Chapter 54

Back and Forth

~o~

Caladrion said warmly "Welcome back, Nag. Did you have great adventures?"

"Chasing ghosts."

Cal took that figuratively. Then he added, "Our family is fine. Prince Dalrothil died a month after you left. Prince Armandor has taken the office."

Nag Kath wondered a moment, "Haven't met him, met his brother after the fevers."

"Are you back for a while?"

"Between here and Gondor. Dol Amroth is very fair, but I find it hard to stay anywhere very long at leisure."

Caladrion thought he meant at leisure without a woman. Nag Kath could stand idleness in the company of a lady love. With Phylless he had been here five and six years at a stretch. Cal had the best of lady loves and missed her every day. The old friends had more in common than appeared. The retired counselor wasn't alone often with so many offspring and managed the gaps with grace.

They were sitting on Caladrion's porch watching the last rays of the sun on the harbor. A large ship was docking. The fishing boats were long in. Cal took a sip of the cool tea and asked, "Seriously, what did you do upriver?"

"I helped a town rebuild a bridge and I freed the remaining army of the dead in Erech. There were only seventy ... something ... of them. Hopefully that was the last of the One Ring."

Cal looked at the Elf and grinned, "Well, I did ask."

Nag Kath added, "We might keep that between us. Your great grandchildren hardly speak to me after the healing." He smiled, "I think this is a place where I should be ordinary."

Cal agreed, "Yes, good old Dol Amroth. It does change from time to time. The Princely family spends more time at their estates. We are fair crowded with Lords."

"Gondor is not used to that. There was no King for, what, nine hundred years? Then there was one King for over a century with only one heir who has one son. Dale was short on heirs for a while too. They have enough now, same with Rohan. But this place is three and four sons deep going back before me. They are marrying rich merchant's daughters."

Caladrion smiled to say, "Lord Kolland's second boy did rather well."

"Kolland?"

"Princess Inariel."

"I know the older children better."

~o~

Five months away made Uncle Nag more palatable with the younger relatives. There were always babies to burp and sing to. He did what he usually did and now had a new pile of papers he could not understand. It seemed almost Elvish, but most things did if you went back far enough. Elvish languages changed constantly as empires came and went. None of the scholars he contacted knew what they were. Perhaps the keepers would.

~o~

Year 123 of the Fourth Age started badly. Field Ivandred, son of Cal and Eniecia, had a heart seizure. He was more Northman than Dunedain and at age 83, that was a long run. The man lingered two months and was alert in that time but a second event stole him in his sleep.

Cal took it very hard. He could understand outliving his lovely wife but not his son, feeling guilty that he could not have passed his father's long life to his children. Callistra was 81 and still strong. She comforted her da. Nag Kath just had to be there. He was the greatest example of outliving the loved. They didn't even have to speak.

Field's wife Grenda was already failing. Field had been glad that he would be there to support her until his heart let them both down. Raniece and Borond took her mother into the large home inherited from Nag Kath. The woman kept trying to walk into rooms that weren't there or talking to Field as if he was sitting next to her. She knew she knew Nag Kath, but was not sure why.

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Having money helped. The Conaths were already comfortable when Nag Kath gave a great sum to Reyald and Ardatha. Those properties had grown in value by the time Eniecia and Shurran came into their legacy. The families inherited Nag Kath's estate when he was declared eaten by wargs. He didn't care since he still had cash, his curious trust and a handful of Elf diamonds. Raniece used it to expand the house with separate quarters for her mother's long-time maid and another caring companion. When Grenda wanted company, family was there. When she needed quiet, help was waiting.

The Ivandreds were near the highest status in the closed world of Dol Amroth. They were not among the wealthiest fifty families, but they were close. With the diversity of their holdings, much of which was still in the White City, they were virtually immune to the slow erosion of Dol Amroth as a major trading port. The Principality was a Navy town when the world enjoyed the Peace of the King. That was why Princely heirs took their inland holdings much more seriously in the second century.

It helped Cal to visit his daughter-in-law. At times she was her usual self and at other times in a world of the past. Nag Kath would come along too and retell his fanciful adventures. Others in the family would join them and sometimes have dinner after the old lady retired. A whole new generation of Ivandreds got to wonder who Uncle Nag was.

