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In the High King's Secret Service  by Fiondil

41: Interviews and Explanations

Valandur was just dismissing his semiotics class later that day when he received a visitor.

“Sairon! Welcome.”

Sairon gave him a bow. “Thank you, Loremaster. I promised you an answer to your invitation and I also bring you this from Guildmaster Lirilissë.” He handed Valandur some foolscaps, folded over and sealed with wax.

Valandur took it with a nod, slitting open the seal and perusing the two pages, looking for one name, finding it at the bottom of the last page. “Thank you,” he said, folding the pages. “So what have you decided?”

“I spoke with Amammírë and some others whom Ingwë recruited. They assured me that the High King has never asked them to actually spy on people or to ferret out their secrets and violate their privacy, but simply to keep both eyes and ears open to what was happening around them and to use their musical talents to write ditties that express a particular point of view or sentiment that the High King wishes to present to the populace without it being known that it comes from him.”

“And is this something you think you can do?” Valandur asked. “I assure you that if all you feel you are capable of doing is passing along information and want nothing to do with writing ditties or singing them in public, that is perfectly fine. We don’t need every minstrel in Vanyamar roaming the streets singing the same songs at the top of their lungs.”

Sairon chuckled and Valandur grinned.

“No. That would be rather obvious even to the slowest person,” Sairon said. “Amammírë told me that even that is not something that is done all the time, but only when Ingwë so orders it.”

“His Majesty is wise enough to know when to speak and when not to, or when to have others do the same on his behalf,” Valandur said. “So, are you in?”

Sairon nodded. “Yes, I’m in. I wasn’t sure at first, but Amammírë convinced me that what you are asking of us does not in any way impugn our honor. We minstrels have little enough of that within our own guild, never mind elsewhere.” His tone was more rueful than bitter.

“And that may change,” Valandur said. “I should tell you that Ingwë wanted to recruit you from the first, but as you had already taken contract with Lord Lassezel, he felt it unfair to try to lure you away.”

“But I am still employed by Lord Lassezel,” Sairon pointed out, “so what’s changed?”

“Me,” Valandur replied with a grin. “I pointed out to His Majesty that people like you, who are employed by the nobles and merchant-princes, are in a unique position to gather information in settings where these people congregate and you are expected to attend due to your particular position.”

“Then you do intend for me to spy on my master and his friends,” Sairon countered with a look of disgust.

“No, Sairon. I want you to simply keep your eyes and ears open. Go about your duties, but if you hear or see anything that you think needs to be brought to Ingwë’s attention then you tell me. You need not name names and indeed I do not care who says what to whom, only that it is being said. Do you understand?”

The minstrel nodded slowly. “I think I do.”

“Good. Then, if you are still willing to join our little cadre of information gatherers, I would welcome you and gladly.”

“And would I be able to disassociate myself from your organization if I feel I can no longer do what you want me to?”

“I will not bind anyone against their wills. If after a time you feel you cannot in good conscience continue, then you are free to go your own way. I will probably only insist on invoking guild secrecy to protect, not only others, but you.”

“That is only to be expected and I have no problems with that. So, for now, count me in.”

Valandur smiled warmly. “Then welcome and thrice welcome.”

Now Sairon looked a bit shy and uncertain. “So, what do I do?”

“For now, continue as you have been. Nothing has changed in your duties to your lord. Now, Guildmaster Lirilissë has given me a list of all those presently holding the rank of Minstrel. Let us look it over together and you can give me your thoughts on them. It does not appear to be a very long list, so I’m assuming you must know most of these people.”

“We are a rather exclusive club,” Sairon said with a mirthless grin. “We periodically foregather to commiserate and console one another for being failures.”

Valandur frowned. “Let me make one thing clear to you, Sairon, and you can pass this on to whomever. You minstrels are not failures. Yes, you failed to pass the exams leading to bardship, but that is not the same thing as being a failure. Those exams are extremely difficult and it’s amazing that as many people pass as do. I know, for my atar is a bard and I have heard all about it. The fact that you did not pass those exams is unfortunate, but not the end of the world. Each of you was able to move on, to accept your loss and to find honorable work utilizing what musical skills you have for the benefit of others. There is no shame in that. If others look down on you, that is their problem, not yours. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, Loremaster,” Sairon said quietly.

“Good, and it’s Valandur. Now, let us take a look at this list. Come, we’ll retire to my rooms where we will have more privacy.” With that, they left the classroom and Valandur led Sairon to his rooms where he offered the ellon some tea before they sat down to peruse the list together. Sairon actually knew most of the people on the list and was able to give Valandur valuable insights into their personalities. Valandur took careful notes of all that the minstrel said. When they reached the end of the list, he pointed to the last name.

