Chapter 52

The End of the Fellowship

~o~

At the headwaters of the Lest was a growing town, verging on city, called Lhurvasagh. It was pretty, looking out over the grasslands of Gathod. He took a room at a fairly new inn and had dinner. A conversation caught his ear between two tables of western traders from the Anduin route. The inveterate eaves-dropper heard, "I tell you, the son is fine. He has a lot to live up to but he is fine - and no child either."

His opposite number, who had swilled a few of the millet ales already, made the case; "I do not dispute that. I am just saying that the mother was part of the package and she is gone too."

The first man said, "You make a good point. I did not think Elves died."

Nag Kath interrupted, "Your pardon sir, do you speak of the King and Queen?"

The second man looked askance, "Well, they used to be. There's a new King and Queen now. We think he will do a fine job, yes sir!"

His companion commented, "You are long away if you did not know that. He is dead a year and a half and she a year after."

The Elf, maybe the last, leaned back in his chair and said, "You are correct, best of sirs. I have been long in the east. We speak now of King Eldarion and Queen Aranthal?"

"And their young 'uns as prince and princesses."

Nag Kath recovered his grace and said, "Please, young lady, bring a pitcher so we may toast a long and bountiful life for our new liege."

He did not push Orlon but they did not rest either. From here it was three hundred miles to Gates of Morannon and at least a hundred more to Osgiliath. He got there in two weeks. Stopping only for food and rest, he rode to Emyn Arnen with the sun.

Talienne was the first down stairs at mid-day. He did not bow. She held him close and said, "We never know if you will return and want to chide you for having been away so long."

He let her go and said, "I returned to where I was when called to Angmar. I am healed, but only just learned of the King and Queen."

Talienne looked in his eyes and said, "We lost them as written. He named Eldarion as King a few months before the end. Arwen went to Elvish places and is said to have died there of a broken heart."

"How are the new rulers?"

"Fine. They had long prepared for this. The King's bier is near the little mural you repainted so long ago, and the two little Hobbits were interred alongside to complete the Fellowship."

Barahir heard the last bit coming down the stairs and accepted his bow. Nag Kath said to both, "There were two left in the Fellowship. Pray, what news of them?"

The Prince answered, "It is said that the Elf sailed to the Undying Lands and took the Dwarf with him."

Talienne turned to her husband and said, "Uncle Nag has only just heard of the passing."

The great lord put his hand on Nag Kath's shoulder, "Come, we have much to tell."

Men die. Old men always die. The shock for Nag Kath was Arwen. Was that what the King meant when he should take to the sea for him, one more time for his King? It wasn't the King at all. Talienne tried to bring him back. "My dear, we seem to have lost you.

Nag Kath shook his head, "I fear you did. Do you know when Legolas left for Valinor?"

Barahir answered, "One cannot be sure, but I think about six months after the King died, in the same year, certainly."

Nag Kath was quickly lost again. Legolas left before Arwen died and took a Dwarf instead? He was the finest of Dwarves, but not the maid of Lorien. The Elf raised a glass of the fine Dorwinion and said, "To friends here and then, blessings be upon them."

~o~

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Lorien was completely deserted. Had they gone to the Woodland Realm? Nag Kath did not hear him but was prepared for the surprise.

"Orc Six. It has been some time."

"Hello, Master Logass. May I enquire after the excellent Mrs. Logass?"

"Same as ever. Have you come to see the mirror?"

"I tried. It seems the magic is gone with our Lady Arwen, lo, it spoke to me before of things that have yet to pass."

Nag Kath turned to face the gnome, unchanged through the ages. Fighting tears he asked, "Did it have to be thus? Could she not have been the last of her people to cross the waves?"

Logass sat in the grass and stretched his unique legs. "Orc Six, we have enjoyed your visits, here and other forgotten places. You have an innocence both humorous and refreshing betwixt the company of those who know so much, have endured so very much.

"No, she could not have left. Your kind can be killed in war or by injury, certainly many have been since the keepers were created to tend the places they trod, but some can take no joy in watching one more leaf fall to earth. The Lady Arwen embraced mortality. She bound herself to her man so completely that when he died, nothing that remained offered her peace."

Nag Kath reached for his toes to loosen his back. When he pulled his knees into his arms he said, "He never told me, but I think the King wanted me to take her, me or another Elf who left recently. Perhaps the other knew it was impossible but in my ignorance, I might have managed by mishap."

Logass considered that and said, "No, her choice was made, probably irrevocably when she bore her son. These things cannot be altered once put in motion. The Elessar may not have truly understood that."

The Elf, the last and least likely Elf, looked at the thoughtful keeper, "Has her soul gone to Mandos? Will she be there alone when he joins his ancestors in lesser halls beyond the circle?"

Logass chewed on that and confessed, "It is beyond me. We were not told more than we needed to tend these hallowed places. Between us, we will not be here long now. The wood Elves grow old, so slowly that a generation of man could not tell, but they will age and bear no children. When they have left, the keepers will not need to remember deeds and lives with no one to hear."

The keeper said more firmly, "But I become maudlin. What of you? You seem healthy enough."