That was clarified slightly. Siorscia, Menalgir and Halita's daughter, had a difficult labor when the baby breached. Called in with the emergency, the Elf was able to turn the child in the womb with a bringing spell for a normal birth. Halita, who had been horrified when Sorcia had a stomach blockage as an infant, saw the Elf use the same silver aura over the same belly for another successful outcome. Nag Kath had done the procedure many years ago for a woman with a fever who went into labor. Babies and infants are much more open to magic and it was an easy, safe spell. They named the little girl Heiri.

Raniece wrote Talienne who she knew was in Rohan with Barahir. When they returned they would try to visit. That was not easy. Barahir inherited both the title of Prince of Ithilien and Steward of Gondor, but not of the Reunited Kingdom. Arnor had its own Steward. When Eldarion was there, Barahir had to stay in Minas Tirith. The principality was created for Faramir when Steward was the larger task.

By the second century that was reversed. Ithilien was a powerful fief with Osgiliath again the largest city in the world. The Steward position was an anachronism now that the King was a grandfather. Old habits die hard. There was an understanding among the royals that Barahir's son Tyaldran would decline the honor.

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Winter became spring. There were no water-fevers on the Sirith. The red Odar were running near the rocks. With Cal himself again, Nag Kath thought it was time to see Minas Tirith. Part of the reason for coming was that Eldarion was on his every-other-year trip to Annúminas which would put Barahir and Talienne in the palace. It would be good to give her family news of Dol Amroth and see the Conath brood.

Now in the strong melt season on the Great River, He rode Eliesse across Belfalas through the red-wine counties to the Serni river mouth city of Linhir. It was an actual city and growing thanks to its proximity to the Ethir Anduin. Nag Kath took his leisure for a few days and then rode the royal highway to Pelargir. From there it was the familiar road to the White City.

Rey and Heuris were their usual selves and glad to see the Elf. He stayed with them until the lease on his house was up the next month with plans to move back there after buying it back from them for five groats. Barahir and Talienne were already here. They met often and included the Conath clan in larger settings. Living most of the time in isolated Emyn Arnen, the Prince and Princess enjoyed entertaining in the capital. Their younger daughter Ivriniel and her new husband Kinnestrath were with them.

After their second dinner when the other family retired, Nag Kath told the couple, "Last year I went to Erech. There were reports that spirits in the mountain were restless. About seventy of the cursed were trapped in the caverns and I was able to free them. I could not be sure that King Aragorn's forgiveness applied, but I took the liberty. I will tell King Eldarion when he is back. For now, only we and Caladrion know."

Barahir held his chin in Princely fashion and agreed, "Yes, people of today cannot imagine those things anymore. It is one thing to recite old stories. It is another to live in that world. That is the last of Sauron?"

"One cannot be sure, but I think it is the last of Isuldur. He was a powerful sorcerer with the ring. It would have eventually brought him to the dark lord's service like the Witch-King."

Barahir lamented, "He did not write much but his notes during the short reign were disordered compared to the great deeds he accomplished before the Last Alliance. It was surely for the better that he did not possess the ring long, though it nearly returned to its master just the same."

Uncle Nag teased, "Beetling through the archives again?"

The Prince smiled, "I have them brought here."

Talienne contributed, "I look too. The scholars do not like papers leaving their catacombs but if the Steward wants them, the Steward gets them."

The Elf asked, "Have you done anything further on romantic history?"

Barahir answered, "Not much. I have these other jobs that interfere. I think that story will write itself when the time is ripe."

Nag Kath said, "I did not tell you but I spoke to the head Elf-keeper at My Lady Arwen's grave. He was alive when Lúthien and Beren were but never met them. The Keepers mainly go where Elves have been, not where they are. Doriath was where Mirkwood is now but all of the mountains and rivers are different. When the Valar fight, the battlefield suffers. Master Logass would not say if his kind were there. I doubt there is anything left to remember."

