Chapter 42
Thân zîrân
The maps Far Harad and Coastal Haradwaith are helpful here. Im gur period com/gallery/jHPlDU8
~o~
Each day, the land got greener with fields and pastures. There were more horses. The country was at least as large as Rohan with some fair-sized towns and even cities along the road. Every day, a messenger in government livery rode past them at their same speed unless hailed by the Prince's Lieutenant for tidings. It looked more like Ithilien by the step. The port was the westernmost point of the realm. On the fifth afternoon they turned a hilly corner to look on the actual capital of the nation. It was the closest he had seen to pictures of Annúminas.
The city wrapped around a jewel of a deep-blue lake starting the Bozisha River making for the port. The escort never slowed and wound up a path to what could only be the palace. At a side-gate they were met by men in palace soldier's livery and told to follow on foot.
The interior looked nothing like the coastal buildings. They fancied themselves Numenorean. These were like renderings of the King Aragorn's summer capital with precisely cut blocks and angles. The only difference was that the local stone was more tan than charcoal. The guards said no more than the troopers except not to leave a comfortable room with east-facing windows. It was early afternoon. Nag Kath sat by one of the windows and sketched the view over the lake. Yet again; another nice place.
Were they trying to make it Orthanc? Five thousand years is long enough to forget what it is to feed children to orcs. These people had carved out a lovely little country in the middle of a desert. As a former Uruk, Nag Kath could make a good case they didn't want any like him. Dark Lords need a lot of expendable soldiers too. Who of the farmers they saw would volunteer?
Food was brought, this time with wine. It was mostly meat so Nag Kath nibbled on Lembas and let the always starving Listracht eat both portions. After dinner, what they took to be a senior attendant came to their quarters and opened the door without knocking. The man said they would be brought to the council room after breakfast and should prepare.
Preparing wouldn't amount to more than getting dressed so Listracht tried to sleep and Nag Kath sat by the window watching bats. Breakfast was early and featured the same porridge served the world around. There was meat, fruit and a green that had been boiled. A new attendant entered and led them to the council.
For most men, meeting the lords of a land one intended to harm froze the blood. Nag Kath wasn't bothered at all and the hardened Righter was ready for the task. They were tougher customers than these Black Numenoreans suspected. It was understood that Nag Kath would improvise and Listracht would nod and bow.
The Prince was already in the room beside four men in somber dress with a woman wearing the fabled worm-cloth in matching colors. Did she have power? The visitors bowed to the assembly and remained standing until King Ar-Gimilzôr arrived for another bow and took his place at the head of a horseshoe table on a dais. The two men were seated at a lower table facing the King.
~o~
The sailors' objective was simple. They needed a look at whatever these people thought could place them in touch with the exiled Ainu Melkor. Neither was particularly concerned about the governance of Miraz. It did not seem a black state nor had they contributed anything in the war.
The King looked sixty by western measure. The Righters gathered from those in port that men of this bloodline often lived to be in their early hundreds. Nag Kath noticed a slight shake in his left hand but the man's voice was clear and strong when he said, "Sirs, ma'am, we are gathered here because a servant of Melkor has grown in strength. These northern men are said to access it. They are here to explain this to us."
Nag Kath translated that for Listracht. That wasn't necessary since what the lords said had almost nothing to do with their purpose. Translations were strategy and sometimes they needed a pause to consider answers. None of the council seemed annoyed.
Nag Kath said out of turn, "Sirs, ma'am, I brought a gift for His Highness, much like the one I gave your esteemed representative in Bozisha-Dur."
With that he produced another ornate box. The King nodded to his personal attendant who took it and gave it to his Lord. This dagger was less Dwarvish and more in the old Numenorean style. With time to prepare, they thought these gifts would be most appreciated by those long and far from their imagining. The King unsheathed it and slowly followed the lines from tip to butt. Gently putting it in the scabbard he said, "Please thank your Lord for this thoughtful gesture."
The Prince would ask the questions, "Mr. Solvanth, you said before that this stone is a device of the Angmarach used to seek kindred spirits, yes?"
Nag Kath corrected him slightly, "These are made by his adherents in Mordor, though, I know not how or if they are imbued with sorcery. Perhaps one in a thousand mortals in the west can further his search." Fishing for more on the Witch-King he added, "It is said there is a master talisman undiscovered that retains his spirit, even though he is now long dead."
Tarquin held the stone now and wondered, "And when you used this in my presence, you said it drained you, that this had been stronger?"
"Yes, yes sir. I am not one of the adepts. Most of the time, I feel only the empty search. This time was different, possibly it found something. In keeping with Yvsuldor guidance, we of the world are not Arbiters of the results." Nag Kath explained that to Listracht who was doing his best faithful servant impression. This was the Elf's quest but the man was a senior right-living fighter and would see this through even if Nag Kath fell.
"The woman spoke, "And your reason for coming was to bring your Lord's quest to our shores?"
"No ma'am. The service of Yvsuldor is not lucrative. My father sent me here to trade goods. That I am of the quiet-ones helped find backers for the journey, but we knew nothing of your society other than that you come from the most lordly of fathers and might speak the old language."
Heuldarn, Elf-Friend, was concerned with here and now, "Are you prepared to demonstrate this … illusion to the council?"
"I am, sir, though the last time it took all my strength. I could not do that again and repeat it more than every other day." It was time for another probe. He spoke briefly with his servant and continued, "I had not felt that before. It may have to do with how close I am to the being or talisman My Lord seeks."
The Prince was hoping the charlatan would be dismissed out-of-hand but his father said, "We would see this claim, then decide if it should be pursued."
Nag Kath studied their eyes until the Prince told him, "Mr. Solvanth, please demonstrate as you did for me."