"I was not invited to cross, Master keeper, perhaps an orc too long to feel the call. I was a curiosity among those who look like me just as I was among your folk. But I have learned to live with men. This is their world now. I wake up curious and caring and glad of every bird and breeze. When that stops I may have to consider My Lady's fate, but it will not be soon. You needn't stay for me, unless it is to tell tales in fellowship."

Logass stretched once more and rose into his crouched stance. "Come, Orc Six, let us find you some dinner. I am certain your new story is better than any before."

As they walked the Elf asked, "I don't suppose you knew Lúthien and Beren?"

~o~

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~o~

From Lorien to Minas Tirith on a good road with a good horse takes something under a month. It seemed forever on his way home. He did not stop at the Glittering Caves or Edoras there or back. They were in new hands now.

Slowly walking up the cobblestones, Nag Kath passed by his old house and then went to Reyaldar and Heuris' home four blocks away. Orlon was still saddled and packed since the Elf did not want to presume on their hospitality. They would of course insist, but he would give them that prerogative. Talienne said they were fine two months ago so they probably still were.

~o~

Mairn the maid opened the door and said, "Welcome back sir. Please come in. If you will make yourself at home, I'll let the Conath's know you are here." Reyald was in the kitchen getting a snack and walked out with a full mouth to a hearty embrace. Heuris came downstairs for her kiss on the cheek. Since nothing ever changed here, it was up to Nag Kath to talk. He told them about the retreats and seeing old friends, Lorien and the dragon pit.

Heuris had never been quite sure what to make of Uncle Nag. He could be off on fanciful adventures with Dwarves and dark lords one day and sipping tea on their couch the next. Talking about Elves was different. Little girls dream of being beautiful princesses, floating in light with perfect grace. Now Uncle Nag was sad because he could not save the most beautiful of them all. She died of a broken heart when her dashing prince could not stay any longer. Heuris understood that.

Rey said, "Uncle, you seem tired. Can you take your rest now?"

The Elf smiled, "I think of it as between engagements. The old evils are gone, some by my own hand. What does one do after that? Unless our new King has errands, I think I will stay much closer until inspiration strikes."

Heuris said, "You are welcome to stay here."

"Thank you. I will for a while. My Syndolan guest list has shrunk. Let me get my things off Orlon …" he looked around the room in jest, " … Daisy, and make him comfortable after a long, hard trip."

Dear King Eldarion Telcontar,

Please accept my belated condolences on the loss of your parents. I am just back from far eastern lands with tidings that may interest you. If I can be of service, I will be here a month and then travel to Dol Amroth for a short time.

Please give my best to Queen Aranthal and all your noble family, NK

He needed clothes for a royal summons, not having replaced most of the moth rags before charging off to the east. Suldath and Leotulden had his measurements so he walked in and told them to make full sets of the usual. They recommended a new boot maker. The Elf made a last stop for ready-made clothes and he had everything he needed.

Heuris arranged family dinners with the various heirs of Dale. Son Field was managing Kathen Properties which involved even less work than it had. He was a splendid fellow but happy with the business as it was. Most of the work involved getting a growing list of heirs their payments. His wife Mazienne gave him four lovely children who were now of marriageable age. They would be the last who automatically qualified for the family income. His younger sister Delandreth, mother of Kathlie, married a man of Rohan which explained the child's wild ginger hair.

Aunt Fëuril never remarried. She had also never forgiven Nag Kath or her father Shurran for ending her wretched marriage. After two invitations to meet the family founder, no one in the family saw the need for a third. Bettes died while Nag Kath was in Angmar and her husband remarried. Simlieo always felt a little awkward with the near-nobility of the Conath/Brand kin. Nag Kath would visit him privately. Their two children were married and would love to have dinner with the famous Uncle Nag! He showed them the dragon picture to acclaim. His big file folios were here and he added to them. When the dust settled, he would ask at the archives for someone who knew Nûradi, although a few of the sheets were ancient Elvish, probably the Black Speech. Both languages had few experts.

~o~

The royal invitation arrived the day after his new clothes so he wore them up the hill. Nag Kath had only spoken briefly with then Prince Eldarion after returning from Angmar and was not at his best. There was fresh news and he might have better wits explaining the old.

King Eldarion used his father's office with new furniture in the same places. The Elf bowed and was welcomed warmly. After they were seated, the King said softly, "Thank you for your note. Mother and father are still very much with me and my sisters."

"I cannot think of a better example for the saying; 'lives well-lived', sir."

The King said, "I agree. It seems our great adventure in Angmar finally came to a successful conclusion. For the longest time it was a decisive attack against a defenseless enemy. Then it was finally won with a flash. I am sorry it was so hard on you, my friend."

The Elf replied, "I went east for healing after the ice cave. I was also concerned that being so close to the evil Witch-stone for all those years might have left me scarred in ways I could not tell. The Dwarves did not benefit from sitting on Smaug's gold."

Eldarion asked about the dragon when Queen Aranthal entered and was greeted with a deep bow. She said graciously, "Please, sir knight, be seated. Are you regaling my husband with great tales?"

"I was, My Lady. We were speaking of the little dragon that burst out of the pit to destroy a palace. I spoke with him before he flew away. Poor thing was confused and unsteady. He had waited thousands of years to ransack an empty building. Then he did not know what to do with himself."

She sipped her tea and said, "And what will you do with yourself, Lord Kath?"

