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

43. Chapter 43 Residue

Chapter 43

Residue

~o~

The next three weeks was a whirlwind of dinners with excited family, a less than complete explanation of the trip to the scholars and trying to get tickets to Pelargir. Miss Glynnys was the woman found to feed Listracht in the meantime. She knew his tastes. Though never reported, it is possible some of his ten Florin found its way to women skilled in relieving tension. A purist might wonder about the right-living man, but their creed was that you didn't take things from people. Renting was a gray-area.

Prince Althros was not making the trip. Lord and now Regent Imrothil would deputize along with his wife Yeldiseer and their children. His younger brother Kolland, his wife and their young second son Dorthans went too. Quite a few palace folk were on that ship which had escorts front and starboard. Caladrion's family and other dignitaries were split between the Marine escorts. They had all been this way before and hoped to see the troll head.

Nag Kath and Listracht took a smaller ship sooner than the others to spend a few days in Pelargir. Nemren was included and disliked sailing as much going as coming. The sea was calmer but the horse didn't trust it. They would have to load him on a ferry in two days when the family arrived. List was interested in the troll-hole. It was a park now since no one in their right mind would buy it, but the Elf sensed no residual of its former residents. He visited Phylless and Helien. Listracht decided he could eat nothing but nuppers to the end of his days, with a good ale, naturally.

Ubier and Udan had made their mark. It would not do but that the gentry of both westerners and Southrons must have the heurzis fabric in all its rainbow colors! Traditionalists and halfers railed in the streets at brazen women revealing hints of their undergarments. A new dark age they cried! Southrons had their own dress standards and paid bright coin for the fabric.

Ferries had been booked months in advance by Nag Kath's group so all he and the Righter had to do was get the horse on deck and stow their packs. Talienne was more comfortable. Her older sister was on the verge of being engaged in Dol Amroth to a suitable fellow who just happened to be on the Princely barge. That was quiet, except, of course, it wasn't. Perhaps there would be a tasteful announcement. Menalgir was getting to know a girl back home but it wasn't as developed as the Ivandred lasses.

The Elf reveled in it all. He enjoyed the pairing of young people, old ones too. It didn't matter. This was the age of men and men need women. Mina learned he was in town and sent a hasty wedding invitation. He returned regrets and a gift of the best earrings from the trip. Some of the Ivandreds went and said she was a beautiful bride.

The diplomats of Thân zîrân were on the ferry with Listracht, Nag Kath and some of his family. It was the first time he had seen them since introducing Caladrion. They were making strides in the common-speech although the accent sounded a bit Dwarvish, not ideal for meeting women. It was good they met since it fell to Nag Kath to introduce them to King Elessar. That meeting would be his second with the King.

~o~

As soon as they made the Rammas dock, the family was distributed at Nag Kath's home and Shurran's. Shur did seem a bit ragged but hugged and cried when he saw his grand-da looking like always. It was his heart. He knew that. He also knew Nag could do nothing for human hearts. It wasn't time yet but he knew what would get him. Penni was his rock with a devoted family.

They had two weeks before the nuptials and were busy all the while. After getting reasonably settled, the Elf walked up to the side gate at the seventh and said he was here to speak with Mr. Grown. It would not have mattered who he said. They were expecting him. He was shown to the family apartments. The King, Queen and groom-elect Eldarion were seated in their living room. Nag Kath bowed and sat. Aragorn said, "Interesting letter, Nag Kath."

"Indeed, Sire. And to all, please accept my congratulations on the blessed union and to your daughters." He gave them a condensed version of his journey. Other than a few questions, he held the floor for half a bell. An introduction to the Ambassadors was arranged two days hence.

Arwen asked, "Did you bring it with you?"

"Yes ma'am." Nag Kath opened his large folio case and showed the bright, dented oval. "For as thick as it is, it only weighs about ten pounds. The device was held between two rock pillars, stationed over this chasm." He took the drawing he made before leaving out of the same folio and passed it to them. "They claimed this was a door to the dark one's gaol for one with the power to summon him. I was able to make it seethe with a few trick spells but wanted no part of waking him or whatever else might be exiled. There was malevolent power.

"I got a better sense of it healing a young woman who put her hand through it years before and was reduced to a mind of nightmares. It took the same spell Gandalf used on me. And this is important; the essence was pure black, not the black and green of orc or the beast pool.

She continued, "And yet you can hold it now."

"Yes ma'am. The falling rock bent it out of shape enough to ruin the effect. I believe these scratch marks here along the edge were to tune it to a pitch, the way musicians will stone their cymbals for a certain note."

Eldarion asked, "And these old Numenoreans did that long ago?"

"My inquires continue, sir. It has none of their markings or anyone else's. I stayed with the new King for two months, speaking almost every day. He was glad to be quit of the thing. They are a people much devoted to lore and there was no mention of its origins. It is damaged but not destroyed. If my friend Golord in Dale is correct, only the Fundin Forge of Erebor can melt it now that Mordor is cooling. With my Lords' and Lady's permission, I will speak to Lord Gimli if he is here."

Aragorn, who had let his wife and son ask most of the questions said, "He is already here and yes, he is the one to consult." The King asked, "May I see it?"

Nag Kath handed him the oval. Aragorn chuckled and said, "Can you imagine the uproar this will create among Durin's folk?"

That got the royals an obscene grin, "Every time, sir. They nearly broke out in a rash over the little lump from the troll cave. It begs the question; how are relations under the mountain? I was forbidden Erebor by Stonehelm during his life."

Eldarion saw a ray of hope, "Stonehelm has joined his ancestors. Frôr reigns now. They are still not as close as they were with the Glittering Caves or the Blue Mountains, even Iron Hills who trade and enjoy ale with your kin in the Buhrs.

Aragorn added, "They have not reclaimed Moria, making this trove of mithril all the more political.

Knowing they would have more time to talk at leisure the King said, "We will meet in two days with the representatives of …"

"Thân zîrân, Sire. It ties the tongue."

~o~

Gimli was staying with his Dwarves in quarters on the sixth. He only brought eight of his own soldiers and three ministers on ponies joining the heavily guarded retinue of the future Princess and half a dozen Hobbits on even smaller ponies. Nag Kath stopped on his way down and was met by a rather large Dwarf at the door demanding to know his reason for interrupting.

"I am Nag Kath and come to welcome Lord Gimli to Minas Tirith."

"Lord Gimli has been here six days and already welcomed by the King."

Why do they do this?! "Please tell your Lord that I come to ask his counsel on old troubles, very old troubles. I will wait outside."