~o~
The trader's son and his man spoke briefly back and forth, with some emotion on both parts. Then the tall blonde man put his hand on his servant's shoulder and nodded that this must be done. He took the stone from Tarquin in his right hand. Returning to his table, he held the object in front of him. It began to glow faintly silver and slowly built to considerably less than the Prince had seen until it flashed much brighter for a moment and faded. Nag Kath made sure they all felt something. The council watched the trader's son stagger slightly and place the rock on his small table before holding the table's edge with both hands. Lowering his head, he closed his eyes. Finally, he rose to his full height looking somewhat groggy.
Listracht was the picture of concern, hoping the Elf would not crack into his famous grin and give the game away. He was not a good Dukks player! The woman asked, "What manner of power came to you?"
"As … as before … muh … muh … mam."
She continued, "And the surge?"
The stunned trader looked at his aide and translated the question. After a long response, he turned to her and said, "I am sorry, My Lady. I see only the color." A dribble of spit was wiped with a sleeve.
Heuldarn, Elf-Friend, demanded, "We should go now to a place where this might be effective!"
Nag Kath was tempted to plead exhaustion but knew cooler heads would prevail. One of the Lords to the King's left said, "Sir, the man said he needed a short time to replenish himself. Perhaps we should grant him such grace."
The woman agreed, "Yes Minister, we have been patient. With his Lordship's leave we shall remain so."
Nag Kath started talking with Listracht, this time in earnest, "We just bought two days' time. Let us have a look at this mystery so I can prepare my next summoning." Again, the grin was only just behind his grave face. They went on longer than a high council should expect to be excluded. An instant before they were reminded they were in the presence of a King, the Elf offered, "Sirs, ma'am, it would help me to visit the place you have in mind before the summoning. I could do that tomorrow, providing it is not far away."
~o~
In Dukks, he had placed a challenge wager. Thus far, Nag Kath had followed the flow all the way from Dol Amroth. If this Kingly lot wanted more from him, they could show good faith. They seemed to know that. The King nodded to Heuldarn who said, "That is wise. Tomorrow at this time you will be taken there."
Then the King nodded to his son that the foreigners could be escorted back to their room and one of the door guards was told to do so. An attendant was instructed by the Prince and joined the unsteady visitor in the hall. Walking towards their room the man said, "You must remain in your room again. Food will be brought to you."
The blonde gentleman translated that for his servant and, as rehearsed, the servant asked the attendant in Khandian, "My master would be better served outside in fresh air. Is that permitted?"
The man drew a blank. So they didn't speak Variag here. Good. Servant Listracht told his master his question and the attendant was told, "He asked if I could be outside some of the day for fresh air."
The fellow was not in a position to countermand his instructions but said he would enquire. Nag Kath continued to drag around their room in case there were peepholes, drinking tea, using the chamber-pot and generally looking meek. Within half a bell, the attendant was back saying he would take them to a garden. Two guards were with him to make sure they stayed there until returning directly back here. Listracht grabbed the satchel as Nag Kath shuffled down a floor and out open doors to a pleasant royal garden of flowers and herbs. The guards stayed by the doors and the two foreigners went to the stone rail that dropped off two dozen feet to tended walks.
They sat in two chairs and looked over the lake. A servant brought a pitcher of cool tea, bowed and left. Listracht took a sip said, "This dark lord business has its advantages. Florins to groats this lot has never seen bubbling mud at Orodruin."
The feeble Yvsuldor had sip of his own tea and said, "You do not know what you have until it is gone?"
The Righter asked, "Umhumm. What do you make of the council?"
"These are the lads who want to turn a long-held card over, particularly the one to our left. I think they think they have some tool but know not how to employ it. My plan is no different. I am not expected to make anything of it tomorrow but I should feel something if it is there, and I got no sense that any of them had power. The right-living woman in port probably did."
"From the same school of charm as this one."
Nag Kath sighed in his observed distress, "The King kept his cards close. I think he wants to tickle the fates. What do you make of the Prince?"
"It would help if I could understand them, but I don't think he has a rat in the fight. If he rode all the way here to tell da, he isn't staking claims for himself downriver."
The Elf said, "There is a sadness there, not anger but loss. That is not what dark lords look for in their servants. I think we need to stay close to him."
Listracht muttered, "Aye; if only because he probably commands those pig-boats on the island. I am no naval fighter but we will want them waving goodbye. How much more power do you have compared to that little flame exhibition with the galley?"
Nag Kath considered, "Some, and we have those Syndolan rockets too."
Listracht grumbled, "That is not a holiday in my lands."
"It is a fire I do not have to cast. Any man can light a match and send it far. It is better for terror and confusion than real damage but it will get people's attention."
"And?"
"That bringing spell is more powerful over water. I can make the right men jump overboard from a fair distance, and I am a fair hand with the bow."
Listracht added thoughtfully, "We can just bribe them too. The Righters can help. They have gotten soft with no pursuit but they seem dedicated."
"The little girl is the best among them."
They sat in the sun until it began to fade behind the palace and walked to the door. A fresh set of guards fell in and took them to their room. Listracht slept, Nag Kath took his rest and watched the moon with his thoughts.
~o~
~o~o~o~
~o~
Well after breakfast, Heuldarn the Elf-Friend came with four guards. Not a word was exchanged until the company left the palace and continued north past the palace. It was a forest of small waterfalls noisily making their way to the lake. The next stream was protected by a very old, very stout gate. Admitted, they arrived near a larger waterfall to find the woman of the council and one of the three other Ministers already there. None of them nodded or smiled.
Heuldarn said in a commanding tone, "You are here at the sufferance of Ar-Gimilzôr the Great. You will see what you had best not remember. Am I clear?"
Nag Kath nodded and translated for his servant adding, "I think this is our Uvuo." It was Listracht's mentor Shelturn who slipped a knife into the High Visitor's heart in Mordor. It also meant what they remembered would not matter if they were destined for the same fate. Listracht knew the Elf could cut every throat with the men's own knives but that was the escape plan, not the objective.
The woman asked as she would a groom about a pack horse, "Are you sufficiently recovered, Mr. Solvanth?"