“What do you know of Mistress Lirimíriel?”

Sairon shrugged. “Nothing, actually. I do not recall anyone by that name at any of our gatherings, and I am pretty sure I’ve met all those who are minstrels even if I do not know them well. Amammírë might know or perhaps one of the others.”

“Hmm… well, according to this notation against her name she does not reside in the city, so it’s possible she is unaware that you minstrels do gather together on occasion. Well, no matter. I will seek her out. Now, it is nearly time for the daymeal. Would you join me?”

“I would be honored.”

“I will show you where you may freshen up if you wish.” Valandur took the list and put it in a drawer of his desk before they left his rooms.

****

On Menelya, after conducting the lesson with a very exuberant Indil, Valandur left the city, taking the west gate out and into the farmland that provided fresh produce for the city. The land was not as rich as that in the Southern Fiefdoms, but it was arable enough and supplied the Vanyar with immediate needs, primarily grain for flour and those fruits and vegetables that thrived in cooler climes. There was no village, merely a scattering of farmhouses and barns. There was, however, a central hall where the farmers and their families met for social purposes and where the children were schooled. It was there that Valandur was headed.

He walked along the road, past the traveler’s well where the west road met up with the road that swung northeastward to continue on to Ilmarin and southward to Valmar. Beyond the well, the road was unpaved, becoming a country lane pleasantly lined with beeches and old-growth oaks as it wound through the farms. About three miles from the city he came upon a more open area where he saw a large hall alongside two grain silos and a mill powered by a narrow stream that originated in the far north and made its way westward to empty out into the Ekkaia.

As Valandur approached the hall, he could hear the sound of children singing and smiled as he recognized the song. It was the Lay of First Meeting that described the discovery of the Quendi by the Vala Oromë on the dark shores of Helcar where the Elves first awoke. He stopped to listen to the sweet voices, not quite blending as was typical with children, but lovely to hear in their innocence and delight in singing. As the children came to the part where the Three Ambassadors were chosen, their voices ceased. Valandur entered the hall through one of the willow arches, stopping just inside.

The hall was circular and perhaps two hundred paces in diameter. It was created entirely out of willow trees shaped into a dome structure, the willows bundled together to form the arches and roof. Inside, the light was dim and green. Valandur saw a group of elflings, perhaps about twenty altogether, sitting on mats in a circle, listening to an elleth standing in the center as she commented on their singing.

Lirimíriel — for there was no doubt in Valandur’s mind that this was Lirilissë’s twin, so similar in features was she to the guildmaster — spoke quietly, praising the children for their efforts and encouraging them to learn the next section of the lay. Then she dismissed them and the children rose, giving their teacher a bow before bending down to roll up their reed mats and make their way in twos and threes through the various arches. Two children passed Valandur, giving him curious looks which he returned with a warm smile, but as he did not speak the children properly did not address him first, only giving him bows before exiting. Valandur approached Lirimíriel, who was speaking with one child who had lingered behind. The ellon nodded at whatever Lirimíriel told him and ran off to catch up with his companions.

“Mistress Lirimíriel?” Valandur enquired.

The elleth turned, giving him a quizzical look. “Yes?”

“I am Loremaster Valandur Voronwion. I understand that your sister is the guildmaster for the Bards’ Guild.”

Lirimíriel’s expression turned cold. “Did she send you?”

“No. The High King did.”

That stopped her for a moment and her expression became less hostile. “And why would the High King send you to me? I do not even know the High King.”

“And he does not know you except as a rumor,” Valandur replied with a faint smile. “Is there somewhere where we may go that is less public? I do not fancy having to stand here in the middle of this hall to speak with you on a private matter.”

For a moment, the elleth just stood there, giving Valandur a searching look. He did not flinch or lower his gaze but kept a calm and friendly expression on his face, hoping to allay any concerns. Finally, she nodded. “My house is not far from here. Would you care for some tea?”

He smiled and gave her a gracious bow. “I would be honored.” He followed her out of the hall and she led him past the mill and along a side path that followed the stream north past copses of beeches and willows until they arrived in a small clearing where a cottage sat in the midst of a garden in full bloom. The cottage was small, only two rooms with the front room serving as a kitchen and sitting room and a bedroom in the back. Lirimíriel gestured for Valandur to take a seat at the table that was in the center of the room while she put the kettle on and began preparing the tea.

“So what does the High King want with me?” she asked as she puttered about, putting some ginger biscuits on a plate and bringing it to the table, along with cups and saucers.

