a pleasant dinner with talk of music, trolls and river defenses. The women might find time for tea.

~o~

Summer lazed along. By ritual, Nag Kath and Phyll met Tim and Marie at the Steadfast, once the Wayfarer, for the Feast of Tellarian. None of them drank very much but it was a beautiful day in the spirit of renewal. What made it special was that Marletta came with a man about ten years her junior. Timalen waved her over and began introductions before he realized circumstances had changed. Marletta introduced Mr. Lensenar of the glass trade and joined them.

She took a few moments for her to recognize the Elf in fitted clothes, and how much Mrs. Kath looked like Kataleese, wherever she was these days. It had to come up. Marletta asked, "Tim, did you ever hear any more of Lentaraes?"

Tim and Marie went bloodless. Phylless had no trouble at all, "I married him years ago but it did not stick. He died four years past."

Marletta touched her arm and said cheerfully, "I nearly tied the knot myself, child. Looks like you escaped cleanly!"

Phylless, cut from much the same cloth as the previous love, said as brightly, "Indeed, then Nag Kath came to visit and got me instead. It is a small world. In Lentaraes' drawings is a very flattering image of you, Marletta."

Marie had never met the footloose artist/miller but had heard about him for thirty-five years so the womenfolk had a gay old time while the menfolk got words in edgewise. Lensenar was a nice fellow and not so young or poor to be a woman's toy. It happened they knew a few of the same folk. Time flew so they stayed for dinner.

Strolling home Nag Kath offered, "That went well."

"I thought so too. Nag, you seem to know nice people. That says a lot about you. What does Marletta do?"

"A bit like you. I think she inherited a modest stake before we met and does what she likes."

Phyll thought a moment and asked, "Would you mind if I saw her again?"

He stopped in his tracks, "No, see who you like. I'll wager she knows things about Minas Tirith you won't get elsewhere."

"Thank you, Nag."

It was almost August when a packet arrived from a Dorwinion address. Inside was the Bror's signet stamp and one word, "Understood"

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The King asked after a sip of Dorwinion, "What do you think, my friend?"

"Me; I would march a hundred Haradrim with two of their small beasts up there and net the foul flesh. It may take two or three seasons. That might not find the sorcery but it will clean the water. The men of Mordor are not ready for that labor. But I would send an embassy to the Nûrnen with gifts and offers to help. They are young in their countries. The right encouragement might steer them towards freedom, and they are not very far from your door."

The King wondered, "Do we approach our foulest enemy so soon, Nag Kath?"

His liege did not understand, "The men of Mordor were pack mules, lower than orcs. They lived in misery and hunger. Forgive my presumption, Sire, but we know a great deal more of their lore than they do. They were slaves and now they are not. Khand already trades with them. I think a Lordly embassy of friendship from this side of the mountain serves both."

Nag Kath sipped his tea and added, "Please do not think me clever. That notion comes from the much wiser Amiedes Tallazh. Buy something of theirs for much more than it is worth and let them know we are not the monsters their parents feared. I can be there and back before the snows. We will still need those oliphaunts, and they will have to carry everything up with them next spring."

King Elessar held his chin and looked at his tea, "Leave the Haradrim with me."

~o~

Nag Kath felt he needed a serious talk with his new bride. "My dear, I am called into the fray again. This should be not be all that dangerous, but neither was my visit to Pelargir. I want to tell you how my affairs are arranged."

She whispered, "Please, do not even consider such things."

"I hadn't before, but after being so badly hurt, it is much in my thoughts. Let me finish and then I will hear your mind. My will is in the file chest with a copy at the bank. This morning I put fifty Florin in your name free and clear. If I die, most of the Minas Tirith and Osgiliath properties go to you, something like another three hundred Florin, plus the rest of the ..."

"Three hundred … three … oh dear … what?!"

He smiled wanly, "Enough to get by for a season or two. I left Flor an income for life. Tragic woman. If I die, she has no claim on what is yours and her income ends if she makes a fuss. I would not have that. If you ever meet her, be nice."

She put her head on his shoulder, "I hope never to collect. Take me upstairs and reassure me."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath rode to Emyn Arnen alone and was joined by a dozen of Faramir's best, including his Chief of Staff Raynar Unthold, son of the great hero of the Pelennor. They would add more Elves in Emyn Vierald to assess work as engineers and then continue south with plans to cross at the hidden pass above the Poros headwaters.

They only stayed a day with the Elves. Legolas was not there but Cristigir was in the company of six riders and it was good to have his experience. Knowing better than to assault the lake directly, they came from a valley one peak south and tracked across as they had done last year.

Everyone looked down. Being told what to expect helped but it was still nauseating. A fell-beast hatchling floated to the surface when they arrived and then descended to the invisible bottom. Two of Faramir's men were Engineers. Hurnadlan had been very junior on the aqueduct. Nag Kath did not remember him. They got on well. All of the builders spent time wondering how winches could be placed and what would be needed to keep that many men warm and fed. Two days later they were gladly back down the mountain.

~o~

They could have gone directly east but that was rough country. The last trip suggested a lower pass to the south was better suited for hard travel. A good guess was that the Liûrzrant River was about even with the Poros on the other side. That would take them directly to Ûniarra Nûrn, Hurm Rydovosh new capital. Had they known, they would have gone east first. A sawtooth ridge of razor-like rocks stretched several miles over what should have been the easy part. Further south was a better crossing but they still had to lead the horses on foot for a day.

