Chapter 34

Settling In

~o~

The ladies of the house were happy to see them. They got along well but without the master and mistress installed, there wasn't much to talk about. Tal had a summer cold. Nag Kath fixed that. Mülto's complaint was becoming chronic. Even with new skills, healers cannot replace what is lost.

Much of their agenda was decided when Cal and Eniecia said they would like to get married in the fall in Dol Amroth. Ambassador Vertandigir said he could live without his aide for a while and had a few things to discuss back home in any event. Reyald and Ardatha agreed. Nag Kath and Phylless would go to Pelargir for two weeks and then book passage to Belfalas along with later arrivals from the White City. Reyald and Ardatha would take their son and daughter on the same ferry to Pelargir but keep going to reach Dol Amroth in time to make arrangements.

This was not a royal wedding like the west had seen lately. Eniecia had the blood of Kings and Thains but so did a lot of people and Ardatha had never played that card. They were well respected by Prince Elphir already. One could go no higher in Belfalas.

Tal and Ecc would come. He had never been down the Anduin and she had only been up it. Between them and two of Eniecia's friends, with one or both of their parents or a chaperone, they had close to half the River Goddess booked for the mid-August run. There was quite a range of ages. Nag Kath imagined the old-folk would play cards and drink in the main salon and the youngsters would do anything to avoid them.

It would get more interesting on the open water. This was all timed to avoid the winter swells of the sea but even occasional squalls roll and pitch those ships like corks.

~o~

Nag Kath and Phyll did not do much in the two months before they left. He painted in watercolors with mixed success. She saw friends. Tim got a big commission for a large horse sculpture near the gate, just the horse, no one on it. They paid in advance.

The Goddess docked a day early. Advanced booking only meant you had space based on the when it got there. That depended on wind and river flow. Everyone's things were packed in advance and waiting at the Rammas Dock warehouse except for personal items. The people they knew were all in wagons early the next morning and boarded by the eleven-bell.

The ferry was built after the days of river pirates. It was defenseless. If brigands rose again, she would need an escort. That made it very comfortable for civilians. Some brought servants. Phyll did not need to travel with her lady's maid. They were told by men on deck that some travelers brought the whole household. No one on this trip had horses.

Nag Kath was always armed when traveling. He shot a few target arrows from the deck just to get the feel under his feet. Men like Caladrion seldom practiced any other way. He figured a warning shot from his distance might discourage the wrong vessel until an old hand said only the slaves were visible.

Phyll liked going downriver better because the boat didn't have to tack back and forth with the wind. It just wallowed in the channel and tried to avoid hitting things until docking for the night. Little towns along the north bank serviced that trade for folk who wanted to stretch their legs or to vary the fare. Other entertainments were also offered. The day before they made Pelargir, Nag Kath asked permission to climb the mast. No one had ever asked before but he was a paying passenger. He took off his boots and ran up the ratlines faster than anyone expected for a good look at the Telengaur pouring into the Anduin. It seemed the same so he shinnied down.

~o~

Official greetings could wait. Most of their party took lodgings at better inns at the wharf waiting for deep-water ships leaving in a tide or two. They would see them in two weeks.

Vergere almost asked if he could help before he recognized his mistress and the curious suitor. The ladies came running and curtsied before getting their hugs. Phyll thought coming down that it might be time to pension Vergere off now that she had extra coin. Then she thought with her gone most of the time, he was already retired and had never lived anywhere else.

She hit the pillow face-first and did not move until morning. Nag Kath took only his rest next to his wife. She got used to that fairly soon. Flor never did. With the dawn, he went downstairs. Cook knew she was not expected to serve him at that indecent hour and prepared meals as usual.

The two were together every evening and some of the days but attended separate matters too. Phyll saw her friends on the east bank. Her husband would have ruined any chance of juicy conversation. He strolled down to the Eärnil Quarter to check on the government. Kieff was seeing to things in the upper provinces but would be back shortly. The governor had him in for a quick tea and an assessment of water quality, which was fairly good. Wells on the outer islands were useable but enterprising folk still sold bilge water from the Sirith at the troughs.

~o~

The Quarter of the Faithful was slowly rebuilding. As they thought, beautiful ancient buildings dedicated to causes and long forgotten men did not generate a lot of donations. Men of Pelargir were proud of their Numenorean roots with lore, not with cash. A balance was struck to sell prime commercial lots to pay for rebuilding homes and stores. Nag Kath said he wanted a look at the temple since he had only seen it intact. Onathal chuckled and said that property might be on the market for a while.

Expecting levity in return, the governor was surprised when the Elf said soberly, "If anyone shows too much interest, I'd let Kieff know." When they met, Nag Kath would tell him to look for red on their collars and men who avoided whisker-fish. Some of those lads would have been in the hinterlands when the hive was destroyed.

Two days after they docked, Phyll took her husband to her parent's. It was a half-day walk hopping the islands like stepping-stones. They had a good idea when she would be here and rolled out a splendid welcome. An afternoon party was organized for tomorrow with her western friends including; old folk who did not come to the birthday, men and some women of the mill, assorted vendors and a relative everyone told him not to talk to. Of course, the fellow dogged his heels speaking of fell sorceries bubbling out of the ground and the return of Nazgûl. It would have been cruel to say he was responsible so the changeling listened and impressed all with his tolerance.

A much smaller group had dinner afterwards and the couple took a walk to digest. There was plenty of room at her parent's place. Her older sister had died before Phyll was born so her parents always knew they would sell the business someday. Someday seemed to be getting closer and there had been ready buyers for years. A good manager ran the place now so her folks were almost as retired as Vergere.

