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

40. Chapter 40 Sea Legs

Chapter 40

Sea Legs

~o~

Miss Glynnys made as good a porridge as could be, but Nag Kath never ate it more than three times a week. The local nuppers helped and he could afford eggs brought from the mainland. His breakfasts were still cheaper than Nemren's, which had to be carted over the same causeway.

Penandoth arrived as Glynnys was cleaning the kitchen leaving Nag Kath and Athmandal stabbing at their bowls not really wanting to eat any more. The sailors were introduced. Since this was the only table downstairs, the lad cleared it and retook his chair while the Elf rolled out a series of drawings. Cook brought the Captain tea.

Nag Kath said, "These are the plans for the new harrier. Don't ask me where I got them." He showed the side, front and top-down compartments in the first three pages. "Now these are from Elvish ships of about the same size I got up north." The Elf flipped through the rebound volume and some of the larger sheets Athmandal gathered from the floor in Mithlond.

Nag Kath continued, "I see a ship using some of both, very fast but built more for comfort than grain."

Penandoth shook his head, "No pig-boat; this. The Ministry would dearly like to see these."

"They have. That is why I want to slide my contract in before the rush. Other shipwrights would serve, but those harriers are now proven. Dal, what tidings?"

"Thommi said Lieutenant Turembad is much about lately, but kicking the planks. The wright said they do that while the palace negotiates." The Captain agreed.

Nag Kath got down to cases; "Gentlemen, it is time to put a deposit down. Captain …" he kept it formal since Athmandal would be subordinate at sea, "… I think it best you keep to your official duties until this is more than smoke, but I hope you will study these drawings."

The Elf twigged his teeth walking to the shipyard and asked to see Mr. Stieffild. The woman who kept salesmen at bay remembered him, as women often did, and said the old wright was at the water's edge but should be back presently. Stieffild ambled back about fifteen minutes later to see the tall, blonde had returned, alone this time.

"What can I do for you young man?"

"I would like a few minutes of your time to talk about having work done, sir."

The wright looked at his clerk and asked, "When does Urath get here?"

"He is delayed until tomorrow, Mr. Stieffild. First thing, he thinks."

Back to Nag Kath; "Come in."

Nag Kath shut the door behind him. The office had a large pane-window looking into the interior of the covered part of the yard. It was open on the sides thanks to the mild weather of Dol Amroth but had a roof for work better done out of the rain. Stieffild stood looking out for a moment so the Elf remained standing too. The old wright sat at his desk and started cleaning his pipe. Knowing it would take a while he motioned for his guest to be seated. Unlike Gandalf, the man spoke as he filled a new bowl, "Tell me what is on your mind."

"I would like you to build me a ship, something akin to the harriers you make now."

Stieffild lit his pipe and shook the match out with his three good fingers. A satisfying puff later he said, "That is a lot of money, young man. Have you got it?"

"Yes."

"And it is likely we will be busy soon. The Navy is working on changes for the line."

"I know. I drew the plans. I was hoping you could finish mine in the summer, after you have had a chance to test the design."

If the shipwright was surprised, he didn't show it. Another pleasing puff later, he would see the blonde's coin. "The base ship is thirty Florin. Whatever else you want stacks on that. We require one in five parts as a deposit. That's ours if you change your mind. You get it back if we cannot deliver. Things happen, if you take my meaning."

Nag Kath knew their terms before he came. Nodding, he said, "That is fair. If your folk will prepare the contract, I will return tomorrow morning with six Florin. Now, I will have some changes, and don't intend them to be difficult or expensive. I will get those to you in good time. When do you think you will lay the keel?"

Stieffild had to light his pipe again before saying, "February, first part of March. You understand I work for less than sympathetic folk?"

"Don't we all, Mr. Stieffild."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

In the meantime, Opher proposed wine at The Quill with another friend who had not attended the Scholars meeting. The Quill was a watering-hole for academics with coin. The food was edible and the wine better. Their waiter was an energetic young man who needed the work but also sought readers for his saucy romance books. It seemed ladies rented chapters by the week with a healthy deposit against keeping it. The Elf suspected these works bordered on topics the Prince's Arbiters might find inappropriate.

Opher's friend was Khandrash, a Southron with an unintentionally deceptive name. Khandrash had been an employee of the Prince's administration in the interior counties for his entire career but was born in Dibis on the northern side of the peninsula enclosing Umbar to the south. His father, a learned man of the Dhuur clan, was encouraged to move north after refusing to acknowledge the suzerainty of tribal lord Randsie. By the time they made it to Pelargir, someone put a knife through Randsie's eye. That news didn't arrive until his da had a job at a winery that paid much better than anything he could return to.

One thing led to another and his da, mother, brother and he worked their way into the heartland of Belfalas. Da stayed in the wine business and Ubier Khandrash eventually became the supervisor of roads connecting market towns in the prosperous Principality counties of Eregost and Mithrast. His lads kept them smooth and fixed the holes. When he retired, he devoted himself to his beloved learning, including tales of the homeland he had never since visited.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Khandrash."

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Kath." His accent was almost too faint to discern.

Khandrash took a bite of the chicken before it dried and said, "Mr. Opher told me of your interest in southern lands and thought I could assist."

"It was kind of you to come, sir. And yes, I purpose to visit the far coast where it is said the dry lands end."

"Ah, Mr. Kath. That is much further than I ever went. I fear I can tell you nothing of the roads or distance."

Nag Kath responded, "In truth, sir, I am more interested in the people I might meet. I know quite a bit about men close to the Gondor border and spent considerable time with several Mûmakil crews working construction projects."

"My! Those beasts come from much further south than my humble beginnings also. My father was a wise man who learned and taught lore of the region. In his youth, he listened to the old men who survived the dark days. They said the huge creatures came from the rivers flowing into the Umbar gulf from the south.

"Sauron's minions went there to demand tribute from the Lords. For reasons only known to them, they were placed in the service of the fierce Chelkar allies from the Khandian rim. Many of them were slain with their handlers in Gondor. Since then, the two peoples will have nothing to do with each other."

The Elf started a prepared exchange, "I am sorry, Mr. Opher. I did not mean to exclude you. Do either of you gentlemen know of the Black Numenoreans?"

Opher answered the planted question, "The Faithless; said to favor Sauron over the Valar to the doom of their island. What little I know is that they took all of Harad after the sundering. As their vigilance waned, fierce tribesmen from the eastern deserts overwhelmed them even as the Gondorans attacked from the north. I cannot speak to those further down."

Khandrash continued, "Perhaps I can. Grandfather said in the dark days, servants of Mordor traveled there to demand aid. Terrible wars among factions yet again divided the dark ones and those who had reclaimed their faith, even though it was long since any of them knew what that meant. Some came here in fealty to Sauron while others refused."

Nag Kath took a sheet of Fûl on one side and Orlo on the other and asked, "Have you ever seen either of these?"

The right-living Scholar knew them both and played his role, "I know Fûl, but only from the works in your life, Mr. Kath."

Khandrash nodded in agreement but looked longer at the right-living symbol. The Elf and Opher watched closely for a reaction. Tapping his temple with his finger the Southron stammered, "Forgive my failing memory. I left Harad when I was eight but that reminds me of the glyph the houlars used to show their trade." He looked at Opher, "Houlars, yes? Women who used herbs and ointments to heal hurts and illness. The only reason I recall is that men whipped my father to leave and he was later tended by an old crone of that symbol. I could be completely wrong, but that was my first impression and I have learned to trust them."

