The next morning, Frodo returned to the citadel. There were more guards on duty than there'd been the day before, as part of the stricter watch to protect those who lived within the citadel, but the guard stationed at the door to the great hall knew who the hobbit was. When Frodo asked to see Aragorn, he was escorted immediately up to the King's chambers, where a page announced him.
The King and Queen were still in their private apartments, just as Frodo as hoped, but were not at breakfast. By all appearances, they had just finished.
"I don't mean to interrupt," Frodo said apologetically once his escort had shown him into the room. "I was hoping to speak to you alone, Strider, before you went to the Council. They're partly what I want to talk to you about. You said you'd give me whatever aid I needed-"
"Yes, of course, Frodo." If Aragorn found such a request odd first thing in the morning, he gave no sign of it. They went into the council closet for a private conversation.
"I want to know about Councilor Carathir," Frodo explained. "After all, this began with his death. I have to think that his was therefore the most important murder, from the murderer's point of view. The son was only killed afterwards. Was it simply because he was his father's child? Or perhaps he knew something that endangered his father's murderer, and must also be got out of the way. We must start this investigation by listing everyone who would gain by the councilor's death."
After listening to Merry, Aragorn was accustomed to hobbits' fast-flowing bursts of speech. "You wish to make a list?"
"Sam would write one out for me, to be methodical," Frodo answered with a small smile. "We needn't do that, but we must consider the question, and take into account everyone who could reasonably be an answer to it. You can tell me what others might not. They'll wish to speak well of the dead, and no one will dare say anything that might draw suspicion to themselves."
"Yes, I see..." Aragorn thought about this for a minute. "Though Faramir does not like to hear it spoken, there is, of course, Cirandil."
"And who else?" Frodo prompted. "Are there other members of the family? Cirandil is heir now his cousin is dead. Who's next in line?"
"I believe the line ends with him."
"Was Lord Carathir a widower? No one's mentioned a wife."
"The lady of Carathir died when Caradan was a boy."
"Could he have had a mistress?"
"Frodo!" Aragorn was shocked at the question, then he laughed. "I know nothing dishonorable of Carathir's private life. Besides, I believe he was long past such... passions."
"It might have happened years ago, a woman he'd loved and cast aside, perhaps misled with promises of marriage. She would be an old woman now too." Though he didn't say so to Aragorn, Frodo was thinking of Bregilde. Had the herbalist and councilor shared a mutual past that made her bear him and his family a grudge even after many years? Could that be the reason why she'd agreed to help someone else take revenge against the family, or had taken revenge herself?
As he spoke, the King regarded him with amused astonishment. "I never guessed you had such a vivid imagination, Frodo."
"Gandalf tells me it's a valuable quality," Frodo rejoined. "It helps me to see all the possibilities. Very well. No mistresses." Now that he had cleared the ground of other suspects, he broached the ones he had come here to talk especially to Aragorn about. "Shall we consider your councilors then? You must know something of their characters and their history, Strider--what can you tell me about them? Did Carathir have enemies or rivals among them?"
Aragorn was suddenly alert. "You suspect one of the Council? Who is it, Frodo?"
"I don't suspect anyone in particular yet," Frodo admitted, "but I have to consider them, as close acquaintances of Carathir. That's something I've learned from my other investigations: you must be willing to consider everybody. You can't simply say, 'It's impossible for this person to have committed a murder--he or she would never do such a thing.' You have to imagine, 'What if they did?'"
"Yes, I see." Aragorn nodded. "It is a wise course, though I fear it will upset and offend many people."
"It's offended many hobbits, but it had to be done. I've had to question members of my own family, some of them very dear to me, but I couldn't refuse to look for the truth even when it was unpleasant," Frodo told him. "I believe it's why Captain Beregond's investigation didn't succeed: he wasn't able to search the right places for the answers he needed. He couldn't question the Council, could he? Their position protects them--they'd refuse to answer any questions they didn't like. But they have suspicions amongst themselves. You do know, don't you, Strider, that they suspect one another of committing these crimes?"
"I've seen the looks that have passed between them since Carathir's death," Aragorn acknowledged.
"I have reasons to think one of them hired someone with knowledge of poisons to act for him." Frodo would only say that much, even to Aragorn, until he was more sure that Methilde was right. "Which ones do you think are most likely? Who had reason to be glad to see him gone from the Council? Did you give Carathir any special appointments or favors that the others might resent?"
"No, none. He'd been Keeper of the city's treasury for more than fifty years. Since he proved himself trustworthy with so much gold, I deemed it best that he should hold his place for as long as he wished it."
"Carathir was an honest Man?"
"Undoubtedly. He was stubborn about clinging to the old ways and traditions, and found it hard to accept the new. He was very proud of his family line and its long service to Gondor. His sense of duty to the city never wavered."
"Who keeps the treasury now?"
"Carathir's secretary has taken his duties in the treasure-house, but he does not sit on the Council. I must appoint a new treasurer."
"If he was a Man who clung to old ways, I suppose Carathir often disagreed with the younger and more modern-thinking councilors?" Frodo was thinking of Hilabar and Imatibin, who were the youngest members of the Council with the exception of Faramir, and from what he'd heard today, had the sharpest tongues.
"Many argued with him, naturally. Carathir and Lord Larengar were especially vociferous, but they were also old friends. You must understand, Frodo, that debates within the Council can become very heated when each party is certain that he and he alone is right. I sometimes fear that they'll come to blows in anger, but they never do."
