Chapter 4
From the Ground Up
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At seven the next morning, an indecent hour by municipal standards, Nag Kath visited Architect Finenbrad. He was in early with hot tea ready and glad to see the fellow he caused so much trouble at the bridge. The Elf opened by saying, "Yes indeed, I am in deep. The King has decided to pursue the aqueduct."
Finenbrad slurped the too hot tea and smiled without guilt. "That is a good project. How can I help?"
Nag Kath said, "Four surveyors. I know the local lads would rather sleep in their own beds. Can men be trained for distance work in a reasonable time?"
"I don't see why not. They won't all be greenbottoms."
In a gray area of civic finance, Nag Kath broached, "Would you consider finding and training such fellows? This would be a private contract with the approval of people we know and love."
"Certainly. I retire in a month so I am available then – sooner if this is official. What did you have in mind?"
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Now it was time to see old friends. Nag Kath walked down to the second level and knocked on the door of the Quastille School. To his surprise, a taller, balder Timalen opened the door. He did not recognize Nag Kath until the Elf said, "I thought you would have graduated by now."
With that Tim gave him a bear hug and said, "I do not believe my eyes! Come in, come in." Calling down to the kitchen, "Marie, come out and meet Nag Kath." Tim told him to sit in one of the chairs and flopped in another. A short, dark-haired woman appeared wearing an apron and Tim repeated, "Marie, this is Nag Kath. You remember me telling you about him."
Marie smiled and assumed, "Would it be fair to say he has not offered you tea?"
"Fair and typical, I should think. Cool if you have it." She walked over to a jug in the same place it had always been. Turning to Tim he asked, "Yours was not the face I was expecting. How are you here?"
Tim took his mug of tea and said, "Quastille died about eight years after you left. I was making my way as a sculptor and renting the bottom level. Sylveth decided to sell and wouldn't you know? The fellow who was going to buy it married her. Looks just like her! Instead she sold it to me and I reopened the school. I've got three students downstairs beetling away right now."
Nag Kath thanked Marie for his tea before saying, "I hope she is doing well."
"She is. She is!" Tim took one of dozens of scrap sketches lying around and wrote her address. Handing it to Nag Kath he said, "Please go visit her. I am sure she would like to see you. Her married name is Multö."
Marie sat in the third chair and listened to almost an hour of catching-up. Nag Kath talked about the wizards and the Huntsman and life in Dale. After a decent interval Tim asked, "Forgive me, old friend, but wasn't there some stickiness when you left?"
The Elf thought for a moment and said, "Less than I thought. I was trying to sneak through Ithilien when the King himself rode up. He welcomed me back and said I should present myself at the palace. You could have knocked me over with a feather! Now he wants me to work for him."
Marie had heard the stories about this fellow but wasn't expecting someone visiting on royal command who hobnobbed with wizards and ten-foot specters. Nag Kath begged pardon to make a couple more visits but they would all go out for a fine dinner soon. As he was leaving Tim mentioned, "Oh, it seems you are almost famous. One of your sketches sold for half a nipper last month – picture of a woman having dinner."
Nag Kath kept his face straight but that hurt.
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His next stop took a little more nerve. He dawdled checking the number and the blue building twice before knocking. The door swung wide open revealing a boy of about fifteen with a riot of curly black hair.
The Elf said, "Hello, I am Nag Kath and I am looking for Talereth. I was told she lives here."
The lad gave him a long look and grumbled, "Wait here" before shutting the door.
Less than a minute later, the door swung wide again and Tal put her fingers over her open mouth the way she did when surprised. "Oh my goodness! I … I … come in! Make yourself at home." Pointing to a couch in the main room of a very nice home, "Ecthialladrin, this is Nag Kath!"
"I know mother. He told me."
Nag Kath thought with a name like that most young men would be surly. 'Orc Six' was no grand sobriquet, but at least it was over quickly. His mother was not to be sassed, "Well then you had better go see what Mrs. Tippi has for our guest, hmmm?"
Ecthialladrin retreated down a hall while his ma arranged her dress. Nag Kath said, "I got your address from Mr. Tallazh. He is well."
