When they left the garrison hall, Frodo and Beregond went to the citadel and, in the counsel-closet of the royal chambers, reported to the King with Gandalf and Faramir present. Frodo repeated what he'd told Beregond on their walk up through the city and expanded upon it.
"Cirandil confessed to me, but not to any crime. That's not what he refused to tell his captain or his fellow guards. He fled in fear of his life, and is ashamed to have you know. He's afraid you'll scorn him as a coward. He'd rather be thought a murderer than that." He showed them the note, which Cirandil had given him.
"Why did he tell you, Frodo?" asked Faramir as the Men and wizard passed the note from one to the other, each reading it in turn with expressions of surprise and alarm.
"He said it was because I'm no soldier myself. He hoped I wouldn't judge his actions so harshly as you Big, brave Men might." Frodo smiled up at the tall Men who towered over him. "Hobbits understand the value of hiding when faced with overwhelming danger."
"I do not blame him for his flight," said Beregond. "One cannot do battle with a poisoner as one would another foe. But why did he not tell us when he received this note, or show it to me, instead of running away without a word?"
"I don't know," said Frodo. "Perhaps he didn't wanted to reveal his love for Tharya to anyone who hadn't guessed already. They've gone to such trouble to keep it a secret 'til now. Or perhaps he thought no one would believe him."
"Do you believe him, Frodo?" Gandalf asked.
"Yes, I do," he admitted. "I've no proof. It's only my belief, now that I've seen him and spoken with him. Cirandil is telling the truth."
"He could have written this note himself," the wizard observed. "The script is formed in a most peculiar manner, as if the writer intended to disguise his hand."
"You're right. It may be so. It may be all sham, or madness, but I think he's genuinely terrified that he'll become the poisoner's next victim. Beregond will tell you how he's refused to eat since he was captured and brought back to the city."
"Do you want me to order Cirandil's release?" asked Aragorn.
Frodo found it gratifying to realize that the King would do just as he advised, and accept Cirandil's guilt or innocence at a word from him. "No," he answered, "I think it's best to keep him where he is for now. If I'm right, then it's the safest place for him to be. Captain Beregond can ensure that he's well-protected there and that all food that goes in to him is untainted. If I'm wrong, then he ought to remain under guard."
When he left this private conference, Frodo went to the Queen's boudoir. He had one last task to perform in the citadel: to see Tharya and warn her as Cirandil had asked him to.
Tharya was not in the citadel. The ladies who attended the Queen were talking excitedly about the news of Cirandil's arrest, but they informed him that Tharya had gone home earlier in the day, claiming that she hadn't felt well. Several of the ladies looked as if they understood what had disturbed her so.
Frodo went down to Larengar's house, which was only a few doors down the street from Gandalf's. When he knocked on the front door and asked to see Lady Tharya, he was admitted to the house by a servant and shown to a plaza on the other side, very like the one behind Gandalf's house. Tharya sat on a marble bench in her black dress and veil, staring out over the fields far below and beyond the city walls. For the first time, she looked as if she were truly in mourning.
When she saw her visitor, she rose from her seat and whirled upon him. "Is it true, Frodo? They've arrested Cir?" Her eyes flashed at him accusingly. "Did you tell them to do this?"
"His arrest was not my doing, Lady," Frodo answered. "When Cirandil fled the city, even those who most believed in his innocence began to doubt. The King ordered him to be kept prisoner once he was found, unless he could give a good account of himself."
"Didn't he?" she asked. "What did he say when they captured him? He didn't confess?"
"He said nothing to Captain Beregond, who questioned him," he told her. "I've seen him since. He told me that he fled the city to save your life, and his own."
"My life?" Her eyes went wide.
"He claims you both have been threatened by the poisoner. He has a note he says he received. He showed it to me, and I've taken it to the King. If they keep him under guard now, it's as much for his own protection as any other reason."
"Then you don't think he's guilty." Tharya looked relieved, then horrified. "But who-? Who would do such a thing? Why threaten us?"