He smiled anyway, "I am myself again, ma'am, but still feeble to the great lord's purpose."
Heuldarn asked, "Do you see the frame against that cliff-ledge?" He pointed to two stout stone columns holding an oval steel frame measuring perhaps two feet on the long dimension. He put it about eighty feet away on the other side of a chasm reached by a crafted stone bridge. There were no rails or curbs but the span was still much roomier than the walks in Rivendell.
Nag Kath made a show of shielding his eyes from the sun and told Listracht where he was looking.
The woman, who must be of the bring-Melkor-back contingent, said, "That is the portal. Go there and make what you can of it. The two men walked over the bridge to the frame followed by one of the guards. It was damp with the mist of a pleasant waterfall in the prevailing breeze. What he first took to be steel had the same gloss as his pocket-knife. This was mithril, about two inches thick, solid or plated he could not say. Rapping it with his knuckles gave no hint but it made the band vibrate like a fork smacked against the table.
~o~
There was power here, terrible power. Gandalf said Morgoth was consigned to vastness but not where it was. The Elf's first impression was that it was deep in the heavens over the Undying Lands. She called it a portal, port-hole? … as in a side-hatch? He held his hand in front of the opening and the power increased. He walked around the back. It was just air but strangely, he did not feel the energy on this side. Nag Kath thought better of putting his arm through. He did open his quill-knife. It did not change color but it seemed to sense the malice.
Knowing more than appeared was one of Nag Kath's abiding talents. Inspecting the frame as if buying a used man-cart, he said conversationally to Listracht in Khandian, "It resonates, as if tuned like the big harps in Belfalas. The scratches were filed one at a time to create the right note, for summoning perhaps. I don't think this thing was meant to be held in place by these rocks. It would kill the vibrations. Odd they would not have figured that out themselves.
"They think Morgoth is waiting past this window into the great emptiness. I feel power here, weak, but unlike any in my experience. This has to be destroyed."
Listracht held his chin and observed, "Stout rocks, Nag, steel too."
"That's mithril, maybe for power, maybe to keep it from rusting. Either way, I'd wager a night with one of your Khandian beauties that they can't make these anymore."
"That is no fair, master."
"My favorite way to play. Your addled charge found nothing untoward. We make back to the palace for a boring evening and plan a little Catanard for tomorrow. One thing for sure, this Elf-Friend dies, probably his King too. Keep an eye on the nearest sword at all times."
"I always do."
Nag Kath looked at the cliffs above them for a moment and nodded to the soldier who had stood right by them before returning across the bridge to the waiting Ministers. He took a long look at the cliff ledge above before saying, "A curious monument. It did not speak to me." Yawning, the indolent trader added, "Perhaps we shall see what the Angmarach instructs."
They walked back to the palace sure the Elf-friend would push them down the cliff as soon as their usefulness was over.
~o~
~o~o~o~
~o~
The evening wasn't as tedious as feared. The King had an entertainment scheduled with dancers, singers and musicians. An attendant told them they were invited and took them there without a guard.
On one end of the range, it might be a ribald melodrama with trained dogs. This was the other end. A harpist, flautist and man with small brass cymbals played a soft, melodic strain. Both male and female singers joined in with tones but not words. Three women in flowing garments of the worm-cloth began gracefully twirling and bending in rhythm. It seemed an awakening of some sort.
Nag Kath was more interested in the faces. They were seated well away from the important personages but he didn't mind a look at the everyday gentry. They were a fair people, slightly taller than the average Gondorans but not those of Dol Amroth. Women were allowed to come and were all dressed very modestly.
After the opening, the dancers left and the musicians began a courtly tune. Singers came in with an epic poem in Adûnaic. It was long. Nag Kath thought it was of their travels to this idyll away from care. Some older members of the audience mouthed the words. Even here there seemed to be a schism between the Adûnaic and Sindarin types. If he got the chance, he would throw a little Quenya on the table and see who picked it up.
The closing piece brought the dancers back. This was more sensuous. They had Listracht's attention, and no error. Elf eyes could see the faces of the dancers. They were subtly conveying the hope of intimacy. It was well done, but the Elf was sure Melkor's adherents wouldn't arrive sleepy tomorrow after wearing out their mattresses.
On the way back Listracht asked, "What did you make of that?"
"They remind themselves of past glory. The musicians had to talk among themselves before the Saying Poem so that wasn't one they play every time. Someone slipped that in for the patriots."
List asked the air, "I wonder what the girl in green is doing after the show."
~o~
The next morning was the same as the last only this time the King and Prince were there with five Ministers and half a company of pike-men. Heuldarn handed him the bilge-stone.
"How may I serve?"
"Take it over there and see what occurs."
The Elf told Listracht to remain and crossed the bridge. Standing near the frame he pulled the slightest color test that could be seen among the viewers. The frame responded subtly. This was more the drawing of energy than the making of it, like the Pukel-Men. He could fool these people all day long but whoever built this knew their craft.
Wandering back over the bridge as if he had done no more than check baking loaves, Nag Kath came as close as he dared to the King and bowed, "I felt something near. May I ask what My Lord hopes to achieve?"
Heuldarn said, "You may not."
"Very well. What are your instructions?"
Why did this insouciant trader have to pose such impossible questions? How would they know what he was supposed to do? This portal had been here for two thousand years and every King since they claimed this wretched gulf had pondered the omens asking the same thing! With no born sorcerers of their own, this was as close as they had gotten to waking the device, except for the occasional bursts trespassers received by straying too close.
Heuldarn looked at his liege and stared at Solvanth, "Go back and try again."
The Elf thought; fair enough, but let us put your skinny backside on the drawing line as well. Nonchalantly, Nag Solvanth asked, "I could, but what if I am not the vessel? Are you sure you want me as the new Lord King?"
