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

39. Chapter 39 Call of the Sea

Chapter 39

Call of the Sea

~o~

Slight spoiler; family trees for the Shurran and Eniecia families are on the last three pages of the appendices here: im gur period com/gallery/jHPlDU8 They include dates of birth and death.

~o~

As with Eniece, losing Phyll meant time to reflect. He needed space between long-love. Nag Kath had his pick of women who would be glad to take up where others left, but this was not an inheritance.

He and Phylless seldom talked about her leaving the circles of the world. She was a confident woman, lived her life and would let the chips fall. The vague lore that Elves who died would be be recreated might not come to pass for creatures such as him. Nag Kath didn't worry either. He did his best with the tools to hand as well.

It was also a period to take inventory of the greater world. Shur and Eniecia were still fit and strong. Nag Kath would embrace them but not cling. Haldiera was ten years older than Eniecia, more mother than sister when they were little. She would complete her life in Buhr Austar. Family in Dale were glad to see him every ten years or so, but now in their fifth generation, he was past influence, as he should be. Great, great grandfathers shouldn't be looking over your shoulder.

What of the Elves? There were still Silvans in the Halls and Lorien. He was interested but never invited. A Nag-Kath grin spread across his face wondering if he should he go to Emyn Vierald after his mourning and woo the lovely Quenda healer? They would attend the Catanard in Dol Amroth and then dance slowly in a club on the fifth before she fell into his arms. No, she had already sailed and could not have been taken from their world any more than Graciel could leave Dale. Presumptuous orcs should know their place! That got another grin.

The Elf had wherewithal. Somehow paying little attention to finances worked. Shurran was 66 and retired from both design and management with son Reyaldar taking the reins in his capable hands. Things in Osgiliath were also in the next generation of control. Both here and Dale had been designed so Nag Kath didn't have to do anything. He would have been a miserable businessman and was never willing to learn. Good men could do that, and they did.

In the world were threats to the King's Peace, threats only he could see. They had behaved, of late. Nag Kath would follow Orlo's hints however far and long they led. Lifeless eyes still stared from the Dead Marshes. Spirits walked the Mournshaws. Only desperate men crossed the Barrow Downs. Orcs prowled the northern wastes. That men in their short lives would not bother with them did not absolve him from duty.

Nag Kath decided he would sharpen his skills with the militias and go to Dol Amroth in the autumn. That went well. Ten years before, the central Gondor command initiated four training sessions of a week each rather than three, partially because of the difficulty of getting the tall city to efficiently drain its warriors out the bottom. Even so, the days were past when a man must serve on the line in combat to advance in any other occupation. They had to train, and shirking that duty could haunt someone thinking of high office, but many lords of commerce would not have their pampered men-children serving in some miserable border swamp just to earn the patch.

Lord Kath never held a line commission or had so much as a batman. He was staff, and no one, from the King down, knew exactly of what. The sense among the few who truly knew him was that you did not hear until he was done. He rode with the Elendil Lancers and taught a session of Slow Swords for men who wanted to feel that craft in their blood. This year he attended all four weeks on Nemren, a stallion now in his seventh year. A wealthy property owner who dealt with Kathen purchased him from the Lossarnach depot for vanity and never properly trained him to ride in line at speed. When the old boy's gout finally defeated his pride, he sold the animal to Nag Kath. A month with trained cavalry really helped the horse understand what he was born to do.

It was time to travel. Other than the coast of Belfalas, Nag Kath had not seen any of great sea. Orlo's coin told him, no, suggested he might find answers south of Harad. There were vast coastal ways in Gondor along the great river mouths and then the Elvish harbors now said to be empty. The way to reach both was Dol Amroth.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Eldarion was forty three but could pass for a clean-shaven thirty. Like his father, he would marry late. Father and son were waiting in the King's office when Lord Kath was introduced. After his bow, both men shook his hand and showed him to the same chairs and low table for favored guests. The King smiled and recalled, "It has been a couple years. I hope you got my letter."

"I did, Sire. Thank you for thinking of her. Phylless will be with me always. And you, gentlemen? I do not suppose you have heard from the ornery Lord Gimli?"

Aragorn smiled through his gray beard and answered, "I got a letter from him only last month. He and Legolas are at the caves again. It must be Legolas' turn under the mountain."

That gave Nag Kath a chance to ask of the Ithilien Elves conversationally, "Matters must be well in hand to the south."

Eldarion did not betray any secrets in saying, "They are gone to the west now, though some returned to the Woodland Realm."

That confirmed Elboron's educated guess. So much for romancing the healer! Nag Kath admitted, "I have not kept track since the business with the pool. My Lords; have there been any more disturbances from the dead?"

Aragorn shook his head before replying, "Nothing definite, but few people go where they tread. It may be well past my time before those lands are attractive. I cannot think what the Easterlings see in them."

Eldarion asked, "What news of Dale? I know you were much of that fair land."

"Still fair, sir. I have two adopted families from Dale. One is now five generations from me. I have not been there in some time. The other family moved here and I am still close to two grandchildren, lo they are elderly with flocks of their own.

"Sire, Lord Eldarion, perhaps you can help me; you said the Elves have left Ithilien. Do you know if they are still in the Grey Havens of Lindon? I thought to travel there, but do not want to trespass."

The Prince answered, "Few if any. The shipwrights have long sailed."

Nag Kath wondered how Legolas would leave. That could wait, "Do your Lordships' vessels ply those routes now? I should think that would be the way to visit Annúminas with the coasts secure."

Aragorn thought long before saying, "Not yet. It may well be a better path, but winds and water are dangerous also, and there are many subjects to honor along the way. Prince Eldarion rode there last year in my stead."

That got the grin, "I am sure you kept your Lord Father's strong pace. By your leave, sirs, I think I will travel to Lindon and learn what I can. After that, perhaps I will explore the coast of Harad. That was a clue from my little sorcerer."

The King said, "Gladly, though neither is of my domain. Give us a full report. Should I see the Lord of the Glittering Caves; we will hoist a tankard to your journeys."

~o~

After the Elf was dismissed, Eldarion stared at his boots for a moment before asking, "Father, he has done yeoman service. Why does mother distrust him still?"

Gazing into space, Aragorn replied, "In Elvish time, he is still too near the peril of old, else I would have said more of Legolas going north. I fear he is a spirit born to wander long years. Nag Kath has been a friend to Gondor at great risk and terrible cost."

The Prince considered that and wondered, "But not a true friend?"

Aragorn looked at his perceptive son. Was that how it appeared? "How so?"

"Forgive me, father. I need to learn the old tools. He seems the last of his kind. You have brought him into your service at need, but not in fellowship. Please tell me when you can."

~o~

Eldarion bowed and left the King with his thoughts. Yes, 'not in fellowship'. Aragorn's friends were invited to Lossarnach or at table to commemorate his coronation, places Arwen would be. He thought of that every day when he passed the portrait of himself and his Lady Queen, frozen in mind of an Uruk-hai on trial for his life.

The King sat alone and considered a use for Nag Kath he dared not even tell his heir. Aragorn could feel time in his bones. Losing Pippin and Faramir weighed on his mind. Only the three Fellows who tracked Nag Kath's Uruk-hai across the plain were left. Legolas might live an age. Gimli could live another hundred years. But the graying King would leave his Arwen a widow within a generation of men, two at best.

She had bound herself to him in mortal life. Would she diminish? Would she succumb in grief? The King would return her gift. He would have her join her people if she still could. Men could not reach the Undying Lands. They sank or sailed in circles where the shore should be now that the Valar had removed Aman from mortal reach. With the great Mariner Elf Lord Cirdan of Lindon gone, Arwen would need one of two remaining Elves capable of taking the 'straight path' to the Undying Lands.

Aragorn watched Nag Kath's eyes when told the last ship had sailed. The changeling was clever, if not subtle. He did not seem disappointed. It was no secret that Legolas intended to sail west, probably after the Fellowship became legend. Of those two Elves; the one with the silly grin had an uncanny knack for finding solutions everyone else stumbled past.

Yes, Nag Kath; explore the Elvish harbors and tell your King the tale.

And yes, my son; the changeling deserves better.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath and his very nervous horse took the Bounteous for Pelargir to visit Phylless and Helien. From there he boarded the blue-water Maiden's Breath to Dol Amroth. It was a miserable trip with storms coming early this year. Of the twelve passengers, six were green, five held their own and one helped the deckhands tack the sails. Nemren was a poor sailor. Nag Kath brought him along with more than his usual kit because this would probably be a long stay. The Elf soothed the poor animal frequently. Two days before making land, the skies cleared and the horse gentled.

