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'A Little More
Conversation'
Part Four -
Encourage
To do list.
Finalise council agenda, strategy and resources.
Copies = 10
Lord Círdan re. complaint, naval rations. Suggest refer D.
Not my job. Motivate.
Lord Glorfindel:
Amalek
Hillside grain, seeds, veg and herb
Re. flax.
Sketch, trolls, cows, dog, Gondolin.
Settlers.
Finish notes - Stone working after the Manner of the
Dwarves.
Learn: Harad, 3rd intermediate period, part 2!!!
Kitchen scraps for cat.
To: Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin.
Dear Lord Glorfindel,
I hope my letter finds you well, and that there was no problem
accommodating a slightly larger party than normal. I would have
preferred to send a mule-drawn cart, but this idea was rejected by
Lord Pathenien for security reasons. A few well-laden mules seemed
an acceptable alternative both to me and to Amalek, who you will
already have met.
Amalek’s family has farmed for many centuries in the region of
Harlindon where I grew up. I have cousins who live there still, and
my sister and I are regular Beltane guests. Amalek and I met at the
local midsummer fair which, falling concurrent with Beltane, is one
of the main events enjoyed by both the elven and mortal sides of the
community. On my last visit he mentioned he intended to hand over
the running of his farm to his sons – he has two - and wondered what
he would do with his days. He was delighted when I approached him
with the prospect of being a part of this venture. He is a good
person, is in his middle years (as they reckon time’s passage),
honest to the point of bluntness, and very hard working.
The grain sample turns out to be a form of wild barley, not a first
choice for elven consumption, but edible, and its presence implies
fertile soil. Amalek will have thoughts on the subject. I have
filled most of your seed order as best I can and have also included
flax seeds, to which you referred in your last letter. Flax is an
amazingly useful plant. The seeds can be eaten and used for cattle
fodder, the fibres can be woven into fine cloth, rope, even paper,
and the straw can be used for brick-making or in house daub. I found
a fascinating paper on the subject, which I enclose for your
attention.
The illustrations also indicate it produces very pretty blue
flowers. Strangely, I do not recall ever having seen them, although
I have a clear memory of the stench of the stalks soaking in the
local pond.
I think you might want to pursue a variety of building methods in
the project you have outlined to me. It would be possible, if the
limestone outcrop is of a sufficient size, to make use of it in
places that require strengthening, but there may be sufficient loose
stones for dry walling – perhaps near the river? Collecting stones
is far less arduous than cropping limestone, a task to which I think
you might be reluctant to set your civilian population as it has
implications of punishment and hard labour… and your warriors will
plainly be otherwise occupied. Besides stone, you could also include
wattle and daub, logs, wood frames… the possibilities are endless.
The result may not be of uniform design and appearance, but would
make for a uniquely eclectic mix, and be less restricted by a
possible scarcity of resources and labour.
On that subject – we have a huge influx of refugees here in Lindon,
and the Council has expressed itself in favour of sending the more
adventurous of these to Imladris. The northern lands, as you have no
doubt been told, cannot support a large population as the soil tends
to be rocky and barren and the winter temperatures extreme. As I
understand it, an increase in your population would mean expanded
skills and, of course, more hands for your farming and building
projects. It would also relieve the pressure on our over-stretched
resources here. (The price of lamp oil has more than tripled in the
last two months, due to the uneven balance between supply and
demand.) Assuming your interest, how best could we go about making
Imladris appear an attractive resettlement prospect?
I enjoyed your sketch – it was more talented than your remark led me
to expect. I thought the sharply sloping roof an excellent idea. Is
that thatch? I considered asking if the elf scrubbing himself in the
nearby stream was a self portrait, but, as there is no dog in
attendance, I assume not.
I suppose trolls could attack cows? I admit I never had cause to
give the matter much thought before. I was never entirely sure
trolls existed, but not believing in the existence of something
simply because one has not seen it is a narrow-sighted view to take
of the world, one with potentially disastrous consequences. I trust
the herd is doing well, and that the bulls have settled down and are
behaving themselves? As you gathered, I have always had a fondness
for cows – such big and yet peaceful, contented creatures. And they
have beautiful eyes, too.