From there it was just a matter of following the river for another ten days past the frightened stares of occasional herdsmen. Nearing the capital the stares became more suspicious. They anticipated this and rode in formation slowly enough not to seem attacking. Ûniarra Nûrn had no gates. It did have a guardhouse. Two sentries who looked like they would rather not be there stepped out and ogled the nineteen riders on tall, smooth horses. Nag Kath held up his hand in their salute and said what he hoped was the local equivalent of "Greetings, we come to speak to Hurm Rydovosh."

That was a gamble. His head could be on a pike. The two men talked a moment. One raised his hand telling them to hold while the other made tracks back into the city center. The Elves and men of the west waited in the saddle for the twenty minutes it took the guard to bring his superior.

It was Captain Orvous. With the sun in his face he did not recognize Nag Kath until the Elf said in a Westron blend, "Hail, Orvous. It is Nag Kath returned to pay homage to the Hurms of the West!"

The smile was slow in coming but he turned to the sentry who had brought him here with a message for the Hurm. Then he waved them to follow. Nothing had changed. It was the Visitors who built more than mud huts in Mordor. With them gone, it might be a few generations before anything grander was commissioned. Orvous pressed two troopers as grooms and the western company was taken towards the main paddock. Nag Kath dismounted and gave Charlo's reins to one of the groom. The Nargil cavalry captain grinned, "You come here! No more Visitors."

Nag Kath imagined those who died on the field got off easy. For the first time in a while he wondered about Chûran's son. Was that him? He would look for other pretty men but figured the Assured's spawn were at the top of the hatchet-list. Their luck held. Rydovosh himself stalked out of Nulvanash's old palace, as it was fancied here, and gave him a warm two-armed greeting. In their rough Plaintongue he barked, "Good. You come. Come. We eat!"

~o~

They passed the good citizens of the newly combined Hurm-holds of Nargil and Ûniarra Nûrn who were agog but not as scared as they had been not so long ago. Rydovosh was not a kindly ruler but he did not torture for amusement either. Nag Kath had told his company only the officers would be acknowledged, it was nothing personal. Dinner was a few hours away so the company was taken into the great hall while the Elf introduced Unthold and Cristigir as representatives of their peoples. They wore their best travel clothes for distinction. A couple of the Hurm's officers arrived to balance the mix, one because he spoke passable Westron. As planned, Nag Kath let the two western Lords do the talking. They brought gifts to recognize the lordship of Rydovosh and Aômul to the north. The Elf watched the Hurm's face closely to see if that raised concerns. They had no facial subtlety. If that alliance had gone sour, it would have shown. It didn't.

Both representatives brought forth items Nag Kath thought Tallazh would have said could 'move the market'. Western Nûrnen was self-sufficient in grain but so was everywhere else so it had no trade value for luxuries from Khand. Rhûn got most of their luxuries from Khand too. In his first offering, Unthold gave the Hurm a finely-wrought sword that was close to the style used here. It was engraved with Rydovosh's name and what Nag Kath remembered of his crest.

Again; no subtlety. He beamed like a child at such a wonder. There would be several more gifts over the course of their stay, with the full understanding that their only reward would be ghastly food. Not to be outdone, the Elves presented fine jewelry for the Hurm's wife and daughter. It was not purpose-designed but anything they made was inspiring. Although told it was for women, they wondered if the Hurm might accessorize. By this time, ale was brought in a demi-cask served in their usual assortment of heavy mugs. To Nag Kath's surprise, it was drinkable. Beer was the first national improvement of the western delta. The Elves were polite. The Ithiliens seemed pleased.

~o~

Dinner was almost edible. A sheep was slaughtered as soon as they guests arrived for stew. Without the meat it would have been tasty because there are a number of herbs here that were not found anywhere else. Nag Kath took the liberty of eating a quarter of a genuine Lembas cake before they arrived. He was concerned that the Elves would look like they had been captured by trolls. Either they enjoyed themselves or were under orders to appear that way in dumb-show with the Nargils spread around the Hurm's table.

In some ways, men of the Nûrnen are like Northmen who do not stay up very late. The dinner was over about what would have been the nine-bell in the west and the company was shown to a barrack cleared an hour before. Elves resist fleas. The men brought harsh soap to kill the bugs at the first stream on the way home. Some slept outside, a western custom, they explained.

Another thing unique about Mordor management was that there were no scheduled activities. Soldiers did what they were told but there was no drilling. Non-combatants did all of the daily functions. Some of them looked like former soldiers of Nulvanash. His regular army was spared but not embraced. The first thing their company did was check the horses. A middle-aged fellow shuffled up to Nag Kath while he was lolling near the main water trough and bowed saying in Variag, "Welcome to Ûniarra Nûrn, best of sirs."

Thinking it no more than a greeting he returned the gesture, "Thank you. May the High smile on you."

Saying anything was quite forward of a peasant but the man stayed continued, "The High are favored among right-living."

Nag Kath got a better look at his face and said, "Indeed, Orlo is generous in his blessings."

The man smiled and finished, "I am sure old friends would like your tidings if we have a moment to share them."

"I shall make a point of that."

The fellow bowed slightly and offered a small, woven reed charm. Nag Kath handed him a groat for to make this look like he had favored an unfortunate. When he had a chance, the Elf told his company that old friends were here and he would take time to meet them when he could.

