Chapter 11
What Could Not Be
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The next morning he needed to make a short trip over the river. Flor kissed him after he saddled Regaldin and collected his bag. Then she started crying. Last night seemed to have healed the pain and, as usual, he wondered why women cried when they were glad. He kissed her back as she said, "I will miss you, my dear."
"Don't worry. I won't be but a few days."
Climbing aboard, he left to visit Osgiliath and inspect the south line. There were cracks in a number of the cover tiles so someone else might have to replace all of them. He also had some unfinished business with the witches here and then had to reclaim his poor house after seven years of unwashed guests. The guests were still there.
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Back three evenings later, the home felt empty. Turnlie scurried out of the kitchen and knelt before him in tears, "I'm sorry, Mr. Kath. I din't know."
"What is it Turnlie?
"The missus and Pen, they're gone. Took the babe too."
Nag Kath scanned the room. He had not admitted it to himself, or placed the chances slim, that Flor might leave. After the first flush of emotion, he calmed and said softly to Turnlie, "Come sit over here and tell me what happened."
She never made eye contact as she sat on the couch. He took the chair beside. The poor woman's lip would not stop trembling but she managed to say, "You'se away. Pen told me to go to the stationers north o' the prow on the third, you'se getting an important box, she said. Said to stay there all day if I had to. So I did. Nothing came so I come home when the shop closed and they's gone!
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Kath!"
"Any idea where they went, Turnlie?"
"No sir. But they's bags musta been packed cause they took their things and little Helien's too." She sobbed and blew her nose on a handkerchief hidden in her sleeve before adding, "Musta had a wagon or man-cart. I asked Loomus out front but it wasn't his."
Nag Kath had much to do. First was to calm his cook. "You are in no trouble, dear Turnlie. Now, do you think you could find us a nice mug of tea?"
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As the shadows grew long, Nag Kath walked down to the man-cart guild office on the first level. As usual, the place was a madhouse of men trying to squeeze one more trip out of their day. He stepped inside and told someone who looked like he worked there that he needed to see Mr. Sandrous, right now. The fellow looked up at the towering Lord and said, "This way."
Sandrous was in the back talking to a wheel-wright when his junior man walked up and nodded towards Nag Kath. He had never met the Elf but there could be no doubt this was the creature of local legend. He shook his hand and invited him into the yard for privacy, "What can I do for you, sir?"
"An attractive blonde woman, a toddler and a lady's maid left the fourth, south of the prow on Wednesday. It would have taken at least two carts to move their things. I need to talk with whoever pulled them. The pullers are in no trouble." Nag Kath handed Sandrous a nipper and a card. "There's more for the men. We keep this quiet."
That was an exorbitant bribe. And if the reputation of the Elf was half true, much better than being flung across a room and choked. Sandrous, a hard man in a hard business, said levelly, "If they left in a man-cart, I'll find out. If not, I have a few friends drives pony wagons on the switchbacks. Private carts; can't help ya."
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The next morning brought a knock. Turnlie answered it with Nag Kath standing behind her. Without preamble, a grizzled fellow in woolens said, "Sandrous told me you wanted a word."
"Come in. What's your name?"
"Willigs, sir." Man-carter Willigs was seldom invited inside but he respectfully took off his cap as he looked about the room. Nag Kath pointed to a chair and they both sat down. A wink to Turnlie brought tea. The Elf said, "A tall blonde woman with a child and her maid left here three days ago, maybe from this house. What do you know about that?"
"It was this house. My son and I carried their bags and the old woman. Then I came back for the mother and child and a few other things."
The Elf asked, "Where did you take them?"
"Just off the gate where the wagons for the Rammas dock load."
Nag Kath followed his answer with, "Was there anyone with them?"
"No sir, not that I saw. But I'll tell you this for nothing; there were more bags with theirs when I took the lady and babe down. Good quality. I see a lot of bags in my trade."
Nag Kath was impressed. Residents of Minas Tirith take lowly carters for granted but they make a good living if they have the right territory. The Guild sees to interlopers. The man did not slurp his tea. "What time of day was that?"
"Near to the noon-bell by the second trip, time enough to catch the Lodestar or the Ithil Breeze downriver. Nothing rowing up that time of day."