They stayed three days and would be back in six weeks so they took the long stroll east and she collapsed in her pillow again. Nag Kath wore his worst clothes, things he only brought in case he had to walk home naked, and went to the temple. After nearly a year it still stunk. The flagstones were cleaned and left where they were at his request. He hired a local lad from Jool's shop to help arrange them as they were. At first the apprentice was frozen in fear but agreed to lay them down so long as he got nowhere near that hole in the ground.

~o~

There was nothing new. He looked at both sides of every rock. Fûl and Orlo look nothing alike. The right-livers must have held their noses and cobbled together such stones as they could find to replace the entire circle. A tenner later, the lad was back at the shop and Nag Kath changed into better togs to visit the shop where he got his books. After the horror of the days after last purchase, the man did not recognize Nag Kath at all. The Elf walked in varying his opening only slightly, "Hello, good sir. I came to see if you carry books."

"Books?! Of course, we have big ones, old ones, books with pictures!" If there were any, they were still in the bowels of the warehouse. The Elf was sure the man tripped over the same box of surplus tents on his way back. A candle might burn the contents like a Syndolan rocket. When nothing jumped out, the man shouted, "Weldin, better come and lend a hand!" From a sound sleep, a fellow who looked a younger and drunker version of the proprietor wandered over and waited unsteadily for orders. "See if you can find this man some books, will you?"

Mr. Weldin was not selected for the task because he knew were books were stashed. He was there to move boxes. The man spit in his palms and rubbed them together and started pulling boxes off the top of the stacks. Nag Kath suggested he open some of them just in case. That seemed a capital idea. Finding a pry-bar meant a ten minute search. Nag Kath said he would be back and walked over to a restaurant for nuppers.

Weldin made progress. Two of the boxes he upheaved did have books or writings in them. The best looking of them were shipping records. Ones the worse for wear were in Syndarin or even Quenya. They were unbound folios with random sheets. In this light even his eyes could not make sense of them but they were interesting enough to start the grueling negotiations.

"As you know, good sir, scholars and the learned put a high premium on these foreign books!"

"Then it is fortunate that you have hidden them so well."

Somehow their former transaction kept the figure of twelve groats apiece in the peddler's mind. The man raised that to fifteen, what the expenses of rebuilding across the river and all. The deal was done at a silver-thirty and they even had a bag for his purchases.

~o~

The next morning was both hard and good. Phylless came into the picture room after breakfast and saw Nag Kath sitting on the footstool crying like a baby. Instincts were automatic and she rushed over to see if he was injured. He wasn't. Her Elf looked at her face and smiled before wiping his cheeks with his sleeve. In his hand was a spoon. It was the one she brought with her for soup and tea and whatever he could chew when he was paralyzed, brought here when he was carted from the house of healing. It was another aspect of love, the puzzle he would piece together for years to come. They sat in silence for a long time. Now he knew why women wept when they were happy.

It wasn't long before it was time to round Belfalas. First they had to get through the Ethir delta. The powerful river forced deep channels in the mud of the mouth but it shifted. By autumn captains knew where. In spring they did not. That took a few days and then they made southwest between the cape and the huge island of Tolfalas. At one time that may have been an important port but it was just a rock now. No green, no crops.

As last time, the crew passed the archipelago of more rocks off the Methrast point and then tacked northwest into deeper water rather than flirt with similar rocks up the coast that could rip the bottom out of any ship.

Winds were generally against this time of year but not bad and neither were the swells. That was cold comfort to Phylless who was sick as a dog. The river girl had never been on blue water. As it happened, her husband knew a few things. He took her to their bunk and held her closely; one hand against her temple, the other around her stomach. Even that took an hour. He would have to sleep tonight. Phyll drank a pitcher of cold tea and buried herself under the covers until the next day.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

It was still another ten days before they rounded the point of Dol Amroth. Phyll had gotten her footing. She managed to win a little money at the Dukks table, which Nag Kath couldn't do fit and sober. He just kept hoping they would not hit seas like his return after healing Lord Echirion.

There would be no night in the gaol this time. Rooms at fine inns were reserved for a number of their party. Most of them arrived the next day with a few as green as Phylless. Tal and Ecc seemed fine. He kept forgetting she had a little healer in her too, not enough to share but she was never sick. Nag Kath knew the palace and the dives so they relied on Caladrion and some friends pressed into guide service, mostly to keep the greenbottoms out of trouble.

The Elf and Phyll were invited by Lord Echirion and his wife for tea. The Lord had never actually seen Nag Kath. Mrs. Hürna tended him after his treatment. The Lord's sister Lothíriel vouched for his male healer who was quite respectable when not in the company of wargs. Phylless had never heard that story either so Nag Kath tried to make it interesting after so many tellings.

The Lord's elder daughter had never quite been herself after her father's madness. She married, but her husband soon realized why she was available to as lowly as he and moved in with a stout, motherly mistress. Erchirion wasn't sure why he was explaining this to strangers but it just flowed. His wife wasn't sure either and wrung her hands.

Nag Kath asked, "My Lord, did you have Mrs. Hürna examine the girl?"

He shook his head and said, "No, Yeniel would not have it."

The Elf became grave, "Neither would you."

~o~

The Lord and Lady were white. This was not the tea of thanks they imagined. Echirion's father Imrahil told his son of the Elf ripping his mind to neutralize the drug. He remembered none of it. Neither did Durnalath.

Only the birds outside made any noise. Nag Kath went into a persona his loving wife had not seen before, something darker. He said slowly, "In the like case in Dale, two victims were given sorcerous poison to bind the witch's spells. It came in food. If Yeniel ate whatever you were given, she could carry that to an early grave."

The Lord of Belfalas was the man he had always been. Resolutely he said, "Lord Kath, I would like you to speak with Lady Hürna at your best convenience."

The wedding was two days away so his convenience was now. Lord Echieron walked the wedding guests to the former staff officer's home himself. Tsita Hürna opened the door and cackled, "Well, look at what the cat dragged in!" Then she saw Echirion and added, "Not you, My Lord!"