"I have not given myself a satisfactory answer for that question, ma'am. My grandson in Dol Amroth is elderly. I will go see that branch of the family after I have seen the ones here."

The Queen said cheerfully, "Including the ones in Emyn Arnen. They are very dear to us. Our own children are having children now; some of them close in age to your brood."

"You keep better track than their doddering Uncle Nag."

Eldarion became more serious asking, "Lord Kath, please tell me more of Orlo. I do not know his role in all of this."

"I have bits and pieces, Sire. He was a sorcerer or wizard who encouraged dissent among the subjects of the dark princes and servants of Sauron. I only met him twice, the last when he brought me back to life in the ice cave. It was then he said he had turned to spirit to avoid death at Sauron's hands, like Sauron himself escaping Numenor. He was with me in the cave for five years only able to speak three days each year."

Eldarion asked, "So he was effective even reduced."

"Just so, sir. Every man he kept off the Pelennor, and two thousand years of other battles, was one less who could have turned the tide for the enemy. My friends there are his adherents, working in shadow all those generations. They still advocate against dark spirits in the breast of man by holding true to that which is worthy in us."

"And there is no mention of him in lore?"

"He was only of Sauron's lands and not popular with those few who wrote for the archives. In the three retreats, they gather what they can and now write the spoken tales."

Lady Aranthal said, "I hope we are quit of those who wish darkness returned."

"I hope so too, My Lady. That will be harder now, but like the little boy in Angmar, powers find vessels."

Eldarion wondered, "The lad who had the disease?"

Nag Kath realized he had not explained himself well after stumbling back from the ice cave, "Sire, he was the disease, a very powerful sorcerer."

"More powerful than you, Nag Kath?"

"He would have been. The ruler had lesser powers and used the boy for his ends. Another year or two and one of them would have to die. I suspect he left the lad for the orcs coming that night."

The King was surprised by that and asked, "Then you did not fight the orcs?"

"No My Lord. We arrived in the daytime and all but me died of the sorcerous pox. I used a spell to defeat it and killed the child sowing it. The orcs probably stashed bodies in the cave for food in the night and later betrayed the Seer.

The King wondered why the orcs did not fight. The Seer must have planned for Reunited forces to follow the orcs or flank the Seer's troops through the plague village. It was a much nearer thing than they realized at the time. The Queen was a hardened lass of Arnor and understood war. She wondered, "It could not have been men who took you there?"

Against the grim subject, Nag Kath smiled, "Men would have emptied my pockets first."

Lady Aranthal laughed, "There are no such dangers here, sir. We hope to see more of you. Princess Millicend is often here as well."

Eldarion chimed in, "Aye, here or on the farm. Milli's children make their way back and forth as well. Inara is mostly in Dol Amroth or at Lord Kolland's estates in Belfalas. Perhaps you will see them there."

Nag Kath recalled the little girl staring at him painting flowers and smiled. "Perhaps, Sire."

~o~

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~o~

The Elf fell into good habits. He got to know some of the younger Conaths and tried to find someone among the scholars who could read the old Cheyan script. Friends would ask friends. He did not hold his breath.

In December Nag Kath took the ferry to Pelargir and then around the cape to Dol Amroth. Caladrion was holding strong at one hundred and five. He still lived next to Callistra in a split house which was closer to the water so he could walk in the town. There was a pair of new babies. Prince Imrothil was ailing. Lord Kolland and Princess Inariel were staying with family in the citadel.

The Elf bought the house next to Cal's and another little boat for sailing and fishing. There were no Nûrad scholars here. Pushing his luck, he called on the Ambassador of Thân zîrân thinking they were geographically closer than anyone else. He was a good fellow and glad to meet the Elf who started this business but did not recognize the language. They had wine occasionally to discuss the state of play between the Numenoreans and the north.

Time went by slowly. Dol Amroth had not had an inductive healer for twenty years. There were fewer everywhere. The woman he tested in Minas Tirith was still there but she was the only one. That magic was dissipating too. His own was getting stronger. He thought because it was such a mishmash of styles.

Things changed when massive snowstorms hit the windward side of the Nimrais mountains above Lamedon. This side of the range always got more snow than Rohan but weather came in wet and low and stayed. Then it got very cold. A lot of water would be coming down the Ringlo and Morthond Rivers come spring.

In April it got hot, quickly. Folk who could went to their properties inland or sailed elsewhere. Within two weeks, fevers were breaking out in Edhellond. As people fled, it reached Dol Amroth. This area seldom got fevers like the Anduin flats but they had happened.

Having seen more than his share of these, Nag Kath appropriated a hastily abandoned warehouse between the War and Working Harbors and started healing. As water-fevers went this was on the mild side, but it was catching. He drew enough for the person to recover but would not take so much that it drained him. Each night he collapsed on a makeshift cot. A few people who had been cured stayed to brew the vile teas and roots patients should take.

Except for the sick and those who dared to help, citizens of the Island stayed as far above the water as possible. Good folk brought food to the gates though. The fever went on for almost two weeks and then, as fevers often do, vanished. Nag Kath's rough estimate was that over three hundred patients came to the warehouse and most left on their own two feet.