"Mr. Khandrash, do you recall if any of the men who attacked your father had red collars?"

"Schieal! I do not know. Mother hid us away. Father later said they were foot-sore for being sent all the way from Isgar. They gave him the lightest of beatings with little malice and were more concerned with stealing the grain bucket. He only accepted the ministrations of the Hoular woman because she walked long from Hito and was of good family."

Nag Kath held his chin and smiled. Orlo, you crafty old devil! Did you create weak female sorcerers to further your cause? Were some of them brought into dark service to balance the scale?

Nag Kath apologized for taking and offering nothing in return. The Scholars were not offended. Opher said, "Please, Mr. Kath, some of us are resigned to remembering. Some of us create. In our small way, lore lives on through those like you. When we meet again, perhaps you will tell us other things we should remember."

~o~

Nag Kath took Opher aside to tell him he would need some Righters on his ship. Dol Amroth was not a hotbed of them. They tended not to pursue affluence and Dol Amroth liked its comforts. The difficulty in getting all right-living folk was; one needed experienced sailors for the kind of trip he had in mind. The sea could be a cruel mistress with no malice aforethought. Sailors might not see the same need for sacrifice. Irons were in the fire. Dal was woefully under-employed. That would change when the Captain officially resigned. Barahir was rumored coming. He was building a ship, oh, and an attractive woman might be interested.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Things got slightly less complicated with another domestic squabble between Penandoth and cherished Clarissus. He gave her one of the nippers for the household shopping, far more than enough to include a large jug of barley spirits. Deep in her cups, the woman gripped the change from her liquor and cursed her husband blue for all manner of imagined faults, finally screaming, "Had I a Florin, I would be shot of you!"

The Captain came by Nag Kath's before cook even got there. The Elf opened the door, stared for a moment and swung it wide. Penandoth walked in and sat at the table. The Elf gave the groggy Dal a wink to take a walk and sat down himself. Penandoth said without preamble, "I will resign my commission and work for you, but I need another Florin, now. It is personal and I am ashamed to ask in this way."

The Captain expected to be interrogated but Nag Kath went to his little desk for a coin and laid it on the table without a word. The Captain stared at it longer than he did the four nippers before gently slipping his fingernail under the edge and rolling it into his palm, "I will be back in two days. Please forgive me."

One needed a stable marriage to advance in the Navy to high Captain. If he didn't need that career, he didn't need that wife. Walking to the notary, Penandoth slowly grew a grin that left Nag Kath's in its wake.

~o~

At dinner with the Ivandreds the next night, Eniecia said to the air in the room, "Mina seems a very nice young woman."

When Uncle Nag did not respond, Cal said, "Yes, very nice indeed."

Undeterred, Eniecia commented, "Now which is it … yes, 'The Enscior Murtal' is next Thursday. Sometimes the tragedies make me melancholy, but they can be uplifting."

Not even Legorn would touch that one. Their water blossom bloomed on, "My friend Lurnith knows a woman who enjoys …"

The stern Elf-Lord glare froze her tongue. Eniecia had never seen it before but Nag Kath had a lot on his mind and juggling females had no room on the manifest. The Countess of Dale had another bite of fish. Uncle Nag said he would skip the tearful, three-act dirge. Cal and Eniecia's children could have his seats.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath's raised eyebrow never threatened Talereth's, but Captain Penandoth got his best when he showed the following morning. The man traded his Florin for a signature, moved his things to a small apartment near the shipwrights and got his handshake at the Naval Office. He was in neck-deep with little to do until Stieffild and Yarlundar started bending boards.

It was too early to look for crew. Penandoth explained the expected outlays. Senior men came first since they would need to commit before the next trading season. The crew could come afterwards and a few Haradrim nearer sailing. The last were easily found. Though not sworn loyal to the Prince, they were reliable since they would be treated worse than the western sailors if captured by former countrymen.

The Elf hadn't expected Penandoth to be available so quickly. Taking a long sip of tea, Nag Kath said, "I need to tell you what I am about here. I have told you of some of my skills. There are more. I am going south following the suggestion of a very powerful sorcerer to see what is left of Sauron's powers and, if possible, to destroy them. It could well mean having the crew in a safe port while I thresh the wheat.

"It might be nothing, we trade our goods and turn around. It could take months to discover the secrets. The sorcerer, wizard, probably, has a following which for thousands of years has sought to disrupt Sauron's intent. They work humbly and quietly, and seldom in the west. Last week I sent a letter to a friend in Osgiliath recommending if a few can be found that they come here to be among our crew. If I need to go deep into the heart of the beast, they will be my companions. The Righters are almost certain to need training, but will be brave and true if any can be found."

Penandoth wasn't concerned, "That is no trouble. If they are greenbottoms, I will need sailors to fill those duties. It only means we have a few more folk onboard."

~o~

As with the aqueduct, Nag Kath called a meeting of the principals including the Captain, his new adjutant Dal, the right-living and southern scholars, Minister Cal and himself. There were no secrets. This was not a government project but it was sanctioned by the highest Lord of the land. Since responsibilities had been divided, everyone was fascinated by the whole. Opher and Kastagorm would not accept compensation. Khandrath took a modest retainer for very valuable information about customs and history of a place most of the world tried to forget. After today, Nag Kath met the scholars separately.

Khandrath explained Harad was the first enemy to reach terms with the Elessar. The northern Easterlings raided several more years until the King's and Prince Faramir's troops destroyed their forces. Everyone knew a more recent probe-in-strength was slain to the last man by men stationed in Dorwinion. Nag Kath told them it wasn't until Dulgov that the two sides broke bread.

Harad was a huge place and after the war, no one part spoke for any other. The King's agreement was with the tribes closest to the border but that carried no weight with those of the deep-south and southwest. The clans along the southern Mordor Duath had been the most fanatical which earned them the worst casualties on the Pelennor. They might be trouble now that their population was at pre-war strength. That would have been far worse had the Visitors succeeded in pushing their aims to the less-defended Khanates below. Nag Kath's Mordor story gave that context.

~o~

After hauling his things to a home mercifully without Clarissus, Penandoth spent time with the Ministry and Elvish plans. He proposed a few changes; adding brackets along the rails so shields could be used at need. Installing a derrick davit near the main hatch would let them onboard anything heavy since they would not be crewing extra men for cargo. He also suggested two pivoting rear-ballista mounts. If the ship was built to outrun, the enemy would be astern. With no objections or new business, a demi-cask was tapped. Nag Kath told them any of them could speak to any of the others without his leave and that he was proud of them.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

By all accounts, the Catanard was as depressing as advertised. Purists believed they had to suffer through at least one per year to complete their ritual. This time, Callistra and Phaeron brought their children so old Captain Ivandred neatly avoided the protracted heartbreaker. Looking forward; one simply cannot appreciate the situation without understanding 'The Mayor's Niece'. One of the oldest Catanards still performed, it is usually the anchor of the season. Songs requires great range in both the male baritone and tenor leads. The women are more comedic than musical but get the best speaking lines.

Tradition matters. The Niece is a bawdy tale hinting in the opening act that the maiden may not be, shall we say, inexperienced. It also encourages the sort of audience participation to make the Elves of Lorien cringe. The piece was too well established to deny, even by a line of rather priggish Princes dating to before Imrahil. Given the rotation at this; the shrine of the musical form, it played every four or five years and always to standing-room crowds.