Lady Hürna was doing well. Evidently she still pulled the occasional rich-man's rash for silvers but was quite the woman of leisure. She showed the three inside and had her cook/housekeeper bring tea. She cackled again and said, "What brings you to my door, Nag?"

He had to smile. Even as serious as the errand, she was funny, and still probably the most powerful witch in Middle-earth. He started with "Tsita, this is my wife Phylless."

"You know how to pick 'em. Pleased to meet you, Phylless."

The Lord cleared his throat, "Lady Hürna, Lord Kath is here for a wedding. At tea just now, I relived my experience and troubles with my family. My middle girl, poor Yeniel, never came up in our discussions but she is very much in my mind now."

That took the cackle out of the witch. She took a long pull of tea and studied all of the eyes looking at her. Nag Kath broke the tension, "She has been off her feed since before you and I came. The family thought it was sorrow for her father's madness. I think she may have gotten into whatever da was eating. What would Lostorin do without the confusion spell?"

The witch muttered, "Make you foul company with bad breath."

Echirion and Nag Kath both said, "Dougsh."

Hürna said, "We don't want to do this in your wedding clothes."

~o~

They used the same tactic as for her father's intervention. Lord Echirion told his daughter she was needed and she reluctantly came to their quarters in the palace. In a corridor not unlike the last, the Elf sprang from the shadows and assaulted the woman unawares. Without the spell, he was not that much the worse for the effort and carried her to the next room where Lady Hürna cleaned the residual. Neither healers were sick and drank a lot of tea. It was old Lostorin.

An hour later, Lady Yeniel was sleeping comfortably thanks to a gentle spell Nag Kath applied to let her recover. Phylless and the woman's parents were sitting by her bed. Leaning against a far wall, Tsita took another swig of tea and said, "They put the old team back together! What should we charge for this?"

He knew she was joking and smiled. "You got my note about the tongue. I later learned it might be gressroot."

"That's what I thought, but she might have just eaten blueberries. Run across the like again?"

"There is a fair healer in Pelargir. She keeps that quiet. I've learned a lot about the Elves but my summoning from the wizards is stronger. There has been trouble with spells left behind by Sauron's lot."

"Stabbed him in the forehead, did ya?"

"Hughmmm."

"What happened to the blonde?"

"She left me. I'll keep this one."

Lady Hürna looked at Phylless nursing the sleeping Yeniel and said, "Good for you Nag. Good for you."

He said, "Keep an eye on her. I'm at the Drake and Hen for at least a week. My granddaughter is getting married to the son of the victim in Dale. She is fine now."

The healer became serious, "Are you more powerful?"

"Umhumm."

"Let us see to our patient."

~o~

Nag Kath and Phylless bid the Lord and Lady farewell and walked back to the Drake and Hen in time to see a guest they didn't know swinging from a chandelier rope. She steered him right up the stairs.

That night she watched him sleep by candle light. It was like when he was paralyzed, how the powerful woman would align his backbones as he would turned silver until the pain knocked him cold, three weeks, every day. She recalled him crying with the spoon. If he could save the world, she must let him.

The wedding went fine. A guest of the bride's grandfather was a skinny, well-dressed local woman who spent an extra few minutes speaking with the groom's mother. Dol Amroth weddings are so long, chairs are provided for the guests. There is rich history in this place and they will have you remember that. In his secret heart, the changeling knew Caladrion would not come up for air for two days. Queen Nepthat lives on!

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag and Phyll strolled the city. Except for the nauseating voyage, she could spend time here. The water was so much cleaner and better smelling than the Anduin. Kath of the Water had no argument there. He had forgotten about the Sindarin library in the old sector. He said, "Darling, just follow my lead."

They walked in the entrance and approached the desk where an old fellow was as near to napping without falling out of his chair. Nag Kath cleared his throat gently and asked in Westron, "Your pardon, sir. I was hoping to follow-up on my research in the Elvish sorcery section."

Nag Kath's hair was now four-years long. He was an Elf. The fellow looked twice and said, "Don't get your kind here these days. Follow me. The couple did and spent twenty minutes, her standing, he reading, until they walked out after thanking the archivist. He thought it was more fun the last time.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Most of their party would be taking the same ship back to Pelargir. The older folk were tired. They could get some sleep on the sea if they had the stomach. Nag Kath made a discreet trip to the palace to visit his patient the day before. Like her father in his time of need, she had no recollection of him or what happened. Her mother introduced him and the woman rose to offer her hand. There would be no repairing her marriage. Her husband was a good man but he had another family now.

Eniecia, Cal and his parents waved them off. His granddaughter looked so happy. The power of Catanard!

~o~

The trip home was uneventful. The sea cooperated. Those who were sick coming were sick going, including Phyll. The Conaths were fine. Shurran had the makings of a sailor. He and Uncle Nag helped trim the sails just for something to do. Tal and Ecc were a little queasy at first and then recovered to let the women clean the greenbottoms' purses at the Dukks table. Nag Kath and Phylless stayed a week in Pelargir to see her parents again and were in Minas Tirith the week after that.

After a romantic evening in their own bed, she said not quite seriously, "When I told you I would come with you, I said you had to tell me everything. And then I find you healed some lord with spells and gutted a wolf with your bare hand!"

"I told you about the Revanthars."

"Tal told me about the Revanthars."

"Oh. I told you about Mordor."

Only slightly mollified, "Yes, yes you did. What about this Mrs. Hürna?"

"Professional courtesy."

If it wasn't dark he could see her eyebrow arching. "Yes?"

"She was very brave to help that woman. Some would cut her throat for that. Thousands more would kill me if they could, or you to get to me. People would kill Shurran to keep him from being king and some who would kill so he would ascend. I told you I was a poor Dukks player. But I keep my mouth shut. I don't tell things that could get those I love hurt."

