Minas Tirith was struggling with the dull travails of early spring. The sky was gloomy and blotched with vertical dark clouds. The wind was warm. The Pelennor Fields surrounding Minas Tirith were wet and boggy.
The Blue Theatre of Minas Tirith to the south of the Fourth Circle was wreathed in every shade of blue imaginable. Blue was the perfect color for the gloomy atmosphere of the season and the city, thought Delioron, who was sitting in the dark and shadowy balcony in the almost empty theatre. He did not have to wait long before a short and thickset figure with long grey hair sat to the chair next to him.
”One hell of a present you have brought us”, Parthadan said. ”A spy from Mordor! Did I not specifically tell you not to bring him to Gondor? Your instructions were to interrogate and dispose of him, not bring him here. And what did you tell King Théoden?”
”As much as I had to. Are we not supposed to be allies with our fair-haired, horse-breeding neighbors to the north?” Delioron said in his flat, monotone voice, mocking Parthadan.
”Damn you, Delioron! You have put me in a mess.”
”That is something you do not experience often”, Delioron admitted. ”Welcome to the club!”
”Tarîkbên is causing some difficulties for us.”
”I assumed he would.”
”The problem is Glunri, the advisor in the dwarven outpost.”
”What does Denethor say?”
”Denethor is furious and he is taking it out on me. He is furious at you.”
”Denethor can go jump in the lake for all I care. How about the other thing I asked? My retirement?”
”Of course. It can be arranged… if you are still serious about it?”
”Were you expecting me to change my mind?”
I was, Parthadan thought. He had been counting on it. In spite of Delioron’s dangerous nature Parthadan had hoped for two years that he could use Delioron somewhere closer to Gondor where men of his ilk were desperately needed, but Denethor’s loathing for Parthadan’s ”rogues and cutthroats” had never abated. The Steward could not see what Parthadan saw all too clearly: Gondor had grown too old, weak and declined, a mere shadow of its former glory. The kingdom could not survive relying on its old virtues of bravery, loyalty and resilience alone anymore. As the enemy in the east grew each year in might and power and threatened to engulf the world in its shadow, Gondor desperately needed men like Delioron, men who did not hesitate to lie, steal and kill, turning the tactics of the enemy against itself. If Parthadan ever had to admit it to anyone, he would have said that Gondor could not afford to lose Delioron.
”And this dwarf traitor, Krarli. Why did you just let him go? You must have completely lost your senses while wintering at Amon Hen.”
”Get stuffed, Parthadan! Listen: This is all your fault. There was no real need to send me over there for the whole winter. You could have just ignored Tarîkbên’s letter as you well knew it was nothing but a trap. But no, you had to play the fisherman and use me as bait, you had to find out what Sauron was up to. Well, now the trap has sprung and I was not in it. We have directed the trap towards Mordor instead and you cannot stand success.”
”But there is the problem with Glunri”, Parthadan insisted.
”What about Glunri? The dwarf Deli has taken care of Glunri. He has told Lord Naíf everything about Glunri. The dwarves have executed him, or thrown him in a dungeon to rot.”
”But what if they have not? Do we know it for sure? We cannot afford to have a traitor, a servant of Mordor, whispering in the ear of a Lord of a dwarven outpost on Gondor’s doorstep.”
”And why not?” Delioron asked. ”I fail to see how that is of any concern to Gondor.”
”I’m afraid it is. I’m afraid we have to make sure that… justice… will be served. And you have to help us in that.”
”And do what?”
There was a pause. Parthadan started to chew on his left thumbnail. ”You have to travel to Zigil-jâbal.”
”I do not even know where it is.”
”No, but we know it is somewhere near Edoras. I am sure a man with your capabilities can track it down in no time. You know that dwarf there, Deli. Go there to make sure justice has been served.”
”And what if it’s not?”
”Well… perhaps Glunri can have an accident? Food poisoning? I really do not need to know the details, only that…”
”I will not kill anyone on your say so, Parthadan.”
”I’m afraid you have to. That is, if you want to retire. And if you want your lady friend to be safe.” Parthadan’s voice was just as cold as Delioron’s. Two freezing storms met each other in a dark, starless night over the Icebay of Forochel, far away from all comforting warmth.
Delioron accepted the threat Parthadan had just expressed in plain words. He had nothing to add to it. He waited.
”Delioron, this mess is yours to clean up for the simple reason that you are already in it up to your neck. You have caused a diplomatic incident between us and Rohan, but this time you have fallen into the hole you dug for yourself. You want to go home with your lady friend and you want to be forgiven and forgotten. All right then, I am willing to let you go, but not before you have done this one last favor for me.”
”And if I do kill him, you will have something concrete on me”, Delioron said. ”Something to keep me in line for the next five or ten years. Do you not understand why I will not do it? Then I would never be rid of you.”
”You have killed before.”
”I have, but never on orders. I have killed as a matter of duty and survival”, Delioron said.
”This is a duty, because it is an order…”
”Do not be stupid, Parthadan! You cannot order me to kill anyone in cold blood without a proper trial. That would be against Gondor’s law. You are simply asking me to commit a murder and if it suits you, you will remind me of it the next time you need my services. It will not happen, Parthadan.”
”All right then. So you want something from me but will not give anything in return.”
”We will go back to the way things were”, Delioron said. ”I can see now that you will never let me go.”
Parthadan smiled internally. It was exactly the outcome he had wanted. Delioron was right: What happened with the dwarves in Zigil-jâbal was not Gondor’s concern. The last thing Parthadan wanted was for Delioron to travel to Zigil-jâbal and perhaps cause another incident with the dwarves. And he would never have had a civilian, an innocent citizen of Gondor murdered either. The thought alone was preposterous. But of course Delioron, who had served as the guilty conscience of Gondor for so long and committed so many wicked deeds in Gondor’s name, had lost all faith in any human decency whatsoever and had no doubt in his mind that Parthadan would do exactly that just to keep him in line. So he had bought Parthadan’s lies, and that was exactly what he had wanted him to do.
”Marvellous, marvellous! See, you could not leave us after all! Not before I am ready to let you go.”
There was a dreary silence. When Delioron spoke again, there was a hollow weariness in his voice. ”And Radawen?”
”Oh, she will be fine.” Parthadan chuckled. ”You can go for a little vacation now that this business has been concluded, so you can ’pay court’ to your lady friend, or however you would prefer to call it.”
”You are a worthless scoundrel, Parthadan!”
Parthadan’s face grew pale. ”And you are nothing but a pawn, Delioron. You will obey orders just like everyone else. You will march when I tell you to march, you will sit and do nothing when I want you to do nothing. And when I have sucked you dry and have no more use for you I will throw you out with the garbage.”
”All right then”, Delioron said in a menacing voice that cut like a shard of ice. ”You have your game and I have mine, but the game is not over yet.”
”Damn it, Delioron, we are on the same side!” Parthadan said fiercely.
”Are we now?” Delioron said in a voice as cold as an ice field. ”When you are standing in the middle, all sides start to look the same after a while.”