Who sat in the Prince's box mattered.

~o~

With that backdrop, Nag Kath collected his lovely belle on the chime of six and walked her down to the pavilion. The sun had chased the few light clouds away hours before Arien carried it behind the Prince's Citadel. One could not have ordered a better evening.

Mina wore brighter colors and her hair was up again, held in place with two long, thin strips of blackwood. She was more relaxed than the last opera and pleased to be out. He wondered if he would ever be alone with her. The older Ivandreds were already seated with Field and Grenda. Raniece came last year but this was daughter Talienne's first opera as an adult. The eighteen year-old chatted with the pretty, enigmatic widow.

When members of the Princely family attend this or any other large event, the audience stands as they find their chairs. Tonight the patrons got a thrill when the heir, Lord Imrothil, his older sister, Lady Lourden and both their spouses arrived with several of their children and a special guest, young Lord Barahir of Ithilien. A murmur through the crowd told everyone who he was.

As he was taking his seat, Barahir saw the Ivandreds twenty feet away and waved calling, "Ah, splendid to see you. Let us speak after the performance."

The Lords of Belfalas seemed pleased and settled on their cushions as the Sayer walked on stage to set the night's intrigues. All prepared themselves for the opening except young Talienne, who, from the relative angle of their seats, was directly in line with the handsome northern Prince speaking to the Elf behind her. Her eyes were as big as those of the frogs men hunt with polished lamps at night.

Mina leaned against the tall Elf to enjoy watching the poor Niece escape her Uncle's schemes to divide her dowry by marrying her to an ill-favored businessman. Leotas was in fine form as the Mayor. A large, florid man in grotesque face-paint, he broadly acted his sinister designs to vocal condemnation. Of course, the actors played off the audience too. One patron cried, "How can you treat her so?"

Leotas bellowed, "You would too with this heavy costume!"

~o~

A great success! People stood and clapped as the cast, musicians and dancers came back on stage to bow and thank their noble sponsors. Lord Imrothil started speaking with the man in next box which gave Barahir a chance to work through the patrons and shake Nag Kath's hand.

The changeling said, "I am glad you could come. When did you arrive?"

Barahir answered, "Just yesterday."

The Elf asked, "May I present my family? This young fellow is Captain Ivandred. This is Minister Caladrion, who I believe you know, and his wife, Countess Eniecia. Together they were the players from the famed trip to King Elfwine's wedding."

Barahir reassured with; "That was one of grand-father's favorite stories, and my Aunt Lilleth's too." Looking at still beautiful Eniecia, "She was much taken with your poise."

"These are their children, Field and Grenda Ivandred and their daughters Raniece … " he nodded to the other end of the box, " … and Talienne, who, is rumored, can sing like a bird."

Barahir kissed the blushing girl's hand and said, "I am indeed fortunate."

"And this, My Lord, is Mrs. Pfennick who knows more about this music than I ever will."

"Enchanted, Mrs. Pfennick. Nag, what is the day … come up for lunch on Saturday."

"I will be there, sir." The Prince's box was preparing to leave so the young Lord excused his way through the patrons again and was off with the guardi escort. Everyone stared at the Elf who waited for the ladies to gather their wraps and make for the Lion's Beard.

~o~

The Ivandreds did no singing this night and left after the first pitcher of wine. Grenda and Field took their awestruck daughters home leaving just Nag Kath and Mina while people from the audience trickled in to take formerly reserved seats. It was the closest they had been to being alone. Both finished their cups and walked up a side street that wasn't so crowded.

She said, "It seems you are more hero than I know. I suppose I will have to wait to hear your stories, Nag Kath."

"A fair exchange. You are dazzling tonight."

Arriving at her parents' home she said, "Thank you. It has been some time since I dressed for an occasion. Now, I have done it twice in a month. Perhaps my luck is turning. Thank you for a lovely evening."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath had not been to this part of the palace before. Barahir was in secluded guest quarters closer to the Princely family than the administrative offices. He suspected they had private council-rooms in-between. Other than meeting Prince Imrahil in his office, his only visits here had been in the more public rooms or for finger-cakes in large settings.

The city was abuzz that the heir of Belfalas had come to the most important Catanard of the season. Prince Alphros was now 92, six months older than Nag Kath. If Imrothil and his eldest sister came with their broods, the Principality should prepare for that from now on.

Nag Kath had only met Alphros once at the wedding sixty years ago and never met Imrothil. He supposed that would change. Barahir's father was still in his prime so the young man was probably representing Ithilien's intertwined interests and meeting his own generation.

"Ah, come in, my friend!"

Nag Kath bowed and shook Barahir's hand. The young heir showed him to a chair at a small, round dining table and took one beside it. They helped themselves to cool tea from a pitcher and clicked mugs. Bara said, "Thank you for your letter. This visit had been in motion for a long time but your being here is a nice touch."

"Thank you, Bara. It seems we both have considerable family on the island."

Barahir smiled, "I have made discreet inquiries about kingly romance. To be honest, I imagine my tale with difficulty as the ending might not go as well as the rest. You are right that events must be considered after the moment."

"I feared you might, sir. And if I may be so bold, those who write them are often of their own moment. You have opportunities and responsibilities in the here and now."

"Father often reminds me of that."

Nag Kath knitted his eyebrows a bit and remembered, "There is a source you must consider, lo I do not know if it is even of Middle-earth anymore. Do you know the Hobbits in the Shire?"

"Oh indeed I do. Both Thain Pippin and Master Meriodoc were often guests or we saw them in the White City. That is where I heard my first stories of our Liege before his Kingship."

Nag Kath warmed to his lore, "The Ringbearers wrote their history, going back to the destruction of Smaug. Bilbo began. Frodo has the bulk of it and Samwise added more later. It was an ongoing tale and much revered, bound in red leather, and written in different hands with pictures and maps.

"You must look at that, and perhaps have copies made so all the world can see the tale of such noble little people. If your later duties call for a trip to Annúminas, you go right through the place. You would certainly be welcomed in their gracious style." The Elf smiled, "Take a scribe along for the ride."

Bara exclaimed, "You make my labors too easy! Yes, I shall do that, or, at least, send the scribe."

Servants brought a light lunch in the local style of putting different things between small sliced loaves like his picnics with Phyll. The friends took what they wanted from the plates and constructed their own with sauces and greens. After finishing a large bite, the heir changed the subject, "King Elessar was much taken with the drawings from Mithlond. As I understand it, Ministers here think to include Elvish elements in their vessels?"

Nag Kath winced inwardly. "I thought those might make their way upriver. The main difference is the shape of the hull. Their craft are deeper, methinks more stable in high swells. Men are working on that now."

It was not especially secret so Barahir added, "I know Prince Legolas was in the White City not long before me and was said to enjoy seeing the craft of his kin." No surprise there. The Elf would need a boat one of these days. He may have been to the Grey Havens fifty times over his long life but somehow, Nag Kath thought fewer. The Woodland Realm was the outlier among the the firstborn in Arda. His father was the last Elf of Middle-earth who styled himself as a king. Legolas was honored in the other realms, but not of them.

The Elf asked, "Now to the important business; did you enjoy the music?" That impossibly broad question could range from the portly villain's comical intrigues to the succession of Dol Amroth.

The heir formed a curious smile, "I did, but I cannot say I quite understood it. The men of Ithilien style themselves as hard defenders of the borderlands. Leisure is weakness. While folk here have been fighting almost all the while, they allow themselves surcease, knowing it refreshes them." He winked, "Osgiliath; does not signify. They have their pleasures. Your party seemed to know when to cheer and boo."