"He is a dear man. He opened doors for us when we arrived. You have the nicest friends, Nag Kath." That was followed by her same intoxicating smile. The sentence was barely out when a maid arrived with a tray of finger-foods.
Nag Kath had no idea how a woman with Tal's appetite kept her figure after children. She was largely unchanged with traces of gray in her dark red hair. She asked, "When did you find you weren't banished?"
"A couple weeks ago. I was traveling south in Ithilien and the King himself told me to come visit. I wasn't about to say no so here I am. I confess; of all the people I wanted to see, this was the visit that worried me most. Have you been well, Tal?"
She became very still before replying, "Yes. I married a wonderful man and have two lovely children. You met Ecc. My firstborn is a daughter. She is learning languages and I'll have you know, she is an artist." Nag Kath raised his eyebrow. Again, she put her fingers over her mouth before saying, "Too young for you, dear Nag. Now, what of your adventures! I have held court with the last charge of the Revanthars so many times no one wants to hear it again."
He told her about the Wild Huntsman and the Elves. "I moved to Dale and met a lovely woman. We married and were very happy until she died last year. Eniece reminded me a bit of you." He became more serious, "That was when I decided to take Gandalf's advice to widen my horizons."
She said, "I am sorry Nag Kath. "Did Amiedes tell you Mrs. Skilleth died? A bit too fond of the barley spirits, she was. But feisty to the end! And before you ask; my healing ability did not amount to much. Swaddling rashes are about the limit of my skill." Looking at the sun level on the wall, "Ectilliad should be home any moment. I would love for you to meet him."
"I will, but I have to prepare for a trip to the seventh and an errand in the east. When I am back, we will have time to relive the Revanthars over dinner."
She kissed his cheek.
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Nag Kath supposed he was now a citizen of two countries. Dale would always be special and he planned to return. Free and clear in Gondor would make that easier. And now he had something important to do. It would test many of the things he learned.
As a base of operation Nag Kath would buy homes in both Minas Tirith and Osgiliath that could double as his offices. He needed another Brenen, maybe two! To start he opened an account for twenty of his cash Florin at the Royal Bank and executed a transfer of three of the four hundred Florin from Dale. It would take months to verify but he couldn't spend it there either.
Then he had estate agent Finad Duluthar scour the fourth level south of the prow for just the right place. He wanted a large, two or three story home where the ground floor could serve as headquarters and he would live above it. That was the widest and flattest section of that tier with enough space between buildings for some sun. From the fourth up, most buildings against the inside had many stories but bare rock for the northern walls. He was in no hurry. The place could need repair as long as it was sound with a stable and water close by.
A few days later the estate agent found the right place on the fourth level not far from the switchback. This one was against the inside but, unusually, it had nothing on the left side rather than sharing common walls like most of the rock-hard city. One might have thought the gap was Nazgûl damage but it was just a rock from up the hill that flattened a thirty-foot stretch of apartments. It set him back nine Florin. The home was bigger version of his first place in Dale with an open first floor – more for storage than living with only two windows. The second floor was the main room with another, outside entrance. The sleeping quarters were on the third with balconies on the open sides. A block stable was a hundred paces further west on the third-level. He sketched out what he wanted in the way of furniture and found firms that managed such things.
Each of the three stories had its own stone stove plus a smaller one on the second for cooking. Before the builders and decorators arrived, Nag Kath took the new-fangled ash screen out from under the stove on the first floor. In the space he slipped the mithril hair circlet and some cash before grouting rocks on the front of the slide to match the ones on the stove. Back in place, it would look like an older-style stove that one had to shovel the ashes out by hand.
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It was time to visit Osgiliath again. Gili was a sprawling graveyard of towers, some still standing, where no one lived above the second floor. He stayed in the same inn and visited the city works building, asking for the water manager. A young fellow came out and said Mr. Sepulvath was quite busy and would he like to make an appointment? Nag Kath replied, "This is a matter for Prince Faramir." The man disappeared into a warren of corridors and came back quickly to usher him through.