Talienne was sad she could not visit her mother. Nag Kath offered to take her. She would need an Ithilien escort because of her rank but that seemed the only way now. Her sister wrote often, with assured delivery by royal messengers. It was not the same as being there to honor her dear father.

On the first of June, Nag Kath took possession of his old home and started the project of making it his own. The two upper floors were in fair condition but needed minor work and furnishings. The first-floor storage mostly needed to be discarded or given to the needy. He left the gold and circlet where they were but collected the diamonds resting on one of the ceiling timbers.

Fieldar Conath, who was becoming a better friend, handled everything in Minas Tirith now. It was a gentleman's position with paid staff in the office but he did watch the books. At thirty-nine, he still shot with the Pelennor Third infantry and could peg a demi-cask at fifty paces. His son Brandar and cousin Urandict were good shots too, keeping that line of heroes intact.

Through the Kathen office, builders were engaged for renovations and folk who furnished the properties did the same. A new feather bed was the hardest thing to locate but they managed. It took two months but when the list was done, Nag Kath had strong tea on his porch and imagined the past Syndolan parties as if they were the night before. Every generation likes to think they had it better than the ones that come after, unless complaining how much easier the youngsters have it. Now in his sixth generation of adopted family, they were blending together.

His first official dinner using two women hired for the night was entertaining Lorandis and Urandict's families. They always marveled at Uncle Nag's pictures. Their young children had no idea that the tall man was any sort of relative. They knew their relatives. They liked the pictures and hearing about the great kings of their past.

During renovations, Nag Kath visited the Osgiliath office of Kathen. It was now Ilvest and Kathen owing to a joining of firms by marriage. The Elf was more a favored customer than founder now with the same generous terms he always gave. They were nice folks and honest too. Rents were sent through the Royal Bank across the river and Fieldar divvied them according to share. The Elf's went to his account.

It was also time for a visit to said bank. He left a supply of diamonds in the vault which Hellistar Jewelers could claim by paying a set price. When he was frozen in Angmar, those diamonds were exhausted and old man Hellistar retired in comfort. Fieldar told him quietly that the man running that business now was not trustworthy so Nag Kath visited a jeweler Fieldar recommended and found the owner liked the idea of an exclusive supply of rare stones in his inventory. Gregith and Gregith would get rough diamonds and have to prepare them since there were now more of those than the stones the Dwarves had finished long before. Pricing was based on what they found once irreversible work was done.

In militia training Nag Kath taught in all four weekly sessions, sometimes on horse and sometimes with the bow alongside Fieldar, Urandict and Brandar. They knew better than to bet against him but kept their mouths shut when others in the Third Pelennor got cocky. The Elf also held a slow-swords class for all comers. Eliesse went into season again so he had her bred to a stallion one of the Lossarnach agents in the city suggested and rode Orlon throughout.

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In November the King and Queen returned with all their children. Eldarion was eighty and looked forty. The pure blood of a Dunedain father and immortal blood of Arwen might keep him alive as long as kings of yore. Millicend who stayed here seemed more like a regular woman but she was healthy with a personality that being near her made one feel better. The younger girl was said to age slowly too.

Nag Kath was welcomed by Eldarion with another round of dinners and greetings. The King agreed the dead army was a Nag-Kath fable that should remain buried. Eldarion was quite interested in Lamedon, though. He had only been there once thirty years ago. It was a large portion of his realm to get so little attention. He said he would attend the bridge funding.

With a week of transition, the Steward handed the reins of government back to his sovereign and returned to Emyn Arnen with the in-law Elf alongside. The older children had done a fine job of maintaining the Principality although Tyaldran had a split lip from the same sort of errant militiamen as his da trained at the same age.

It wasn't until then that Barahir explained he had resigned his Stewardship when the King returned. Crown Prince Elhidron was fifty and his son was twenty two. The realm was in good hands. Elhidron discussed it with uncle Barahir and they agreed the younger man was ready for that role if his father agreed. His father did and the documents were signed with an announcement to follow.

Barahir's time was his own to a much greater extent than it had been. He and Talienne would visit Dol Amroth next year. In addition to honoring her father, there were ties that bound in Imrahil's family. Ithilien bordered the east side of the Anduin all the way to the Poros with a vast economic stake in the river trade.