Phylless was expecting a worse excuse. He kept going. "The pattern for those like me is to accumulate power. They have to hurt people to get it and keep it. They lock themselves away. They trust fewer, they love fewer. One day; they don't even love themselves.

"The wizard who created me was one such. He was sent here with two others to obstruct Sauron. Saruman betrayed them, betrayed us all. Little by little, his sense of right eroded until he could justify anything. That is the essence of evil. Every day I ask myself if something only I can do is right or merely justified. If I stop asking, one day I will be no better than Saruman."

That was the first time Nag Kath had taken his thoughts that far. He was trying to explain his reticence to Phylless and kept going. That was why Gandalf feared his talent, told him to heal. It bought time to temper the power drawn to him. Phylless was stunned. He released the girl in Dale, a woman who would be attractive longer than Phyll because he trusted Phyll. She was strong enough to be his wife. She would tell him when he was wrong. Who else would?

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Cleaning the beast pool had a slow start. The King's representative contracted two Mûmikil crews and another eighty Haradrim to build the site in the spring. The man was vague on the work needed. When the Southrons discovered the scope, they went home. A new man was negotiating now but it was too late to get much done before the snows. There was no great groundswell of concern about Angmar.

Nag Kath and Phylless settled into married life easily. She made friends her own age too and while her cooking and sewing never got any better, the spectacles allowed her to read. The Elf had accumulated quite a few books. Many were in languages she didn't know but fully half were in Westron. Ardatha loaned her some of Eniecia's books. They rode to Osgiliath often since was the perfect distance for a leisurely lunch and back before dark. For longer trips they went to Emyn Arnen and around the Rammas ruins.

Reyald kept busy as Ambassador and was pleased to announce that Queen Xondra had presented King Bain a healthy baby boy. In some ways it closed the book on Dale for Shurran. He bought a junior partnership at Helbst and Son, Architects. The Helbst there had been the son and there wasn't another so it was just the two of them specializing in restoring historic buildings that owners wanted to look original. Sometimes there was no helping it and the work had to be done in modern style or be prohibitively expensive.

Nag Kath tried to do one fresco or mural a year in a public place. He got better with the Elvish water color painting too. At militia time, he and Shur rode with Captain Bessander in close-quarter formation. Both also shot with the Second Archers. Another new fellow had a Northman bow bought here from a shop that got them from Dale.

~o~

Before they knew it, it was Syndolan again. That came on the heels of news that Eniecia and Cal had a new son. Mother and babe were doing well and they named him Field, after his great grandfather. Ardatha planned travel theret come spring. After the party, Nag Kath and Phylless visited her parents in Pelargir for a month. It was such an easy trip before the spring rains.

Those rains were heavy in FoA. 40, the first real test of the water supply across the river when the plains flooded. A nasty stomach complaint laid many low but few died. It would have been bad ten years before. In the summer of that year, Nag Kath was called to visit what was known as the beast pool. Two Mûmikil crews were engaged but they used primarily men of Ithilien for the hard work along some of the original Haradrim who would rather have worked the year before. And it was hard. A huge wooden derrick was sunk along the rocks that would drop cargo nets into the stew. When pieces of the fell-beasts floated with the current, men would spear them with pikes on ropes and drag them into the net. One oliphaunt would wind a winch until the flesh cleared the lip of the pool and then pivot to dump the remains on the bank. There would be no burying them in solid rock or under the shale so the lumps were dried and then burned with wood carried up the hill. The large fell-beasts were roped and pulled up until they broke into manageable sizes. The other oliphaunt brought food and materials from a staging area in the foothills.

It was a miserable employment but it paid very well, especially for the men of Harad who came with the Mûmikil crews or independently. They worked from mid-May until the end of September and earned a year's income. Men learned to deal with the smell. The manager wondered how many would come again. Nag Kath tested the water from there to the edge of Elvish lands. Sorcery was still present but it was going down. They would never get all the little parts but in a few years, the threat should be gone.

Unusually, Legolas was in Emyn Vierald when the Elf stopped through and so was Gimli. Their unique friendship had them visit each other's homes every so often. Nag Kath got the impression Gimli had never warmed to the dense, close forests in Fangorn, but anyone could appreciate Ithilien.

At militia time, Nag Kath and Shurran did as they had and the Elf resumed teaching the little tykes basic bow skills. It amounted to an hour of babysitting but he liked it. With winter coming, Nag Kath broke out the bundles of books and papers he rescued from Pelargir. Nothing seemed very sorcerous. He applied for a dispensation to use the royal archives. As a Lord he could have just helped himself but he wanted to respect the Scholars' rules. One man was engaged privately to help him with Quenya. There was no time like the present.

~o~

Other things got him more than he bargained for. An entire folio of large, loose leaves was architecture and building plans from the middle of the Third Age. Most were of Osgiliath but a few were of Tharbad. What they were doing in Pelargir was anyone's guess. Nag Kath asked if four of the scholars who specialized in Gondoran history could comment and he brought Shurran since this was now his bread and butter. Full sized maps of the commercial capitals from that era were scarce and individual renderings only less so. These were large and in good condition. They were also signed with a chop and the two wanted to know if other examples of the man's work were out there.

All went fairly well until the two younger scholars started remonstrating against the unfairness of the craft. The older men told them to pipe-down to no avail. Why couldn't men of our time enjoy the glories of then?! One of them gave Nag Kath a nasty stare. When the meeting broke into a shouting match, Shurran scooped up the folio and the guests made for the door, passing two other scholars rushing in to silence the argument.

On their way down the hall Shurran huffed, "Halvers!"

"Eh?"

"Halfers, or halvers, I'm not sure. There is a school of thought that the middle of the Third Age was the golden era of men. Since then it has been nothing but war, dark lords, pox and trouble. Some would restore those bygone days. One builder will only take contracts for work in the old high-style."

