Nag Kath

by Gelansor

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

37. Chapter 37 Clues

Chapter 37

Clues

~o~

Nag Kath and Phylless went dancing. All his friends were fine. Things here were the same as always. He was more the same than anyone else.

He really wanted to investigate the coin with as few scholars as possible. They could be so indiscreet. By far the most were tutors. They taught students reading and counting skills or history and classics. Others did too, but being a tenured red-cap raised your asking price by half again as much.

Some were researchers. They tried to parse together the scant writings of the peoples and eras for an area of interest. The men arguing over the superiority of the fifteenth century fell into that category. Nag Kath was sure they were absolutely right if it made them feel better. Many of those men, always men, did not pay their own bills.

The tiny last group of scholars sought specific knowledge to improve their situation. Nag Kath fell firmly in that camp. Men might want to turn groats to Florins or prove an ancestor who led his soldiers into a swamp was not a fool. The Elf wanted to remove remaining fell influences. There were those seeking to restore them. They would look for the same information. That required discretion and scholars were indiscreet.

He would start with the coin. It bordered on scholarship but a few men of means in the White City collected coins from around the world. Some coins were more valuable for their rarity than what they could buy. A friend of Ectillion's had a prized collection. And he could keep his own counsel.

A plump woman with a cook's smock answered the door and was told, "Good morning. I am here to visit Mr. Eoudenbrad. My name is Nag Kath."

"Oh dear! You killed all those trolls!"

Not an anonymous start. "People have made more of it than there was. Mr. Eoudenbrad is expecting me."

"Very good, sir. Please follow me."

The main led him to a library not unlike Carstor's with two good windows higher than street level and oil lamps on the walls nowhere near curtains or other things that could burn. Tellis Eoudenbrad was sitting at his desk looking at something through a large fireglass. Seeing the Elf he rose and walked over to shake hands.

"Hello, Lord Kath. We met once at Ecc and Tal's. It is a pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure is mine, sir. Thank you for receiving me."

"Tea will be here in a minute. Please, let us sit over there for the ten-bell light." Situated, the collector said, "Ecc mentioned you had a question about a coin. I must confess; I know little of current values if you are looking to buy or sell something. I have only ever bought them, and not many recently."

"Ease your mind, sir. I seek history. I am hoping you can help me date and place an old coin that surfaced in my inquiries." Nag Kath took the coin from his pocked and handed it to Eoudenbrad as his maid brought the troll-slayer his tea. The man went back to his desk for his fire-glass and returned. As he examined the copper Nag Kath said, "I got it in Rhûn and know many of the Balchoth symbols but this is not one."

Eoudenbrad put his glass on the chair table and said, "Not even close, Mr. Kath. This symbol is Adûnaic, the Black Numenoreans." When the Elf was dumbstruck, the collector grinned and added, "The other end of the world."

"Forgive me, sir. I flatter myself that I am a traveler but do not know of these people."

"Do not be too hard on yourself. When Numenor was drowned, surviving worshipers of the Valar and worshipers of Sauron fought each other from the north to the south. This could have been struck in Numenor but I think in one of their capitals as they migrated this way. They were pushed into Umbar as the Faithful formed Gondor." The fellow chuckled, "Some say even below the Harad desert."

Nag Kath's head was spinning. Trying not to look too foolish, always a desperate notion, he asked, "They are men of the deep desert?"

"You could not prove it by me, but it makes sense that the sand must end somewhere, there are ancient rumors that the lands become fertile again."

Nag Kath contributed, "That would have saved the Numenoreans from legend. Would the scholars know more of those lands, sir?"

Eoudenbrad seemed to have some of the same misgivings as Nag Kath about scholars. "Hummph. You want to know about faraway places, ask a sailor, or someone with well-worn boots." The collector looked at the back of the coin. "What did you make of these?"

"Sorry?"

"The markings on the back."

Nag Kath hadn't seen them and did not mind admitting it.

"Yes, around the rim, and a few scattered inside. They look like dents but are punch marks. They were not struck with the coin. Here, have a look."

This was a very fine fire-glass. Nag Kath relied on his Elf-eyes but they helped more for distance than close-up. After deciding he would buy a better glass for himself, he handed it back and said, "I cannot tell a meaning from them."

"Me either, but I would wager a King Tar-Súrion nipper it means something."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

"Lord Kath, the King will see you now."

"Ah, Nag Kath, welcome back. How fares your charge?"

"I took him back to Khand, Sire. The right-living folk have taken him in."

Not many people would rehabilitate a sworn enemy and hand-deliver him to the other side of the map. Aragorn asked, "What can I do for you?"

"Sir, I need to ask of your travels before the crown. Have you ever heard of the land of the Black Numenoreans?"

The King knew the Elf was on the scent, "Oh yes. An ancient and fell people driven south and south again as the kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor formed. The men of Belfalas finally sent them packing below the Anduin to be overcome by the Haradrim. Would you care to share your interest?"

Nag Kath considered and said softly, "A clue has pointed to them twice."

Aragorn remembered his trip to Harad well. "I have been south, far enough that the stars are not the same as here. Umbar was said built by them but abandoned to the desert peoples long ago. Gandalf once told me an ancient mariner of the south sailed further south finding great bays and inlets."

"It probably amounts to nothing, My Lord. Thank you for seeing me. One of these days I'll visit Radagast again and ask him. He is the last of the three."

Aragorn said, "Five." The Elf cocked his head slightly. "Gandalf told me there were five wizards, thought he did not remember the other two."

Nag Kath wondered, "Perhaps they did not come here with the others. When did Gandalf come?"

"He was very cagy about that, but most recently about two thousand years ago. He is much older, perhaps back and forth before that."

"Cagy puts it well. Again, Sire, thank you for your help and all my best wishes to your Lady Queen and young son."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Black Numenoreans! The Kings Men, loyal to Sauron. Whatever they were doing before would have limited opportunity now. They may have their troubles, but there were several known areas of lingering dark sorcery in the west. The Dead Marshes seemed no less threatening on his way home. He did not see the dead Elf this time. Did they leave one at a time rather than fading together?

In the meantime, his woman wanted to dance. His friends were always a joy. His interest in painting had increased and he thought he might even try his hand at writing. Nag Kath had quite a story already, and no one ever seemed to get it right in the telling. He told Phylless that he would like to visit her parents this winter so he could check the horse-teeth in Pelargir, perhaps take a quick solo trip downriver. She thought that was lovely and would write them today. Mail service was as fast as the ferries so they would know within the week. Mail was good to Dale too but Nag Kath could have waited forever for the last letter.

Brenen's daughter Renalda wrote that he was ill. He had never gotten a message in her hand which meant Bren wasn't up to writing, but they were his words. His wind kept getting worse and two weeks into August he had a stroke. He could think and move his left side but could not walk. All else was well, seven grandchildren now and they send their love. He also had her write that Nag Kath should not make a special trip back to Dale for him. He knew the Conaths would visit next spring if he wanted to come then. His love too and best. Nag Kath still debated whether he should delay the Pelargir trip and ride up. Brenen told him to stay, perhaps to let him die before they had to cry again. He would take Phylless home but he would be thinking of his son.

A real son! Of the people he loved, he would miss Brenen the most. Tal was special. But she had been loved by her first husband, her Elf and her second husband. She was born to be loved. How could one hope to live their life any better? Ardatha entered the world in what could have been terrible circumstances but she had been loved every minute of her life. As she was the best of wives, Eniece was the best of mothers, with caring helpers surrounding her always. Then; a fine husband and her own children, again; a life well lived.

But Bren did not have it so good. His mother, still with us, cared for him and his little sister as well as she could against his drunken father. He had to become a man younger than he should have. A stroke of luck; meeting Nag Kath, but neither of them had childhoods. He started working before he could legally keep his own earnings. Brenen worked well and built a business and a family that would last through his love.

Yes, Bren would be the hardest. Tears spotted the page.

~o~

They boarded the boat in mid-November, this time taking their horses. The plan was to stay until just before the snow-melt made getting back upriver treacherous. A weather-eye to the mountains would inform.

Phyll's folks didn't seem to get much older. They were both spry and active with life-long friends in their little community. Nag Kath rented a home nearby and they stayed there about half the time. The Maedegon mansion was large and poor Vergere moved very slowly. He was also forgetting things. The man had outlived any relatives who knew him after lifelong service to the milling family.