The Elf had a long pull of the excellent tea and added, "All among them were born and bred here, except my granddaughter Eniecia. She is a granddaughter of Brand of Dale but came into her own in Minas Tirith. Her mother, my adopted daughter Ardatha, was friend to your grandmother Éowyn. It can be a confusing web of lines in these closed worlds.

"And the charming Mrs. Fen …"

"Mrs. Pfennick. I just met her at the connivance of my lady relatives."

Barahar thought a moment, "Yes, I am on the block here also. Now, the young lady in front of you, she was very fair indeed."

"Talienne, my great, great granddaughter." Nag Kath chuckled, "She is our Queen Nephtat."

The heir cocked his head slightly to encourage the rest. The Elf elaborated, "In that family, every few generations brings forth a woman who resembles a painting of an ancient Queen on the seventh. The hair can vary but the face is as painted centuries ago. Talienne is now just eighteen. I do not know her parents very well and have not asked their plans for her, though I do know this was the first season she accompanied her parents as a woman-grown."

~o~

Barahir was here to represent his father in consultations with the blood relations of the kingdom. As the young man alluded, he might also be shopping for a Lady Wife since Ithilien was not overcrowded with nobility. There would be a variety of courtly maidens who happened to be in his presence while he was here for as long as two months. His larger duty was to spend time with Imrothil and his brother Emphar. Imrothil was the same age as Barahir's father Elboron and the imminent successor. Nag Kath knocked on that door, "Bara, if it does not betray any state secrets, how fares our Prince of Dol Amroth?"

"No secret, my friend. He is still sharp of mind but has difficulty with his joints. Lords Emphar and Imrothil are doing more of the endless tasks that come from managing such a cumbersome government. It is an orderly succession as these things go."

"Please convey my best wishes to the family. I do not know this generation."

Barahir did not care for the Belfalas leafy cabbage and removed it from the rest of his stack before saying, "And now; what of you? Your guest seemed very fair."

Nag Kath laughed, "We just met, but yes, she is lovely. My problem, and this is no great secret but not widely known, is that I purpose to sail to lands below Harad. It is probably a long, dangerous business and I do not need to make the poor woman a widow twice."

"Hence your interest in Elvish ships?"

"Umhumm. The sorcerer of Rhûn left a clue to that land. If he was there, there were probably men of his path fighting those of Sauron's flock. I will see what remains of both."

"I should go with you. Statues aren't erected for administrators."

The Elf chuckled, "Then you haven't seen my statue. It is in the annex of the water gates in Osgiliath. If you look, you will appreciate that noble men do what is right for their people, in war and peace. Not that you wouldn't be welcome. Dear Captain Ivandred was my first volunteer. He is a mere one hundred and five, a famed Captain of Marines!"

"Tell me more about it. Father's Chamberlain has a full schedule of meeting and greeting but there are sizeable gaps."

"If royal food grows old, come to my family's for dinner. The blue Odar are running."

Barahir thought through his schedule, "Give me two weeks."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath took the time to organize. Penandoth presented his modifications to the ship plans. It had the deeper hull but was otherwise closer to the Navy than the Elvish design since the ship had to start before the first new harriers would have really been tested in blue water. Dal kept with the Captain and the two got along well. Penandoth needed him more than Nag Kath and that would only increase from here.

Preparing for the south was a jumble of unrelated pieces so Nag Kath spent time with his helpers separately. The Scholars, both the two and occasional meetings of the larger group, were an enormous resource. Opher considered his way of life to be right-living had not been to the east. The Elf spent many hours with him talking about the sorcerer and the Ghurates. With family and, no doubt, a secure income here in this excellent place, he would not be visiting there as a pilgrim.

Khandrash knew of languages and types of men to the south. He had been no further than he was born but folk traveled north and south along the coast all the time, some from well down. One old-timer remembered the female Mûmikils going up to work on Nag Kath's water-path. Most travelers spoke some sort of Westron or Plainstongue. Rumor had it; the surviving Black Numenoreans still spoke Sindarin when they lived in Umbar.

Dal spent most of his time with Captain Penandoth, sometimes sleeping on the man's floor and sometimes at Nag Kath's. Glynnys made breakfast and usually dinner for all three whether it was served at the Elf's home or not. The sailors had more to do and were usually together but Dal still ran errands for Nag Kath.

~o~

Uncle Nag paid a call to Field and Grenda Ivandred. Field watched the properties here in Dol Amroth for his parents after Eniecia inherited both her parent's estates. It wasn't much work since most of the property was upriver, but the man made sure the bank drafts were booked. A sedentary job helped after resigning his Marine commission because of a broken leg at sea. He could walk fine on flat surfaces but avoided steps.

Both girls were out, as Nag Kath suspected. Grenda showed him in for tea and they deployed around the low table. Field said, "How is your boat coming along?"

"We keep playing with the design but the wright won't lay the keel until late winter. I think they are trying the new design soon so I will sneak by for a look until they toss me out."

Grenda said, "The Captain enjoyed the comedy. I love it when grand-da has a good time. He is still very hale."

Nag Kath grinned, "He is the best of men. Forgive me for coming unannounced but I wanted to catch you both alone. If this is not my concern, say so, but I wanted to ask if you have considered Talienne's future."

Grenda replied, "Of course. She is coming into her own." The woman demurely poured her tea and stated, "You are up to something, Nag Kath."

"The heir to Ithilien asked about her. I do not know if he was merely being polite, but he is not here entirely to wish his Uncle peace beyond the circle. If he asks again, what do I say?"

Field took a long pull of his tea, prepared with honey in the custom of his kin. Then he looked at his wife. They had educated the girl as Eniecia had been taught. She was intelligent, mannerly and attractive. But she was also still quite young. Heritage certainly qualified her. She was in the direct line of the King who slew Smaug. On Cal's side she and Barahir were kin to the King of Rohan. Talliene had not been groomed for royalty and they would not force her into marriage to feather their well-feathered nest. If the right prince came knocking that was fine, but he would need more than his title to claim either of their lasses.

Grenda did the talking, "You know him, Nag, is he a wholesome man?"

"Indeed. A bit bookish but also an earned officer of their horse, and they take that position seriously across the Anduin. Between us, though it is probably no secret, I think life is a bit dull for him after schooling in the White City. It pays him and his parents, who are very fine people, to visit his kin here. What their other designs are, I cannot say."

Field had another sip and said, "If the man inquires, I think Talienne would enjoy meeting him again. I have never seen the painting you say captures her line, but perhaps she is a queen of old." Grenda nodded. Not much slipped past Grenda.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The last opera in the fall season was 'That Which Comes to Us'. It was the performance Nag Kath saw when he escaped the guest quarters after he was taken from the cave, not that he knew. It is a short work in a single long act.

Most of the classic forms are adults trying to manipulate younger relatives; tragedies if they succeed, comedies if they fail. This story has magic; the tale of a sorcerer of indifferent morals and ability who learns he has a nephew contemplating marriage to a noble lass. He must choose between his kin and his own interests. At times in its history, rulers forbade its playing thinking it gave commoners airs that they could rise above their station. No one seemed worried about that now so it played every six or seven years at the end of the season when folks' attention was drifting from summer entertainment.