At 65, Eniecia still had her great granna Borenne's timeless beauty. Cal was half Dunedain and might last much longer. They had debated selling their large home after their children had children for so long that old Captain Ivandred moved in with them after his dear Durnalath died nine years ago. He was young at one hundred and four, still walking every sunny day tall and strong. Not that anyone bothered counting but Nag Kath was a stripling at eighty-nine.

Caladrion was sixty-eight and now in his sixth year as Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Principality. One would think such things would be managed from Minas Tirith, but the rulers of Dol Amroth thought relations with their neighbors fell in their purview, thank you very much. Their son Field was forty four and daughter Callistra a year behind. Field had two daughters with his wife Grenda. The older girl was Raniece who was twenty and favored her da, not a bad thing for a lass since he had fine features that translated well. She was athletic and enjoyed riding.

The younger girl was Talienne. She was the next Queen Nepthat, albeit it with lighter hair. Now nineteen, she was attracting attention from eligible lads as well. There was no hurry. Like her granna, Talienne, liked books and reading but also rode with her sister and Cal or a sharp-eyed soldier.

Callistra married the estimable Phaeron Libron who had achieved the rank of Lieutenant before joining his father's firm. He also managed the property Eniecia inherited from her parents here in Dol Amroth and banked payments from holdings in Minas Tirith. It was not much work since he had a capable man in their office who actually ran things. Nag Kath liked him.

Callistra had some of Tal's duties as doyen of Dol Amroth and amateur matchmaker, though her raised eyebrow was middling at best. She made up for it with a pleasant smile and charitable disposition. They had two children as well; son Menalgir, Subaltern in the Marines, and daughter Derissa who was thirteen. All four of the grandchildren were considered in the lower end of the top-echelon of marriageable Dol Amroth. They were the direct descendents of King Brand on Eniecia's side and grandchildren of Minister Caladrion, well respected in his own right. He was also cousin to the King of Rohan. Being Thain-kin of the barbarous Buhrs did not count for much more than their relationship to the dubious Uncle Nag.

There was more to that than met the cultured eyes of Dol Amroth. Eniecia and Shurran each came into a hundred Florin from their parents' estate. Their children knew that but the youngsters didn't. Most of Eniecia's legacy was in Minas Tirith property but she got quite a bit of cash and rents which allowed them to support Cal's station. They owned a few local properties too, which Field managed.

Uncle Nag was still popular, even if groats coming out of ears no longer impressed. A large family dinner was organized at the Boar and Hare. There hadn't ever been boars on the rock and hares ate the gardens. At first, everyone was very cautious around the recent widower but he seemed his usual self and old stories flowed. Captain Ivandred was able to walk down by himself though he and Eniecia took a man-cart back up the hill.

The Elf's house was rented after his long absence. Of course, Nag Kath was invited to stay with them but between the couple, Captain and two domestics, it was going to get crowded with a new resident who did not sleep. He looked for a building near the Commercial Harbor that could serve as home and headquarters for his next forays into the unknown.

~o~

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~o~

After two weeks, what had been a business three blocks back from the quayside in New Port was his. Of modest size, the ground floor was like his first home in Dale with one large room, kitchen, privy and spare room for servants. Upstairs was mostly bedrooms but the main room below was open on both floors. He would make the largest space upstairs his library for the books and drawings in their hanging folios. The files in Dale would have to stay there for now.

What sealed the deal was that it was only three blocks from the rare stable where Eniecia kept their horse and in a direct line to her house on other side of the aqueduct. Nemren, glad to be on solid ground, needed better references than Lord Kath. The house set him back five Florin and needed another two for repairs. Phaeron knew just the man for the work.

~o~

Cal had a long sip of the pale Rosuldrië wine and said, "Let me be sure of your intent; you purpose to travel up the coast to the Elvish Grey Havens and explore? And the King has granted you permission?

"Aye, but he does not control. That is still Elvish, even if they are said to be gone. I would not be surprised if there are sorcerous wards guarding the empty places."

Captain Legorn Ivandred observed, "Pretty cruise, but why not just go with the King to Annúminas and ride over from there?"

"I considered that, my friend, but I do not know the coasts at all, and I may need to. I have other trips planned and ought to be a decent sailor."

Cal shrugged, "I suppose we will learn of those the hard way too. I, for one, don't have any trouble with this. There is a handful of captains who go as far as the Brandywine for Halfling leaf and fine iron craft from the Blue Mountain Dwarves. Lindon is not that much further; thought it is a world away in terms of the company one can expect."

His grand-da in-law said, "If you know of a captain who would like to add bright coin to his cargo, I would like a word."

Cal looked at his da and thought out loud, "Two come to mind. They will not go until next season so you have time to prepare."

Captain Ivandred added helpfully, "Wear your hair back when you get there and hope those Elf eyes see your ears before they shoot."

"I will, old friend, though I think the difficulty will be with the sailors learning of their further destination on the water. That; I must leave to the master."

After Nag Kath moved-in and had things the way he wanted, Callistra recommended cook/housekeeper Miss Glynnys to stay the day making breakfast and dinner. A hard-earned forty, she only smiled if she had to. She knew fish.

~o~

The next evening, the Elf walked into the Marlinspike along the Working Harbor, not his usual sort of place. He took a stool at the bar next to a large man with tattoos on his neck and hands. Cal said to ask the barman for a Captain Quaille. A lass of not eighteen was serving so Nag Kath pivoted on his stool and surveyed the room.

The man next to him said, "Just in?"

"No, I'm looking for Quaille."

"Tall fellow with a sliced ear?"

"Never met him. I was told he could help me with cargo."

The fellow put two fingers in his mouth and whistled in the direction of four seamen playing Dukks. They all looked over but continued the hand. After a slapping his poor cards down, one rose and walked behind the bar laying his forearms on the planks. The tattooed man said, "He's looking for Quaille."

The barman looked the pale blonde over closely, "What's that to you, young fellow?"

"I'd like to talk to him about a commission next season. He comes recommended."

"Long time. He'll be working from Pelargir to Osgiliath until the melts."

"It will wait."

The barman ran a business and said, "If he shows, I'll see if I can remember to tell him."

That produced a silver and a card. As Nag Kath finished his ale he said, "Part of that includes another mug for my friend, here." The tattooed man grinned broadly and tinked his fingernail against the empty.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The map Middle-earth or several of the original LOTR maps will help with this chapter.

Nag Kath used his time to learn water. He bought a sailboat meant for two but could be managed by one in fair seas. Mostly he sailed around the White Harbor catching fish and drawing the island from a distance. When the swells were calm, he took the Wintern around the point trying to hook one of the prized yellow Odar. The third time he took someone who knew what he was doing.

There were things to do in town too. Uncle Nag chaperoned his young females at musical shows, plays and other wholesome entertainment. Sometimes those became less prim when he was coaxed out of his endless supply of stories. They always thought them fantasy because how could such things happen in the world? Seeing the troll head stabilizing the jetty in Pelargir visiting Uncle Shurran sowed seeds of doubt.

Callistra managed to find a few older females to accompany them. Nag Kath was polite, but not ready. It was too soon after Phyll and he had two trips in mind that might take years to complete, if he survived. Most days, the Elf hiked up to Cal's to walk the flatter streets with Captain Ivandred. Eniecia came with them more than not. Cal worked long hours at the citadel so he got his exercise too.

~o~

In early May, Glynnys answered a knock to reveal a tall, dark man in an oil slicker on the porch. He showed her Nag Kath's card. Since he was expected around now, she showed him in and asked if he wanted tea. In unexpectedly cordial tones he said that would serve.

Quaille waited half a bell until the Elf returned from exploring the healer's district. No one seemed to have replaced the powerful Mrs. Hürna. The Captain stood and the two shook hands. Using a prearranged sign, Glynnys remembered shopping and said she would be back about lunch. Nag Kath motioned for the Captain to retake his seat and helped himself to a mug of tea from the kettle.

Without preamble, Quaille said, "Marstairs said you're looking to haul cargo."

"Aye, nothing heavy. I was told you know the north."

"I'm from the Gwatlho estuary. How heavy?"

"Just me. I need to go to the Gulf of Lhün, might be there a week."

Quaille did his sums. That was less than a week's travel from the Brandywine with the winds of the season, but that was a large harbor and he did not know it. No one did. Elves were said gone, so why bother since there was nothing to trade? Folk who had tried were repulsed by Elf wards. He had a sip and asked, "Just you?"

