Chapter 17
The Moon of Gelansor
Charlo was ready for exercise. He wasn't as ready for cold water. Pushed, most horses ford rivers well when they remember to swim. Then they made good time towards the traditional capital of Kugavod. For three days Nag Kath saw only farmers and the occasional merchant until the day before reaching the capital when he was met by a six-troop of lancers under the Bror's standard. Beardless blonde riders need questioning so the company pulled to a halt and the Sergeant came forward saying in broken Westron, "Your home is far. What is business?"
"I am on an errand to speak with Bror Dulgov."
"Why does he care?"
"My friends think we have common purpose."
The man showed an assortment of brown teeth, "You have high friends."
"They think so."
"You will ride with us."
"I will be honored."
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Whatever the troop was doing wasn't as important as escorting the westerling back to the capital. Other than stopping to water the horses and take relief, they pushed to Kugavod in darkness beneath the barest crescent moon. A sentry on the battlement called down and was given a password. The gate squeaked open enough to let the horses through single file and Nag Kath found himself in a large courtyard lit by occasional torches on stout block walls. Only the Sergeant dismounted and walked over to two men at a smaller gate. One of them went inside and everyone waited where they were.
After a few minutes a man in robes accompanied by two soldiers with torches came out with the sentry. The Sergeant whistled and the trooper next to Nag Kath said, "You come." Come he did and they rode to the small door before dismounting.
The robed official said in fair Westron, "Please come with me. Your horse and sword remain." There was never a hope he would get close to any royal bearing arms so there was no reason to protest. He did say the satchel held important papers. They let him keep it after checking for steel. The man and his two torchbearers led Nag Kath through a warren of hallways to a small room. One of the torches was used to light a candle. The robed man said, "Please, be comfortable. We will tell the Bror you come when he wakes." They left and he heard the unmistakable sound of the lock clicking. This wasn't a prison cell. It was probably nicer than most people's homes. Nag Kath pulled off his boots and sat on the cot after blowing out the candle.
There was no window but he could tell it was probably mid-morning by the light under the door. Another man, in the same robed-armor as the first, slid the bolt and gestured for the Elf to follow between two sizeable guards. He was escorted through a different warren of halls with the light and furnishings getting better at each turn. When they reached an antechamber with an ornate tile floor, his minder turned and said in passable Westron, "I must now ask your business with Bror and who send you."
"I represent the governments of Dale, Gondor and the Dwarf Halls of the north. My business is difficulty the Bror's brother may cause between your land and theirs."
The man repeated Nag Kath's statement before nodding and walking through an open door in front of them. He came out five minutes later and said, "Your bag please." He got it. "This way."
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The self-appointed Reunited emissary was shown through a long hall into a smaller room on the other side where a large bald man with a thick, braided beard and side-hair was sitting at a huge, plank table eating chicken. His clothes were heavy for the season and had ornate embroidery on the collar and cuffs but were otherwise ordinary. The fellow looked up and licked his fingers before saying in fair Westron, "You travel far. What can Bror of Rhûn do for august kings of West?"
Nag Kath bowed deeply and answered, "A small thorn in the toe, My Lord. Hardly worth troubling you."
"Untended thorns fester."
"Indeed."
"You are here about my brother, yes?"
"We are concerned he may not honor your lawful inheritance and seek lands ruled by friends of the true Bror."
"What is that to me?"
"Nothing, if he fails."
The Bror wiped his mouth with his sleeve and took a slurp of something in a large, jeweled goblet. Collecting his thoughts he growled, "And if he succeeds?"
"Then your lands have old enemies again. Worse if one of them is your brother."
Dulgov wiped his face with a real napkin and observed, "I do not think the Thains of Dale stand to lose much after so little rain."
"Methinks south, Lord Bror. His troops are set to invest Dorwinion the day after Yegraph's Feast. He purposes to attack Gondor."
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Setting aside any notion of banter, the Bror put his thumb and forefinger to either side of his mouth and sent a piercing whistle through the air. Immediately, two more sentries came in the door Nag Kath had entered. The man told them something in their tongue and they disappeared. Then he swished whatever was in the goblet in his mouth and swallowed before rising and walking to his guest.