Phyll did not know what to do. He probably had some savings, though he was as honest a servant as one could find. She had cash. In kindness she could grant him a pension but then he would be old and alone in a new place. The only solution was to let him stay and tend the empty house. Phylless did broach cook, every day as old as Vergere with even less to do. The sweet old lady said she would tend the man and was already hiring out jobs that required lifting to a local lad. Since Miss Fennel traveled with them between these two places, Phyll's needs were in hand.

Only two days there, Nag Kath visited the governor after a runner returned with Onathal's reply. Yes, would Lord Kath join him and some staff for tea at the end of the working day tomorrow? Tea? Not likely, but he was the governor. Fondiscar was there. So were Kieff and Captain Ithil of the base Marines. The Elf was right about tea, which was offered but competing against stronger after-hours beverages. Onathal said in his husky voice, "Welcome back, My Lord. We are fortunately in seeing you often."

"Thank you, sir. My wife is from here and her parents are very much with us."

Kieff said, "Tell us of your adventures."

He did. Not much came of the Visitor or Orlo. Nag Kath did explain that a small reason for coming was to ask among the deep-blue captains of lands found journeying south. Captain Ithil said, "There is an old-salt, Dromedaes, who used to ply the southern coast. He looks as Umbar as Herumor but born and raised right here."

Kieff pulled his beard a bit before adding, "I should introduce you … not the most trusting fellow; Dromedaes. I don't know that he has what you want but I would ask there first."

There were no new tidings on the troll pit. It had been completely filled and the rocks dumped along the bank no closer than a hundred paces apart. Even flattened, no one with half a brain was interested in the property. Since it was government land, Nag Kath suggested they make it a park if only to see if grass would grow.

The strategic conference broke up before the men had to get home for dinner. They would see each other again during Nag Kath's long visit. On his way out, he asked Kieff, "Velland, this captain, is there any special greeting present he would favor?"

"Far ahead of you, Sir Elf. I have just the thing."

~o~

He did. The next morning, not too early, the two made their way across the Faithful quarter and over to the southwest bank. There they found a small, well-kept house with a tidy garden in front, not what the Elf expected of a retired mariner. Kieff knocked and they immediately heard the growl of a fair-sized dog on the other side of the door.

"All right, all right, what do you want?"

"Hello Captain Dromedaes. It is Velland Kieff come to call with a friend of mine."

"Is he a friend of mine?"

Kieff was expecting every word of this, "He has done good service for the people of Pelargir." The Minister did not mention larger Gondor. Haughty folk of the White City had not always been on their side in the days of the Stewards.

"A moment." They heard shuffling to suggest the dog was being placed in a closed room. The door opened and a grizzled old fellow stared into the sun behind the burly Kieff and a towering, blonde man. "Come in. Sorry, it is the maid's week off."

The place wasn't really that much the worse for his bachelor's touch – or widower's touch. Nag Kath did not intend to ask. Kieff pronounced, "This is Nag Kath" leaving off the Lord. He is visiting again after helping us before. I suggested you might be able to answer his questions about voyages afar."

The man could be Orlo's surly brother, quite bald with a thin beard but more of a ruddy complexion. A lifetime on the water will do that. Out of the glare, Dromedaes gave the Elf a second look with what seemed sharp eyes and said, "Well, you had better sit down." The dog barked at the voices and the Captain told him to shut up.

Nag Kath took the tallest chair across from the captain with Kieff in-between. No tea was offered or expected. There would be something to drink, though. The minister produced a small, stoppered flask and said, "I think I remember you liking this."

Dromedaes pulled the cork and sniffed, finally cracking his first smile. "Barley spirits, northern or I'm a fool." The sailor got the three cleanest cups from his pantry and set them on the low table. Pouring no more than a half inch in each he raised his and said, "To the men who went before us."

It would have been proper to drink the King's health first but good men's memory would serve. They touched their clay cups and swallowed. Knowing what to expect, Nag Kath had no trouble with his gulp, quite a bit smaller than the one that made his eyes tear in Trum Dreng.

The mariner said, "Kath, eh? Yes, you did us a service. Half of a troll head shores-up the east corner of the Sirith bend. They split it where your sword stabbed."

The Elf laughed, "Aye, I still carry that weapon, but it is not the pretty thing it was."

The dog growled again and the captain warned him before saying, "Very well, Kieff here can't hold much of this barley liquor so tell me what you need."

Nag Kath, as he often did, started speaking slowly to gauge the interest, "This is second cousin to the business across the bridge. I was in the east only this spring looking for more about the men who created the troll wards all those years ago. This may be of no moment but it refers to the lands of Black Numenoreans. Have you ever heard of such a place in your travels?"

Dromedaes poured himself another half inch. After finding its home, he wiped his mouth and said, "I have. Never been there or met anyone who had. There is an old story that a man of Mardruak sailed south along the coast for fully a year, discovering many wondrous places. People were of all colors and no one spoke even Harad."

That called for another cup but he only sipped, "I haven't been even as far as Erelond, relations being what they are, but plenty of Umbars and Haradrim get this far north. Mind, this was a thousand years ago. Tell was, the fellow brought back fabulous riches he traded for cloth and nails, and never sailed again. I'd have said it was bilge wash, but some of those queer things are on mantles today."

Nag Kath asked, "Could any such fellows be persuaded to share their tales?"

Dromedaes chortled, "They'll tell you anything you want, for all the good it will do you. There is one man though, Houlmanteg, lives in the Ethir, town of Meehin, or he did. He's older than me. He knows more than most. I know you are tougher than you look but that's no place for Dunedain."

The Elf put his hands on his knees and said, "I will visit. Would it be fair to say I don't want to arrive on a Marine vessel?"

The mariner gave that considerable thought after another sip. "Take one of the boats that rows and sails Odar back here. Two, three men, open deck, if it rains, you get wet. Houlmanteg doesn't drink, but he does spend."

They said their goodbyes. On the way back Nag Kath wondered, "Maybe one of those gourd boats?"

Kieff answered, "Needs to handle more water. Ask who delivers fish at the Kraken."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath would give Phylless another two weeks to see all and do all along with a couple blissful picnics in the country. They did have dinner at the Kraken. She wondered if that was his sort of place but the meal was good, good enough that her Elf want back to the kitchen to compliment the staff.

No trip to Pelargir would be complete without visiting the healer Beshugya. He owed her more than anyone alive. Her business had thrived after fixing the Elf Troll-Lord. In any place where people did not die young or poor, there would be backs to straighten and necks to turn. She was very proud he had remembered her and enjoyed the gifts he brought.

Wife attended, the Elf sought boatsman Mumphred at the docks. He was told to look for a craft with red trim around the gunwales. There was little paint anywhere on the Christul Dourff. Mumphred thought it an excellent idea to take a discreet passenger to the south mouth for a silver. For another silver, he would wait a couple days and bring him back. The Christul Dourff was a bit bigger than planned with four men who could sail or row. The faster the boat, the fresher the fish. It took them two days with the current and extra distance to turn the corner of the bay.

Meehin was an Umbar town. Officially part of Gondor now, you couldn't prove it by the citizens. Streets were still named for famous mariners and leaders who fought the Kings before the Stewards. Nag Kath was dressed plainly and wore one of his brown brim hats. By design, the boat berthed nearing dusk and their passenger hopped into the night.

There were no maps of Meehin, a town of perhaps 500 souls. It was on a small river collecting what water it could stretching from the dry places of the world. What it lacked in water it made-up for in protection from swells that could come into the bay at wrong angles.

A man was relieving himself in an alley. The tall stranger let him finish before asking in less than his Minas Tirith voice, "I seek Houlmanteg."

"Don't know him. What do you want, Gondor?"

"Settling an old debt. There's a fiver for someone who knows where he lives."

"Oh, Houlmanteg! Don't suppose you have the coin in hand?"

Nag Kath walked over and opened his palm. Sure enough, a five-groat copper was coin of the realm, or any other realm. The Elf handed it to him on good faith.

"You are nearly there. Take that street right and then four houses down, mind the dog." The Elf thanked him with a gift of yellow confusion to forget this little transaction. He could wonder where the fiver came from when he got home.

The dog was chosen for barking rather than biting. The peep door slid open and a woman grumbled, "Who is it?"

