Torndollben stood almost at attention in front of a large lebethron desk in a luxurious state room in the Great Guest-House of Minas Tirith. It was a gloomy morning outside the Guest-House. Thousands of workers, soldiers, scholars and servants were making haste to their duties and errands all around the White City like ants in a gigantic anthill. Leaden clouds of rain surrounded the ornate White Tower of Ecthelion. Gusts of wind blew along the tiers, snatching hats and scarves and throwing them into streams of rainwater flowing in gutters and trenches. Winter was coming, and winter in Gondor meant heavy rains and strong winds.
”We know where she is”, Torndollben said. His soft voice almost faded in the vastness of the quiet room. ”She’s hiding out in Linhir, Dor-en-Ernil. She used to work there as a scribe and a scholar under a local historian three years ago. I worry that she might have made contact with her old mentor. That could complicate matters even more.”
”I see”, said Lord Falaben, making a tent with his fingers. ”Are you certain of it?”
”Fairly certain. Aranuir told us all about her and her history. She has no living relatives, and the only places she could have gone to if she didn’t come back to Minas Tirith are in Dor-en-Ernil or Lebennin. My men tracked her down to Pelargir and interviewed some folk there. It seems she didn’t linger in Pelargir for long. She slept there overnight and passed through the city, heading west. The other possibility is Ost Anglebed where she lived with her family for a while as a child, but like I said, she has no living relatives there. My instincts say we will find her in Linhir.”
”We can’t rely on instincts and gut feelings in this matter”, Falaben remarked. ”The security of our operation is at stake. I doubt we would even know about the existence of the diary without the kindly assistance of Lord Torthadir.”
Falaben stood up from behind his desk and walked over to the stained glass window. He looked at the bustling ants at the Citadel for a while before turning his back to the window.
”And what about Aranuir?” he asked. ”What did Aranuir say?”
”My Lord?”
”Did you make it absolutely clear to him that we are prepared to take action against his son?”
Torndollben looked down at the tips of his boots, looking uncomfortable.”Regrettably I have to inform my Lord that Aranuir is dead. Drank poison last night.”
”I see. Did he leave behind any documents that would lead back to us?”
”No, my Lord. We swept his desk immediately after it happened. I had a man in place there, hiding in the Houses of Lore to look for any documents about Radawen in case Aranuir left his desk unattended. He never did. We also swept through the woman’s apartment, but found no further clues about her potential whereabouts. I have sent three men over to Linhir, they are on their way as…”
”Dammit, Torndollben!” Falaben said. ”This is a real mess. Somehow that woman has managed to slip through your fingers with that damned diary and travel all the way to Linhir – if she’s even there – and who knows who she’s shown it to? This is a real mess, Tordollben, and I expect you to solve it for me.”
”My Lord. You are right, my Lord.”
”Well, at least Imloth Melui is cleaned up. Or is it?”
”I pulled everyone out of Imloth Melui. Except for poor Pengtaurion. We found his corpse washed up at the riverbank of Erui between Imloth Melui and Arnach. He had been partially eaten by the fish and wild animals, but we recognized him all right. His neck had been broken.”
”Balrog on a spit!”
”It had to be the doings of that spy of Parthadan’s we never located. Delioron.”
”Dammit, Torndollben, I want you to go to Linhir personally! I want you to take care of it for me. I will talk to Torthadir. There’s been a murder in Imloth Melui, a man from my retinue has been murdered and this spy Delioron and the woman are both involved. They have fled Imloth Melui to avoid consequences. Let’s see what happens when the word of that gets around…”
Tordollben allowed a smile to soften his snakelike features.
”The diary”, Falaben continued. ”We have to make sure we get the diary. Without it our operation in Ethir Anduin is at stake. Many things are at stake.”
”Yes, my Lord.”
”I want that woman to be taken care of”, Falaben said. The veneer of civility had entirely disappeared from his voice. ”Do I make myself clear? That woman and that spy. Both of them taken care of, and permanently. Do you understand?”
”Yes, my Lord.” Torndollben was standing very straight now. ”I’m on it.”
”Before you depart, go get my secretary here. I need to send some letters concerning Aranuir’s son.”
”My Lord?”
”I want to have him arrested and formally prosecuted. Now that Aranuir is dead, I have no reason to overlook his crime anymore. I don’t want anyone to think that they can back away from a deal with me simply by killing themselves. That would not send a good message to my subjects, don’t you agree?”
”Yes, my Lord”, Tordollben replied and closed the door behind him.
Falaben sat down behind his large, empty desk, leaning back on his chair. Aranuir was dead, so his son would have to pay his father’s debts. And other debts as well. All the debts. Falaben always collected in the end. He wouldn’t have been among the riches men in Gondor if he didn’t.