"If you are lying, it will take you a long time to die. What is your name?"
"Nag Kath, Lord Bror."
The man had a hard look at his guest before shaking his head and saying to himself in Rhûnic, "Too young."
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A proud officer walked through the door receiving nods from both the interior guards and presented himself to the Bror on one knee. His liege said, "Rise." The man straightened up with his helmet under his arm.
"This foreigner says my confused brother thinks to cross Kelduash and take land in Dorwinion. Why have I not heard this from you?"
The officer blanched slightly but held his ground, "I cannot say, Excellency. We are still seeing patrols well inland. He must move much closer to the river than he has been."
They were speaking in the common-tongue so this was for the benefit of the foreigner. The Bror turned to Nag Kath and ordered, "Explain why you claim this."
"Your unfortunate brother has been in league with orcs to the north, promising them food for harrying Dalish Thains. All the while, he masses troops in Feeruld along with considerable horsemen so as not to be confined to your eastern lands. If the infantry is to cross fully armed, I would seek barges to follow the current to Tas Surren after the cavalry has forded to make safe the landing. The barges will either be there or they won't."
The Bror got very close to Nag Kath. That move usually had him tower over his own people but he had to speak up at the Elf, "And if you were me, you would destroy the barges?"
"I dare not presume to think as Bror of your people."
"And if you did?"
Nag Kath thought a little challenge would help, "I would get my horses back."
The Bror's face changed colors twice before he blurted to the officer, "You heard the man." Relieved to be out of Dulgov's withering stare, the soldier nodded curtly and marched out the way he came.
"Kath, you will remain here until this is certain."
"I look forward to my stay, Lord Bror.
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Nag Kath was handed his satchel and led to a gate just outside the palace. He expected to be taken back to his room but instead waited alone for quite a while until a peasant in ordinary clothes silently waved him to follow. They walked past what seemed to be a proper gaol for at least another half mile to a large, oval walled-compound. Entering a sturdy gate he saw four huts spaced around the walls with an ill-kept garden of flowers and vegetables on one end. He thought this was the detention area for people who might have to be produced alive later.
Surprisingly, the little quill knife in his pocket was not taken. He turned to ask the guard which hut was his but the fellow had already shut the gate. Nag Kath was the only one here. Inside the nearest structure he peered inside finding a mug, basin and a serving bowl with a crude wooden spoon. There was also a dusty blanket on the planks for a bedroll.
Wandering outside, a small rivulet, surprisingly clean, gurgled from a grate in the northern wall towards the garden. The Elf went back to the hut to get his basin and washed his face as it filled. He also took stock. The walls around the oval measured about forty paces on the long dimension. They weren't uniform in height but never less than fourteen feet. It would be no trouble to scale and escape but he would leave with the clothes on his back.
Cucumbers and squash were ripe and there was some sort of cabbage that seemed edible. Assorted berries were almost ready. It would be hard for a man to live on that but an Elf could make due if no one brought anything else. He had Lembas in the bag. Nag Kath got his sketch board out and started doodling pictures of the lilies. His eye was out. Angles were wrong. Perspective was uncertain. Perhaps it was just boredom.
At about high sun, an old man shuffled out of the hut across from his and bowed. He was bald and beardless but had good teeth and used them in an almost constant smile. There was more than a drop of Khandian blood that gave him an olive complexion in contrast to the pasty Northmen and pale Nag Kath.
"Good day, young man."
"Good day to you, sir."
"You are newly arrived, yes?"
Nag Kath squinted in the sun, "This morning. I may be here some time."
"I have been here three weeks." The old boy looked at the sketch pad and wondered, "Are you writing your verses for Gelansor? I do mine by memory, but not as well as I did."
The Elf walked over to show him the flowers and said, "No, sir. I am new to these lands and only just heard of Gelansor. I hope I have not caused offense."
The small man grinned, "There are few who remember now, but fewer who write, so I guessed."
Nag Kath remembered his manners; "I would offer you tea but I haven't any. You are welcome to join me for conversation. Please, tell me of Gelansor."
