Poison in the Citadel by Kathryn Ramage

After meeting Gefetibin, Frodo decided not to continue his inquiries with the expelled councilors. He'd found what he was looking for.

When he went up to the citadel the next day with Merry, the vast courtyard was being decorated with colorful banners and wreaths and garlands of flowers, just as the streets of the city were bestrewn.

He accompanied his cousin briefly into the Queen's boudoir to pay his respects to Arwen and Eowyn. Per Merry's suggestion, a tea table had been introduced to the room since Frodo's last visit; no one dared bring a cup near the precious tapestry and risk spilling it, but many said that the stimulant of tea enabled them to work much later into the evenings than they used to.

The ladies were all very busy, for they hoped to have the tapestry presented at the coming New Year's celebration, and lamented that they might not finish it in time. It looked to Frodo as if there wasn't much more to do; the three great tapestry panels now lay pieced together on an enormous table that had been placed in the middle of the room, so that everyone could gather around it to add smaller panels and fringes to the edges.

As the ladies worked, they talked primarily of Cirandil. Although most claimed they would never believe he'd taken part in his uncle's and cousin's murders, speculation on the possibility was rampant. While the others talked, Tharya sat silently and looked miserable; she lifted sullen, red-rimmed eyes to Frodo, as if she blamed him for her lover's flight.

When he left Merry and the ladies, Frodo sought out Aragorn in the royal chambers. Since the Council had just disbanded at midday, the King soon arrived, and Faramir with him. Frodo asked them if there'd been any news of Cirandil--and learned that Beregond was away from the city with his guardsmen on the search--then he told of them of Gefetibin's visit.

"This Gefetibin, do you believe him, Frodo?" Aragorn asked once Frodo had finished his tale. "He might've done just what his brother and friends suspect."

"Perhaps," said Frodo, "but I'd like to believe he was telling me the truth. He seems like a decent Man at heart--he didn't make the skin at the back of my neck creep when he spoke, as Broneron did. All the same, he might be just as insidious as his brother Imatibin, only more plausible. I've met pleasantly mannered murderers before."

"I know Gef well," said Faramir. "His family has served the Stewards of Gondor for years, and I've been acquainted with the three brothers from childhood. Of the three, I would have said he was the best. I believe he was treated too harshly for his allegiance to Broneron and my father. It was an allegiance I can understand, and fault no one for. I wish he had come to speak to me. I might have helped one friend in need." He was still obviously very upset over Cirandil's defection.

"If you both recommend it, I will receive him in the citadel and reconsider his case," Aragorn said. "I've no wish to be unjust to him, or any Man. I must also have a word with Imatibin."




Merry laughed when Frodo repeated this to his cousin as they were preparing for bed that evening. "And did Strider call Imatibin onto the royal carpet and give him a good scolding? Serve him right if he gets booted out of the Council! Maybe his brother will be put in his place."

"Strider hadn't summoned him yet when I left, but I expect both brothers will have their audience with the King very soon." Frodo tossed his shirt onto one of the fireside chairs and stepped out of his trousers. "There's the whole matter of the treasury funds too. I doubt it has anything to do with the murders, but now that the accusation's been made and I've brought it to Strider's attention, it has to be looked into officially. If it turns out that Councilor Imatibin was telling lies about that too, I don't see how he can keep his place on the Council." He pulled his nightshirt on over his head. "A King ought to have advisors he can trust, and Aragorn simply doesn't trust Imatibin anymore. And even though Cirandil's flown off, I haven't actually discovered the murderer yet. It might still be anybody."

There was another point, which Frodo had not brought to Aragorn's attention, but which had occurred to him while listening to Gefetibin and Erlotibin speak of their brother. He hadn't realized how much Imatibin hated Larengar and Carathir and blamed them for his brother's expulsion. Did his hatred only lead him to spread ugly rumors about them, or had he gone to greater lengths to have revenge?

"In any case, Strider would do better to wait 'til this business is finished before he makes any changes," he concluded. "He wouldn't want a murderer on his council, if he hasn't got one already."

Merry, who was fastening his own nightshirt, stopped to regard Frodo with curiosity. "Do you think it's Imatibin?"

"I couldn't say," Frodo murmured.

"You never do," his cousin answered with a grin. "You make guesses here and there, but never make definite accusations until you're absolutely sure. But I can see why you'd think the worst of the councilor, the way he carries tales. If he was the one who made rude jokes about you and Aragorn-"

"Merry..."

"Well, you did have some feelings for Strider once, didn't you? We all did, a bit, after he first took charge of us and led us off into the wilds, before we learned about his lady-love."

"Don't be ridiculous. I admire him tremendously, that's all. I couldn't think about anyone so big the way I would a hobbit," Frodo answered as he climbed up into bed. Merry pursued him, both literally and with his teasing.

"Strider is rather good-looking for one of the Bigs, even if he's got those stubbly little hairs all over his face. Have you ever wondered what'd it be like to kiss someone with a beard, Frodo? I don't fancy the idea myself--I think it'd be awful scratchy."

"Merry, do shut up." Frodo blew out the candle on the bedside table. "You know very well there's only one person I've ever loved."
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