Chapter 20
The White City
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"Oh, Mr. Kath! You're back! Come in, come in!" Turnlie curtsied to the five people behind him and grinned as they trooped in. There would be even more room for them here than in Dale, probably as much as the ambassador's residence on the sixth. The Daleans were thunderstruck turning the bend and seeing the White Towers spiking to the clouds. Nag Kath's drawings could not compete with the scale.
It would be dinner soon. Loral saw to her Ladyship's things and everyone else saw to theirs. Reyald did not travel with aides, expecting the Ambassador's staff to remain as they were. Once arranged, Loral returned downstairs to help Turnlie with the evening meal. They still had time to market so both women chatted as they left with their baskets. Touching all the people he wanted to see could wait until tomorrow at least.
The servants returned with a man-cart. There was not only dinner but many other things to feed a pair of teenagers for merely a week. Turnlie arranged deliveries of known needs while she was in the stalls. After placing her baskets in the kitchen, she gazed at Nag Kath with a look to suggest they might have a word.
"Tum sent a letter that he saw Mrs. Florice, Mr. Kath. He said she was in a terrible way. That was about three months after you left. He told Mrs. Talereth but I haven't heard since. That doesn't mean there isn't more, but I don't know and I haven't seen her." Turnlie started to cry but soldiered on, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Kath." Tumlen must have said she did not have Helien with her.
"There, there, Turnlie. Don't you worry. Let us just take care of this family and all's well, eh?
The stout cook wiped her eyes with her sleeve and said, "I got chickens for the family and trout for you."
The Conaths took the tour with the Elf guide the next day. They walked the switchbacks, visited parks, had an 'Elvish' lunch on the fourth and started shopping for all of the things they would need for diplomatic life in the world's capital. A little time was spent boarding their horses. The neighborhood stable couldn't take six new ones so three stayed there and the other three were placed at the main stables on the first.
That evening Nag Kath dashed off quick notes to everyone saying he was back, resulting in a rash of appointments here and there. He had better throw a party soon to see everyone!
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Since it was business too, the Elf visited Broughtur and Sylveth Mülto. She had just turned seventy and he was only a couple years behind. The hundred Florin had been almost all invested in business or family rentals on the third level where they lived. Other than a roof falling in after the purchase, the places were rented and cash was coming in. Nag Kath got a list with no plans to inspect them.
From there he walked to the home of Amiedes Tallazh. If he was still with us, the man would eighty-eight in a month. A grown great-grandchild answered the door and recognized him immediately. Tea was on its way before he sat. The woman disappeared down the hall and came back holding the arm of his beloved mentor. They shook hands and he was helped into his favorite chair.
"I did not expect to see you so soon, Nag Kath." The man chortled and coughed a little. "A cold from the spring has been slow to leave."
"I can probably do something for that."
"Oh, would you?" Tallazh offered a frail arm. The Elf gently took it in one hand and placed his other hand on his counselor's chest. Both hands offered the barest silver pulling the faintest yellow. Most men of Middle-earth, to say nothing of their wives, would have blanched at the healing, but the old scholar knew almost everything there was to know about his physician. He coughed a couple more times into a handkerchief produced from a sleeve and said, "Yes, I think that will help."
With mock gravity, Nag Kath pronounced, "That means I will have to visit frequently to finish the work."
Tallazh offered a wan grin, "I will make sure to be here. Now that we have finished …" Both of them gratefully accepted a mug of tea. "… finished with hello, I am sure you are hip-deep in new intrigues. I heard of the battle at the Rhûn."
"That could have gone worse." Nag Kath pulled two papers from his satchel and handed them to Tallazh.
The former scholar took his spectacles from a blouse pocket and muttered, "Yes, I have seen some of these, this one in particular." Amiedes pointed at the same rune the Easterling Minister recalled. "Sometimes they are embroidered in clothing. I saw them in Transagri. That close, they may be of Harad too."
The old man stared off into the room for a moment. "But you are not buying clothes, are you?"
"I traced that off a rock used by one of the Usurper's acolytes. He seemed to think it could summon powers."
Tallazh put on his spectacles back on and studied the sheet more closely. The runes were rough and the tracing rougher. He handed the sheet back saying, "That was Sauron's ground, off and on, for thousands of years. But even dark Lords have to speak in terms folk can understand."
