“I know what you did with my stallion.”
Glorfindel glanced warily over to the fence, where Ecthelion was standing, leaning on the wooden rails. “Uhhh... nice day for it,” he tried, to which, Ecthelion laughed.
“Galdor pointed out that I may well have been thoughtless in how I approached you regarding the fields and barracks. It has been depressing without the companionship of Erestor and yourself. I apologize; I should have handled things better.” He stuck out his hand. “Truce?”
“I guess...” Glorfindel walked over to Ecthelion, and grasped his arm. This lasted only a moment, until Ecthelion was pulled into a hug. “I have missed you.”
“Likewise.” Ecthelion patted Glorfindel’s back and straightened up again. “So, does this mean I can stop sending the gardener out every morning to clean the fountain?”
“Perhaps.”
“I have another incentive for you to stop,” offered Ecthelion. He gave a whistle, and down the lane came a pair of horses, led by squires of the House of the Fountain. “Someone has been watching you and Erestor, and reported to the king what you have been doing. I do not want you to get into trouble with anyone, so I am offering you the use of two of my breeding mares. If your experiments work, it will mean a great deal. You can keep the first and third foals and so on, but if you are successful, I want the second and forth and henceforth. I will have others in the future for you to borrow in the same manner as well. My stallions are at your disposal.”
Glorfindel nodded. “I think I can agree to that. If I might ask, who was the snitch?”
“Who else but Maeglin? Watch yourself, Glorfindel,” said Ecthelion as the gate was opened for the horses to be brought into the pasture. “He is looking to establish himself as a lord, and he is not too particular about who he displaces. If I had to choose, it would not be you, but he sees you as an opportunity. Do not give that to him.”
“I will be careful. Thank you for warning me.” Glorfindel was slightly put off, for he now knew that Ecthelion’s peace offering had an agenda attached. Keeping Glorfindel’s house strong was in Ecthelion’s best interest, if he did not wish Maeglin to rise in power. Further pleasantries were exchanged before Ecthelion headed back to his house, and Glorfindel went back to the tower to track down Erestor and share this news.
-----
“Erestor is looking for you,” Aranel informed Glorfindel when the blond entered the apartment. “He went to the stables to find you.”
“I just came from the stables.” Glorfindel frowned. “We must have walked right past each other without noticing it. Do you know why he was trying to find me?”
“Actually, Celebrimbor came looking for you, and Erestor said he would deliver the message.”
“Who?”
“Celebrimbor... Enerdhil’s apprentice. It had something to do with a project that you had approached Enerdhil about that he did not want to undertake. Apparently, Celebrimbor has some interest in it.” Aranel handed a cloth sack to Glorfindel as he began to leave. “Lunch, since I know the two of you will not make it back.”
“Thank you.” Glorfindel gave Aranel a quick kiss on the cheek. “Give this to Tauni for me,” he said, kissing her other cheek.
“That, and more,” promised Aranel with a wink. Glorfindel grinned and headed back down to the bottom of the tower.
As he began to pass through the courtyard, Glorfindel was stopped by Lord Galdor, who beckoned him to walk down the path that led to the Houses of the Fountain and the Tree. They fell into step together, and as they passed by the fountain of the old courtyard, Galdor said, “Laiqalasse has brought to my attention that you are in need of a practice arena.”
“Aye, until I am able to build something suitable, we are a little homeless, as it were.”
Galdor nodded. “I have a deal to make with you, if you are willing. My house is not so large as most, but we are strong. However, with the new decrees set forth by King Fingon, I have some worries about my soldiers. Laiqalasse has taken it upon himself to teach them the use of bow and arrows, but I need them to have instruction in fighting with blades. If you might lend to me three or four lieutenants to teach such things, I would allow you use of my arena until you are able to build yours.”
“I would offer one better to that. Let us, for now, combine our forces, and split the practice time. While my soldiers teach yours how to swordfight, yours can teach mine sling work. I would willingly pay rent to you for use of the arena until my fields are finished.”
“That seems fair, but I hardly need to beg rent from you. As an offer of goodwill, use my arena. It sits idle often much of the time.” Galdor raised his hand as Glorfindel began to protest. “If you attempt to argue the point, I shall retract my offer.”