Nag Kath could still hear the yelling behind them, "Good luck with that. They need a lot more people. Until then, someone's got to sow the wheat and make the shoes."

"Spoiled kids. They don't seem too happy about you, Nag."

"I noticed. I was outcast after the war, even a few years into Dale. Wounds were still fresh then. Still, folk got on with their lives. It was commonly known that I was one of Saruman's orcs. Few believed it but a few picked fights."

Shur said grimly, "Hope you don't have to make some examples."

Uncle Nag replied, "I would be more worried about Phylless. We'll keep our eyes open."

He stopped in his tracks, "Shur, heard anything about the Visitors lately?"

"No. But I never did."

The Elf stared ahead as they walked, "One of these rich kids wanting Sauron or our old friend Melkor back might want to press me into service. I need to keep my wits sharp."

Nothing much came of it. The Quenya scholar was old enough to have known Mendies and wanted nothing to do with the upstart halfers. His books were nothing useful but it was good to learn that language, even if he would never hear it spoken.

~o~

In the year 41, Phylless' parents sold their stake in the yeast business to a long-time associate. With health and leisure time, they came to visit again. The first floor of the house was finally remodeled and they, or anyone else who wanted to visit could come and go as they liked. Nag Kath also took a page from the King's and Gandalf's book and had a study made of the unused room upstairs. It was mostly storage for pictures, books and nick-knacks.

Every so often, Nag Kath would attend Tal's Thursday tea. Phyll made most of them. He often saw Tal alone or with Ecc. They were getting on fine. Ectilla's little girl was five now and carried on the family tradition of wild, curly hair. Their son had not married but was long out of the house. Tal was 66 and still had her mischievous smile. Now that her Elf was safely wed, he did not need as much mothering. Flor came up in conversation every now and again. Strangely, he had not seen her but Tal did once or twice a year.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Year 42 was notable for babies. Queen Arwen was with child. Was this the vision of a son that kept her here? It seemed so terribly long in human counting but a mere forty-five years in Elvish time. This was not an official announcement. Everyone believed it. Nag Kath had not seen much of the royals after Pelargir amounting to brief reports on the state of the water from the beast-pool and the occasional gathering or music event. Dare he admit it; he was a creature of war and wars were few.

The beast-pool was not perfect but it was as close as men could get it by the late summer. Hopefully it would clean itself from now on. This would be the last season and Nag Kath's last trip here to test the water.

The other news was that Eniecia was expecting another child in February. Nearing the end of Reyald's term, he and Ardatha would visit in the spring when his replacement was installed. They asked Nag Kath and Phylless to go with them. Phyll got green about the gills just thinking of the voyage but she agreed. Shurran might go too but he was busy and a little bird mentioned that a young lady had caught his eye.

~o~

"Is it serious?"

"Aye, Nag, at least, I think so. We shall see about her."

Uncle Nag took a sip of his wine and said, "If you ever need bad advice, you know where to ask."

Shur had a sip as well and answered, "Fair enough. She is a daughter of Minister Vorhees. The middle of three. I like the man but I'm not sure he knows quite what to do with me."

"How so?"

"Well, I was royal but now, not so much. I'm in a trade. I practice with our soldiers but with a Buhr Austar patch. He doesn't know whose side I'm on."

"Whose side are you on?"

"Mine. There's nothing for me in Dale. Once da retires, I'll probably buy a reserve commission for Gondor, but I won't have come up through the ranks with the men I need to know."

Nag Kath chewed his lip a moment and said, "I had the same problem. My solution is to decide if you want the young woman and let the family think what they like. What does she think?"

"That's the trouble, Nag. She is a very traditional girl. It's like Dale. Parents at those levels decide for them. Ma and da don't care. That helps. Her folks had someone in mind but he disgraced himself in a pleasure-house across the river."

"It is like I told your sister; decide about her and do your best. Am I a problem?"

Shur shook his head, "I don't think so. This is probably just about White City gentry. Do you know Vorhees?"

"I met him at one of the Ephel Düath councils. He didn't say much. I think he has something to do with the purse."

Shur said resolutely, "You're right. I'll ask her what she wants and charge ahead." He winked at his grand-da and added, "She could do worse."

The conversation must have gone well because the young lady was invited to the Conath's for dinner a few weeks later. Julianne was a lovely lass of twenty, a friend of Eniecia's in the reading group back when. Quite shy, they knew to have a few topics at the ready if the conversation lagged. Shur took her home before dark and came home smiling.

~o~

Ambassador Feuran Peliduran arrived in late April. He and Reyald knew each other fairly well and had no trouble ensconcing the man, his plump, friendly wife and two children in the residence. Reyald purchased a home on the fifth months before and most of their things were already moved. The diplomatic community gave a small send off to one of their own in style with promises to see him again. Some might. It was the way of retirement.

Shurran stayed in Minas Tirith when his parents and step-grandparents took the ferry downriver. They stayed in Pelargir long enough to see Phyll's folks and friends and then took a sailing ship around the cape. Phyll's discomfort flared again but a practiced combination of herbs and healing made this voyage much more comfortable.

Eniecia had a little girl this time. She looked like her mother. The little boy favored his father a bit more but their parents looked a lot alike so who could tell? The couple had a home above the war harbor since Cal was active-duty. It was close to the Elvish library but almost an hour's walk from his parent's home.

Nag Kath hadn't seen Eniecia since she was married so sitting with her as a mother was new. The young woman was fulfilled. She had been welcomed from the day she arrived and thought she missed her friends in the White City, her family and marriage was the priority now. She nursed both her children herself, not always done here, because that was how it was done in Dale. Caladrion was due back from patrol in a few days so they took their leisure and walked a lot to help her regain her strength. A very capable woman saw to the children along with two household staff.

