The Kinstrife

Part 3

In which Ragnor gets in a fight with a cat; Benish Armon turns out to be furnished; Brand disturbs the ashes of the dead; several people talk about their lives; and we return to find Princess Telerien's dinner party has become a murder scene.

March 24^th 1441:

A low-lying Spring fog lies over the marshes as we prepare for our little exploratory trip. Brand argues that we hire a cook until Iriel informs him that Benish Armon is close enough for just a day trip, so we take packed lunches.

The trip is uneventful and the scenery almost beautiful (I almost said 'haunting') as the temple rises out of the fog. Even I am excited a little; only Iriel looks bored, but then she's been several times before, as a child.

Parking the boats, we leave the rowers guarding them while we climb the low mound toward the large hexagonal stone building, some nine or ten yards wide. The main channel of the Anduin once came past but now the waterways have shifted and Benish Armon is long abandoned.

The architecture is Third Age with many images of cats in bas-relief. I cannot read the inscription but Brand and Iriel translate. This is the last resting place of 'Tevildo'. We (well Brand, I suppose) will have to look up the name when we get back to Pelargir.

Suddenly a large wild cat leaps from cover, catching me with my sword still in its scabbard. I really should have been more alert; Olthandil would have despaired of me. Its claws rake a nasty wound over my eye and its teeth grate on my helmet but I managed to fend it off once my sword's drawn and Aerin finishes it off with an arrow before bandaging my wounds. I think I owe her a drink.

While Aerin ministers to me, Brand and Iriel start poking in the ruins. 'Ruins' is not quite the word as the building is far from tumbled-down. In fact there are signs of recent habitation: cooking fires, fresh furniture, including beds (albeit unmade). Someone has prepared the place as a refuge, though there's nothing to indicate who or why, though I can guess.

After Aerin and I rejoin them, we all push through to find what was once a stairwell, long since rotted to nothing. With a headache coming on and having lost some blood, it would be foolhardy of me to indulge in more strenuous activity so I remain on guard at the entrance while the others climb down by rope.

Having cleaned my sword, I get a little twitchy and ask the rowers to keep a sharp lookout for approaching boats; one of them makes a circuit of the islet but luckily nothing's to be seen, which hopefully means nothing can see us.

Returning to the temple, I hear some shouts from below; it seems my friends need some furniture moving so I get a couple of rowers to follow them down.

Later, once everyone is back up (with some considerable difficulty and more than one set of rope-burned hands) I'm told they found the lower levels deserted and very uninteresting, though with further evidence of recent habitation (more beds) until they discovered a 'secret' entrance, leading under a portcullis (which they dogged with timber from a bed) to a chamber containing ten funerary urns, one white, the others black.

I was astonished to hear Brand actually upturned and urn to explore the contents – funerary ashes, of course, presumably the last remains of Tevildo. My estimation of him goes down; I'd have thought he'd show some respect.

By now it's time for lunch; Iriel shows our rowers the way to a nearby islet suitable for a picnic. I take the opportunity for a chat: life in the marshes isn't too bad (I have heard that river deltas are highly productive). The Daen bitch about Gondorians but actually do quite well under our governance (of course, Iriel is half Gondorian – pity about the other half as she's such a striking beauty). With the sunlight on the marshes around us, the teeming wading birds and occasional explorations of haunted temples, Iriel makes her childhood sound quite idyllic.

Aerin also opens up a little: her father is a merchant in Bozicha-Dar; an ex-soldier, he knew Neithan some years ago. Trade is poor in the Raj and I'm sure her father told Aerin to keep him posted as to developments. It seems she wanted to explore the world a little, though her father must be very brave to send his only daughter so far away. I hope the innate chauvinism of Pelargir and my kinsmen doesn't get her down. Having benefited from her actions twice over today, I wish her well. I must see if I can't put a little business her way to help get her started – and I must make sure Father adequately rewards her for tending to my wounds.

Aerin knows a little of the politics of the Raj: the armies of the Southern Dragon and the Storm King were once threats and are still perceived as such though it's been at least a generation since their last attack. Trade is depressed, partly due to the recent civil war, partly due to the rise of chauvinism.

After lunch we return to the Garrison, where I recover very quickly thanks to Aerin's care. Within a day I'm practicing my fencing with Neithan and I feel we're developing some sort of a rapport.

He talks a little of his life: things are pretty much how they appear to be. He supported Castamir's rebellion, believing that Eldacar should have stepped down before the ill-feeling rose so high. However, Neithan (then called Orodreth) and Eldacar's son, Ornendil, were childhood friends and when Neithan was accused of helping Eldacar to escape and protecting Ornendil, it was nothing less than the truth.