"And anything you want to get on the way back. That is your business. Tell me of your ship."

"An older harrier, built more for speed than hauling grain down the Anduin. Crew of fifteen. That's me, First and Second Mates, the rest on deck and a boy." The Captain had another sip of tea and added, "I don't suppose you know those waters? Elves have not been welcoming. Forgive me but you look a bit green for sail and hard harbors."

Nag Kath pushed his hair behind his ear saying, "I might be able to convince them, if there are any left."

Quaille leaned back on the couch and asked, "Did you miss your ship? The Blue Dwarves haven't seen a swan leave in sixty years."

"Different family. I'll be coming back with you. There might be things there I can use. It is your business but we'll need a stable crew."

The Captain wouldn't mind a look at those ports. If he had an Elf who spoke their tongue and could get them past the sorcery, there might be things lying about that folk with fine tastes would appreciate here. It was time to ask, "Now, we are looking at an extra month out past the Brandywine berthage. I figure that runs to three Florin, making up what we don't carry north."

Nag Kath knew they wouldn't take much of anything up. Ships got things there; wheat from the treacherous Gwathlö, Dunish barley from the Isen, Dwarvish and northern things from the Brandywine. Quaille would know he knew so Nag Kath said, "Two, in gold. Half here, half when we get back. Throw in another nipper if your crew needs convincing after we turn north from the Shire."

"Done and done. We leave in three days. A good faith deposit is customary."

Nag Kath pulled two nippers from his pocket and handed them to the mariner saying, "I will see you then, Captain Quaille."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The First Wife eased her way out of the slip and into the outgoing channel of the White Harbor. First mate Forunhir smiled and was friendly but the rest of the crew avoided looking the Elf eye-to-eye. As he would learn later; taking a greenbottom on a long voyage was considered bad luck, not as bad as a woman, of course, but they thought it risked the displeasure of Ulmo and his servants. Nag Kath reckoned he was strange enough on his own merits. It would not take long to show he had his uses.

The ship kept well away from the silt-deltas of the Ringlo and made for the rocky point off Lond Cobas. In these gentle waters with enough breeze against to tack, they could keep moving at night by timing the turns. Like most small ships, deckhands dropped several lines with baited hooks of different sizes, held well underwater by small stones. When the men weren't working sail or rigging, one would pull the lines in on a cranked wheel to check for dinner. After several reels of stolen bait, they got two fair-sized red Odar and a pail of silver tullars.

Nag Kath made another friend almost immediately when he gave the galley cook a supply of spices and herbs. They weren't anything they couldn't have bought in the market but sailors weren't used to such amenities. Only a day or two out, the ship still had stores of vegetables and fruit. Meals would be reduced to hard biscuits and dried fish if the fresh ones weren't biting. The Elf had a supply of Lembas stored in his cabin.

The First Wife had been organized a bit differently than a pure cargo run. Men slept in both the hammock room and in the hold. Sailing at night meant men slept, or tried to, all hours of the day. Quaille and Fornuhir showed Nag Kath how to steer by the stars and were helped by his vision. On cloudy nights, the crew knew to stay well away from the jagged shoreline.

After five uneventful days, they rounded the headlands to the Lefnui River mouth. It was a powerful river behind a ridge of north/south mountains that kept water from reaching the western coast. The thin harbor stretched fully a day in if needed. The outermost village was Feren Town. It had ale and meat if you had money.

~o~

The crew was getting used to the tall blonde man. He had clearly sailed before and could get up the rigging in a hurry. Nag Kath was not used to the large, triangular sails which had to be rolled and released depending on the wind or that the booms could sweep a careless man overboard. Four days after Feren they reached the tip of Gondor, the point of Andrast where the Pukel-men dwelt. Nag Kath kept that story to himself. Sailors are a superstitious bunch and dealings with the curious woodland creatures might be better told after they were well away from those shores.

Captain Quaille sailed half a day past the rocky outcropping before turning due north for the western river harbors. There would be little to eat on land. They caught enough fish not to eat the dried meat but the little towns along the windward side of the Andrast Boot would not harvest the first summer vegetables for another month. The crew made the turn into the Bay of Lond Angren supplied by the raging Isen ready for a meal and an ale.

Quaille stayed an extra day to provision and repair a rip in the front sail needing removal. Navigating came first but in lulls, all hands had specialties like sewing sails, rope making or splicing, woodwork and preparing meals. Nag Kath took his liberty to explore the town itself. This was the first natural harbor of the Great Belegaer Sea above Belfalas and the first river bringing goods from the heartland. It was too rough for larger barges but too convenient to ignore. Ships took more than they left. Being the slack season before the grain arrived, townsmen were glad of coppers from the few crews docked at the wharf.

The mouth of the Gwathlo was only two days north and would have been sooner but for tricky winds. They had no reason to go, but Nag Kath arranged for the ship to dock so he could get a look at the wharves. This was just a funnel for the vast flows coming from Eriador, the sort that covered Tharbad every so often. The passenger told them of the homes on pilings that rose like docks. Quaille allowed the men a good night's sleep after the strong barley drinks of Cardolan and they made their way back up the coast to the port of Annon Baran on the Brandywine.

This was a less violent river than the Gwathlo below. If flowed from the King's own Annúminas through the Shire and then meandered to a fair harbor protected from the strong northern swells. To the northwest was the Dwarvish enclave of the Blue Mountains. Erebor claimed lordship but that did not carry much water with the local longbeards. Their metal-crafts made their way to Southern Gondor by way of traders like Quaille. The Elf financed a purchase of fine iron and steel goods to be collected on their way back.

The crew knew it was not quite Halfling Leaf season so it was time to tell them why they were here. The Captain called all hands on deck and stood two steps on the stern-castle. In his master's-voice, "We are taking Mr. Kath into the Elvish bay. We are not expecting any trouble. He thinks we may be there a week but maybe more depending on what he finds. You will all receive at least two extra silvers. If anyone has something to say, say it now."

Bosun Thwaindil ventured, "Big place, Capt'n"

Quaille responded, "The Grey Havens, all the way in. We may stop at or near Harlond for water. The wind will be at our backs inward, in our faces coming back.

"Dildrans, Uvioras, keep the ballista close but not on the mounts. This is a friendly visit."

Seaman Geriandloth said somewhat tersely, "Friendly? Those Elves ain't known for laying out the viands."

Nag Kath offered support, "I can speak to them. All of the great ships left years ago. If there are any Elves, they are not trying to leave. Everyone stays quiet but don't smile, they don't appreciate smiling. Watch for Dwarves on the south bank. I get along tolerably well with them too."

Captain Quaille called, "Tide goes out two hours after dawn. Look sharp."

Slightly into the wind from the west it took eight more days to round the Point of Harlindon into the Gulf of Lhún. Quaille did that at first light so the ship would not be silhouetted by the setting sun. There were no vessels in sight or anything interesting along the south bank. The north bank was twenty leagues away.

~o~

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~o~

This was a purer natural harbor than even Dol Amroth, ripped from Beleriand in the wrath of Numenor. Strong sea swells would not penetrate far. For the first time on the trip, a light breeze was with them. The First Wife turned the bay leading to the Elvish town of Harlond and they set anchor several hundred paces off the old docks, not wanting to trespass if anyone in the grand old buildings took offense. A few figures did wander out to gawk. Nag Kath could see them clearly. They were men, no, there were Dwarves among them too, definitely not Elves. Their Elf told the crew to wave. Townsmen waved back and left a couple lads to watch. They had plenty of water in the casks and food enough not to make land so the next morning they continued east towards the Lhún river mouth.

That was as far as Seaman Bellandir and his brother Bellandath would go. They kept quiet when told of the trip but telling was not doing. This was an ominous place of the great and terrible. As agreed, they both took short-swords from the rack and tried to corner Nag Kath on the stern-castle.

Mate Forunhir yelled, "Stand down, you fools!"

Bellandath shouted back, "Nay, mate! This pretty thing isn't getting us dead!" The two men closed on the seemingly unconcerned blonde greenbottom. Quaille heard the ruckus and stormed up from below hollering, "Bellandir! Stop now!"

Without turning his gaze from Nag Kath the sailor shouted, "Stay out of this. We did not sign-on for fell harbors."

As the two crept forward, the cornered Elf lifted his hand. Bellandath was thrown off the deck and suspended in mid-air, head-down over the water.

