Evening had already fallen and wrapped Bree in a cloak of starry darkness by the time Delioron and Elwil arrived at Greengage’s farm. It was late autumn and the trees had already dropped most of their leaves. The season of colorful fall foliage was over and everything was brown and wet and dead. Chilly breeze from the north carried a frigid promise of coming winter in the air. Delioron had told Elwil they would be made to wait. Parthadan’s reply to his report should have arrived by now.
Delioron pounded on the sturdy wooden door and waited. A minute passed by before he pounded on the door again.
”Perhaps there’s no one home”, Elwil said right before the door opened. It was the same middle-aged woman with a surly face Delioron remembered from his last visit. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t make any gestures for them to step inside. She just kept staring at Elwil like she would a stain on the floor.
”She is alright”, Delioron said. ”I’ll vouch for her.”
The woman glared at Elwil for a few moments longer, then pushed the door open and waved them inside. The woman showed them to the kitchen and retreated to the back of the house, exactly like the last time.
Elwil sat at the kitchen table, Delioron stood protectively in front of her as they waited in silence for what felt like a long time before Greengage arrived from the back. The pigeon-handler had still the same cheerful smile plastered on his pasty face, the same bulbous nose and red-rimmed eyes over his thick handle-bar mustache; the same smell of stale ale in his breath. Delioron noted that Greengage was carrying a large knife on his belt.
”Delioron!” Greengage greeted with his effusive manner, throwing glances between Delioron and Elwil. ”And… you bring another guest to his house! How exciting! How… unexpected. But let’s all go to the living room! I am sure you have lots to tell me, as do I to you!”
They all went to the room with the big fireplace. Delioron noticed that the furnishing of the room had been supplemented with a third chair for Elwil to sit on. Greengage motioned them to sit down. Delioron made no move, and neither did Elwil.
”Is something wrong?” Greengage asked.
”Yes”, said Delioron. ”I was sent here to be killed, Greengage. To frame me a murderer and then have me killed. That’s what’s wrong, Greengage.”
Greengage just stared at him for a long moment, mouth agape. There was no sign of guilt or nervousness in his expression, only surprise and confusion that seemed genuine.
”Delioron.” Greengage choked on the word; two seconds later came the realization of what Delioron’s words would mean for Greengage. ”If that’s true, then what did you come here for?”
”To find out if it’s true.”
”Dammit, it’s not! I have no idea what you’re talking about. The only interesting thing I’ve heard since your last visit was the assault on the hobbit Paladin yesterday morning in Staddle. And Parthadan’s reply came this morning.”
Delioron frowned. Hobbits again. ”What hobbit?”
”Paladin Took. An important member of the prestigious Took family from the Shire, next in line for the Thainship after Ferumbras, visiting relatives in Bree-Land. The one you told me about. He was attacked yesterday morning in Staddle by Roddy Twinspur, a known thug. Twinspur was killed by a guard of the Bree Watch trying to arrest him, but Paladin survived the attack unscathed. He and his family moved on to Archet. That’s what you told about in your last report to Parthadan, right? About the planned kidnapping of Paladin by the ruffians of Bree? Though the way the attack was executed, it looks more like Twinspur’s goal was bloody murder. But I’m telling you again, there is no scheme to have you killed here in Bree! It’s absurd, just think about it!”
”I have, and I believe you. I have much to report to Parthadan.” Delioron paused for a moment to sit down on the chair in the middle and gestured Elwil to take a seat to his left. Greengage sat on his other side, separated from his guests by a small table. There were three mugs and a jug of ale on the table; Greengage filled the mugs and handed one of them to Elwil past Delioron.
”You said Parthadan’s response has arrived”, Delioron said.
”It did”, Greengage said and pulled a folded letter from his breast pocket. He gave the letter to Delioron, who opened and read it. The handwriting was Parthadan’s all right, he noted. The message was short:
Coming back now is unacceptable. The information you gathered from the burglar Navelwort is not worth the Double-Dragons Hodhion wanted. There must be something more to it. Try to find out what you can. Try to find out more about the hobbit kidnapping scheme as well, and the individual known as Sharkey, and present the information to the Rangers of the North. I have long wanted to build rapport with them, so let’s not waste this opportunity for doing so. Obviously you will find a way to omit all details about our previous dealings with Hodhion when you present your information to the Dúnedain.
P.
Greengage took a greedy sip of his ale and threw a sideways glance at Delioron. ”Now will you tell me what has happened that has gotten you so worked out? And who is our delightful visitor?”
”Take out your quill and parchment. I will dictate my report to Parthadan.”
Delioron began dictating, talking slowly with many pauses to allow Greengage to keep up with his dry, monotonous recounting of the events that had happened since he had left Greengage’s house over three days ago. He left nothing out, barring the details of his relationship with Elwil. The details of the intimate nature of their relationship were none of Parthadan’s business, though they were easily read in between the lines. When he was done, Greengage put the quill down and wiped sweat off his forehead, pouring himself another mug of ale. Delioron and Elwil had barely touched theirs.
”By the Valar’s breath!” said Greengage. ”What does all this mean?”
”It means somebody wants to destroy Parthadan. Make him resign his office, maybe get him tried and executed for treason.”
”But who?”
”There are two possibilities. Firstly, Sauron. Sauron has sent Demrîng, my old adversary from my days in Rhûn into Bree for some purpose. Demrîng claims he wants to help me, that he saved my life by killing the assassin who tried to kill me first. Is it true or is he lying? And why would Sauron want to destroy Parthadan?”
”Because Sauron knows who Parthadan is and fears him. Parthadan has a vast network of informants and spies everywhere, and Sauron feels threatened by…”
”Rubbish”, Delioron cut in. ”Sauron is not threatened by Denethor’s spymaster. If Parthadan died or was removed, he would simply be replaced by somebody else. So why bother?”
”So what’s the other alternative?”
”Túrher. The Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien. Parthadan’s old nemesis.”
”Like Demrîng would want you to believe…”
”Yes, but there is more. Sharkey. The hobbits. The information Hodhion wanted to sell, and was killed for. What is there beyond the plot to destroy Parthadan?”
There was a moment of silence, with everyone quietly pondering about the question.
”It has to have something to do with the hobbits”, Greengage finally said. ”And this Sharkey person.”
”Yes.”
”But what?”
Delioron didn’t reply. He reached for his pocket and dug out the message he had found from the man he had killed a few moments ago. He showed it to Greengage.
YHJSH RWA AYHSFBFW VICK QY CSHYWDYA EYBVRWYWKHT RC CFFW RC EFCCSQHY SWZFBV XBYYWXRXY JPYW KPY AYYA SC AFWY
”The encrypted message I took from Elwil’s would-be assassin. Copy it to the report. Something for Parthadan and his clerks to puzzle over in Minas Tirith. I will do the same here, when I have time.”
Greengage copied the message to the parchment. Then he proceeded to write a duplicate of the report. Delioron and Elwil drank their ales in silence.
”Will Elwil be safe here?” Delioron finally asked.
”As safe as can be”, Greengage assured. ”This house is like a fortress. Nobody gets in I don’t want to let in.”
When Greengage was ready they followed him to the pigeon coops and watched as he tied the folded messages into the legs of two pigeons and released them into the night sky.
”What will you do now?” Greengage asked.
”As Parthadan wishes.”