The Elf stumbled to his house and slept like a bear for the next three days but was surprised at how spry he felt waking. The owners of the warehouse were disgruntled. Most people were glad of him, from a distance. Two weeks after that, things were back to normal. Cal had stayed home since the elderly and infants were at greatest risk from these poxes. His housekeeper brought tea when Nag woke.

The rest of the relatives had no idea what to make of him now. They had only ever heard of his wild doings elsewhere. Such things were only supposed to happen elsewhere. He was also supposed to be dead. The Prince's second son Lord Hurmandor remained in the city and proclaimed Nag Kath a Lord of Galador, no one having looked that he already was one. The Elf accepted with good grace.

Catanard season started in a month. The first was the comedy, 'She Never Told Me'. The six seats were to go to Grenda Conath, Cal, Nag Kath, Raniece and her husband and their younger daughter. It never occurred to anyone to find an eligible lady for Uncle Nag. He had a good time just the same and got a man-cart for Cal after two pale wine goblets in the Lion's Beard. With so many great and great, great grandchildren of the original box seat recipient, Nag Kath wasn't in the rotation until the fifth show, a long, dismal tragedy where almost no one lives at the end.

~o~

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The map of Southern Gondor helps here. Im gur period com/gallery/jHPlDU8

In the meantime, reports trickled in that flooding on the Morthond caused a great deal of damage as well as sickness. Bored and needing purpose, the Elf decided to ride that way and be of use. He had seen exotic lands far away but had not even seen most of Gondor. This seemed right-living. Nag Kath bought a Lossarnach mare in Belfalas. Lembas was baked from almost all of the necessary ingredients and he said goodbye.

The western bank of the Ringlo was where the flooding was the worst. With more grade than the low points on the Anduin, it was well within its banks now, but many of the little settlements here were gone. So were most of the people who successfully fled west to the foothills. They were trickling back now. Most farmers were able to get in late wheat planting with vegetables. The fruit trees had mostly blossomed.

Nag Kath spent three weeks in the area helping people recover what they could and chasing a few cows back to their owners. There was healing needed as well. Quite a few fever survivors had trouble with their lungs. Herbs were gathered and he pulled chest complaints.

More people returned from the hills and seemed to have matters in hand so he rode another day upriver where the Ringlo and Morthond merge. The fair-sized town of Glanhir was high enough above the confluence to avoid flooding. Nag Kath took the ferry across the Ringlo and found lodging at a good inn with a stable. Of course, it had a tavern too. Two merchants from the Celenhir, some sixty miles up the Morthond, said there had been flooding where those rivers met. A royal bridge had washed-out and the Governor of Lamedon in Calembel sent a deputation to the White City to ask that it be replaced. They did not know that it would be.

Aragorn liked bridges. Nag Kath knew because he designed and built several of them. The unwritten understanding was that a royal bridge would be funded by the crown using local laborers and then it was the province's responsibility to maintain it. Losing a bridge in a flood wasn't an issue of maintenance but it wasn't the King's obligation to build another either. This was the first such bridge washed away in the reign of Eldarion so the emissaries went with uncertain hopes.

Far away Lamedon did not have the clout of the Principalities. From the area near Erech, it was easier to reach Anórien by using the summer passes into Rohan rather than riding all the way to Dol Amroth and sailing almost the same way you came, that or they could take the same ride Nag Kath did across Belfalas and Lebennin. It was a bountiful region of Gondor but not close to power. These merchants thought the King would build a new one eventually but it might be years before they worked their way up the list.

Nag Kath introduced himself as one of Aragorn's architects and asked about the project saying, "I would be glad to ride there and send my assessment with your good advocates."

The older of the two said, "They may have already gone but it cannot hurt. Getting paid for your work will be harder. If Calembel is the back of beyond to Minas Tirith, the Celenhir is the same to Calembel. And the Magister is, shall we say, frugal."

The other man said with a laugh, "He still has his first two silvers to rub together."

The older grinned, "As I said, do not go expecting a fat commission as your advocacy."

Nag Kath said, "I will go anyway and perhaps earn an ale and a bed. Who is this parsimonious administrator?"

The younger said, "Name of Horus Delathannan. His man Kimbrand sees to the roads but not the purse. I would start with Kimbrand."

~o~

The Elf spent a day loafing around the pleasant town and took the ferry across the Morthond the next morning. His mare, Eliesse, was better on water than Nemren and they pushed onto the bank half a bell later. The road veered away from the river on the west bank avoiding low bogs for the first two days and then followed it closely for the next two until reaching what was left of the bridge across the Celenhir. A makeshift ferry had been hastily built using a winch horse that would rather be anywhere else. Nag Kath camped on the south bank and sketched the footings in some detail before crossing the next day. He drew that side too. The town supported by this road was another five miles north on this side of the Morthond.

Fheren-Rhan was no great city but it had inns, stables and taverns like every other hamlet in Gondor. It might boast a thousand souls on market day. Once over the river in Glanhir, the main road all the way to Erech was on this side so losing the bridge mattered to the town and trade along the entire river. Nag Kath walked the city alone, as he usually did in new places, and inquired of Mr. Kimbrand.

For some reason, he thought Kimbrand would be a bright young spark moving up in the local order. Mr. Kimbrand was sixty if he was a day and moved no faster than the winch horse. Undaunted, the Elf said, "Good afternoon, sir. I am Nag Kath and wanted to offer my services to help you rebuild your bridge."