"Augahhhhh! Ngh! Brother, help me!"

The Elf told his brother, "Throw that weapon over the side."

Bellandir did. With amazing calm, the crew heard the Elf say, "Do I drop him or bring him back? Choose quickly."

"Aughhhh!"

When his brother didn't say anything, Nag Kath gave Bellandrath a refreshing dip in the bay.

"Bring him back, for pity's sake!"

In his Elf-Lord voice, "Do you understand there is nothing out there worse than me?"

"Yes, yes! Please, give my brother back."

Bellandrath was gently deposited on deck sputtering and trying to blow the seawater out of his nose. Nag Kath glanced at the faces staring at him and went back to checking the fish reels on the transom.

~o~

That evening, Seaman Pellig, who had scarcely uttered a word to the Elf the whole way, said softly, "That was you slew the trolls in Pelargir. My grand-da was in the Marine Reserve stranded on the Eärnil side of the bridge."

"Aye, just one of them, though. Someone chipped my sword out of his forehead, same sword I carry now."

Pellig said to the night, "That's the half head on the jetty. My brothers said it would get me if I didn't mind them."

The rest of the men were trying not to breathe. Nag Kath thought a moment and smiled, "They didn't need to put it face out. I think that was the end of trolls in the west."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Mithlond, the Elvish Grey Havens, was still another fifty leagues from Harlond. The fair breeze held and some unknown but delicious fish took to the bait trailing the stern. Quaille brought in most of the sail so they drifted into the circular cove almost completely surrounded by inspiring buildings of the Elvish second age.

There was nothing like this left in Middle-earth. The other great Elvish cities had been destroyed thousands of years ago in wars with Morgoth, Sauron or themselves. Rivendell had similar lines but was more natural, having been built into the mountain. Lorien had very little stone work, relying on the Mallorn trees for its magnificent scale. Perhaps the closest was Annúminas but with more angular, mannish lines. As the sailors were staring, Nag Kath edged quietly next to Bellandrath and said, "Are you fine?"

The man startled but did not move. He and his brother could have been cast overboard by the Captain for their attack and would certainly do the dirtiest jobs in penance. But they were alive. "Cleaned my nose out good and proper."

"No sudden movements in view of shore, mind?"

Bellandrath nodded.

Quaille had never once shown a trace of nerves. He piloted the ship inside the narrow gap of the harbor and stayed to the middle. Nag Kath shimmied up the center mast for a better look. The buildings were all so grand! It was hard to tell where the headquarters might have been. He decided on what could only be the shipwright's ways. That was conveniently on the western side of the bay so the ship could get away from the wharf with wind. They docked on the stone jetty after setting the heavy, cloth bumpers. Men with long poles could cast off and push away fast.

Only Nag Kath disembarked. He went to a large open door and peered inside. With nothing to see he called in Sindarin, "Good day!" The furniture was still there but nothing else. By prearranged signal, Cabin-boy Athmandal was called to follow. He was a brave, curious lad, perfect for errands that did not involve brute force.

They slowly picked their way along the first level of doors, barely above high tide. None showed any sign of writings, or much else. Nag Kath got the sense that men had helped themselves to everything the Elves didn't take, somehow slipping past the dying wards of power.

Looking up, there was a balcony on the second floor of the next building that was where Nag Kath would put his office if he was a Elvish shipmaster. He nodded upwards to Athmandal and they climbed the stone stairs. This room had been looted too, judging by the papers strewn around until rain stuck them to the floor. They were notes in Sindarin, lists of parts and sizes, and not in an elegant hand, either. These were written by workers on a schedule.

Nag Kath was not really sure what he was looking for. This might take a while. The Elf and lad prowled the city for two days while the men nervously fished, repaired and made sure they could leave on the shortest of notice. Against the off-chance there was a safe or hidden door, Nag Kath sketched Elrond's storage locker so Athmandal could keep his eyes open. The lad was downstairs scouring a palatial gathering room while the Elf rummaged upstairs.

~o~

"Orc Six. Fancy meeting you here."

How could they be so silent! "It is Mr. Norgarn, isn't it? How nice to see you again."

"Hughmmmpf. Are you looking for something?"

"I am at a loss for what. Shipbuilding and navigational charts, I suppose. Are you here alone, Mr. Norgarn?"

"With my wife and bairn. They are keeping out of sight. Your men are strange to them."

Nag Kath asked, "Can they see you?"

"Of course, why else would we need to stay out of sight?"

"Forgive me. It seems others have been here first."

The Elf-keeper said, "Hughmmmpf, ten years ago, men came in a ship. They did not find much."

"Mr. Norgarn I have been looking for a safe like Lord Elrond's, something hidden in the panels."

"You are close. Come with me."

As they walked downstairs past the ogling lad, Nag Kath jerked his head for him to follow. Two buildings further around the circle the keeper took them up two flights of stairs to another office. The papers scattered on this floor were drawings of beams and ship-ribs, measured in the twelve-count of old Elvish.

Keeper Norgarn looked at the boy and asked in the common-speech, "Who are you?!"

"Athmandal, if it pleases you, sir."

"Hughmmmmph."

Nag Kath was busy looking at the interior panels behind what would have been a drawing table. The seams revealed nothing. Neither did the carved stone frames. There was a cleft in the rock below it, though. He asked, "Mr. Norgarn, I don't suppose you have a key?"

"No."

"Any idea how I get this open?"

"No."

If this was the same kind of stone as in Annúminas, it would take more than a couple Rohirrim with Dwarf sledges. "Mr. Norgarn, do you know what is in there?"

"Never looked." All this was in Sindarin so the lad just watched.

The Elf ran his fingers round the trim of one panel a few times and put his hands on his hips. Then he turned to Athmandal and asked, "Have you seen a big iron key in the last few days?"

The lad shifted his eyes across the room where a ring was hanging in plain sight above the fireplace. The gnome chortled and gave the cabin-boy one of his grimace-smiles before saying to himself in Sindarin, "Orcs!"

The fourth key of the five clicked. Inside hinges were rusted tight but the door budged enough to wedge a candle-stand in the crease and pry it open. The Elves must have taken the contents. There was one book in the back stuck to the stone that had not come with whatever had been removed. Nag Kath borrowed Athmandal's deck knife and slid it under the back cover until it grudgingly peeled up.

It was a bound volume, perhaps a eighteen inches square with drawings of different ships and their component fittings. In the back was a folded drawing of Varda, Ainu of the stars, casting her hand to the heavens. Below her, Ulmo of the sea waited patiently, holding his hand in aid. Nag Kath would worry about that later and said to the Elf-keeper, "I know your policy but can I take this?"

"Certainly. That is not in our charge."

"What is in your charge, Mr. Norgarn?"

"Other things. Will you be staying, Orc Six?"

"For dinner, providing you and the excellent Mrs. Norgarn have good stories and are willing to tolerate mine."

"On the walk across from your ship, 'timeless' is written over the door. I am afraid your fellows cannot join us."

Nag Kath and Athmandal took their treasure back to the Elf's cabin. There were no caveats against telling the crew about their curious host so the lad held court over the tasty silver fish of the harbor while the Elf took his meal with the keepers. They had arrived after Cirdan left and did not know anything about the shipbuilding here. Upon request, son Gimlach told the tale of Lúthien and Beren very well. Born in the late second age, neither of the older keepers met the doomed lovers.

~o~

As much as Nag Kath would like to have explored every stone in the Grey Havens; this was not the time to test the patience of the crew, especially after Athmandal entertained them with reports of gnomes in stockings appearing from thin air. The Elf could return with the King someday to Annúminas and take his First Wife had to wait in port on the Brandywine for eleven days until suitable leaf arrived. A few crates were as much as anyone got at one time so that and the Dwarvish ironworks would serve and might have even turned a profit without the Elf's bonus. Getting home was much easier than getting here since the wind was usually no worse than abeam.

Save a thorough wetting with a summer squall, they made good time and reached Dol Amroth in late August. Nag Kath gave Quaille four extra nippers for the crew bonus and future 'consulting' work before the man set sail for Pelargir to complete that end of the run. Before they docked Nag Kath thought he had what he needed to proceed. Against that possibility, he retained Athmandal as his next Brenen. The lad got the spare room, the first time he had ever had a room. He got clothes too.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

It was time to talk with his seafaring experts. After dinner, Cal, Legorn and the Elf commandeered the dining table. Nag Kath unrolled sheets of paper and put the hefty book on the table. They looked through the plans very closely for better than half a bell. Legorn finally glanced at his son, "I should imagine your friends in the Naval Ministry would like a look at these."