The old boy held up a finger and announced, "I have tea, of a sort. One does with what one has. If you will bring your basin? Just a moment." He turned towards his hut and slowly but purposefully made his way back in the open door. Nag Kath collected his large bowl and they met a minute later. The old boy explained, "I pinch leaves and leave it in the sun."
"Nag Kath went back into his hut for his mug while the elder stirred the leaves. When the Elf returned, each dipped their mugs in the bowl. The elder savored the taste before saying, "Close your eyes and imagine it is Telandren." After another sip, "Those who still speak my name call me Orlo."
"I am called Nag Kath. It is a pleasure to meet you, Orlo. I hope your quarters are comfortable."
"I have stayed in worse, though they have no notion how to fillet the seehar fish correctly, northerners being what they are." He took another sip, "Alas, my brother-in-law is Khan of Mistrand and it seems there were irregularities with tax receipts. I am visiting while the Bror's clackers check the ledgers."
The Elf empathized, "Oh dear, are you the collector?"
"Heavens no. I am a retired boat-wright. But someone must come as the Bror's guest to guarantee fealty. The Khan's daughter is a foolish creature with a foolish husband, scarcely worthy of the Bror's hospitality." Nag Kath thought that the most graciously explained detention he ever heard. Orlo continued, "My wife is long past such cares and my own daughter, be she blessed by Those Named, is a simple girl who lives out of reach."
The Elf could hop the wall with the Bror's scalp if he wanted, but he was here for information and to favor the more moderate eastern neighbor. Gently nudging he said, "I fear troubles with Bror's brother have brought me to this lovely garden."
Orlo took a sip of the weak tea and thought aloud, "Brothers can be trouble. I never had a brother. My sister made a good match all those years ago. She is a clever woman but did not produce a son. The Khan's concubine did. He finds the woman silly and has my sister tell him stories."
Nag Kath admitted, "I have no brothers or sisters. But I have known many families where brothers live as friends."
"Yes, but everyone has to agree that no one gets all, else hard feelings stew. A man with two fish will give his brother one, but a man with two lands will not. It is a confusion."
Nag Kath gently steered, "Orlo, you said you live on a river."
"Yes, yes, an unlovely brown ditch that comes from grudging hills. It silts the inlet and the fish, in their wisdom, breed vastly. I made boats to catch them when I moved more quickly."
The Elf added to the thread, "I forded a river on the northwest corner of the sea. My horse and I got a good soaking for our pains."
Orlo touched his chin with his finger and said, "Yes, that is a real river. I have not been there in a generation but I should imagine it is the same now."
Nag Kath fed-out a little more line, "Another man crossed the other way when I did. He was riding a small, hairy horse but it swam well and did not shy at the water."
Orlo considered that, "Those are the horses bred along the eastern shore, above Kelepar. That is the grazing land of Rhûn. I have never owned a horse but those are said to be good-natured and easy to feed. I know more of boats. If you live on a sea, you must know boats!" The old man brightened saying, "Of course, he could have easily taken a barge across the inlet of the sea like any number of merchants."
The little blood coloring Nag Kath's face drained into his stomach. Had he sent Dorwinion's paltry defense upriver while the enemy leisurely floated across the little bay? His circulation returned when Orlo continued, "Of course they have to pay the tax. His Excellency the Bror keeps good troops on the north bank, and the winds blow east this time of year. I had forgotten that.
"If you will excuse me, young Nag Kath. I should rest and finish my recitations. Perhaps if your business with the Bror's family is not completed, we can speak again."
"Until then, Mr. Orlo."
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Nag Kath had an unsettled rest. He slept, for no apparent reason, and woke well after dawn. Breakfast was what he picked. He ate a little. After a stretch he started sketching Orlo's hut directly across from his, mostly for lack of anything else to do. The drawing was poor. Contrasts were sloppy.
He wondered if he was getting sick. Uruks didn't get sick. They simply fell when weakness overtook them. Since no one would help, that's where they died. Elves weren't supposed to get ill either, but perhaps they were only immune to the maladies where they lived. None of them ever lived among Easterlings. No, his own color tested pure. He tried wakeful rest again and drifted away.