Kimbrand saw in Nag Kath what Nag Kath expected of Kimbrand. The first thing out of his mouth was, "You'll not see a copper. That's a royal bridge. The county has no funds for it because the province has not approved it and that's because we don't know if King Eldarion will pay for another. Do I make myself clear, young man?"

"Oh, I don't need any money. I will sketch a replacement and notes your fellows can take to the White City and plead your case."

"Are you mad or simple?"

"Both, but I know bridges and I know the King. Take it or leave it."

"Forgive my petulance, young man. It should be me showing you patience and wisdom. Now, what did you have in mind?"

Nag Kath answered, "I have made drawings of both foundations. The one on this side is good. The other will need to be rebuilt. I think the river channel needs to be dug deeper on the north bank to protect the south. Give me a few days to make my drawings and I will return for your assessment."

"That is the fairest offer I've gotten since I married off my niece; a woman neither pleasant nor favored. What do you need from me?"

"Can you recommend an inn with a good cook?"

~o~

True to his word, the Elf rode Eliesse back to the north bank and sketched what was needed. Kimbrand did not have the original plans or even a drawing of the bridge during the seventy years it stood. Like Tharbad and Osgiliath, it had a center support sunk into the riverbed that was intact but the top had been torn off when the span twisted in the flood. It could be rebuilt. By the end of the day he had his rough drawings and by the end of the next he had something for Mr. Kimbrand. The man was optimistic. They talked about where to get new stone and how many men could be retained if the Purse of the White City dribbled a few groats this way. Kimbrand suggested they have dinner the next evening with Magister Delathannan, again with the caveat that there was no budget.

As it happened, the Magister was already having dinner with a Magister Bennenthar of Rendûl, a city of about two thousand another eighty miles up the Morthond. The bridge was part-and-parcel of his business with a fellow administrator so they would all meet at the Magister's home the next evening.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kath. This is Mr. Bennenthar. Now, you are visiting from Dol Amroth, is it?"

"I am, Mr. Delathannan. As it happens, I am a bridge engineer and heard of the troubles just downstream."

The Magister wasn't sure of the young man's interest but he was here and Kimbrand said he had been of service. Both Magisters' problem was that they were on the wrong side of the province. The Cirith was no great river but that was home to the ill-placed capital. Every river here was destined for Dol Amroth. None of them were navigable the entire way because of rapids and falls, another reason replacing the bridge mattered.

They sat down and were served wine. Magister Bennenthar asked, "It is none of my concern but what did you have in mind, young sir?"

The Elf thought a moment and said, "I did a rough sketch of how I would construct a new bridge. If it meets with your approval, I would leave it with you and write a letter to King Eldarion on your behalf. You gentlemen would have to supply the costs since I do not know the price of stone and men in this community." He could have just given them a diamond but this needed local initiative too.

Delathannan announced quickly to cut-short anything the young engineer might say about compensation, "That is most generous, young sir."

The administrator would look at the drawings in the morning, for all the good they thought the fellow's letter to the King of the Reunified Kingdom would do. That freed the rest of the evening for other matters. Towards the end of the meal, Kimbrand, of an age to speak his mind in any company, said to the northern Magister, "Mr. Bennenthar, we had the queerest news that there were ghosts seen near Erech again."

The man replied, "People have always been frightened in those mountains. Womanish vapors if you ask me."

Delethannan kept the thread going, "Come now, they certainly had been there in their thousands. Might there not be a few left?"

Since he could not get out of this by being dismissive, the man replied, "I have never seen them but I have only been to Erech the town, not the stone. It is the mountains off to the east where these wives-tales are spawned."

Elf ears were interested, "Your pardon, gentlemen, is this the army of the dead recalled by Elessar, newly raised to lordship?"

Kimbrand answered, "The same, then freed after honoring their vows to Isuldur. Do you know those mountains, Mr. Kath?"

"I know them well from the other side. This is my first visit to the windward."

Having shown he was not a gossip, Bennenthar was as interested as everyone else, "There is a great round stone said placed there by Elendil. I cannot imagine it coming from elsewhere but it is of different rock than those around. That is where the men of those mountains swore their oath to the ring bearer."

The curious young fellow asked in earnest, "Did the stone have powers or was that merely the meeting place for their commitment?"

Kimbrand, who had been there when he was the age they assumed Nag Kath to be, wondered, "Who knows? I only raised the question because a company of merchants bought enough silver on our side that it was worth using the Morthond Road. The first ferry was unstable and they grudgingly waited until another was fashioned before making for the coast. Their kinsmen said there were sightings when the great green shock was felt, when was that, my friends?"

Delethannan finished his mouthful and said, "Five years, there abouts."

Magister Bennenthar was here to discuss other concerns as well as the bridge. From his city, merchants could take inland routes to bypass most of the rough ground around the Celenhir but there were fords on that side as well, none of them bridged, a hard road for wagons. As the two administrators for the western part of the province, they needed to unite their voices to make their wheels squeak loudly in councils. He was staying a few more days before the five day trip home.

Nag Kath said as offhandedly as possible, "Then, sir, if you would like the company, may I join you as an extra trooper on your journey?"