Mr. Sepulvath was a round, florid man with strands of jet black hair placed from one ear to the other as if they had been raked. Like other administrators Nag Kath knew, he had a key ring on a fine chain across his vest. The man rose to no great height and shook hands as his assistant closed the door.
Reseated, he asked, "How can I be of assistance, sir?"
Nag Kath answered, "Thank you for seeing me on short notice." He pulled rank to get in but he would need this man's help beginning today and wanted to be on very good terms. "My name is Nag Kath and I am doing preliminary work to see if the headwaters of the Nuessan can be brought here to replace your current supply. It seems to have lost its Mordor taint. Please understand this is in early discussions and must remain confidential."
Sepulvath nodded as Nag Kath continued, "I am seeking ways to get it here but then there is what to do with it."
The water manager could not contain his enthusiasm, "Mr. Kath! You are a blessed soul! How can my humble office help?"
This was going well, "Mr. Sepulvath, do you have a map of the current city supply?"
He did indeed and went to a large rack like Annas' cubbies but much deeper to withdraw a large rolled sheet showing the pipes in the city with dozens of erasures and additions. They studied it for a few minutes before Nag Kath asked, "If you could control the flow, where would you put the distribution tanks?"
Short, fat fingers pointed at four points east of the river. The western bank was a separate city and was supplied, somewhat weakly, from the Mindolluin Stream above Minas Tirith since ancient times. If there was enough, new water could be piped across the bridge.
It was time to spend some money. Nag Kath took a Florin from his pocket saying, "This is an official expense. I would like you to hire someone to work only on this project or do your work for the time you spend. This will take years, but I believe it will happen and when it does, there will be thirsts to slake. There is more where that came from."
He left the big rock out of the conversation. No reason to get the land speculators excited just yet. Before he left, Nag Kath asked the beaming water manager to recommend an estate agent for his own residence in the city. He was assured Mr. Portrous was the man to see. The woman at the property office said he was out with a client but would return after lunch. Nag Kath ate his own lunch and returned to explain he wanted a sprawling home and outbuildings with its own stable. Riders would be coming and going all the time.
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That night Nag Kath engaged in one of his best talents; acting the earnest lad wondering aloud about things drinkers could not but help but answer. There was a tavern about a quarter mile from the big rock. He tied Regaldin to the post and went inside. The stew was inedible but the loaf was fresh and the ale fair.
"Tell me, good sir, that large hill just past, it must be made of stout rock."
The good sir was probably in his forties and had the broken nose veins of a man who knew his ale. "Aye, it is a piece rendered off the mountain long ago, must be two hundred feet long."
The young man observed, "And now sheep graze at the base."
"And goats! They climb up and eat the bushes. The ground around is too rocky to till."
In a voice that suggest only the most passing interest Nag Kath offered, "Not much return for the farmer then."
"That is old Enoch Farantie's land. He has plenty more."
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The next morning, a young fellow knocked on the door of the Farantie home a half mile north of the rock. The farmer's large dogs might have taken a piece out of a mannish visitor but they only circled and sniffed as the lad waited on the porch. An attractive woman in her thirties opened the door and looked at the tall, pale fellow and then at the dogs who had not made a sound. The visitor said, "Good morning ma'am. I am an artist and wanted to know if I could climb the large stone. I think a picture of Osgiliath from there would bring a few coppers."
Since he was still alive, he may as well come in. She showed Nag Kath to the main room where sat an elderly man in a comfortable chair. There was some art on his walls. The woman walked over to him and spoke in his ear. The gentleman noticed the vague shape in his hall. "What can I do for you, young man?"
"Good morning, Mr. Farantie. I came to ask permission to paint pictures on top of your rock." Nag Kath had to repeat that after the man raised a hearing trumpet to his ear.
Farantie looked to what might be his grand-daughter and said, "No, I don't mind." Then he gestured for the woman to come close and asked her a question before looking back to Nag Kath and saying, "You didn't have any trouble with those hounds?"
That earned him a grin, "Nay, Mr. Farantie. Dogs like me."
"Very well. You might see my sons or laborers out there too. Just tell them you spoke to me. Come back and let us see one of your pictures."