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It must have been early afternoon when Orlo eased out onto his porch and sat on the only step with his tea. Nag Kath shook himself awake and walked over with what he hoped was a passable bow. "Good day Mr. Orlo."
"Just Orlo, young man. You seem unsettled."
"Something in the water, perhaps. I'll be well soon enough."
"Good. No news of the Usurper?"
That was a change. Anyone above ground knew of the squabble but the old boy had made only the most general references to tensions when they met. Nag Kath contemplated that and answered, "No, I think it may be some time. His Excellency has extended his courtesy while he verifies my peoples' concerns."
"His Excellency is a considerate host. If you can bring more water, I have more tea." Orlo rose with the help of a steadying hand on the roof post and went inside, returning a minute later. The Elf filled his basin at the stream and returned, placing it in the sun next to their feet. Orlo crushed leaves from a bag in his robe and floated them on the surface.
They swirled in eddies and currents, almost like fish-pools on a stream. Orlo grumbled, "Needs more leaves." Reaching into his pocket he pulled the bag and a five-groat copper fell into the water. When the old man achingly started to stoop for it, Nag Kath courteous reached into the water and handed it to him.
That triggered an involuntary water test. It was clean. It was cleaner than clean. There was something there. He examined the stream on arrival and felt nothing. Retrieving the coin showed the faintest silver. The old man stared but was not alarmed. Nag Kath wasn't sure how long he stood peering at the floating leaves forming patterns in his mind – like the colors of the Huntsman. It seemed only a few seconds but when he looked up, Orlo was already sitting on his porch-step. The Elf wandered over to hear, "Tea is civilized. I would ask you to remember the little things, young Nag Kath."
"Orlo, you mentioned Gelansor. What is that?" Nag Kath just opened a large jar of learning that would take years to explore. He would be very glad he did, primarily because it gave great insight into his own life's work. In the here-and-now it also hurried creeping time in the small compound.
Orlo began, "You are a stranger so I will start before my time. The Easterlings of the south sea are quite different from the north. We were all part of the Balchoth rising, but deserts are different than woods. You see mostly Northmen in the woods." Orlo took a better look at Nag Kath's smooth face and continued, "You are no Northman either, but this may still apply.
"There are many ancient stories of our creation. It was said, some claim written, that great lords of power were imagined to shepherd feeble men, or Elves in their day. They lived in fertile lands of plenty without want. Even then they argued, just like his Excellency and his noble brother, causing ruin and pain.
"But out here, fanciful tales of green lands bearing fruits one can pick at will brought disdain. Legends of these creatures never included drought or watching babies choke on dust. Men of dry lands need their own lords and demons to explain our lot in life. Mind you, I am of Mistrand, which is paradise compared to the sands of Mordor. The dark lord was no friend of rain."
The boatwright drifted into thought. The Elf tried to keep that thread alive wondering, "Can one blame them? It is hard to heap praise on beings that did no better by the subjects here."
Orlo gave him the most curious look and then put his finger on his chin again, "Now, where was I? Oh yes, Gelansor is the three days of the July new-moon when those of us who keep faith light candles through the night and offer prayers that our fields and women may be fertile. Now, your newer adherents sometimes write their own halting script for the occasion." He looked into Nag Kath's eyes for emphasis. "Some of the needed tales have yet to be written." Less intensely; "Older fellows like myself recall the original verses so those spirits can find us. I fear I used my candle already."
"You are welcome to mine, if I have one."
"I have already found offerings in all four of the huts, forgive me."
"Apology accepted."
"Thank you."
Nag Kath probed gently, "It does not seem Frûnzar is a keeper of candles," mentioning the usurper's name for the first time.
"No, he believes in himself, as one who would be Bror must."
"Does he not have supporters that wish for old ways?"
Orlo looked again at Nag Kath's face. His eyes were better than most people his age. The question gave him pause. "Well, if you are here I suppose you know enough to know more. The eastern bank of the Kurnug was where our Balchoth riders held sway; fierce and terrible men who carried the standard.
