Chapter 10
Fruition
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Nag Kath commandeered a horse at his house and rode to Minas Tirith. Flor was radiant. Penula and Turnlie were just as he left them. It was too late in the day to visit the King so he took off his boots and let the females pamper him. Dinner was delicious. When they were curled on the couch, Flor said, "I am expecting."
The changeling wasn't sure what he was thinking before that but she had his attention now. He smiled and looked at her. She beamed. "I thought I might be just when you left but I am well along. If I count right; early July."
"Are you well, my dear?"
"I was ill the first two months but that is past now. It must be very tame compared to your adventures."
"Well, all is fine, but there was sorcery, intrigue, love, betrayal, all of the things that make good campfire stories. We saved the Prince's fief and put a few old ghosts where they belong. Shouldn't you be sleeping or knitting or something?"
She smiled sweetly, "I am fine, silly. And I am glad you are back."
He took her upstairs and held her as she slept. This was unexpected, but certainly welcome. Talereth did not conceive but later had children. Eniece was already a mother. Nag Kath never told Florice that he could not have children; just that he hadn't. She seemed so excited. Please, every Vala listening, let me be completely Elvish by now!
The help were sworn to silence until the master returned. Within days, everyone in the neighborhood knew. Friends from the fifth planned a ritual where women would bring a gift and drink tea with cakes; very Hobbit-like. He settled back into his role as part-time architect and spent the first time in years sketching and painting. Nag Kath had enough of sorcery for a while. The King was at his horse farm when the ferry passed but was back now and replied to the Elf's note to come up the following day.
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"You have been away long my friend. Tell me of your time."
Nag Kath said, "It was much like we reckoned, Sire. The local witch combined forces with one in Dol Amroth at the behest of a Lord looking to move up in the world. Lord Erchirion was saved, the villains killed and I am now a Knight of Galador. The healer I took with me stayed in high honor and your Kingship is praised. I brought this letter for you from Prince Imhrahil."
Aragorn looked at the seal but placed it on his side table. "You probably want to sleep for a week but I need to ask after the water."
"All seems well. This will be the year we connect the parts"
"And you, Nag Kath? How is your lovely wife?"
"Ah, she is with child. Her count is not exact but we are thinking near the Feast of Tellarian."
"May that be a blessed day."
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Flor was managing quite well. She would not ride but she walked the levels, only taking man-carts in poor weather. She and cook or Penula still shopped for the evening meal. Just when Nag Kath had reconciled himself to celibacy, Flor reminded him of all the ways they could enjoy themselves. She was a good 'un. After Eniece, he was glad he could love again. He returned home as much as he could. Flor was big but kept walking in the neighborhood. Modern ladies did not always adhere to the convention of long confinement without exercise. She liked fresh air.
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_~ / ~ / ~ / ~ / ~-_
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Spring of year six called for decisions. At best speed, water was two building seasons away. But everyone could now see how this would work. The middle section was complete. Now they had to bring the water down from the collection pool and finish the arches into the city.
Teldamir called a meeting of the principal folk on the aqueduct. He had only done that twice before so this must be important. Long, straight stretches of the primary ditch needed curves. Splaying the supply lines from the Ferantie's rock into the city and the bridge should start. It was time for the ironwork like grates, gates and valves. A large collection pond had been created at the right height. Now they had to reroute the stream from the waterfall. It could not have been done before now or it would soak everyone below.
Nag Kath and Heinieth would take the source work. Heronburn had the supply to the city from Farantie's rock. Heronburn's new assistant would ride the line to fit the stretches. The city of West Osgiliath decided on the design that would raise the pipe like a draw bridge. Their folk would start that now. They were not as far along with preparing existing pipes but they had drinking water already. Teldamir had the approvals to make all the bits and pieces. Through all this, the Lords never once blinked about the cost.
The source work was good and bad. Rock on the 'nose' that had to be removed wasn't as tough as it looked. An excellent Dwarf technique; workers crammed rye-seeds into cracks and soaked them. As they sprouted, the expansion forced boulders loose, large enough that no one was allowed directly underneath. With the path open it was time to punch the gate in the waterfall pool to pour down the cascade. Precision was difficult and rendered moot when a large piece of the side wall broke loose and fell into the upper collection pool. A man went over with it and broke his leg on the rocks ten feet below. He had to wait two hours under a freezing torrent until his fellows could shimmy down a rope and pull him to safety. Nag Kath kept the break from festering but the man's aqueduct career was over. The good part was that the hole was close enough to where it should be that it ran into the pool. They just couldn't stop it.
