[Mithadan]

At the urging of Mahat and Seft, Mithadan set out for the palace. But at the outskirts of the market he made one last stop at the stand of a vendor of spirits. There, he ordered three casks, two large and one small, of a potent local liquor made from fermented berries. These he had delivered to the Lonely Star together with a note instructing that they not be opened.

When they arrived at the palace, Mithadan had an hour and a bit more to spare before the reception was to begin. He washed away the grit and sweat of the day and dressed quickly in his best outfit; grey breeches and a white shirt with a royal blue jacket. He was shining his boots when Airefalas entered. His face was a bit grim.

"You've not left yourself much time," Mithadan commented with raised eyebrows.

"I was enjoying some time at a local Inn with Raal," Airefalas responded. "He likes his wine very much and his tongue loosens a bit when lubricated. It seems that our hosts are very proud of their skills as pirates preying upon the ships of Gondor." He went on to relate the story of Falasmir's involvement in the seizure of his last command, the Amarantha. "But Raal insists that there indeed is a caravan approaching."

Mithadan sighed and shook his head. "We are here under Falasmir's own protection," he said. "We must assume that he has no ill intentions towards us. At least we must give the impression of trust, even if we keep our eyes wide open for any threat that may arise."

"Walking open eyed into the spider's web is not my idea of a good situation," Airefalas grumbled as he prepared to bathe. "And it is not of much solace to me that our King will object if we are taken for oarsmen aboard a corsair."

Mithadan waited as his mate readied himself for the dinner. He reappeared soon enough, dressed and rubbing his hair with a towel. "Was your trip to the market profitable?" asked Airefalas.

"Good enough," came the reply. "But we must consider our meeting with the traders."

"What do you wish to purchase?" queried the younger man as he sat beside his captain.

Mithadan considered this question for a moment before aswering. "Furs, fine cloth, herbs and spices...light goods." He passed a purse heavy with gold and silver coins over to Airefalas.

"The wines here are excellent," Airefalas responded. "And they have an exceedingly fine oil pressed from the green fruits of a tree. There would be a good market for such items in Gondor."

Mithadan shook his head and raised his eyes to meet those of his first mate. "I want to travel light on our return," he said. Airefalas nodded as his captain stood. "We will have opportunity to buy such goods next time...if we come back."

At that moment, there came a knock upon the door. Seft entered with a slight bow. "The reception begins," he said. "Come with me, please."

The area around the fountain in the courtyard had been cleared and the many potted plants which had been there were replaced with tables and chairs. Lanterns hung from brackets on the walls and from poles that had been raised around the fountain. The tables were laden with food of every description; meats and fish, breads and fruits, and platters of vegetables and spreads. A harpist sat in the corner strumming and plucking at his strings.

As they entered, a servant handed them each a goblet of chilled wine, golden in color like springwater reflecting the morning sun. A squat balding man in red robes approached as they sipped appreciatively.

"That wine is made from grapes which grow on the coastal lands just north of here," he said as he shook their hands. "There is a red wine which is easily its match in flavor. It will be in great demand in the north I think."

Mithadan nodded with a smile and complimented the color and savor of the drink. Airefalas inquired about crops and seasons even as other traders approached, some accompanied by servants bearing chests from which to display their goods. As they chatted, Mithadan's hand dropped into his pocket. His fingers found the carved wooden figurine of an eagle with a woman's head...