Neithan felt himself betrayed by three of his trusted captains who testified against him. Interesting; I have some sympathy with his plight. He is an honest man and tried to act with morality in a difficult situation but ultimately I cannot help but feel he was a victim of his own gullibility. That he never saw that in incoming usurper would be so ruthless or that he misread his men's character's so poorly (not but that I'm sure they were 'leant on' in no uncertain fashion) belies his own claim to be a 'politician'. Now I'm getting to know him, I think he's a soldier.

Anyway, the upshot is that his family refuse to talk to him (despite no doubt pulling strings to keep him alive) and Castamir has effectively exiled him to the Ethir. Neithan himself feels himself wronged by his captains (though I'd like to hear their stories) and believes he's 'doomed'.

Despite his ineptitude when it comes to politics, Neithan has many good qualities. I hope he can pull himself out of his melancholy in time. If I can help, I will.

Father's ship arrives on the 26^th. I oversee the transfer of the treasure and see it on its way. I tell Neithan that I have deep misgivings over this and I feel it will come back to haunt us but it is hard to see what we can do except pray to Uinen for the treasure to go to the bottom of her deeps.

The trip back to Pelargir is uneventful - no more pirate attacks, thanks be to Illuvatar - and we arrive fairly early in the morning of the 30^th. I suggest Aerin comes up the hill so she can be rewarded for her ministrations on my behalf but when we arrive at the palace, we find all is in turmoil. Servants are running hither and yon with no co-ordination and it takes several minutes before I can make someone explain the commotion – someone has killed all Telerien's suitors at her party last night!

Heart in mouth, I fight my way through to the dining chamber to find five bodies slumped at the table. At least Telerien is not among them, all the bodies are male. Of course I know them all, some better than others: Merethin of House Linton, Tegilbor of a mercantile cadet of House Serni (much as we to House Miruvor), Valadan, also of House Linton, Nastarthil of a minor house, though important in Pelargir's Merchant Guild…and Doronil, my brother!

Thankfully Doronil, Merethin and Tegilbor are alive, barely. Aerin starts administering to them immediately. Brand remarks on the stuffiness of the air and how all the windows are shuttered against the night air; I order them thrown open.

Alas, nothing can be done for Valadan and Nastarthil, they are gone, but I arrange for Doronil and the others to be taken to the Houses of Healing under Aerin's aegis. The dead men's families must be told but I think father needs to know first. With the Royal family implicated, the political fallout promises to be immense.

Father is nowhere to be found. It seems he vacated our quarters for the duration of the banquet to ensure some freedom from interruption for Telerien and her suitors. The steward for the evening was Khoradûr, Queen Murabeth's servant. The evening passed as such an evening should. One of the suitors became agitated and left after an argument, though I can't find out whom, and Princess Telerien herself retired before midnight. The other five men remained to drink and talk in to the night. They several times called for wine but the servants had thought they had fallen asleep at the table until a footman looked in at dawn.

I notice the candles have all burned down and there is a greasy feel to the table, cutlery and even the skins of the dead men. Taking a candle stub, I wrap it in waxed paper and give it to Brand to keep hidden. To me, it looks as if some foul miasma may have emanated from the candles but we cannot jump to conclusions and I am no expert on poisons – it may have been the wine or the food. It is also possible that Telerien and the sixth man have succumbed elsewhere but I hope they're both hale and hearty.

It occurs to me the first priority must be to tell father. Only he has the authority to deal with the politics of the situation. Brand and I track him down to the house of a friend where he is shocked to hear the news. I assure him that Doronil was alive when he left on a bier for the Houses of Healing and that Aerin was doing her best for him and the other two but that he should prepare for the worst.

Brand shows him the candle-stub and Father orders that Aerin take charge of the investigation. My surprise my show at this and Father explains that it will help to have someone neutral fronting the investigation. I swear to support her as well as I am able. Father affirms that we need to act quickly and find out who did this.

The shockwaves from this will rumble on and on. There are some who will think the Queen has tried to remove some unwanted suitors but that is ridiculous – all a Queen need do is to tell them to go away. Others will remark that it was convenient that Father removed himself from our quarters, that it provides a useful alibi for perhaps an attempt to remove Doronil's competition for Telerien's hand – except I am not aware my father acts in this fashion and I am certain he would never endanger any of his children.

To me, it seems the act of a lunatic. I hope Aerin's skills as a herbalist are up to the task. If she can help us unravel this horror, we will owe her more than a few coins for binding a bleeding scalp.