In answer to your question, Lord Círdan received the warning that we
should leave Sirion – it is said that in those days he talked often
with Lord Ulmo himself. He sent a messenger ahead and then he, his
majesty, and others came with boats to help evacuate us as we did
not have anywhere near enough vessels in Sirion for the entire
population. I know I look back through a child’s eyes, but it was a
huge settlement - the survivors of the coast cities, of Nargothrond,
Doriath, and Gondolin, were all living there. By the time they
arrived from Balar, we needed no warning. The land was moving and
groaning under our feet, and the sea was higher and angrier than we
had ever seen it. When I became separated from my mother and sister,
I thought I would never see them alive again. His majesty found me
as he was leaving. I was alone and crying, so he picked me up under
his arm and took me on board his ship. Apparently I bit him.
My strongest memory, strangely, is of a house roof being blown
across a field, and of the wind howling.
Your reference to the stories we hear about your city was quite
interesting. Those who lived in Gondolin have always claimed it was
a city of immense beauty, a copy of fabled Tirion, and that life was
the epitome of the way it should be lived by elven kind on this
shore. Stories are told of food fit for kings being served even to
the lowliest stoneworker, such as roast pheasant, delicately grilled
trout, intricate desserts, and of arts and culture that make our
modern attempts pale in comparison. These and much more are outlined
in a book called Fabled Gondolin, written by Demmion, one of King
Turgon’s councillors, which is regarded as a standard work on the
subject.
I have read poetry that spoke of the ‘fair walls and gleaming spires
of doomed Sirion’ too, which, to state it politely, is a vast
exaggeration. I suppose people like to look back kindly on that
which they have lost?
Have you thought of trying to teach Háran to herd sheep, or would he
be too rough with them? I know that some mortals have dogs specially
trained to help work with them.
I enclose notes taken from a book I found on stone working as
perfected by the dwarves. How reliable the bulk of the information
is, I could not say, but I found the suggestions about drywall
building in particular very interesting. Much of this was first
applied to cities in the great cavern realms, but should be equally
applicable outside.
If Lord Elrond should happen to pass through Imladris at any point
before the messenger returns here, could you please let me know, and
ask him to send word to his majesty of his current whereabouts? We
seem to have mislaid him. Otherwise, I look forward to hearing how
matters progress.
Yours,
Erestor.
~*~*~*~*~
Dear Erestor,
Grilled trout? Bred in a fully enclosed valley high in the mountains
where the water supply froze over in winter? I am sure my mother
would have been overjoyed; she often lamented the lack of fish in
our diet. People talk the most amazing nonsense. I vaguely remember
a court scribe by the name of Demmion. Could you send me a copy of
his book? I dined at the Palace on numerous occasions, and would
love to learn more about these wondrous delicacies I somehow seem to
have missed out on.
Forgive my poor attempt at humour, but at any moment I expect the
tent to be whipped up from above me and carried off. This is our
first acquaintance here with the east wind, and after three days it
shows no sign of abating. It is currently late afternoon, the air is
dust-filled and damp with spray from the waterfall, and anything not
stringently secured has already found its way into the river or else
down the valley. Tempers are, understandably, frayed. Háran hates
it. He is sitting behind me with his nose covered by his tail and
looks as miserable as most of us feel.
The only people going about their day with any kind of comfort are
those already living across the river in the new houses – built
originally as experiments before we began more serious work here.
Which will teach us, I suppose. The need for haste in creating
permanent structures has never been more apparent. I insisted that
those with small children be given first choice of these homes, and
currently they house several adults and a horde of small children,
including Sael’s wife and his young son, Lindir. I have parted with
both of my good winter cloaks and several other items of clothing
and bedding to help make life easier over there and have encouraged
the better-provisioned of my warriors to do the same.
The way the wind funnels through here means we urgently need to
create windbreaks of some kind if we are to go on living in the
gorge. This whole experience brings to mind a certain rock passage
high in the Encircling Mountains, an important watch area, almost a
pass. When the north wind blew, patrols drew lots to see who would
brave it. I joined them on occasion – good for morale – and
cordially hated every moment. I have been sketching ideas for frames
--- I think I need to show them to Sael, see what he thinks.
(example enclosed)
I really like your idea of several building methods being used on
the main house and garrison. Not only will it speed work up
considerably, but I think it might fit well into the surroundings. I
somehow don’t see Imladris as suited to gleaming limestone facades
or even to something as warmly solid as his majesty’s rose granite
palace, though I like the permanence it suggests. The only granite I
had ever seen before was grey – part of Vinyamar was built of
granite, and very grim it looked to newcomers accustomed to the
softer shades of Tirion.
I liked Vinyamar though. I enjoyed being beside the sea.