~o~
Lord Elf-Friend was about to disdain another impossible question. How could someone so stupid create such befuddlement? Ar-Gimilzôr knew it was time. He was not dispensing justice to cheating merchants. This was the hour of Lordship after a lifetime of preparation. He pronounced as ruler of the land, "We will go there now and see what our ancestors decreed!"
The King boldly strode across the bridge with Heuldarn and the Prince in tow. Nag Kath followed but gave Listracht the slightest hand signal to stay. The waterfall seemed louder with the blood pounding in his ears. He lit the stone with a prepared confusion spell rather than the color-test. It flashed in the King's face. Everyone saw it. Ar-Gimilzôr seemed stunned for a moment and then turned and started walking back to his waiting courtiers across the bridge. Heuldarn followed to see the trouble and the Prince was just behind them leaving Nag Kath next to the portal.
The Elf switched from confusion to a bringing spell and drove the Elf-Friend into the back of his King. Not knowing what to make of the surge towards his ruler, the man raised his hands to hold and steady Ar-Gimilzôr. From the gathering it looked like he grabbed the man. The pair shuffled a few steps before Nag Kath pushed them both over the ledge into the chasm.
The next bit was untried. Though he did not learn the spell from Gandalf, Bilbo wrote all those long years ago that the wizard split a boulder to let the rising sun shine on the three trolls now frozen in stone on the East/West Road. As if raising his arm in anguish, he tried to loosen the most precarious rock above him. It didn't budge. It took a second theatrical bringing spell with both hands to topple the modest stone. He was scurrying over the bridge as it smashed the portal.
When rock collided with metal, a blast of energy fired in the direction of the assembly. They felt something but were otherwise unaffected. Nag Kath was thrown about twenty feet and skidded to a stop in the dirt. No one noticed. They were staring at the broken body of Ar-Gimilzôr forty feet below. The King of Miraz, properly named Thân zîrân, was lying face-up with his neck at an unnatural angle. The Elf-Friend landed much further down.
The Prince was King. A lot of kings would have the incompetent sorcerer and his servant tossed down their deepest pit but no one seemed to blame them for what was obviously the late King's decision to abandon this sorcery, followed by the Elf-friend's enraged treachery. Tarquin looked at his father, gave a vicious stare at the broken portal and turned back to his da before ordering, "Have father brought up for proper mourning and burial. Leave the other."
He stalked towards the Palace followed by everyone but the gasping trader and his servant. After the retinue rounded the corner, Listracht pulled merchant Solvanth from the dust saying, "It has been a pleasure to work with you Nag Kath. Shelturn said you pulled the same strings in Mordor but I didn't really believe it until now. Why didn't you heave the lad over too?"
"He stays. I suspect he will be a good ruler, and most likely to give us horses when his da is under the bier."
"Hmmm, I suppose so. What now?"
The Elf was a bit unstable after the blast but was not sure why since everyone else hardly noticed. He gathered himself and said, "Let us get breakfast."
Always ready for a meal, Listracht agreed, "Spoken like a true leader."
~o~
~o~o~o~
~o~
Ten minutes behind the news sweeping the city, guards let them pass without question. Men saw the two walk up. Now they were back. Being infidel foreigners, they wandered aimlessly about the disordered palace making note of who stayed where. Finally, a captain of guards told them to repair to their quarters.
Late in the evening, Nag Kath stole out and found his way to Tarquin's suite. The new King had not yet assumed his father's rooms. The man woke an hour before dawn. From a chair on the far side of the chamber he heard the Elf-Lord voice, "Sorry about your da."
"Solvanth?"
"Among other names. That was a door he was not to open."
The man sat up in his bed and lit a candle with one of the fire-sticks that were all the rage in port. "You planned this all along."
From the darkness, "No, I followed the stream. There was power there, terrible power. Your people have forgotten just how terrible. I have not."
Tarquin asked without fear, "Are you here to finish this job?"
"Aye, but not how you think. I believe you would be a fair king of a fair land. Everything I claimed is exactly false. Western countries after the war are much like yours. You should speak to them, trade with them, find good people scraped-off along the way here. I will help you do that, if you can trust me just a little."
Tarquin asked "What are you?"
"I am the last of my kind. Not a very capable merchant, I will grant you, but an honest servant of honest lords. I will return to my room before the light. Settle your father with honor and send for me. We have much to discuss, King Tarquin."
"And then what?"
He was gone.
~o~
~o~o~o~
~o~
Numenoreans give their rulers a grand farewell. It used to be more like two hundred years between them but now merely seventy. King Tarquin made it clear that the two guests had access to anywhere they wanted and both of them attended Ar-Gimilzôr's rites, half in Adûnaic, half Sindarin. He was interred in a cemetery outside the city with twenty one former kings. His bier had already been carved and stored. Priests droned incantations of their confused understandings. Tarquin was crowned the next day.
It was nearly a week before a senior attendant came to collect the visiting merchants. Like Aragorn, the new King preferred a private office for business when he did not have to publicly judge from on high. Nag Kath and Listracht bowed deeply and were shown to seats. Tea was brought. Tarquin looked at his reflection in the mug for a moment and said, "It is done. I cannot say I wanted this. My father was dear to me. But I would have you know the council was divided on whether to pursue the reckoning or leave things as they are. You have decided that for us, wisely, I think."
The Elf translated that for Listracht. The Khandian asked Nag Kath to say something to the new King which came out as; "Sir, we did not come looking for Morgoth. Fell and powerful as he was, we really did seek remnants of Sauron's darkest servant. The things we claimed to embrace we seek to destroy. My friend Listracht has been a soldier against such evil in a line that goes back nearly two thousand years, quietly keeping the dark ones from unleashing unspeakable torment on people who deserve better."
Nag Kath nodded to the Righter that it was said and added on his own, "Now, that portal was a nasty piece of work. I have experience with such sorcery, though not as intense. It could easily poison mortals who came too close. People would become confused and bitter or angry for no seeming reason. Listracht and I will remain to help them know peace, if they can be found."