Mina was waiting by the door. The old steward turned and saw her before shuffling out of the way. Nag Kath kissed her hands as she showed him into the main room.

It would have been unthinkable for a maiden to leave unchaperoned with a man, and butler Demandred thought Nag Kath a man. But Earmina Pfennick, nee Reynthalar, had been a married woman and they were allowed more freedom in the Principality. Her parents had no trouble with that, but the poor butler still thought of her as the shy lass he knew since birth.

Nag Kath collected his lovely Earmina after greeting her parents and they strolled to the pavilion. She was very quiet and held his arm this time. The Captain was there. This was one of his favorites and included a song he had sung for ninety years. That could have been annoying except he was good. Cal and Eniecia were seated and this time the Libron's joined them with their son Menalgir.

~o~

It wasn't until the fourth song that Nag Kath realized this was the beauty and the glory that saved him. Mina felt him become very quiet and leaned against him in the faint light. When it was time to cheer or hiss, he remained still, holding her hand, never taking his eyes from the stage.

The wizard was a parody of famed wizards, including his three, including him too when he did his sums. He carried a staff equipped with a small lamp that had to be cosseted not to go out dispensing his inept spells. The lad and lass were not as dim-witted as in the family comedies. Neither was especially young either, but with face-paint, it was their voices that mattered.

Mina sneaked looks at her enthralled Elf. The stage wizard was in the throes of doubt how to help without jeopardizing his position with the local squire. In the end, he chose what was best for his nephew and all was put right.

Nag Kath smiled and seemed attentive at the Lion's Beard but Earmina knew his mind was still on stage. Was it the wizard? He said he knew several. Was it the choice of human good? She was not sure. Callistra gave Mina a wink as the older members left Uncle Nag and his date by themselves.

Mina probed, "Nag, what is it? You seemed lost to us tonight."

He smiled and said, "I am sorry. That was the first entertainment I ever saw. It brought back associations I thought gone. It is curious that the hapless wizard should be so far from the real ones. They seem distracted, but there is steel inside"

She asked, "May I ask what you are a Lord of?"

"Galador. I performed a service for Prince Imrahil, got my name carved in a monument somewhere. My dear, you seem especially fair tonight."

"Why thank you, Lord Kath." She became more grave. "I have not been out much since my difficulty."

He looked down at her in puzzlement. Her face drained realizing Callistra had not explained the scandal of her widowhood. Oh dear! Here was this courtly gentleman, now trapped into being seen with her publicly.

The woman stopped breathing. "Nag Kath, my husband died under less than noble circumstances. I would have you know that before you risk your reputation in my company."

She was so lovely, even pale from this painful exercise in courage. Her lip quivered slightly but she was determined. "Since I started this, you should know my late husband was found floating in the harbor several days after disappearing. It was later discovered that his accounts were in arrears."

Nag Kath misunderstood, "Did they catch his killers?"

"Oh, no, he must have cast himself in the bay." When that didn't change his expression she added, "It was not a great deal of money. He had a dice habit. It was not so much that either of our parents could not have settled. It seems his father had before and ended-up doing so the last time too."

"I am sorry, Mina. Why would that reflect poorly on you?"

Her lip trembled again. She squeezed her fists with the thumb inside. "I was the wife of a man who disgraced himself and his family. In our little world, wives are complicit. I am sorry Lord, excuse me, Nag Kath. Your people are said to be so fair."

The Elf had a long pull of the pleasing wine and used one of his more serious faces so as not to make light of the woman's difficulty before saying, "Please, do not give it another thought, for my sake or anyone else's. You are a dear woman with so much to look forward to. I am proud to be seen in your presence."

She recovered her color with a slight blush to boot. Nag Kath went on to say, "You must tell me all about yourself but I suppose I have some confessing to do first. I was changed to this form through unknown craft and tutored by wizards so I have some weak sorcery of my own. I am a powerful healer which has come in handy many times. Since the Elves are neither hostile nor welcoming, I have always lived among men and found my greatest happiness among them, though I am still in my own mourning period for the loss of my wife."

Callistra had not mentioned he was recently widowed either. "I have been married three times and enjoy that state, but it is only fair to tell you that a long, dangerous voyage awaits me beyond where the maps end."

"You are an immortal? Like an Elf?"

He held his hair back. She said on her breath, "Are you ages old?"

"Not yet a hundred."

She grew excited, "Even so, there are great tales of Elves even recently. One killed the trolls of Pelargir!"

"Well, uhm, that was me."

The young woman felt his ear, "You are a hero, then?"

"I fear so."

She said rather urgently, "Nag Kath, your behavior had been so courtly. You are a true gentleman."

"Thank you, I think."

"I am not a maiden. There are those who would think that I might, well, might have more mature needs." She began to cry softly. Mina dabbed her eyes and found strength to say, "It is more than that though. You, your family, comes from the breed of heroes. I was a spinster, a lass and then woman with her head in the clouds. My only choice in life was to remain so or marry. Waltram was at times a thoughtful husband. But I could never have been more than his wife and then I became less.

"And now there is you. But you do not touch me. I do not know if it is because I am a tradesman's daughter, or sullied by circumstance or because you would not take me and then leave on your quest. Forgive me." The tears started again, "I have overstepped my bounds. I think I should go now."

The Elf did not release her hands, "Let me tell you a great story of the bravest woman. She was a maid in a land of fierce warriors, in love with a man already betrothed.

"Her King had her care for the women and children as her people stood against the most fearsome foe. They prevailed, but she would not be left behind for the next battle so she disguised herself among riders in terrible strife until it was she who slew the greatest of their enemies. Then she married the finest of men and had children and grandchildren in their time. You met one at the last play.

"All of those were noble duties and brought her honor and joy in their turn. You are no different. I feel your strength. You are brave and loyal. Do not despair. Your parents have been brave to keep you safe. Poor old Demandred protects you against unsavory Elves."

Mina laughed. The notion of the sweet old retainer broke through her melancholy.

Nag Kath continued, "But you are right; I would not take you and then leave you for my frivolous adventure. Now, as to touching you, I can imagine nothing finer. I am very fond of that. But I have learned that even greater heroes than me cannot leave such thoughtlessness in their wake."

"Yes, yes I enjoy that too, but not when done in hopes it would keep my Waltram from the gambling hells. He would leave after and I knew I was not enough. I am sorry, Nag Kath. I am so ashamed." A single tear slid down her cheek.

In watching the rudderless wizard finally decide for the better, Nag Kath resolved to be chaste with the young widow. But this was also Barahir's story of Arwen and Aragorn reversed. Nag Kath was not a Lord of dark or light here to judge mortals. Mina was a woman who was bound to the strictures of her small society. She would rather be with a strong man even for a while than spend the rest of her life trying to make-up for things beyond her control. She deserved better. In the end, he would not have her waiting most of her mortal life for him. Like Grace, the perfect man lived within a mile of her.

Grimly he said, "I suppose I should return you to Demandred."

Nag Kath felt terrible. He could have taken her to bed and showed her how heroes please their ladies, but that would leave her doubly shamed. He could marry her to live the best years of her mortal life a widow twice-over. Kissing her hands, he hoped she might be here if he returned from Harad or might find a hero who could share life's stages equally.

It was a long walk home.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Khandrash knew of an Umbar captain's diary in a private collection that described the harbors around that gulf. It was old enough to be in Sindarin, suggesting the mariner was a Black Numenorean. The Umbar regions had been overrun by men of Harad centuries ago who would have used their language or a common-tongue if they kept records at all.