“Then I accept your offer. It would be foolish for me to pretend I have a contingency plan.” He clasped Galdor’s arm. “I appreciate this, my friend.”
“Just wait until you see just how terrible my soldiers are with sharp pointy objects. You may rethink your appreciation.”
Shortly thereafter, Glorfindel had made his way back to the stables, where he found Erestor sitting on the fence with a length of straw jutting from his mouth. “Stop chewing on that and come have lunch with me,” said the blond as he locked the gate and dangled the sack of food before heading to the stable. He dumped the contents of the sack out onto the desk and hummed to himself as he waited for Erestor to join him.
The straw was still dangling out of Erestor’s mouth when he appeared in the doorway. “I noticed we had more horses in the pasture than usual.”
“Those are Ecthelion’s. He brought them by this morning.”
“All eight?”
Glorfindel looked up and frowned. “Now, I know your math is inaccurate at times, but there should only be two, not eight.”
“Then you might want to come out and count for yourself.”
“I can explain that,” said one of the young stable hands that Glorfindel employed to take care of the care, cleaning, and feeding of the horses. He had been passing by behind Erestor and doubled back when he heard the conversation. “Those were brought over by Lord Laiqalasse, but they are also from Lord Ecthelion’s House of the Fountain.”
“Ah. Thank you.” Glorfindel dismissed the hand, and then motioned for Erestor to sit. “Have something to eat. I am famished from chasing you all over the city this morning, and from what I understand, you should be likewise.”
Erestor pulled a stool over to the desk and settled onto it while Glorfindel unwrapped the bread and cheese that had been packed for them. “Celebrimbor was the one who was trying to find you. He managed to make a prototype of something you gave him the plans for and was very interested in another project that you had talked to Enerdhil about.” He pointed to a crate that Glorfindel had yet to notice. “Whatever it is, it is in there. And heavy.”
Glorfindel set the bread down on the cloth it had been wrapped in and approached the square wooden box. It bore the symbols of Enerdhil’s house upon it, and was sealed with wax with a design Glorfindel was unfamiliar with.
“That is the device for Feanor’s house,” explained Erestor once Glorfindel had stared at it for a long enough time without admitting he was confused. “Celebrimbor made it; he is Feanor’s only grandchild.”
“Celebrimbor? Quiet little Celebrimbor?” mused Glorfindel incredulously as he broke the seal in order to remove the lid.
“Aye. He is Curufin’s son, but the rumors I have heard tell he was raised by his mother. Strange story, if you have the time for it.”
Glorfindel turned his head and nodded for Erestor to continue as he began to lift piece after piece of armor from the box. It was brilliantly damasked in gold, and curiosity brought Erestor to where it was to finish the tale.
“You have seen Celebrimbor, so you know how fair he is.”
“Aye.”
“Well, Curufin certainly was not. He was cross, therefore, when his son was presented to him with an amazingly fair complexion and blond hair. Immediately, he demanded to know from his wife who she had slept with. Since there were very few possible candidates, when she swore to him she had not, he started to look around. The only blond in the vicinity was his brother. When he confronted Celegorm, he replied that he did not know if he had slept with her or not.”
“Hold on... is that even possible?” interrupted Glorfindel. He was not sorting out the pieces as he unwrapped the cloth that was around them, carefully examining each of them as he did so.
Erestor shrugged. “Celegorm is a vile, perverse ellon. He has a nasty sense of humor, and a very dangerous attitude. I would not be surprised if he either thought it would be funny to say such a thing, or if he truly had no idea who he was bedding. He is greedy, and there were rumors in Valinor that he approached the wives of others, and sometimes, there was more than that.”
“But again, just rumors.”
To this comment, Erestor bristled. “More than rumors, then.”
“You saw it happening?”
“It was told to me directly.”
Glorfindel could feel the anger flowing from Erestor. “I always thought it was Feanor you hated; you just dislike him. I can tell you hate Celegorm.”
For a little while, Erestor was silent as he decided how to respond. Finally, he answered with, “It should have been him who died on the ships and not Ambarussa Ambarto.”