"Certainly, and welcomed. There are few troublemakers on that stretch but perhaps fewer with an armed party. You look like you can swing a sword."

"At need, best of sirs. At need."

~o~

With time, the Elf did more detailed sketches with copies for both sides and wrote a letter in Sindarin to King Eldarion since he knew the man spoke it and nobody between here and there would. This was not especially secret or biased one way or the other. He had done many such assessments for Aragorn on the aqueduct and other road projects.

Still amazed they were not presented with a bill, his hosts thanked the youngster as he joined the Magister's company of two outriders following the Morthond due north. Two days out they crossed the bridge on a smaller river and took rooms at an inn that brewed a heartier ale than below. The road was good and elevated from the river. Wagons still came this way and took the ferry.

They crossed another bridge at noon of the fourth day and camped just on the other side. It took that long for the escort riders to say much to the tall, blonde rider. As bandits go, the risk was always greater that the man with them was secretly working with others. Bennenthar knew better, but it was the escorts' job to watch for such things. Now in their home turf, they knew the bad 'uns.

The next morning they crossed a toll-bridge. This had been built by the town of Nimrais Fennan before the royal bridges, which entitled them to payment from those wanting to keep their feet dry. They were not about to charge their own Magister's party, but did not share tolls with the county either. It appeared to the engineer among them that tolls were not going into upkeep.

They arrived in Rendûl a few hours before sunset. Unusually, the river leading to the Morthond came from mountains to the east dividing the flows here or to the Ciril. Rendûl was a working market town of farmers and a few craftsmen. Like the ferry in Dunland, the eastern river broadened the stream enough for floated logs from above to be gathered and sawed into planks for use here or downstream. The no-cost extra guard had dinner with Bennenthar and his family and slept in a feather bed in their home, locking the door against a lovelorn daughter at odds with her husband.

Erech was another hundred miles north into a deep mountain valley. The lay of the land put it the same distance from the capital Calembel with a good road that not many folk had reason to use since it was easier to get ore and metal pigs down the river road. Everything ended-up at Glanhir anyway.

Climbing into the foothills there was considerably more deep forest than in the river valley leading to Rendûl. They did not feel ominous. He took his time but did not camp or travel with others because Eliesse had come into season. Even at a distance, she and would-be admirers called to each other.

~o~

That ended about the time he reached Erech, a fair town of fifteen hundred and the last place of any size in central Gondor. An inn had its own stable with a single stall against stallions still interested. Nag Kath took his leisure and lolled around the market town innocently gathering information. At two taverns there was no shortage of ghost stories. Most were old but more recent accounts bled in.

The Elf ate often, eaves-dropping on four local doyens chatting publicly about the stone. It was something to be avoided for people of wisdom but many had been there in their youth, proof of bravery and for fun in full daylight. Having been there entitled one to opinions for life. They prattled-on about another friend's daughter who walked there with townsfolk, properly chaperoned, mind, and felt strange humors. That could be from the excitement of a genuine and confirmed place of great magic.

It would have been one story among the many but the girl, a comely lass nearing marriageable age, had shown other signs of being close to the spirit world. The women were aware of the handsome stranger two tables over and didn't mind him saying, "Your pardon, ladies. I could not help but overhear your informed conversation. Do you speak of the Brelland daughter?" He used the sign on a storage depot thinking its namesake might still be here.

The largest and most opinionated of them said, "No, not her. This is Miss Clellid, a proper and esteemed family of Erech!"

"It must have been a terrible shock to be affected thusly."

Another of the busybodies added, "Her mother did not say as much, only that the daughter seemed thoughtful and wondering of those now gone. It is said spirits remain in those hills to the east."

A third in their group said, "Silly talk of old ladies, good sir. My friends return to this theme when we have nothing else to discuss."

The first said in good cheer, "Now, Grace, you know that is both untrue and unkind. Young man, there have been reports of that region since I was a girl, longer ago than I will confess. Farmers in those mountain villages are always in confusion and arguing."

The fourth woman finally made her case, "That is because of all the trolls in their day. Dead armies are bad enough but those trolls were the real menace!"

The Elf said affably, "Well, I hope they are long gone."

~o~

The Clellid family had a small smithy making parts for wagons, households and whatever else someone wanted. They were blessed with three children; a girl and boy already married and the younger lass still at home. By the most fortunate coincidence, the tall traveler needed a new stirrup bolt. With previous orders they could not get to it for another day but he could count on the best craftsmanship in all of Erech!

Daughter Tulieri brought her da and brother their lunch every day. The customer just happened to be there placing his order. He bowed in city fashion to the attractive young lady. A handshake would have told him what he needed to know but that was not a country custom among women. Unexpectedly, the sure-handed girl dropped the breaded cutlet she was handing to her father and the customer was right there to catch it, handing it to her with the slightest touching of skin. Tulieri curtsied in thanks, kissed her da and went home.

She had it. Faint, but there. Nag Kath could not tell sorcery but she could be a healer if she knew and applied herself. That was not a vocation he would wish on anyone. Like Tal, a suitable young man would prefer a family. The Elf would arrange a conversation with her, and wouldn't you know it, he lost his fishhooks along the river!

