After hearing the news that Gandalf had returned with Rogier and D, Tarnes eagerly rushed outside Stormveil Castle to wait for them.
Rogier and the others weren't slow either, quickly arriving at the main gate of Stormveil Castle.
Tarnes was the first to greet them, embracing Rogier, D, and Gandalf in turn.
"Thank you for your hard work, Rogier and D," Tarnes said warmly as he embraced them.
Then he looked at Gandalf, opening his arms with a smile: "It's been almost half a year since we last met, hasn't it? Did the changes in my territory give you quite a shock?"
Gandalf cheerfully accepted Tarnes' embrace, and after releasing him, said kindly: "The speed at which you've rebuilt your homeland can truly be described as shocking. Though we've been apart for almost half a year, the changes in your territory seem like fifty years have passed. Moreover, when I returned, I passed through those human kingdoms' territories and heard minstrels singing songs about your land."
Tarnes showed a curious expression: "Oh, there's such a thing? But I've always been in Minhiriath, and even my compatriots haven't traveled to places where humans gather. How could human poets be praising my territory? How do they sing it?"
Gandalf cleared his throat, recalling the minstrels' lyrics, and sang in a loud voice with an operatic tone:
At the edge of the ancient West, plague's hand spreads death's script.
Floods mercilessly swallow the fields, lives suffer, and wails are everywhere.
But in the southwest, there's a lonely wizard, his eyes burning with hope's fire.
Clad in armor, wielding a sword, striding forward with firm steps, upon ruins, vowing to rebuild.
He treads upon golden, shining land, sowing seeds of peace in his heart.
The wizard's spells echo across barren earth, life and hope slowly awakening.
The distant homeland will no longer be a dream.
In that once desolate land,
Golden radiance and peaceful songs,
Will forever illuminate each dawn.
Hearing Gandalf's singing, D said quietly: "Ha, not bad."
He quite liked this ballad, since humans in distant places were praising Tarnes and his Golden Tree, which made D, who believed in the Golden Tree, very happy.
Rogier stood beside D, and sensing his inner emotions, chuckled softly. Before D could turn to look, he raised his hand and applauded gently: "Indeed a fine ballad, and thank you for your singing, old Gandalf."
Tarnes felt even more curious, looking at the smiling Gandalf: "So how did these human poets learn about my situation here?"
Gandalf replied: "You'll have to ask your Dwarf friends about that. All this news and these songs praising your territory came from the mouths of Dwarves traveling from the Blue Mountains to various places."
Dwarves? Well then.
Images of Thorin and those enthusiastic Dwarves flashed through Tarnes' mind, and a slight smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. He roughly understood what was going on.
Gandalf continued chuckling: "Perhaps after a while, humans interested in your territory will actually come. You know, wizards rarely stay fixed in one place for long, let alone establish their own territory. You're the second wizard to do so, so there are certainly many people interested in you."
"If friends come, I naturally have fine food and wine to welcome them," Tarnes said generously.
Then he noticed what Gandalf had said and asked curiously: "I'm the second? Are there other wizards who, like me, have established their own territories?"
Gandalf's smile briefly disappeared, and he answered somewhat unnaturally: "Yes, Saruman the White. He came to Middle-earth with me and established his own wizard's tower in Isengard."
Tarnes noticed Gandalf's unnatural expression. He could tell that Gandalf's relationship with this wizard called "Saruman" wasn't particularly good.
Though he was curious about what had happened between Gandalf and this White Saruman, he didn't spoil the mood by asking.
Tarnes just smiled, then noticed from the corner of his eye the pair of golden, slender ceremonial straight swords hanging at Gandalf's waist. To change the subject, he teased: "Compared to the Dwarves spreading stories about me, I'm more curious about that nickname you gave me when introducing me to Elrond. I remember it was 'Sword-giver'? Why did you give me that nickname?"
"Ahem, well, this actually happened because when I was a guest in Rivendell, chatting with Elrond, he noticed the ceremonial straight sword you gave me. He asked me about you, how to address you, and I couldn't think of how to introduce you for a moment, so..." Gandalf hurriedly explained.
Tarnes indicated he didn't mind and asked: "How are they? Have they been helpful to you?"
Gandalf raised his hand to gently feel the golden-forged sword hilt, smiling: "Of course, I could even say they've been of great help. If not for the sword you gave me, I'm afraid it would have taken several more days for me to return and find you."
Tarnes immediately understood the meaning in Gandalf's words. His smile faded slightly: "Is this related to your investigation of northern affairs? What happened there?"
Gandalf's smile also faded. He nodded, then glanced at Rogier and D, who were waiting quietly nearby, and smiled again: "This isn't the place for a long conversation, Tarnes. Take us somewhere suitable for talking—I have many things to tell you."
While making an inviting gesture, Tarnes asked: "What would you like to drink? How about a cup of Blue Mountains clear tea that the Dwarf caravan brought last week?"
"No, no, please bring me a cup of wine instead. If it's excellent quality Dwarf wine, that would be even better," Gandalf said.
In the Lord's Hall
The wine cup on the table before Gandalf was filled with red-purple translucent liquid—Tarnes had fulfilled Gandalf's wish.
Rogier had just finished reporting intelligence about Tharbad. He stood at the conference round table opposite Gandalf, telling everything he had observed.
"Similar to the abandoned Lond Daer, Tharbad also has a large area of abandoned buildings and a very long bridge spanning both ends of the Greyflood. However, this bridge is in disrepair, with many collapsed sections making it unusable, just like those two outside Raya Lucaria Academy." After finishing, Rogier sat down.