“So... you REALLY hate this elf. Who did he try to proposition? It must have been someone you knew. Was it Artanis?” asked Glorfindel, keeping his voice low as he dared use Erestor’s former lover’s name.
“It was my mother,” answered Erestor darkly.
“Oh... Oh! Oh my, that is perverted.” Glorfindel shook his head. “I would be pissed at him if he tried to do anything with my mother, too.”
“He did try to do something with your mother,” said Erestor. “Your father hit him so hard he flew into the wall. Then he laughed.”
“Who, my father?”
“No, Celegorm.”
Glorfindel held up the breastplate, a smile spreading across his face. Instead of being one solid piece, it was multiplated in a herringbone design. Near the center, a sun was rising, with rays spreading out from it. “What did Curufin do to Celegorm when he told him he did not know if he had slept with his wife?”
“Nothing, really. Curufin exiled his wife for being unfaithful to him. His parting blow was to name his son as if he was Celegorm’s instead, wanting nothing to do with him.”
“He believed Curufin over his wife?” asked Glorfindel. Erestor nodded. “That is just insane.”
“And now you know why they call the Feanorians mad.”
“Celebrimbor does not seem so,” argued Glorfindel as he stood and held up the armor. “I cannot believe Enerdhil told me it could not be done. Help me put this on; I want to test it.”
Erestor set the cheese he had been eating back onto the desk and dusted the crumbs from his hands before coming back over to help Glorfindel put the armor on. “We could do this after lunch, you know,” insisted Erestor after his stomach made a discontented noise.
“It will not take very long. I do not need all of it on. Here, take my sword.” Glorfindel handed the weapon to Erestor, who held it steady with the blade pointing to the ground while Glorfindel checked over the plating. “I hate to scratch it up, but sometimes it is necessary to know it will work before commissioning more. Go on, then.”
“What?”
“Strike me. Try to pierce the armor.”
“Oh, no.” Erestor held the sword back out to Glorfindel. “With my luck, I will send you to the healer.”
“No, you will not. This is specially designed. No matter where you hit it, the blade will glide away or be caught. Give it a try,” insisted Glorfindel.
After a lengthy glare, Erestor said, “I am doing this under duress.”
“So noted. Now, strike me, or I will find a stableboy who will have no trouble doing so.”
Erestor lifted the weapon, and coming forward carefully, thrust it gently against the armor. The design caused it to slide to the left and away from Glorfindel, who rolled his eyes. “You did that like a girl.”
“I most certainly did not! I did that as a concerned friend,” countered Erestor. “I know a lot of girls... ladies,” he corrected himself, “who can fight harder than most Ellyn.” He drew the sword back again. “Ready?”
Glorfindel nodded, but he did not expect the blow to be so forceful. He stumbled back when the blade struck, but the point was unable to pierce the armor, though it had slid between two of the layers. “And Enerdhil said it was folly,” chuckled Glorfindel, removing the armor in order to check the spot where the impact had occurred. “Hardly a scratch.” He showed Erestor the plates, which, besides being interlaced, were actually folded, so that what appeared to be many layers was just one piece, folded and bent masterfully.
“Incredible. It seems awfully heavy, though,” worried Erestor.
“It is lighter than chain mail and allows more flexibility than ordinary plate armor.” Glorfindel picked up the piece that would attach to the right arm. “With chain mail, you are weighted down, and cannot fight as well. Standard plating only gives the stiff joints at the shoulder and elbow. With this, there is a fuller range of motion.” He showed Erestor how it not only bent, but twisted about in all the ways one’s arm normally did.
“Very impressive. Can we have lunch now?” asked Erestor, who was already wandering back toward the desk. “I do not want you to think I am not awed by your talent and Celebrimbor’s skill, but I am at the moment famished.”
With a grin, Glorfindel set the armor down again and joined Erestor to finish lunch. “Now all we need to do is figure out exactly how to use the land we have to build all of the additional stables and barracks.”
“Barracks? I thought we were just breeding horses.”
“A little of both.” Glorfindel picked up a chunk of cheese and began to pull pieces from it. “I want to keep the soldiers that have stuck by me through the last year and did not pledge an allegiance to another house. I owe them that much. Plus, I had an idea for expanding the current troops.”