That turned out to be easy. Hurm Rydovosh spent his mornings with his soldiers so the guests fended for themselves. With leisure, some of them spent time talking about the installations needed at the foul pool. Others curried the horses and took the chance to inspect the local mounts. They were not as bushy as the Rhûn horses but had not fallen far from the tree. As Nag Kath explained; they were cart horses, but closer to cavalry than marching.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Dinner that night was started with the next round of gift giving. This lot was more practical with a saddle that one of the donkeys carried. It was finely tooled leather with the same set of crests. On short notice, the Steward of Nûrn and two aides came to represent Hurm Aômul and received almost identical gifts from the strange, generous travelers. There was more drinkable ale, more mystery stew and they were abed not long after dark.

Late the next morning, one of the Hurm's aides came to collect the leading guests to meet with Rydovosh and Aômul's man and the interpreter. Nag Kath recognized them from from the Mordor campaign dinner. Rydovosh gave the floor to the Nûrn steward who had a little Westron himself. The man put his hands on his knees and growled, "We thank you for your gifts. What do you seek in exchange?"

This had been rehearsed. Unthold explained, "Only friendship, honored legate. We wish you to know that you have friends in the west and that old troubles are behind us." That was easy to believe. No one hated Sauron more than these men.

Rydovosh clearly respected the northern Hurm's envoy and they spoke for a moment. Then he continued with unexpected humility, "We cannot offer fine gifts in exchange. This man …" pointing at Nag Kath, "knows of our lands."

Nag Kath said, "You are young places, only just free of our shared enemies. That alone is basis for good terms."

The two Mordorans spoke again a little longer this time. Steward Worscha nodded gravely and said, "Then it is accepted in such spirit. Is there no token we can offer?"

They knew this was coming too. Face required that they make a reciprocal gesture. After considering dinner the other night, Cristigir of the Elves said, "There is, Your Lordships. We enjoyed succulent meals with spices and herbs not known to us. I am sure those would bring a fair price where people value such things. Perhaps supplies can be brought over the mountains as trade."

Nag Kath would ask if they had Red Colish and burney roots too. In the meantime, letting the Hurms give away weeds answered the forms conveniently. As much as they wanted could be gathered by the time the embassy left.

~o~

All was going well. Enough Westron percolated through the local tongue that most members of their troop could talk with soldiers and townsmen who had been told to present their best faces. One of those was a small boy who weaved his way through the tall strangers to reach Nag Kath, saying in Khandian, "Your pardon, best of sirs. Can I interest you in small woven charms?"

"Why yes."

The youngster was so excited he skipped two lines of his script saying, "I am sure mother has the type you wish at home if you will come this way."

Looking as bored as he could, the Elf waved to his lads that he would be back in a while. The lad took him a half block south, away from the river. Making sure no one was looking; he slipped in an alley and double-backed two buildings to a modest brick home. The door opened from the inside and shut after the Elf entered as the boy continued down the lane.

The fellow who approached him before was pouring cool tea from a thick jug. It was made at night to avoid daytime fires in the hot home. Drinking water from the delta was not wise. If you had to boil it, you may as well flavor it. Another man was already holding a mug in his lap.

The sitting man said in good Variag, "Hello Nag Kath."

Handed a mug, the Elf sat in the last chair and said, "And to you, sir. Have we met?"

"Once. I am Borandil, a helper in Hanvas Tur. Not important then or now."

"Forgive me for not remembering. I hope things go well in that blessed place."

"Rather well since you scoured the delta. We have flourished. Curtish and I come here as merchants, bringing things they don't need for money we don't get, a fair exchange."

Curtish finished with tonight's tea pot and added lightly, "It leaves us time for contemplation."

The men Nag Kath signaled would cover for him at council. Stomach complaints were common among both locals and guests so excuses did not need imagination. Meeting the two right-livers was pure chance. They had arrived a few days before to observe and would have left a week later. Seeing the Dunedain scholar, even with his new hairstyle, was too good to pass. They gave him a thorough report on the cause and Khand. The summit with the Bror and Khagan went smoothly. Almost nothing was settled but it was the first time rulers of those lands had met since Sauron.

The Khagan's second son was becoming a problem. His tastes were hard to disguise. Critical comments about his father eased slightly when the two Visitor spies were apprehended. The fanatical soldier resisted his interrogators, to their enjoyment. The diplomat negotiated a quicker end. Transcripts of their comments found the ears of friends. Alas, Nag Kath's clever map was lost.

He told them of the temple seal in Pelargir. Curtish knew more of Gelansor than the soldierly Borandil and listened intently to the inverted ward against Sauron's menace. There were probably more. He sketched the flagstones as well as he remembered them and asked about the symbolism of the counting rack. Neither man knew of his enchantment in the false garden. He did not mention it. They would meet again tomorrow after the men spoke with other Righters here at great risk.

When he got back to the square, he hadn't missed a thing.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Tonight was the third and last presentation of gifts. In the greater Nûrnen, good things came in threes. The Elves presented silver spurs with gold filigree for both western Hurms with their names elegantly engraved. Men of the west gave them both finely crafted horns with silver fittings, Kingly clarions for men who would be heard! Rydovosh insisted on blowing his but only managed a spitting 'blat' without practice. It didn't matter. The Hurm and Steward laughed uproariously.

It was time to mention the small matter to the west. Nag Kath said, "My Lords, the enemy left a mess just over the mountains. We may need to bring men along this side of the ridge to make it safe. Do you know who rules those hills?"

The two Lords, sitting side-by-side, looked at each other for a minute. Then Worsha replied, "No one. Small tribes. Our new friends can do as they like."