Nag Kath walked over to the little garden along the front of the embassy row and sat on a bench with good sun against the coming autumn. There was no telling how long the longbeard would take so he let his mind wander to myriad events unfolding at once.

He was distracted enough that he did not see a woman in gray leading a small child towards him along the garden path until they were no more than thirty feet away. He waved at the child. She waved back and looked up at her governess. The woman nodded and the girl picked a flower at her feet and brought it to him with the loveliest smile. He accepted it graciously and said, "Oh, what is that behind your ear?"

She looked askance. His hand reached behind her head and brought back a groat. He told her, "You mustn't leave these in your ears, young lady" and handed it to her. She had never seen a groat before and did not know they were kept in her ears. She ran back to her keeper and showed the new prize. The woman smiled at him and took her back to the seventh gate.

Not much later, the longbeard walked to the bench, "Please come with me, Lord Kath."

He was fairly sure he had been in this home before, perhaps the Dwarvish ambassador. Nag Kath was walked down a corridor to a large room where the Lord of the Glittering Caves was sitting with an aide. Gimli rose and welcomed his guest effusively, gripping the Elf's forearms in their style. Elves generally don't like being touched but the Dwarf knew this one didn't mind. "Sit down, young fellow. Please, sit!"

Nag Kath took a chair around a low table and introduced himself to the younger Elf. Gimli said, "How long has it been, Nag Kath?"

"Ten years at least, my friend."

"And you say this concerns old troubles."

Nag Kath gave a quick glance at the aide and spoke evenly, "The oldest, sir."

Lord Gimli said, "Buhrer, please see to our guests this evening"

The fellow nodded with understanding and bowed before leaving. When the door clicked, Nag Kath unbuckled his folio and slid it across the table unopened. Gimli pulled the cover back and exhaled, "Whoah" as if it took his breath away.

He slowly picked-up the piece expecting it to be much heavier, looked around the edges and put it down exactly as it had lain. Wind recovered, he said, "I thought it was a myth, a terrible old story to frighten little ones when they didn't eat their porridge. You have outdone yourself, Master Elf. Where did you get this?"

"In the land of Thân zîrân a thousand leagues below the Anduin, the last of the Black Numenoreans. I visited them and persuaded their leaders to abandon the worship of Morgoth."

"Pursuaded?"

"After a fashion."

Gimli cleaned old weed from his pipe and reloaded it. After the perfect puff he said, "You tell me your story and I'll tell you mine."

The Elf gave him the shortest possible version of essential events, particularly the positioning and damage to this artifact. The Dwarf smoked silently throughout. When Nag Kath was done Gimli said, "Fair is fair. This was rumored to be crafted by Sauron with the aid of the Dark Dwarves. Numenor was destroyed, Sauron was reduced to spirit and the King's-Men were slowly driven from their holdings in the north. Folk thought this sunk beneath the wrath of Numenor's bitter end."

A final puff, "Now, leave it to you, you walk in with this fell object like you bought it in the market. Is this where the rock hit it?"

"I think so. I was trying to look frightened at the time."

"What do you need from me, Nag Kath."

"My friend Master Golord once said only the Fundin Forge could melt this into something that can't summon dark lords from the void. I can't go there any more. Mordor's fiery pits are just bubbling mud now. I would see this destroyed but I need your counsel."

Gimli considered loading another pipe but put it on the table and asked, "Young man, do you have any idea what this is worth?"

"A lot, but no, and I would not take a nipper of the gold Smaug lay on. In truth, Master Dwarf, I am more concerned that it cannot be restored." Nag Kath spent some time showing Gimli the little file marks used to vibrate the correct pitch. It seemed unfixable since no one knew the resonance, but it would be less resonant melted into jewelry.

Gimli looked at his pipe before saying, "I will be here for the wedding and some afterwards. Let us speak again after I get a few discrete opinions. This will be the largest gathering of its kind since, well, since we dined in Éomer's halls."

Nag Kath chuckled, "My timing is better than usual, Master Dwarf. Oh, I made friends of the Dunedain nation in the south. They sent Ambassadors up on my ship and are come to the nuptials. I will be sure to introduce you."

"You are full of surprises, Master Elf."

~o~

Introducing the Ambassadors to King Elessar Telcontar went well. If there was a time when hard feelings would flare; that was it. They would stay until the start of winter meeting other representatives of the great northern map but all agreed Dol Amroth was probably the best headquarters since this would be a seafaring relationship. The understanding with King Tarquin was the possibility of more northern traders coming down for fabric and other things in exchange for known popular items among his people.

Listracht took rooms on the first near the largest group of Rhûnen for tidings of his original land. He spent time with the Khandians too and could pass for one of them from almost any district. He was to stay close until after the wedding and probably return to the east. List also bought a good horse and visited Osgiliath where right-livers had something of a community. Nag Kath still intended to go east again. If List wasn't too old and feeble, perhaps he might tag-along.

The final tally wasn't in but it seemed the worm-wool heurzis would bring about seventy Florin. Not counting the mithril, after his exorbitant bonuses and general lack of business sense he lost about ten. The Peristonigs were made-men, having never once been threatened by Umbari. It would not be long before merchants spoke with the Ambassadors about trade ships. Captain's and mate's logs were worth their weight in mithril too.

The Ivandreds and Librons did not see a lot of Uncle Nag until four days before the wedding when Prince Elboron's party crossed the Anduin and rode in state to the Steward's quarters on the seventh. Talienne had matured quite a bit in the time since Lord Barahir's visit. Her older, practical sister and close cousins steadied her outlook. The families had a large banquet in their palace quarters using one of the meeting rooms.

During refreshments before the meal, Uncle Nag took the youngsters to the magistry room with the portrait of King Turembar and Queen Nepthat. Talienne wasn't as close as the image in his mind but close enough for ouhhs and aahhs from those present. Bara looked longer than anyone. The Elf touched the side of his nose with his finger to say more was coming later.

~o~

The marriage went fine except for a mass of people who thought they could get onto the top level from the side gate and could not. No one was killed but folk sustained an assortment of bumps and bruises, some severe. Nag Kath missed the actual Saying to heal the more serious injuries.

The reception was more interesting. After changing, Nag Kath returned for two of several gatherings starting with the diplomatic. By then, the emissaries of Thân zîrân had met the Ambassadors of Rohan, Dale, the Dwarf realms and Hobbits. Unofficially they met Mr. Yond (shortened to something pronounceable) from Khand.

