Delioron was sitting in a chair, watching the early evening creep across Bree outside of his window. Elwil had left at noon; he had spent the whole day alone in his room.
Solitude didn’t bother Delioron. It was something he knew; a friend, not a foe. Sitting in his room all day with nothing to entertain himself but his thoughts didn’t bother him either, for he was used to it. Waiting, that’s what his work was mostly all about. His thoughts were a lot more stimulating and entertaining company than most people he knew anyhow.
No, what bothered him was being in the midst of a puzzle. He hated puzzled because they could rarely be solved satisfactorily, and what was going on in Bree – what had happened to Hodhion – was very much a mystery he couldn’t easily find answers to. He wished Parthadan would recall him back home and let him leave this puzzle for the Dúnedain to solve, but while he waited for a response he had to try and find out whatever he could. Three or four days, had Greengage said. That meant he couldn’t expect an answer from Parthadan before day after tomorrow the earliest. What should he do next?
As the dawn turned into early evening he decided to go to the common room to have a couple of goblets of wine and eavesdrop on conversations. He would not find out anything sitting alone in his room doing nothing, that much was certain.
When Delioron entered the common room, everyone turned to look at him. He scanned the crowd for familiar faces and found one by a big fireplace in the back of the common room. Navelwort, the hapless burglar, was boasting off to a group of shady-looking characters, more than half-drunk already it seemed. Navelwort’s eyes met with Delioron’s and he seemed to choke in his words mid-sentence, growing pale. Delioron nodded to him and walked over to the bar. On a whim he decided to order a pint of Barliman’s best ale instead of wine – a fact that seemed to delight the barman – pulled himself a chair by the bar and waited.
He didn’t have to wait for long before Navelwort sneaked to the bar next to him in an overtly surreptitious manner and whispered to Delioron from the corner of his mouth as Barliman was servicing other guests:
”I sure hope you wouldn’t come talk to me here at my local.”
”It is you who approached me, not the other way around”, Delioron reminded. ”I have a room here. I fancied a pint.”
”Look, I don’t have anything for you yet. I have been trying to…”
”Still have the half-coins I gave you?”
”Sure, sure. But look, never approach me here, please. Never even look at me here. It’s dangerous enough for me to try to find out the things you wanted me to find out, if my friends see me talking to a stranger they know something’s wrong. I will come to your room tonight if you want to have a chat, alright? A little before closing time?”
”Alright. Knock this time.”
”I seriously thought I’d never see you again, y’know.”
”How so?” Delioron wondered.
”On account of this other Southerner coming to meet me in my house this morning. Startled my wife and kids too, he did! I thought I was going to do business with him in the future, instead of…”
”What other Southerner?”
”That’s what I’d like to know too, sur, for the lot of you! Who are you guys and what do you all want from me?” Navelwort cast a good glance at Delioron, forgetting his secretive act. ”He was even dressed like you, exactly the same kinds of robes, same color and all! You guys all have matching uniforms or something? That’s a bit silly if you ask me.”
”Who was he?”
”How should I know? He told me his name but I already forgot. Some foreign name. Look, I got my pint, so I need to go…”
Delioron grabbed his arm to stop him.
”Who was he? What was his name?”
”Come on, man, let me go! This is embarrassing… it was a foreign name – something like… Delirious? Delirion? Oh wait – Delioron! That’s what he said his name was! Delioron! Dressed the same as you, and had the same foreign accent too.”
Delioron slumped back on his chair and let Navelwort’s arm go.
”I’ll see you in your room tonight, tell you everything about it”, Navelwort continued. ”What’s the matter with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, man!”
Delioron nodded. ”Go. Talk to you tonight.”
Navelwort left, and Delioron finished his pint quickly and stood up. He was afraid now. Something was wrong – terribly wrong. He had to get back to his room. He could hear his own footsteps creaking on the floorboards. His eyes flicked from shadow to shadow as he departed the common room and entered the corridors in the back of the inn. Somebody had blown out the candles.
Delioron. Dressed the same as you.
His eyes scanned the doors as he advanced through the corridor as quickly as possible. That door to his right… was it ajar? The door made a creaking sound as it slowly opened. Delioron stopped to watch it, ready to fight.
There was another creaking sound of floorboard from behind him. Before he could react, an arm wrapped around his neck and he felt a stinging sensation as cold steel pushed through his back, between sixth and seventh rib towards his pulsating heart.
