Lumenire accepted Seregrian’s accord with quiet grace, understanding the need to protect family. Teahesto was visibly relieved by that, as he could only imagine the conflagration that would erupt between them were they to by energetically opposed. Lumenire reassured him that she and the expecting lore-mistress were, even though they had never met, inextricably joined in cause, for through unpredictable circumstances their families were now joined by both marriage and blood. The rune keeper agreed to await invitation from Seregrian, since Teahesto affirmed the lore-mistress’s intent to keep Gilmorwen’s effects secure until they could all gather over them.
The captain left the Windview estate manor and its mistress behind and rode directly to the Bree crafting hall, just halfway across town, hoping to find Claywick Cob, now a retired bounty hunter and soon to also be a parent with his bride, Caladna. Unfortunately, the woodworker was out about on errands, and Teahesto was left to jot a note for him and leave it for the Hall mistress, Bonny Thatcher, to deliver it; he would wait for Clay at the Prancing Pony.
The tavern’s atmosphere was unique and unmistakable. The aromas of roasted meat, baked hearty bread, and soured spilled brew had soaked into the rough timbers and floor planks. Dim light from cloudy windows, stubby candles, and fireplaces cast enough light to navigate around the furnishings, but not quite enough to readily identify the ever-present patrons scattered around the tables in tiny groups, muttering secretively. It was often best for infrequent visitors to find a place to sit while being both wary and indifferent to following eyes. Teahesto chose a table along the back wall, near a grimy window that struggled to cast light. He straightened and re-lit the extinguished candle that lay teetering on the table’s edge. When the inquisitive server came, he ordered cider.
Clay Cob entered the tavern and scanned the room until he saw the captain. The huge man wended his way to the bench opposite Teahesto, and he sat, his massive frame eliciting a creaking moan from the wooden slats. “I was pleasantly surprised to get your message, Captain.”
“I must confess” the captain uttered, “I asked to see you with yet more unsettling news, and to hopefully get some insight.”
Clay waved off the approaching server. “More trouble from the Wildwood?”
Teahesto shook his head. “My interests there are ... satisfied for now. Events have instead led me here to ask you what you might have heard lately of The Angle.”
Shrugging, the woodworker offered, 'Nothing untoward. I hear there has been more trade in and out of there lately, which would seem to imply things are relatively quiet. What has led you to investigate the Angle?'
“Some rumors have reached me that agents from Angmar have been seen in the area.”
Clay's jaw tightens at the mention of Angmar. He held the captain with a fierce gaze for a moment. “Angmar. What are they prowling about for?”
“Not sure, although if they are following their usual fanaticism, it would be to satisfy their hunger for antiquities.”
Under a lifted brow, the former bounty hunter snorted. “Really? You might want to seek out Bellem Grey. He is rumored to ... trade in artifacts. Most likely you will find him in the Town Hall. He is also a licensed barrister. So, you are done upsetting the Wildwood raiders for a bit?”
Teahesto nodded. “For the time being”
“You are confident that Gilmorwen has not risen from the dead?”
Teahesto chuckled. “Quite. Although...her sister is very much alive and well, and is still involved with things there, in a positive way.” He started to rise from the table.
Looking up at the rising Elf, Clay exclaimed, “A sister!? Another of Little Man's relatives popping out of nowhere? You must tell me more of this!”
“I will when time permits me to return. But for now, I need to find this Grey fellow.”
“Safe travels, then, Captain.”
The Bree Town Hall dominated the southern half of town, with a walled flagstone plaza gracing the front of the two storied structure kept in fine shape by the coin and toil of the townsfolk and their land-holding neighbors. Across the street, a hedged-in park attracted picnickers and buskers, and children flying kites on winds blowing in from the cleared farmlands beyond the city walls. Teahesto entered, asked for Bellem Grey, and was directed to the courtroom, where the Man he sought stood thoughtfully before the ornate bookcases holding official-looking tomes.
“Are you Bellem Grey?”
“Yes, Elf lord, and you are?”
The captain chose a chair in the front row of the empty hearing room. “Teahesto, an acquaintance of Claywick Cob, who sent me to you for counsel.”
Bellem descended from the railed platform that supported the bookcases and the podium facing the courtroom. Moving to a chair next to the captain, he asked, “Truly!? What sort of counsel would a High Kindred need from a Mortal? Is it some legal issue with Men?”
“No, something more in line with what is said to be your other … interests?”
The barrister sat. “Ah! The past? Surely you have lived it more vividly than my studies could possibly inform…”
Teahesto offered a polite smile. “Specifically, artifacts of the past, and those who would seek them.
“Antiquities then?”
“Aye, and your possible knowledge of their locations in The Angle, and those who might be pursuing them.”
Bellem leaned back, examining Teahesto’s face. “Tomb raiders, eh? Anyone specifically you are curious about?”
“Angmarim.”
Thoughtfully nodding, Bellem rose and stepped back up to the bookcases. Teahesto watched as the man carefully riffled through some scroll cases before selecting one, withdrawing its contents, and unrolling it as he returned to his seat. He lay the unrolled map of the Angle and laid it across their adjacent laps. “Ah, so they may be snooping around their old conquests in the Angle again, eh?.” He pointed at one of several tower symbols “Well there are several ruins in the area that may be of interest. Surely you are already aware of the history of Eitheldir.”
The captain nodded, sadness on his face. “Yes. Oranoril’s last battle was fought there. An age ago she drew Sauron’s armies to the stronghold to enable other Elves to flee to Imladris. The final sacrifice that she and her heroic command gave are still remembered in Elf song. While she fought, I was given the duty to help the escaping Elves reach Elrond’s refuge.”
After a few minutes of awed and respectful silence, the barrister continued, moving his finger to another of the symbols. “Then there is Ost Waeren, of the kingdom of Rhudaur. When it fell, so did this fortification. When the Witch-king forces finally left, these ruins were abandoned. As far as I know, the Dunedain still shun the place. It may still hold some secrets only the Angmarim know.”
Bellem watched the captain silently take in the information, the Elf not giving any indication what he already knew from what he did not, and a sadness never left him. “Then there is Tham Lumren, another of your kin’s settlements that also fell to Sauron?”
Teahesto sighed. “Aye, the Shady Hall. Some of my kin pass through there on the pilgrimage West to re-plant trees that the war destroyed.”
The barrister’s finger moved to the last symbol. “And, then there is Thelgarth, another set of ruins from the days of Rhudaur, and the last bastion of the Dunedain to fall. The Angmarim slaughtered all there in what became known as the Night of Red Waters. It lay abandoned after that, but it is rumored to now be a camp for brigands and half-orcs.”
“And perhaps another place of secrets known only to the Angmarim.” For a long minute, the captain’s eyes perused the map, his face occasionally reflecting emotions rendered by personal memories of a lifetime too long for the barrister to comprehend. “Thank you, Bellem Grey. Your information has been most useful. May I call upon you again sometime?”
The barrister met Teahesto’s respectful gaze, and he was struck by the notion that an Immortal had, or might again, seek his Mortal counsel. “Ever at your service, Elf Lord.”
They exchanged farewells, and Teahesto left, seeking a quick messenger to Falathlorn to carry his information by letter to House Bar-en-Acharn and Her Ladyship. Having seen to that, he set off toward The Angle.