For the first time in twenty-five years, Nag Kath took his leisure in Emyn Arnen. He read in the library, got to know his little great, great, great, greats who ranged from two to seven and looked just like their dark-haired mother Deriandrie. In keeping with the family tradition, little Arathorn had groats in his ears.

~o~

After a few weeks at home, Nag Kath, Barahir and two guards rode to Emyn Vierald for a look at the former Elven haven. It was full of folk farming and making and raising more folk. The mayor insisted on a grand banquet of the fine foods raised there. They were too late for the strange dividing fruit Nag Kath brought back. The seeds would not grow anywhere else. Nag Kath explained their origins to tepid interest.

Unshared with anyone else, the two scholars wanted to see if there were any Elf-keepers. There weren't. Legolas' followers were not here long and were not stewards of lore to be preserved. It was still a pleasant three day ride to part of the Prince's domain and fully justified. The Elf grinned walking by Barahir's home of the Elves in joining. They stayed for three days including a ride to the River Telengaur. It tested clean. Farms stretched all the way from the community past the river now.

Nag Kath stayed another week with the Princes and then spent a while in Osgiliath. He wanted to get a few herbs and a better sense of the growing city on both sides. Jeffer Ilvest, Tumfred's son-in-law, gave the silent partner a tour of the properties in the right-living trust. It was the last rental property the Elf owned, but quite a bit since it had never been reduced by gifts or dying. Unlike in Minas Tirith or Dale, these were mostly large, commercial buildings on long-term leases. It took a lot of work to make them ready but not much after that.

He stayed in the Great River, one of his favorite places to loaf, and watched people go by. This was definitely the art and culture capital of Gondor now with more sculptors and painters than across the river. Eight years ago the city fathers began an Autumn Festival for art and music that drew large crowds. Nag Kath was too late for this one but promised himself he would visit for fresh ideas. He saw several galleries and an exhibition with good pieces, buying two small bronzes to be sent to his home.

If he was going to be in the White City, he would live like it. A hasty Syndolan party was organized. There would be no Hobbits and only one Dwarf but there were enough family and friends of family to spread the word. Delandreth's daughter Maiarne was named as Neurae for the evening. Nag Kath hired a permanent daytime cook/cleaner named Thorowyn and she hired a friend to make finger-foods for an uncertain number of guests. Alas, fireworks had gone out of style. Aragorn shot the last of his powders into the Mordor sky to bring Nag Kath out of the east with the one survivor used to signal the Prince's troops around the claw of Angmar. The Elf thought he remembered the formula from the man Aragorn hired but it was a revolting process.

He got quite a throng between family, militia friends of family and some of Fieldar's business associates. Wine and ale were available. Of the perfunctory royal invitations, Princess Millicend came with her daughter Anthrala and her husband Nendalron accompanied a discreet big fellow who smiled and watched. Nag Kath met them both during the Steward's visit. They seemed a nice young couple and knew a few people there.

If any of the women conspired to match the bachelor Elf with themselves or other eligible ladies, no one told him. A lot of lordly romances had been finagled at this very party over the years. As always, he sat on the porch bench and looked at Osgiliath the way he had with Tal. For a moment he imagined Phylless making sure everyone had what they needed.

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Year 124 started wet, not enough to flood Osgiliath but it was said the coast got a lot of rain. When he could he rode both horses. Lorandis' fourteen year-old son Simliar got the job of keeping them fit. Before long, Eliesse would need a maternity stable. Nag Kath found a farm just north of the leech-fields to care for her and a foal due in July or August. Simliar would ride Orlon there and ride her so both stayed in trim. When she got too heavy, he would just bring carrots to remind her of home.

Spring was nice. He painted and went to Osgiliath for more of the little bronzes. Any statue in the White City was still someone royal. Over there were nymphs and bears and otters. He got one that was supposed to be a gnome because it reminded him of Elf-keeper Fencïl.