At the main gathering, he had a chance to speak briefly with the bride and groom. Aranthal was the daughter of the Protector of Evendrim, a Lord Governor of the province with Annúminas as the seat. She was twenty-eight and had attractive features that did not really go together. There was great humor hiding behind her wedding smile and considerable intelligence too. It might matter that this was a joining of the two great former kingdoms but they met and fell in love the old-fashioned way, helped by the fact that he was often there.

Prince Elboron was left unsurrounded for a moment so Nag Kath walked over and said hello to he and Angalica. The man announced, "A fair couple. I wish them great joy."

"Aye, I would wager that from Arnor, she can ride as well as most troopers."

The Prince agreed, "She had better. They will be between capitals often. Now, it seems my son is much taken with your Talienne."

"Something of a bookworm too. I confess I have filled her head with the most outlandish stories, some of them true."

"So I heard. I met the Ambassadors. As I understand it, you sailed a ship to the edge of nowhere, found a country of Black Numenoreans and made peace with them?"

"That's about the sum of it. It reminds me a great deal of your Ithilien. If I may be so bold, have them out to your capital for a week of diplomacy. They are both good riders too."

Angalica said, "That is a splendid idea, dear. Leave that with me. And yes, she is your …?"

"Great, great granddaughter. Go back a few more greats and her grand-da slew Smaug. Kin to your house through Tillith of Rohan. I have four of them in Dol Amroth all about the same age and two others are courting as well. I must say I enjoy that."

Angalica said, "You be sure to come too. Barahir enjoys your tales as much as anyone."

Nag Kath nodded as she led her husband off to see the recently spotted Prince Haleth of Rohan. Barahir walked over with a goblet of Dorwinion and said, "I am fortunate in my parents, Nag. Are they matchmaking?"

"Not really. If you need an excuse, you never did see my archives, perhaps a smaller dinner?"

"So you are the matchmaker. Yes, I would be honored. Mother and father will leave in four days. I can stay a while longer."

The Elf grinned, "Good. After the dust settles, we will have a meal and I'll travel east with you. I need to check things in Osgiliath. There is another romance afoot and I do not want to rain on them."

"Just let me know. Oh, have you met Princess Millicend?" He hadn't. She was a plump lass with a remarkable smile and sense of fun. Had he known or cared, a young man from the Purse was interested and met no obstacles from her parents. He was talking with the Purse man from Rohan so Nag Kath did not meet him but she was pleasant and glad of his safe return from interesting lands.

~o~

Nag Kath walked home earlier than the rest of the guests. He knew he would see the people he needed to soon enough. The spirit of matrimony was in the air because the next day Lieutenant Zurowen asked Field and Grenda for the hand of Raniece. It was no surprise and they agreed warmly. He was a fine young man, even if a little leery of Uncle Nag. They would keep this in the families until the royal wedding was over. The days after such unions were political as folk who seldom saw each other wrestled with things better done in person. Since it was poor form to argue after a wedding, it made for better diplomacy.

Nag Kath spent his time with Shurran and Penni, often including the older Ivandreds since they were staying there too. The Elf was able to pull considerable congestion from the Shur's lungs and put him on a regimen of horrible tasting teas and herbs to keep them clear. With Penni's firm hand, he would take his medicine. All of Shurran's children and grands were fine, although Shur was concerned that one marriage was not rosy. Penni didn't like him airing that but the big Northman said his mind. Shur looked a good deal like the old Thain in Austar.

Older than Eniecia; Shur's family started later so his younger grandchildren were still small enough to enjoy the towering Uncle Nag pulling groats out of their ears. The older boy liked archery. All thought that good. It kept the spirit of Bard alive. Nag Kath never saw any of them that he did not imagine the shot from the tower. Shur framed a sketch of the attack angle coming from the south of Lake Town, an uninspired landscape to anyone else.

Nag Kath invited Lord Barahir and the Field Ivandreds to dinner that Saturday. Food was catered and the other relatives staying there remembered things they had to do that night. Raniece asked to be excused for very excusable reasons making it just the five of them. Neither of the young people said much and the older ones tried not to dominate the conversation so the meal stuttered around short bursts of speaking with awkward pauses.

The pace improved with the anticipated look through Uncle Nag's archives. He sat the youngsters to either side of him on the couch with Grenda and Field across in comfortable chairs. Putting the folio on the low table he flipped through things he had not seen himself in a few years. It always started with early pictures of here followed by Orthanc, sketches of Trum Dreng with the irreplaceable Talereth and working to Dale. None of these Conaths had ever been there and they were all fascinated with their distant homeland. The picture of Shurran and old Field on the porch was touching.

That led to the aqueduct, Flor, Barahir's grand-da at the dedication and Nag Kath's statue. He laughed every time he saw it. There were Khand, Mordor, Pelargir, Phylless, Orlo, Hobbits, the Carstors wedding, Bard II. It took a while. Finally came pictures of the newly discovered kingdom below the horizon. Barahir agreed it looked a good deal like Annúminas. Elvish and Dwarvish halls got the most gasps. Minas Tirith was of like scale but the massive Mallorn trees of Lorien were still extraordinary.

Grenda was nodding so the older Ivandred's walked up to their room after saying goodnight. The Elf went to the kitchen to let the cook go home and got another pot of tea against the early autumn. After pouring, he took a mug outside to Barahir's guard and left the young people on the couch, purposely not using his Elf hearing.

They talked for another half bell until the young man said he needed to be off. Nag Kath gave him a couple books with blood oaths to give them back someday. Talienne sat on the couch for another half hour looking at the folio, especially her grannas Eniece and Mrs. Borenne. She did not share her conversation, but she smiled.

~o~

The Dol Amroth contingent prepared to leave three days later. Nag Kath expected long rides the other direction so he saw a lot of them with occasional trips to the first to check on Listracht. After waving goodbye at the Rammas Gate, the Elf asked to see Lord Gimli. There was no foolishness at the door. He still had to wait, but he waited inside.

The Dwarf Lord came out to the hall himself and they shook hands. Gimli showed him to a small room with a good fire going after the first hard-frost of the season. They sat down with another longbeard. If the fellow was there now, he was trustworthy. It was not too early in the day for a Rohan Red.

The Lord of the Glittering Caves raised his glass in toast to the honored fallen and took a long pull. Then he said, "Nag Kath, this is Tornbor, son of your friend Tombor. He is ambassador here. I have taken the liberty of telling him your concern."

Tornbor boomed, "It is a pleasure, Lord Kath. Your service to our people is renowned."

"The pleasure is mine, sir. And just Nag Kath, please."

The Dwarf, not a youngster by any means, said gravely, "Gimli described the object you acquired, a large band of what seems pure or near pure mithril."