"They were warriors and favored of Sauron for centuries. They were also the first to die when the orcs of Angbad shriveled like peppers at the Dwarf gate. Such of them as survived were left the worst lands and ate their horses after their children. Your people saw no need to chase enemies east of the sea or demand tribute where none grew. Wainriders, not the first but the renamed, sought seats at council but were denied. So they waited and schemed and finally found the son of a Bror, a son who would heed their petitions.
"Of course, that was not enough. They reordered Those Named to their own purpose but could not replace the Dark One." Orlo changed to a more practical voice, "After centuries of favor by Sauron; that was a large gap to fill. Now, some claim congress with the dark lord's spirit and use that to exhort men to glories only graybeards remember."
The youngster played naïve, "I understand there is a holiday coming based on the Dark Lord's star."
"Oh, so you have heard of that. Yes, a ritual wise men would avoid."
"I am not familiar with that star, my friend. Perhaps we of the west know it by a different name."
"The Evenstar."
The Elf knew which one now. "Oh yes! I have drawn it many times. The Queen of Gondor is named after it; Arwen Undómiel."
Orlo looked shocked for a moment and muttered absently, "Her grandfather." The old boy seemed lost in thought and then saw Nag Kath looking at him intensely. Hoping to cover the lapse, "All queens in lands of men are the daughters of night stars. How else could they shine brightly on their peoples?"
Knowing nothing of eastern religion, the changeling thought it part of their faith and returned to his purpose, "I should think the wise would avoid association with returning dark lords."
"They should! But their lives were better when they were servants of war. Now they are esteemed beneath farmers and peddlers."
Nag Kath pushed his luck, "There were many on the wrong side of history. I hope they do not have the ability to remake new dark lords."
Orlo fixed his eyes on the Elf again, assessing, but in good cheer, "They try, summoning forces from remaining humors. These recent rascals claim powers from earth and sea. My own view is that they would make their livings hiding peas under clam shells in the market if they did not find employment exhorting hungry soldiers! Mordor still has evil spirits remaining. Only someone of right-living could go there to destroy them. But the temptation to fall to their corruption and join them is great. Such a man must be strong and resolute!"
The Elf said thoughtfully, "Yes, I have not been everywhere but it seems most places have folk who claim congress with the dead or powers unavailable to everyday folk in exchange for a few groats. I personally know of an old woman who could take sickness away, though it made her ill in the bargain."
"Houlars! Mistrand has one. She is a crafty old villain but she will heal a fever for coppers." He paused and looked directly into the changeling's eyes, "Some can even speak to others over far distances." He became more subdued, "That is a hard life, young Nag Kath. It wears them to skin and bone."
"I remember the woman being gaunt and in poor humor."
Orlo slapped his knee and chuckled in agreement.
Nag Kath became theatrically serious for his next foray, "There are tales of fell spirits that still live in hollows of old forests. You may not have seen those but there are places as big as this sea to the west filled with old and cunning trees. They are of no better temper."
Orlo seemed lost in memory for another moment then became grave, "Forests, seas, deserts, they all have powers, some smarter than others. I was in the east when Sauron and his servants were slain. That seemed to be the end of all power. It was not – though it rained three years in bounty, so someone took pity on us. I returned home. Fish found their way on deck and we prospered. But until I see my home again, I will make rhub tea and wait patiently."
Orlo smiled and went back inside to say auspices.
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Nag Kath's third morning started exactly like the last after a another night of strange dreams. Was it something in the air? Orlo's tea seemed ordinary rhub leaves, bitter but with some fragrance.
Orlo was already in the garden picking blueberries, now just ripe, and then returned to his porch. The old man's hut faced east. Nag Kath sauntered over and offered him his floppy hat, which the man politely declined before saying, "I do hope the clackers are making progress, young Nag Kath."
"I am sorry, Orlo. What is a clacker?"
"Those who use the counting beads. Wait here." He carefully rose pushing his palm on the rude porch floor and returned holding a small wooden rack. It had eleven wood balls sliding on each of twelve thin swamp-reed rods. Another rack strut was above center with another ball. "You see, here is one." He slid a bead from the top of the rack to the bottom. "Two, three and so forth. When you get to twelve, you move the bead up here and start over."