At lunch time the next day, he was back for his stirrup bolt and wanted to see if they could fashion new fishhooks. Brother Tuliesh said he could forge them in just a few moments if the gentleman could wait. The gentleman could.

When lunch arrived, he bowed again as a city man and said to the smith, "Now what is this about ghosts east of town? I tell you, the tavern was nothing but yarns about demons and specters."

Older Mr. Clellid opined, "It is as you said, yarns told over evening beverages."

The younger man teased his blushing sister, "Not according to some I know."

Tulieri smiled bashfully and spoke for the first time in the presence of the dashing fisherman, "Brother, you defame me before your customer."

Her da defended too, "Aye, we are craftsmen of fair goods, not idle chatter."

Chastened, brother begged pardon. But the hook was set. The tall fellow turned to the lass, "Forgive me if this is not for my ears …" which were covered by his hair "… but have you been to this legendary stone?"

She blushed again and held her hands together looking down, managing to say, "I was there only a month ago with a respectable group of townsmen and women. It is our only claim to fame in sleepy Erech and some have picnics there."

Brother couldn't hold his tongue long, "It is long said that after the great army joined the Elessar, some lingered, cowards!"

The blonde offered, "Or just late. In militia training, there are always men or even squads who arrive after they should. I don't see why dead soldiers should be any more punctual."

Da chuckled, "I had not considered that but you are right. I myself arrived at the nine-bell when I should have been there at eight, got to carry oats in penance for my inattention."

The unexplained visitor said, "Well, since I am here, I suppose I should say I saw this local landmark. There are those in the city who daily bless the spirits of your lands who finally earned their rest. It might get me an ale or two in the telling."

Brother managed to break one of the hooks for lack of focus, stabbing himself in the finger. "Dougsh! My craft suffers."

Da said, "Hear, hear! Such language is not for your maiden sister's or paying customer's ears. Get thee home so your mother can heal that clumsy finger and be back here to complete your charge. Off you go. Daughter, make sure he doesn't trip over his feet on the way!"

To the Elf the smith added, "It might be another hour before your hooks, which is my fault."

"Please, sir, I have other business in the town and can return, if not later, tomorrow at this time. Think no more of it."

~o~

The next day Tulieri arrived with enough lunch for all of them. The tall man was invited to join and asked of his journeys to this out-of-the-way hamlet. Having planned this he said, "I had business in Rendûl and then thought to visit family in Edoras taking the summer passes. I confess; I am a poor sailor and prefer land under my feet."

Brother, whose finger quickly healed, offered, "Not a bad crossing this time of year. The trail is plainly marked."

Nag Kath said, "Miss, if it is not unseemly, how does one reach this storied rock?"

"It is just east of us, five miles climbing into the mountains. For such a steed as yours, not any great distance."

The blonde man, not a lad after Angmar, said strongly, "Now I caution myself! I shudder to imagine fell ghosts confronting me for trespass." He looked directly at the maiden, "What would one say to such a malingerer?"

"They hardly noticed one such as me, good sir."

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~

The huge, rounded stone was sunk in the earth as if dropped from heaven. There had been picnics and campfires nearby over the years. Young men slept here at night to prove their courage. Nag Kath was the only soul near and had not passed anyone returning. For a summer day, there was a chill in the air.

By accounts, the ghost army was in the mountains due north. This was just the place they had pledged their service and were reminded of it by Aragorn. Isuldur bound these men in his cause using the One Ring. They refused to fight against Sauron who they had worshiped before the Numenoreans seized these lands. They died as men but their spirits lingered from Isuldur's curse.

The ring was the only sorcery used, and not by Sauron's hand. The Angmarach had no part in this, other than to die as his armies were slaughtered by these spirits. One would think any of them left behind would have been released in the unmaking but credible folk felt them here.

Nag Kath approached the stone and held his palms against the pitted surface to summon them. The sensation was slow in coming. The girl said they hardly noticed her, but hardly is quite a bit. His touch was a clarion. They would arrive at night.

When the crescent moon was up, shadows of men swirled, constantly reforming in the slight breeze. Nag Kath counted eight of them. Their women must have gone to their ancestors after natural lives lived in shame. He walked towards them unarmed. They would not fear steel. A voice from their direction but not attributable to any asked, "Who are you to summon the dead?"

"Ah, but you are not dead, not in the sense that you have gone to the halls of those who truly died."

"And what keeps us from killing you, foolish man?"

"I am not a man, and I have already been dead. I would hear your plea and help if I can."

The specters had to consider that. They were more mist than he remembered in his cell. These were more than reflections of men who had walked the earth. They wielded terrible weapons against the orcs and men storming Minas Tirith. The spirits of the Dead Marshes had not had that ability restored to them, but they were getting closer before the child sorcerer died.

While the soldiers thought, Nag Kath added, "I have put thousands of cursed spirits to rest. I will do the same for you if it is within my power."

One of the ghosts floated towards him and demanded, "What price would you extract, were you capable of such release?"

"None. I have already been paid in full. Come, tell me why you are still here and how many of you remain."

Another of them came forth. He seemed an older man, not that that would matter after three thousand years of disembodiment, but he may have been an elder in the time of trust. There was no sitting over tea with this lot. They floated above where they would have stood, taller than the tall Elf.