Nag Kath took a moment and then asked, "You seem a knowledgeable fellow. Well-dressed ladies, probably with a gentleman, which of those boats would they take?"
"Ithil Breeze. The Loadstar is a, well, not the cleanest of vessels, sir."
"When does she put in again?"
The carter thought first and then said, "If they make for Pelargir, two weeks. Reckon two days back for every day down as to gauge the distance."
Nag Kath walked to the dining table and got his sketch pad. Wordlessly, he sat back down and doodled for a few minutes. Willigs sat patiently. This would be worth his time. The Elf handed him the paper with quick sketches of Flor, Penula and what he remembered of the man he throttled in the restaurant saying, "When the master of that boat returns, ask what he knows." With that he handed Willigs five silvers and laid his finger along his nose. Willigs slipped the coins into his vest pocket without biting them.
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He was torn. His woman had fled with his child down the river, probably with the natural father of Helien. Unlike most men, Nag Kath did not think they were his property. To follow them and make an impassioned plea or take one or both by force would only make things worse.
Things could not be as they had been. Flor would guard their baby zealously. If it was the same man at the bar; he would cause them grief. Nag Kath guessed he probably had a little money. Did she love him or was he just for stud? Nag Kath wished he didn't care. Then there was what he would do. The water project was in capable hands. Winter was coming. He did not have a lot on his plate, and he needed advice.
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"Hullo, Mrs. Tippi. I was hoping Tal might be home."
"Oh hello, Mr. Kath. Come in. Let me see if she is receiving."
The cheerful Mrs. Tippi disappeared down a hall and emerged with Talereth a minute later. Tal held her hands out to be kissed and said, "Sit down." Tea would be here shortly. The woman would be in her early fifties now. She had broadened a bit and there was gray in her hair but the flow of her movement told of fires still burning. Tal sat herself and asked, "Now what brings you out at such an unsocial hour of the day? No, first, thank you for getting Ectilla on the sculpting crew. Women usually aren't included in that sort of work. Timalen helped her a great deal."
"I am glad. And she did a good job. Hopefully her stock has risen among cultured eyes in Minas Tirith." He tried the tea but it was too hot. "Tal, I need to talk about Flor. She …"
Tal interrupted, "Oh, poor dear. She has not been herself lately. Should I have a word with her?" Nag Kath said nothing. He did not have a face that was easy to read but she divined this was something else, something worse.
"She left, took Helien and Pen with her, probably with the girl's father. It seems they took a ferry down the river when I was in the east."
Tal closed her eyes letting let her friend's pain wash over her. Sitting with her was one of the fairest people she ever met. Floating away was a dear woman who finally had what she wanted and it wasn't enough, or it was too much. If she knew her Elf, he was here for counsel, not sympathy.
"I wondered about the babe."
"It was not meant to be. One Orc Six in the world is too many by some counts. I told her I was glad she had done so. I meant it, but how could she ever believe me?"
"Flor is a very traditional woman who was groomed into her first marriage. It was almost perfect. She loved you but you are no society husband." Despite the somber mood, she smiled. Everyone loved that about Tal. "Did you really plow the dougsh through all the furniture?"
"Fraid so. That's a new spell. I tried to squeeze his throat where he stood rather than drag him over and stink-up the restaurant." He smiled too, "I have to work on that one."
In sympathy she said, "I am sorry for both of you, Nag Kath. Will you seek her?"
He shook his head, "Maybe we were both trying too hard for something so simple. I will miss Helien terribly. I liked being a father."
She asked softly, "Will you stay, Nag Kath?"
"Through the winter. Then I will go downriver to see my daughter. After that, Dale, I think. I gave myself a generation of men to learn my spirit. Now, I will learn why I am here."
She willed a brave smile, "Then I will see you many times before you go. Please remember there are people who love you everywhere you have been. Do not forsake us."
He kissed her forehead and walked home.
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Physical activity always helped Nag Kath calm his mind, and it needed much calming. He rode Regaldin on the plain, shot arrows, practiced sword-play with heavy wood staves to build his control. Painting would have to wait for the right muse.