He looked softly into Nag Kath's eyes and said, "I know you must know, but please, Nag Kath, turn aside if you feel drawn to such things. These are probably just symbols reminding men of when they were important."
"I am ever mindful of that, old friend. As it happens, the Usurper's lads are hoping to bring dark sorcery on their side. For now they are floating in the Celduin but I killed a few of their da's back when. I would like to know if there is anything to this."
Tallazh was at peace, "I trust you, dear boy. Remember Mendies?"
"No."
"He was the scholar who brought me to your interrogation."
"Red hat?"
"Yes, he dropped dead twenty years ago, but he had a pupil who dabbled in arcane arts and then earned a lot of money in higher counting, dividing large numbers and such. I do not recall his name but they keep records of who studied under whom. You have influence. Just ask.
The intelligence showed through in the next sheet, "You have been saving the best for last."
Nag Kath handed him the drawing of the dark man in the mirror. Tallazh pulled his spectacles off his forehead and studied it closely. "This does not look like your work. I hope you aren't slipping."
For the first and, hopefully, last time, he had to name the source. It needed impact, "I saw him through the mirror of Galadriel. The image was unclear."
Tallazh looked up at the Elf's face with genuine surprise, or awe, or even a touch of foreboding. Then he absorbed the face again. "He is a bad man, well, not man, a bad Elf I should think. He wears no regalia. Is this someone living?"
Nag Kath shook his head slightly, "I have no idea. There were other faces, all frozen in time. This one stayed with me and I tried to draw him afterwards. You are right. He is not someone to mind the children." Tallazh was tiring. His protégé said, "I will come back in three days and see to that malady. Until then, old friend."
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Reyald was visiting the current ambassador so Nag Kath took Ardatha with him to meet Tal for tea that afternoon. He would be lucky to get a word in edgewise. Talereth was nearing sixty and finally losing the battle with her prodigious appetite. She had always said someday she would have to choose between her face and her bottom. Ardatha was no slip of a girl either. He was sure they would get on famously. And there was nothing either of them couldn't know about him.
Tal kissed both his cheeks and did the same for Ardatha. His step-daughter was not priggish but this told her she would have to adapt to big city customs! Elvish dining was already out of fashion on the fifth level. This place featured small game birds grown like chickens for thrice the price. He had tea. And he was right, the women talked about things for the children, places to go, where to get the right clothes and all else.
Ardatha's mother was his second love. Talereth was his first. Ardatha saw his tastes. They were good tastes. Risking a raw subject, Tal asked, "What news of old friends, Nag?" It was the look after that gave it context.
"I heard Tumlen saw some in Osgiliath, maybe a year ago. I'll be over there shortly."
"Say hello to the dear man for me. Say hello to the bootmaker on the second too. I never seem to get down there anymore." That would be Florice's sister. Did he really want to know? Tumlen first.
Talereth and Ardatha were dear friends for as long as they lived.
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Timalen and Marie got his letter but Tim almost never wrote back. There were probably notes from Nag Kath's first return to Minas Tirith in the middle of stacks piled about the man's studio. Marie kept the third floor as clean as a whistle and poured tea before sitting down. Tim said, "I hope you gave Tal my best. Her daughter is a real artist now, parlayed her water acquaintances and now does family pictures like you used to. I didn't say it but there's a handsome, unsuitable man interested."
Marie said, "Oh Tim, you're terrible. Nag, he's a dear fellow."
"Finished at the river?"
"Oh yeah. Lords over here decided they want busts. Paintings are for commoners. I'm six months behind with a former student roughing the stones. Too messy for here so I hired a shop on the first. You know, Nag, there are some people who oughtn't be remembered forever. Oh, that reminds me, your going to love your statue."
"What?"
Tim chuckled, "My lips are sealed. You'll know when you see it."
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That night dinner was lively. Ardatha had a full-quiver of ideas thanks to Tal's inside knowledge of things to do in upper Minas Tirith. Tal already knew better than half of the ambassador's wives. Ectelliad was fully-retired but still managing his shares. Their son's attitude was better.
Reyald reported that Ambassador Miranad would be quietly relieved to give up his post a little early. He had been a stop-gap appointment when Bard's health began to fail and had business back in Dale. If Reyald could give him two weeks to pack his bags, they could discuss pending matters and wave farewell.