When he could get away, Nag Kath paid Mrs. Hürna a visit. She never seemed to get much older, having started old in the first place. Now completely retired, her time was her own. Healers don't make a lot of friends but Ladies of Galador do, so she had people to see. There had been no further trouble with Yeniel's poisoning. Starting over was harder. A divorce was quietly expedited so she was at liberty but she needed new friends too. Her sister helped. Mrs. Hürna thought the biggest problem was living in that imposing citadel. If the woman wanted a new life, she had to go where the people lived.

Cal was back a few days later and had leave for two weeks while family was visiting. His parents took them, the Conaths and the Kath's to a genuine Catanard! An open theater in Old Town had a summer series of them and this was the 'Sayer Of Tidings', a comedy. As always, it featured clever villains and hapless heroes who somehow find true love. After the show they found a café serving local wine and finger foods. Nag Kath could see spending a winter here one of these days.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

It would have been a perfectly ordinary trip except for a chance meeting. Ardatha and Reyald stayed with their children which put Nag Kath and Phyll in an inn near the wharf only a few minutes away from their house. Phyll liked to sleep in on holiday so her husband strolled the quay looking at the warships as the sun rose. Above the lintel of a sewing shop he saw a small symbol of Orlo. There was no mistaking it. It had faded since being inked so this was not about his being here.

They would not open for an hour so he got porridge and some of the unique fruits of this land, dividing his attention between the ships and the door. The open sign was twisted from the inside so chances were the owner lived upstairs. He paid for his meal and decided his wife, who disliked sewing, needed thread.

A woman of about fifty greeted him after a little bell over the door rang. He said, "Thank you. I have it on good authority I need to go home with reels of blue and yellow thread."

"Oh dear, young man. There are all colors and thicknesses. Have you any idea?"

He wanted to see as much of this place and the proprietress as he could so he feigned haplessness hoping the quest would open avenues. Nag Kath shrugged his shoulders. The woman said, "Well, what is your wife, wife right? What is she making?"

"It is a garment for a new baby, something thin for summer, I think."

The poor man had been sent out with only the barest information so he got a few different kinds of each color and the missus could bring them back if they did not serve. No one ever returned thread so the lady was fairly safe in her offer. He did not see another symbol so as the woman put his thread in a small sack he said, "I am sure these will be fine for right-living."

The proprietress slowed for an instant before counting out his change saying, "Anything else you need, please come back."

"What is the best time?"

She looked at him and said thoughtfully, "Closing time."

The family was eating in that night. Nag Kath made his excuses, which no one ever questioned, and went back to the little store. The closed sign was out but the door was unlocked. As the bell rang he looked at the woman and a man of the age to be her husband. The bell rang again as he closed it.

"I think the thread will serve, ma'am."

She looked at the fellow who was sitting behind the counter fixing his eyes on the tall customer. A smile came from nowhere to cover his entire face, "It was you!"

The Elf said, "It often is."

"In Pelargir! You stabbed the troll!"

"Oh, that."

"What brings you back?"

Nag Kath thought between recognition and the discreet symbol outside the questioning was done. He said, "There is a little glyph above your door, a remembrance of places I've been."

The man lost a little of his smile, "Last owner put that up. I keep meaning to paint it but, you know how it is."

Nag Kath smiled and said, "It never hurts to ask. Thank you for the thread."

As he turned he heard, "Stay a moment, friend. Will you share wine with us?"

"Gladly." The woman walked behind him to lock the door. Then she pulled the cork on a flask and poured a cup to match the drinks they already had. Nag Kath took one of the stools on the outside of the counter and raised his cup in a silent toast. They did as well.

The Harad took a long pull and said, "I am Narvous Untorish, formerly of points south." One would not know it from his look or speech. He could be from anywhere in the west. The woman was quiet.

"Nag Kath of, well, all over."

He muttered to himself, "Kath, Kath, Osgiliath?"

The man might have heard the name from Dorwinion. The Mordor adventure was not common knowledge. "Yes, Mr. Untorish, I did some building there."

Nag Kath took another sip of a fair vintage and continued conversationally, "A symbol like that was in Pelargir too. I don't suppose you saw it?"

Untorish shook his head, "Nay, sir, never been there. My people came from the southern seas."

None of this was especially secret so Nag Kath explained, "It was tiled into a floor upside down."

The woman glanced from face to face but said nothing. Untorish held his chin and asked, "Upside down? Hard to recognize that way."

"It faced down to keep the trolls at bay. An ambitious soldier broke the seal."

The blood ran from both the merchants' faces. She sat down next to her husband. He looked at his empty cup and said, "Mr. Kath, you are well ahead of me in this. Do you come from Nennûrad?

"Never been there. My learning is from the Ghurates of Rhûn and Khand, more recently, Mordor itself."

The man spat on his wife's clean floor and glared at the Elf before softening his face. Then a look of curiosity and awakening dawned and he said, "Are you the one called to attend? The one said to be waiting?"

"That would be news to me, Mr. Untorish. But I am enemy to the Visitors and recently destroyed their hive. There are more, I am sure."

Nag Kath thought he might spit again at the mention of the Visitors but held back. The Elf remembered Idgshok spitting when the Visitors rode past them. Vegad too.

Untorish nodded to his wife who fetched another flask and filled the cups to the brim. Since they were silent, Nag Kath asked, "Tell me of Nennûrad. Is it in Harad?"

"Further east. A place called Chey. I have never been there. It is said to be where the symbol was born. I only know that my parents left Far Harad when my sister and I were small and always kept that symbol somewhere on their home in faith. They said it reminded them of wholesome choices."

The Elf said, "It does indeed, Mr. Untorish. Are your parents still alive?"

"My father is now gone these eight years. He inked that symbol over the door."

