The White Horse Inn, Act II

[Ransom]

While the nap had been too short to provide much real rest, Bethberry nonetheless felt the stress and strain caused by the day’s events recede. True, the White Horse Inn had lost an important building. True, the Inn would take a serious financial beating in the following days and weeks while a new stable was constructed. But the inn was still standing, and while there were four walls and a roof there was still hope. Despite his somewhat serious introduction, Madi proved both friendly and a little humorous. For the moment, it seemed like the world had stabilized.

Reality came knocking hard on the wooden door. Something struck the wood twice before an overly loud voice inquired, “Is there a lady named Bethberry here? The cook downstairs said I could find you here. I’m afraid I have some…matters…to discuss with you.”

Bethberry groaned before quickly organizing her writing implements. She ventured to hope that the new interruption had some good news. Madi, on the hand, simply yawned and shifted position on the bench. After all, why worry yourself over a unpredictable and capricious future? Depositing the book back to its proper resting place, Bethberry addressed the new visitor. “Do come in.”

Azaziel Danwedh gently nudged the door open before smoothly slipping through the resulting crack. For the most part, he seemed like a short but otherwise completely normal man. He smoothed back a unruly lock of brown hair with his left hand before leaning an usually shaped package against the wall next to the door. It remotely resembled a walking stick with some of large object on the top, but a layer of white cloth precluded any further deductions. Despite the gradually warming weather, the new arrival still wore a worn green cloak that only partially masked the insignia on the front of his black shirt that declared his allegiance to Gondor.

He grimaced slightly before introducing himself in a slightly quieter voice. It seemed that Azaziel was incapable of communicating in a quite voice. “I apologize deeply for my sudden appearance, sir and ma’am. My name is Azaziel Danwedh. One of the local officials, Counselor Hasin, has requested that I present him with my professional opinion of any new stable that you wish to build.”

“And what profession would that be,” inquired the innkeeper, “and what does the esteemed Counselor have to do with this?”

Azaziel shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. He was clearly not enjoying the conversation very much. But at the very least she deserved some answer. “I specialized in the construction of buildings and…other…structures in Gondor. My superior in your wonderful city of Edoras asked me to do a favor for one of his local friends. From my conversation with the Counselor, it seems that he is concerned about the safety of the district after the fire in the stable. He wishes that I examine any blueprints and plans as well as the building during construction.”

This was definitely a bad way to meet his neighbors.