So much for their prepared negotiations! Shaking off the surprise, Unthold said, "We will keep you informed."

~o~

There was no need for a lad to fetch him the next morning but they had to wait for some old-fashioned healing. The local diet was running through Faramir's men as soon as it entered. With years on the aqueduct, they had the right healer who brought the right remedies. A few of the Elves gurgled too.

After some wrong turns and the 'fast' to reach the little home unobserved, he found both men having cold tea along with a woman covered head to foot as local females must. Curtish said, "Nag Kath, this is Mrs. Ilpoul."

The Elf bowed and greeted her in Variag. She replied in a deep, soothing voice, "And you, best of sirs." They found a fourth chair for today.

She was here to answer one question, "Mrs. Ilpoul, this is a drawing I made of the floor stones of an Yvsuldor Temple in a great city to the west." Flipping to another sheet, "And this is what it replaced. Have you ever seen either of those designs?"

"Fül we see many times. The first, no." He turned the thin first sheet so she could see it through the paper. "Yes, Orlo, but the old one. Mr. Curtish, this is more your area."

Curtish needed spectacles too. He squinted at the faint drawing in the poor light and said, "I see it now. Is it of moment?"

"It was a pattern placed over a troll nest by right-livers over a thousand years ago to keep the beasts from rising. When it was destroyed, they woke.

Borandil recalled, "I saw a building once below Lhûg that had the evil one over a door lintel. There was a large hole in the floor. The blocks had been used for other things. An egg no one wants to hatch?"

"A big one. And the counting rack?"

Mrs. Ilpoul said, "It signifies nothing, but it is similar to the little looms women much further east use to weave the patches they make their clothes with. I do not know more than that."

They spoke this time of people he knew. Idgshtok married a fat Khandian woman who now had a fat baby on her hip. They weren't sure what he was doing but it seemed to pay. Shelturn stayed mostly to the center learning more of himself. Nenwûla of the Viersh had an admirer and had almost forgiven herself for compounding Nag Kath's sorcerous laxative. Both men thought that hilarious. Mrs. Ilpoul did not smile, but then, she never smiled. The Ghur's were well.

Nag Kath asked, as if throwing it in with no weight, "And Chûran? How has she fared?"

Borandil thought for a moment and said, "Well, I think. After the battle she spent nearly a year in thought at Hanvas Tûr and then returned to her home refreshed. Perhaps the ending here brought succor."

Nag Kath thought; two endings.

~o~

The men were to give his best to the scholars and Nag Kath made his way back to the barrack. On the way, a young lad approached and said in Mordoran, "Someone would like to thank you, sir best."

The Elf nodded slowly and followed. This boy made no effort to conceal his movements and even waved to a friend fetching water at the trough. They left the city proper towards a large field with a few of the shaggy horses fattening for the winter. At a small barn with its own paddock there was a man with his back to them telling an identical lad to shut the gate. Then he turned. A disfiguring scar down the front of his face did not keep him from smiling. Could it be? Why not?

In halting Mordoran Plainstongue, which is halting indeed, he told the boys to go help their mother. Then he rasped, "I did as you said and bought horses."

"Indeed you did Ghougash. Indeed you did."

The former orc still had the bowlegged gait of his kind but in mannish clothes and a hat to cover his scalp, he passed for the hardened war veteran he was. The tall Elf and short man walked along the rails quietly. Then Ghougash said, "I marry widow, her two sons. Make horses, sell. Good."

"So I see. Are you well?"

"Pain. Not young. Old man pain. A small price."

Nag Kath wondered for himself if there would be any more children for the happy couple. It did not matter. He had done an unselfish thing to bring a fellow survivor of the dark lords into the light. He would be proud for the rest of his life. They sat on the top rail of the pig pen and watched the river. There wasn't much else to say. If what the right-livers believed was true, the world was better for this.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Phylless managed to entertain herself for the two months he was gone, a short trip in Kathian measure. She introduced Tal to Marletta. Of the same age and sense of humor, they got on famously. Ardatha was busy thinking of their trip north next year but would not miss Thursday tea.

Ardatha's big news was that the aide of Dol Amroth came to their home for dinner. After the meal, Shurran announced he had things to do, which he actually did, and the Conaths left their daughter and guest alone in the garden to discuss whatever young people discuss. Ardatha said the next morning she almost tied a string to the girl's ankle to keep her from floating away. Eniecia said nothing of the exchange but it must have gone well. Nag Kath wondered; could it be that Queen Nepthat would continue on among us?

~o~

It was militia time. Nag Kath asked for and was granted the honor of teaching the children not to shoot each other with padded arrows. One kid, smaller than the rest, always hit what he aimed at. He told the boy's parents and gave them the bow and arrows instead of putting them back in the supply bag. He shot some with the Second to keep his eye. It had been long enough that a new man was tempted to wager until older hands set him wise. Reyald was up-to-speed with the property business. He and Mülto hired a full-time manager and a secretary since they had either duties or retirement on their respective plates. The new man was a Tumlen of the west.

Elessar Telcontar of the Reunited Kingdom graciously accepted his bag of Mordor herbs and gave them to the cooks to see if they could manage something. The main reason for going was to assess the work needed at the beast pool. Inquiries were being made in Harad. Over the winter Nag Kath and Hurnadlan of Ithilien would draft the plan for the equipage and quarters needed. It was familiar ground.