“His Majesty learned recently about how the rank of Minstrels was formed and why,” Valandur answered, taking one of the biscuits and nibbling on it. “He was most disturbed and asked me to look into the matter further. He would like to hear your side of the story.”

Lirimíriel did not reply immediately, her expression set as she dealt with the tea, a pleasing blend of different mints that brightened the air and soothed the soul. She finally sat down opposite Valandur, pouring the tea as she spoke.

“I was devastated when I learned I had failed the exams and for a long while I hated my sister for passing them when I knew she had only joined the guild for my sake. It took me a long time to get over my feelings of unworthiness and even despair. I felt like such a failure and wondered why I had been given this gift for a love of music but was unable to utilize it to the fullest. I thought of even joining a different guild or moving to Eldamas and taking service with the Valar, but then the farmers asked the guild to send someone to teach their children music. They did not want journeymen who come and go. They wished for someone who was willing to stay.” She snorted in derision. “No bard would bother with such a menial task so I applied and was accepted. I really did not wish to remain in Vanyamar any longer.”

She paused to take a sip of tea, her expression becoming more gentle and she smiled. Valandur realized that he had never seen the guildmaster smile. Lirimíriel’s smile was warm and genuine and it lit up her face. “They were so grateful and the children so eager,” she said, continuing her narrative. “The farmers actually built this cottage for me and their wives and daughters helped me to plant the garden.”

“And you were content,” Valandur said, making it more a statement than a question.

“To a degree. I still regretted my failure, but the farmers and their children were so appreciative of me and I found that I actually enjoyed teaching. After a while, the regret lessened and I hardly think on it anymore. I’ve made a life for myself here with these people. The folks in the city might look down on them as unsophisticated, but they have an honest warmth about them that is open and nonjudgmental. It did not matter to them that I did not achieve bardship. That I was a gifted musician and capable of teaching their children and instill in them a love for music was all that mattered to them.”

“Your sister said she created the rank of Minstrel for you,” Valandur stated. “She also said you rejected her offer to rejoin the guild.”

“I know Liri created the rank for me, to give me a second chance at becoming a bard, but she failed to understand that I had moved beyond that. Becoming a bard wasn’t the be-all and end-all of my existence. I was genuinely happy being where I was and doing what I was doing. I no longer had any desire to become a bard. It was not that important to me. Unfortunately, Liri thought I was rejecting her when I refused to return to the guild. She changed the entire parameters of the rank and then made it so that anyone who wanted to teach professionally had to at least hold the rank of Minstrel. She forced me to join. I have never forgiven her for that. We have not spoken to one another since and I made it clear at the outset that I resented her high-handedness.”

“That is pretty much as Lirilissë said when the High King pressed for answers about the guild and the minstrels.”

Lirimíriel gave him a puzzled look. “Why would he care? It’s an internal matter of the guild over which he has no claim. I do not approve, and while I hold the rank of Minstrel, I have nothing else to do with the guild. I do not attend guild councils nor do I report to the guildmaster for assignments. I made that all perfectly clear to Liri when she forced me to join. I am a music teacher for the children of these farmers and that is all I wish to be.”

“And that is perfectly fine with Ingwë and with me, but let me explain what the High King is hoping to do with the minstrels. First off, he does plan to have the rank revised so that it is no longer a terminal position, but an intermediary position between journeyman and master, just as your sister originally perceived it.” He then went on to explain about the minstrels and what role Ingwë saw for them and what Valandur’s role in all this was. When he finished, Lirimíriel did not immediately respond, her expression thoughtful.

“And you are seeking to recruit me, as well?” she finally asked.

“That is certainly a possibility and I would welcome your addition to our little organization. You are in a unique situation here and Ingwë is as concerned about how the farmers view matters as he is about those in the city. But that is your decision and you are not required to make it this very moment. Think about it and then you can contact me at the Academy and let me know one way or the other. However, my primary purpose in coming here was to hear your side of the story about what has passed between you and your sister. Ingwë wished to corroborate that what Lirilissë told us was the truth in its entirety.”

“Well, you have certainly given me much to think about. I cannot give you an answer now, but I promise I will give you one soon.”

“Thank you.” Valandur rose, looking down at the elleth and giving her a sympathetic look. “I am sorry that things have gone ill between you and your sister. I hope someday you will be reconciled with one another. The gift of family is too precious to throw away.”

“What will happen to Liri?” she asked as she saw him to the door.

“Nothing, as far as I know. If the other masters feel she needs to step down as guildmaster and another be put in her place that is their business. Ingwë is only concerned that the minstrels should not be punished out of pique because you and your sister have had a falling out.”

