[Ransom]

Bethberry’s mention of coffee triggered a cascade of pleasant memories. Azaziel had always associated the sharp, distinctive odor of the black liquid with the dry crackle of parchment and the soft sunlight that flowed into the small library. His father had always kept a large mug handy; especially during the long hours he spent imparting knowledge of his trade on his son. If he had done well on the arithmetic or had remembered a particularly important design feature, his father would give him a small sip. It was one of islands of peace in his otherwise stormy childhood. He could not even begin to guess how Bethberry could acquire the expensive coffee beans so far north. A pound of coffee cost a soldier a week’s pay in the towns near the garrisons along the Anduin. But, if you could buy coffee, at least you were still well enough to make the round trip.

“Certainly, if it does not trouble you too much,” replied the temporary diplomat. “It may take some time to complete the business at hand. The Counselor does have a certain list of…specifics…that he wishes us to discuss.”

Azaziel undid the clasp that secured his cloak around his neck and shoulders. The line of lead weights sown into the bottom edge bumped against each other and the chair as their owner draped the garment over the back of the chair. He had convinced his wife to make the proper adjustments after watching a fellow officer use a similar dueling cloak to great effect in a sparring match. Both occupants of the room stared at each other uncomfortably for a few seconds. His limited experience in negotiations with private citizens directed him to put most of his cards on the table. It helped to build at least a semblance of trust, even if conveniently omitted some details.

“My father was a siege engineer who served a number of nobles before ending up in the ruins of Osgiliath. He instructed me in the finer points of engineering and architecture since my childhood. I spent three terms of service in the ruined city first assisting in, and then directing the construction and placement of siege works. My commander transferred me to the embassy in Edoras as a military attaché. The ambassador requested that I do a favor on his behalf for a certain local leader.”

He paused for a moment to give the innkeeper time to digest the information. “The Counselor expressed concern because of the fire that lead to the unfortunate destruction of your stable. My sincere condolences for your loss, of course. I have seen firsthand the effects of a fire in a tight space, and it seems that he fears for the safety of the town. He did express a number of other minor issues, but most simply reflect his aesthetic preferences. Have you had any problems of a similar nature previously?”