A Secret Meeting (Not ICly Known)

The interior of this old, long-abandoned shop -- the \"Wayfarer\'s Goods\" -- is far from impressive. Though a sturdy roof still withholds rain and weather, water trickles down one wall, and more than a few rats and spiders lurk in the outermost shadows.

Common street-chatter has long had it that the old shops in this part of town are the playground of pickpockets and other disreputables languishing in the otherwise law-abiding City of the Guard if so, the \"Wayfarer\'s Goods\" seems to be safe from their attention. Indeed, it is empty right now, save for rodent and black widow, and one would think it completely forgotten were it not for the presence of a single lamp sitting on a stool in the far end of the store, protected from outside attentions by the remnants of a wooden wall. It sits there, flame flickering, as if an indication that a promised meeting is indeed to take place.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Weather:            Rainy

Time:               Dawn <07>

Season:             Spring

Date:               Oranor - May 7, 3051

Real Time:          Wed Nov 03 16:42:46 2010

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The sun is setting -- a boy in a plain, battered cloak smelling of polish and grease does not stand out among the deserted streets. Wearily, Turlach pauses on the threshold, lowering his hood.

It\'s another drizzly day, and while such weather cannot keep everyone within, it has thinned down the crowds somewhat - and the hour more so. The clouds thin for the time being, the setting sun flashes golden, and a lady walks unobtrusively behind Turlach, pausing startled, when she sees him. \"Turlach? What are... ?\"

The boy shows an abnormal fear of the dark alley, doing much to keep himself within the last few beams of the sun. \"What?!\" Turlach whirls around, a hand drawing reflexively into a fist. \"Oh ... hello, miss. Nothing much.\" The other hand curls about a thin scrap of parchment.

\"It\'s me,\" Tathar says, lifting her hood. \"Why are you... \" Her eyes drop to the paper. \"Oh. You got one also? I wonder...\" She glances around, but no one else seems to be sauntering with abnormal casualness towards them.

\"Greetings, friends!\" a voice is suddenly heard from the darkness, somewhere within the ruined shop. \"Please, come in, shut the door... I am glad that you honored my request and have arrived without an escort.\" After a moment, it -- he, for it is indeed a man\'s voice -- adds, \"I see you already know each other.\"

From the lack of surprise in his tone, one can assume the man was very much aware of their relation.

Turlach bolts in front of the lady, his hand unconsciously straying toward his belt. \"Do as he asks, but stay behind me,\" he murmurs to his aunt.

Then to the man who speaks from the shadows: \"What, sir, do you want?\"

Both of Tathar\'s eyebrows rise at Turlach\'s abrupt defensive motion, and a bit of humor crinkles the edges of her eyes. But meekly, she does as he requests, allowing him to go first and to speak for them both. For the moment.

\"Merely to chat, to make converse,\" the voice, modulated in the manner of the southwestern fiefs, answers good-naturedly. \"Please, come in, sit, there are chairs by the lamps. Worry not. I wish you no harm at all, I must simply take necessary precautions to ensure the... confidentiality of our discussion. Treachery is all too-familiar an experience in these troubled times.\"

\"Treachery...\" the boy frowns, then moves cautiously forward, sitting upon a chair that creaks suddenly and causes him to jump. \"I hope we will have none of that this eve, sir.\"

Tathar follows, gathering her skirts in one hand and sitting down with silent composure. She looks around, trying to see the originator of the voice. \"Will you not show yourself?\" she asks after a moment, then frowns. \"Indeed! I warn you, I will be party to no treason.\"

\"None at all, I assure you,\" the voice answers as its speaker emerges from the shadows not from behind the lamp, but another part of the shop nearer to where the entered, and from where he might have observed their approach unseen.

He is dressed in the manner of a Guildsman, unremarkable and seemingly unarmed, though a cowl is drawn tightly about his face, and its brow obscures with fold and shadow all but his languid smile. He moves, hands spread as if to assure them of his good motives, towards the last of the seats placed near the lamp. \"Please. Be at ease. I wish nothing but to talk... which, truly, is too dangerous an activity even now. Or am I mistaken in that you have not witnessed the mewling of men who think that any question asked, and challenge posed, any thought considered, is automatically an act of a vile traitor?\"

\"Fear is high in the city,\" Turlach replies darkly, \"but those who seek out these words think the best of the Steward and are trying to keep these dissensions from descending into violence ...\" He falls silent, his brow lined, fingers grasping the edge of his chair.

Tathar watches the man come near, tilting her head to one side her eyebrows pinching together slightly as his face remains hidden. Turlach speaks, and she is silent, thinking perhaps, until finally, she says, \"Fear and anger both.... they do not bring out the best in men. What have you to say, then?\"

\"You both speak the truth,\" answers the cowled Venturer, \"These things are never simple, are they? And that is why I have approached you...\" He glances towards the door, as if to ensure their meeting is yet undisturbed, before adjusting the lamp slightly, dimming its light till it flickers on the edge of extinguishment. \"If rumor has it correctly, you are noble scions of a House, and yet you look to the plight of common-born men and women with kindness, and compassion. Do you not?\"

Turlach\'s face is stony in the dimmed light, his movement towards the sword-belt cautious and slow. \"I only wish that they be heard as countrymen of Gondor, ere they might be punished. But little love have they for the nobles still,\" the boy finishes quietly, and his face shifts with fading bruises and a cut lip.