“And for that I am sorry. Perhaps I was wrong to have dismissed Liri’s offer, but it smacked too much of patronization and I could not abide that.”

“I understand. I bid you a fair day.” With that, he gave her a bow and headed back toward the city, mulling over what he had learned.

****

He was still mulling over his conversation with Lirimíriel when he joined his parents and siblings for the daymeal on Valanya. Almost before he was inside the door, his atar gave him a strange look.

“Something is going on in the Bards’ Guild and I get the impression that you are involved.”

“Oh? And in what way?” Valandur countered, refusing to admit to anything at this point.

“Now, yonya, I’m your atar and I know when one of my children is being evasive. Tell me what is going on.”

“Why don’t you tell me first what you know or think you know and then I will explain if I can,” Valandur suggested.

“You can discuss this at the table, you two,” his ammë said, coming from the kitchen. Marilla gave them both a look of loving exasperation. “Come greet your sisters, Val, and then let us eat before all the food goes cold.”

Valandur gave his ammë a hug and a kiss and then greeted his sisters — Yávien, Ailinel, and Arwen — giving them their proper due. Voronwë sat impatiently, waiting for the amenities which his wife insisted on to be over before he dominated the conversation. “As I said, something is up. Lirilissë returned from her interview with the High King in a fury but she’s refused all audiences and has had her assistant handle daily affairs while she remains sequestered.”

“And why do you think I know anything about it or have anything to do with whatever has your guildmaster in a tizzy?”

“Oh, come now, Val,” Voronwë retorted. “I wasn’t born yesterday. You are doing more than just tutoring the princess. You’re a loremaster, not a teacher of children.”

“I’m both, Atar, but you are correct that the High King wishes for me to be involved with other matters concerning the kingdom, but I’m not at liberty to speak about it. Suffice to say that I was present when he had his audience with your guildmaster and we learned some disturbing things concerning the minstrels.”

“What about them?” Voronwë asked with a dismissive wave of a hand. “They are just failures and—”

“No! They are not failures!” Valandur nearly shouted angrily. His family looked on him in surprised shock. “Yes, yes, I know they failed to pass the master’s exams but so what? They are still talented musicians who have studied well and hard all that you and the other masters were willing to teach them. They’re competent musicians who provide a useful service in entertaining the populace or teaching children and there’s nothing shameful in that. What you may not know, Atar, is that Lirilissë originally conceived the rank of Minstrel as an intermediary rank between journeyman and master. All journeymen would need to pass the preliminary exams to be accorded the rank of minstrel before they could attempt the more advanced exams for bardship. It was meant to give those who did not pass the exams initially the opportunity to try again if they wished or they would remain minstrels but would be allowed to advance administratively if they desired.”

“So what happened?” Voronwë asked.

“A long story, but the end result was as you have it with the minstrels seen as second-class citizens and treated as such by the rest of the guild. That has to stop. There’s no need for these people to have their failures thrown in their faces every time they turn around. They are good people and Ingwë recognizes their worth even if no one else does.”

There was a tense silence between father and son which was broken by Marilla. “I never liked Lirilissë. There was always a coldness about her that did not sit well with me. I avoided her as much as possible.”

“Which is why your ammë comes up with one excuse or another for not accompanying me to guild functions,” Voronwë said with a small smile. Valandur and his sisters sniggered, knowing full well how much Marilla hated guild functions, even those of her own guild.

“Boring affairs, all of them,” she sniffed dismissively. Then she gave Valandur a look he knew too well and tried not to squirm under her regard. “And when were you going to tell us that you’d been asked to speak at the Academy’s next convocation?”

“I did,” Valandur protested. “I told Atar.”

“But you did not tell me,” Marilla pointed out.

“Sorry, ammë,” Valandur said contritely.

Marilla nodded, satisfied that she’d gotten her point across. “Well, congratulations are in order and for more than one of our children. Arwen has been accepted into the Illuminators’ Guild. We just received the news yesterday.”

Valandur grinned at his youngest sibling, who blushed prettily. “That is wonderful news, Sister! Congratulations!”

“So we have much to celebrate, then,” Voronwë said, lifting his wine goblet. “To Val for being chosen to present a paper to the Academy and to Arwen for becoming an apprentice Illuminator.”

“Hear, hear,” the rest of the family said as they lifted their own goblets while Valandur and Arwen smiled shyly at one another across the table.

****

Note: The description of the willow hall is based on real world structures. Google ‘Auerworld Palace’ and ‘Sanfte Strukturen’ to see examples. My thanks to Sunny for sending me the links. 





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