Shurran decided he would be a Scholar! It seemed such an august position. His mother reminded him that his reading and writing needed work so they decided to hire a tutor, hoping to bring him up to city standards. Eniecia was still overawed. The country lass was wide-eyed at teeming Dale. Here was that much more again! Talereth rode to the rescue. There was a girls' reading class on the fifth she would have no trouble joining.
Their new home on the sixth seemed awfully grand to barkers on the first, but to do anything interesting, one had to walk downstairs. Most of the sixth level housed government offices. The residence was slightly north of the prow so at least it wasn't far from the switchback.
Shurran's scholarship reminded Nag Kath of an errand. He appeared early at the archives. This would have seemed an august hall as well but its few window seats were jealously guarded by seniority and sharp elbows. Occasional fires had started when candles in the interior fired ancient pages shuffled in haste.
In Gondor he was still Kath of the Water. The desk clerk greeted him by name and Nag Kath explained his search. Remaldagar had been there thirty years and remembered old Mendies. That helped as he pored over ledgers retrieved from an even darker archive. Only knowing about when the student was engaged meant beetling through half a dozen of the books. Of three possibles, one stood out.
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It was a nice home in a middling neighborhood on the second, the sort of place successful merchants lived when they wanted to stay close to their business. Nag Kath knocked three times. Elf ears heard movement inside but it took a few minutes for someone to slide the peep-hatch open and look up at his face. An aged female voice asked, "Yes?"
"Esteemed Scholars thought Mr. Vientis could consult."
That took a few moments to digest. The face in the port said, "I will ask." The hatch slipped shut and he waited another five minutes until the door swung wide open revealing a middle-aged man with spectacles and the five-inch hair-part favored by academics. He said nothing.
"Good day, Mr. Vientis. I am Nag Kath and wanted some of your time to consult on matters of antiquity."
Making no invitation, the fellow said, "I am long past such lore. Are you sure you have the right man?"
"I assist Mr. Grown." That was a polite way of saying this was official business.
Vientis moved aside and said, "Please come in. I hope Mr. Grown is recovered from his ailments. Mother, I am sure this gentleman would love some of your delicious tea." It was delicious. And it would take a long time to get. The former Scholar led Nag Kath to a very nice studio catching good light most of the day. He motioned for the Elf to be comfortable and sat across the low table.
It was Nag Kath's turn to talk. How much dare he reveal? "One of my oldest friends is Amiedes Tallazh. He remembered one of Mendies' adepts studied lore of the far east."
"Kath … Kath of the Celduin?"
So much for the element of surprise. "Among other places."
Vientis sat back in the cushion. He took a closer look at his visitor's face and said, "I am now a private Scholar of counting, some of it for your water chute, for which I thank you."
The Elf pulled the tracing from his satchel and handed it to the Counter. "Do any of those bring back old times, Mr. Vientis?"
The man set the paper on the table and excused himself to fetch a large round glass circled in silver with a handle. It was a huge version of Nag Kath's fire starting crystal. The finest Mordor glass; it would have cost a stack. He looked closely at all eight markings before laying the sheet and glass on the table.
The Elf asked, "Do you know the meaning of any, Mr. Vientis?"
"Three. Pointing to the one everyone recognized he said, "This is Fûl, the rune of strength. A much altered version of it is used in Harad even still. This one is Granzth, hard for our tongues to say. It means patience. This last one I'm not so certain. I think it is Fïlsh, symbol of lasting or endurance."
"What are these, sir?"
The Counter said, "Now there you get differing opinions. I was taught these are the symbols for eastern godlings, their version of Maiar. Each has a strength or weakness so they are combined for the blessing or curse. There are more than these."
Nag Kath leveled with him, "It could be of great moment that the intention does not come to pass, part of the bother on the river."
"Mr. Kath, may I ask how this concerns Mr. Grown?"
Nag Kath needed this man's help. An obsessed scholar searching for eternal darkness would have abandoned the quest for mere money. Vienties began, "Mr. Gro …" Mother bustled in with a two steaming mugs and nodded before placing them on the table. Both men smiled and thanked her. Nudging; "Mr. Grown's concerns?"
