I only ever seem to find time to write in this volume when I am ensconced quietly before firelight. However, tonight I am not within the dubious protection of the Prancing Pony but rather that of the Forsaken Inn on the road to Imladris.
Cyndwin and I set out on the road together when the sun was still high, laughing and comparing notes and simply taking refuge in one another's company. I am ever greedy to reclaim that year together we lost while she slept in her blue prison beyond time, and seek every moment with her that I can manage. As the pale moon rose high above us we realized we had lost all track of time, and elected to spend the night at the Inn rather then ride through the darkness back to Bree.
Now, a hearty meal finished, we sit on the flagstones before the hearth fire. Cyndwin sleeps peacefully, her head resting upon my thigh, her third mug of ale abandoned, half finished, as I sharpen my quill and set to this task. Much news to relate, while it is still at least somewhat fresh in my mind.
First and foremost in terms of important developments must be the woman called Lore. Pale haired and beautiful with the same sense of timelessness about her as my elders wear like cloaks, she was first brought to my attention by dear Taphreille as one deeply knowledgeable about the comings and goings in Beggar's Alley and the city beneath the city of Bree. At first I thought to speak with her concerning the mysterious masked woman, Ray, however upon reflection and research I realized she could be of far greater importance. Upon hints from Taphreille I buried myself in the Library of the Scholar's Stairs and dug deep into the distant past of Bree. I soon had to abandon the formal books and avail myself of faded scrolls, cracking with age, to even begin assembling hints towards the knowledge I sought.
The picture which slowly took shape, and is still quite partial and uncertain, was epic in scope and grandeur. The settlement which would one day become Bree has been a crossroads from nearly the beginning of recorded history and had originally been populated by Northmen, those who resisted the call of the Edain and did not leave these shores for the tragic isle of Numenor. Many tribes which have often avoided the notice of the wise, such as the men of Forochel or the Dalemen and even the earliest ancestors of the Riders of Rohan were among these Northmen.These early folk of Bree land were no different, and recalled in their spoken histories watching the columns of Dunedain file in to populate and build what would become mighty Fornost, once the jewel of Arnor.
And so did I leave a note, as suggested by Taphreille, at the Pony in Barliman's care, asking to speak with Lore, who often served as spokesman of her folk. Thusly, as I sat guarding dear Nethrida in the so-called "Soothery" and we conversed in low tones, a pouch was cast down the chimney, announcing the impending arrival of Lore of the Ancient Crossroads.
Once she was safely within, we spoke of many things as we each felt one another out before trusting and we each learned many things. I informed her of the deep and poisonous involvement of the Dourhand in many of the dark deeds which troubled her people's historic protection of Bree, and she expressed to me that her kinsfolk, the leaders of which were called "Mothers" and the warrior mentors "Uncles", already sought the destruction of Strongboar and his followers. In fact, she mentioned a name I had not heard in some time, the man known to me as Ahmrun of the Knife, who had already been enlisted against this monster who had harmed Addie. She also seemed to confirm my suspicion, that the five bandits who were slain while attempting to waylay the party led by Masin and his dwarven ally had in fact been the work of herself. If it had not been her work, she was certainly content to claim credit for them. I did not see the bodies, but now that I know Ahmrun is involved in this matter, he as well could have easily done the job in Lore's name.
So did we and Lore part, after she agreed to have one of these Uncles, a bear of a man called Hadhranel guard the approaches to the hiding place of Addie and Nethrida.
Soon after this meeting, I had occasion to receive a missive (in Haradric) at the Pony from the previously mentioned Taphreille, which read as follows....
Venerable Xanderian,
Forgive me if you find need of a translation for this, but my knowledge of the written language here is limited.
I am with Sharleyan of the Applebottoms and Larkspur in the North downs.
We have found many active trails and killed many Ruk's, Men of Angmar and even some Goblins as well as men of various lands working with them.
We hide the bodies, so the enemy knows we are here, but not how many, nor where.
Reports are being sent to C. Dynnys, the Captain of the party we are attached to, who is working out of the Ranger camp of Esteldin.
With Respect,
Taphreille Hayya
And so do I now have the answer as to the identity of the Captain charged by my superiors with bringing further pressure to bear upon the slaving route from Kheledul to Angmar. I look forward to meeting this noble warrior soon.
However, on reading that missive I felt acutely the lack of intelligence regarding matters further north, in foul Angmar itself. I feared for my dear allies who so bravely walked into peril at my request, should a sudden assault by Sorcerers or the legions under the control of Donark, Paymaster of Carn Dum, pour across the border to protect and support their Dourhand connections. Towards that end I humbly asked the Lady Ahmo to go forth and seek some indication of the level of readiness prevailing in Angmar. I await her return with baited breath.
Lastly, before I gather Cyndwin and carry her to our room here in the Forsaken Inn, I must relate some news of Xandilif. I was alarmed to be informed by her that we may have a traitor in our midst, the halfling known as Kithri, who it seems has confessed to being in contact with both brigand captains and of aiding them through healing before sending them on their way. I of course can see many possible reasons for this odd behavior, especially as she seems to view Addie as a daughter. The Banshee, however, is less understanding and considers that she showed great mercy in not "Chopping that shire rat into thin slices, drying her carcass in the sun and smoking her like their blasted pipeweed". However, she seems to have accepted my urging towards forbearance, if only for Addie's sake, and the hope of using her contacts towards finding and slaying the brigands.
Lif also now seems committed to pleading Nethrida's case for a pardon before the Azure Throne of Lothiriel herself, once the dear woman is up to the travel. A plan not without risk, but nowhere near the same amount of risk being hatched by the Banshee and Addie whose joint plan seems to center around bloody vengeance, the quiet woman finally being seduced by the grim passion of SilverWand's Slut. All my sister would say on that matter was "She has tasted of the apple, and I watched the juice run down her chin..." (for reference see HERE - Xan's humble chronicler) Knowing Xandilif and her tastes in such poetry, the image fills me with terror and I hope Addie knows how corrosive revenge can be...but that is for another day to confront.
For now, I shall sleep in my beloved's embrace...then at dawn we ride back for Bree, to see if Fille is ready to depart from her mentor's side as he faces grave illness, and to see if Hawke is ready to take his first steps beyond the Midgewater Marshes.
Wheels are in motion...may Elbereth grant our friends her grace, and our foes her wrath.