He would attend to business as well. Nag Kath dropped in on Broughtur and Sylveth Mülto. The landlord seemed to know his trade so the Elf proposed a partnership. He would put-up a hundred Florin to purchase buildings for Kathen Properties through the bank and they could keep half the rent for managing them. That was an astonishing deal for Mülto who readily agreed.
Nag Kath made the same offer to Tumlen who had parlayed his salary and connections into a modest operation of his own. Now a man of 22, he was ready and capable. That included his house in Osgiliath. There was even a pretty woman interested in the short, blue-eyed businessman. In this case, the changeling wondered about his usual lifespan and had the property put in a trust entailed to charity a hundred years hence if he never claimed it. That way if he disappeared for decades at a time it would not be given to heirs. There was plenty for them to share.
Against the possibility that Flor and Helien went upstream, he gave Tumlen a sketch of Flor and Penula to remind him what they looked like. Since he was here, Nag Kath took advantage of fair weather to ride out to the compound. Rotating crews of four men stayed to inspect the works from the Vale four miles west. Similar teams now stayed at the work camps. Now that the first leaks were fixed, the design worked well.
He climbed up to the waterfall and looked back at Osgiliath. The aqueduct and the road next to it was a scar across the landscape, no doubt about that. But it brought health. Such was the nature of man; to build and serve their hard lives. Fortunately, no sentient trees were cut. Perhaps Minas Ithil would be rebuilt; though there would have to be a reason to go into Mordor. That might be lifetimes in coming.
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Nag Kath did not have a Syndolan party this year. He could not face starting every conversation explaining Flor's absence, or skirting the subject with people who already knew. One of the latter was King Elessar who invited him up the hill that night.
"Good evening, Sire, My Lady."
Aragorn said, "Happy Syndolan Eve, Nag Kath. Thank you for coming."
"Quite a view for the fireworks."
Queen Arwen responded, "Those are my favorites too. How does it feel to be the hero of water, Nag Kath?"
"I am both proud and tired. I think the real test will be in spring when folk aren't subject to pestilence."
The King asked, "What is next for you then?"
"Perhaps Pelargir for a spell. Then I am long overdue to see my step-children in Dale. We have exchanged letters all the while but that is not the same as hugging them. One of my grandchildren is in her twenties now! I even have a great grandchild. They call me uncle to save confusion. Come April, I will ride north for a time."
Aragorn said, "Let us talk before you go. I am overdue to visit the north as well." The King knew Nag Kath would keep that to himself. Yes, he had much to do in Arnor. "We will visit the Hobbits."
The royals and their guests watched a skilled rocketeer fire-off an assortment of sparklers and exploding missiles. As the man was cleaning-up, a candle lit over Nag Kath's head.
Was Gandalf's box of powders still in Orthanc?
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By late March Tumlen had purchased three buildings. A friend told him about a good buy in the south of the city so he wandered down for a look. It wasn't what they wanted. Leaving the lobby he saw the older woman of the picture Nag Kath pinned to the office wall. She was shopping on Vue Langaroth, looking up occasionally to see if anyone was watching her. Tum climbed on his horse and rode hard to the fourth level of Minas Tirith.
"It was her, or close enough I thought you should see for yourself."
Nag Kath had his full attention. "Good man, Tum. Did you see where she went?"
"I followed her half a block to the back entrance of the Numenorean. Then I came straight here."
Nag Kath stood up and asked, "Do you need a fresh horse."
"Nay, I pinched one of the Lossarnach mounts from the stable. She'll be fine on the way back."
They rode at a modest speed back across the bridge and stopped a block north of the inn. The Numenorean was the nicest place on the southeast side of Osgiliath and catered to elite merchant river traffic on the Great River. Tumlen walked in the kitchen door carrying a box and said in a pleasing tone to the oldest woman in the room, "Excuse me, I must have just missed my client's lady's maid, thought she might have come through here."
He was well dressed and spoke politely so the cook said, "Lots of thems round here, dear. What does she look like?"
He couldn't show them the picture without explaining why he had it, but he described her nearly to the mole on the side of her neck. One of the maids who took food upstairs walked behind the cook and said, "She's with a couple got here yesterday. Took the front corner suite on the second. I'm going up there shortly. Want I should get her?"
Tumlen whispered, "Better not, I should have been here by noon. I'll just make my delivery and all's well, eh?" He gave each of them a fiver and laid his finger alongside his nose.