In May there was bad news that Lord Kolland, husband to the Princess Inariel had died of a bog fever he caught hunting near his estate in central Belfalas. The man made it home and seemed to be rallying until fading away. He was only 43 of Princely Dunedain stock, but fevers do not discriminate. The couple lived at the estate most of the time but occasionally went to Dol Amroth or to the horse farm in Lossarnach. Nag Kath didn't know the funeral plans or what the Princess would do but it did hasten Barahir and Talienne's belated visit with Uncle Nag tagging along. Not that it entered into their plans but they would arrive just before the Catanard season that meant so much long ago.

This was a formal state visit. After the retinue disembarked with guards and fanfare, the couple and daughter Ivriniel and her husband were whisked off to the palace. Nag Kath slipped quietly to Cal's house carrying his own bag. His house was right next door but Cal had the key so they had a long talk with tea.

Life was good here. Grenda came and went as she had been doing. She was not unhappy. Raniece and Callistra's families visited often. They had done what they could. Derissa's daughter Lenvisar was said to be getting serious about a young Marine coming up through traditional training. Uncle Nag promised not to be too much of a nuisance. Cal smiled and said, "Oh, we got four more tickets directly behind ours. Old Thomfors stopped coming years ago. He had a spat with his son-in-law and wouldn't you know; he let Menalgir take the subscription. Feathers were ruffled, let me assure you."

Nag Kath matched him grin for grin, something they had done for almost a hundred years, "I hope they are all comedies."

"No such luck. To be a Catanaräe you have to take the rough with the smooth. I think the tragedies this year are the 'The Price' and 'Too Long Without'. They aren't especially long. Your wizard opera is fourth."

That was when he let Mina go. He would have loved to be in love all this time. Her first granddaughter was born in May. As the comic wizard learned, one can never see the future, but as things played, she would have lost him without hope in the caves of Angmar. It was hard to imagine straggling back after twenty years and starting fresh. Two Elves might have managed.

"Alas, I left Radagast's staff tip in Minas Tirith or else we could have livened-up the performance!"

Cal shook his head and had more tea.

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With Kolland's memorial, Nag Kath did not expect to see the Princely couple until Field's memorial. It was scheduled ten days after their arrival to give the Princely couple time to attend business of the fief. Talienne did visit Raniece and her mother without the Prince the day after they arrived. The woman recognized her, but thought it was thirty years ago. They talked about then.

There was a formal event in the citadel a week later. Cal and Nag Kath were invited as Lords of Galador along with Raniece and Borond as sister to the visiting nobles. Cal needed a man-cart but he was dressed in his best; tall and straight. The guests averaged older than Nag Kath remembered. There were the same old buffers but now their sons were bald too. Cal enjoyed seeing folk who did not get around as far as the other side of Dol Amroth. Unusually, quite a few people remembered Nag Kath's name from the healing a couple years back. While Cal was talking with a man only slightly younger about their days in government, Talienne walked over to her uncle and asked, "Where are all the young people?"

"I was wondering that myself. Your family could have been pressed into service. They have youngsters by the basket."

Prince Armandor and his wife strolled by and Talienne said, "My Lord and Lady, may I present my uncle Nag Kath?"

All bowed and the man said, "Glad you could come." Wife Antolia said the exact same phrase. They had probably used it all night.

Nag Kath said, "Thank you for inviting me, Your Highnesses."

Both smiled and walked where they had been going.

The Elf said, "Have you seen your grand-da"

Talienne was looking across the room and said, "Not tonight, but I saw him at mother's. Did he tell you about the Catanard?"

"Vaguely."

"Then we will see you there too. I like that you are close to Cal."

"He is my oldest friend, going on a hundred years. You never met my wife Phylless. We lived here about half the time for forty years and were very close with Caladrion and Eniecia. Sometimes we can think something without needing to say it."

She said softly, "I have heard all the stories, at least, all the ones ever told. Take care of him for me. I have to rescue my husband or the man from Lebennin will talk his ear off." She kissed his cheek, "See you at the show."

Queen Nepthat was off. Nag Kath wandered over to get a glass of wine and saw a gentleman he knew who brought wagons of food to the healing warehouse two years before. He walked up and said, "Mr. Uphaunt, how good it is to see you!"