Nag Kath advised, "You might do well to paint it over as you said. Keep another only you can see. There are those who would do you harm. They are abroad in the world, fewer of them than ten years ago, but not repentant."

The woman broker her silence, "Thank you for that, Mr. Kath. We will."

Nag Kath held his own chin for a question of moment, "Mr. Untorish, did your folks leave behind anything of their journey?"

The man was torn. They were relics of his family going back generations. But he knew he could not use them. This man could, and he had slain a troll. Finally he said, "Please, wait here."

It took him a while but he came back downstairs with a folio not unlike the one the scholars fought about. It was entirely in Southron. Nag Kath would need to learn yet another language. Not even the Elves were said to speak that one. Nag Kath said, "It may be some time before I can return these to you, Mr. Untorish."

"I would like them back, but take years if you need them. They are precious to me."

The phrase took Nag Kath aback but he recovered quickly and thanked him, "I will try. In the meantime, this is a symbol you should avoid. Should you see it, send me a note through Lord Echirion. My name will be enough to grant you an audience." He drew the symbol Fûl on a scrap of paper. Untorish turned the scrap around and said, "Oh, like the shields."

"I fear so, Mr. Untorish. I fear so."

~o~

There would be no trips to Far Harad or Chey, wherever that was, on this leg. They had stayed three months so the Conath's said their goodbyes with promises to kiss Haldiera, her little ones and granna when they visited Dale, possibly next year. Their water blossom was everything they had hoped.

The journey was rougher than coming. Phyll had finally gotten her sea-legs and only needed a little magic to keep dinner down. Nag Kath helped with the lowly jobs on deck both to be useful and learn more about sailing. He thought he might do more someday. The crew worked as a team, seeming to anticipate each other but still paying close attention to the master's calls. They never took the sea for granted, not for a moment.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The White City had not missed them. They got home in spite of stronger than usual Anduin flow and settled back in. Ardatha was tired. She was almost 63. Even tough women of the Bhurs slow down. It was Eniecia's turn to come home next time. Full retirement took no time at all for Reyald. With Mülto slowing, citizen Conath took on a more active role in choosing properties and what work was needed. He also used that as an excuse to visit Tumlen in Osgiliath with Ardatha who still loved to ride. A new Lossarnach mare was her birthday present.

Nag Kath laid the thread-merchant's folio out on his big table. There were no maps. The paper was not old. These seemed to be some sort of diary combined with transcriptions of lessons, perhaps something like the recitations of the Sayers in Rhûn.

He couldn't just find anyone from Harad to read it to him. They had to be learned and not harboring any grudges about the misunderstanding on the Pelennor Fields.

Chey? Where was Chey? His Quenya teacher was on drinking terms with the scholar who curated the maps. The man knew that it was at the corner of both Khand and Harad well past Lhûg, where Wain Riders were said to originate. None of the scholars were conversant in that tongue, an amalgam of tongues it was said and the changeling knew more about that part of the world than anyone not still there.

He would search unofficially. There were pockets of Haradrim on both the first level and in Rammas by the gate. They were either merchants or those who served the merchants. Travelers brought hammered brass and copper bits of varying quality along with brightly colored wools and cottons. Most used donkeys as the roads until about eighty miles from here were ill-suited for carts. The folk who stayed competed for market stalls since the travelers could not get preferred locations and seldom spoke enough Westron to dicker on price.

Nag Kath remembered one old man who was quite heavy and missing a foot, or most of a foot. He walked with a crutch. The Elf took a bench on the second looking down and watched for two days. Every morning the old boy took forever to get from his apartment to his stall and once there, did not leave during the day. Working for him was a lass who might be a granddaughter at about thirteen. She was better-fed than the travelers and might be comely in a few years' time. He never saw anyone who might be her parent's age. After the second day, he followed them home. They lived in a warehouse where the sleeping quarters were separated by blankets hung from the ceiling. With no security, they took everything of value with them to work and back.

Nag Kath looked for anything to suggest the man could read. Like all of them, he used a counting rack with blinding speed. Most days, traveling merchants sought someone with a stall to hawk their goods. Sometimes they sold them to the vendor, sometimes they were on consignment. The old man and lass took on inventory they knew and seemed familiar with the travelers. Honest? Not likely. Predictable was a better word. They made their best-efforts to sell their wares and usually settled-up with the merchants at the end of the market-day.

On day three, Nag Kath was about to give up when the woman three stalls towards the prow walked over with a traveler. They handed the fat man a scroll. He looked at it for quite a while and then said something that seemed to clear up a misunderstanding. Both vendor and traveler thanked him and walked back to her stall amicably. It was time to ask.

Yesterday's inventory was buckles and brasses for horse bridles and they had not sold out. Nag Kath dressed roughly and borrowed a broken harness that had hung in his stable since he moved here from Dale. Making his way down the stalls he saw the buckles and walked over with the sorry tangle of leather seeing if anything matched. Unsure, he asked the vendor in Plainstongue if the man had one the right size.

He didn't, but it would be good money after bad with the hide in such poor condition. And where would a blonde handyman have learned Plainstongue?

The blonde thanked him and pulled a sheet of paper from his coat. Nag Kath had drawn a series of phrases that were repeated several times in the Dol Amroth papers on one side and instructions from a superior in Westron on the other. Holding it to read the Westron showed the Harad speech to the old man.

In the confused face Nag Kath had perfected when it was accurate, he asked, "Do you know who sells such western horse halters?" Eastern riders seldom used mouth-bits and often just grasped their mount's manes. The old boy pointed to the end of the row and said in fair Westron, "Two from end. His name is Vhull. What have you got there?"

"I was told to get a bride."

The man laughed, "Bridle. Men here use them to steer their horses. I meant on the back?"