"I was told Mr. Houlmanteg could help me."

"That still doesn't answer who you are."

"Name's Solvanth."

The door shut for a minute and then reopened, "Never heard of you."

This could go on forever so Nag Kath quickly dropped a silver in the slot. The woman slammed the peep door against the hand reaching in but the coin spinning on the wooden floor changed attitudes. A minute later, a short Southron opened the door and said, "Come in."

The Elf did and looked around the dimly lit main room. The man looked at least sixty and the woman was about forty. He would know their relationship if they volunteered. Houlmanteg said, "Sit over there. We were having second supper. You just bought yourself a share."

Nag Kath smelled fish so he said, "Thank you. I missed the first."

At the table was an attractive young woman nearing twenty. The dog had stopped barking, which surprised his hosts. It just sniffed the Elf's trousers. Houlmanteg asked, "Solvang?"

"Solvanth."

"Tell me, Mr. Solvanth, what here's worth a dented king?"

Trying to sound like a scholar, Nag Kath said, "I try to learn of the lands south and east. Captain Dromedaes said you would tell me what you knew without, em, entertainment."

The peep-door woman snorted, "You mean not over wine!"

The Elf smiled at her and got a better look at the younger woman. None of them looked related. Just then, a baby started fussing in a back room and the lass went back to comfort it. The dog stayed by his leg. He answered, "Something like that."

His host said motionlessly, "You have my attention."

As the mother came back Nag Kath said, "This may take a while." Then he pulled another silver from his jacket and slid it across the table. In the parlance of information, an offer of two meant one was for the goods and the other for silence. The young woman returned as he continued, "As the lady said, this is not for ale-house stories. I want exactly as you know and if you do not know, I don't mind you saying so." He looked around the table and the female eyes were glued to the second coin.

"Do you know of the lands of Black Numenoreans?"

"Heard of them, don't know of them. Old before the ancients."

"Have men ever sailed there?"

Houlmanteg pocketed the next silver and said, "Doubt it. Good sailors have gone due south a thousand leagues and never found a way to the Undying Lands. It was said there is a huge bay, the size of Lebennin, but it does not go through. Further south, the land turns to ice, as is said of the north. Never been there either."

"Then how do stories come of this land?"

"They don't. This was said to be before Harad took Umbar. Maybe they are still down there."

Nag Kath shared a little, "That is curious to me. A man from the north said the same." The Elf ruminated to himself, "Southwest of Khand then."

That brought the mariner up sharp. He figured the Dunedain for a city dandy, Dol Amroth, with that pretty hair. He would learn a few things himself from the generous guest, "Khand, you say? Can't say I've been there either. Long way, Khand."

This wasn't particularly secret. Nag Kath said, "I've been there twice. But not very far down, no further south than Mordor."

The young woman, very forward for these people gasped, "Are you of Numenor?"

Nag Kath smiled, "Not that I know of, ma'am" thinking it was her babe in the back.

She said fiercly, "It is told they will rise up and take our lands back."

Her da, or grand-da, had entirely enough of that. "Silence girl! Knew you to keep your mouth shut we wouldn't have your fatherless baggage squalling all night."

She looked pole-axed, unused to his harsh words. Those were not the kind of coins usually crossing this table either. He was just defending his livelihood. It might not even betray their sympathies. The stranger had not said how he fell on the debate. Khand? Even with Mordor?!

Houlmanteg thought to cover the lapse with blandness, "Are you a scholarly person who writes for the archives?"

"At times. It is said a great warrior came from those lands when the last age was new. We know little of him. It was my father's passion." Not a complete lie; Saruman would certainly have been interested in these people. He arrived long after they were exiled from the north. Saruman was no more his father than Turnlie was his dinner's mother, but that was as close as he could get.

The young woman had still not replaced the blood in her face. The middle-aged woman did not look like a scold, perhaps a servant or relative taken-in. Nag Kath shifted the conversation to the wastes of Haradwaithe. The story he heard was that the rage of the Valar had condemned that land to sand. His host explained that people lived in small enclaves and knew how to survive but did little better. Southron armies came from more fertile ground beneath the southern Ephel range where the dark lord could reach them. The massive oliphaunts were on the southern horn of the Umbar gulf. Without Sauron to keep them together, the two Haradric peoples did not care for each other. Coastal Umbars were yet another strain.

The Elf had as much as he would get. He did not show them the coin or any of the ancient symbols. They were not the enemy. They were not friends. It was time to go.

Boatman Mumphred thought he had a few days at leisure and was visiting an establishment known for soothing the cares of mariners missing their loving wives. The crew was sleeping in their bedrolls. He rolled his out and joined them. It still took two days to get enough fish to make the trip worthwhile. Odar and other fishes were dragged in fine nets behind the craft to keep them alive.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

"Darling, I would never criticize, but you smell like a fish boat."

"This town seems to bring out the worst in me. I shall not kiss you hello until I am worthy."

Neighborhood man Inveg stayed close when they were at home and hauled buckets of Sirith water to a large trough in the back yard. As he did not need it warmed or upstairs, this was faster. Vergere brought tea.

Laying on his chest that night, Phyll asked, "What news?"

"I have gotten about as far as I will on the mysterious sorcerer. All of the clues keep getting thinner and further away. He may need to find me again."

"Are you disappointed?"

"No, no news is good news. Fell things seem to be behaving. That is the point. And I am not sure there is much appetite for conflict. Everyone is trying to make money these days. If I knew in my blood darkness was rising, I still couldn't raise a company of volunteers."

Phylless knew this was a sea-change. She probed gently, "Then what shall we do, you and me?"

"We will travel at leisure, see great things. We will do what we like and hold each other in our arms. I want to go to Dale next year, whether Reyald and Ardatha go or not. I think they will. They are very close to his brother and their oldest daughter. I need to see all my family."

She reached for him. This conversation would end soon, "Hmmm, then what?"

"I think we should live in Dol Amroth for a while."

It did not stop her hand but she did speak again, "All right, but you must be very nice to me."

~o~

Rains and melt would be early this year so they packed and went upstream at the end of February. Meanwhile, Nag Kath was still a figure in Pelargir. Folk would look and whisper wherever they went. That would fade in a few years. There is always something new. In Minas Tirith no one bothered. That was the city of King and he was merely an honorary Lord of no distinguished regiment. His activities in the east were not widely known or believed. People say the silliest things when drinking.

Shurran found himself another girl. Penlistra Fortizar, mercifully shortened to Penni, was twenty three, the second daughter of Urthn, onetime director of the collier's collective. Nag Kath thought her far too good looking to have been thrown-over for a frumpy Magister's daughter by her long-term suitor but Urthn Fortizar was not offering a dowry. His first lass had been bartered-off dearly and he wanted his sons to retain the family shares.

Shurran did not need any more money. He made a good salary designing buildings and still had some of the cash Uncle Nag slipped him in Dale so he wouldn't look like a vagabond. He did take a nice Kathen apartment on the third near his office and kept his horse at his parents'.

Other than them being cheap, Shur got along well with Penni's folks. Diluted royalty with means; Shur was secretly better than they hoped. Penni was a bright-eyed thing of about average height with long, dark brown hair that she braided in Rohan-style. Her reading was only fair, at best, but like every merchant's daughter, she could add and subtract numbers in her head. With a catch so near to hand, the Fortizars did not chaperone their youngest very closely. Tonight was dinner at Uncle Nag's.

"As I understand it, your father is in the coal business?"

"Yes, Lord Kath. He arranges the barges from the river and then wagons from the Rammas Gate."

Phylless said, "My parents were in the brewing business when I worked there. Do you work with your folks?"

"Nay, Lady Kath. My brothers see to things. Father says women have no business in business."

That earned da Fortizar no grace with Lady Kath, but she smiled and asked what the dear girl did with her time.

"I cook and care for the household. Mother's health is not strong."

If marriage-bells ring, old Fortizar would have to spring for a housekeeper! Nag Kath knew there must be some way to salvage the conversation. Without trying to sound like an actual grandfather, "Tell me, Penni, how did you meet this charming rascal?"

Her face brightened with a very nice smile, "We were introduced at a gathering by one of Shur's mother's friends."

Phylless exclaimed, "Imagine that!"

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. The youngsters left early ahead of a sleet-storm. Phylless sat next to her Elf on the couch and said, "Lovely lass. I hope it takes."