"The unsuccessful Easterling had adherents in his army exhorting men to battle believing this had power. They were carved on a stone that may itself have held power. That stone was crushed. So was the army. Mr. Grown and others want them to stay crushed."
The Elf handed Vientis his card if he thought of anything else.
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Now three days here, the Conath's had more places to visit than time. The man of the house was hardened Thain-kin and his wife was a Princess of Dale so Nag Kath wasn't needed. He saddled Charlo and made for Osgiliath. Men were fiddling with the water spout across the bridge again. They probably always would.
He tied Charlo to the post outside of Tumlen's home and knocked. A short, cheerful young woman opened the door and was about to ask his business when she recognized what must be her new husband's partner. There were not a lot like him. In barely more than a whisper she said, "Tum's at your old headquarters."
He courteously asked, "And who might you be, miss?"
"Missus. Tum is my man. I'm Antille."
"Then I'm sure I will see you again soon. Thank you."
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"Nag Kath, you old rascal! Thought you were off for years."
The Elf shook his head, "I even surprise myself."
"Heard about the fight."
"Has anyone not heard about that?"
Tumlen was philosophical, "No. But the more who know it now, the more will forget in six months.
"I am still trying to shake 'Kath of the Water'."
Tumlen stifled a laugh and snorted out his nose. He recovered quickly and added, "Or Kath of the Wargs!" The young businessman was following Brenen's example of getting broad abeam. What was it about estate agency?
"I met the little woman. Good for you Tum."
"We've been sweet since we were ten. It was time. Business is good. I used the money to buy the Fierven wharf, a couple warehouses and a place across the river. It collapsed in the right spot so we'll put something in its place."
Tumlen lost a little of his buoyancy, "Turnlie tell you I saw her?"
Nag Kath sat down in his usual chair. "She did, a year ago?"
"A year ago August. Almost walked into her by the Great River Inn, of all places. Flor did not recognize me. I am not sure what she recognizes. I'm sorry, Nag. You come back here and all you get is misery. She was filthy and wandering around like she was lost. I tried to keep an eye on her but she went into a tea shop and never came out. I had to get back here so I went in to find her and she was gone."
Tum said the next part slowly, "She didn't have the girl."
"Girl's dead, Tum. So's the fancy man."
Tumlen favored Nag Kath's habit of not making a bad thing worse.
Nag Kath kept on, "I set up a bank draft for her if she ever claims it."
"Want I should talk to her, Nag?"
"You can, but you don't have to. Give her some money if she needs it."
There wasn't much more to say about Florice Kath. To break the pall, Nag Kath asked, "What tidings of the water?"
"It still works well. Dirt under the south sluice caved-in. They shut the gate and rebuilt it. Not much fever, but it was a dry winter so that doesn't signify."
"Tim said I should see something but didn't say what."
Tumlen gave his same snort/laugh. "Let's go."
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According to ancient Gondoran protocol, the master builder of a project was entitled to a statue or relief carving respectfully away from the high Lords. Before he rode north, someone in the government sent him a letter that seemed to say he could put whatever he wanted in the space so he had Tim craft a sculpture of a worker in remembrance of the men killed in the landslide. It was completed after he left.
Administrations being what they are, Osgiliath insisted one of their sculptors complete the dedications on the base of his statue. After they walked past grand Elessar and Faramir, Tumlen made a theatrical arm wave to show the name 'Nag Kath' carved in huge common letters on the pedestal of a life-sized Dunlending holding a shovel.
A man of breeding and stature would have been appalled. The orc started laughing until his sides hurt. He had to sit down. Tum howled through his own tears, "I think he captured you perfect."
Neither of them stopped laughing all the way back to the office.
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Seeing everyone in Osgiliath and taking a ride to the Cascade got the Elf home three days later. No one missed him. He did get a reply from the King the day before asking him to come to the palace two day's hence.
His waking rest was unsettled. He might have to be an Elf another thousand years before things like this got easy. If he had to do something, he could without fear or hesitation. If he didn't, he thought too much. The decision was whether to visit Flor's sister Ernielle. He liked the woman and would have no problems wishing her well. But he wasn't sure he wanted to know what happened to Florice. In the end he decided he was immortal and would get over it.