Cal asked gently, "These are Elvish designs?"

"Fresh from Cirdan's safe."

"Da's dead right. I think we should speak to Minister Suvien first thing tomorrow, that is, if you mean this to be shared, Nag."

"I need it shared …" he grinned "… thinly."

"Mind sharing why?"

"I plan to build or buy one of these to sail to the Black Numenoreans in the fabled lands where the man of Mardruak went. That is my last clue from the Sorcerer of Rhûn. I'll need the ship, crew, goods, information, all of it."

Both sailors moved their lips in silence. They were used to bolts from the blue with their curious relative. He would have excellent reasons known only to himself. Legorn managed, "Have you a captain in mind?"

The changeling replied, "That's why I'm telling you. You know them better than me. I am in no hurry. I don't see sailing until next spring at the earliest. Cal, what kind of ship do I need?"

His grandson in-law thought a moment and said, "Nothing heavy … I should think something like you took to Elvish waters. You will need speed over all else, but don't get caught in dock or pinned against the shore.

Cal looked at his da again and back at Uncle Nag, "Does someone in Minas Tirith know about this?"

"Let us just say information is always appreciated." It could have sounded trite except he used the Elf-Lord voice.

Legorn was fascinated but kept quiet. Cal nodded slowly and said, "Walk up with me at the eight-bell."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Minister Suvien was ten years younger than Caladrion. They had known each thirty years. Cal knew he would be in early today so he walked up to Suvien's secretary and said, "Good morning, Wikelien. We need a word with the Minister."

Wikelien knew the Minister of Foreign Affairs would not be here unless it was important. He rose, gave the tall blonde man a quick look and said, "Just a moment sir." Very shortly after, the clerk walked out of the office door and said, "He is waiting, gentlemen."

Suvien, like Cal, was a former Marine but he accepted a Captaincy with the navy when the big artillery platform ships were new. He rose from there and knew as much about the defense of Belfalas as any man alive. When his guests walked in, the fellow stood and shook hands. He had seen Cal only two days before but this was obviously something new.

Caladrion said, "Thank you for taking time. We won't be long. Elkard, this is Nag Kath. He has some pictures he would like to show you."

The Minister waved them to a small table and Nag Kath unfurled his collection. Suvien went through every page in complete silence, only twice picking his head up to look at his guests. He could make no sense of the Sindarin notes or numbers but knew this was important. Nearly half a bell later, he folded his half-spectacles into a vest pocket and asked, "Are these what I think they are?"

Nag Kath answered , "Plans for Elvish Lhün fleet. I believe the largest two are swan ships for the trip to Aman."

Minister Suvien spent another ten minutes looking at those two again. Finally he said, "Mr. Kath, this is extraordinary. What is your fee for providing these to his Highness' government?"

Perhaps the changeling wasn't as well-known as he thought. Cal was a bit surprised Suvien hadn't heard of Kath of the name-your-place as well. Suvien would squeeze the purse with both hands in exchange for those two capital ship plans. With his worst grin, Nag Kath bargained hard, "I was thinking of four tickets to 'The Reason We Try'."

Not sure of his hearing, Suvien asked, "A Catanard?!"

"Oh, not just a Catanard. I understand Mehfiel himself is going to play Festous."

Cal had to say something before he laughed out of his nose. "Elkard, Lord Kath does this for love of country."

That still didn't remove all of the shock. The Elf added, "I will redraw these to scale, translate the Elvish and change the measurements to our count. Elves use twelve rather than ten building their numbers."

"Lord Kath? Troll Kath?"

"The same. Now, if you have a man who is good with design, I could use a hand on the renderings to free me for the calculations. I will try to get them to you in two weeks. Would that be satisfactory?"

Suvien breathed, "Quite. Cal, Lord Kath, thank you for coming by. I will be in touch." Just like after hoodwinking the Sindarin library in Cal's youth, they waited until they were well down the hall before laughter reigned.

~o~

The Elf returned with a red Odar for dinner to see a gentleman waiting in the main room. Fortunately, Athmandal knew guests did not need to be watched for light fingers. Where the lad was from, you paid attention.

Nag Kath waved off a handshake until after he could wash the fish off his hands and introduced himself. In return he heard, "Good morning, Lord Kath. I am Edelman Turembad. I work with Minister Suvein."

"Ah yes. I see you have tea. Please, come sit here at the large table while I get the book." The Elf sat beside him and slowly turned the pages saying, "I have some larger ones we found on the floor but this will give you a sense of the design. Are you an expert in ship-wrighting?"

"Expert might be generous, but I've learned a thing or two. Lately I worked on a new harrier we will use off-Anduin to support our transport vessels."

Nag Kath offered, "I am an engineer as well and offered to copy these for Prince and King. If you can do some of that work, it frees me to translate the notes. Some of these were not drawn to scale. I changed the Elvish counting to ours alongside in pencil."

The engineer nodded slowly and said, "Yes, I can do that. So I do not interfere with your household; I can make the drawings and return every few days for you to complete them." Nag Kath sliced the binding thread to remove the smaller two ships for himself. The government man took half of the newly-bought paper and most of the volume with the intention of comparing their work in three days.

~o~

After he was gone, Athmandal asked, "You're a Lord, sir?"

"Aye, a couple times over. I am nearly a hundred now with plenty of stories to while cold nights. What do you know about building ships?"

"Some. When you look to crew at sea, you ask at the docks. Men are always working on their craft. The better keel and rib wood comes from the Ringló. Plank wood is better up the Anduin. Pelargir makes most of the metal bits."

Lord Kath said, "I want you to keep your eyes on building. We need a ship."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The trip north was a test for exploration to the south, below the dry sands of Near Harad. There were said to be strange lands, too strange for a merchantman to justify such a long trip and of no interest to the Lords of Gondor. That left Nag Kath and his invitation from Orlo. He learned going north that the master commands. Nag Kath knew more than your average farmer but the pilot of the ship made the rules on his vessel including who went and how they got there.

First came the ship. Turembad returned with excellent work. He had a good eye. Nag Kath showed him perspective at different angles so men could see above and side renderings in a single sketch. That alone was worth the engineer's time. The man worked on new drawings at the main table while Nag Kath added Westron notes and calculations to the homework. Most pages showed how a beam was spliced into a joint or other details needing no explanation. After a few hours, they thought two more sessions was time enough to complete the drafts.

Nag Kath dropped the hammer as Turembad was leaving, "Lieutenant, I would like a look at your new ship, give me a feel for our work here."

Those vessels would be built by a trusted wright away from prying eyes, but for the Lord who shared his trove for opera tickets, Turembad saw no difficulty. As he slipped the paperwork into a large folio the man said, "I am going there now."

The Elf gave Athmandal a wink that he was going alone and followed the young officer to the far end of the War Harbor. The gate Sarn't stood at attention and never questioned Turenbad's guest. In the ways on the dry dock, a keel had been laid of bent and pinned strips of hardwood glued together with pitch and wrapped in rope to hold the lamination. Men off to one side were boiling pieces for ribs that would rest like wishbones along the spine.

~o~

Nearer the water was the same type of vessel being planked with smooth seams rather than the overlap of most cargo-craft. Once a plank was secured, men would caulk and pitch any gaps between the boards. They would construct the different compartments in the hold before adding the deck.

It was a Dwarvish racket of men pounding, yelling, cursing and stinking with supervisors walking about making changes or reminding the lads they were being paid. A few puffed fine paper tubes with the superb new pipe-weed newly arrived in the city.

Leaving, the two stopped in the office. They were making government-contracted ships but the yard was the respected and private Stieffild and Yarlundar Shipwrights. Mr. Stieffild Junior, the oldest Stieffild living, was sitting behind a desk with a pipe of his own. Turembad introduced them. Old Junior was sixty if he was a day and had the skin of a Mûmikil from long years on sea or in the yard. His hands were as rough with two fingers missing on his right hand. Walking around the desk to shake hands he had a noticeable limp too, so his days on the water were long over. He was a very successful man. Nag Kath would buy him wine later.