Nag Kath leaned his head back on the rest then craned it over to his wife. "Yes, after his disappointment I told him to seek what he wanted, not what he was supposed to want. People make these things too hard on their children."

"What did you say?"

"Find a girl who is true and loves you. Do not worry about cash or title or moving up in the world. Some folk have to, but Shur doesn't."

Phylless cooed and ran her fingers through his hair, "Is that what you found in me?"

"Nay, I married you for your lusts."

Phyll put her hand to her mouth in pretended shock, "Oh you terrible man. I thought it was my cooking. I suspect our Penni has some passions. Do you suppose Shurran knows about such things?"

That got her an attempt not to grin.

"No you don't! Tell me or I will strangle you in your sleep."

"I don't sleep."

"Out with it, orc!"

He told her about the Khandian girls in Dale. She was to take that to the grave. Ardatha probably figured it out but Reyald, well, she probably told him. Boys will be boys. Without mentioning Chûran by name, he also told her of the training selected women were given.

"Have you ever done that with me?"

"Some."

Some was not enough.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Before they knew it, spring was upon them. It was time to see Dale again. Reyald and Ardatha had not seen his brother or their daughter in three years. Granna Borenne was still hale and wrote every week. They looked forward to seeing the Carstors too and then would turn right on the Dwarf Road to the Buhr.

Nag Kath and Phylless would go too. She was a better long-range rider now and not too spoiled to cook fish in his old skillet. Shurran was going to stay in Minas Tirith. He wanted to see his sister and great grandmother but he had matters to attend in his new home.

Where there were no inns, the company usually camped with merchants but they rode too fast to travel with them. Staying outside the wagon ruts was safer for the horses too. Dornlas and Annlie were the same as always. The King and Queen were at their country estate where they spent more and more time, Elfwine and Tilli too, so no trips to the Meduseld.

Granna Borenne was as gracious as always. She moved very slowly, but faster than her maid. She must have a healthy dose of Dunedain, spirit of Queen Nephtat! They were with her two days, saw Carstors for two days, returned to the lake for three more and went their separate ways with plans to meet in Dale in two months, or send word if otherwise.

Nag Kath and Phylless rode to Dale and took the key from under the potted pegrum. At the two-bell, they rode up to Brenen's house. The maid answered and said, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Kath."

Letters through the winter said Bren was holding his own, but that ended two weeks ago. The message would have passed them on the way. She showed them to the main room and told Nedille. Ever the picture of poise, Bren's widow told them he slipped away gently with the children at his bed. Nag Kath had thought his goodbyes when news of the stroke came. He still choked-up. That was for Bren but here was grieving Nedille. They were inseparable all those years. She said Aleurn was probably not far behind, poor thing. Brenen had dictated a letter to his da. His widow fetched it and put it in his hands but he could not open it yet, not now.

Nedille was glad to see them but clearly busy with other things. If she would give them two days to get a cook, she and the family must come down for dinner. A compromise was made for dinner here in two days and they rode back to the house. It was warm enough outside to not need a fire and they ate at the Bear and Rose as soon as it opened.

Phylless watched his face closely. It seldom gave anything away but she had learned the hints by now. "Sorry Nag. Will you be fine?"

He returned to the world and said, "Yes, but sometimes I wonder that I must do this to everyone I love. Men must too, but at some point, it is they who are grieved and others go on. It is the choice of that or not to love. That would be many times worse." He added something she had never heard before. Her Elf was very quiet about his long-term future, it being so much later than the people he knew now. "That would also be the point I knew I had lost my way. The dark ones stopped loving, if they had ever loved at all. With love; there is giving and taking. I must never stop giving."

The next morning he went by the office. Old Mrs. Whendam was in. Bart was attending an auction near the wharves with Brenen's oldest Turenon. She said after having his father so long a-dying, he was ready. There were no bad memories. How many could say that? Bart was back before the tea was cold and gave Uncle Nag a Northman hug. He stopped just long enough to tell Mrs. Whendam, "Missed it. Jennald must have wanted that place badly. I do not know how he will make his money back." He got tea from the kettle and stirred in a bit of honey. "Nag, are you just in?"

"Yesterday, a little late, I'm afraid."

The Secretary, who had been there longer than Bart, said, "Bren wouldn't have that. He would have told of troll gold or how you turned him green at the healer's."

Uncle Nag smiled, "Let us not forget the flower lady's scowling daughter! So Bart, what news."

"We have a child on the way!"

The Elf raised his eyebrow.

"No one told you? Graciel and I married last fall."

He had quite forgotten. So that worked. Tal, your matchmaking empire was not exclusive. "That's grand, no, no one said, but that was when correspondence took a turn. Phyll and I will be here for a couple months while Reyald and Ardatha are in Austar. We have plenty of time to relive the old stories."

Bart grinned, "And add a few new ones."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Everyone else was the same. Burry was still not a man to insult, armed or not. Some men are tough until the day they die. Lola was his steady companion. All their children were independent and frequently home for dinner. Lotold Brighten's wife had been poorly. She should be a young sprig at seventy but heart problems ran in her family. Hearts were something healing could do nothing for. The rest of them were fine. Rules for ale were suspended in honor of the hero of the Celduin. Nag Kath never had any idea what they did for support. It was considered ill-mannered to ask about commerce and they had never mentioned it. Like a lot of Hobbits, it was possible they came into an inheritance since they were such frugal savers and did not have large families.

Before dinner Nag Kath dashed off letters to both Rosscranith and the King as a courtesy to let them know he was here. Rosscranith answered back the next day by messenger suggesting a glass of Dorwinion two day's hence, regrets only. Nag Kath took Phylless. She was his love and this shouldn't be all that skull-duggerous.

~o~

"It is good to see you, my friend. How long has it been?"

"Two, three years. Not long by my usual neglect."

"You will not find it much changed. It is a pleasure to see you again Lady Kath."

She smiled, "Phylless."

"Yes, much better that way. Everyone is a lord these days. Nag, I retired at the turn of the year. I've been training-up new men and it was time for one of them."

"You lasted quite a while when the broom swept clean."

"I was the broom, but the King is wise beyond his years and now his years are prime. There's another babe on the way."

Nag Kath smiled, "Carstors is that much more relieved. I saw him a week ago. The man has made an art of living."

"But for your pictures and manly advice, he might wear the crown today."

Another story Phylless hadn't heard. Rosscranith was required to tell it badly, but humorously, with the Elf filling the gaps, "I think the discarded portrait of him is in my folder. I'll look."

It was good to catch-up. Nag Kath always thought Rosscranith the very best of men, a man for his time who met the challenge. His nation had been stable, prosperous and free since he took a leading role in its governance. Of course, the story of Pelargir took two glasses of wine to explain with Phylless' help. She was a woman for her time too.

After two weeks of obligatory, but enjoyable meals and drinks, Nag Kath and Phylless took their leisure. He was sorry that she could not see Erebor, even the parts men were allowed. Rosscranith said relations with the King Under the Mountain had not improved and the Prince was seldom seen. The orcs never missed their fish wagons but had no dark tales Men of the northern stations kept the tradition of cooking a pig that day to share with the messenger and soldier-orcs hanging back in the shadows. They would not eat with them. Diplomacy has its limits. Golord was still happy to see him.

The Elven Halls were probably not for her eyes as well. He could drop Legolas' name now but that might not pull much weight with the Silvans. Besides; Legolas had not yet warmed to the changeling water-cleanser. Another couple hundred years and they would be tight as Dwarf cousins! To fill the time, they took picnics where her Elf knew they would be alone. Now well into her forties, her desires still burned. Khandian girls indeed!

Nag Kath never did hear back from King Bain, though it was common knowledge he was in the city. The man did not hold as many public viewings and ceremonies as his father. The Elf forgot, for the first time, to ask after the dowager. He would leave it to Miss Quessan to find him.

Belatedly, they had lunch with Bart and Grace. She was due in a few months and moving slowly. Lamb was on the menu. It was good to see people he loved in love. Almost any mortal man would have recoiled at the thought of a lover in the arms of a friend, arguably a relative. That was too much pride laid bare. Not the Elf. He thought Grace was a born mother and Bart a perfect father. To ice the cake, Bard returned with Ros from the country home after Bren's funeral and the two pulled up chairs at the table. Nag Kath thought life could not be better than this.