“What are you going to do, steal them from other houses like we did with the horses?”
“No...” Glorfindel paused. “You really do have a criminal mind.”
“It was all of the years I spent hanging around Feanor.”
“But you were the elder... are you sure it did not rub off the other way instead?”
Erestor smirked and continued eating. “Well, go on, what is your plan?”
“I want to recruit from the valley.”
Erestor blinked. “You... you want to train the undesirables? Sorry, that came out badly. What I mean is, I am pleasantly shocked. How did you come to this decision?”
“Someone has to. Fingon’s edict is that every able male between fifty and three-hundred be trained. There are an awful lot of able males down there who have never held a sword before.”
“I know. No one wants to empower them like that. There has always been worry that they might decide to overthrow the upper class. There are many more of them than there are of us,” Erestor reminded Glorfindel.
“Yes, and that means I will be able to choose the cream of the crop. I want the strongest, most intelligent, bravest warriors for my cavalry. I expect I will recruit infantry as well. The cavalry is first, however. I need Turgon to see that he still needs me and that my house is a valuable part of the Gondolin forces and not just a twelfth house to keep the numbers lucky.”
“It sounds like a daunting task, but I applaud you for it. If you want to build stables and barracks enough to house an entire cavalry, then you absolutely need more land. Much more. You need pastures, breeding areas, training areas – we do not currently have that space.”
Fingertips strummed the table as Glorfindel chewed thoughtfully on a slice of bread. “Well, there is no way to build west, with the roads and marketplace. North is land owned by Egalmoth. His is facing the same trouble as we are.”
“What about building out into the forest? We could have some sort of flets up in the trees instead of traditional barracks,” Erestor suggested.
Glorfindel shook his head. “It would be disorganized and end up probably running deer and hares from the woods. With food shortages the way they are now, we do not need to press our luck in reducing the land that the wild game is using.”
“We really do not have any other choices.” Erestor sighed. “Unless we build up. Put the barracks on top of the stables.”
Glorfindel snapped his fingers. “I like that idea!”
“I was kidding,” answered Erestor flatly.
“No, that might work. I think it might, the more I dwell on it.” Glorfindel brushed off his hands and then the desk before pulling a clean sheet of paper from it. He began sketching out a few initial ideas as Erestor dug into the sack and pulled out some green plums. He rolled one across the desk to Glorfindel and bit into the other. The first plum hit Glorfindel’s wrist and rolled a few centimeters away as the blond kept scribbling on the paper. “This will be so much better than building in the forest. It is perfect.”
“What would be perfect is if we could get a hold of the land to the south.”
“I know,” said a wistful Glorfindel. “That would be perfect indeed. But Turgon will not sell it. We could see if there is land elsewhere that we could buy, though, and have the stables and barracks here and the training arena somewhere else.”
The plum pit was tossed in the direction of the trash bin at the door as Erestor frowned. “Having two locations would not be ideal. You are right about Turgon, though, he will not sell it. Maybe he would trade it if you had something he wanted that you would not sell, or would not be able to sell.”
Glorfindel tilted his head to the side as he looked across the desk at Erestor. “Such as?”
“This project that Celebrimbor has been working on. I think you could probably offer to share the plans or to provide new armor for his guards or something.”
“You want to sell him an idea?”
“Two ideas – that he gains a cavalry for the same cost he was paying for you and your ground troops, and the plans for the armor. He needs you. He needs the cavalry.”
Glorfindel set down the quill he had been using. “He has Salgant,” he reminded Erestor. “I have to be careful how I approach him. He could argue that he already has cavalry.”
“He needs a much bigger cavalry, especially if we do go to war as everyone seems to think we are going to.”
“Salgant could just recruit more riders.”
“True... that means yours need to be different. Better than Salgant’s,” added Erestor.
“Not better,” warned Glorfindel. “If they are better, how would Salgant manage to keep his employed? I do not want to displace his cavalry, I just want to be back on Turgon’s payroll.”
Erestor nodded. “Different, then. We do not need to risk losing the alliance we seem to have with Salgant. If Salgant continues to keep his as light armored cavalry fighting with arrows, yours could be trained to fight with blades.”