From the other end, three smaller supply aqueducts splayed away from Farantie's Rock for the north, middle and southern holding tanks. After having done the big chute, the experienced crews made good time. Pillar men were always three or four arches ahead of the rocking teams. The Mûmikils were now exclusively used for dragging or carrying materials. Then they or teams of mules hauled rocks up on pulleys to the men on the scaffolds.
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On June 28th Flor went into labor. Nag Kath was there along with a midwife known to Mrs. Hürna. After four hours of pushing and panting, she presented her husband with a beautiful baby girl; ten fingers, ten toes. He held the child while the Miss Wengl cut the cord and then washed her before handing the babe to his tired wife. Was he truly free of Isengard? It seemed so. Women of Gondor, even ranking ones, seldom used nursemaids, preferring to suckle their own children. There were exceptions, but nursemaids were less common here than further south. Penula was as enthralled with the little Kath as anyone and would carry and change her any chance she got.
After a week of being in the way, Nag Kath rode east again but returned once every week or two for a few days. The child was healthy and happy. Her da knew the best rash remedies. He would carry her around the house explaining the same things over and over in different languages. She cooed and squealed with his faces.
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By late fall they were in the final stretch. New foundries in North Ithilien could work through the winter. This year's Syndolan Eve party was the same gay event as always but there were more water people in town. That meant more ale. Folk here and at parties in Osgiliath felt they were close to something that had not been done since middle-Third Age Kings. Another new thing was Nag Kath carried Helien as the early guests arrived and then took her to Mrs. Ceculdin's house. The old woman thought parties were disgraceful, but she loved the little child. The King ordered torches lit every hundred feet along the aqueduct from the source to the city so all could see it. With the fireworks, it was quite a display. Now there was one more thing; a conversation with the Queen to respect.
This party had honored guests. Prince Faramir and Lady Éowyn were in the city for discussions with the King. Always invited as a matter of form, they surprised all arriving in the later shift. Enough people recognized him that everyone knew in time to bow. She was as elegant as ever. He wore fine civilian clothes rather than his usual light armor. Even at 61, the Prince's Dúnedain blood kept him looking no more than middle-aged and always fit. Lady Eowyn spent most of her time talking with Flor who she had met before and liked. The Prince wandered around the home with Nag Kath who made multiple introductions to folk who suddenly forgot how to speak.
The Elf spotted his man. Timalen and Marie were nursing cups of wine wondering how obvious they should be in this esteemed company. Nag Kath motioned them over. "My Lord, these are my oldest friends, Timalen and Marie Brushta. Tim and Marie, meet Prince Faramir. Tim, I was just about to tell the Prince of your inspired idea to build sculpture and relief carvings on the new water structures … to give them the dignity and beauty of works by his honored forebearers. Do you still have the sketches?"
Quastille taught Tim how to run with a lead, "Certainly. We need to make sure the measurements came in as planned, but they should be ready to present within the month."
Prince Faramir was enthused. "Splendid! Nag Kath, you have been holding out on me."
"Just saving the best for last, My Lord. When we started, I spoke to the Lady Arwen about using Elvish elements." Oh how he hated that term. "Now we have a Dwarvish start and an Elvish middle. I say; let us honor the people of Gondor at the end!"
Prince Faramir would speak with the King the very next morning! Nag Kath gave Tim a wink. Marie did not faint. It was beneath them, of course, but the project needed a little style. And it would give Nag and Tim something to do over the winter.
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_~ / ~ / ~ / ~ / ~-_
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Spring brought a flurry of activity. The original Mûmikils worked near Osgiliath. The new ones had Gimli's Cascade. The disease season was mild. All the middle sections were connected. Osgiliath was ready first. The headwater ramp took until July. All this time, Timalen had been making the fountains, tanks and lines look nice. Masons placed the blocks and roughed the shapes. Then Tim, his fellow sculptors of Minas Tirith, Osgiliath and a very talented man from Dol Amroth would complete the faces and hands. Both the King and Prince were featured prominently.