The man said in a low, grave voice, "We could not reach our army. The vast caves under the mountain were our home without flesh. When they left, the way was resealed. We linger in torment."

Nag Kath noted, "But you appear to me now, brave knight."

"The spirit of a spirit. Our more potent selves are still entombed."

The first ghost, who seemed to be the war leader, said with disdain, "Here is another tourist come to prove his manhood. In the cavern I would take his head and add it to the skulls long moldered!"

Acting the hayseed had its uses but this was the time to show what else he claimed. Using a bringing spell, not certain to work on the spirit of a spirit, Nag Kath jerked the war leader to him just as his former King had surprised another war leader to enforce his rightful claim to the crown.

The ghost's throat was gripped by Nag Kath's hand like a person and he heard, "If there is a chance at all, this is your last. Take me to your place of death and I will use such small powers as I have to aid. I make no warranty. I am not a King. I am the last Elf. Accept that freely or I will return to my home and leave you here to curse your sloth."

He released the ghost who was stunned by physical force so long past. The older, wiser spirit spoke to him silently and said to Nag Kath, "We accept your offer, but cannot take you with us. It is a two day ride to our prison. Such as you will know the path. Secure your horse in the rock paddock to the left as she will flee at our nearness. We will prepare."

They were gone. Eliesse never noticed them. Aragorn and Gimli both told the Elf that their horses, seasoned war-mounts, had bolted uncontrollably nearing the Dunharrow side of their gaol. Whatever was waiting there still had lethal power.

~o~

The road continued on the west side of the river, now fordable without swimming. There were little towns of farmers who looked at him strangely. He stayed with one of them, paying what the couple thought was a princely sum of five groats for him to rest in the straw. This was also the road to the Rohan pass so there was no presumption he was knocking on the gates of the dead. When the pass road forked off to the left, he followed his nose straight up the barest of trails into the rocks.

There was almost no life, not even the scraggly bushes of Mordor. It seemed as if crags were covered in dry mud and no plant ever pushed through. Eliesse was on guard. They picked their way over the slate and gravel until arriving at what seemed a rough arch leading into the cliff. As told, there was a natural paddock of rock to the side. Nag Kath dumped his sack of oats and tied the mare loosely with his rope to another rock. If he never emerged, she would get free.

He had no torch. Light dimmed walking down a long corridor with the last of the sun before he turned into a larger hall. He counted his slow steps while letting his eyes adapt. Forty paces in, the blackness was complete so he lit his hand silver showing steep caverns below. They had to come to him.

They did.

Swirls of faint light gathered and dissipated around his ankles, seeming yap-dogs to his intrusion. They flared and left. An eternity of minutes passed before the wise ghost came before him, much easier to see here than by moonlight. The man said in great sorrow, "You are braver than we have been, to our shame. Seventy-four of us remain; most late, some frozen by fear when we were called. How long ago was that? There is no time here."

"One hundred twenty five years ago. I remember your kind in the battle. I was the enemy then but was spared. In my secret mind I wonder that it was to complete these tasks."

Two more of the apparitions appeared. They might all be there and simply not visible. Nag Kath spoke as if to each of them. A sergeant asked, "How were our brothers released?"

"They joined in battle against the armies of Sauron. When the field was won, the King said their oath was fulfilled and they faded away, I hope to join their parents in noble halls beyond the circle." Some of them would have been relatives of those here now.

The warrior formed and asked less harshly than at the stone, "And was their oath complete? Did our people serve as they should have long ago?"

Nag Kath considered that before saying, "Yes. It was not in victory or loss. It was that they tried, still a near thing against such terrible foes. It is not my place to say, but I think King Elessar acquitted you all."

In sadness, the war leader said, "If so, what can you do to give us a better death than the ones we have endured?"

The Elf called out, "Show yourselves to me!"

Gradually, shadows of men formed, their dim lights showing the cavern was quite large. There were no signs of living; no cooking or sleeping or rooms. These people simply floated after everything that made them men turned to dust.

Nag Kath raised his hands and tried a spell he had only imagined. It was the humor to take orc from man and send it into the night. These were not former orcs. It was the good in them he wanted to pull, not the evil. Still, it was the only spell he had and their last Third Age remedy.

Both hands glowed bright silver. It became its own mist over the heads of the ghosts. The spell was painful for him to hold but in a few minutes, their own faint yellow essence drifted up to meet his silver cloud until both vanished. He fell on his backside like he had in the Angmar hut and looked into the blackness. None spoke to him. He hoped they went where they should. After an eternity rising and counting his steps in what seemed the right direction, he saw the glimpse of afternoon sun and walked outside.

~o~

Eliesse was gone. Her halter was still attached to the rope around the rock. The saddle and pack were still there so he stumbled to it for water and a bite of Lembas. Then he slept.

It might have been a day later, perhaps two, but when he opened his eyes, she was eating what was left of the oats. No words would come until he unstuck his tongue with a sip of water. Then he said, "Forgive me, old girl. I have been keeping odd company. Come; let us return to the living."

Nag Kath rode back to the inn in Erech. There was no use telling anyone here what had happened. He did not tell the smithy that his daughter, and probably his wife, were healers. It would only cause them pain.

~o~

~o~o~o~

~o~