Before they knew it, the Conaths arrived on schedule and it was time to make for the lake. Torrold and Gerda were fine. Reyald mildly scolded his brother for not visiting the White City now that he was such a grand Thain. Torrold admitted it was his turn. Their grandchildren were getting so tall!

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

They reached home in early July, just in time for the Feast. Two years ago, Nag Kath was minding sorcerous Visitors. This time they gathered at the tavern with Tim, Marie, Marletta and her now husband. As he would do whenever he could for the rest of his life, Nag Kath lit a candle for the three days of Gelansor.

Shurran had an announcement. He and Penni were to wed. It was not on the scale of royal unions but this was a fairly large undertaking on the light calendar of Fourth Age 45. She was not with child. Nag Kath secretly checked when shaking her hand in congratulations. Phyll thought that beneath him.

Tal was the Queen of Love. She could never quite match Nag Kath's production of a King, but that was unintentional. He got credit for the baby due any day in Dale too. Here and now, Penni was a beautiful bride. Her folks even paid for a fine gown. They did not need to rent the hall since Kathen Properties owned it and Ardatha chose the planner because the best was certainly more than collier Fortizar's budget. As always, the Elf and his woman ducked out a side door while the party was in full-swing.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The Anduin flooded in the spring of 46. There was a pox that hurt Osgiliath and Pelargir both. It came to the White City with people fleeing their own disease. Nag Kath spent a lot of time healing, pulling fevers just enough to set folk on their way to recover so he could help as many as possible before collapsing. Hundreds still died. Before the water, most of them might have died. More citizens than would ever know owed their lives to the Dunlending covered with pigeon droppings in the secondary statue garden.

Phyll was ill too. Her man held her closely every day for a week, always saving something for her alone, riding hard before Tilion guided his moon across the sky. Charlo was still strong but he alternated with Maida to keep them fresh. Phylless had spoon-fed him in his time of weakness. He gave her part of his life in hers.

That summer they went to Pelargir with a lot more crates. Both horses came with their tack. They had clothes, weapons, art supplies, Miss Fennel, money, Lembas and more than a few books. As always, they spent time with Phyll's parents and then took the deep-water ship to Dol Amroth. To start, they booked long-term rooms at the Great Sail inn. The plan was to discover the city and then lease or buy a home. What he wanted most was to not take a long trip every year. He had been doing that for fifteen years. Elves might not think that onerous but he lived like a man and it had left him dulled. There were many of the things you could get in Minas Tirith here. Pelargir too, but he liked the sea better than the river.

~o~

Dol Amroth was the capital of Belfalas but by location, had almost nothing to do with the rest of the fief. Interior residents were not always happy about that. Unlike most important coastal cities, the river forming the harbor had little commercial value except for wood from the Ringlo to build or repair ships. The Anduin, through more southerly Lebennin, controlled goods coming and going to Gondor proper. The mainland population was more closely related to peoples of central Gondor than the remaining Dunedain bloods of the Princely capital.

Nag Kath intended to explore all of it but first he had to learn more about here and make sure his Phylless was fine. She was used to sea travel now, a good thing because it was a long, bumpy horse-ride back to Minas Tirith. Civilization stopped at the Ringlo. The peninsulas of Anfalas and Andrast above were largely unpopulated.

After unpacking, their first call was to Caladrion and Eniecia's home above the war harbor, the first of three coves coming into the inlet built for ships of the Marines. It was a small, pleasant place and close to Cal's posting. By a turn of fate, they arrived just after his ship put-in for three weeks of plank repair. Water, worms and barnacles only gave wood below the waterline about six or seven years of reliability.

Field was three and Callistra was nearing two. After an unremembered introduction to Uncle Nag and Aunt Phyll, they practiced joint maneuvers on a large orange cat that decided the middle shelf of the bookcase was the perfect place to watch. A governess minded them while the adults enjoyed a nice breeze on the porch.

Marriage suited them both. Like all Marine and sailors' wives, Eniecia worried when he was away. There were many women in the same situation and they relied on each other. Eniecia had made quite a few friends among them and elsewhere too. These days; casualties were largely due to accidents and weather. Not so long ago, many ships were lost in battle. The forces of the fief were ostensibly for self-defense but Cal explained they had primary responsibility for the mouth of the Anduin and points south. Umbar pirates blended into the mud flats and reappeared in force on short notice. Pelargir maintained a presence too but mainly provisioned line ships on patrol.

It was a long meal and they didn't talk about much at all. Phyll got the sense that with the brave warrior just back from a long voyage, the couple had things to discuss privately. There would be plenty of time. Cal did have a few suggestions about where to look for a home but his mother's friends were the experts.

~o~

The two fundamental choices were near the water or working up the central plateau from the Old Town. The plateau itself was the Prince's domain with gardens and pastures for the family's sustenance. Most of the food for everyone else was carted in from farms on the mainland immediately east of the city gates. Three quarters of the peninsula coast were steep rock cliffs descending into the sea. That made Dol Amroth expensive to provision but it could only be attacked from the harbor. Town militias trained to discourage that.

Nag Kath and Phylless both wanted to be nearer the water. They were city dwellers at heart and the flats along the harbors were where culture and art and places to eat were almost piled on top of one another. He had worn some shoe-leather in a few parts stalking the witches. Together they would canvas many more. Stabling was hard to come by.

None of that was a problem. They stayed in on rainy days. They walked everywhere. This was the high season for singing and the glorious harpists of renown. There were plays and dance. Just south of the creek splitting the Commercial Harbor from the Working Harbor was a large amphitheater for any of those entertainments needing scale. Traveling troupes came and went.

One of the reasons the couple was taking their time was that the city was famously elite. Strangers were not welcomed with open arms. Nag Kath had some entree as a Lord of Galador, but he was also a former orc, mostly Elf and not an elbow fighter in high society. What made it worse was that he didn't care, sure to infuriate anyone hoping to take tactical advantage. Phylless was a tradesman's daughter.

They got insights into their station when calling cards sent to the Prince and Lord Ercherion were answered by an invitation to a long-schedule ball in the main palace. One did not simply walk up to the gates. There was a tightly controlled gauntlet up the southern highlands and then through walled baileys. The lay of the land and the fortifications were designed more against an internal revolt than an outside military attack since once someone had a foothold in the harbors, they controlled the city. There were ways to get to the palace from the water, but not for women in party shoes. The solution was for people to walk through the gate exposed to a quarter mile of weather or a string of carriages on occasions like this. The gala was on a pretty night so Nag Kath and Phylless walked with about fifty other guests and were passed by at least that many in carriages.

The occasion was a celebration of a previous Prince. Neither of them knew how far back. For the first five minutes they did not see anyone they knew. From behind, Lady Yeniel walked over to say hello. They had only seen her during or right after the sorcery so there was not a store of happy memories. Her color was back and she offered her hands for his kiss and Phylless' touch. No man hovered nearby. Yeniel took them to her father near one of the large north-facing windows. After accepting their bows, he gave Nag Kath a hearty handshake and kissed Phyll's hand. Subtle eye movements confirmed that all health was restored then the Lord introduced them to a few of the city lights.

First were Lord and Lady Conustal. In Minas Tirith, and certainly Dale, lords and ladies usually dropped the titles unless one was royalty or there was a wide gap in age. Dol Amroth lost those more slowly. When half the room was lordly, what was the difference? They played by the rules and said they were looking forward to their stay.

Another couple approached and was welcomed as Devoran and Whilmina Teluvies. There was history with both first names but that could wait. They did not seem to be lords of any stripe so when the Conustals drifted off with Erchirion, the four chatted. In any party, one can talk about weather, what a lovely event and the turnout. If you know, you can include weddings, ship arrivals and Gondor. Devoran, also called Dev, launched straight into the troll-slaying in Pelargir. His family bought rope from people Phyll knew slightly and a cousin was in the Third Marines tracking the beasts around the Quarter of the Faithful.

Nag Kath was proud of that whole business but did not lord it either. Whilmina, a plain but very gracious woman, was a bit overawed so Phyll mentioned someone they probably both knew before the conversation returned to the battle. The Elf kept it alive because he wanted a sense of how that, and certainly other adventures, would affect their plans. The intention was to stay a few years, but they would leave tomorrow if this was not what they wanted. To feel the pulse, Nag Kath turned to the relaxed Whilmina and said, "I do hope you have no fell creatures here, dear woman. We have had quite enough."