The rest of the time, the newlyweds spent doing whatever they wanted. Bored without a project, Nag Kath decided he would put some spare time into another mural, this time by himself except for buying the paint from Feurgil across the river. It was a project that would live as long as he stayed in Middle-earth. In Emyn Arnen he slyly got Lord Faramir to show what Boromir looked like from an old drawing his father the Steward commissioned when the his eldest was about twenty. The two sons were obviously related but could have been cousins. The Elf burned the image into his brain. Frodo's picture he saw at Bag End along with a spate of relatives. He now had all of the faces he needed to memorialize the Fellowship of the Ring. Where should it go?

There was a sheer rock face on the third level just below his house that had never been rebuilt after an orc trebuchet flattened a three-story house. It created a wide space in the switchback that locals used as a park with benches and tables for eating in good weather. Kathen Properties bought the little park quietly.

Nag Kath did not tell anyone about this, not even Phylless. He just said he had an art project and would explain when it was ready. That was fine by her. He was only there three or four days a week and always home by dinner. The sketch seemed to take forever. The men were tall. The Hobbits were, well, Hobbits. Gimli was perhaps a foot taller and broad as a tavern. Arranging them on paper was almost as bad as herding children into their family portrait. Should they be stern or glad or heroic? Boromir's tale didn't end well. He would be honored anyway.

When he finally got a sketch he could stand, Nag Kath had one of Mülto's crews put up a fence around the area for privacy. Folk thought someone was finally going to build in the uneconomic little dent. In a way, they were right. The work was about twice real size, so, much smaller than the garden mural.

When the Elf came home stinking of pitch-paint, Phyll washed him gently and snuggled on the couch to compare their days. On one of them she had wandered by the brewer's sector on the first north of the prow, not far from the healers. They could not smell that on their side but when she was close, she was home. As it happened, her family knew the yeaster who worked here. He was a grim, un-talkative fellow but she enjoyed the single visit.

Overall she was adapting well, thanks to the instant supply of old friends. Phylless also learned a lot about her husband. Nag Kath never told his own stories as well as everyone else. He spoke even less of his little kindnesses. She was starting to press on his secret painting too.

~o~

It was ready at the end of November. Nag Kath had the building crew remove the fence by torchlight so the painting would be there at dawn. It was a sensation. The Hobbits were happy, the men were soldierly, the wizard was wise and the Dwarf was hairy, hard faces to capture; Dwarves. It was a family portrait with the small in front and tall behind. Around it he installed more stone tables and benches for folks to enjoy themselves with a fair view over the rail towards Osgiliath. Flagstones circled a curious eastern mosaic.

A few days later Tim came by Nag Kath's house and shouted up at the bedroom window, "You old rascal!"

The Elf opened the window and said, "Thought you would like it."

"I am jealous. Now I will have to do something."

It was said Aragorn came to look at the dark haired Ranger. He had not commissioned many works of himself. As Kings of the world, his ancestors chipped their faces on every rock in view. This Lord was more modest. His was not a grim, gray, intimidating face. It was the face of a man who had done his best and done it well.

Grand-da was famous for leaping through the air and stabbing a troll. Now he was famous for painting the most celebrated expedition of an age. That was enough for Eniecia to join Uncle Nag and Aunt Phylless for lunch on the fifth. Her girlishness stayed longer than hard-put lasses. Cultivated; she had time to blossom. She and Caladrion were forming a bond. There were few sudden marriages at their age and station in life. Some had been arranged before the baby-teeth fell out. Cal's term as aide would end next spring with Ambassador Vertandigir's term and he would be a full Lieutenant in Dol Amroth's professional defense. He made enough of an impression that he might also serve his King from here, but home seemed more likely.

Ardatha thought that terribly far away but understood. Dol Amroth was rougher than ferries on the river but with the pirates under heel, not a treacherous voyage. They must return to Dale next year. If the young man from Belfalas asked for her hand, marriage would have to come afterwards.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath joined Thursday tea with Eniecia. The young dancer surreptitiously watched Phylless' every move. She recognized in her a woman of passion. She wanted to be a woman of passion, with her man, with life, with whatever she did. Her parents hoped her romance would remain chaste. Uncle Nag would have been glad to loan them the spare room, but orcs are not courtly. Ardatha's movements were efficient. Phylless, Tal and her grandmother Eniece were languid. Something as simple as raising a scarf over their heads started ever so slowly and finished with a flourish. Eniecia practiced elegant movements almost as if dancing. Men noticed such women, even the women had no idea.

The new dining trend was Khandian food. You could always get that on the first but up here on the fifth it was somehow more fashionable. The meal went well went well until the bumbling Uncle Nag stepped in it as badly as on the trail to Edoras! Through the main course, the women had referenced romance as if describing someone else. He blurted to Eniecia, "So, are you going to marry the fellow?"

Shurran came close to asking twice at home but buttoned his lips at the last moment. Now this! Everyone else had the breeding to hint. Forty possible comments passed behind Eniece's eyes before she said primly, "No one else has asked that, grandfather."

The best defense is a good offense. In the Elf Lord voice he had never used with her before he proclaimed, "That is because they treat you like a child. You are the grown granddaughter of a King!"

Eniecia realized she had just been paid the highest compliment of her life. All other praise had been in service of preparation, urging progress towards what she might become. She would become it now! The greatest hero of her lifetime just told her to take what she wanted. Phylless wasn't sure if the girl would breathe again. When she did, Eniecia sat up in her chair and said with confidence, "Yes, I am."