Ernielle's husband Waldor was a cobbler with two journeymen and an apprentice, so they did well. His shop was on the second, north of the prow. Nag Kath walked down and knocked on the door of the home above the leather works. Waldor came out from the shop and looked at the visitor. On this level, he watched that sort of thing. When Nag Kath came over to the rail the cobbler shouted, "Hello Nag Kath. Ernielle should be back any minute." He climbed the stairs slowly and unlocked the door.
Nag Kath had not been here before. It was a comfortable home and showed the signs of two well-loved children bumping and chasing through the furniture. Waldor hung his stout apron on a peg by the door and said, "Always got cold tea."
"Thank you, Waldor. I need moisture for this."
It was hard to tell the man's expressions through a moustache that covered his whole face but it seemed thoughtful. Waldor brought two mugs and sat in one of the four chairs around a small eating table. Nag Kath sat next to him. Neither said anything. This was Ernielle's conversation. It was more like ten minutes but she opened the door and closed it without noticing either of the men. When she turned with her basket she stopped a moment before silently setting it by the basin and getting a mug of her own.
"Hullo, Nag. Been a while."
"I went north."
"We heard. You're famous again."
"I never get used to that."
Ernielle drank about half of her mug. "What have you heard?"
"My man in Osgiliath said he saw her last summer. I wanted to see both of you too. You always treated me fair."
Waldor said, "Thank you."
Ernielle wrung her hands like she was shuffling a deck of cards, "She came here in May. The baby died. I suppose you know that. This time she was in clean clothes. She said she might stay a while and I wanted to believe her but she got on the ferry two weeks later and I haven't heard since."
Nag Kath said, "How is she getting on?"
"She don't say so I don't ask. Figure she has a man. She always has the wrong man." Ernielle realized what she said and started to cry, "I didn't mean you, Nag. Not you. You were so good to her."
"I divorced her before I went to Dale. She is free to do what she wants. There is a small monthly income for her at the Royal Bank if she goes in and signs for it. That's whether I am here or not. Would you tell her if you see her?"
That was impossible largess for working folk on the second. She left behind his back and he still would give her money? They knew the child wasn't his but didn't care. Both of them wanted a baby and she did what she had to.
Waldor said, "We'll tell her if she ever comes back. She was in Pelargir. Don't know now."
Nag Kath said, "This doesn't change things with us. You are friends and welcome in my home. I've got my first family with me now so there's always tea, maybe something stronger after work."
As he rose Ernielle asked, "If she shows, should she come see you?"
The Elf stood stock still and finally said, "Yes. Yes, I'd like to know she is all right."
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"The King will see you now, Lord Kath."
He rose and was ushered into Elessar's office. The King had not arrived so the attendant had him take a seat and posted a guard by the door. Not everything in this room was for public viewing. Aragorn came in half a bell later and accepted the Elf's bow before shaking hands and sitting next to him. His Lordship said, "We have been much on the road. Maybe next year we can take our ease."
"True, My Lord, but the road is so safe with fluffy beds, it is almost like taking home with us."
Aragorn grinned, "I still take the shortcuts. Now, I received your request, what news?"
"I found a former Scholar with his own business able to make sense of the runes. He will quietly rummage the files and let me know what he finds. I apologize, Sire. My main purpose is more for your Lady Wife." Nag Kath took the mirror's image from his folio and handed it to Aragorn, saying nothing but watching the man's eyes closely.
The King earnestly said, "Yes, this is more of her people than mine. Not a merry fellow; this. Should I know him?"
"I doubt it, Sire. He may belong to the ages."
Aragorn got the sense that he should see if Arwen was available. He took the picture with him. It was another bell before the royal couple returned. Nag Kath rose and bowed again and was seated as they took their places.
Arwen started, "I did not recognize this figure either, Nag Kath. It seems less defined than your other work."
"My Lady, it is an image taken from your grandmother's mirror in Lorien."
He had the couple's full attention. Arwen's initial reaction was to ask him how he entered Caras Galadhon and left alive. She knew better. Elves who had not seen him emerge from the dungeon would see him as he is now.
"Tell me of your visit."
"It took me some time to find the entrance off the Celebrant. When I entered, I was challenged and escorted by two Silvan ohtars to their leader, a fellow named Gilfandros. I told him I was only there briefly, thinking I might never get another chance. Once they knew my purpose, I was completely ignored. I made some sketches with plans not to leave my family waiting long at the inn."