Amalek declared our efforts to prepare beds for the vegetables to be
‘barely adequate’, but he has recruited a group of young girls who
are planting and weeding with great enthusiasm. It is his contention
that vegetables grow better for women. Would this be a mortal
superstition, do you think? He also insists planting be done during
the waxing moon. He feels the hillsides further down the valley will
benefit from a thorough clearing, turning over, and the addition of
fertiliser… heavy work, but necessary. You will be pleased to hear
he echoes your idea of driving calves down into the valley to form a
‘local herd’. He also seems to like my proposal that we terrace the
steeper areas, something we did to great effect along the western
slopes in Gondolin.
Some of the trees have to be cleared. Although the concept of
felling trees is foreign to their way of life, even the Silvans
understand the need for this and, once we decide where, they have
agreed to --- do what has to be done. We need more space for crops,
for homes, for grazing. I pray we will be able to find a good
balance between our needs and that of the forest. Amalek tells me
land that has supported trees for centuries would need several years
and a degree of care to bring it to the point where it will be
useful to us, and this is why he wants cows in the valley. He plans
to plant grass in those areas and let them graze, incidentally
fertilising the newly cleared land.
I assume we can keep the mules? It was two days’ work to get them
down here, and no one wants anything to do with a repeat performance
in the opposite direction. Anyhow, Amalek has plans for them. We
need to give more thought to that trail actually. A sure-footed
horse can easily be led down if it trusts the person doing the
leading, but we need to clear it and also make it more defensible. I
think if we could build in a couple of very sharp turns and keep
watchers stationed at all times, it would suffice.
The Council’s decision to send new arrivals in Lindon back east to
Imladris - does this mean the valley would officially become
something more than a military stronghold? As you know, I have been
advocating the garrison be coupled with a more or less permanent
civilian settlement, a sort of outpost of the King’s power, so you
certainly find me in favour. I cannot imagine why anyone would not
find the idea of living in Imladris appealing. It is a place of
great beauty, with woods and waterfalls, sheltering mountains,
arable land, and it is completely secure. The fact that development
costs are funded by His Majesty should also appeal to those many
unfortunates who lost everything to the Enemy’s advances.
No need to mention the east wind, nor the current lack of anything
more than the most primitive ablution and cooking facilities. Those
things will come – in time. The more people, the easier to expand.
Right?
That Lord Ulmo might have been in contact with Círdan hardly
surprises me. Lord Ulmo seems to quite enjoy involving himself in
our affairs, for good or for ill. The whole experience of seeing the
world turned upside down must have been appalling, and not just for
a child. I had not realised you knew His Majesty for most of your
life. Did he keep in touch while you and your family lived in
Harlindon, or did you only meet him again once you moved to
Mithlond? And – you mention a sister. Does she live with you in
Mithlond?
Yes, I can be quite annoyingly curious. I apologise in advance.
I am not certain Háran would be much use at herding sheep. He seems
to see them as playmates, lacking other dogs, and is trying to make
friends with them. Also I admit I have no idea where one would begin
with such lessons – perhaps Amalek might know? We have talked of
little beyond farming so far, but I look forward to getting to know
him better. His Sindarin is almost as strange as my own, according
to Sael. Amazing how much a language can change in less than two
millennia - though of course we spoke Quenya in society in Gondolin,
while the Sindarin we learned was from the coast dwellers who
travelled with us into the mountains. Probably unlike anything else
spoken in Middle-earth after a while. I find if people speak quickly
I still need to concentrate to follow what they are saying.
I have told everyone to keep alert for signs of Lord Elrond during
their patrols, and I will send word if we learn anything. We seldom
see him, but he regularly sends his wounded and any homeless war
victims he finds to us down here.
I hope you are well, and that things remain peaceful in Lindon
itself. I hear very little of the overall progress of the war down
here, a fact that sometimes leaves me feeling rather cut off from
events that my warrior training instinctively tells me I should be a
part of. I suppose we each have our own responsibility, and
developing this valley is mine. Thank you very much for the notes,
the books, and all the very sound and helpful advice you are so
generous in offering me. I find myself looking forward to the
courier producing the mail pouch with as much enthusiasm as the rest
of the warriors, even though I have no family or close friends over
here. I’m grateful, also, for your ongoing encouragement, which I
appreciate perhaps more than you realise. Other than your letters
and the occasional note from Lord Elrond, I seem to have been left
to get on with things here, which can be a little intimidating at
times.
Best wishes.
Glorfindel of Gondolin.
PS. No, the elf in the illustration is not a self portrait. My hair
is longer and I sadly lack the modesty to bathe in a river with half
my clothes on. And, as you so astutely noted – no dog.
Glorfindel.
~*~*~*~*~
Part 5
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Beta: Red Lasbelin |