~o~

That was that. The next time the young people met, she must have twisted his ear until he confirmed his feelings for her. A man can only drag his feet so long before the best deal of his life is gone. By December, a simple announcement was made that Countess Eniecia Conath, daughter of Reyald of Buhr Austar and Ardatha, Princess of Dale was engaged to Caladrion Ivandred, officer of Dol Amroth with details to follow. Tal had Nag Kath to tea the next week. She looked at him proudly and said, "What a team we make!"

"They never had a chance."

~o~

Not quite as importantly, men who were not allowed to use torches rummaged through the King's stores looking for the crate from Orthanc. They found it and Mr. Doroust was engaged to produce the finest Syndolan rockets. Several packets of each color were sent to Nag Kath in a box of Gandalf's abandoned projects.

Caladrion and Eniecia had several formal outings beforehand but Uncle Nag's Syndolan party was their first unstructured public event. The gathering was the usual rambunctious affair. No one got maudlin or made speeches. A new Dwarf couple had fine voices and were taught Catanales by southern residents. The King's fireworks were the best ever. Ecc and Tal both stayed in against a very cold night.

Best of all, Phylless was the Neurae. Their wedding was too close the last time for her to take on that role. Syndolan was not as widely celebrated on the river as it was further north but with a year in the White City, she sparkled now. When the guests left, she snuggled.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Year 38 of the Fourth Age started a period for Nag Kath much like his years in Dale. He traveled more, but seldom into the unknown and usually with the adventurous Phylless. Their first trip was back to Dale with the Conath's. Reyald needed to meet the King, see family and feel the earth of his homeland.

This was Phylless' first long road trip. She fancied herself a rider, being out as much as a day in the rolling hills above Pelargir. Several weeks of constant travel, swatting mosquitoes and wearing dirty clothes was an adjustment but she was fine by the time they reached Rohan. Dornlas and Annlie never seemed to change. He got old fast and stayed that way but was still fit and a reliable sword. They had two grandchildren and another in the oven.

King Éomer didn't ask about wargs this time but he was fascinated with tales of Mordor. Queen Lothíriel was enchanted by the bride-to-be, engaged to the handsome young hero of her home. She told Eniecia she would fit right in. Prince Elfwine and Princess Tillith were in residence and they welcomed her kind from the Buhrs just as warmly.

Two days later they were on their way to Mirkwood, not stopping to ask after wizards. The first stop at home was the Carstors. Nag Kath was not the featured guest this time either with Eniecia sporting a rather valuable engagement band. Family got along wonderfully. From time-to-time, Nag, Reyald and Shurran would walk outside and let the womenfolk chat by themselves. Carstors joined them when he wasn't officially needed.

Word was that King Bain and Xondra were expecting a child as well. Carstors grinned, "I am nearly off the hook again! Nag Kath, thank you for the idea of losing my son-in-law. That worked rather cleanly."

Next was granna Borenne in Lake Town. Her hip was fine, more evidence she and the Nepthat's of the line had more than a drop of Dunedain. Seeing her great grandaughter as a woman gave them both pause and made the old lady wish she could remember her own mother. Uncle Nag sketched them together twice.

He and Phylless took the family to the restored bell-tower where Ardatha's great grandfather slew the dragon. The Princess had walked by it thousands of times but had never gone up. She didn't want to this time either but her children raced up the steps like they were twelve. Eniecia had never been up here. Shurran showed her Smaug's angle of approach and she stood where Bain the First had as her brother imagined the shot in his mind's eye. They were of Dale. It was in the blood.

Torrold and Gerda had already arrived for the Thainmoot along with Reyald and Ardatha's oldest, Haldiera, her husband Gerruld and their two children. The youngest, Gerrulith, was finally old enough to ride a small horse and did better than the boy who had a wicked pair of saddle sores. Uncle Nag saw to that discreetly. They were in the family apartment so Reyald's family stayed with Nag Kath they way they always did. Ros arranged a cook and maid within the day as everyone started renewing acquaintances.

~o~

Brenen and Nedille were their usual selves. His breathing was not good but not worse either and he said he was walking regularly. A place in the country he bought with Bard helped. Their children were all the same with a lull in grandbabies. There were six, which is still a handful. Bren's mother Aleurn was now in her eighties and lived in the little home just below theirs. Her sight was poor but was still good enough to rule the roost when she minded her great grandchildren. She did not cook much.

Burry looked the same. His grandchild count was holding as well. He moved a little slower from a lifetime of soldiering but was his hearty self. Lola was always a love. Nag Kath told them he was only here for a few weeks but they would manage a pint or two once the schedule was settled by those in charge. The Elf admitted the monthly silver was from Kathen. He did not know if he would make it back here when he told the bank. Now it seemed he would do it often.

Nag Kath took a little while to visit long acquaintances in craft. Master Golord never seemed to change. As long as Dwarves lived, they stood still compared to the men around them. He was fine. They talked about the same things and wished each other well. His next trip was business. Swordsmith Monteg pulled the Elvish blade out of the scabbard and said, "Looks like the rock put up a good fight."

Nag Kath told him the tale. It was already known but another thing to see the sword that stuck the troll. Monteg said, "Give me a week. I will never get these deep gouges out, but it did not really hurt the edge." When Nag Kath got home he took Lord Altheras' weapon out of storage. It needed considerable silt-buffing for rust but cleaned to a fine gleam. It was the wrong weight for him. Someone should carry this rather than letting it tarnish in a closet.