Nag Kath looked at it as if for the first time and handed it to the vendor. To show just how far the world had grown, and dougsh to the halfers, the man reached in his vest for a pair of spectacles. They were not clean or very well ground but they did work. He took a closer look at the page and said, "Know those persons by care and honor of family. They keep the flame."

In his best yokel impression Nag Kath said, "Whatever does that mean?"

The fat man grinned a little and said, "It is an old saying from the east."

Nag Kath took it back and said, "I am sorry. I thought it said leathers for the horse."

The man grinned a little more and offered, "That is on this side."

Ever gracious, Nag Kath thanked him and said, "I am sorry for my ignorance."

"You aren't very good at ignorance. Your hair is too clean."

"I used to be excellent."

The merchant said dryly, "Do you want to tell me what you are doing?"

"I need someone who can read this tongue, someone discreet."

The fellow held his chin. Oh dear! "Discretion is expensive, young man."

"And well worth it, learned sir. Are you available for such service? It may take several days."

"Give me a day to arrange someone to handle my obligations here."

The unconvincing servant said, "I will have a man-cart at your quarters the day after tomorrow. Bring the girl if she is not safe alone."

~o~

The Elf arranged a man-carter who was strong enough to help the vendor with the steps to his house. They arrived shortly after the nine-bell. The lass carried a small satchel that was older than Nag Kath's prop halter and the man-carter steadied his fare on the side without the crutch. It took a while but they made it.

Turnlie approached them and said, "Good morning, sir. Young lady, would you like tea with your strawberries?"

Her eyes grew wide as she looked to her elder for permission to accept. He nodded and she said in Westron, "Yes, thank you ma'am."

The Elf said to him, "Sir, let me put you here at the table." On a flat, smooth surface he had no trouble getting there or sitting. Tea was served along with another bowl of strawberries. The girl sat with them.

Nag Kath started, "My name is Nag Kath. Do you know it?"

"Oh yes. I asked a few questions about tall, blondes conversant in several languages. I am Sulvarn. This is Venaris, who has the misfortune to be my granddaughter. It seems you have been busy, Mr. Kath."

"That is my reputation. If you know that, you know whose side I am on." That was both a question and a threat. Word leaking back to the Visitors would not recommend.

"Yes. Venaris and I are not so blessed. We are on the side that feeds us. For the past nine years, that has been the White City." He looked at his granddaughter and instructed, "Child, go see if the cooking woman needs help."

She rose, bowed and said, "Yes, granda."

The Elf took her absence to say, "I have a number of documents in a tongue of Harad. I do not speak it. A reliable rendition will assure your retirement." Then he cocked his head ever so slightly.

Sulvarn ate a strawberry and said, "Retirement is as expensive as discretion."

Nag Kath slid a nipper his way, "Another when you are done."

That was a lot of money. A good day cleared six groats. But Sulvarn knew he had a fish on the line. "Almost enough for a proper dowry, Mr. Kath."

"More depends on the quality of the work."

"Of course."

Venaris came back to say, "The serving woman needed no help but she gave me these, granda." On a plate were some of the fried finger cakes made with sweet cane.

Sulvarn tossed his robes back for comfort and asked, "Shall we begin?"

Nag Kath handed him the folio. The man reverently pulled back the cover and then scanned each sheet, making no notes or asking questions. When he got to the back he sighed and asked, "Do you know what you have here?"

"No, but I suspect it relates to my recent activities."

Sulvarn said, "I believe so. Was this to be translated in your tongue or just spoken to you?"

"Let us start with telling." Nag Kath switched to Khandian, "But also consider there may be hidden clues in the writing that do not show at a glance."

The vendor registered no expression at hearing Variag. It might make explaining this easier. As he started, Phylless came in from shopping and saw the Southron and his girl eating strawberries. This was planned. She was introduced and then said, "Venaris, what a lovely name. I was just about to go buy some new clothes. Would you like to come with me?"

Again the look to granda. Again the nod. She would have some pretty new things when she returned.

The writings were indeed a diary, of sorts. It chronicled the trip of travelers a thousand years ago from the land of Chey escaping a forced call of soldiers. The trip took four hundred years through fifteen generations of folk after they settled above Umbar. Entries sometimes skipped a generation or two. There was Saying and poems like in Rhûn, detailed descriptions of locations, people born and lost. It often remembered right living and, a few times, the unnamed prophet who had started the cause long before this account started.

The documents were a modern copy in only several hands, perhaps three hundred years old by the parchment. So this was not the journey of Untorish's parents. They were simply keepers of story.

There was nothing in the cursory reading to suggest the prophet was Orlo of the garden, but a man would appear briefly for council, far from where he had been and always appearing different over the generations. He did not carry weapons or lead in war but had healed terrible sickness. He seemed to be there for decisions. And without false modesty, Nag Kath had done the same after an ill-omened start.

There was quite a bit more in the details, more than Nag Kath wanted to commit to memory. Sulvarn was engaged to translate the document in both Westron and Variag. Every day for a week the man-cart went to his lodgings and brought him here. Venaris stayed at the table most of the time but also went with the servants to get food or walking with Mrs. Phylless, even making a splash at Tal's Thursday tea in her pretty clothes. She smiled and ate everything passed her way.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

On the eighth day, Sulvarn and Venaris came as usual. Nag Kath asked in Variag, which the girl did not speak, "Have you considered the cost of retirement?"

Reluctant to name a figure, he said, "How does one put a price on true satisfaction?"

Nag Kath handed him four gold nippers and twenty silvers so he would not have to make change of the gold in the wrong place. Sulvarn opened his palm, looked and closed it. Then he looked at the Elf with a face that held no artifice. This was past bargaining or an opening offer or deflecting gratitude. He smiled, nodded and called, "Venaris, come with granda."

The girl pouted, "Oh please, the lady said we would get sweets."

"Perhaps your old granda can manage something."

~o~

Sulvarn kept his stall. But the quality of his wares got much better.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~