As Gimli said; now it had to work. The first test was the long one from the start to the rock. There were leaks, two of them serious. It took a week to drain the system and make repairs. Then they flooded the system again and filled the holding pool on Ferantie's rock. It worked. Manager Sepulvath kept everyone patient but they secretly ran a test stream into the northernmost city drop-tank before getting the dignitaries scheduled. That worked too, with a few leaks of its own.
After Sepulvath reported he had flow, it was time to make the announcement. The King let Prince Faramir preside over the opening ceremony. This was his fief. Another midnight test was made to the middle line which would include the bridge when the men of the west side had completed their work. That went better than the first, but those were the newest pipes.
The big day came. The rock tank was near full. No one knew how much was enough so they would have to raise those gates gradually. The ceremony was organized around the middle-line main fountain. The Prince and Éowyn were there along with anyone who was anyone in Ithilien and a sizeable contingent from across the river. Mayor Yurbanad put the audience to sleep with his oratory before mercifully ringing a small bell. A fellow on the roof of a tall building waved a flag and the men at the middle tank raised the gate.
It took forever. People were torn between waiting in silence for the water or listening to the mayor again. The central fountain started to sputter air and then gushed, so much that it soaked the first three rows of dignitaries. The flag man signaled to drop the gate a little.
Osgiliath had fresh water.
Nag Kath was watching from the wings. He was still working. But he was very proud. Gandalf said to heal. Mrs. Skilleth said the same. There would always be fevers in the low ground but not because people had to drink fouled water. Prince Faramir gave a very short, moving speech and was handed the first taste; scooped from the central fountain in one of hundreds of commerative cups fired for the occasion. After his sip, he motioned Nag Kath to come over and share. It was the sweetest water they ever had.
There was still a lot of work left to do but it was now in the hands men with on-going positions. They had to check the line constantly, repairing leaks and removing debris. Old underground pipes not used to higher pressure leaked too. West Osgiliath had plenty of problems with the pipe to their home but they eventually got that working. One of the nicest things was that the Haradrim who had toiled so long and hard were accorded a farewell of their own. Suspected and insulted on arrival, they went home as proud men of Middle-Earth. There would be plenty of private work for those magnificent beasts too.
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There were parties and fetes and any number of events to welcome the water. Nag Kath avoided most of them. He thought he worked best behind the scenes. He also thought people would have less confidence in the water if the last dark servant was the one who pronounced it healthy. Some of that was modesty since he was well past being thought an orc. Timalen was in high demand. If mere tradesmen of Osgiliath deserved fine sculpture, the higher orders of the White City deserved no less! It was time to replace or re-cut all those old Numenoreans with broken noses.
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Late fall was lovely in Minas Tirith. Nag Kath and Flor were out and about more often. A favorite restaurant was on the fifth right by the prow. Service was good and they could keep the meat from the rest. On their way inside Nag Kath noticed a blonde man staring at them. Florice was a beautiful woman so it signified nothing.
During the meal, a lout shouted drunkenly from the bar, "The child is mine! She bore my child!"
Nag Kath looked over his shoulder to see what the fuss was about. It was the man who stared at them, staring at them again. The Elf was about to throw him through the window when Flor rose and shouted back, "Go away!"
He gave as good as he got and cried, "Florice, that is my child. I have my rights!"
Nag Kath stood-up but Flor jumped in front of him and repeated, "You go away!" Diners between them sensibly made for the far walls.
The man got maudlin and whimpered, "You belong to me. That is our baby."
Flor held her ground but made a slip in the heat of the exchange, "Irvien, go home, you are not welcome."
Alcohol gave him courage and he sneered at Nag Kath, "She said you could not father a babe! Her first husband likes sailors. What about you?! A real man would slay the brat! But you are no man."
Nag Kath raised his left hand and flexed his fingers. A moment later, the blonde man flew across the room sending tables and chairs skidding in all directions. Nag Kath held him by the throat watching him feebly kick and foul himself as the air left his body. The Elf pulled him face to face and said softly, "If you ever threaten my family again, I can crush your windpipe from anywhere on earth." Then he dropped the dougsh and looked around the room. Flor was gone. She was running back to the house but did not have the wind or shoes to make good time. She also made a wrong turn in the darkness. When she got home, the door was locked.