The Rulers of Gondor were stone silent. The Elf continued, "Logass the keeper approached me. He and his wife are the only of their kind there and wondering why since the place bustles with Elves. He is a gruff creature but inoffensive. He asked me of my healing and I said I had not made the progress I had hoped. Since he knew me to be a sorcerer of water, he took me to the mirror. We had to clean and fill it. It took some time to respond but then I saw a series of faces. They were lifeless, as if I had painted them. Four or five came and went before this one who lingered. I saw a fist splash in water and the mirror surrendered no more secrets."
She asked gently, "Do the other Elves use it?"
"Logass said they could not, My Queen."
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Arwen knew it took power to drive the mirror. Nag Kath had gained in strength. His experience was more like her own than her grandmother's who saw images in motion. How skilled was this creature? How powerful would he become? He had matured.
Arwen wondered, "Did you learn of healing?"
"No, My Lady, just the faces. Some I thought I recognized at first but never did put names to them. This man, if man he is, seemed to be looking behind me. He chills the blood. My question for you, Lady Arwen, is if Elvish peoples kept portraits or paintings." I earned a living drawing them for weddings and such. If art exists, it may offer clues."
She said, "For a time yes, but most were destroyed long ago in the calamity of Elvish wars or fire drakes."
Aragorn asked, "What will you do next? I have no great quests for you."
"I will stay the winter, Your Highnesses. Reyald and Ardatha are settling-in and it will be nice to spend time with my younger grandchildren. I do not know them well. Come spring, I may return to the Rhûn. Something tells me we have allies there, long hidden allies who have taken the measure of darkness."
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Queen Arwen Undómiel sat like a statue after the changeling was shown out. Elessar watched her closely. Moving only her mouth she asked, "Are you still sure?"
"Yes, my love. Though it is more my faith than reason."
"I have no faith in remade orcs." She looked up, "He treads in dark waters. He gains in power. I have long feared this. How much is too much? At what point will he be beyond our control?"
Aragorn was about to answer when the last of the Ñoldorin in Middle-earth said through her teeth, "Please, husband, do not let him wreck Sauron's vengeance on our Fourth Age."
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Reyald presented himself as the representative of the Court of Dale in early October and the family moved to the sixth. They tried to eat with Uncle Nag once a week. The children were adapting, even shy Eniecia was making friends in her reading circle.
It seemed very quiet in the home now. Turnlie still sang and hummed to herself and he was glad of her. She had friends who had permission to visit when he was in Dale and he still allowed that, though while the Conaths were here there wasn't much time. There was still the unfinished first floor with its buried secrets.
Nag Kath had not heard, nor did he expect to hear, from Ernielle. His offer of friendship was earnest but they had nothing in common now and there would always be pain. He saw Tal and Ecc. He laughed with Tim asking of the Dunnish inspiration for the statue. The sculptor still had the inscription, 'in honor of those lost' in the warehouse. Nag Kath could complain but Tum was right, it caught him perfectly. He did not want to be famous.
Mr. Tallazh was feeling much better after three healings and even watered some of the herbs in his little garden. Nag Kath continued to see him twice a week whenever he was in Minas Tirith.
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Two weeks after his visit, he got a note from Scholar Vientis asking him to stop-by the next day at the five-bell. Nag Kath presented himself but was still inspected from the peep-door before admittance. There seemed no other people around even though the old woman could not have kept the home up by herself. He was shown to the airy office where the Scholar offered him the same seat.
"I was not expecting to enjoy the work as much as I did, Mr. Kath. It took longer because there was more there than I thought and because the archives were near a popular section on Elvish languages. Now that the Elves are gone, men's hearts grow fonder."
Nag Kath might not be considered an Elf so he took no offense. "Thank you. Was there any other interest in ancient runes?"
The Scholar said, "Everything had been restacked and cleaned perhaps ten years ago but these had as much new dust as the rest. I didn't feel any eyes looking over my shoulder."
When Nag Kath waited patiently, Vientis opened a small folio sitting on the table and turned it right-side-up for his guest. Then he pulled away the top sheet of paper. "This is a list of every symbol I could find of the same time as the ones you brought. Five of your eight are included along with six that were not.