No one bothered him as he climbed the rock except two goats trying to pick his pockets. When they tried to steal the paper from the easel, a wargish snarl sent them running for their lives. One sketch was back towards the mountains. Two others were of Osgiliath, one for the Faranties. Then he set his bubble level on the easel and found the point to the east that corresponded with his height. That was marked on the first sketch. Raising the front of the level with a scrap of leather he made another mark.
As he climbed in the saddle he thought the kindly Farantie family would get a fine sketch for the effort and a generous settlement for their rock.
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Nag Kath had asked the King to think of an excuse for a diplomatic reception. That wasn't necessary. A conference of Free Peoples was scheduled in two weeks and Nag Kath was invited. The renowned skills of many folk would be a benefit in bringing clean water to the river and this would be a chance to sound them out on generalities. Again, tailors had to be dissuaded from "Elvish Elements" but he needed court clothes for his new job.
Nag Kath walked into the reception room after most of the guests had arrived. There were ambassadors, wives, embassy staff and a number of the King's men, about seventy, all tallied. He was not expecting to know any but that changed quickly.
"Lord Kath!"
From across the room he saw Colonel Rosscranith. It had been four years since they laid eyes on each other. Nag Kath walked to him and shook his hand in the Dalish fashion. It is hard to squeeze a Northman into stately clothes but the Colonel cut a fine figure. The beauty here was that Rosscranith would introduce him fondly as a hale-fellow from Dale which avoided prevarications up-front. Rosscranith was the new ambassador of Bard's court and liked Minas Tirith. Nag Kath said he might be here for a while and they must have some Dorwinion wine together. And if the Ambassador had mail service, he would love to send his royal step-daughter a letter. It is always nice to hit the red stripe on the first shot!
Rosscranith's wife Journa joined them a minute later. Nag Kath had met her several times before. Courtly dressmakers had a harder time with her Ladyship. Tall, broad-shouldered Northwomen always look like they are on the verge of splitting fine garments down the back. She was always pleasant and seemed to like the posting here as well.
The Colonel caught the arm of Ambassador and Mrs. Fouringalas of Belfalas. That was technically part of the kingdom but the fiefs maintained diplomatic missions as if they were separate countries. Regions with no such status also had folk here to represent their constituents. The ambassador, as one would expect of a professional diplomat, was cordial and glad to meet Captain Kath. She looked at him strangely. He was not sure if he reminded her of someone or her vision was weak. His hair was over his ears for the occasion.
They were on the verge of another introduction when the herald announced the royal couple. Everyone in the room turned towards the entrance and bowed deeply. As they usually did, the King and Queen bowed as well. Lord Aragorn said, "Friends, thank you for coming tonight. It is always a pleasure to see you. Please be merry and make new friends."
This would have nothing to do with the aqueduct but Nag Kath excused himself and approached two Hobbit couples in their fine brocade vests and woolly feet. They were Mr. and Mrs. Rembyl Higgenboth and Ambassador and Mrs. Lemuel Took. The Elf told them of his friends in Dale and knew some of them had family in the Shire. If the press of official duties wasn't overwhelming, perhaps they could enjoy a fine meal at leisure.
That is an offer few Hobbits refuse. Mr. Higgenboth gave him a card.
When Nag Kath turned, the King and Queen were approaching. He bowed and waited. Arwen looked just as she had and said, "Thank you for coming, Mr. Kath. It has been quite some time."
"Indeed, My Lady. Thank you for your gracious welcome." That could apply to tonight or generally.
"The King has told me of your ambitions. I think those worthy and wish you the best of success. There is much to consider, I am sure."
"There is, My Lady. Thankfully, I made pictures of your peoples' building history in Rivendell. I confess; most were in Quenya which I do not speak."
Arwen asked, "Think you to include such artifacts? That is most flattering, Mr. Kath."
"I hope to, My Lady. My crude drawings are practical but lack grace. Your folk make beautiful things with less material so that may help as well."
"Then I am glad you have that tool." She had accepted Gandalf's explanation of Nag Kath's origins years before. That this creature had been admitted to Rivendell supported the contention.
He said with a smile, "Logass was a great help."
She wracked her memory before saying almost to herself, "Of course. They would be there now."