"Oh no, Mr. Kath. But a deputation of the Drúedain came on the anniversary of the great battle last year. They had been sent gifts and brought their own. Lord Alphros went up the coast to receive them and honor the day."

Nag Kath had heard of the strange Dwarf/men, "I know their service was honored. Do they come here often?"

Dev handled that one, "Never. Even then they stayed to the upper peninsula. They have the King's grant of isolation, unless one applies for leave." He said more humorously, "I do not believe the application list is very long. There it is said they conjure queer magiks and keep to the forest."

Magik, eh? Nag Kath would ask about that. His exploits in different parts of Middle-earth did not follow him very far, though many knew of the water, both waters.

Nag Kath and Phylless thought they should pay their respects to the Prince who was outside. Most of the party was outside. That was the nature of events here when weather allowed. His Lordship was surrounded by people so they approached and bowed, waiting to be acknowledged.

The Elf was hard to miss, even in a crowd of relatively tall folk. His hair was long and covered his ears. Elphir smiled and said, "Glad you could come."

They came to his group and Nag Kath said, "Thank you for your gracious invitation, My Lord. May I introduce my wife Phylless?"

"How do you do, dear Lady"

She replied, "Having a lovely time, Prince Elphir."

He nodded and said, "Good, good. Let us set aside some time for tea soon. I should like to hear your views on recent events."

Honored, they were about to let him get back to his conversation when he added, "Lord and Lady Kath, please meet Lord and Lady Vendrithorn."

They were a tall, elegant pair of about forty in mannish years but could be considerably older with the blood of Numenor. The Lords both bowed and ladies curtseyed. Vendrithorn said, "Are you enjoying your time, Lord Kath?"

"Indeed, sir. Everyone has been very gracious. We hope to stay a while and visit family."

She asked, "Have you been here before?"

Phylless answered, "My second trip, his third."

Lord Vendrithorn smiled and finished, "We hope you can see everything before you leave."

A dismissal? Most new people here would return to wherever they called home. They had not made their plans known. Neither of the Kaths made anything of it and wished them a pleasant evening. That lag in the festivities was soon refreshed seeing Legorn and Durnalath Ivandred. They were excellent company and in-laws; a rare combination. Legorn took them over to fill their wine goblets and made a few more introductions to folk who seemed interested. The senior Ivandreds had been told they were in town but thought to let them settle in a few weeks before adding to their schedule.

~o~

Later that night she mused, "… before we leave?"

"Junior Elves, really. This is a closed society. That is easier to do in a time of great warriors. But with merchants and sailors and orcs up in the world, it is hard to stay pure. I shouldn't worry. We need nothing they have."

The next day was overcast and dreary. Phyll sat by the window reading a book. After reading to him she found she liked it. Her hand was still basic without the artistic flair taught to fifth-level lasses. He used the break to make a few calls. The first was to the Narvous Untorish at the thread shop. They were both there hoping rain wouldn't keep ladies or their maids from shopping. He was recognized immediately. He said, "Well hullo, Mr. Kath. Welcome back to our little port."

"Thank you. I hope you are both well. I wanted to see if you received your papers."

"Indeed we did, sir, by special messenger."

"They have been a help to me, and many of the people who carry that torch. I saw you covered the old glyph."

She said, "Very next day. Now if Narvous would just paint the rest of the eaves …"

He scratched the back of his head and said vaguely, "Yes, I need to get to that."

Nag Kath made a note to hire a painter for them. It would be a small cost and he did not look like he should be more than two steps up a ladder. They shared a cup of cool tea and spoke of how those symbols had turned-up in the least likely places.

"Now you know, Mr. Kath. I saw something like that other one what was it …" he looked at his wife who shook her head, "… maybe a year ago."

The Elf scribbled Fûl on a scrap and turned it for them to see. Untorish said, "Like that. I have a hard time telling them apart."

Nag Kath did not alter his good humor a bit and said, "I have the same trouble. They are not letters so one can't make a word out of them. I don't suppose you recall where it was?"

He looked at his wife again with the same shake and said, "Might have been on a ship, not here, maybe in the working harbor. Our main business is canvas line for riggers. Might have seen it there."

The Elf smiled and said, "Probably nothing. As you said, they look alike."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

On his way to Mrs. Hürna's he thought there might be someone in the guardi who should make a habit of wandering by ships in port. Those lads might be buying supplies for a fight back at the river mouth.

"Well! You said you would be back." She turned her head, "Gulleth, some hot tea for a gray day!"

Mrs. Hürna put him in her tallest chair and took a sip without waiting for his to arrive. "Back long?"

"Couple weeks. We'll stay a while this time. Not that I plan to horn-in on your business."

"Ha! You can have it. Every now and again I get an offer I can't turn down but you can have the rest."

Before we came there was a nasty pox upriver. I pulled a lot of those. Phylless had it too."

Tsitsa put her tea down and asked, "Poor dear, she's all right?"

"Reading at the inn, thank you. Starts in the stomach and moves to the lungs gone bad. It is different every year."

The old lady cackled. Witches always cackle. "Don't I know it? That's why Lady Hürna is retired. You do this long enough; you take one that won't leave." His tea arrived and they both sipped before she continued, "Staying a while? Where you going to be?"

"We're taking our time on that. I think near the water, although it is nice up here too."

"Wouldn't you know, this was the house of the rogue with the two witches. Seems he met with an accident and it was available to the newly coined Lady of the Fief. Convenient; wouldn't you say?"

"Nice of him to consider your view. You know this place now. You know me. Where should I look?"

Hürna finished her mug and gave that a few moment's thought before recommending, "For someone your age and energy, I would look in the New Port, but back up enough to miss all the yelling along the quay. That or the Middle Port. Let your lovely wife decide."

"We are of the same mind. You would think me slack if I didn't ask if anyone else is encroaching on your clientele?"

She waved her maid for another mug and said, "Not for sure, but when I told a couple people I was retired, they didn't beg, and they were sickly enough that they would have without an alternative. You'll find lots of herb healers in Old Town. You found me. You'll find them."

He said, "I had good luck with one of the eastern muscle healers. That really works."

"Got some of them too. The strumpet's guild complained until they had a look at them!" That got a cackle. "It is all the same body, just different paths. I'm glad you told me. Now if you can just get rid of the alchemists."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The next day cleared and the couple strolled the Middle Port. Homes were pretty up three and four rows from the quay but there wasn't much to do so they crossed one of many bridges from the stream leading down from the plateau and made east for the New Port. He realized in the looking that he really didn't want to immerse them in the full daily life of the city. Given his lifestyle, they should be able to pick and choose where to dip their toes.

Ground was fairly flat for a hundred paces from the waterside but then it climbed steeply and leveled again before a gradual grade towards Old Town. The space between was rocky and undeveloped but it gave the homes behind it a nice buffer and a view of the commercial harbor. They both liked the area. Homes came in all different sizes. Legorn recommended an estate agent at the Prince's gala so they thought tomorrow they would inquire.

Most unusually, the agent was a woman. With a name like Furris Dalcomb who would know? Her secretary showed them into the tiny office and brought tea while they waited for the agent to get back from a client's. The woman was about Phyll's age and had a businesslike handshake.

"How can I help you, Lord and Lady Kath?" She addressed the woman of the house. Most people would direct the conversation to the man. Since she asked, Phylless replied, "We are considering leasing or even buying here and wondered about the area just above New Port."

Mrs. Dalcomb looked into both their eyes and asked, "Have you been looking long?"

The Elf answered, "A few weeks, and we have been here before. Friends suggested a few places we might visit."

Agent Dalcomb had to determine three things, as she would with any client: what was their budget, how much did they know about property and what did they know about Dol Amroth? They had already covered enough of the third."

Asking about the second would probably answer the first. The woman smiled and said, "Buying or leasing; two different animals."

Phylless alternated, "There is so much yet to learn. If a home is perfect, we think to purchase. If it is elusive, we can wait." Phyll knew that didn't answer Dalcomb's most important question so she added, "Our other homes are in places we know better."

That got Nag Kath and Phylless the full-service smile, "One of my colleagues has a property in that area that might serve. First, please tell me your requirements."

