During the late watches, the gates of Bree are often closed, except during special occasions such as seasonal festivals or other unusual celebratory events. As Cutch rode up to the South Gate, it was open and well-lit. The attending Watchers were in their best polished armor, weapons gleaming on their hips, and beards neatly trimmed. Apparently, the King’s envoys had arrived and were still in town; Cutch smiled at the circumstances that resulted in his son, Ardanion, being among them.
Ardanion was barely of age when he’d decided the life he wanted; to be a scholar like his mother and find a position at the Library of Saphadzîr in Dol Amroth. Travel and adventure with his father and Captain Teahesto led him to this destination, and when the librarians discovered the young man’s mother was an Immortal his position was assured. She had taught him well and through his skills he soon became a valuable member of the ‘catalogue’. After The War, the new king wished to spread Gondor’s history to all reaches of his renewed kingdom, and Ardanion was chosen to carry out that task in Bree. Cutch had received a letter from Ardanion detailing when he would be arriving, and the formal state of the South Gate suggested that the envoy was here.
From chatting with the Watch who knew him well, Cutch learned the movements of the envoys from their arrival at the South Gate, to their welcoming feast at Hunters Lodge, and to their tour of the town markets. Ardanion remained with the group until he split off to the Scholars Walk, where Cutch assumed his son would arrange his lodgings during his mission in town.
The Archives at the Scholar’s Walk was crammed into rooms ill-suited for a library. The ceilings were too low for loftier bookshelves, the walls too small for the number of bookshelves really needed, and the floors were cramped with tables and chairs for reading scrolls, maps, and books. The windows were few, the air dry and dusty and carried the scents of parchment and leather cases and bindings. Fortunately, the real library discreetly occupied a much larger two-story structure further along the Walk, its foyer appearing more like a vinter’s intimate shop. It was past the foyer that Cutch found his son, sorting through a large stack of books, finding a new home for each on the library shelves.
They quietly and happily embraced, each regarding the other to see what might have changed since their last meeting a year hence. Ardanion could see no change in his father, who appeared as young of face and form as he always did despite his grey hair, which had been described by a certain Elf aunt as Teleri silver. Cutch noted how much his son had matured, his boyish stature now fully mannish and his clean-shaven face still carried the shadow an adult male’s whiskers.
“I hope you can forgive me for not being home to greet you”, Cutch said apologetically.
“I understand Ada. Naneth has been away too long, in my opinion. The Captain was a very welcoming host. He explained you were coming this way. How goes the search?”
They sat at a large library table where Ardanion had placed wine from the foyer. He poured for them both as his father detailed his travels from the Falathlorn, through the Shires and Cardolan, and finally to Bree. Cutch finished by handing his son the scroll he’d discovered in Herne.
“Does she actually have a piece of the Ambossar?”, Ardanion asked as he scanned the scroll and frowned.
“I don’t know for sure, but she is easily resourceful enough to have obtained one, and my instincts say she did. I am told she was headed this way next, so here I am to find whatever clues….”. He stopped speaking, noting his son’s frown turn into a look of horror as he rolled the scroll up and quickly dropped it on the table. He wiped his hands nervously on his librarian’s robe.
“What is it, son?”, Cutch asked.
“Black Speech”, Ardanion grimly answered.
Cutch gaped at his son, unable to formulate another question.
“The Oath was corrupted by … someone”, Ardanion continued. “The consequences of that are…”. Ardanion silently shook his head and shrugged.
Father and son stared at the scroll, their minds racing to decide what to do next.
Previousà Herne Discovery