\"It is the honor of Gondor that all be heard, from least to greatest,\" Tathar says firmly. \"And the duty of the higher-born to be honorable in their dealings with those who cannot easily speak against them and to act with justice to those put in their care.\"

Salgant looks to Tathar, focusing on her words. \"And yet there are those who do not honor that duty Lords who oppress and abuse those under their power. The voices of many are not heard, for their betters wish not to listen to them.\"

The Guildsman flicks a hand, and two coins land at the ground near the feet of the Nimethain nobles they are unlike any Gondorian coin in mint, though the image and writing on them is indistinct in the dim light. \"I represent one who wishes to listen. One whose thoughts are with the people.\"

\"A bribe?\" Turlach laughs softly, his eyes flashing silver as he stands and backs away from the money. \"Sir, surely you know that in trade, a merchant is known as crooked by his showing of inappropriate coin. What do you mean by this?\"

\"No bribe,\" Salgant answers. \"Merely a means of identification.\"

Tathar does not rise, but bends to pick up the coin and look at it, turning it over in her fingers. She is frowning as she peers at the markings in the dim light. \"Who,\" she asks finally, bluntly, \"do you represent? I cannot...\" She squints at the coin again, before letting it drop to the ground once more, and glancing up at Turlach.

\"To mark us as traitor? I will have none of it,\" the boy growls, his hand curling around the hilt of a small knife.

\"I would remove the hand from your knife, my young friend,\" Salgant answers, with a hint of steely irritation, \"for I would very much like to permit you to leave this place unharmed. This alleyway is much too isolated for your cries to be heard should you chose to betray my trust in you.\"

\"Let be, Turlach,\" Tathar says quietly. \"You cannot attack him here and these coins can mark you as nothing, if you do not carry one with you. But how do you know what it is, if you do not even look?\"

Turlach frowns helplessly and sits down next to the lady, his glance flicking carelessly to the coins. \"I am not your friend. And I do not trust you. Keep your coin.\"

Salgant snorts a little. \"I had hoped that you might have a little trust in me... Unless, of course, the rage of the Steward and his lackeys has you so rattled that you dare not think even a contrary thought.\" The Venturer tilts his head his smile has long-since faded. \"Keep the coin it is not worth much in the markets of Gondor. Nor is it of a currency familiar to anyone in this realm but the most licentious of smugglers. Should you have a care for justice, and for what is right, you need only go to the City of Pelargir, to the Library. Pass upstairs to the gallery and find the great tome detailing Gondor\'s history. Leave your coin within, on the chapter concerning the Siege of Umbar in 3008, and you shall receive instructions shortly thereafter.\"

The Guildsman rises to his feet, brushing away some dirt from the hem of his cloak. \"Of course, do not bother doing so if it is only to bring down the wrath of Denethor\'s inquisitors... I shall know, and be as insubstantial as a ghost.\" His expression is a little haughty, but he nonetheless offers a polite tip of his head. \"Still... You have my thanks for meeting me here. If it has been an error of judgment on my part... You shall not hear from me again.\"

\"Who do you represent?\" Tathar asks again. \"We have come here, with no one following, as you requested. We have trusted you this far. Yet I have no desire to be led, step by step, into a trap I do not see - to find at the end, I have committed myself to something I cannot sanction, or that goes against my honor.\"

\"You may call him Lord Lheithian... A friend, even if you would deny it.\" Salgant lifts a hand, tugging at the end of his cowl but not removing it. \"But alas, that is all I may say. Though you may feel endangered, it is he who incurs the greatest danger, and so the rest must be revealed... in time, if you so choose.\"

\"And now I must ask you to leave,\" he concludes, \"For the appointed time of this meeting has concluded.\"

The lady considers for a moment, watching Salgant\'s face - or where his face would be could she see it. Finally, she bends again, to pick up the coin so recently dropped. \"I do not know if I will do this or not,\" she tells him. \"Yet you have my word that no inquisitors will descend upon you for this meeting from any word of mine.\" She rises, nods her head to him. \"And I do not take my honor lightly.\"

\"A friend,\" scoffs Turlach, but takes the coin all the same as he leaves.

By the time the pair might reach the door, Salgant is already gone consumed by the shadows.

Yet when they open the rotting entranceway, two uninvited guests are there to greet them... tabby strays, their fur matted and their eyes wide and curious. They peer past Tathar and Turlach with great interest -- feline alacrity of the highest order -- as if something within the confines of the ruined shop is of immense interest.

In a wink, the cats have slipped passed the pair, their purred entreaties fading into the dark confines.