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King Elessar spoke, as arranged, "Let us meet the Dwarvish Ambassador."
He followed the royals to a pair of Dwarf couples who bowed deeply. The King said, "Thank you for coming, my friends. Ambassador Tulinn, may I introduce Nag Kath who is recently visiting from Dale? Please enjoy yourselves."
That was all the King needed to say. For half an hour, Nag Kath and the four Dwarves regaled each other with stories of the north. Women of Durin's Folk have no trouble airing their views. And this was a good fellow of an Elf, not snotty at all! They had come from Erebor after visiting Rohan two years ago and knew a few of the folk Nag Kath knew. He showed them the knife made by Master Golord. There was no reason to discuss building now. Ale would be had soon with his new friends.
It came as no surprise that other than the Queen, there were no Elves. The Silvans in the north were not really a country. It was said Legolas of the Woodland realm was abroad, but he came and went as he liked. Nag Kath considered the party a huge success but there was one more pleasant surprise. He said to a passing couple, "Mr. Maedos. How good to see you again."
Third son Davet was escorting his wife to the finger-foods. He stopped and cudgeled his brain for the memory. The Elf helped, "I am Nag Kath. I had the pleasure of drawing your honored father the Shurat some years ago."
The younger Maedos opened his mouth in an "O" before saying, "Oh yes, in the west. He is still well and hardy. I thought you might have aged like the rest of us."
"Not yet."
Mrs. Maedos did not look the part of a diplomatic wife. She was small, dark and Dunnish, an Orthanc miner's wife in finery. Smiling looked like it took a great effort and Davet prompted the conversation, "Doussha, this is Mr. Kath who made the picture of father in the gallery."
She mumbled, "How nice to meet you."
Davet added with a fine grin, "I heard about the mayor's boy before we left long years ago. They will remember you better there than I did this evening."
"No casualties, I hope."
Mr. Maedos shook his head, "A few bumps and bruises."
Nag Kath said, "I may be much in the White City. When I am better established, perhaps we will meet again to hear of your lands."
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Seeing Mr. Tallazh made him think of the College of Scholars. If anyone could find out how these massive buildings were created, it was them.
In his studies he found how many things were assembled but almost nothing about the sweat needed. There would have to be a market-town of workers, families, animals all needing to be fed and sheltered. Gondor did not have legions of orcs or slaves who would work until they dropped.
The word was out that the tall blonde man was a friend of King Elessar so the clerk of the archives was helpful. After a few questions he was directed to Scholar Heralda, a tall, thin man in his forties with the red cap of tenure and thick spectacles.
"Thank you for seeing me, Scholar Heralda. I am Nag Kath and I was told you might be able to help me with questions about the ancients."
In a voice that sounded on the verge of coughing, Heralda replied, "Perhaps, my work has been on Numenorean and early Gondoran society."
"I seek information on large building projects. So far I have come across a great deal about techniques and which kings ordered the work but precious little on the people who labored, how many, where they lived and what they ate. In your research have you found those references?"
Again; the near cough, "As you said; precious little. I do not think the great men of the day thought it noteworthy."
Nag Kath explained that he was in Orthanc when the White Council archives were disbursed. "Many of them were lists or Purse records that bored the readers to tears. Perhaps the record of ordering five hundred pairs of boots matches the year a sewer was dug. Forgive me, I am clutching at straws."
Scholar Heralda asked, "This is the water project isn't it?" Without waiting for the answer he continued, "After the war my father caught a river-palsy. I will do what I can for you."
"Thank you. I am interested in anything on their building techniques. And forgive my tawdry question, but does your sponsor allow individual compensation? This is not intended to be a voluntary project."
With what could arguably be called a smile, Heralda answered, "I am sure the Gerandur Endowment will appreciate any help easing their burdens."
Nag Kath's card and a nipper found themselves sliding across the table.