"And you, Lord Kath. I am glad this is not about high-water upstream."

The changeling sighed, "I have had quite enough of that, thank you. Forgive my lack of protocol. Are you some sort of Lord?"

Uphaunt smiled, "Not even close, but my wife is a Lady of Amroth on her mother's side so they let me in for the wine."

"I can't keep track."

The fellow seemed pleased, "You have to live it night and day. Just a moment." Uphaunt turned slightly and said to a man walking by, "Your pardon, Lord Kolland. My deepest condolences. This is my friend Lord Kath."

The Lord stopped for a moment seeming to recognize the name but bowed and kept going. Uphaunt said, "I didn't say how we met because his son died of a fever this spring. Nice fellow. Bloody poxes! Well, I should attend my lady wife. I will find her by the finger-cakes."

Nag Kath looked over to the old soldiers and saw Cal was wearing down. He collected his friend and took him outside to whistle-up a man-cart. The Elf walked alongside and settled Cal inside his home before going next door to drink cold tea and watch the crescent moon.

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Over the summer he went to two shows. Barahir and Talienne left after a month and Uncle Nag stayed behind. They were to write as soon as they heard about Eliesse's foal. He would have three horses. Towards the end of the summer, Cal caught a bad cold that settled in his lungs. Most people his age would have died but having a wizard on site got him through. The Elf's healing got progressively stronger. He could draw more illness and dissipate it faster than before. Nag Kath never forgot old Mrs. Skilleth saying it was nothing to his kind. Recuperation might be nothing, but having saved a life always mattered.

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Nag Kath spent the rest of the year in Dol Amroth and sailed to Minas Tirith in January. He wanted to be near family so he divided time between the sea, the White City and Emyn Arnen. The foal was a filly that would stay with her mother until next fall at least. The farmer who kept mother and daughter could start her on halter-breaking when she was ready. Orlon was getting his exercise from town. Nephew Simlier loved riding but was two generations from owning a horse in the family.

The Elf busied himself with horses, seeing friends, painting and paying the sculptor in Osgiliath to show him how to cast bronzes. He had seen bells made but not something graceful. Talienne's brood was doing well with young Lord Tyaldran taking on more duties. Barahir believed in not letting young people be idle as their parents aged. The man was thirty-three and a better rider than his da. Middle-earth still needed good soldiers.

In the autumn Nag Kath got his old job back of teaching children the bow with blunted arrows while their fathers trained with their weapons. Slow-swords was popular again. One fifth-level trainee fancied himself a swordsman without peer. He found out otherwise. On the last day of 125 he had another Syndolan party with most of the same people and the same results. Millicend came again with her family. She really enjoyed getting out of the seventh and spoke with many of the guests like an old friend. That was his only encounter with royalty that year.

Year 126 of the Fourth age started with Nag Kath returning to Dol Amroth. The family would have to share him. Cal was getting older very slowly and still enjoyed their walks at the wharf. His daughter Callistra, with less Dunedain blood, was in her eighties and seemed as elderly.

Fieldar's widow Grenda was very frail. Her mind was disordered and her blood flowed poorly. She would not let the blonde stranger examine her and no one saw the need to force the issue. Just before the opera season, she seemed to become very lucid and remember things as they were. The next day, she was gone. Folk had said their goodbyes for three years. Talienne did not plan to come down. Now that Raniece wasn't a nurse, she could visit Emyn Arnen with Borond and take a long rest. The Libron great grandchildren were old enough to enjoy the curious Uncle Nag's stories and ask questions about dragons. Heirs of Dale knew their dragons.

Nag Kath caught three of the Catanards that season. He enjoyed the company afterwards as well. Twice, a very attractive woman was three rows behind them and he could feel her eyes on his back. She had wine at the Lion the second time. It was up to him. He smiled and walked next to Cal's man-cart going home.

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Towards winter, he was back again up the river. That was the best time to travel. Simlien had taken good care of the horses. With his parents' permission, Nag Kath gave him the filly the lad named Windborne. It was the best day of his life. By the time he was old enough to train as a lancer, she would be ready.