That was easy. They liked space, windows, a small outdoor area and near to water. They had almost no furniture with them and would attend to that based on the house. That put paid to the money question too. Being a lord said little. One of her distant uncles was a lord of some sort and lived above his daughter's candle shop.

Mrs. Dalcomb wasted no time walking over to Mr. Kennaldir's larger estate office and asking about the old woman's place above the rocks. It had been available for a while and like most places where someone got too old, it needed a few things. The couple had not mentioned time but their question of leasing suggested they weren't pressed. They said nothing about needing to sink Florins into making it presentable.

The arrangement with estate agents here, and most places, is that the person who found the buyer and the one who found the seller would split the fee. They had done several transactions together, not without tension, but they got paid. Mr. Kennaldir handed her the key and asked to be kept informed.

~o~

The next morning after breakfast Nag Kath and Phyll walked from their inn to Mrs. Dalcomb's, only fifteen minutes away. She told her secretary to mind the fort and took them to the home, which she had only seen from the outside.

The out-of-town couple stood in front of it for several minutes without saying anything. As any merchant knows, that means something but says nothing. Her gentleman customer walked back the way they had come for a look at one side of the home and then went a bit further for the other. It was on a much larger lot than the homes nearby. Back with his wife, he spent quite a while looking at the roof. She nodded slightly to him and had Mrs. Dalcomb open the door.

~o~

Oh dear! Kennaldir had some explaining to do. The large main room was filthy with black smudges above the sconces. She would not have rolled bodies for the paupers' graveyard in the carpets strewn about the floor. Putting the best face on it the agent said, "I believe the former owner went to her ancestors some time ago. Shall we look further?"

No one screamed or fled. Dalcomb resolutely strode towards what she hoped was the kitchen. Lord and Lady Kath would have servants but women always wanted to see where food is prepared. It was slightly cleaner, as if whoever was cooking here kept their own space up. Other rooms around the perimeter were somewhere between the two.

Upstairs was a lot like Nag Kath's place in Dale; a large master's room, two smaller bedrooms, a maid's quarters and a privy closet but about half was open to the ground floor. Most had windows of real glass and the whole house would catch the rising sun. With the plateau behind them, no one got much of a sunset.

Mrs. Dalcomb did not know if the elegant couple were born to their titles or earned them until now. True nobility would have covered their faces with their nose-clothes and bustled out to open air. These two wandered about appraising the situation before walking back to the road. As if forgetting something, the Elf exclaimed, "Oh, my notepad! Mrs. Dalcomb, may I have the key to go fetch it?" She gave it to him and he went back while the ladies talked.

Inside, he used a drawing spell to raise himself up to one of the main cross-beams to check the corner braces. He seldom used that. It was the same humor as bringing small objects to him, but he could lift his own weight drawing from stationary objects. The changeling floated down with hardly a sound and rejoined the women out front. Phyll gave him the chin rub to suggest it would serve; his cue to say, "It needs a deal of work."

The agent said smoothly, "So it seems. We have a number of quality builders here in the city."

"Can you have one tell us what is required?"

She knew that was reasonable, and that this Lord Kath was no one's fool, a pretty thing, yes, but not like some of his ilk. The woman looked like she could make decisions too. The builder could find them at their inn after his review. On the way there Phyll said, "I feel I should boil my shoes."

"Aye, it's a gaol. Otherwise perfect. If the roof and supports are sound, it can be made presentable. I have no idea what it is worth. I expected dearer than Osgiliath but less than the fifth."

Phyll said, "I will leave it to you. Now, let us get out of these clothes and think of something else to do."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Forgiven Kelvar was a sad-eyed man at the end of his days on high ladders. His son and two nephews did that now. He told the desk clerk that he was here to see the Kath's and stood with his cap in his hand at the bottom of the stairs. The lad fetched His Lordship who came down and shook hands, something not every gentleman did with workmen. They took chairs by a window.

"Well sir, I see it like this. It is not falling down. The outside and supports are solid. But it will take a deal of work before I'd put my dear wife's bottom inside."

The Elf said, "I noticed the cross-beam supports were only single-ganged, hadn't seen those before. We come from where there is snow and such would not serve."

Forgiven was not expecting that from the elegant Dunedain, one; he looked and two; he knew what it was. "That's common here, but I would recommend Houl-braces in the corners."

Nag Kath asked, "Mr. Kelvar, what would it cost to make the place suitable?"

"Three Florin to be presentable, more depending on your tastes."

"Between us, any idea what it is worth as it stands?"

"Not a groat over five. You don't tell the agent I said so, but I'd offer four and see what happens. Mind, this will take months to do." Forgiven looked around the inn and added, "You could do worse while you wait."

Nag Kath said, "Thank you, Mr. Kelvar. What do I owe you?"

"Mrs. Dalcomb is paying."

Nag Kath slipped him a nipper and said, "From now on, you work for me."

"Couldn't have put it better myself, sir."

They offered four. Kennaldir was outraged at such an insulting bid but hadn't actually seen the inside either. On inspection, his counter offer of four and a half was split and the Kath's paid in gold. Forgiven Kelvar could start work after he finished Mrs. Londigar's chimney next week and got enough of an advance to add another lad who was good on beams.

As he said, it would be a while, so Lord and Lady Kath continued sightseeing and spent a lot of time with Eniecia when Cal shipped-out for a month. The two little children paid a lot more attention to their tall uncle when he was able to pull sweets out of their ears. In a quiet moment, Eniecia said she had lost a third child several months in and had not conceived since. That wasn't normally man-talk but Uncle Nag wasn't your usual grand-da. She allowed him to examine her quite closely while Phyll entertained the children. When she was dressed he told her, "I think there here may be difficulty to start, but if it takes, another child should quicken with the room it needs to turn. Be patient …" he smiled, "But not too patient."

"Thank you from me and my wonderful man."

"Be his water blossom always."

~o~

Most days Nag Kath stopped at the house. Not that he did any of the work but this was his primary business. Brenen and Bard in particular bought sound homes the worse for attention and fixed them up. Kelvar bolstered the rafters before his men saw to the roof slates. Those were in good repair. Phylless had opinions on colors and floors and all the things she was supposed to as work progressed.

~o~

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~o~

Checking an errand off his list, Nag Kath went to the guardi office and asked to speak to the head, not something many folk did. A senior Sergeant came from the back and said he was on duty while Captain Inoldus was in town and asked how he could help.

The Elf said who he was. The Sergeant knew of him. Nag Kath said a merchant, whose name he could not recall, told him of the dark symbol being seen on a merchant ship on the wharf. The Sergeant knew more of him than most. He asked, "Anything to do with your friends upriver?"

"The very same. It is a small thing, but if your lads should happen to see this symbol anywhere on a ship, or anywhere else, come to that, you might wonder their business. I am not in a position to instruct you, Sergeant, but I don't know as I'd let them know you know."

"Right you are sir. I expect there's those who would be interested." The moment that was out of his mouth, the Captain returned. It was the quiet man who had put the tail on the assassin whose house Mrs. Hürna called home. They recognized each other immediately. He had risen high enough to have a name.

"Lord Kath, this is a pleasure. No secrets with Sergeant Lournes." They recapped the short conversation as the guardi head held his chin and drank in every word. Looking in both faces, Inoldus asked, "Troubles from the east?"

"Probably just those wishing for the bad times again. If they are here buying supplies, you might add a maker's stamp and see where they turn-up. For something more serious, I will be living here for a while and am always at the service of the Prince and King."

That was the easiest bit of crime-prevention Inoldus had done in a while. He asked Nag Kath to draw the symbol on a few sheets of paper to show his walking Sergeants and wished him luck on the house. Lower guardi didn't need to know those. They were good men, but why tempt them to tip bad 'uns for a few coppers, eh?

Cal was back a bit early. They had a scrape with a pirate and a skeleton crew brought a useable ship back into harbor. Repairs gave him at least two weeks on leave, probably more like three. He, Eniecia, his parents and the Kaths took in the first Catanard in the large amphitheater not far from the new house. It was one of the tragedies, which they still managed to make comical. The players were the best of the best where it mattered most. Painted canvases on frames were used behind the stage to depict different locations with musicians tucked away in front.