“That means heavily armoring the horses.”
“No good?”
“Very expensive,” explained Glorfindel. “Possible, but not right now.”
“So we need a long range weapon instead.”
Eventually, Glorfindel nodded. “But not arrows.”
“Spears?” suggested Erestor.
“Maybe.” Glorfindel picked up the plum that had come to rest near his elbow and began to peel off the skin. “We would need excellent riders with a lot of strength and control. A lot of training.”
“So, technically, we are talking about not only different, but also better as well. A small contingency. If you use that as a selling point, that Turgon will not be financing such a huge cavalry, but instead a very elite cavalry, it might be enough to work without the armor.”
“No, I need to offer both. The cavalry is to get the money, and the armor idea is the solution to getting the land. The land is going to be tough to get.”
Erestor stretched his arms and yawned. “We could offer some of the new horses when they are born. He could have his choice of the new foals.”
“If we give him horses, we will be that many more behind for the cavalry. They are much too valuable.” Once the plum was skinless, juice running down his palm, Glorfindel began to nibble at the fruit. “We need to speak to Turgon about this today.”
“It might be difficult to get an audience with him so late in the day. He likes to conduct his business in the mornings, but it does not hurt to try. I need to meet with Rog yet today to set up the schedule for the next few months; you should probably let the stable hands know who should go where, because I know you had a very set idea on how you wanted the breeding to go and they seem a little overwhelmed.”
Glorfindel nodded. “I should probably hire a few more. Hopefully, if Turgon agrees to things, I will have the funds to do so.”
“We should meet back home after we are done, and then go up to Turgon’s office together. I will be an hour or so,” said Erestor. Glorfindel nodded as Erestor left the office, and after cleaning up from their lunch, left the room to search for the stable hands.
It was almost two hours later when Glorfindel finally made it home, and another two hours until Erestor joined him. There was no explanation for his tardiness as Erestor put away a plain leather case that Glorfindel had never seen before. A note was left for Aranel and Tauniel before they left and ascended to the ninth floor of the tower.
Carynien, Turgon’s personal secretary, was sitting at the desk behind the double doors at the end of the stairway that led to the top of the tower. She was sorting through various documents and glanced up as the pair of lords approached. “What brings you here to the top of this stuffy old tower on such a fine day, m’dears?”
Erestor leaned on the high counter that had been built over part of the desk and smiled down at Carynien. Everyone in Gondolin knew that Turgon was king, but if you wanted to talk to the person who REALLY ran the hidden city, it was wise to befriend Carynien. Innocent flirting was not a bad idea, either. “Well, love, we were hoping his majesty might have time to see us this afternoon. Glorfindel has a spectacular proposal for him.”
“And your business, sir?” she teased as she pulled a black leather book used to schedule the king’s appointments out of a drawer of the desk.
“Just tagging along. It keeps me out of trouble,” he answered as Carynien opened to the correct page on the first try.
“Mmm... probably a good thing, then. It looks as if he is free, but Duilin is with him right now and he is having dinner with Duilin and Salgant in just a little while. Can I schedule you for tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow... well, tomorrow is better than nothing at all,” said Erestor. “How does the morning look?”
“Bad. Pretty full, actually. Tomorrow after lunch?”
Erestor bit his lip and turned around to face Glorfindel. “Tomorrow afternoon I need to train Rog’s troops. Can you make the presentation without me?”
“I... can... try. I think so,” answered Glorfindel unsurely.
With a nod, Erestor turned back around and gave another to Carynien. “Thank you, love, as always, you are a doll.”
“Oh, I know,” she replied with a sigh as she wrote the note in the planner for the following day. “Have a good evening. Tell Aranel not to be a stranger. I hardly see her stop by anymore.”
“Will do. Good eve, Carynien.” Erestor waited until he and Glorfindel were back in the stairwell to slump his shoulders. “I hate waiting like this.”
“Me, too,” answered Glorfindel, but he said no more as they both heard the sound of someone walking up the steps. Moments later, Lady Idril came into view. Both bowed to her as she approached, stepping to either side of the landing for her to pass.