The Elf said, "We do something like that with marks on a tablet or slate, though it is a count of ten for the change."
Orlo fingered his chin and thought, "I suppose all people must do something." The chin again, "Ten? Five does not divide ... this is much faster. When you push them around they make a clacking sound, like this." He placed them according to his count and showed it to Nag Kath saying, "There, now you can remember." He held it perfectly still in-front of the confused Elf for quite a while. The Elf used a clarity spell on himself to fight-off the sensation. He must be getting sick. Orlo observed him carefully before cautioning, "Clacker is not the preferred title for their earnest labors, should you share wine with one."
Changing the subject, Nag Kath asked, "Is today the end of Gelansor?"
"Sundown. After three nights, men will bed their wives. I remember enjoying that. No spirit ever spoke to me, though. Some are more sensitive to their call. Others pretend favor. I have eaten well and have grandchildren who are smarter than their parents. They will go forth in the world.
"Yesterday's tea is drinkable. Shall we indulge?"
"Thank you Orlo. It seems the Bror does not have many guests if it is just us."
Both inmates scooped the last of the yellow liquid into their mugs. Orlo thought about the Bror's hospitality and said, "This is the best he has. Other places of confinement do not have gardens." Orlo sipped his tea and muttered, "It seems you are favored. The Bror usually lets people confined here leave alive."
"Have you been here before?"
"No, but I know some who have. We are not here for our own transgressions."
Nag Kath wondered how long it would take to investigate his claim. If they had confirmed nothing useful, they would come with swords drawn. Using the 'Fast' he would be armed when he jumped the wall. It would bode better for defenders of Dorwinion if there was no Easterling host. Orlo said, "That is encouraging, young Nag Kath. I hope I will not be made an example to cheating Khans around the sea."
In the first Elf Lord face Orlo had seen, Nag Kath said, "I will need to leave shortly regardless of the outcome. I would be glad to release you as well."
"You are young and optimistic, as we should all be at your age. A man of my years can only return to his life. That would be short and uncomfortable without a favored leaving." He became very grave, "Remember; in leaving, heroes can not always take the straight path." The instruction seemed to echo in the Elf's muddled head.
Nag Kath was fairly sure that whatever path he took would be in a hurry if it came to that. "Thank you, Orlo. I worry that going without the Bror's leave might expose you to fury they cannot use on me."
"You might punch me in the mouth before you go to show I feebly tried to restrain you." The man had a penetrating look of his own, "Come and visit me someday when this business is settled. Ask my name in Mistrand."
"What is the discrepancy between your honored brother-in-law's ledger and His Excellency's?"
"Four Florin and change, far beyond any but a Lord's ability to pay."
They spent some of the afternoon talking too but Orlo went inside before dusk to say his prayers while Nag Kath helped himself to the remaining blueberries.
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He slept late. Orlo did not appear at his usual time. The Elf washed his face and then knocked on the elder's door at about noon. With no answer he peered inside and the hut was empty. Hopefully the old boy's relatives made good on their debt and the man was returned to his dirty river.
That started another eight days of absolutely nothing. Time seemed to crawl by at times yet went quickly at others. The changeling continued to sleep but only drank water, Orlo having taken his tea leaves with him. He was sick of squash and cucumbers. His disorientation lessened but never left. On the twelfth morning in the compound, a soldier appeared at the gate and looked around as if after a long search. Spotting the guest, he approached and said, "The Bror has been looking for you. Where have you been?"
"Here."
The man looked around the compound again and shook his head. "Come with me." Nag Kath collected his satchel and followed the soldier out the gate.
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He was taken to the same dining area before the same Bror who was eating again. The man said, "Sit." Nag Kath did so after bowing. "Much as I hate to admit it, my esteemed brother builds barges on the river. Someone accidentally cut them from their moorings and they floated to the sea where will be found other uses for them." The Bror looked up with sage lordship, "Such things are not wasted in my kingdom.
"Now, we did not find the horses. Prints, yes. Hooves, no. What do you make of that?"
"They are upstream distracting Dale. If I commanded, Lord Bror, I would ford the horses further upriver and ride them down to secure the barge landing in stealth. They would have to discourage merchants they found from telling tales."