He got home too late to plan a Syndolan party. As it happened, Delandreth and her husband had one, a tradition they would carry-on for all their long marriage. Hastor was a man of Rohan, so, basically a red-headed Northman. His father was a rider of the Mark and moved here when a pox killed half of their horses. The man's wife had a cousin in the White City who offered him work so they brought their young children and made a new life. Hastor apprenticed making fine saddles and eventually opened his own shop on the second. Nag Kath had only met him once but after the second introduction, they talked half the night about all things Rohan with a healthy dollop of Dale for good measure. Eliesse needed a better saddle so the deal was struck for when she returned from the farm. Everyone had a good time and the Elf made a note to get them some Hobbits next year.

The winter was nothing special. The Anduin would not flood in spring. It was still cold so Nag Kath unearthed his two strange language papers and went to the archives to try his luck again. He made a little headway. A scholar named Vorondies, forty years before the war, wrote a series of laborious papers on the Black Speech that was filed in the wrong category. His thesis was that the Black Speech was just one more permutation of Elvish and that Sauron had adapted it for the thick heads of his servants.

There were no written examples. Nag Kath's Uruk-hai used a more complex tongue than the Mordor orcs but neither could read. Perhaps this Vorondies had access to a captured orc. It would have been utter nonsense, but half of the letters he used were the same as the Yvsuldor sheets found in Nûrad. Since orc messengers were no help in a land of bright sun, those men would have had to write things down in the only language they knew.

The next day, Nag Kath brought what he copied from the Red Book where Frodo described the writing in the ring. It was incomplete. The Hobbit could not speak or read it but he remembered the form, an elegant inscription for an ugly tongue. It had the same letter shapes but was art more than writing. The Elf wrote out a simple sentence in Quenya and compared the black sounds. It was gibberish too. There might be something there and he would keep trying. It made sense that Sauron would adapt an existing language. He arrived relatively late in the dark lord business and was notoriously cheap. Melkor had the imagination to make a wholly new tongue, but not his handman. The Elf still copied the written forms from the old scholar, getting that much closer to what it meant. He made no progress on the troll cache.

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A letter from Raniece in July said Cal was having trouble with his wind again. There was nothing keeping him here so he loaded Eniesse and her brand new saddle on a ferry and made for Dol Amroth. With not much headwind, he was there in eighteen days. Cal was sitting on the porch with Callistra drinking tea and fit as a fiddle. Yes, he had a cough two months ago but some of good ol' Nag's herbs put him right!

Nag Kath couldn't be cross that the man he came to save or mourn willingly drank the Elf's rank cough tea. "Well, good for you! I don't suppose there is any music?"

"Too late for Catanard. One of the lead dancers in the Kohru left her husband and moved back to Pelargir. They are auditioning new girls now but the season is a shambles."

Nag Kath asked, "Are there any new babies?"

Granna Callistra said, "Nope. The ones on the ground are getting sassy. You don't want any part of minding them."

"Hmmm."

Ever helpful, Cal offered, "See here, say hello to everyone and go catch some fish. Word from the south coast is that the yellow Odar are in the rocks off Nargond and Tyliand, doesn't happen often so close to shore. The way you ride, you'll be there in three days. Come back relaxed and ready for a three-act tragedy!"

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~o~

Nag Kath took Cal up on his suggestion. After visits, dinners and yarns, he retrieved his tackle for deep water fishing and eased Eliesse down the coast towards Ráma. It was a graded road with an inn just before the bridge over a river from Rosuldrië.

Inns along the route dealt with the higher-end of tourists from Dol Amroth. They were expensive and worth it. He was underdressed for the second inn he made in South Ráma on a larger river near an old fortress dating before the current line of Princes. In the land of fish, dinner was roast lamb. The wine was good from vineyards further up the same river.

From here, Nag Kath took his time. In Dol Amroth there were few places to get near the sea along the rocks. Sheer cliffs descended into the surf with the barest of footpaths hugging the slope. Here were the same sort of rocks into the water but they were only ten or fifteen feet down. Rather than be served more lamb, the Elf made camp along the road and ate one of the tillars he caught just off the shore. That gave him plenty of time to make the inn Cal recommended just after lunch.