Nag Kath sent a letter to the owner introducing himself and asking if he could look at the document with his friend, Scholar Khandrash. After a week there was no reply. He sent another and waited another week. After a while, he decided there was nothing for it and walked to the imposing home in the Castle Quarter below the bailey.

A tall, soldierly retainer opened the door and Nag Kath stated his business. The man said, "Lord Éomandar does not receive unannounced guests. You will have to send a note to schedule a time."

"I did."

"Then it is likely he does not want to see you. Good day."

As the man was about to shut the door, a curious yellow light hit his eyes. Behind that he heard, "Tell the Lord that Lord Kath is here on business from the crown."

Khandrash kept his tongue behind his teeth and watched the doorman's frown as if trying to remember why he had tied a string around his finger. He turned with a half-hearted effort to close the door which hit the Elf's foot. They followed the retainer as far as they entry hall and waited.

What they got was the lady of the house, an imposing creature if there ever was one. She would be a doyen of this the most prestigious area of the city other than the citadel itself. Lady Éomander appraised the two pitilessly and said, "My husband is indisposed. What is your business here?

Nag Kath said, "Forgive the intrusion, ma'am. I am Nag Kath and have come for permission to review one of Lord Éomander's histories. It may be helpful on a mission I am tasked to perform by the King." The King didn't know anything about this but he had no trouble with the Grey Havens and probably wouldn't mind this little incursion either.

Another thing Nag Kath knew for sure was that an offer to rent or buy the information would die on the vine. The only way to get at this or anything else Éomander had was from above. While the woman mulled that, he wondered if they were any relation to the Rohirrim in Orthanc. It did not seem politic to ask.

Lady Éomander said to the doorman, "Make them comfortable in the library." Implied was that they were not to leave his sight. The tall servant led them to a very nice room that got the eastern sun through fine-paned windows. No refreshments were offered.

Better than a quarter-bell later, an old cove shuffled into the library and said in grave tones, "Well, you came. What do you need?"

Nag Kath said, "I wanted to ask if you own a copy of Captain Hearinald's sailing diary."

"And if I did, what is that to you two?"

The Elf did the talking, "I will be traveling that way next year."

The old boy considered that for a moment and said, "It is in Elvish."

"I was hoping it might be. Does it have any maps?"

Now that he had established these weren't salesmen, Lord Éomander relaxed. His wife and doorman did not and continued scowling at the two seated scholars. The old man walked to the rack next to Khandrash and pulled a small book off the top shelf. He took an age to find his half-specs and make sure this was the right one then handed it to Nag Kath. A piercing look over his specs was followed by the command, "Tea, Meanace." The man was gone followed by Lady Éomander.

Nag Kath opened the small book. It had been rebound in velum to match others in the collection. And it was in Sindarin but neglected most of the proper Elvish punctuation and capital letters – something you might expect of a writer on sea in bad light. Éomander sat next to Khandrash and watched.

The Elf looked up and asked, "Have you read this yourself, Lord Éomander?"

"To the extent I can. Elvish was not my best subject."

Thinking he had a potential ally, if not friend, Nag Kath began reading with the slight theatrics of the Elf-keepers;

Clouds converge from the west. I have ordered sail brought in enough to run with the sea and make Ardûmír before they soak us. We are at half-hold with the gureeq grain. Making port will cost us three days to Umbar but we are too heavy to fight north or run the gauntlet if the Haradaich hide in the rocks above Nar Point. Remind First Officer to ration the wine tonight.

Nag Kath found a map.

A fair harbor with few lighters. Rocks along the outer edge, sand bottom on the lee. Anchor in the blue deep channel. Natives can row to us with their dried fruit. Better to come in January. Woman wearing gay colored shawls watch carefully.

The Elf looked at the Scholar who said, "The port of Pondurash, methinks."

Éomander looked at the two as a rather comely maid arrived with a pot and three mugs of tea. Deciding it was too hot, the man put it on the straw pad and said, "An ordinary diary, it would seem, gentlemen."

As scripted, Khandrash said, "Those are often where the details lay, Lord Kath."

The old collector said, "Lord? You some sort of Lord?"

"Yes, sir, of Galador." He was a lord in Dale and Gondor too but the leading lights of Dol Amroth considered Gondor more ally than overlord. Hadn't their Prince come to the Pelennor when Aragorn was a mere ranger?

"Can't say I've heard of you, but then, I don't get out the way I used to."

Nag Kath said, "I have only been back this season visiting family."

The Elf was prepared to drop names shamelessly but that was more effective when asked. His Lordship did, "Anyone I know?"

"Minister Caladrion, though he is now retired from active service."

"Good man, needed to be firmer with Pelargir, though! Now, what about the book?"

"With your permission, I would like to read it and make a few notes to see how it compares with the fleet records."

Khandrash knew how to keep his mouth shut. 'Fleet records' implied there were documents dear Lord Éomander didn't have. He wouldn't get them either since there weren't any, but they could attend that later. The old Lord muttered, "Well, I suppose that is fine. Make yourselves at home." He rose and made for the main part of the house.

Nag Kath read quietly but would say ports and people's names if Khandrash could place them. One thing stood out; at the beginning of each day's entry, the mariner wrote a symbol that was not Elvish. It wasn't any of the Sauronic glyphs he recognized either. Perhaps that was for the King's-Men. He copied it carefully.

~o~

There wasn't too much to this volume but the ones next to it might have secrets. Reading his mind, the Scholar rose and stretched looking for someplace to put his empty mug. When no one came to take it, Nag Kath took a quick peek at three books with matching covers.

Oh my!

One of them was in even older Adûnaic. Only understanding every fifth word suggested this was a description of the exodus of Numenor after it was destroyed by Ilúvatar. Gandalf had not spent any time with that. From what Nag Kath had learned afterwards, Sauron's body was drowned along with everyone still on the island and he was relegated to spirit form.

Two camps of survivors remained in Middle-earth. The Faithful held to their belief in the Valar. The King's-men, loyal to the line that sought to invade the Undying Lands, still followed the poisoned tongue of Sauron.

They worked their way south until the King's-men were eventually forced by Gondor south of the Anduin, after the sands and wildmen of Harad wore them down, still further south. If the men of that gulf were still loyal to Sauron, Orlo would be concerned. They hadn't come north for the Ring battles. That didn't mean they didn't still harbor tools of the dark ones.

Divining the secrets of this book would take more time that mooching around Lord Éomander's library. There might be other books here as well. Nag Kath was prepared to slip it in his satchel but preferred permission.

After a while, his Lordship wandered back in. The scholars were sitting, talking about possibilities. The old boy said, "Well, did you find what you needed?"

The Elf replied, "Aye, sir, that and then some. I would like to speak to you about this book." He pointed to the volume next to the gap on the shelf.

Lord Éomander said sharply, "I gave you no leave to look at any other book. Get out of my home!" The strapping doorman came in to enforce his command.

The Elf said in his best Lord's voice, "I am charged to keep the peace of the kingdom. This book will help me. I ask you to but lend it to me until I can learn its secrets. If not, I will leave with it just the same. I am a good friend and a terrible enemy. Choose wisely."

The old man was furious but he was also a patriot. He might not have liked his odds with the imposing blonde scholar. Éomander said curtly, "Take it and go."