Walking through to the lobby, he waited until the desk clerk turned to help a guest and disappeared up the stairs. The serving woman cracked the door open. Tumlen smiled and said, "Delivery from Chanderie and Family. Where would you like this?"
Without a word she opened the door and pointed to a table where Tumlen could put the shirt Nag Kath bought a few minutes before. He asked her, "Can the mister sign for this? They like me to show it was delivered proper."
"He's out. And you should know to use the delivery door."
"Sorry ma'am. I'm filling-in for the regular man." A bit sheepishly he added, "Can you show me the best way to leave?"
Back in the alley Tum summarized, "Nag, she's serving a couple in room 210, that's a suite on the northwest corner. Go through the kitchen to the right and then the stairway to the service doors of that row. No numbers. I dropped a piece of paper by the threshold. Her employers are out just now." He added with a smile, "Hope his shirt fits."
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It was getting dark and Penula was about to light the lamps in the main room when her match went out. Reaching for another in her apron she heard, "Hullo, Pen."
"Huhhhh?!"
Coming from a chair in the dark corner, "It has been a while."
"Nag Kath?"
"Why did you come back?"
She said tentatively, "Woman's gotta work."
"You had a job."
When she said nothing he asked, "Where's Helien?"
Penula knew she was trapped. She aided the wife of her employer in fleeing him and taking his child. That was not completely accurate but he could have her caned to within an inch of her life. A tear rolled down her hardened face, "The child is dead."
He said nothing. She did not see him hang his head between his knees. Anything to fill the ghastly silence, Pen continued, "Fever got her in Pelargir a month after we docked."
He implored, "Why, Pen?"
"Irvien convinced her that as the child's true father, Flor must go away with him to his people's home, Dystran, they are. I had the choice of going with her or telling you."
"Flor had a home."
The woman was angry in her grief. She loved Helien as much as anyone alive. "Best home she ever had! But you scared her, Mr. Kath. Your magic and high Lords and strange ways! She was never meant for that!" She gathered herself, "Flor is a simple girl and she made the choice that tore the heart from her. A month after that, Irvien picked a fight with a deckhand who kept a knife in his boot. Slit him stem to stern. I was cut adrift and landed with the Belangors. He sold iron bits to your water crew." In a smaller voice, "You gonna kill me, Mr. Kath?"
"No."
"Want to know where Flor is?"
"No."
She heard the door shut. Wiping tears with her apron, Pen lit the lamps.
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Nag Kath had had enough emotional education. He could have done without fury. An enraged wizard, even a weak one, is a dangerous creature. He gripped his hand until the knuckles were white; knowing his threat against the blonde man was empty even when the dougsh was alive. That did not ease the anger. Deeper than deep down, he had been a creature capable of great rage – more than capable, born to it. Nag Kath understood now that the orc had been purged but the memory remained. He kept it barely covered. His greatest anger since Orthanc reminded him what he was.
Halfway to Minas Tirith fury became sadness. Flor was gone. Her life was ruined. He would not kill her, but forgiveness would have to wait. Pen did what she was told, which is what servants do. Poor Helien. He might have saved her with a touch of his hand. He dismounted, sat in the dirt and cried. Passersby left him alone. Before he noticed, Regaldin nuzzled him in the blackness.
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For uncounted times, Nag Kath considered the limitations of healing. One could only cure curable diseases. The patient had to be fundamentally healthy with a wound or a malady that shouldn't be there like a fever or an infection. Frodo's stabbing was a famous case. He was a fit fellow and his body could fight with extra help.
You could not heal someone who would eventually die of the affliction. Eniece always came to mind. When the wasting started, her body turned against itself. He could help her pain but had to watch her suffer. That was why the women who healed had to be so careful. If they misdiagnosed an illness and absorbed a killing disease, they would not catch it, but it could sap their life strength.
Helien could have been saved. He knew it in his soul.
Nag Kath rode Regaldin at a walk the rest of the way home getting special dispensation from the gate guards. They knew who he was and cheered him. Turnlie was not concerned even though he had not said he was leaving. He was here when he wanted. In cold months she usually left soup on the stove.
