I have spent the morning back home in the House of Three Graces, poring over the map table in the Chamber of Stars for hours until I simply needed to step away. Sadly I fear that there is no more planning that can be done until we are ready to attack and see the enemy arrayed before the gates of Kheledul. The situation is highly changeable and intensely dangerous, but I think the tides are turning in our favor.
I look across the marble hall to watch Cyndwin sleeping in the bed beyond, simply observing the rhythmic rise and fall as she breathes. Seeing her thus, at peace and safe, warms my heart. It is hard now to imagine that just a handful of weeks ago I was contemplating being without her forever more. It simply does not bear thinking on, so I shall not.
Closing my eyes, I can hear the solid ring of metal on metal as Fillegedhiel works at the forge below in the garden, mixing with the softer sounds of Hawke training at the sparing dummies, just behind her. It grieves me that they have not come to a common cause beyond tolerating one another for my sake, but that is something time alone can solve. They are both proud, sensitive souls and I wish I had been there to smooth their first encounter, but one does not always have control of such things. In time, I am sure they will learn to love and value one another...but for now, no bloodshed is enough.
Elsewhere in the house I can here the sing song buzz of Reznik's patois, punctuated by my sister's harsh squawks. Xandilif is taking pains to be sure the Kobold does not know anything else of Lhaereth the Stained's plans, learned as he assisted her thralls in the creation of the plague stones in Seregost. At this point, any scrap of knowledge may prove useful...and I believe the Banshee has come to almost like the strange little creature. Certainly she is more tolerant of him then she is of most other people I know.
I glance back to the maps, as the strange tale of Doctor Nik returns my thoughts to the battle to come....and I arrange matters in my mind again.
The attack on Kheledul will be in two clear sections....hopefully in unison.
On the one hand the assault team will attack the walls, made up of myself and brave Eduwiges, who will seek to eliminate the Necromancer Urech of the Guide of the Unsealed. At the same time, my sister Xandilif and the stalwart Masin will engage the Blood-witch emissary of the Stained Court. The Dourhand themselves will be kept busy and hopefully contained by sister Addie, her uncle, sweet Nethrida and the aged Enthan along with any other aid we gain from friends or the soldiers of Lindon.
On the second hand, the stealth team of the lady Ahmo, Lore of the Ancient Crossroads and Ahmrun of the Knife will slip in under cover of the assault and attempt to steal away The Spike from the Spire of Kheledul using the word of power provided by Reznik. They will be supported by the archer Vandallan who will also seek to spread chaos in the port with flame. Once they have the Spike, they will seek to take it by water for safekeeping amongst Cirdan's folk.
Regarding the hosts of visiting Dourhand lords that are assembled outside the Port, it seems the offer I have put forth through a third party, that if they withdraw their forces they will be allowed to bid for the Ledger of Garon, is bearing fruit. The Ledger will allow whoever possesses it to avoid their debts to Angmar and possibly cripple their rivals within the Dourhand, so the competition to regain it seems to be fierce. Bless the Lady Ahmo for stealing it from Garon so artfully at my request, for if it were not for that leverage, things would be far darker today then they are.
I wish my plans could be more precise and specific, but too much is still unknown and highly variable. We must trust to luck and our skills to win the day, when careful planning is unavailable.
Our skills...that thought draws my mind back to the myriad friends and allies involved in this endeavor. Many I had not known even a few days past, and some I may no longer know once this matter is at an end should they fall.
Of course there is Addie, whose kidnapping first brought all of this matter to my attention. So many questions still swirl around her, their answers just now being revealed to me by her soft words and gentle trust. Truly she has become like a sister to me, and her smooth, placid nature disguises the fires she keeps buried within.
Alongside her, the sweet Nethrida, my warrior, who before she was taken with Addie I had no knowledge of. Now she is so dear to me that I could not think of not having her in my deepest confidence. Once this matter is done, Xandilif and I will turn our minds to ensuring that the charges that stain her name in Gondor are dropped and she may step forward bravely into her destiny alongside us.
The mysterious Lore has opened up new vistas to me concerning that strange, tumbledown village we call Bree and the history behind it's unique place in this region. I have absolute trust in her, as well as her ancient folk who have guarded the crossroad since before the rise of Arnor.
Beside her, Ahmrun, a bittersweet figure from my past that I feared dead or returned to his native shores. I am deeply gratified that he is amongst us now and there are few I would trust at my back as I do him, despite his long absence. I wish I knew what he thought now of our history, but that is a talk for another time..
The Lady Ahmo, a friend of my sweet Lady Arahen, who inspires in me the same reverence and awe that my missing mistress does. She seems to me to represent all that is best in my heritage, even those nuances that have rejected me. Her confidence in me makes me wish to strive ever harder so as not to fail her.
Brave Masin of such a gentle and poetic spirit, quite in opposition to his rough manner and great strength. He reminds me powerfully of so many mighty Sons of Numenor that I have fought beside across the battlefields of Middle Earth. His presence calms me, and the gleam in his eye makes me smile just as that same gleam in the eye of another man did so long ago. Even though Masin's eye is bright as the plains, while the eye I remember was dark as his deepest forest, the safety they each promised is the same.
My kinsman Vandallan, recently come among us, in an enigma. Gallant as the Noldor princes of old, his spirit seems light and aloof as is so true of many of our elders of the woodlands, yet he has seen much, and is driven by a passion to do good and prove his worth. I know not what shade drives him to this battlefield, but I welcome his aid.
The elder Enthan, Lady Aulemessa, who has seen the turning of the world beneath the light of the trees themselves. I am honored she thinks this matter worthy of her grace and am certain she will see that no harm comes to either Addie or Nethrida in her care.
Lastly I think upon Eduwiges, a daughter of Rohan even as my Cyndwin is, with all the bluff and bluster of a woman raised to be a horsemistress from the cradle. Her clear eye and strong arm impressed me when first we met, but as she unfolded her true spirit to me in private confidence, her passion and devotion made me value her all the more. I will be honored to face danger by her side in this battle.
Cyndwin wakes...and I wish to take a small meal with her before returning to Breeland. Soon, the reason for all this fear and preparation will be past...Elbereth grant that we are successful, for I do not wish to consider the consequences should we fail.