"Did you appoint them all to their places? I noticed that some are old Men, and I guess that they served Lord Denethor before you."
"Yes, almost half of the Council who served in Denethor's day still advise me," Aragorn answered. "I thought they knew the business of governing a great city better than I, and I retained all who were known to have done good service. Only those who deemed unfit were dismissed."
"Such as who? Can you tell me their names?"
"There was Garamant, who drank to excess and rarely attended the Council, and was never in a fit state when he did appear. And Bifilir, who was in his dotage and slept through the meetings." Aragorn was silent and thoughtful for a moment, then he said, "In the final days of Denethor's stewardship, the best men of the Council did all they could to check his madness. When he would do nothing to prepare the city's defenses, they tried to dissuade him and offered advice that he refused to hear. Against their Lord's decrees, they did what they could to see that provision was made for the city's protection. But there were others... Broneron was their leader."
"Broneron?" Frodo repeated the name.
"He was Head of the Council at that time. His family had risen to prominence during the days of the most recent Stewards. Perhaps he thought of it as a sign of loyalty, but he stood by Denethor in all he did and fed the worst of his madness. If others, such as Carathir or Larengar, worked to protect the city, Broneron worked against them, as Denethor had decreed that nothing should be done. He, and the others who stood with him and worked for the city's fall, were expelled from the Council when I assumed my throne."
"Do you think he might seek revenge against Carathir and his family since you dismissed him?"
"He might," Aragorn admitted, "if he believed that Carathir was responsible for his disgrace."
"Does Broneron still live in Minas Tirith?" asked Frodo. "Or did you banish him?"
"He has been banished from the citadel, but he has a house within the city. He lives there still."
When they came out of the counsel-closet, the hour of 10:00 was approaching.
"I have your permission to go freely about the city and make inquiries?" Frodo requested.
"Certainly," Aragorn replied. "I will provide you with an escort, so that none may stop you from going where you will. You may search for the answers you need without hindrance. If any bring complaints to me, I will say that you act with my authority, and in my name. But the hour is upon us--I must go."
Aragorn went down to meet the Council. Frodo would have gone too, but Arwen asked him to stay awhile. She offered him a glass of some sweet, pale orangish fruit nectar and they sat down at the little table where the King and Queen had breakfasted, but had since been cleared by servants.
"Lady Eowyn tells me that you and Merry will return to us this afternoon," Arwen said. "You think to bring your investigations here, into my chambers."
At first, Frodo thought that she disapproved and was going to refuse to let them intrude upon her private rooms and disturb her ladies-in-waiting with questions. Then he realized she was merely curious. Although she looked like a young woman, no older than Lady Eowyn, she was thousands of years old; there was a cool, elvish detachment in her voice and expression that made it hard for him to interpret what she was truly thinking.
"If you've no objection to it, my lady," he answered deferentially. "In the Shire, I've found that social occasions where ladies gather to talk--gossip--about goings-on are a perfect opportunity for me to listen and learn. I know so little about Minas Tirith and the people here. Your ladies do, don't they?"
"Save for Eowyn, all the ladies who attend me are of the old Gondor families. Many are wives and daughters of the councilors. They know a great deal... more than I." A small smile curved at the corner of her lips. "This city and the life within it are new and strange to me too."
"There is one lady in particular I wish to meet and speak with. Merry tells me her name is Tharya."
"Tharya? Yes, she is among my maids-in-waiting. She is Councilor Larengar's daughter."
"I won't pry or ask personal questions," Frodo assured her, "only listen to their ordinary chat. I'm sure they talk about these murders in any case."
"So they do," Arwen agreed. That hint of a smile appeared again. "I admit, I am intrigued. When I first heard of your work, I was curious how you would investigate the deaths here. Mithrandir told me how you discovered the true tale of the fall of Gondolin, and how my mother's tutor at Caras Galadon visited you on his journey to the West."
"Since he helped me then, Gandalf seems to believe I can solve any puzzle I put my mind to."
"If he believes it, it must be so," Arwen answered. "You will stop these horrors, and I will do what I can to aid you." Her voice lowered, she added, "I wish to aid you however I can." She reached out to touch the astonished hobbit's cheek and said, "You are in pain, Frodo. I see it. A shadow lay upon you when I first saw you in the wilderlands near Imladris, gravely wounded as you were. You were healed, and wounded and healed again--and yet the shadow remains. The Ring still haunts you, though it has been destroyed?"
"Yes," Frodo admitted. He was usually reluctant to discuss his illness, but he couldn't conceal it from her. Since her fingertips had touched his cheek and, with her eyes gazing solemnly into his, he felt as if a spell had been cast over him. He was reminded of her grandmother Galadriel's way of looking into your thoughts and seeing all the secret things you never dared tell. He felt compelled to speak. "There's been an emptiness in my heart since it was lost, as if something vital to me has been cut away. I sometimes think I'll never be entirely healed." As he spoke, he felt that empty ache swell within him.
"And if you can find no relief, what then?"
"I don't know," he answered in a whisper. The pain wasn't so bad right now, but on his darkest days, it rose to engulf him; each year, it seemed to grown worse. What would happen when it became too much to bear?
The spell was broken abruptly when a page brought Captain Beregond into the room.
"Your pardon, my lady," Beregond said with a bow. "The King bids me escort the halfling about the citadel this morning." He turned to address Frodo: "I am to answer all your questions of the two deaths that occurred here. I will wait without until my lady has finished with you."
"We have done," answered Arwen. "You may go, Frodo. We will speak again, and be merrier, this afternoon."
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