"Aye, sir, tuned like a fork to hum at a fell pitch. It was bent in a rock-slide and lost its tone, but still something I would rather the world did not have, or even know exists. Gimli thought it was legend. I say; let it remain so. My friend Golord in Dale consulted on other mithril work long years ago and said one of the Erebor forges is the only one known able to make something useful of it."

"Golord is friend to me, Nag Kath. That is where I got some of my favorite tales of your exploits. Do you still have the little knife?"

The Elf dug in his pocket and handed it to Tornbor. He did not open it but spent a few moments looking at the simple, elegant design. Giving it back he said, "I think the work can be done. King Frör will not object to its destruction but will want to retain the metal. It is hard to imagine a fair exchange, it has been so long since such material has been seen in that quantity."

Nag Kath held his chin before saying, "Sirs, I do not need anything comparable. If I am assured that this can never be used by adherents of Melkor, whatever you think is fair is fine by me. I did stipulate that I was not interested in any of the old gold, but other than that, I do not care."

Tornbor and Gimli spoke in their tongue, one of the few Nag Kath did not speak. It was only a few sentences by each until Gimli said, "I will vouch for its destruction. Will you take the object there yourself?"

"I think I should, if I am permitted Under the Mountain. I have other business in Dale."

Tornbor nodded, "I will see to it personally. When will you leave?"

"Soon. I can travel with you to the north."

The younger Dwarf laughed and said, "I am the Ambassador here, but my old friend Gimli might take you as far as his caves if you can tolerate his stories."

Gimli nodded gravely, "He can tolerate them. We leave Friday."

~o~

Nag Kath sent a note to Lord Barahir that their ride would have to wait but he was welcome to take the curious Righter Listracht for much better versions of his own placid stories. He gave Shur another treatment for his wind and ordered him to be here when he returned.

A skeleton troop of the Arnorans was also walking their horses alongside the trotting ponies just as they had done coming here. Gimli was the oldest of them and still capable of a full day's ride. Traveling with Dwarves and Hobbits takes time. That was fine since they are such sociable folk with the best campfire yarns and songs. Arnorans are fine poets when coaxed into reciting. In exchange they wanted to hear Nag Kath's tales of impossible lands. Western men seldom visited the east. The Elf often wondered at Aragorn's rangers protecting the wilds. Now that the peace was won, men turned their attention to business and farming and raising families. Eastern and western traders generally brought goods to growing market towns on the borders and did business there, efficient, but with little cultural exchange.

Gimli and Nag Kath took a few hours here and there to discuss the Fellowship. Legolas was in the northern Elven Halls at last word. The Dwarf Lord said the son was more popular than his father among the Silvans. Gimli had never married, neither had the Elf. Nag Kath took the chance of asking if Legolas was there to seek a bride.

Gimli chuckled and said, "I do not rule it out, but he did not say as much. I think he lost a love some time back and does not think she can be replaced." Very quietly, the Dwarf added, "I thought he would be here."

Nag Kath asked just as seriously, "My Lord, what keeps him in Middle-earth?"

"This stays here. His great adventure was with the four breeds of the west. Being away from your own kind makes it hard to go back. Those swan boats only sail one way." The great Dwarf brightened, "On the subject of the fair ones, you have had several wives."

"I have, sir, the last for fifty wonderful years. Friends tell me to go to the wood Elves and ply my suit, but can you imagine me singing Syndolan songs and drinking your red beer?" He laughed, "I would be decried the simple cousin and relegated to washing chamber pots."

Gimli howled at that one before composing himself and agreeing, "Aye, I made a great friend in Legolas, but his folk do not understand that either. It was forged in the most terrible of times and has endured. Just as you seek a forge hot enough to destroy that fell device, we had to find the same. Let us hope you found the last need for one."

King Elfwine of Rohan was at his country estates and his son was still in Minas Tirith but the steward of Meduseld had a fine dinner of all the things Dwarves and Hobbits love before they groaned their way off to Helm's Deep. Nag Kath spent those last two nights with Master Feldram Bracegirdle and his son Merry of the Shire. He was a relative of Samwise Gamgee who was said sailed to the Undying Lands by virtue of being a ringbearer, if only for a few hours. Sam's wife died and kindly Elves thought he might find succor in a new place. Even Master Bracegirdle was not absolutely sure of that. Samwise left the Red Book in his daughter's care. Nag Kath said he spoke of it to Barahir and that the man might want to read it in his pursuit of telling folk the great new stories.

Both Bracegirdles said they would let her know should such a man seek entrance into their lands.

Nag Kath said goodbye at the road to Helm's Deep and turned north towards Fangorn. The forest seemed larger than before. The road around it had been moved a quarter-mile further east as trees grew over the original. Men would usually rather cut the trees and be heated by the wood than grade a new trail.

On familiar ground, the rest of the trip was ordinary. He did not stop at Lorien and only waited a day near Rhosgobel. Now late fall, merchant traffic from the east did not interfere with travelers making their last runs to Dale. He camped with a party of Dwarves and told them of meeting their kin in Minas Tirith, not quite mentioning he was going to Erebor.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

Dale beckoned, just as it had ninety years ago. It wasn't much different. Built from the stones of the hill after Smaug, Dale was a sturdy place indeed. The Lonely Mountain top was lost in clouds today. Nag Kath nudged Nemren to the Kathen office.

He walked inside to greet a young woman at the desk who was the only one not at lunch. His name did not ring any bells. Not sure who ran the place these days, he asked and was told it was Gerimandar Juskind but he was only in two days a week and this wasn't one of them. She didn't particularly want to give the tall young stranger Juskind's address so he left a note and took his horse to the King's Arrow.

The Arrow was a tradition in Dale. Things were repaired and restored to look the same. He got a nice room with a view of Erebor and had lunch. Waiting out a shower, Nag Kath wrote to King Barandor as a Lord of Dale. He did not expect to hear back but that was a common courtesy if 'upstairs' was interested.

The Elf had been back about every ten years until Phylless was elderly. It had been twenty this time. Perhaps some of the great-grandchildren remembered him. There were lots of them and they wouldn't be hard to find. When the drizzle stopped, Nag Kath wandered down to Burry's house. The woman who answered said she was a descendent but she wasn't about to let him in the door. He left her one of a half dozen cards he wrote at the inn.