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No matter how these investigations played, at the source they would have to move a lot of rock. All of the streams in those mountains eventually made a sharp turn south into the Neussan. They needed to convince one otherwise. In the Fourth Age, that meant Dwarves. Nag Kath presented himself at the Embassy of Master Tulinn. He was told the Ambassador was in a meeting but should be free shortly. Knowing what he did about Dwarvish scheduling, Nag Kath sat in the reception room and studied his notes. Tulinn's second-in-command came out about an hour later to shake hands with the towering boy and ask what he was drinking. Refusal would be an insult so he said whatever the Ambassador was having.
After they were seated and served, the Elf started with, "Thank you for seeing me Master Tulinn. I am working on a project to deliver water from the Morgul Vale to Osgiliath. It will take great knowledge and skill in working mountain stone and I thought first of Durin's Folk. The primary cascade would be along the lines of the Moria Stair Bridge. Would your people have an interest in such work?"
Tulinn lit a pipe of the best Shire leaf. As he shook the match out he said, "Considering who this is for, I have to be diplomatic. Our masons and cutters are occupied but there may be engineers in the great halls if Gondor can provide the men. You did not hear this from me, but the King's dear friend Gimli of the Glittering Caves is the one to ask."
"Forgive me, Master Tulinn, I know very little of these caves."
"There are caverns leading away from Helm's Deep in Rohan. It is more extensive than men knew. Thanks to our alliance in the war, Dwarves have been ceded a colony there with our folk from Erebor and wandering longbeards. It may eventually be as important as Erebor, perhaps even Khazad-Dûm in its day."
Tulinn took another puff and said more gravely, "Then there is the issue of you."
"You are well-informed, Ambassador. Both the Rohirrim and Durin's Folk seem to have taken my original condition in stride, though few know the details. This is important enough that I will defer to King Elessar's choice of emissary. If I am chosen, I will go with goodwill and without fear."
The bowl exhausted, Tulinn placed the pipe on the table and added, "Speak with your King. For what it is worth, I will have a letter of introduction delivered to you shortly."
"Nag Kath grinned and sipped his ale, "And now for the important question. How do you get Rohan red in the White City?"
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"Tulinn raised a good point, Nag Kath."
"I agree, Sire. I leave this entirely to you. Although, a letter from you to another member of your Fellowship worked well, even when I had scant words of my own."
King Elessar smiled and conceded, "Very well. Go with my blessing. I will write a note to go with the Ambassador's."
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Nag Kath waited three days until Tulinn's packet arrived and then took Regaldin at best speed up the Great West Road. It looked the same as the first time although he saw it much faster. There were now a few inns at stream crossings for oats and rest. He did stop at the hill where he spoke with the warags. On the afternoon of his seventh day out he rode to the gates of Edoras.
The way was shut. A guard called down, "What is your business?"
He shouted back, "I am here to visit my old friend and drink ale at the Falcon's Lair." That was good enough and a man below opened one of the two doors.
Edoras was still dreary. Nag Kath turned Regaldin down the high street until he reached what was the Falcon's Lair. It was still a tavern now operating under the name of The Rose and Hare. Nobody knew Dornlas. He retraced his steps up two blocks and tried in another bar. Several people knew him in here. One who had not punished the local ale too hard even knew where he lived.
The house was well kept with a small garden on the side. Good for Dornlas! It seemed to Nag Kath that he had been knocking on a lot of unexpected doors lately, this one a little less so. A lanky, bearded man opened and immediately recognized his friend. They shook hands in the manner of Rohirrim and Dornlas walked him into a pleasant main room saying, "I always knew you would come back. It is time for an ale!"
"You are right, my friend."
Dornlas walked to the kitchen corner and pulled two half pints from a house-cask. As he brought them over he asked, "When did you arrive, Nag Kath?"
"Just now. I am finally on my way to Helm's Deep, hoping it is not so dangerous these days."
"Probably not."
A pair of twin girls, Nag Kath guessed about fourteen, came from the back rooms and smiled timidly. Joining them was the face he drew so many years ago. Nag Kath stood, bowed and was about to thoroughly embarrass himself. Dornlas saw the crash coming, "Nag Kath, I would like you to meet my wife Annlie and my daughters Annulka and Torenne."
So; not Kateese, but not far from the tree. Annlie said, "Please, enjoy your ale." Then to the girls, "Be home before dinner. I need you to help with the fish." The twins bowed respectfully to both parents and delighted in visiting their friends, two doors up. Annlie walked to the guest and bowed.