"All this assumes that I was taught right and these represent immortals known by those qualities and defects. Now, and this is material, the sequence of the symbols matters. Ancient men of this far land ordered them to stress some qualities and mitigate others. Think of it as a recipe.
Nag Kath said, "With three missing it will be hard to learn the desired effect."
The Scholar said, "It is worse than that. I do not know how to interpret how each counteracts the others or even which direction to read them. What I have are the symbols, the immortal they represent and what little is known of their character. With the five of yours and six more I have six males and five females. The only new names I could ferret-put were; Telloch, Ulorö, Mastach and Mastagl … these four here. If they are based on our teachings, you should have seven of each sex."
This was interesting but did not get Nag Kath much closer to his purpose. "Mr. Vientis, did you uncover anything to suggest Sauron had a part in this?"
"No, but remember he could, or it was claimed he could, change at need. If he insinuated himself into these beliefs, it would accomplish the same goal. Also consider the servants; the Nazgûl. It was they who actually tyrannized the land. By accounts, the Dark Lord seldom traveled."
Nag Kath gave that long pause, "Servants …? I had not considered that."
"Oh yes. The nine. We think of them as riders of the dragons but they were in sinister employ for long years, many while Sauron was building his strength in secret. Terrible rulers and wizards; they were." Vientis took a breath for; "I say this with dire caution. The symbol Fûl you found … I believe that is the sigil of the Witch-King of Angmar."
Both exhaled at the same time. The Elf stood by bracing his hands on his knees and gathering himself. "Thank you, Scholar Vientis. Every piece helps."
The bald scholar blinked and offered, "Then there were the wind-speakers. Have you heard of them?"
"Not a peep."
"It was said that servants of the dark lord could speak over great distances throughout Harad. It was they who organized the human hosts he brought to the Pelennor and the Black Gate. They disappeared after the war without a trace – perhaps to the same end as the rest."
Let us hope so, Mr. Vientis. Now, have you considered your compensation?"
"Tell me where this leads."
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_~ / ~ / ~ / ~ / ~-_
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Nag Kath wasn't sure he wanted to host a Syndolan Eve party this year. At the end of October he had a banquet in Osgiliath with friends from the water crew. Most were found and largely landed on their feet either with positions maintaining the line or, like Mr. Sepulvath, helping others bring water into businesses and homes. He especially enjoyed seeing Fanos Talfurmir and recalling stories of his brave brother on the river. They closed the tavern with many tales left for the next time.
Now, what about the holiday? It bothered him was he had no Neurae or Lady Hostess. That still hurt. Ardatha would be a perfect replacement but this being Reyald's first season; the Conath's needed to attend the King's competing party. And he was scandalously short of Hobbits and Dwarves. In the end, he decided that planning was better than moping so he hired Mr. Gerandis to organize things and made his guest list.
In an experimental and mildly dangerous side-project, Nag Kath contacted the man who did the King's fireworks. Aragorn should have brought a trove of the best fire-powders from Orthanc in time for last year's festivities but no one seemed to remember them.
Rubend Doroust was what Nag Kath would have imagined if someone hired him to paint a Scholar/bricklayer. Doroust heard of the rockets fired over charging Lings at the river along with everyone else so he gladly agreed to meet. His workshop was on the second level, less than a hundred paces from the cobbler. The man made all sorts of mechanical devices and tools by special order. Failed projects were three-deep on wall pegs waiting for something else that could use the parts. Nag Kath was glad the little portion of the large shop reserved for fireworks had no weed-pipes or stoves.
"Pleasure to meet you Lord Kath."
"Just Nag Kath."
"Still a pleasure. You simply must tell me about those river rockets."
"Those were fairly easy. You just have to pack the tube tightly enough so it can only burn on one end. Too loose and it all goes at once. Shape the tip like an arrowhead to fly true and don't stand too close."
"That's how I do it! Try mixing a shot of strong barley spirits with the powder so it sticks together when you stuff the tube." When they got to ingredients the man admitted, "To be honest, Mister … Nag Kath, I just hate making the powder. Composting chicken dougsh and cow pee together aren't how I like to spend my day." Nag Kath pressed him slightly on the process. Considering the filthy pod pits in Orthanc, it was no wonder that Saruman had enough waste to blow a hole in the Deeping Wall.