Then D stood up and continued Rogier's words: "But unlike Lond Daer where Misbegotten can be stationed, Tharbad's ruins are filled with extensive marshlands. Moreover, because that bridge is in a half-destroyed state, the area around it is also very dangerous—who knows when the remaining bridge sections might collapse. This means that before this river port city is completely rebuilt, it's impossible to station troops or live there. And this city, which is three to four times larger than Lond Daer, is obviously not something we can spare manpower and wealth to rebuild right now."
Rogier, who had already sat down, added with a faint smile: "Perhaps when the Golden Tree's protective range reaches Tharbad, you could directly summon that academy from Liurnia there, Tarnes. That would save a lot of human resources and money."
Tarnes nodded, then looked at Gandalf. He remembered that rebuilding Tharbad was something Gandalf and Elrond had discussed together.
Noticing Tarnes' gaze, Gandalf took a sip of wine: "Tarnes, rebuilding Tharbad isn't urgent—it doesn't need to be done overnight. I think Lord Elrond has already conveyed our wishes to you."
Tarnes nodded: "Yes, Tharbad... just as Rogier mentioned, I won't send people there temporarily until the Golden Tree's protective range can influence that area. Well, that's enough discussion about Tharbad. Gandalf, I also have something to tell you."
Gandalf asked: "What is it?"
Tarnes said: "It's about Lond Daer."
Gandalf frowned slightly: "Lond Daer? I remember from your earlier conversation that it's already been occupied by Misbegotten from your territory. Did something go wrong there?"
Tarnes shook his head: "No, nothing's wrong now—it's about what happened before."
"Before?"
"Yes." Tarnes nodded. "Gandalf, at some point before, Lond Daer was occupied by a group of Orcs. They captured humans from all over Middle-earth and enslaved them to rebuild Lond Daer Great Port."
Gandalf's eyes widened as he suddenly stood up, his blue eyes revealing his inner shock: "Orcs were repairing Lond Daer Great Port?"
Then he sat back down, instinctively reaching for his long pipe and tobacco from his waist, then remembering he was in the lord's hall and putting them back.
Gandalf fell into deep thought, his expression becoming grave: "If I didn't know your character, I'd think you were telling me some new kind of joke."
Tarnes didn't speak, but Rogier, hearing Gandalf's words, asked curiously: "Is this situation very serious? I think it's normal for Orcs to want to occupy a stronghold."
"No, this is not normal at all, Mr. Rogier." Gandalf immediately shook his head, fingering his pipe as he spoke. "If it were a group of humans, even a group of Dwarves, I wouldn't find it strange. But those are Orcs. Rather than construction and repair work, they're better at destruction and waste. Unless they're under some commander's leadership, they wouldn't do what you encountered."
Tarnes thought of something: "Your mention of this reminds me of something, Gandalf. When the Golden Tree's Misbegotten successfully defeated the Orcs in Lond Daer, their leader was captured alive. When I interrogated him about who ordered them to repair Lond Daer Great Port, that Orc leader said something like 'Our master has returned; darkness will once again shroud Middle-earth' before committing suicide."
Clang.
Gandalf momentarily lost his grip on his pipe, which fell to the floor with a crisp sound.
However, Gandalf didn't care about his pipe falling to the ground. Instead, he stared nervously at Tarnes: "Are you sure you didn't mishear? The Orc said exactly that?"
Tarnes raised his right hand, pointing toward the Golden Tree's direction: "I swear by the Golden Tree's name, Gandalf—I absolutely didn't mishear."
Gandalf's expression became complex. While bending down to slowly pick up his pipe, he said gloomily: "No wonder I also encountered organized Orcs on my way to the Lonely Mountain. They appeared regularly as if following someone's orders, attacking villages or isolated merchant caravans."
"Darkness, darkness... no, we can't be completely certain yet, but we can't completely ignore this possibility either..." Gandalf kept repeating these words.
Finally, he looked up, revealing the wise face beneath his wizard's hat, and extended an invitation to Tarnes: "What you just told me is truly very helpful. It seems it's time to convene the second White Council meeting. I wonder if you have time to accompany me to Rivendell to participate in this White Council? If my guess is correct, we'll need your power to fight against the darkness that's beginning to awaken, Tarnes."
Tarnes didn't answer immediately but asked first: "How long would this trip take before we could return?"
Though Gandalf didn't understand why Tarnes asked this question, he estimated the time in his mind: "Conservatively, about five months, and that's assuming we don't encounter accidents on the road. After all, Rivendell is quite far from here, and with Tharbad's waterways currently impassable, this would be the fastest time."
Tarnes showed a conflicted expression and said with a bitter smile: "Why does it feel like everyone needs me for meetings? I'm afraid I can't agree to your request. You're not the first person to invite me, Gandalf. I'd very much like to agree and go with you, but I already have a prior commitment."
Gandalf asked: "Whose commitment could make you refuse a wizard's invitation?"
Tarnes replied: "Dwarves from the Blue Mountains—Thorin Oakenshield, the current king of Durin's folk."
Gandalf was somewhat surprised: "It's actually him? I was also planning to go to the Blue Mountains to find him and discuss something when I returned."
Then Gandalf realized and said to Tarnes with sudden understanding: "Wait, you mean Thorin actually invited you to participate in the Dwarves' Ered Luin council? Does this mean Thorin is already preparing action against the Lonely Mountain?"
Now it was Tarnes' turn to be surprised, because he hadn't said anything yet, but Gandalf had already guessed most of it.
He asked somewhat suspiciously: "Don't tell me you were originally planning to find Thorin and persuade him to reclaim the Lonely Mountain?"
Gandalf nodded: "Yes, while evil hasn't fully awakened and that evil dragon in the Lonely Mountain still slumbers in the gold, this is the perfect time for the Dwarves to restore the Lonely Mountain."
[Chapter Complete]
***
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