"I don't know. I hoped you might help me to find out. Who knows of your love for each other, Lady Tharya, besides me? Have you confided in any of your friends among the maidens, or would Cirandil tell his friends in the Guard?" Frodo prompted.
"No," she answered, and her lips twisted wryly. "No secrets can be kept within the citadel, even among friends. You must have seen how everyone gossips and carries tales. Cir and I said nothing, but someone must have guessed."
"What about your father? Does he know?"
Tharya laughed. "Father spoke to me of Cir only the day before he fled. He said he didn't believe Cir had had a part in his uncle's death and what did I think of him? I understood why he asked, and what match he intended to propose now Caradan is dead, but I answered only that Cir had always been a friend to me. I was fond of him and hoped his innocence could be proved. But that was before Cir left the city. Father hasn't said another word about him for good or ill since." Then she turned to Frodo with a new eagerness. "You've seen Cir. How is he?"
"He is unharmed," Frodo told her, "but he's frightened for both of himself and for you. He won't eat, lest he be poisoned. He asks you to do the same: take care what you eat and drink, and take only what others do."
"I shall," the lady agreed.
"And what about you, Frodo?" Merry asked him that evening. "Are you going to take Cirandil's advice too?" The two hobbits were cuddled together in one large chair in the sitting room, waiting for Gandalf to return from the citadel so they could have their dinner. Frodo had just told his cousin all that had happened that day.
"I think I'd better." Frodo snuggled more tightly into his cousin's arms. "It's a terrible thing to consider, Merry. Poison. I've never had a fear for what I might eat or drink before, but now that I am afraid, everything looks dangerous. It quite takes your appetite away. I can understand why Cirandil fled as he did, rather than eat a single bite while he remained in the city."
"You should be safe with tonight's dinner," said Merry. "It's roast chicken, with potatoes and carrots. Not a soup or sauce in sight. Our cook'll be insulted if she hears you're afraid of poison. She'll take it personally, and it couldn't be her."
"No, but to be safest, I suppose I ought to eat only what you cook for me, Merry, or what you and Gandalf eat. A wizard can't be poisoned, can he? They aren't even mortal, as we are. But it's all the more important I find this poisoner, before he kills someone else."
"Since you don't think it's Cirandil anymore, who do you think it is?"
Who indeed? Frodo had been puzzling over this since his visit to Cirandil. If Cirandil was telling the truth, then the poisoner was still at large and ready to strike again. But who could it be? And why had he or she emerged so blatantly from hiding to threaten the young Man? Was it to drive him away from the girl he loved? He said as much to Merry.
"Perhaps he wants to marry Tharya too," Merry suggested in reply. "This person might've got Caradan out of the way so he could have her for himself, but he didn't learn that she was truly in love with Cirandil 'til recently, so he has to go too."
"But who know about them, besides us?"
"Well, anybody in the citadel might've found them out as you did, Frodo, the way those two have been carrying on."
"Why send a note to Cirandil, rather than kill him outright?" Frodo wondered. "This person is responsible for three murders already. He's struck before with no word of warning. Why give warning this time? And why, if he's after Tharya, would he kill Councilor Carathir?"
"Carathir wanted Tharya to marry his son, and wouldn't want her to wed anyone else."
"Yes, but it wasn't his say. Wouldn't it make more sense to kill her father, who might stand in the way?" Frodo fell into musing. "Or ruin him." An unpleasant thought had just occurred to him: Imatibin was not married, nor were his brothers. They were a little older than Caradan and Cirandil, but must also have known Tharya all her life. Could one of them have desired her, and both her father and Carathir refused in Caradan's favor? Was this at the heart of the hostility between the families as much as any political scandal or intrigue? Was one motive somehow mixed up with the other?
He was still turning this idea over his mind when Gandalf came in. The two hobbits drew quickly apart, startled, even though Gandalf had certainly seen them cuddling before, but the wizard took no notice. They went in to dinner but, in spite of Merry's assurances and offers to taste his food for him, Frodo could eat little.
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