His next stop was the former home of Lorens and Lotold Brightens. His knock was answered by a young Hobbit who was much more courteous than Burry's heir. Lorald Castthorn inherited from his uncle who died eight years ago after getting the place when Lorens died seven years before that. As usual, Nag Kath hopped over the fence rather than crouch through the house and the Hobbit brought mugs of tea from inside. Lorald had heard stories of the parties. Somewhere in the clutter was a sheet the Elf had written with Syndolan lyrics for those new to mannish singing. Nag Kath told him how well his forbearers danced.

No one from Kathen was in touch the next day so the Elf strolled where he was fairly sure he would be remembered. A shortbeard answered the door and gawked at the tall man in the door saying, "Good day, I am Nag Kath here to see Master Golord."

"Mr. Golord does not receive unannounced salesmen."

Nag Kath pulled the pen-knife from his trouser pocket, not a fearsome threat if he meant violence. He handed it to the young Dwarf saying, "If you would show him this, he may reconsider."

Half a bell later, the blink of an eye in Dwarvish time, Golord himself came to the door and roared, "Good to see you, it has been too long."

"Far too long. You seem well."

"And doing well, though my family does the heavy lifting these days."

Now 231, he was showing his age but still hale and hardy. Golord handed back the knife and showed his guest to a sitting room rather than the studio. Nag Kath gave him the short version of events in the south.

Golord asked, "How is your family here in Dale, Nag Kath?"

"I can't say. I hardly know any of them and will spend a few days tracking them down. I hope not to be a novelty."

"Ha! Before I make you ask, Frór is now King Under The Mountain. Relations between Erebor and Dale are less frosty than they were twenty years ago, but not robust. Between us, Mr. Kath, You were right to destroy that ring. I fear sitting on that much gold is unhealthy. "

The Elf grinned, "Especially after it was sat on by Smaug like a hen on her eggs. I fear that is why I am here." He gave the master craftsman the letter from Tornbor. The Dwarf cracked the seal and read it twice, very carefully.

Nag Kath added, "I have another for the gates."

Golord was tempted to say something about the Elf's amazing ability to find what Dwarf miners could not but this was of more moment. "He said gravely, "How long are you here, young man?"

"As long as it takes. I will see what of my family is left and get a few things. I do not know the contents of your letter. What is your counsel, old friend?"

"Tomorrow I will send one of my nephews to King Frör with this. When I hear back, I will tell you. Are you at your old home?"

The King's Arrow. It has brought me good fortune."

~o~

With no reply from the Kathen office, the next day Nag Kath walked up to Brenen's old house. He was received and admitted to the foyer he knew so well while the servant told the mistress. Mrs. Juskind was one of Bug's children and remembered the Elf. She looked in her late fifties if the Elf knew his Northwomen. She invited him to sit as tea was served. Her husband was poorly which might explain not hearing back. Perhaps they would meet again.

When he got back to his room, a young man was waiting for him. There was no mistaking his bloodlines. "Wallach Grandenar, glad to meet you sir!"

"And you, Mr. Grandenar. I am Nag Kath."

"We have a picture of you. I must say, you are bearing up quite well."

It wasn't too early for ale so they went into the restaurant and had one.

"I am sorry it took so long for someone from the family to visit, Lord Kath."

The Elf shook his head and said, "No trouble, and we need to lose the 'lord'." He asked about the business.

"Well, one of Brenen's line and one of Bard's are directors. Some of us work there. Some get rents and some don't."

"I was just up at a Mr. Juskind's home. The place looks the same."

Wallach considered that and said, "He married into Brenen's folk. We get along fine but there are so many, we don't really know each other very well."

"Then tell me of Bard's lot."

Wallach smiled, "My grandparents on my mother's side were Bart and Graciel, I'm sure you remember them."

"Oh yes." Yes, he did.

"Forgive me, Lord, Uncle Nag, we heard you died."

"No, just busy. I'm immortal."

Wallach said, "People say the silliest things. "Well, we must have a get-together. I'll attend to that and be in touch."

Uncle Nag smiled and said, "I would enjoy that. You can reach me here. Oh, do you know what happened to my things?"

The young man looked a bit less cheerful, "When we were told you died, your trust was divided among the heirs."

Nag Kath considered that a moment and said, "That is to be expected. It was the Mason's, some shops and somewhere else."

"Indeed, a couple lots outside the wall that the Dwarves bought."

The Elf had sent letters every few years so they knew he wasn't dead. Someone in the family pulled a fast one. It was a lot of money but he had more than he needed in the south and decided not to make a fuss. Whatever he got from Durin's Folk would more than compensate. Nag Kath smiled, "Serves me right for being away so long. I am really more interested in my personal effects. Do you know if they survived?"

"They did, sir. My aunt has some boxes in her basement. We can go after we finish our ale."

~o~

Aunt Bethen lived in Bart's home. She remembered Nag Kath well. Hot tea for the guest was ordered. Bart and Grace were good parents to Bethen and her sister who was unwell. Walking with a cane she showed him a picture of Graciel he drew when she was looking out a window during their time together. It was next to one of Bart done later.

Evidently the Bard clan had Nag Kath's pictures in many of their homes. Bren's folk might have lost the trail with him dying young, but Bard made sure the family knew who had buttered their bread. The Elf smiled remembering the Maedos' tradition of having the patriarch memorialized each generation. He was fairly sure the one hanging was the only picture he had ever drawn of himself. Wallach had to get back to his engraving business and said he would be in touch. Meanwhile, Aunt Bethen summoned an elderly retainer saying, "Wilfred, please take Lord Kath down to the basement. We have some of his possessions."

Poor Wilfred tried to hold the candle steady without getting wax on his hand as he crept down the stairs. Both Khandian rugs were rolled side-by-side among several crates. The tops were on but not nailed shut so he took the first one off and saw mostly clothes and a few household items. The little grubs that eat wool aren't found this far north. With a good cleaning, someone could wear them.

The next box was the one he came for. It had a large folio of older pictures and Lord Altheras' sword. It was sure to need polishing but had been sealed in grease before storage, good thinking; that! The third box was more clothes, candlestick holders, some of Eniece's little boxes and a pair of her earrings made by Bren's son Gerrulth in a silver case. He kept those and several boxes.

To Wilfred's relief, the Elf carried the folio and sword himself. Setting his treasures by the door, Nag Kath thanked the servant and said to Aunt Bethen, "Thank you, ma'am. I will only keep these. You are welcome to divide the rest or give them to the needy, as you see fit. Those carpets were very fine in their time. You might find a floor for them yourself."

"Oh Lord Kath, that would be lovely. My friend at the Flower Society serves with the Queen's Charity. I shall ask her about the clothes." The old woman winked and added, "She has a couple strapping sons who can carry them too."