They did. It would take the scholars a while to parse through this one.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Information they already had was confusing too. Umbar was a puzzlement. They had an understanding with Gondor and made no military threats to the northern kingdom but they did not discourage privateers either, other than making examples of men who did not share their takings with the government. There were no ambassadors or official representatives in either realm.

The cities themselves were of classic design, becoming more Haradric over time. A superb natural harbor, it had no rivals along an otherwise exposed coastline. Sailors of the region could be found here and Penandoth intended to add a few as the last men on board. Given Nag Kath's interests below, it made sense to swing wide in the sea around Umbar rather than risk meeting corsairs nearer the shipping lanes.

The Captain knew all about corsairs. His ships both as officer and master were sleek attack vessels supporting the transport ships when pockets of pirates were found infesting the Ethir Anduin. As a younger man he had served on transports too. Most corsair vessels had both sail and oars. They could go anywhere, not as fast as pure sail but not needing it either. They rocked like corks in rough seas. The ship his employer was considering was not a likely target since it obviously would not carry much and be hard to catch. Still, if it was the only candidate, corsairs would do their worst.

The Umbari tended not to use on-deck fire-ballista since their plan was to either ram or use boarding ramps. They had to get close. Burning or sinking a ship from a distance did them no good unless the cargo floated to the surface. Umbars would shoot firebolts into the sails so you wanted yours to go further. Their archers were fair. If the Elf was ordering his Northman bows and would train half the crew to hit what they aimed at, they could do some damage shooting into the oar ports. That would only kill or injure slaves, but it was no time to be picky.

Penandoth also stopped by the Chandler's Guild. One difficulty with the closed port was that many of the things ships needed came from elsewhere. When he sailed under the Prince's flag, it was another man's problem. This was a part of his new profession he needed to hone. There were so many things a military captain took for granted. The lad Nag Kath found was from the end of sailing where you scrounged everything you used, right down to the nails.

~o~

An unmarked note from Barahir was waiting in the hand of a palace attendant when Nag Kath got back from the market. The man bowed and started to leave. "Hold a moment." Nag Kath opened the seal and read it twice before taking it to the writing desk and scribbling a comment in pencil. He gave it back to the messenger and said, "Thank you, young man."

That was confirmation that the young Lord would enjoy coming to Cal and Eniecia's home for dinner next Wednesday. They knew it was coming but not which day.

There were fourteen members of the family, all certain to attend. Grenda had to tell her daughters who else would be there which caused a frantic search for just the right apparel, none of which they currently owned. In near panic, Derissa asked Uncle Nag what must she do or say or not say. He told her to breathe.

The family was assembled. Barahir was late, but not so much that anyone was worried. That was a Princely prerogative, and it took a long time to get anywhere from the citadel. Everyone in the city wondered why the Lords did not put a more comfortable mansion in the lower bailey now that the Umbars were at terms. They could still withdraw to their fortress at need but not have to travel half a mile in the rain to see an opera.

The young lord was reintroduced or for the first time and given a goblet of what Nag Kath knew was his favorite vintage. Barahir sipped slowly, like his grand-da that way. No one in this family punished the liquor either. Dinner was still some time off so they deployed around the large main room. The former officers had a quick look outside to see a pair of tall sober men in civilian clothes quietly walking around the property.

There was no avoiding the first topic of the water blossom on the famous trip to Rohan. That was the last meeting of the great war leaders in one place. The dynasties in place today were cemented by policy and family decisions from that moot. Captain Ivandred was all for an encore but it did not come to pass.

Raniece asked, "My Lord, it was said your grandmother attended the wedding as well. She had a storied part in victory."

"Indeed, Miss Ivandred. I do not remember her but my father spoke with Meriodoc of the Shire many times. He said he stabbed the Witch-King in the leg and then Éowyn stabbed him in the face, or whatever was inside his helmet. Both of them were terribly poisoned. King Aragorn nursed them to health and that was where she met Prince Faramir, a happy story in the end."

After a while, Talienne found her voice and said, "My Lord, Uncle Nag said you are much interested in lore."

The young man turned to look directly into her eyes and said, "He knows a great deal and has helped me with historical romances."

Somehow the next Nepthat managed, "I did not know such things were written."

Very softly the man said almost as poetry, "It can only be. Greatness comes easier to those with a woman's strength to steady them."

~o~

Dinner went well. Barahir asked some questions of his own with considerable experience around the table to answer. Menalgir got to talk tactics. The older diners knew he would have been paraded in front of eligible young women since he got off the ship and that begins to grate.

At a decent hour, the Lord said his goodbyes and thanked Cal and Eniecia for a lovely evening. The two men fell in and they strolled out to the Prince's Walk for the citadel.

There was still considerable life in the night. The younger women talked to each other. Nag Kath wished Mina was with them. Several times he almost marched to her home and held her close.

When they were alone, Cal said, "Is he serious? Talienne is quite young."

"It took your cousin Tillith three years to wrap Elfwine up, and the Rohirrim don't go in for long courtships. It would take several trips here and there before anything is resolved."

Cal smiled, "Probably so. The girl will have to learn her mind first. Eniecia was a bolder lass than Talienne."

"Florin to groats she hears something before he takes the ship up the river."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The Elf was wrong, they did not hear from Barahir again before he ended his state visit. Talienne was not crestfallen. She knew he was busy and in demand. She had got to meet him twice and that was two times more than most. Imagine a man interested in old romance?!

While their betters were dining on Odar and Rosuldrië wine, Penandoth and Dal were scouring the island for the things they would need to equip a ship. The builders would manage the bolted parts like storage tanks and a galley but that did not include a stove. Stores were scarce for the coming season. Captain visited the Chandler's Guild and found a few but they were having trouble with supplies too. It was a good thing they started looking early.

Nag Kath had a few suppliers too. He sent a letter to Tumlath, Tumlen's son, asking if he could secure a list of items before folk fought over them in Pelargir.

He also sent a letter with a bank draft to Mr. Grueffan, a Dalish bowyer in Minas Tirith, ordering ten bows of middling tension along with another Dun Brethen for himself and several gross of war arrows to be sent before the spring melt. The sailors of whatever he called the ship should be able to hit more than straw bales in a bay. Penandoth had already seen to ballistas and bolts.

~o~

It was time for more money. Stores were three Florin and it would soon be time for the next payment to Stieffild. Penandoth said he had his first officer in mind and it was not too early to approach him. The man ran like a scalded dog when he heard the destination. By December, another man was engaged with a fat bonus. His recommendation for Second was good too. Second Mate Kevland had been in commercial shipping since his naval training and Penandoth did not want to have all soldiers running the ship. They were trained to destroy rather than parlay.

Finding men was not as hard as they expected. The best way to make something public is to try and keep it secret. Second Officer Kevland did the first interviews. One in three men made it to the Captain and there were enough. He had his eyes on two brothers of Harad. They were good sailors but there was no need to mention where their ship was going just yet. Captain Ivandred was ready to go, teasing, of course, but he took a man-cart to the ship after the ribs were attached and walked around the hull. Nag Kath hoped he would be here when they returned. It was also time to think about a cargo.

Their outward stocks were basically bribes. Items were mainly ordered from Osgiliath that sold to the well-off of that city and Minas Tirith. The idea was that some would have no equivalent where they went. Items were light, portable and could be doled in small quantities for favors. Wares included; a thousand fire-glasses, a hundred reading spectacles, fine, thin woolen fabrics in colors and some undyed. They had surplus swords for sale but really for right-livers if they found any that needed them. In sealed boxes were several thousand matches. Not for sale were three Syndolan rockets painted to look like table legs. Hundreds of decorative boxes were included for presents or sale.