The Lieutenant's office was only two buildings over so the two engineers parted with plans to meet in four more days. Nag Kath went home to write a letter in Sindarin;

Dear High King Elessar Telcontar,

I hope this letter finds you and your family in good health. The trip to the Grey Havens yielded a number of ship plans locked away in a vault much like in Rivendell. Those are being copied now by an officer in the Prince's service

The city is deserted. An Elf-keeper told me a ship of men had looted what little was there ten years ago, though I did feel faint wards – that suggests the Eldar may still slip in and out, though I am not sure. Mithlond is still a grand place. If your Lordship has designs that way, no one will stop you. We did see a few Dwarves in Harlond. Your contacts may know more of them from trading on the Brandywine.

I may stay here or abroad some time but am always at your service. NK

Researching his trip meant Scholars. They were as haughty and proud as in Minas Tirith, with good reason. Archives here were treated deferentially, usually in private hands. With his resources, Nag Kath received introductions to collectors of the city. He sought information about the peoples south of the Southrons. He thought them 'Black Numenoreans'. That wasn't a color. These were exiles of the doomed island who retained their allegiance to Sauron. Dol Amroth was held by those Faithful to the Valar driving the Evil survivors further south as they became the Umbar and other clans. Long were they powerful enemies of northern men.

Cal had Ulvant Kastagorm for wine to introduce his vaguely-explained relative. Kastagorm was a celebrated collector of classic writings and a fair hand with Sindarin. He was no fool either. Nag Kath explained he wanted to know about the races inland and south of the desert Southrons. Kastagorm spoke in lecturer's tones, "There is what I know, which is probably wrong, and there is what I think, which is also probably wrong. I will give you both.

"Legend has those lands settled by adherents of Ar-Pharazôn who was seduced by Sauron in Elf form. Known as the Kings-men, they settled here but lost in long, bloody combat to the Faithful of Ilúvatar. Driven across the river, they were the power behind Umbar, building cities like in the north which are said to survive to some extent even now. Eventually their society collapsed and Umbar was overrun by Swerting wildmen who live there still.

"My own thoughts are that the Black Folk survived further south, below the dusty inland where, is said, green forests grow again. Many years ago, a traveler of the Anduin sailed down there and came back with fantastic stories of beasts and colored birds and fruits that grow in all seasons. The Captain would have been accounted a hair-brain, but he brought back many unique things crafted in as fair a hand as ever made here and lived royally to a ripe old age."

Nag Kath said, "I have heard that story from two other men, each in very different stations. Sir, should these King's-Men still be there, what language would they likely speak?"

That was a perceptive question from the young adventurer. Kastagorm considered it carefully and replied, "I speculate here. They would have originally spoken Adûnaic but likely changed to Sindarin before the sundering." The Scholar in him came out, "Sindarin is a hard tongue, young man."

"I read and speak it, along with some Quenya. I have read Adûniac but can't claim to understand it very well. I also have good Variag, some Rhûnic and Plainstongue. He left Black Speech and wargish out.

Kastagorm cried, "That calls for another goblet of Cal's excellent pale! Young man, we shall get along famously!" The changeling noticed he was beginning to feel self-conscious when mistaken for a young man. Early in life he was much younger than he looked. With Phylless he was as old as her. Now he felt of no real age. Looking at him no one would know.

Nag Kath came to the next monthly meeting of wealthy collectors and Scholars of the old days. There were eight this afternoon, mostly the cream of the Dunedain so their association with the stout, bald Kastagorm showed he was a force in the making sense of their past. The past mattered a great deal here.

Nag Kath suggested that his purpose should not be widely known. Kastagorm would be discreet, opening with, "Gentlemen, this is Nag Kath who I have invited because he is interested in ancient peoples down the coast of Harad. Please welcome him and share your thoughts."

Acknowledgement ranged from smiles to indifference. He was a handsome specimen of fine bloodlines which counted for something. He also listened and drank lightly; something young people seldom did anymore. Despite a few doomed attempts by Kastagorm to steer the conversation south, the dominant topic was the works of Inbraien, largely confined to ten years on either side of Third Age 1566. Halfers! Nag Kath had never heard of the man but paid attention. He was immortal. He had time.

~o~

Another man who said little was Scholar Opher who had a bit more eastern blood than the pale greater-men in the room. Like Tallazh, there was no trace of it in his Westron. Nag Kath would ask him an innocent question when they adjourned.

The Elf shook hands with those who didn't flee for the door. As Opher gathered his notes off the table, he was approached and thanked for his courtesy. The Scholar smiled and said it was a pleasure. As if an afterthought, Nag Kath said, "Oh, I should have asked. I would like my servant to learn reading. Can you recommend a tutor? I live above the Commercial Harbor if that matters."

"I think so, Mr. Kath. Do you have a card?"

Nag Kath gave him one of several, this one with his address but no title. Opher considered it and said, "You have a fair hand, sir, more elegant than a purely western script." The man raised the pitch of the last word, making it almost a question.

"That, sir, is a long story. Perhaps you will share a meal with me to justify your time."

"Gladly. I will be in touch."

~o~

In the meantime, Lieutenant Turembad returned with the rest of the renderings. Nag Kath translated the notes into the common-speech and finished the calculations turning the Elvish twelve count into the mortal ten. He would let the administration sort through those and before speaking with the shipwright.

It took another week but the Elf received a note inviting him to dinner at Mr. Opher's home three days hence along with the name of a tutor who lived nearby. Nag Kath had Athmandal, which everyone shortened to Dal, take his acceptance up to the scholar's house so he could explain where it was. Then Dal was to report to Tutor Fulgreave's lodgings with a silver for a course in reading and writing.

Fulgreave only taught at his home. Athmandal would have to go there for two hours, three times a week to study with considerably younger students. He could have been embarrassed but his ability to tell rollicking tales of the seas more than compensated for late-life learning. New clothes and no visible tattoos helped.

Opher had done well for himself. Teaching obscure subjects to disaffected youth had not built this home. A liveried servant showed him to a private office where the amateur scholar was seated on the couch. Opher looked up and said, "Ah, right on time. Please, join me."

Nag Kath sat in the tallest chair while Opher wrote something in his notebook and set it aside. "Thank you for coming. Kastagorm was unusually remiss in your history, young sir."

There would be no evading this man other than walking out the way he came, and Nag Kath needed friends. "By design sir. I am the last Elvish sorcerer in Middle-earth. My care has been destroying the remnants of Sauron's allies."

"So, Kath of the Water and Trolls?"

"You are well informed, sir."

Opher opened his notebook to show a small symbol of Orlo inked on the inside cover. "And Kath of the Nûrnen too?"

The Elf started quietly, "I met Orlo during Gelansor in the year 30. He gave me the key to discovering the trolls."

Opher was still as the grave. Nag Kath continued. "The sorcerer left me this coin which took me years to find. It survives from what is now Gondor as the King's-men were pushed south to where is rumored a great gulf lies south of the sands.

"I purpose to travel there, but would rather sail into as few surprises as possible."

The Scholar said, "Then I may be of some service. Come, let us dine. My family knows little of my outside interests. For tonight you are a distinguished student of …"

"Khandian?"

"On the tip of my tongue."

Opher might be fifty. His wife was definitely of western bloods. His son and daughter were introduced but had plans to dine with neighbors, probably no accident; that. Unwhieila, shortened to Eila at birth, was well on her way to matronly proportions with a nice smile and intelligent eyes. During the meal she asked a pair of questions Opher had planted earlier. Her husband now knew the answers and turned the subjects back to current events.

Nag Kath was not as forgotten as he thought. He would have to get his host's background another time. All in all, he felt his team was falling into place.

~o~

A few days later, a courier brought an envelope and dashed off when it left his hand. Six seats near the Prince's box had been reserved in his name for the entire upcoming Catanard season at the pavilion. The grin! He had been jesting to let Minister Suvein know he did not need payment for his duty. The man now knew that, but good deeds are rewarded by noble Lords nonetheless.

Now, he had to put backsides in those seats for the five performances. Divided in mannish, Elvish or Khandian counting, six means three couples and he was loudly alone. Eniecia hinted her daughter Callistra was a worthy successor to Talereth in meddling and matchmaking, as an amateur, of course. Now the woman would be up late conniving to introduce suitable females. Nag Kath would not protest overmuch.

At dinner the next night, Cal slapped his knee extending the laugh leaving Suvien's office. The tragedy 'As Father Wished" was playing in four nights so Captain Ivandred deputized as Nag Kath's date. Cal and Eniecia had the middle places on the bench. Callistra and her husband Phaeron would get last two and only increase the pressure to produce a fashionable widow by 'The Reason We Try'.