~o~

He walked into the King's Arrow just as group was being seated for a bride's party before her nuptials. Standing off to the side was a lovely woman in a pale blue dress. Trying not to stare, his mind raced back until a gentleman took her by the hand to their chairs.

The sword could stand professional attention. It hadn't been swung in anger since fighting through Eriador but even with grease, rust was forming. Tallow had yellowed the scabbard.

The folio was fascinating. He hadn't seen these since Shurran sat next to him. There was another angle of the Wild Huntsman and some sketches of Lord Thranduil's Halls. A discarded portrait of Ardatha and Reyald – he would keep that for southern Conaths. On second thought, he would have the front desk send it to Buhr Austar. Not far down he found the sketches of the Elf Slipper flower he used to discover his guardi tracker. Half of these were of Dale itself, some architectural, some just gardens and fountains. They would make good gifts for the family if Wallach wanted to pass them around.

At the bottom was a formal portrait of Queen Delatha. It was one of the best pieces he had ever done. He could not remember why he still had it. He resolved to take it as far up the palace as he could get.

Wallach was as good as his word. The next day Nag Kath received a note that the Chandlers' hall had been reserved three nights hence. The heirs of Brenen and Bard would be invited. It was short notice but what else would they do on a Wednesday night?

~o~

The next morning he took a tube with the Queen's portrait to the palace gate and said he was Lord Kath with a gift for the King and Queen. This time he had his hair back so his ears were showing. He might be one of the reclusive Elves of the Woodland Realm so a Corporal escorted him to the main door and asked for the assistant Chamberlain.

The big Northman saw him and said, "Good day, sir. How can I help you?"

"My name is Nag Kath, formerly of this city. Many years ago I drew a picture of the King's great grandmother. It was recently discovered and I wanted to give it to their Highnesses as a token of respect."

The man asked, "May I see it please?"

He wanted to make sure that tube didn't have a sword inside. Nag Kath unrolled the large sheet and the man was lost in her serenity. The Chamberlain reluctantly took his eyes from the drawing and asked softly, "Was it you who drew her and King Bard together?"

"Yes, at the same time."

Chamberlain Intressen usually gave reasons people could go no further but this was different. He asked the guest to sit and took the portrait down the corridor. Five minutes later, he asked Nag Kath to go with him.

King Barandor was forty eight and looked quite like Shurran had at that age. After receiving his bow, the man walked over and said, "This is a treasure sir. I was told you drew the original as well."

"I did, Sire. There was quite a tale behind it."

His Lordship smiled and said, "I have heard some of that. Are you in Dale long, Lord Kath?"

"Some time, Sire. I have business with the Dwarves."

Touching his beard in kingly fashion, Barandor said, "I would very much like you to return and tell my sister and me your recollections." Intressen was discretely listening near the door. The King motioned him over and the man said, "Wednesday afternoon is free after the Thain of Riding, My Lord."

Barandor looked to the artist and asked, "How is the three-bell?"

"That would be splendid, Sire. I am meeting some of my family that evening and can remember old stories for them too."

"Family, Lord Kath?"

"I was married to a woman of Esgaroth long ago."

The King muttered to himself, "Kath … Kath of the Celduin?"

"Ah, Sire, I cannot outrun my past. That is all tied to your noble granna too."

Barandor smiled and said, "Then we may need to fortify at the telling."

Nag Kath would enjoy that. The King and Princess might like hearing of their grandparents' wedding too.

His last official stop was business and he had waited until now because it might inform his decisions. The Royal Bank of Dale never changed. Oiled wood in the north lasts forever and the racks of little filing drawers lining the second story could have been plucked from King Brand's memory.

The Elf left his hair Elvish and asked to speak to a manager. He was shown to a table away from the main floor. Mr. Tellush, a tall, lank man of less than full Northman heritage, stood to shake hands. The name Nag Kath did not ring bells here either but he was professional and patient.

"Mr. Tellush, I was a resident of the city long ago. I had accounts here in my name, my business name and, hopefully, an account that was entailed to a charity many years hence if I never returned. I was hoping you could see what of those remain."

"Certainly, Mr. Kath. Would you sign this card so we can look in our records?"

The Elf wrote his chop and a signature since he wasn't sure which they would use. Assistant Manager Tellush took it upstairs to those fabled files and had one of the clerks rummage about. In only ten minutes he was back down at the desk. He was uncomfortable. "Mr. Kath. Our records show that your personal account and your business account were distributed to heirs some five years ago when you were declared dead."

The man almost winced, waiting for the explosion. What he got was, "I thought as much. Thank you for looking."

Off the hook for the bank having correctly given their depositor's money to his heirs, the manager said, "Sir, were, excuse me, are you the Kath of Kathen? One of my nieces traces back to that family."

"Yes, my adopted son Brenen was last two letters, now long gone." He added 'adopted' so the man wouldn't think his niece was Elf-kind. I am hoping that some of the heirs will come to a gathering Mr. Grandinar is organizing."

Tellush said, "Then, sir, there is this trust to the Right Lung."

He handed the card to the Elf who corrected, "That's Right-Living."

The man wrote that beside the smudged original in pencil and said, "If you will excuse me again, I will get your balance."

This time he went to the main floor clerks who delved where only the lordly are allowed. It took longer but he returned saying, "You have fifty-six Florin and twelve on deposit, sir."

"Excellent. I will likely move it to your sister bank in Gondor by draft when I return there. Thank you for taking such good care of my family, Mr. Tellush."

He walked back to the inn surprised there was anything at all.

~o~

Wednesday at three arrived to find the Elf waiting in the hall outside the sunny room where the Queen would have sat for her portrait if she wasn't so sick. It was drawn from memory. A different attendant showed him where the King and Queen were sitting with Princess Dorlanee and one of her daughters. Nag Kath bowed and was seated at the low table.

Usually one waits for the royals to make the first statement but Nag Kath opened the little tube and removed several of the drawings he saved from Aunt Bethen's basement. Rolling them out on the table; the top sheet was King Bard and Rosscranith at this very table discussing matters of state. Below it was Burry barking orders at militia archers drawing for the straw-men. The last was another of the dragon's attack angle from the Esgaroth tower.

Nag Kath said, "I thought you might have a place for these, Sire, My Lady."

The Princess was very interested. Younger than her brother, she had two daughters, both nearing marriageable age. She asked, "Who is this, Lord Kath?"

"Davit Rosscranith, ma'am, long a counsellor to both Kings Bard and Bain."

The King said, "I know the name well. It is good to put a face to it."