The King leaned back in his tall chair. A tear fell down one cheek. Yes, he had taken her to the most sacred of his father's places, guards knowing not to interfere with the heir's amusement. After their passion, the fair lass put her hand through the frame and took it out giggling, her forest spirit pure and immune to the wrath of men.
Now she crept around her prison stalking those who stole her every thought.
One tear was all he allowed. The King of Thân zîrân stood and said, "Sirs, I have one more errand for you in your search for peace. Please come with me."
~o~
They trooped out the door. A chamberlain was standing with his next appointment but a quick shake of the head told the man it had to wait. Guards fell in as they made their way to the northern palace gate and walked fully a mile around the breathtaking blue jewel.
They were admitted immediately as a stout, middle-aged woman presented herself with a bow. Tarquin said gently, "These gentlemen are here to attend her Highness. Where is she?"
"In the summer-room Your Highness. I will take you. The home was of several levels separated by half staircases. Doors to all but a few rooms and pantries were removed. What should have been a lovely garden was barred both up the wall and across the top.
The matron brought them to a pleasant room where a fair woman of about thirty sat in a large rocking chair with her feet underneath her. She looked over her shoulder in neither fear nor curiosity. Then she resumed staring out the grated window.
Nag Kath seemed to glow as he walked towards her. He did not frighten her the way all the physicians and healers had before. The Elf took her hand and she did not resist. At other times she could be animated and restless. All will was broken.
Without need of the 'fast', he gently put his right hand against the side of her face and his slid his left up to her wrist. Then he jerked them away sharply and backed away several feet. Silver light hit her in the chest as she looked up at him before doubling in excruciating pain. A fine mist of pure black swirled around her for a moment and vanished. She screamed. He caught her before she hit the floor.
Princess in his arms, he asked the matron, "Where is My Lady's chamber." They were all led there. Placing her on the bed he rose and said, "I have only done that once before. It may be days before we see the result. With your permission, sir, I will stay here until she wakes."
Tarquin nodded to the matron and put his hand on the Elf's shoulder before leaving with his men for pressing duties below. Nag Kath was sitting on the side of the bed holding the woman's pale wrist. He was tired. He inaccurately assumed this was like the lostorin poisonings. Slapped away as if a fly, his second effort was the spell Gandalf used on him and he used on the orc to drive darkness from flesh.
That was a pure black aura, no green for lesser demons. So that was the color of Morgoth! Was one of his vile weapons driving people mad?! Was simply killing them not enough? More likely she was too insignificant to notice.
The Elf stood and said in Sindarin to the waiting matron, "She will sleep for some time. If and when she rises, she will be hungry and confused. I am Nag Kath and this is Listracht. While we sit vigil, can you attend food and beds? We will need someone fleet of foot to tell the King if she stirs."
The woman said, "We were about to have lunch in the next room. I hope that will serve."
~o~
That would serve Listracht fine. They followed the woman into the small dining area. The Khandian ate. Nag Kath slept in a chair. It was dark when he woke. Listracht was sleeping next to him and one of the chambermaids was on a stool by the Princess. The Elf stretched and sauntered over to feel her pulse. She would not take as long as the orc. Sure the chambermaid would not leave until ordered; he sat across the room and watched as well.
After breakfast, Listracht was padding around the mansion in his stocking feet. The matron found him new socks and, hopefully, burned his. Nag Kath pulled from his rest and felt the blood in the young woman's neck. She turned away and made a small moan. He asked for the matron who appeared within the minute, "Ma'am, I think the Princess is waking. If the Prin … King's love sustained her before her illness, it would be best if he was here to welcome her."
One of the guards was dispatched at a dead run. It was still an hour before Tarquin arrived with a mounted half-troop. Without ceremony, he approached the bed where Nag Kath was sitting with the matron and chambermaid. The Elf looked up and said, "Sir, I think you should be where I am" and relinquished his seat.
The King took her hand and waited patiently. A quarter-bell later, she blinked twice and turned to him saying in a panic, "Dearest, where did you go?! I have been looking so long!"
"I am here now, Tanûerv. You have found me."
That was a bit too sentimental for the Righter so he and the physician eased back to the dining area and left the lovebirds to mutter soft words long enough that cook produced an array of cold meats, cheese, and fruit for the ever-famished soldier. Nag Kath still ate delicately. The spell was much easier than the first of its kind but still pulled from deep reserves.
The King finally convinced his bride that she was well and introduced Dr. Solvanth who had restored her after her illness. She hardly saw him. Listracht went back to the palace with the retinue while the good doctor took another nap in the chair.
~o~
~o~o~o~
~o~
It was another few days before the travelers were called to the King's office. The man showed the strain. It might not be long before other white hairs joined the shock at his widow's peak. He managed a smile and said, "I thank you for your touch, sirs, and apologize for my inattention. Tell me, what happens now?"
The Elf answered, "I think, sir, that I should stay to explain the larger world awaiting you while Mr. Listracht returns to the port so our crew does not fret needlessly. They are honest sailors and not involved in this conspiracy."
King Tarquin agreed, "Granted. I will assign riders with the daily messenger. They leave at dawn, Mr. Listracht. I cannot thank you enough. Mr. Solvanth, I look forward to our conversations. Please attend me tomorrow after your fellow is safely on his way."
~o~
They spoke two or three hours almost every day for two months. Early on, Nag Kath did most of the talking because he had been almost everywhere and virtually no news seeped into the gulf. The Elf explained what Miraz had barely missed and the horrors of Mordor, hoping there were no more portals built along the King's-men's route. He did say he must take the metal frame with him. Maybe Golord could melt it into something pretty. Mithril is tough but the rock from above dented it out of shape. Hopefully that upset the resonance.