Other projects unfolded. Athmandal was progressing in his reading but told by his teacher privately that his sea lore was too salty for the privileged ears in the room. Nag Kath wasn't sure what to do with him so Dal had lots of time to practice his lessons. Opher was also in touch. They spent several hours going over the darkness known and supposed of the Black Numenoreans. A bad lot, but, as the Uruk could attest; sometimes the chief made the wrong choice and everyone else paid the price. At least he could talk to them.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Militia season was nigh. Nag Kath applied for and was quickly moved to the top of the list for training on the new harrier-class support ships. It was slightly longer and thinner than the First Wife but the same ilk. These craft did not have boarding ramps or extended prows for ramming enemies below the waterline. They were fast, used only wind and were not for hauling seasick soldiers to and from land attacks. In the right situation, they drove pirates towards the artillery vessels or kept them from escaping. He was one of twenty-three militia crew, not including the Captain/Pilot with First and Second Officers.

Having done some of the chores going to the Grey Havens, Nag Kath wasn't a complete greenbottom. Acting First Officer Fendirand didn't like him. First Officer was a necessary step for ambitious sailors. From there you made Captain on this size vessel and might be promoted to First Officer on a capital ship, the next stage before full Captaincy. Loafing rich-boys jeopardized those chances. The tall blonde bypassed stronger candidates when someone in the palace pulled strings. Even obeying dutifully and keeping his mouth shut, it was bound to happen;

"Kath, why is that rope not coiled?"

"I was told to wind the winch, sir."

"Did I tell you to wind the winch?"

"No sir."

"You do what I tell you."

First Officer Fendirand was on shaky ground. Second Officer had given the beardless blonde sailor a legitimate order in hearing of experienced hands. A lowly seaman would have nowhere to hide but had the sponsored trainee whined, it could put the Capt'n in a tight spot. The Elf said, "Aye, sir" and coiled the rope. It did not satisfy the First, but everyone else in earshot knew he showed true colors.

They docked in plenty of time for the Catanard. Cleaned and presentable, Cal and Nag Kath walked and let Eniecia and Legorn share a man-cart also reserved for the trip home. The Librons were already there, chatting with old friends just behind them. The word must have already spread that the mysterious blonde stranger was unattached. Eyelashes fluttered. He smiled.

It being the first show of the season, one of the hands pushed a backdrop off the stage but the singers soldiered on in the tale of an arrogant man controlling his family. The audience knew it well. How they felt afterwards depended on who played the man's doomed ward. She was good, but not great, so no one left the pavilion overly miserable. Wine was found across the street with everyone tucked in bed by the ten-bell.

~o~

Back onboard at eight, this was the deck archery day with additional trainees joining the crew behind the shields. Nag Kath had done this forty years ago, albeit on a larger ship. He brought his Northman bow and an assortment of arrows. Captain Penandoth walked the deck making sure the archers were spaced correctly behind the fixed shields with good footing. Most men used the bows provided on the ship but a few had their own.

The target was a stack of straw bales on a wharf about fifty paces away. Still in the harbor, the ship wasn't rocking much. With only three days left in training, the officers wanted to get this over. A group of eight men fired in unison twice. Then a second group took their place. Better than half of the arrows hit the straw. Nag Kath planned to use the same Dol Amroth arrows as everyone else and no one could really tell who shot which.

First Officer Fendirand must have had a loveless night. Trying to look important to an experience Captain, he walked behind the Elf and barked, "That is not a regulation bow, seaman."

"No sir."

"Why not?"

This charade had gone on long enough. Lord Kath said in his Lordly voice, "Because they are inaccurate, sir"

Captain Penandoth had had enough of his training Lieutenant as well. Before the tall seaman tossed his First over the rail, the Captain said loudly, "Sounds like a challenge. My money is on the Lieutenant!"

Regular deck hands couldn't have bet fifty groats but the selected civilian trainees had nearly a Florin straddling the match. Penandoth said in his quarter-deck voice, "What's your name again, seaman."

"Kath, sir."

"Kath, I want you to put three arrows in those bales."

"Which one, sir?"

So he wanted to be snotty too! Very well, "Second from the left, third from the top."

The Elf put three of his game arrows within a foot of each other just slowly enough for the men to see him nock and pull.

First Officer was trapped. He was a fair archer but out of practice. Stringing his Navy-issue bow, he put all three arrows in the bales but with two on one edge and one six feet away, and not nearly as deep.

Nag Kath seized the initiative, "I am sorry Captain. It seems we have drawn."

Penandoth took the offered escape, "Very well. Next group, up and ready!"

~o~

After they were dismissed, Nag Kath stayed on board a bit longer to gather his weapons. Captain said from behind him, "Good enough for troll eyes, Lord Kath."

The Elf turned and answered, "Sorry to make your man look bad."

"He's not mine, and you let him off the hook."

"He is not our enemy. I have a fair idea about that."

"What brought you here then?"

"I need a ship this size and want to know who does what." He thought a moment, "That may need to stay between us, sir."

"You are the 'sir', My Lord. I think Fendirand can do without you for the next two days."

Nag Kath thought a moment and asked, "Also between us; are you committed to a long career in naval service?"

Penandoth held his chin, "We should talk about that."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

It was time for Nag Kath to take stock. To visit the mythical great gulf a thousand leagues south he needed to acquire a ship, captain, crew, any maps or reference material that could be had and experience. He already had time, money, no local obligations, a shipbuilder, excellent advisors and a compelling reason to go, not to mention a cabin-boy. Nag Kath also had power, especially over or near water. Hoisting that seaman by his ankle over the wake was almost too easy.

~o~

"So you intend to go through with it?" Cal poured three cups of the pale North Belfalas wine in front of the Elf, his da and himself.

"Oh yes. I enjoy a mystery."

Old Legorn observed wryly, "Your granddaughter will not care for this."

Nag Kath grinned, "She is in good hands if orphaned. Now, what does one of those harriers cost?"

Cal replied, "I asked. On the order of thirty Florin, give or take fittings. In your case I should think take since you won't need shield placements or a boarding castle. Keep the ballista mounts though."

Legorn asked, "Will you carry any cargo at all?"

"Probably, sir. We will be welcomed more warmly with things to trade and may come across things wanted up here, nothing heavy, mind.

Cal said, "You have already looked at the ship. Keep her fast. We must consider what people there need. Money buys anything here but they might have Dwarves on a pile of gold. Crafts and finery for the gentry won't take much room."

Legorn was practical, "Get on the list. You did Minister Suvien a favor, but he will soon make his fancy boats and the Prince's order will come first at the ship-ways."

Nag Kath said thoughtfully, "A good thing, perhaps. I am not in a hurry. It might be good for them to build one or two and I slip in after they make their mistakes. I made a point of meeting Mr. Stieffild. He seems a man who can, shall we say, prioritize. I will pay him another visit."

Grinning, Legorn asked, "I don't suppose you need an experienced mate?"

Nag Kath smiled warmly and replied, "In a heartbeat, my friend. You are the great Bilbo, always ready for a new adventure!"

"Oh yes, I would go. How long will you be out?"

Cal wanted to hear this too. The Elf answered slowly, "A year at least, but I do not honestly know. I may travel deep inside. Hopefully the ship waits or I have a long swim. We will have little sense of the winds and weather. There might be nothing to see. All I have is a coin with dots punched around the back." He added gravely, "What do you know of a Captain Penandoth?"

His grandson sipped and replied, "An up-and-comer, but no family to grease the ways. He has impressed?"

"We will have an ale after militia."

Cal said, "I will keep an ear open." More soberly, "Father is right. My wife will not be pleased at you going to uncharted lands."

"Then there will be all the more joy in welcoming me back. She will have plenty of me beforehand. I am no shipwright, but I cannot see leaving before next spring unless a ship appears from a Dwarf-hole."

Cal changed the subject slightly, "Oh, and speaking of idle time, I think Callistra has found you a guest for 'The Reason We Try'." He grinned.

"Do you mean to say my dear companion Legorn here has to sing by his lonesome?"

Cal put his hand on his father's knee saying, "We'll find da a ticket, maybe two if Callistra has a likely lass for him."

Legorn was pleased, "Good! I prefer the comedies."

Cal said more sternly, "Neither of you heard that from me or I will be roasted over coals. Act surprised and gracious, Orc Six!"

~o~

Uncle Nag did. With just the Ivandreds at dinner, Eniecia said as if trying to sound like was nothing less substantial in the world, "Caladrion, Callistra has asked her friend Earmina to join us for the play."

In proper husbandly fashion he replied, "Lovely. I hope the weather is fair."