Nag Kath hadn't realized just how long it would take to unravel everything that came of Lord Carstor's portrait. It led to Bain, Eniece, the Easterlings, Kathen, sorcery and feeding orcs in the wastelands. Towards the end, the Princess asked, "what of this picture, Lord Kath? It seems quite ordinary."

"That, My Lady, is from the tower in Lake Town showing the angle Smaug was traveling when your esteemed forbearer shot him from the sky. I took my grandson Shurran Conath up there to see where his great, great grand-da saved the world."

It was quarter of the six-bell before he left so he walked straight to the family party and told most of the same stories again. Very few of Brenen's line came. They were personal friends of young Wallach Grandenar and had a good time. Nag Kath was able to answer many questions about the early days of what was now a Dalish dynasty. None of the senior Kathen folk of either side showed.

~o~

All that remained was hearing from Erebor. It was another three days before one of the longbeards of the great city came to ask Nag Kath to return with him the next morning. The Elf agreed and would meet him at the gate on the eight-bell.

For the first time since he showed Gimli, Nag Kath held the oval. It was kept in Nemren's oat bag thinking that would be the last thing taken other than the horse itself. He thought; how many of you are still out there? Will this world never be rid of you?

The longbeard was Brerenfor and he was a soldier. He also had a pony so this would not be a tedious trip. They arrived shortly after the twelve-bell and were passed through every door, accumulating more and higher soldiers at each. It takes a while to get through a Dwarf hall. Nag Kath knew the way. Shortly before the throne room, the entourage veered down a corridor, emerging in the rooms of Lord Tombor. Master and advisor to Stonehelm and now Frör, he was the very spirit of duty. The Elf bowed and waited.

Tombor said, "Greetings, young man, though man you are not. It is good to see you again. You bring us something?"

"Something I would like unmade, My Lord."

"May I see it?"

Nag Kath approached with the empty grain sack and removed the oval. He had painted rust-colored swatches randomly around the edges to make it look like scrap steel if anyone happened on it by chance. The Elf handed it to the seated Lord. In one powerful hand the Dwarf examined it closely and said, "It seems my every hearing of you involves some lost artifact. You have outdone yourself this time."

The Elf said nothing. Tombor rose to no great height and said, "Come, we must see the King."

They tramped up two flights of stairs but turned before the throne room into where Nag Kath first met Frör with King Thorin after the Dwarf Ring was destroyed. King Frör was sitting where his father had been nearing sixty years ago. The ruler of the Dwarf realm accepted the Elf's bow and motioned Tombor to bring the fell band. He held it wordlessly and put it on the table to gaze on it for quite a while before looking up and saying, "It has been some time since you were here, and you have put yourself in high trust of our good faith."

"I saw no risk, My Lord. Durin's Folk have always treated me with utmost honesty."

The King continued, "Be that as it may, I understand your conditions are that we must melt this from its current, dangerous form. We may keep the metal and you leave compensation to us. Is that correct?"

"It is, sir."

"Those were promises made you by those who speak for me in other lands and they will be honored. The forge has been heating two days and is ready now. Are you prepared to surrender this?"

"I am, sir."

The King was still for several moments. Then he grasped the frame and said, "Come this way."

Other than Bilbo and Smaug, Nag Kath was sure he was the only non-Dwarf to ever see the innards of the foundry. The Fundin forge was not the largest and it sat near the edge of the furnace cavern. They walked along a wide ledge a story above it. The heat was nothing like he had ever felt from a fierce red glow around a center crucible. King Frör handed the artifact to one of two Dwarves in heavy leather suits covering their entire bodies. The workman trudged their way almost over the pot and clipped the band to a thin steel line strung diagonally over the furnace. The King nodded and Dwarf connected two smaller cables. He deliberately lowered it towards the crucible until it was over the mouth and pulled both ends of the lead, releasing the oval into the cup.

It took very little time to first glow through a series of extraordinary colors and then capitulate to the heat, covering the bottom of the crucible.

Frör smiled saying, "Very well. Let us return to my office."

Since they left, a small, sturdy box of oak and brass had been placed by the raised chair of Frör's conference table. He, Nag Kath, Tombor and two aides sat. A third aide took the box and placed it before the Elf. Nag Kath nodded at the king and opened it. It was two in three parts full of white jewels, raw and cut in a variety of sizes. Interspersed were some of the blue Traybor stones, said to be prized by Elves long gone.

The Elf looked at the mighty King and gasped, "You do me too much honor, King Under the Mountain. I cannot accept this."

Frör admitted, "Some is payment. Some is for having made this foul thing to the risk of everything we hold dear. You suffered for far less, a lesson to us all."

"I will take no more than one of my hands can grasp, to remind myself that is more than I will ever need."

The King looked at one of his aides and commanded, "Bring him one of the silver boxes."

They must have been close because within a minute, it was presented next to the larger chest. Nag Kath reached his hand in without trying to take as much as possible knowing the tighter he squeezed, the more would fall from his grip. His hand closed around the diamonds and he took it out. Dangling with it was a necklace of the same stones. He dropped them in the silver box and said, "We are done, except to praise the lordship of the Dwarf realm. Thank you and all your loyal people for helping me."

The King rose and everyone around the table did too. As Nag Kath bowed, Frör said, "Let us hope it is not so long before you visit us again." With that, the Lord gave a bow of his own. Both Tombor and the Elf bowed lower and made for the entrance.

When they were out of earshot, Tombor sighed, "There were Elves who could not have done that."

"I know very little about Elves, my friend."

~o~

For the first time since she died, Nag Kath visited Eniece's grave. They were of here. It was almost all he knew for eighteen years. He had been to Phyllis's grave many times. This day, he did not think he would ever return so it was time to say truly goodbye to the woman who believed in him.

It was a such nice day he sat in the grass around the untended mound and told her of his life as if she was sitting next to him the way she did. Eniece would have liked Phyll. She would be proud of her grandchildren and the generations who succeeded them. None would likely visit her here, but she must have already met some beyond the circle. There would be no missing Ardatha and Reyald, the old Thain and Haldista too. Her mother and father; so loving and true.

At times he would cry, recover and forge on with his account. There was so much to say, and he had to say it all. It took until nearly sundown before he climbed on Nemren and looked over his shoulder to see Dale vanish in twilight.

~o~

The next stop was down the Anduin to Lorien for a last look at the mirror. As pretty as the forest was, this was still no place for tourists. The Silvan Elves made it plain that visitors were unwelcome. Had men tried to force their way? He could not imagine that going well.