He ate a little waybread in silence. Nag Kath decided he would only tell Tal what he found. Everyone else could think what they wanted. Tomorrow morning, he would prepare to leave. That started at the top of the hill. Nag Kath had never sought an audience with the King. The first two visits he was a prisoner. The next two dozen were at Aragorn's pleasure. He walked to the sentry on a far door from the petitioners who conveyed the message. It was still a two hour wait but an attendant collected him and showed him to the King's study.
"Good morning, Nag Kath."
"It is a pretty day, My Lord."
"What can I do for you?"
"I have decided to accept your offer to travel north if that is still your purpose. I just need to know when we leave to put my affairs in order. It will likely be some time before I return."
"Two weeks from tomorrow. Best keep that under your hat."
"Thank you, Sire. I will see you then."
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Unlike Dale, he would say some proper goodbyes here. There was no escaping that he must always leave people behind. The tyranny of distance or time would win. That did not make it any easier.
Amiedes Tallazh was now eighty six. He had slowed quite a bit in the eight years since they renewed their acquaintance but he walked on his own power and still had youth in his eyes. They spoke for an hour over the fine Khandian tea.
One of his hardest partings was with Regaldin. The horse was now sixteen and ready for a softer life than racing here and there. One of Captain Burno's militiamen had just lost his older horse to torsion. He would appreciate an experienced charger. Nag Kath scratched Reg's ear while he nibbled carrots from his new owner. The day before he brought his favorite of the Lossarnach station mounts from Osgiliath. His name was Charlo and Charlo loved to run. The same size as Regaldin, the saddle and tack fit him fine. Like all Elves, Nag Kath had never used mouth-bits. Elf and horse spent some time every day learning the subtleties of side-pull reins.
Tim and Marie knew this was coming. They all truly believed they would see each other again. Nag Kath planned to come back and he was very hard to kill. When he was here, they would talk old times. He organized a dinner for the water crew. A table for twelve was not nearly enough so they commandeered a corner of the restaurant. He told everyone how proud he was of them, that their children's children would praise the work they did. They were the Numenoreans reborn and they should always hold their heads high.
The next goodbye would be the hardest. Ectillion had just retired and was much at home. Tal smiled sweetly at him and he and Mrs. Tippi both remembered chores they had to do elsewhere.
She had intended to maintain her composure but the tears came. "Oh Nag, I hate this. Parting from you the first time nearly killed me. Now you are going again. You are always the same. It makes me feel young. You have been good luck for me."
"I have been very lucky too. When I return, we will relive the Revanthars all over again."
Her face was stained by tears but she still managed her clever smile, "I'm sorry about Flor and the baby. If they were here, you would stay."
After seeing his friend so sad, Nag Kath debated if he should tell her. She deserved the truth. "Tal, that can't happen. Helien died, right after they left. A fever took her. Her father walked into a knife within a month. If Flor is still alive, she's somewhere on the river, all alone or worse. I left an annuity at the bank if she ever comes back as long as someone tells her to claim it. I did that the same day I filed for a divorce. I pulled a few strings to get it through in a week. We both need to be free for what lies ahead.
"Be kind to her, Tal. She will need that."
Talereth was in shock. She could not cry. Her two friends; come to this. He left half an hour later after restoring some of her good humor. Yes, they would relive the last charge yet again.
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There was one last piece of business. Turnlie could cry as well as anyone. She knew this was coming too but had the added stress of not knowing what would happen to her. He spoke to her very calmly, "Turn, I need you to care for my home while I am away. That could be a long time. An account has been opened at the bank to pay all of the bills and taxes and repairs to keep the place in good shape. Mr. Mülto will manage that for you and your salary. You can live here as long as you want and you can have other people live here with you. Just leave downstairs alone for when I come back. I'll put a few boxes down there before I go."
She kept crying but this wasn't so bad. It got better. He handed her a small leather purse and continued, "Here are five Florin. That is for you. I suggest you keep that private so no one takes advantage. Take care of the place and remember our wonderful Syndolan parties! I am going to leave in two days. In that bag are veries and some gonboral leaves. I'd like you to make a big batch of Lembas bread before then. You're going to be just fine."
She was now a secure woman but still blubbering. "Mr. Kath, what if Mrs. Kath comes back?"
"Be very kind to her."