The next day he dropped by the original Kathen Properties with Shur. Barthanid and Turenon were there and glad to see them. They were the managing partners now. Brenen still came by on his walks but to catch Bard you had to find him. He would be around now that the family was in town.

Shurran asked as directed, "Oh, Bart, did you get those things at Nag's?"

"The women's clothes? I took them by but Grace was at work. I left them on the doorstep." So much for Nag Kath's grand matchmaking! He should have told the young man to take the lass in his arms and make the point that way. He would if he got another chance. She might already be married.

~o~

King Bain was busy with the Thainmoot but did see his cousins to congratulate Eniecia on her nuptials. Xondra was in her confinement and healthy and wished her best. Between the moot, family and friends, Nag Kath's house was a hive of activity, not much of it to do with him. With time to burn, he saw the Brightens brothers, had the beer with Burry and finally met Bard back from his and Bren's shared lodge out the Erebor road. Ros was fine.

There was another walk to take. He waited until everyone else was busy. The same quiet, dark woman opened the peep-screen and admitted him. Nag Kath always appreciated the mix of local and eastern furnishings here where he met Prince Voranush now some years ago. The owner came out and bowed, knowing his guest knew better than to touch hands. He didn't say anything either. Nag Kath merely said in Khandian, "Should a traveler reach his Excellency, I wanted him to know that our visit was satisfactory."

Considering things Variag, he and Shur were sitting on the porch watching the little bugs that could light for a few seconds weaving their courtship patterns out of the grass. Shur said, "Do you suppose she is still here?"

Not taking his gaze from the bugs, Uncle Nag said, "Her or one like her … be hard to chase the whole family out of the house." When Shurran said nothing, Nag Kath added, "Pelighur, seventeen, Alley of the Arrow. You might say Ostren referred you. Don't wear your best."

Shur repeated, "Seventeen."

Just thinking of that made Nag Kath take Phylless by the elbow up to the comfortable Khandian carpet beside the bed. Shurran said he was going to visit new friends after dinner. His parents told him to be in early.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath had nothing to do with the Thainmoot. With the Conath's occupied he wandered through the town with Phylless seeing old things. An unexpected, though not especially old, thing was Graciel who was having a snack in front of the little store she minded two days a week. They recognized each other at the same time and he walked over to give her a kiss on the cheek saying "Hello Grace. Phyll, this is Graciel Iömendel …"

She said, "Still is."

"Grace, this is my wife Phylless."

With the vast majority of men in the world, this would be the very definition of awkward. For Nag Kath it did not signify at all. He had no secrets with women and Phyll could guess what she didn't know. Attempts at discretion early in his life had all failed miserably so he didn't bother anymore.

The two women bowed slightly in what Phyll had learned was the Dalish fashion and neither glowered. To know Nag Kath was to understand. He said, "We are up with Shur and the family for the moot. How are you?"

"Good. About the same and that's good. I heard about the troll. Did your slow swords help?"

He laughed, "Probably! We didn't practice that."

Phylless took charge, "Graciel, we were just about to get tea. Can you join us?" She could accept or gracefully decline.

Grace looked around the shop. Seeing no customers lurking she said, "That would be lovely." The tea shop was right across the street so she could keep an eye on business.

A pot of the local blend was ordered with finger biscuits. Phyll studied her husband's most recent love. Yes, she was lovely. He said she needed ten years more seasoning. That was what Phyll brought to the marriage. Pity about the young property manager. Nag Kath didn't see the delay as an impediment and launched his re-emersion into Dale, "I've got the whole brood at my place. It is too big until it isn't. How is Lilac?"

"Her da paid her husband off just like you did mine, for a good deal more." She still lives at the hill-house with little Reillen. We see each other now and again."

He remembered their only connection was their now ex-husbands. With Grace in mind he mused, "I would think she has admirers." Phyll nearly kicked him under the table for his lack of empathy.

Grace giggled, "I think there is a fellow working his courage up. After Geordan, she was in no rush."

Phyll now saw the design. Graciel continued, "That was sweet of you to send Bart. Sorry I missed him."

The Elf took a long pull of tea and said, "You haven't."

Both women said at the same time, "Oh, you are terrible!"

He gave Phyll a very tender kiss on the cheek and said, "What would Tal do?"

Grace saw the sweetness and asked, "Who is Tal?"

Phyll would manage things from here, "She was his first love, a dear woman and notorious matchmaker. She and the Elf here combined to get his granddaughter engaged."

Grace knew the answer but she asked anyway, "Are all your former loves friends?"

He said thoughtfully, "They seem to like each other."

Grace said just as gently, "If Bart needs anything at the store, I hope he says hello."

Just then a woman walked into the linen shop. Grace had left it unlocked so she said her goodbyes and bustled across the lane to help. Phylless bit the end off a finger cake and followed it with a long pull of her tea now that the temperature was just right. Dabbing her mouth with the cloth she asked, "Bart is the tall one?"

"Umhumm."

She asked seriously, "And he's not looking for a blushing virgin?"

"That leaves too much to chance."

"What is your plan to have them cross paths again?"

"Oh, I'll just tell him to come down here at the closing bell and take her out for dinner. He's on his own after that."

~o~

The next two weeks went by at leisure. Lords of the realm were to and fro with the moot and business deals that went with them. The Easterlings were behaving but the Bror never really had complete control of his least productive lands east of the Redwater. Dalish militias never forgot that. Phylless found Hobbits curious. They had such extraordinary manners! Lotold and Lorens now had the full heads of curly gray hair their old Uncle Stifo had when he first met them. They ate with the Hobbit wives in the one tall room of their home and talked about what had changed in Dale. The Dwarves came out of the mountain less to trade and some had left for good; politics or some-such.