As he turned on the trail to Caras Galadorn, an arrow shook in the bole of a tree. Nag Kath stopped and waited for two ohtars to ask his business. One said in Westron, "This place is for Elves. You will go back the way you came."

He replied in Sindarin, "I am the Elf Nag Kath and seek counsel with Gilfrandos."

"You are not familiar to us."

"It is fifty years since my last visit."

"We will escort you. Please dismount."

They walked along the familiar path. Elvish trails never seem to need trimming. The forest opened onto the Mallorns just as they had, with plenty of green grass for Nemren. One ohtar stayed with him while the other went up a different tree this time and returned a few minutes later saying, "Gilfrandos welcomes you back. Please make yourself comfortable until he descends."

That was about an hour but there are worse things one can do than gaze on the magnificence of an Elvish Kingdom. Folk seemed more interested in him than last time. Some bade him hello and wondered about the rest of the world.

Gilfrandos walked down and they sat on a knoll as Nag Kath shared tidings of the dark servant's portal. Nag Kath asked to see the mirror again and was told to help himself.

As before, he scrubbed the mirror with a soft cloth and river silt to bring up the sheen. Then he wiped it clean and added water to about half full. This time, the mirror responded without being touched. Very slowly, the surface showed him images of the sea, of being on the sea in a ship, no a fair-sized boat, maybe both. It was not a coast he knew, and he now knew quite a few. There was no sense of foreboding.

The scene shifted to a huge field, a battlefield, larger than any in his experience. There were no soldiers or dead but he was sure it was a battlefield. There was malice, either far past or yet to come. The edges of the image fell in on themselves and a fair face began to emerge. She might have been lovely but the mirror went clear.

Nag Kath stepped away wondering again if he could pry the mirror loose and put it on his horse. Logass had said no.

~o~

Leaving Lorien he saw men planting and tilling in the fields to the south of the forest. Twenty miles further, Fangorn seemed closer than it had been before. It was growing both north and east. He avoided it for safety early in his life and later because it was never near where he was going. This time he thought to have a look.

Fangorn was one of the forests whose trees seemed to lean over your neck. Gimli promised Legolas he would come back with the Elf to learn its wonders and, in return, Legolas would savor the Glittering Caves. Nag Kath preferred the caves. On the other hand, these woods had stories to tell. He took the path in from the north with the idea that if it became too close, he would leave.

Nemren was alert but not nervous. There were new sounds and smells in here. Nag Kath knew the horse would react differently than him. The road continued wide with some fair streams flowing from the Misty Mountains into the Anduin plain. They tested clean but there was something else there too. They drank with no effect.

At the end of their second day they reached a large clearing with paths leading in three new directions, a meeting place? There were no stumps or deadfall. Trees simply did not grow here. It was a good place to stop so Nag Kath built a fireless camp and nibbled on Lembas while Nemren grazed on the first grass he had seen in two days.

That night he heard noises, usual forest sounds but more intense. Nag Kath was attuned to the sounds and signals of animals. These were not those, so he drifted into waking rest after high-night. In the pale moonlight he thought the entrance to the western path seemed smaller.

He was being watched.

~o~

It was the tree at the northern path. In dawn light it did not have the lichens of the trees around it. Was this one of the Ents? It did not look like those he saw from Orthanc but they came in many versions. If it was, Elvish was better than mannish so Nag Kath brushed his hair behind his ears and approached slowly. Stopping when his own shade hit the trunk, Nag Kath said in Sindarin, "Good morning, sir. Are you one of Treebeard's folk?"

With no response, he slowly moved closer until he was about ten feet away and stopped again to repeat his question. After a minute of nothing, Nag Kath turned to pack Nemren. He sensed danger and saw a claw-like branch swinging at him from the corner of his eye. Using the 'fast', he scampered twenty feet away. A man, possibly even an Elf, would have been struck with great force. The creature left the branch in the lowered position, like the curious animals in pools along the coast pretending to be plants until a fish swims too close. The foul-tempered tree could not get him but he needed to get the horse out of here.

Ents have faces and legs. They spoke any number of languages. This must be the sort of tree that settled up with his pod brothers at Helm's Deep. Radagast said they were uncontrolled and angry. Well, if the brute wanted to protect his forest, he was welcome to it. They rode out the path leading east to the Anduin Road.

~o~

There was one more errand, an act of completion.

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

The Elf rose and followed the steward to a pleasant room of the Meduseld now fitted with glass windows. It had almost the same view of the picture he drew sitting on the landing of the steps. Nag Kath bowed to the King who was now in his eighties. Even with the Dunedain of his mother's line, he was an old man.

The King asked, "How long has it been, Nag Kath?"

"Thirty years, or near enough, My Lord."

The King was on his throne after having just meted justice out to bickering landowners in the Eastfold and walked deliberately to the more comfortable chairs of the anti-chamber. The man thought for a moment and said, "I was sorry not to make the wedding. I remember you coming to mine."

"Thank you, Your Highness. Please accept my belated condolences on the loss of Queen Tilleth."

"Thank you for your letter, Lord Kath. She said you encouraged her. Is there something I can do for you?"

"More something I can do for your realm, My Lord. Many years ago, I was given a sword by a Marshal of these lands when I had none. It is a fine weapon and needs to be carried by a worthy man. I was hoping you might bestow it on someone who serves the Mark."

Elfwine whispered to his aide who walked down the corridor and was back shortly with a comely man in his forties. The King said, "Lord Kath, this is Crown Prince Haleth. Perhaps he can help your sword find a home." The King coughed a little and nodded that the interview was over. The Prince bowed to his father before leaving with the Elf through the main doors.

"Kath of the Wargs?"

Nag Kath smiled, "Your grandfather must have been telling stories."

"One of his favorites. I saw you at Prince Eldarion's reception and was sorry to have missed the chance to meet you."

The sword had been left with one of the door guards along with his own as a usual precaution. They were returned and the two knights walked over to sit on a bench along the edge of the large porch. Nag Kath started, "My Lord, this belonged to Lord Altheras ninety years ago. He gave it to me when I had no weapon to slay your grand-da's favorite warg on our way here.

"I was hoping you could give it to one of your own." Nag Kath drew the steel and offered it to the Prince. The strong man hefted it easily and looked at the fittings and motto on the guard.

After a while, Haleth said, "I know a Rohirrim who deserves favor. If you are sure it is time to part ways, I would be honored to present it to him."

"Then I know it will be in good hands. Thank you for taking the time to see me, My Lord."

It being so close to dinner, the Prince insisted that Nag Kath eat with his family. The Elf suspected they wanted to hear a first hand account of the warg-slaying. He would oblige.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~