King Tarquin was most amazed by what the west had become. Despite the centuries of isolation, they were quite similar. Since he was the world's foremost amateur diplomat, Nag Kath suggested the King send an ambassador back to the northern lands to fairly represent their country. At least one whole session was spent on who else lived inside the gulf. There were Haradrim along the northern shore. Nag Kath had met some of them. A different sort of Southron, the Harad-khir lived along the south. They were the slightly orc-faced men who believed only in a single Vala piloting the sun, stars and moon. Absurd on the face of it, but they kept to themselves. Almost a week was spent with the correct version of the Valar and Maiar. The Elf was admittedly a poor student of those beings but it was better than here.
The King did not mention that the messenger in Listracht's party carried instructions not to interfere with the foreigner's ship and escort them to the edge of their waters at the second pinch point.
One fascinating conversation with one of the King's counselors was that the lands due east had their own huge gulf or sea. There was some trade since the fertile part of Miraz extended another hundred leagues in that direction and so did the growing fields of those people towards them. Churgash, they called themselves. Chey, perhaps? Nag Kath collected a variety of their goods and spoke to traders who plied that route.
The Princess was physically recovered but only made slow, daily progress towards remembering. Clarity spells seemed to help when she would let him touch her. She was a sweet, fair thing who had not aged much in her possession. He saw her every other day at her home. The King visited often as well. One morning she seemed particularly pleased. Good! This place needed heirs!
~o~
The Elf would have been glad to spend years here but stayed only long enough for the worm-wool season. He took long rides into the countryside sketching the hills and buildings. On one of his rides inland, Nag Kath got a bag of Coloma fruit. They were orange in color with a tough hide. Inside the fruit divided into smile-shaped pieces that were both sweet and sour. They would not keep, but he saved a handful of the seeds.
Not quite three months after leaving the port for the capital, Nag Kath rode with Ambassador Taj-Velindir, his man and half a dozen troopers along the same stations back to the ship. They spoke quite a bit on the five day ride, especially about the sea and the Swan Breeze. With only one Ambassador and an assistant, capitals of the west would have to share him.
Taj-Velindir stayed at the palace while Nag Kath made sense of the jumble his sailors created in their port of exile. Penandoth was still strict but that would only go so far. The first order of business was Kath Baths and showing their females the door. To the outrage of local merchants, a large supply of the worm-wool was prepared especially for them in exchange for whatever they had on board, including the swords. Nag Kath picked out some nice pieces of jewelry for Her Highness and sent earrings to the Ice Princess in the local mansion. There was no reason to go up there again except to collect Taj-Velindir so the ship was made ready as soon as the fabric was loaded along with raiding the markets of things the crew thought they could sell at a profit. Since the cargo was light and small, Crewman Soldient made a third private cabin for the Ambassador. Other than small boats around the capital lake, neither of them had ever sailed before. Second mate rolled his eyes. The prisoner Voulshuh decided he liked it here just fine and would stay.
They had been in quiet contact with the right-livers about the changing of the guard. They must still be vigilant. Nothing had been accomplished with the Witch-King except learning his name. It was good to foil the bigger fish, who may not have known any of this in his desolation, making Nag Kath all the gladder he hadn't reached through the portal when it was intact.
The little girl was quite pretty in addition to the luck she brought.
~o~
~o~o~o~
~o~
They pushed off the dock on December eighteenth. The days had kept getting longer and warmer their whole stay.
There was a concern they did not know:
The Prince called off his navy but no one mentioned that to the merchant Hu-Cirandal. He had plans for the impressive cargo and the ship itself. Neither of them would be saleable in these waters but friends of friends along the northern coasts had friends of their own. When he learned that these men were under the new King's protection, it was too late to send word to the corsairs. They could take their chances when the escorts dropped off.
One of the galleys was seconded to stay close. Winds were mostly against them. They would swing wide to each direction and cross the rowed galley in the middle. It took eight days to reach the first pinch point leaving the Bay of Tulwang. The galley stayed with them until they were well clear into more open water and then waved goodbye.
Ambassador Taj-Velindir got his sea legs in a few days but Mr. Hurandûth was green as a turtle, even in the lightly slapping waves of the inland waterway. Penandoth turned fifteen degrees to port at the point and made for the tighter straits where they had trouble the last time.
They had trouble again. Captain kept the ship nearer the southern fingers of those lands but three huraughs and the same galley with a burn striped across the middle were waiting for them. The choice was to wait, fight or outrun them back to Miraz. It would be near a full moon tonight, good enough visibility to see their tan sails. Corsairs had the advantage of the wind. So far, they were waiting. The Swan Breeze had the advantage of speed, but that was lost if they got too near the coastline. Their next tack was north and it was time. That brought them closer to the galley.
She was an older style with an underwater prow spike made to gut a ship at ramming speed. They really had to catch a broadside for that to work. It was more for fleet battles where not all ships could get out of the way. They also had ballista and fire-arrows. The huraughs were another story. They were coastal freight boats fast enough to be converted for piracy. Fully crewed, they might have twenty men aboard, more than needed to sail and shoot a modest compliment of ballista or arrows.
Penandoth held course north-northwest until he got closer to the islands they remembered off the tip with the idea that the pursuers would have to spread out maintaining their curtain.
He got what he wanted. The plan was to take the middle ship head-on knowing they had the speed and armaments to punch through and run. Bowmen were ready with the shields mounted on the starboard side for when they made the sharp turn to the southwest. It would take them close to the galley. They could hear the drummer calling the beat. It increased. They could not reach the Swan but they could keep her from turning due south.
The corsairs thought themselves out of range when a man on the fo'c'tle caught an arrow in the gut. Two of five more arrows hit one man in the chest and another in the thigh. Before long, more archers started shooting at the oar holes. Not many got in but those hurt every time. With one side pulling harder than the other, the galley started veering to the south.