"I agree. You seem uncannily knowledgeable for one of tender years."
"Not so tender, My Lord."
"Perhaps."
Nag Kath said respectfully, "If I may be so bold; this is a good time to let your friends in Gondor know that any incursion on that soil is not of your making."
"Again, we agree. My fellow Lord Kings, friends in western lands, need not be concerned that the rightful Bror of Rhûn is, as you said, a thorn in the toe."
Nag Kath chose his words carefully, "They may also be impressed that the rightful Bror has been the steel anvil for the hammer of friendship."
"That gives you seven days to share such glad tidings, Nag Kath. Much as I would keep that horse as a gift from your people, you will need him."
"Kingly acts deserve kingly praise, Lord Bror. Forgive my impertinence but I would like to make amends for certain tax irregularities by the Khan of Mistrand."
The Bror stiffened a little and growled, "The weasel is light …" he adjusted his estimate "… two Florin! I would not be Bror long were it known I condone such larceny!"
That was cheaper than Orlo thought, "I should think two Florin a bargain for such gracious hospitality. I will settle the bill with my own funds after your Excellency has dismissed me."
Bror Dulgov was gracious, "It is the custom of our peoples that others may pay the debts of friends and family honorably. Your offer is accepted."
"If I may ask, My Lord, I am curious if your inquiries found any who claim congress with dead dark lords." He recalled Orlo's contention that there were dark ones still in the bowels of Mordor. "My superiors would like to discourage that."
"As it happens, Mr. Kath, our fellows did speak with one such. Two houdg (troopers) will conduct you to him, or what is left of him. I will instruct the commander to share his findings." He nodded to a senior guard. "Please also take these letters to my friends in the west. I have not been as good a correspondent as I will be. Safe travels, young man."
Nag Kath bowed and was walked out to Charlo.
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It took three hard days to reach the barge site but it was only a few hours from his ford on the Celduin. The Bror's main army must have been keeping between the rebels and capital to get here this fast. Hoof prints went north from the camp.
Nag Kath's escort presented a sealed letter from the Bror's scribe to the sentries who passed it unopened to a Lieutenant charged with burning bodies with barge-wood. He looked at it and said, "You are just in time." He pulled his head summoning a large, swarthy warrior armed with a whip and axe. In Rhunish he ordered, "Telugh, this man is authorized to ask questions of the dark Visitor. Fiel may be of use. Take both."
The Visitor was in a tent pitched well away from the headquarters, tied to a post, sitting in his own ordure. The inquisitor Fiel did not fit the usual description of a grim torturer. He seemed an ordinary soldier. Nag Kath looked in the flap first and asked him in Westron, "Has he shared anything useful?"
"Nay. He raises the blood of fighters."
"Anything about sorcery?"
"He called it down on us for our blasphemy. Haven't seen any yet."
Nag Kath nodded and went inside alone.
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The Visitor was a man of about thirty. He had been handsome. Lips were stuck together with dried blood so Nag Kath went back out for his canteen and a rag before returning to crouch beside the figure. The prisoner was motionless but alert. Nag Kath wet the cloth to wipe the man's face and then slowly dribbled water in his mouth. Laying the canteen in plain view he began, "You are a Visitor of the Dark One, yes?"
The man looked at him with disgust and spat the precious water on Nag Kath's hand. The Elf had no experience extracting information by force and this fellow was now beyond inducement through pain. The threat of death was welcome. Nag Kath gave him a longer drink, sure that Fiel had teased him with the same or played the kindly gaoler for sympathy. Nag Kath only needed him able to move his tongue.
As with the two advance men in the alley, a pale pulse of energy left the Elf's hand towards the prisoner's face. The Visitor blinked. Nag Kath said softly, "I am sorry for your misfortune. I come from those we honor. Were there many men here?"
The man tried to resist, possibly magical resistance, but then he swallowed for the first time in a day and rasped, "Horsemen and soldiers. Building, waiting."
"Yes, they do the work that is needed. When did the horsemen leave?"