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A husband could kill a child born of adultery. It was illegal, but men did it with impunity. Flor pounded on the door crying, "Nag Kath, please do not harm her! She is just a baby!" She rattled the door latch but it held firm so she kicked it and screamed, "Please, please do not hurt her." When no one came, she collapsed at the threshold and cried the cry of the damned. It had all failed. There would be nothing left. She did not even notice the cold. In abject misery she leaned against the door sobbing for her dear child and the hurt she had caused.
Flor almost fell inside when Penula opened the door. She scrambled to her feet and ran inside to see Nag Kath holding Helien the way he always did. The child seemed delighted that da was home to hear her gurgling baby laughs. The changeling nodded to the Lady's Maid who took Flor's coat and disappeared in the kitchen.
Florice regained some composure but said through tears, "Nag Kath, please, please do not hurt her. It is not her fault." Her lip was bleeding from biting it so hard outside pounding on the door. "That man …" She was breathing too hard to finish. "That man …"
"… is Helien's father, yes?"
She nodded in shame but was more concerned for her child. "I did not want you to find out, not this way. You deserved better than this. When did you know?"
"I've always known."
Of all the infuriating Elves! She searched for something to say when he added, "You wanted a child. I could not give you one. Your last husband could not give you one. So you found a way. See, here is my color." The finger little Helien was clutching glowed silver. "And here is hers." The baby's little hand shone pale yellow. She thought it such fun and waved her arm up and down.
He said, "I'm going to get some tea. Do you want a mug?" He made for the kitchen.
She nodded with her mouth open and followed him as far as the living room. Penula was standing just inside the kitchen with Turnlie. Both were crying and now ashamed that their master would see them in such a state. He told them, "Do not worry. Turnlie, could you find us some tea?"
Flor collapsed on the sofa. In her world, she could not imagine any man being publicly humiliated as a cuckold without violence or retribution. She would have to leave. He had every right to cast her out and keep the baby. She still had some of the money he gave her but it would not last long. Maybe her sister would take her in.
Her husband handed her the baby who instantly wanted to suckle. She opened her blouse. Nag Kath sat next to her as Turnlie placed the tea mugs on the low table and left. They listened to Helien making little smacking sounds. Flor said in utter despair, "Nag, thank you for not hurting her."
"Flor, this is our child. She is as close as I will ever get to a child. You had the courage to create her and nurture her because you wanted her so much. I will always love her. And I will always love you. Can that be enough?"
She had to let that sink through the numbness. Could it be enough? She knew his emotions were nothing like the men of the world, but that much? He took a sip of the tea and wiggled a finger at Helien who had come up for air. "See, mama's not crying anymore."
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The next couple days Flor walked on eggshells. Something must go wrong. Her mind was made. Nag Kath sat at the dining table working on ramps or arches or some such thing as if nothing had happened. They slept in the same bed. He embraced her but did not go further. She wanted him desperately but dared not. Would he ever touch her again?
On the third night Flor could not take the suspense and longing. She reached out to him. He had been waiting. Near dawn she asked meekly, "Nag, can you ever forgive me?"
"Hmmmm?"
"Can you forgive me?"
He became very grave, "Do you remember when the orcs attacked?"
That was not where this conversation was supposed to go, "A little. I was six."
"While the battle raged I was in a cell on the second level. Every other orc in the army of Sauron was destroyed except me, every single one. By sorcery, I became what I am. When I was sent to my birthplace for judgment, I traveled with men my orcs had maimed and crippled, murdered their friends and families. I washed them when they could not help themselves. I fed them. I protected them with my bare hands because that was all I had.
"Upon reaching their home, a great lord of Rohan gave me his sword. I had served his people. He forgave me. And every day, I am alive because someone has forgiven me for being one of the greatest monsters the world has ever known. Powers great and small have decided there should only be one of me. So when you ask if I can forgive you for bringing a precious little life into the world, I already have. I could not exist without forgiveness."
Flor sobbed. Despite everything, Nag still seemed a boy. She never understood he could only be the way he was to escape unimaginable pain. And he loved her. And he forgave her. It was a good kind of crying until he completely ruined the mood by propping up on his elbow and asking, "You don't plan to have more, do you?"
When Flor finally stopped laughing, she slept.