The Captain of the middle huraugh couldn't tell what the galley was doing. What came next was unfair. Nag Kath had mounts made for the Syndolan rockets so they could shoot slightly up and across the water. One of Gandalf's silver sparklers raced across the chop and over the heads of the Haradrim. The next was one of the red Nazgûl rockets that smacked into the side. It did no real damage but put the crew into a blind panic. At their angle, either they turned hard south and licked their wounds or held course and hoped the galley would arrive in time to pinch them in. Swan Breeze Archers turned their fire towards the huraugh. Those and ballista bolts took a couple men from the force. The Harad Captain decided he did not want to get any closer to this vessel and called the helmsman to make due south at once.
The Swan had taken a direct hit from a fire-ballista that singed the rear sail but that was the extent of the damage. They had a spare. One man lost a thumb caught in the capstan after a sharp tack. From here it was another five days in the westernmost bay with the strange-legged fish until making the turn into the Belegaer.
They returned the same way they came but had to fight the wind and their own winter most of the way. Nat Kath thought it interesting how they could get where they wanted but only faced the right direction for an instant between going mostly sideways.
~o~
Ambassador Taj-Velindir became a fair sailor. His man Hurandûth never did. The crew wondered if he would return. Nag Kath spent considerable time with both of them. Dol Amroth seemed the best place to light for a while since it was the last place besides the Woodland Realm where anyone spoke Sindarin. They would eventually have to see the King in Minas Tirith. He spoke Sindarin and so did the Queen. On board they made as much progress in the common tongue as they could.
On the way it took three months to reach the port of Bozisha-Dar. Against the wind it took five and a half to return, but on August second of the year 90 of the Fourth Age, the ship with new Swan Breeze nameplates made the commercial harbor in Dol Amroth just before the lunch-bell.
It was no secret. Hundreds of people came to look from their homes and work. Crewmen waved, spotted loved ones and held their kisses for a while longer. The Ivandreds were too far away from the wharves to hear the commotion but Nag Kath would see them soon enough.
They berthed in the Commercial Harbor. With a small and light cargo, the warehouse of Wheyrand and Fleck was chosen for about a third of the crates. The rest would stay onboard for the Captain to take up to Pelargir, the Rammas dock and Osgiliath. The Peristonig brothers were adamant that their own people would pay dearly for those fabrics, possibly more than the wealthy but dowdy Dunedain. Whispering in the right ears along the route would create demand and might grease skids for the brothers' entrée into higher levels of their society.
Men were given a full Florin in nippers and silvers, double their contract rate. Seaman Lhorhun got an extra nipper for his thumb. Bosun Ibernig got three Florin. Second and First Mates got four and five respectively. Athmandal understood he would receive his share more privately. In the meantime, he took the Ambassador and aide to the Inn of Dol Amroth, the nicest place in town. There they could get a suite of rooms to serve as temporary headquarters with all the conveniences of home. Nag Kath would drop by tomorrow after arranging for them to meet the right people.
~o~
The Elf had an ethical dilemma; Captain Penandoth had been promised ten Florin or half the profit on the cargo, whichever was greater. The hoop of mithril was beyond price but that had to stay quiet for every possible reason. He had to take it where it could be melted and put any temptation to bed. The seed of an idea grew on the way here and he would hold to that purpose saying, "Captain, you have shown the very highest intelligence, courage and nobility in your charge. Our cargo should be very profitable indeed. I have a proposal for you."
Penandoth was silent knowing good things come to those who listen. The Elf continued, "I would like you to take the worm-wool to the inland ports on the Swan Breeze. That done, the ship is yours, free and clear."
Captain smiled, "I will only try to talk you out of that once."
"No good."
"Very well, if you insist."
He was free. He was his own man. The ship was in perfect condition with no more than a singed sail in the hold for two engagements. This was beyond his wildest dreams two years ago when all he looked forward to was a Minor Captaincy and his wraith of a wife.
Nag Kath said more softly, "Let us speak in the next couple days, giving me time to get the contract in order."
"Sounds fair." He rose and walked to the stevedores shouting to have a care with those crates.
Listracht was been sitting on a pier piling patiently watching. Like Dal, but in many ways more so, they had much to discuss. Walking to his house Nag Kath said, "Well, my friend, what is your share of our booty?"
In jest the man grinned, "Oh, ten Florin at least!"
Not hearing the man's humor Nag Kath said, "That seems reasonable."
They let themselves in after getting baked fish and some meat for Listracht along with a gallon of cool tea. Listracht could not wait to get this off his chest, "Nag, I was only joking. I am here in service."
"Oh, I know, but just as a senior sailor, you get a cut. If you feel guilty, help those you meet. In the meanwhile we have a great deal more service ahead."
The Righter asked, "You need to take that band north?"
"Without doubt. It must be destroyed. It won't work now but that does not mean it is past repair. Only the Dwarves can do that. I need to be sure of their intentions. King Elessar will help, the Queen even more. Stay here tonight. I need to get up the hill and see the children. We will talk tomorrow."
~o~
~o~o~o~
~o~
Hugs and kisses all around. They saw the commotion at the dock through elderly vision. Nag Kath flopped on the couch. Cal, Eniecia and the Captain got most of the story with the servants trying not to breathe just inside the kitchen. This might be his most fantastic yarn yet. And like the famed mariner so long ago, he brought back the proof.
The Elf asked, "Cal, I've got the Ambassador and his man in the Dol Amroth. How do emissaries from lost worlds present their credentials?"
"Well, to me for the next three weeks. That is convenient. Bring them round at the eleven-bell tomorrow and we will make lunch of it. Without putting too fine a point on it, does he have the means to hold the position?"
"Like he had two rich uncles. Their native tongue is an understandable version of Sindarin but they got fair common-speech on the trip here. They will need to make the White City before too long." Nag Kath had a sip and said softly, "So do I."
Eniecia announced, "It is such a fair day. Let us have our next pot of tea in the garden."
They did. The Elf told them about the mithril oval. His work was still a year from complete.