The largest outlay was for jewelry in a wide range of quality.

In a split-decision of counselors, they added five large casks of Belfalas wine. It seemed the good wines got better in the barrel while the hearty peasant reds got worse. Ale would spoil. It wasn't from Quaille but they laid-in a crate of Southfarthing leaf just before leaving.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

In April there was a soft knock on Nag Kath's door. Glynnys was alone cleaning and opened it enough to inspect the visitor. He seemed a denizen of the quays; small, middle-aged, hunched over and dressed too warmly for the weather. With her foot wedged behind the door to keep the man from pushing in she demanded, "What is your business?"

In a curious accent he replied, "I have come at Nag Kath's request, ma'am."

She wasn't used to being called ma'am, but that was not enough to let him in the door. "He is seeing friends. You can wait on the bench."

The fellow smiled, took his pack off and made himself comfortable on the plank just outside the window. Almost two bells later, Nag Kath walked up the steps and saw the fellow sleeping against the wall. The Elf gently shook his shoulder and the fellow opened his eyes but made no other motion until looking up and saying, "You Kath?"

"That's right."

"Listracht."

Nag Kath said nothing. The man sat up straight and added in Variag, "I am but a poor follower of rightness, seeking a few coppers from the kindly."

The tall blonde chuckled, "Come in." He took the man inside and called to Glynnys, "Dear woman, can you find Mr. Listracht a cup of tea?"

She turned, somewhat surprised that the man got this far, and answered, "Certainly, Mr. Kath."

Listracht shuffled inside using a long staff against his hunched gait and looked around. He had not had many chances for bathing on his long voyage. That might make him a fine sailor but not a house-guest. The Elf asked, "Do you know about me?"

The visitor took a long pull of his tea before saying, "Some."

Nag Kath said, "Let us get you clean and fed." He turned to Glynnys, "Love, can you have Mr. Roanfinnis fetch water for the bath and have Dal attend us?"

She nodded and left to collect the block handyman.

Nag Kath walked to the kitchen and tossed over a full-sized cake of Lembas knowing it would restore what food of the road had not provided. The man ate it all.

Not five minutes later, old Mr. Roanfinnis came in with the first two of a dozen buckets and walked back to the bath by the privy. He was nearly done when Dal returned with Glynnys. The man stripped in full view of the woman, who did not seem the worse for it, and climbed in the water. Before she drew the curtain, Nag Kath noticed a few scars that would have come from the wrong end of a blade. Dal sat in his usual chair and was silent, knowing more would be revealed than the backside of Listracht. The bather splashed about and lathered singing in a soft low voice. Glynnys announced she was going to get more food. A few minutes later, a normal-sized upright man pulled the curtains back. Dal fetched a shirt, trousers and underwear from Nag Kath's room and tossed them down from the balcony.

Listracht drained the rest of his tea and said in Khandian, "Pleased to meet you. A friend from Hanvas Tur said you might like help. Shelturn was my mentor. He was poorly when I left two years ago but Chûr is doing well. He married a girl who looked just like him and their two girls do too. His hair is pure white now." Listracht's own hair had abandoned him as a young man.

The fellow put on the clothes, rolled up the trouser legs and sat on the couch.

Nag Kath said in Westron, "This is Dal. Dal finds things."

The right-liver responded in a heavily accented version of the same, "Got to have that. Pleasure to meet you, young man."

The Elf said, "Thank you for coming. That is not an easy trip."

"Your man bought the tickets. I just got on. Never been on the sea before.

~o~

They talked for two hours. Athmandal drank in every word except when they had to use Variag. Listracht was forty and originally from Kelepar but had been in Khand for years before working the Anduin, helping folk stay in touch, often as a guard for small merchant caravans.

After rehashing the Mordor campaign in what to Dal's ears was astonishing detail, Nag Kath said, "Here's what we have; Orlo left me a task, well, call it a hint. We travel to the great gulf where are said to be the last of the Numenorean followers of Sauron. I am having a ship built to take a crew down there."

Listracht stopped him, "A moment, you met Orlo, in person?"

"He came to me as a vision and gave me the key to the trolls in Pelargir. They would still be there today except some fool of a commander ordered them dug up. Finding Orlo was why I returned to the Ghurates, almost sixty years ago now."

The Righter had heard his share of Nag Kath stories. He asked, "If you are a wizard, shouldn't you be frightening?"

"I am self-taught. Getting to the point, what I am thinking for the south will be a more leisurely version of Mordor. We go down, see if there are any artifacts of power remaining of the Yvsuldor and destroy them."

Dal was agog. This was a good time to be somewhere else but he decided he would stay with the Elf and see what came of it. Listracht grinned, "Good! When do we leave?"

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Nag Kath put him in the spare room downstairs. Glynnys almost didn't recognize him standing tall in decent clothes, which meant the shambling beggar disguise worked. He had others at need. One of his first introductions was to Opher. Meeting a rank-and-file Righter from Sauron's back porch was interesting.

In May the crew was hired and waiting for the ship. Nag Kath taught some the rudiments of archery. A few men had shot in their training and Bosun Iberníeg was good. He got the stiffest of the ten Northman bows.

No one spoke Sindarin, or whatever it had become beyond the horizon. Nag Kath taught them a few simple phrases but this was not going to be a project. He did spend time with his scholars to decipher the Numenorean book they extorted from Lord Éomander. That was eye-opening. The writers over at least a hundred years chronicled the King's-Men's exodus southward through their holdings in Middle-earth. Folk forgot that they ran most of the areas western men lived now. More accurately; many of the western men here today were of that migration.

It was a harsh time as comforts they knew for an age were sunk beneath angry seas. Kings came, went and often fought while here. In Numenor before the disaster, Lords would embrace and disdain Adûnaic and Sindarin depending sympathies to Sauron or Eru respectively. This lot was firmly in the dark Lord's camp. Eventually the scholars made sense of it and copied it for themselves and Nag Kath. Titles and speech patterns alone were priceless.

When that was done, he returned the book to Lord Éomander himself. The imposing retainer opened the door and stared down the step at the Elf who said, "I have come to return this. Please thank your master for its use."

The Lord himself had only been in the next room. As Nag Kath turned to leave, he called, "Hey, you, a moment!"

The Elf turned and watched the old boy come down the steps, both feet on one before the next. Reaching the gravel he walked up to Nag Kath and said, "I asked about you. It seems you are one of the good ones."

"I hope so, sir. Sorry I was so insistent."

"You did what you had to. Retain our honor where you go." With that he was off and his man closed the door with a stare.

As the men fared their women goodbye, he realized that leaving Mina was no different than every other man with a sweetheart. He did hope she would be here when he returned. It seemed to take forever but as July began, Nag Kath paid the last fifth and the Swan Breeze was his. The first exercise was seeing to all the gear. Sailors know to put everything back but it has to start there first. The Elf stayed out of the way. By the fifteenth, they were ready for the maiden cruise. Penandoth ordered her cast off and they tacked against the wind out of the White Harbor and into the Belegaer. There was a pair of leaks below-decks, one serious. Crewman Lanislogen stuffed it with oakum and it would hold until the seam could be pitched back at the dock.

She was a lot like ships these men had sailed their whole lives. Knots were wrong. Short-cuts were needed without a large, military crew. Things were not to hand, but overall, they could sail her.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~