For the first time, Nag Kath and Phylless strolled the piers. Warships were in the first cove, fishing boats had most of the second and the cargo ships, including those carrying passengers, were in the section closest to the causeway. Yet another nook was past that where people docked at will. Some of the berths held houseboats where people lived year-round, a bit like Lake Town. Toss a line off your porch and pull in dinner.

The house took two weeks longer than planned but Mr. Kelvar did a good job. The Elf gave him a bonus which also paid to paint the thread shop. Their new home had Nag Kath's first real office. He would almost never use it. Durnalath had been shopping for a cook all month and found a woman of about fifty who had recipes for dozens of local fish. She took the downstairs room next to the kitchen. She and Miss Fennel looked like peas from the pod but took a while to coordinate.

Getting furniture took almost as long as the building. It seemed the Woodworker's Guild was at odds with the Leather-crafters. A dynastic marriage between children of the guilds had collapsed in infidelity. The argument persisted until one of the city Magisters hauled the guildmasters before him with threats of fines if the two didn't come to terms. Their furnishings were at the bottom of the page. Nag Kath put two straw bales on the veranda to watch the sunrise.

Their horses were bored. Nag Kath and Phylless made a point to ride at least once a week if it wasn't raining and explored the mainland up and down the coast. Most of that had steep cliffs too but the ground was flat above. Sometimes Phylless put Eniecia on Charlo to get the woman out of the house when her Cal was at sea. Being a junior officer's wife could get pretty dull.

It took longer than expected but the Elf got an invitation to visit the Prince. It did not include Phyll so he guessed this was business. It was. Captain Inoldus was in the meeting room along with a grave minister of unknown age. Elphir was affable and asked him to sit.

"How has your new home progressed, Lord Kath?"

"We are in, sir. It took some doing."

"Captain Inoldus you know. This gentleman is Minister Ghournalis who handles our defenses." The men nodded. "Minister Ghournalis, Captain, can you tell our guest what you found?"

Ivandols said, "I did as you suggested, Lord Kath, and had some of my senior men keep an eagle-eye out for those little symbols. They found two, both on trading ships. In one case; they brought nothing and left with sail cloth. In the other, they brought nothing and left with logs long enough for masts."

Ghournalis spoke with a deep, rough voice. Despite his minister's cloak, he was a soldier through and through. "That suggests folk we do not abide are getting supplies to build ships."

Nag Kath considered that and said, "At worst. It may also be that a deckhand carved it in idle time. May I ask, sirs, I've never seen a pirate vessel. Where are those made?"

The Prince took that question, "They hide in the harbors of Harad. Some are captured from Gondor, merchant shippers caught by the faster corsairs. Most come from Umbar, unofficially, of course."

Ghournalis added, "The King's understanding prohibits them building warships, but we do not have many friends down there to complain."

The Elf wondered, "I should have thought getting timber down there would be difficult."

The Captain this time, "It is, but the builders pay bright coin for what can be had."

Nag Kath held his chin without realizing it and said, "If you gentlemen are in the mood for a long story, I should probably tell you about Fûl."

He did. These were high ministers of Gondor so the Elf told them anything he would have told Aragorn. They sat through the history quite well, asking questions every now and again but not making points. Wine halfway through smoothed. Nag Kath finished with, "Adherents of those opposed to Sauron replaced it to prevent the beasts from being summoned.

"Now here is what I think; Sauron's greatest servant was the Witch-King of Angmar. That is his sigil. He commanded the servants. I was created by Saruman who had nothing close to the Nazgûl's power. I have spent most of my life seeking to destroy the sorcery left by the Witch-King. Like the trolls, I find surprises. Fûl is becoming the symbol of those opposed to the Reunited Kingdom. They have no great powers at all. They would have you think so and threaten those who resist. Doing so declares their sympathies, not very discreetly, it seems."

The minister had paid close attention. Finally he remarked, "And those are just the ships we found. More may be used that have not shown their hand."

Inould added, "And may not even know if they deliver to countrymen who then put them on different ships."

The Prince put his hands on the table and said, "Nag Kath, you have some experience with this, what say you?"

"My Lord, I would squeeze the cloth and the steel. Wood they can get, men also. I do not know if those lands have iron ore but I do know that pig iron and scrap is floated down the Anduin by the barge-load, perhaps even finished parts. You seem to have found the cloth."

The Prince concluded, "Gentlemen, I will send a letter to the King on tomorrow's ship. Is there anything else?"

~o~

The iron inquiry bore fruit. A monger in Osgiliath had a hard time explaining why steel from north Ithilien arrived in Pelargir crated as roof tiles. Persuasive men arranged introductions to the monger's friends downriver. That happened several times with perfectly respectable merchants until the practice was discouraged. Pirates still got their steel, but not nearly as much.

It was militia time. Nag Kath reported as the rankest trainee. The Sarn't had no idea who he was and the volunteer didn't ask for preferred treatment. A bit old for the first time, they had him report to a cargo ship for sword and spear basics. Predictably, those went well. They also had him shoot the short-range bows for close-quarters as ships came close to bumping. On the second day he brought his Dale bow which got some snickers until he pegged a lantern three ships away.

~o~

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~o~

Dol Amroth is a nice place to spend a winter. Warmer than upriver; it did get howling windstorms from time to time but overall fair. On pleasant days, Nag Kath and Phylless would walk the coastal trail from the point of the war harbor. He would watch the waves smash into the rocks for hours alone and often sketched or painted them. As usual, these were not traditional representations of nature. Most of those were drawn with ships on the surface and lords standing on those. This was the raw violence of power against strength. They were never the same. He gave some of them to the Widows' and Orphans' office to sell for donations. A few brought quite a bit.

After the fury of his life in the north, the pause did wonders for his mind. Phylless was a lamb, warm and solid both. One of the few things he brought with him from Minas Tirith was the little spoon she fed him with. Her hair had started getting white strands. Unlike many women, she did not pluck them out. One was right at the center of her hairline so when she wore it back, it split the sides.

It took a while but Lord Erchirion and his wife came to dinner at their home. They would become fast friends over the years, and not because of obligation. They liked each other. Daughter Yeniel was still unmarried but she started spending several days a week in town at another princely charity office. Nag Kath knew if Tal was here, she would have a handsome fellow bring in contributions regularly. After a few months, one did that on his own.

~o~

In late spring, Cal came back from a longish trip and would be in port for quite a while. He had reached the necessary requisites for higher-office. The man could either remain in active duty on a five-year Captain's track or government service. He could also move into commerce as a ribboned former officer.

Cal chose government service. He had always intended to. In his mind, he had the most wonderful wife in the world and knew she worried terribly when he was in harm's way. She also wanted more children. More immediately, he had been cultivated for the Foreign Service. As aide to an Ambassador, he caught the attention of Minister Youlvissan who still wore the robe. Being married to a Countess with diplomacy in her blood didn't hurt. That and his father's distinguished career suggested a bright future.

Belfalas was still fiercely independent. There wasn't an emissary from the White City here looking over shoulders, not even unofficially. King Elessar trusted Dol Amroth implicitly because they had earned it. The residency in Minas Tirith was the same as other fiefs, provinces and rare national embassies. The King used it for men of Middle-earth to talk and settle differences cordially.

On that track, Cal would be here at least a year learning their own politics. That involved considerable knowledge of trade. Places in the modern world were what they made, sold and bought. You wanted a soldier to spot problems but to deal effectively with others, you had to know what they wanted. Tallazh would have agreed.

The promotion meant moving nearer the citadel. The junior Ivandreds were well off but government service had not given them lordly resources to climb the hill. Phylless noticed when they could not find an even trade for their home and suggested Uncle Nag might help. He did. Eniecia found a home close to theirs which earned them occasional baby-minding duties when the couple needed privacy.

Nag Kath was good for more than a house. It had never been called such but he knew a good deal about relationships between the western powers and was the only one who knew anything about the east. Phylless finally had to decree that dinner conversation could not be more than half politics. That didn't apply to yarns about the Hurms of Mordor or family intrigues in Khand. Those were entertainment too.

Life went on through the mild winter. With iron strangled, more in Pelargir than here, they had fewer problems with the Umbars. A shrinking cut had the Haradrim less inclined give treaty violations with Gondor the blind-eye. The famous corsair Mentieu retired publicly with the wherewithal to repent his wicked ways. The age of war was in decline.

~o~

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~o~