~o~
The business side concluded, Eniecia said, "While you have been discovering new worlds, we have not been sitting on our hands. It seems we will be going north ourselves. Prince Eldarion is marrying a maiden of Arnor in two months time. One would think that is nothing to us but Lord Elboron has invited us, and our entire family, to visit for the celebration."
Nag Kath sipped, "The ember lit?"
She beamed, "So it would seem. Not that it is the grandparents place to comment, but I understand the young people have exchanged views on the lordliest of lore."
She became more serious, "Nag, Shur is not doing well, says he can't get his wind." Eniecia held back a tear, "Those dratted big Northmen only last so long, like da. She brightened, "Mina is to wed in two weeks time. I thought you ought to know."
When the Elf said nothing, Eniecia added detail with a twinkle in her eye, "She was noticed at the theater last year and a dashing officer of the guard swept her off her feet. We renewed our box this year and they joined us for one of the performances. It is a good match. I hope that doesn't dash your hopes."
Nag Kath said, "I would have knocked on her door but it is better that she marries someone who can share his whole life with her." He wasn't sure he meant it. Was he finally becoming an Elf now that they had all left?
The Elf was home after porridge. Listracht was snoring on his cot, aware that someone came but was not a threat. He pushed up on his arms and said, "Hope all is well."
"Mostly. It seems we are going to Minas Tirith within the month, in state too, so we need to get you matching socks."
Listracht offered helpfully, "Perhaps of the worm-wool spools."
"There is a thought. I hope the Peristonig brothers think of a better name if this is the fashion for man-cart society, something of their tongue. I go to the notary now and then to get the Ambassador. Grenda will have a cook/cleaner come for the time we are here but probably no one today."
Nag Kath went to his money box, still protected by a strong confusion ward, and got ten Florin in assorted coins. Dumping them in front of the astonished Righter he said, "You earned this, and we might not be done. Take your ease. We tie loose ends in a fortnight."
~o~
Notary Sereandorn was drafting a contract but when the recently celebrated mariner dropped by, he could finish later. It only took fifteen minutes for his scribe to prepare a standard transfer of a Belfalas-built ship. Money changed hands and the Elf walked to the wharf. Penandoth stayed in an inn that night but was back just before his employer arrived.
They stood on the forecastle and looked at one of the big transports leaving with the tide. Nag Kath said, "Here you are. Take good care of her. I will follow in three weeks. It seems the Prince of the Reunited Kingdom is to wed. I have business there and then further north."
Penandoth looked at the simple paper of title. The notary would file a duplicate at the hall of records in the event of later disputes. The plan was to drop a third of the worm-wool in Pelargir and let the Peristonigs peddle it in small quantities from a warehouse. The rest went upriver to friends of Tumlen's family, save five percent which Nag Kath kept personally for gifts and future bribes.
They shook hands, certain they would see each other many times in their long, successful lives. There was sadness. They had been crammed onto a tiny vessel for better than a year and were friends. Each had taken the measure of the other and both were true. That doesn't always happen in this world.
~o~
From there he collected the emissaries of Miraz, now to be known as Thân zîrân. They trooped up the hill in plenty of time to be welcomed by Minister Caladrion Ivandred. Cal took a few minutes to heap-on the Lordship. Tea and sweet-cakes were presented and the gentlemen were shown into his office as if they were the only thing he had to do that day.
It helped that he was an obvious Dunedain and spoke their language. Nag Kath's impression, confirmed later by Cal, was that they were here to learn more than to preach. Taj-Velindir was in his late thirties, young by their count, and unmarried. Cultural recognition and trade were foremost in his and Hurandûth's minds. Their brief was open-ended. Caladrion recommended an estate man to find suitable property for their embassy.
Initial diplomacy took an hour when they joined Nag Kath loafing in the reception area and went to lunch in one of several well-appointed dining rooms encircling a hub kitchen. As arranged, Suvein and another minister dropped by to welcome esteemed colleagues of Thân zîrân. Dol Amroth was the courtliest place in Middle-earth and they could lay-on the charm with a paddle. When Cal thought they were sufficient relaxed he said, "I will be sure you receive invitations to the marriage of Prince Eldarion Telcontar in Minas Tirith in October. A flotilla will leave here in three weeks. With your permission, I can arrange for your transportation with the Lords of this realm."
It was hard to discern the Ambassador's response. Nag Kath learned on the ship he was a grandson of Ar-Gimilzôr's brother, so on the edge of royalty but nowhere near the throne. He should know how to keep a Dukks face. But here was an invitation to the Elessar's only son's wedding, in the White City where he dealt Sauron's forces their most crushing defeat.
The man smiled and said he could not think of a better way to meet his Lord's brother King. The Elf suspected Taj-Velindir was chosen from the 'let sleeping dogs lie' camp of Miraz politics. The Ambassador chose well. He would represent his unknown country to the mightiest of men, Hobbits and a few Dwarves. Nag Kath wanted to speak with one Dwarf in particular so his timing was good too.
~o~
When he got home that afternoon, Listracht and Dal were eating the revolting lamb and vegetables on sticks sold from corner stands in the working wharfs. Settling with Dal was a mostly private conversation but Listracht could be a fly on the wall. Nag Kath asked the young man his plans after giving him five Florin. That was more than his position on the ship earned but he had done yeoman work before and a few of the quiet things that made the trip successful.
Athmandal put the little purse in his pocket and buttoned it carefully before saying, "I am not sure, Nag Kath. I'll go north with the Swan Breeze and they can drop me below Pelargir on the way back so I can see my ma and da. I sent a letter yesterday. They can't read and don't know I can write so I hope someone will read it to them. I'll help Captain with the heurzis."
Listracht and Nag Kath both said, "What?"
"Aye, that's what Udan called the worm-wool. Can't be having the lordly backsides of Gondor wearing worm-dougsh."
Nag Kath said, "Stay in touch, young man. I will take a big ship that way in three weeks for the royal wedding. You take good care of Captain for me."
"Aye, sir, and thank you, sir."
~o~
~o~o~o~
~o~