Dornlas said, "Forgive me, wife. Nag Kath is the fellow who drew your sister. It is a short story with a happy ending."
The Elf managed, "I am pleased to meet you Annlie."
She said, "Please stay for dinner, if fish is fine."
"I love fish, thank you."
Nag Kath gave much the same version of his life he had in Minas Tirith. Dornlas and Annlie were fascinated. Having soldiered together, in a manner of speaking, Nag Kath spoke of the sword-work needed too. "And you, Dornlas? Life seems to be treating you well."
Dornlas held Annlie's hand in the chair next to his and said, "Yes, I have been fortunate. I came into a stake …" with a wink "… and bought a small shop. I sold that and bought a bigger one. Now I have a few and businesses in them. The girls are our only children and they are very fine indeed."
Nag Kath said, "No conversation of old times is complete without asking where others are now. First; Sergeant Matelars?"
"He just retired. His oldest is a corporal in the King's guard. Tall, tough fellow, perfect for the job."
"I think I remember him peeping around his mother's skirt."
Dornlas grinned, "He is over that now."
"Same King?
"Aye, and he's been a good 'un. He started late but he has a brood of kids now. The King has trouble with his back so he avoids long rides, but he is still hale and lordly."
"I should pay my respects. I don't remember him being over-fond of me but there are forms to observe."
Dornlas grinned, "It is so odd to hear your Dalish drawl. I keep expecting you to stop in mid-sentence thinking yourself done."
Nag Kath chuckled, "I am at the same stage of Sindarin. Now, tell me of Lord Altheras."
"Fraid your string ends there. He died five years ago and was buried at his home. The King had a large memorial here, biggest since Erkenbrands's, they say. Do you still have his sword?"
"I do. But it is in Dale along with most of my things."
Annlie asked, "You were much there. Do you miss it?"
"At times. Thankfully, I make friends as I travel. Now, I need a little advice; I am here to visit the Dwarves of the Glittering Caves. What can you tell me of them?"
Dornlas shook his head, "Never been there. Our people used the caves for storage and defense but nobody ever wanted to go in very far. The Dwarves are fair silly about them. It is said they go a mile through the mountain with jewels and silver. I do not know more than that. Dwarves are very closed-lipped about their holes in the ground."
Dinner was delicious. The girls were well-mannered and everyone retired shortly after dark. Nag Kath apologized for not knowing if he could stop on his way back.
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Regaldin got appreciative looks walking up the avenue to Great Hall of Meduseld. They know their horses in Rohan. Nag Kath tied him to the rail and climbed the stairs. Showing King Elessar's letter got him to the door where he told another guard who looked a lot like Matelars his name and business. The guard showed him inside and took the letter to the Chamberlain. There was no one to ask so Nag Kath sat on the bench.
Not long after, the Chamberlain came out himself and asked if the visitor would follow him into the hall. They walked back where King Éomer was sitting at a long table with good sun. Nag Kath bowed and waited.
Éomer called, "You're back! Come, sit here." He pointed across the table from him. An attendant brought hot tea. "So, what brings you this way again?"
"I need a word with Gimli of the Glittering Caves and I brought Your Lordship a letter from King Elessar."
"Then you haven't come to hunt our wargs?"
"Wrong season. Your Lady Sister asked me the same."
The King wrestled with a bread roll while saying, "That is a long ride to deliver a letter."
"Lord Aragorn and your brother-in-law are considering a water project that could benefit from Dwarvish craft. I am helping so I volunteered to come."
"Helm's Deep wasn't so good for your lot. Gimli will remember that well."
"That was for the better, My Lord."
King Éomer finished his bite and said, "Very well. You are welcome in my lands and I wish you success with the Dwarves."
"There is one service you could do me, King Éomer; I do not know if the Dwarves have their own entrance or if I go through the fortress."
"They have their own but you would never find it." The King looked to a steward standing by and the man brought paper and pencil. Éomer scribbled a note and said, "If you go through the castle, this will get you to the caves. The Dwarves will decide past that."