Doroust had not mentioned receiving Gandalf's powders. If the King had other plans for them, it wasn't Nag Kath's place to mention it. He gave the inventor a supply of his own and showed him how to wrap spoonfuls in paper like dear Belfalas' meat pies and put them in the sharp end of the rocket to explode in different colors.
Now, where would he shoot his? Doroust could fire them off the prow with little risk. If Nag Kath shot his off the fourth, they might land on the fifth. Perhaps the Osgiliath bridge? Nearly incinerating the Dale wharf was a concern until the soldier shooting them from the jetty admitted he hadn't secured the rocket and it fell over as he lit the fuse.
The King's rocketeer added, "You are a wondering sort. Have you worked with lodestones?"
"Just holding them under parchment to move spoons."
"Hughmm, there's more than that. If you have time, come this way."
Doroust had his shop laid-out with different tables for different disciplines unlike Gandalf who dumped everything on the same desk. They walked a few feet over to a clay bowl holding an inch of water. "If I put a nail against a loadstone for a week and push it through a little wooden raft, it points to the prow, does it every time."
That seemed interesting. Nag Kath looked at the nail as it wobbled unsteadily, gradually reducing the drift until it floated with the tip towards the yarn market. As he thought, the image of Orlo's tea leaves flashed in his mind, unbidden, and was gone in a blink. This time he remembered it. The Elf recovered his wits and asked the inventor to keep him abreast of his inquiries. He walked out of the shop with a head full of questions.
.
That was a message. But how? The old man in gaol as hostage for a thieving in-law? Perhaps, but if the Rhûnic counsellor told truth, and he had no reason not to, the Khan's family was not as described. Why the leaves?
Nag Kath decided he needed to discover that mystery, see where it led.
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_~ / ~ / ~ / ~ / ~-_
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Syndolan arrived! Nag Kath needn't have worried. The house was packed. There were five musicians this time including a young woman with a beautiful voice. Everyone sang Syndolan songs until they sang tavern songs. To the Elf's surprise, there were a few Catanales, solo Catanard songs, too.
Tall and Ecc came just in time to see Nag Kath's fireworks fired from the Anduin on the eight-bell with Shurran and Eniecia in tow. Tumlen arranged for a boatman to shoot them while floating through the city. They wouldn't compare to the show in an hour from the prow but locals in Osgiliath lined the banks in their hundreds to watch. Nothing burned down.
Ectilliad was still a distinguished man. With Tal on his arm they were a fine couple. Her hair was now almost completely white. Having just looked at the picture he drew of her thirty-some years ago, he thought she had aged very well. Teldamir came with his wife. He hadn't made the Osgiliath banquet so it was good to know he was well.
At the ten-bell people started trickling out for the walk or cart ride home. It was a pleasant night so after seeing Mr. Xhandar and his daughter to the door, Nag Kath sat on the porch bench and watched the stars. A minute later Tal sat next to him while Ecc talked to the Youndors and collecting the kids. "Good party, Nag. They always are."
"Thanks, Tal. I almost didn't have one this year. A lot of water has flowed down my river since the last."
She said softly, "I know. Do you miss her?"
"And the baby."
Tal murmured, "And the baby." In a stronger voice, "I have just the girl for you. Almost brought her."
"Oh no you don't."
"You have no choice, Elf. Old ladies need hobbies and that is one of my favorites."
"It is likely I will be doing something dangerous come spring, might be gone a long time."
"Can you tell me?"
"No. I am not even sure why. I can't tell anyone, let alone a lady love."
Tal stated unconvincingly, "I'll abstain. It won't be long before Ardatha has to chase the boys away from Eniecia."
"I noticed. Is she making friends?"
"Yes. She is still quiet, like you. She doesn't say something just to fill the silence."
"She got Eniece's looks, even more of Eniece's mother. Granna Borenne is eighty one and still striking. I do not know how those delicate features survive hulking Northmen … Dúnedain, maybe. Going by the statue in Dale, Ardatha looks more like her da with enough of Eniece to not have a Dwarf nose."
Ecc appeared at the door with their charges. Tal kissed Nag Kath's cheek as she rose and said softly, "You must take better care of yourself, here and in the wild. We cannot follow you, but we can love you in our time." She winked and took her husband's arm up the path.