Both brothers decided that ale was only for after five except for special occasions, a truce, of sorts, with their better halves. There was less word from distant relatives in the Shire. The Fellowship Hobbits were now mayor, master and Thain and still in their prime so all was well. Nag Kath told them about the trolls. They couldn't imagine anything finer than Phyll making yeast for the most heavenly of beverages!

On the way home she said, "I can see why you come back." They strolled hand in hand back to his house and watched a messenger swing off his horse and run in. He kept walking and took her to the King's Arrow Inn for a quiet night alone.

The Thainmoot adjourned. That was more and more about commerce. King Bain added an extra meeting this year just to talk about militia training. He wanted to be sure that their disparate methods would still work together in a pinch. The Eastern Thainholds practiced that way.

Nag Kath left Phylless with Ardatha and sauntered down to Kathen. Bart was there with his assistant who, with a wink from the Elf, was sent on an errand to the other side of town. Without preamble the Elf said, "Bart, you need to go to the linen shop on Vorandus Lane next Monday at the six-bell."

"Do I need new sheets?"

"Grace works there. You should take her out for a lamb dinner."

"Gracie Iömendel?"

"Yup"

Barthanid bit his lip slightly and said, "I thought you were …"

For most men, the idea that a former lover would not care if someone they knew visited their old patch was rare, especially in traditional Dale. Many men also believed the only women one actually kept were either untouched or respectably widowed. Nag Kath doubted Bart fell in that camp.

Uncle Nag said, "I was. She needs to stay here. I can't do that anymore." There was a little of the Elf Lord in the last statement. Bart hadn't heard that before. Nag Kath could have just used a confusion spell but the man deserved free-will.

"Monday?"

"Or Tuesday."

A chaste lass Bart had been considering didn't seem very bright and he didn't like her parents. If Nag Kath said he should buy a beautiful, if somewhat experienced, woman a lamb dinner, he would. He liked lamb. On the way home Nag Kath thought he hadn't seem much of Shurran either.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

There was one last piece of business. The Elf and Reyald walked up from Torrold's residence to the palace and were admitted on sight. King Bain, Rosscranith and another minister Nag Kath hadn't met were waiting in the King's office. They both bowed and took chairs. The Elf went through the witch-pool, Pelargir and what was known about Angmar. This was old news, most of it forwarded by Reyald through the post messenger.

Bain mostly listened. Rosscranith said, "The orcs on this side don't say much but they still take the fish. It could also be that the Dwarves hear more than they say. They are more closed than before. Fifty of them left for new horizons last fall."

The King asked, "What of the other side?"

Reyald said, "Nothing, for now, Sire. Angmar is causing no trouble."

Nag Kath added, "And we would not know what we seek. More might be learned in Ithilien. That could take years."

The Minister Solvain was known to Reyald. He remarked, "It is a very long way to go and stay, even from Fornost."

Reyald confirmed, "That is the thinking of our allies. Let us be watchful. Stonehelm is first in line. Do you get any sense they feel trouble?"

Rosscranith stared at the table for a moment and said, "That is the trouble, Reyald. As Nag Kath found, with power they become more isolated. That has been the history of their people long before us. Then they wonder why no one comes to their aid. My friends among the longbeards here are not included in the councils now. We have not even seen the Prince in a year, and he is their ambassador."

Solvain said, "We do not think they mean us any harm. They just want to be left alone, save for trade. The Iron Hills aren't so stand-offish, but they are not close to Angmar."

Rosscranith chuckled grimly, "In short, our ears are not hearing."

The King concluded the meeting by saying, "Thank you both for coming and for your efforts, and your best wishes for the Queen. She is fit and strong."

Nag Kath should have taken his dismissal but asked one more question, "Sire, how fares your mother?"

"She is well too and looking for grandchildren. I will tell her you asked."

~o~

On their way back to Torrold's Nag Kath got the feeling his use in the Halls of Dale were coming to a close. He was a sword of last resort. Things were going well. If the Elves were right and this was the age of men, they had men.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The Conath family was both pleased and sad. Everything had gone so well. They knew they would gradually lose touch. Regular post service helped. Granna wrote weekly, even though two or three letters arrived with the same carrier. No one looked forward to getting back more than Eniecia. She had been a dutiful daughter and wanted to see her man. Every hour took an age.

Shurran was subdued. Thinking of his little sister tying the knot made him consider his future. Nag Kath wondered if he was unsure which Shurran would go courting. Was he a drone-Prince, a builder, a soldier, some combination? No overtures were made in Dale for him to shoulder governance so his future there seemed no better than Uncle Nag's. Good! He needed to narrow the field.

After a few visits to the Khandian quarter, the young Northman thought he would like to be a married man. Nag Kath showed there was more to females, and he wasn't a man at all! The Elf liked passionate women who didn't think themselves too queenly to make tea at a campfire. Shur knew he could parlay his position well up in provincial nobility but did not see the advantage. Not having to marry for money helped. Da said not to worry there. When the young man decided he would marry the right woman and actively put himself in a position to do so, the weight fell from his shoulders. He didn't have to do this for country.

Phylless was just glad to get home. Roughing it was rough. It was nice that she and her husband had a private room at the inn near where the Elves lived but most of the time the tent was crowded. She knew she could do it.

~o~

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~o~