~o~

Nargond is the largest town and capital of the county of Nargond. It is also the name of the river coming from the passes in the county of Dudhrandir. Cal's inn was the Dor-en-Ernil, an old, Princely name from when that line was established. They weren't serving lamb. Nag Kath took a nice room overlooking the sea and went out to stretch his legs before eating whatever wasn't lamb.

The town itself followed the river back several miles. The coastal counties had rocky soil near the sea but a mile or two on either side of the Nargond was fertile loam and highly prized. Farmers had harvested the orchards and were starting on the wheat. Like a lot of country roads, a woman well up in years was sitting under a parasol with several baskets of fresh-picked fruit and vegetables. The Elf wandered over to hear, "Good timing, young man. These peaches are just off the tree at a groat each."

He could have them three to a groat but Nag Kath hated haggling. "Splendid. I'll take two of them" and gave her a fiver, waving his hand when she made change.

The woman gave him a long second look as she put the fruit in a little basket, "Wait a minute, I know you! You cured my fever a few years back."

The Elf replied, "Good. I am glad you are well. Do you live here?"

"My whole life. Was in Amroth to see my sister. Never going back. Pestilential places; cities!" Nag Kath couldn't agree more and ate one of the peaches on the way back to the inn.

~o~

He hadn't even gotten to the pit before he heard an altercation. Two men were accosting another off a side road. Elf ears being what they are, he heard quite a bit of it before he could see them. It started with; "We told you to pay by today or we take the mule. You have had long enough with grace to spare."

The owner of the mule, an older fellow much worn by life's unfairness, resisted, "I haven't got it. Beetles ate the squash and I had none to sell."

The other of the two was stern, "Don't matter to us. We loaned you those coppers and you agreed to pay it back with modest interest. When we called last month, you said the same thing. That mule is ours now."

"Can you not give me another month before the grain is in?"

The first man said, "No. A deal is a deal and we have been more than reasonable."

Nag Kath walked over. A tall, well-dressed man, he got noticed. He was a Lord of Galador twice, for what that was worth. "What is the trouble here?"

One of the two lenders said, "This toad promised to pay us back money he borrowed to plant his crops. Now that it is harvest time, he does not pay."

The old man with the mule pleaded, "It is not my fault. The bugs ate my garden."

The second lender cried, "We did not lend the money to the bugs! Not that this is any of your business, mister, but we are here to claim this beast as payment."

The hard-used man wailed, "He is worth much more than your miserable two silvers, a fine worker in his prime!"

The first man said practically, "Then sell him for more and give us the two silvers and ten groats for the use of our hard-earned money."

As misery piled on misery, the poor farmer bemoaned, "Then how will I bring in my crop?"

The second man, who looked a lot like the first, said firmly, "Again, you find ways not to pay. Hand me the mule now and be glad we don't take more."

The busybody butted-in again, "Wait here, there must be some resolution. You, sir, what is this mule worth?"

The farmer said piteously, "Every groat of four silvers."

The second fellow claimed, "Nonsense. Two at most."

"Three, and I will starve in the bargain!"

Nag Kath said, "I will handle this. You, sir, I will buy this mule for three silvers." He dropped three dented kings in the farmer's palm and took the animal's halter lead. Then he said, "Now, you pay these fellows two of those."

Try as he may, the farmer could not think of a way to back out. He dropped two coins into an outstretched palm. Nag Kath continued, recalling his exemplary wisdom in building the bridge, "Now, you two be on your way and think twice to whom you lend next time."

Two silvers was a lot better than they thought they would see so they abandoned their interest payments and were down the road towards the mountains. Nag Kath concluded, "Now sir, you give me the remaining silver for this mule" intending to give him the silver back after the man's good faith.

The farmer grew a beaming smile and chortled, "I can buy a lot more ale with this dented king than I can with him. Congratulations, you just bought yourself a three silver mule!" Then he trotted in the same direction as the lenders.

It served him right for being the knight-errant with arguing yokels. He gave the mule the second peach and declared, "From now on, your name is A'mash."

This concludes the second book of Nag Kath