That was the end of it. Two season seats behind theirs were purchased for an exorbitant but undisclosed sum. That was what money was for. In the household comedy production, Eniecia must have explained Uncle Nag's long and consistent taste in females to her daughter, less one unrequited admirer. Earmina Pfennick was widowed not quite two years ago when her husband washed up on the rocks after fishing. Since he didn't fish, and it was soon learned his business was late on payments, everyone assumed he took a long walk off a short pier. Mina's parents took her back and she was emerging into society again after the long mourning customs of the Dunedain.

Other than her being a widow, none of that was mentioned to Uncle Nag. Damaged goods newly back on the market were Nag Kath's specialty. Since she was billed as Phaeron and Callista's guest, they brought her from her parent's home to the pavilion and met the Ivandreds at their seats.

Mina was lovely. She was not the model of the Elf's women, being only of average height. Her hair was almost raven and worn up for the gala. She reminded him of a smaller Queen Tilli. It helped that on her way through the crowd, people said how glad they were to see her again. If anyone looked down their noses, she didn't notice. That gave her confidence at this; her first outing since poor Waltram's swim. By the strangest happenstance, Earmina and Nag Kath got the two new back seats together. She bowed, he being a Lord, and they took their places as the musicians tuned-up.

Catanard audiences in the Dol Amroth pavilion were a knowledgeable bunch. 'The Reason We Try' was only about thirty years old, so it had flourished at its debut, but wasn't yet a tradition. Its claim to fame was the tenor's lament in the second act that could stand alone, and often did, for solo performances. The man who could please this crowd was acclaimed. And with a happy ending, the play was popular with couples who had romance in mind afterwards.

Mina kept a set smile and watched closely. She was not a devoted Cantanaräe but knew the form. Her hands were in white lace gloves and she kept them folded when lustier patrons hooted and hissed the villains. She would hold them to her cheeks in moments of tension. Her blind-date figured her for thirty-two. He had no idea what she knew of him, probably little if she agreed to come. It was also possible she had no clue this pairing was concocted by females who had learned from the best.

At the finale, everyone lived and either found true love or perdition for their schemes. As surely as this chance meeting was planned, there would be something to follow. The party had reservations at the Lion's Beard just across the street and filed-in with well-heeled patrons. Light fare was already prepared with wine or ale waiting in pitchers.

Mina ventured a conversation, "Did you enjoy the play, Lord Kath?"

"Yes, I did. Please, Nag Kath is more than enough name for a lucky fellow."

"Very well. Do you sing yourself, Nag Kath?"

"Only one note. Now Caladrion and Legorn here; they can cover the range better than most."

Son-in-law Phaeron took that opening, "Oh yes. They can do the top and bottom of 'Merrily I Wait for Her' in fine fashion."

That was an invitation if ever old Legorn had heard one. Since the song started with the baritone, the Captain began before his diplomatic son could object. Young Cal was doomed, as intended, and came in along with half the patrons who knew the song by heart. Mugs were hoisted afterwards and a fair tone was set across the room.

Mina did not drink more than her first cup. She kept her smile throughout and listened carefully to the conversation, sliding in comments when there was an opening. After an hour, Phaeron and Callistra offered to escort her home rather than leave the widow to Uncle Nag's tender mercies. The proper lady thanked her hosts for a lovely evening and was gone with slightly more sway in her walk.

Eniecia announced, "Good. Da, let us call our man-cart and be off." Nag Kath walked outside and whistled it up from the queue. Fifteen minutes later, Eniecia took her tired father-in-law to his bed and rejoined Cal and the Elf in the main room. Still early, Miss Jarvus was ready with tea.

~o~

Eniecia looked at her grand-da and said, "Well …?"

"I had a splendid time, my dear. Thank you for thinking of me." It was the most infuriating answer possible; too vague for information and too polite to be questioned. The deeper reason was that he was planning, perhaps unbeknownst to his granddaughter, a mad voyage to the end of beyond after sitting next to a fair lady who wore lace gloves. Even authors of imaginary lore would never think of that. She was exquisite. Maybe someone would squelch whatever interest she might have by mentioning Orthanc.

Cal intervened, "Interesting that Prince Alphros hasn't been to either production." The Princely box was only ten seats away from theirs. At both operas, the places had been taken by his younger daughter's or Chancelor Fulnorran's families.

Nag Kath said softly, "Child, do you remember doing your water blossom dance for him and his father all those short years ago?"

She replied very tenderly, "I remember that more than anything else I have ever done, dear husband and grand-da." To break the tension she added, "I was ready to rend you and my gloating brother with my teeth until I realized you had given me everything I ever wanted." She reached over to hold Caladrion's hand.

Tenderness over; "Now, Orc Six. What of Mina?"

"She is very fair. I will inquire after her in due course."

Cal knew that meant after he put the down payment on his ship. Eniecia deserved to know so he cleared his throat and started to say, "My love, your grand-da and I have been involved in the most terrible conspiracy to …"

"… to have him sail off the edge of the world." She looked at them both. "What else is he to do? Nag, you are so sweet to love us mortals. Granna was right. You could never be a dark lord. Go with our blessings and come back safe to more stories and music."

She rose, kissed her speechless husband on the forehead and said goodnight. Before reaching the hall, their water blossom turned and said, "But since you are here; Callistra told me Mina adores lore of great heroes. Be kind to her."

Dear Mrs. Pfinnick,

Thank you for joining us at the Catanard. Your presence made the evening. I would be honored if you could join us for 'The Mayor's Niece' playing in three weeks time.

Please let me know of your decision and I hope to see you again, NK

He wasn't sure if that was wise. They were both in their mourning period, as these long-lived Dunedains measured time. Perhaps that would keep her from thinking he had longer-term objectives. In the courtly land of Dol Amroth, there were few whirlwind romances. He loved the company of women for all occasions but had a long, dangerous voyage planned.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

At Ulmo's Locker; "Good to see you, Lord Kath."

"If we can put aside 'Lord' and 'Captain', the conversation will be shorter."

"My first name is Ronalt."

The Elf asked, "How much do you know about me, Ronalt?"

"Some. It seems it was your idea to put longbows on our ships before I was born. Little wonder. How old are you?"

"The same age as Prince Alphros, as it happens."

"Twas you put the arrow in the eye of the troll?"

"The second. A Marine got the first. I was not as clever with the other troll."

Captain Penandoth refilled his goblet and took a small sip as if to say something but held his peace. Nag Kath filled the space by saying, "I told you I need a ship like yours. I intend to sail below Harad for the great gulf said to go hundreds of leagues inland. I can pull ropes and don't puke in rough water, but that does not make me a pilot."

Penandoth considered that a moment and said, "That is not my ship. The Helenndor is my vessel. I wanted a look at the new design. What you suggest is … an adventure?"

"Research only I can do. My last such endeavor lost men. Others have gone better."

"Dorwinion?"

"There, Dale, don't forget Mordor."

Penandoth sipped, "Not a lot to interest a rising naval warrior."

It was time to flip one of his Dukks cards. "Ronalt, you will run out of uncles and princes up the hill just as my son-in-law Legorn Ivandred did."

The Elf took a sip and leaned forward, "I seek a man who does this, and does it right, then never has to work again. By that I mean money up front and more on the back. If you are interested, I need a counselor to build the boat, crew it, all of it. We will take light goods with us and bring some back, but my purpose is to destroy residual evil of the dark lords. I intend to place the order for the ship with Stieffild before the month is out."

Nag Kath turned over another card, "Three Florin before we leave. Half the cargo or ten Florin when we return, whichever is greater. I will put the latter in trust before we go in the event you return and I do not." He took four nippers out of his vest pocket and placed the stack on the table saying, "Pick those up carefully."

~o~

The Elf's perception about Penandoth's chances for promotion hit home. With no worthwhile wars, Captaincies for the capital ships went to Lords and Lords' sons. If he took the Florin, he was the Elf's man. The card Nag Kath did not know he had was that Penandoth's lovely Clarissus was a wife better suited for passionate reunions than everyday life during long stints in dock. Last night she gave her Capt'n an earful over some niggling chore rather than enjoying her marital pleasure. That happened often lately. At thirty-six, the Captain did not feel past such things.

The Captain stared at the dented Kings before putting them in his pocket. Four little ones would be easier to diversify in the family lockbox than a big one. His employer stood and said, "No need to share this with the Admiral just yet. Here is my address. If you are free tomorrow morning, I have some interesting drawings to show you."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~