The man was fighting blood oaths in training to resist unbelievers. Another pulse of yellow confusion shook him and his eyes calmed. "Before the pig troops reached us. I have not seen the sun to tell."
"Good, then they are away from the corrupt Bror. Rightful Bror Frûnzar is safe?"
The man nodded which earned him another drink. Nag Kath said in an other-worldly voice, "Dooshs kum dellor khazûn fuul." It had no effect. He tried again in Westron, "The Dark Lord honors the faithful."
The prisoner made a bare smile. Nag Kath asked him, "How may I praise your men to him?"
That hit a nerve but Nag Kath's spell was too strong, "Summon him," licking his lips, "summon him from the glyph."
"The pig soldiers may have already desecrated it."
"Rock … fifth rock from pit. He calls to us. Defend … claim …"
.
Nag Kath stalked out of the tent and said to the sentry, "No one goes in." He made his way over to the saw pit on the bank and relieved himself. Pretending to drop something, he came back up holding a flat stone about three by five inches with crude runes carved into one side. The Elf made a show of checking his trouser buttons and walked back to the hulking guard outside the tent saying, "I have what I need."
.
_~ / ~ / ~ / ~ / ~-_
.
Nag Kath ran Charlo hard enough to reach the lower ford before dark with enough energy left to swim across. It took another hour in twilight to make Riavod which gave the magnificent horse a chance to catch his breath. Nag Kath took Charlo to the stable himself, rousting the stable-boy to ensure good care before carrying his bags into the inn. His bag had been searched. The confusion spell on the purse-pouch must have worked. Pausing only for a quick meal and tea, he walked to the provost office and told the sentry to find the Captain. Everyone on duty knew to make double-time as soon as the blonde man showed his face. The sentry unlocked the door to let Nag Kath enter and then left to tell his boss.
That took about twenty minutes so Nag Kath tried wakeful rest. Before discarding the thought, he hoped the Easterlings would give the Visitor a quick end. They are a practical people and would think no more of it than dousing a campfire.
Captain Talfurmir was in full uniform when he sat next to the filthy, wet Elf. "Honestly didn't expect to see you again, Nag Kath. Why don't you talk first."
"Spent two weeks as the Bror's guest. Wasn't so bad, really. Talked quite a bit with an old fellow from the south who told me about how the Balchoth settled the east and weren't rewarded for their pains. That's who's coming. The Bror destroyed the infantry on his land and scattered the barges. Here is where it gets touchy; he did not find his horses. I would not be surprised if they are either upstream waiting to ford or have already done so. Are merchants still arriving from the Dale Road?"
"Got some today. Nobody mentioned two columns of Easterling cavalry."
Nag Kath nodded slowly, "Well, that's something. Any word from the Buhrs?"
"Not yet. If we get an answer, or help, it will come down the same road, and they will look for broken branches. Let me tell you of preparations here: I have the cavalry camped above where you forded. The Rohirrim complained until I reminded them they took the money. Word has been sent to Brilthen, my sister command. They are farmers too but if Easterlings are threatening in force, they know they are next. I don't know Captain Cestlend very well. He's new. The runners are to stay there until he says yes.
"We had a look across the inlet too in case they thought to barge from there. The wind is wrong if they use sails and the current is strong enough to float them in plain sight without oars. That's the Bror's territory. Unless he is acting the innocent, his brother will get no quarter there. Our friends visiting family on the east bank are always watching."
Talfurmir worked down his list, "I've got twenty horse reminding the militia that training started yesterday. They don't like leaving their grapes. Those men are forming up now."
Nag Kath nodded and said, "You do your esteemed brother proud. I could not ask for more. In the morning, let us go upriver and look for the pinch if cavalry is coming this way. Of your infantry, how many are archers?"
"Not many. Fifty or sixty, but they're good with longbows. Cestlend should bring more. In our favor, if those horses have to swim the river, they won't be armored."
"Then I won't keep you, Captain. Get some sleep and we'll see about slowing them down in the morning. They might not even know their foot soldiers aren't coming." Nag Kath smiled for the first time, "I have some surprises for them either way."
"Kath of the Water, when we have time for ale, I want to hear this story. I hope it is told for a hundred years."