“Well, look who I have found!” she said. She paused at the top of the flight, barely winded by the climb. “Captain, are the rumors true that you will be performing at Salgant’s playhouse when it reopens next year?”
“Aye, that is correct, m’lady,” replied Erestor. “I am determined, against the odds, to have a career on stage.”
“That is good. I was disappointed that I was unable to make the performance you were previously in. Salgant has already been informed that I want a box the opening night of Tears of Sirion. It is one of my favorites.”
“I hope I shall not disappoint you, then, m’lady,” said Erestor with another bow.
Idril turned her attention to Glorfindel. “And what of your quiet companion? Lord Glorfindel, you really must stop allowing the captain to dominate every conversation.”
“My apologies, m’lady, but his tongue is silver, and he speaks with eloquence I could only dream of.”
“Nonsense. You underestimate your own articulacy. I assume you are returning from meeting with my father. How is he today? I woke late and had already missed him by the time I made it to the dining room to break my fast.”
“Unfortunately, we do not have an answer for you. He is seeing Duilin at the moment, and we have been sent away until tomorrow,” explained Glorfindel.
“Which is doubly unfortunate, for it is another day until Glorfindel can tell your father of the marvelous ideas he has,” finished Erestor.
Idril kept her focus on Glorfindel. “Oh? What sort of ideas?”
“Military things,” replied Erestor. “Weapons and troops and such.”
“Oh.” Idril sighed. “More of that.”
“It is not exactly because I want to,” blurted out Glorfindel. “Fingon is the one who came up with this decree about training. Granted, everyone should know how to defend themselves, but I hope with all my heart we never really need to use the skills. I just want to make sure that, if it comes to it, everyone stands an equal chance, and if that means giving the peasants weapons and teaching them to ride horses—“
“You want to arm the farmers?” interrupted Idril, her eyes wide.
Hesitantly, Glorfindel answered. “Yes, I—“ He was almost thrown off balance as Idril threw her arms around him and gave him a fierce hug. “Uhm, I suppose you like that idea?”
“Finally! I have petitioned my father about this relentlessly!” Idril stepped back, but still kept hold of Glorfindel’s large, rough hands with her delicate gloved ones. “He told me it was silly because no one was going to want that challenge of training them.”
“It will be a challenge, but it is necessary.” Glorfindel made his next move carefully, and asked, “Will you offer your support of the idea when I speak to your father tomorrow? I wish to meet with him to gain his financial support.”
“You do not need to go to him. I already told you that I think the idea is brilliant. Tell me what you need and I will provide the funds.”
Glorfindel blinked. “Really? You can do that?”
“Of course I can. He provides me with a very generous personal stipend, and when Aunt Aredhel left, he refused to touch any of the money she had, so I have that as well to do with as I please. Adar never told Maeglin about it, and as far as I am concerned, there is no reason for him to know. I also have investments, so do not worry, I believe I can support your plans.”
“It is going to be a very expensive venture,” admitted Glorfindel. “There are going to be building costs, salaries, training costs—“
Idril held up her hand. “I am going to give you a number. You tell me if you need more or less.” She glanced over her shoulder at Erestor, and then leaned forward and whispered something into Glorfindel’s ear that made his eyes bulge. “Too low?” she asked with a smirk.
“No, not at all! I would almost say far too generous! It will be more than enough for this year, and next year we can—“
“That is a monthly figure, Lord Glorfindel,” corrected Idril. Leaving Glorfindel speechless, she smiled and curtseyed before dismissing herself. “I need to ready for dinner. Good evening, and I will set up an appointment for us to speak more later, Lord Glorfindel.” Idril disappeared, the double doors swinging as she entered through them, until they slowed and stopped.
Erestor raised one brow, for Glorfindel had yet to say anything. “How much did she offer you?”
“I fear if I repeat it, I will wake up and find this all a dream.”
“I take it we are set for money, then. Which means, all you need to do tomorrow is convince Turgon to give you his land in trade for your ideas,” said Erestor. “Good luck with that.”
“I am going to need more than luck tomorrow,” answered Glorfindel. “I think I used up all my luck just now with Idril.”
