Parnard looked over the receipt, comparing it to the lot just delivered. Supplies for seven at least: too many elves, Lord Anglachelm said. He imagined a squeaking wagon creeping across a muddy, rutted road carrying the load of barrels and crates. How secure were the roads leading south?
Once more he referred to his map of Eregion, tracing the road south with a bony finger. Two outposts at about forty mile distances, there, and there, which provide overnight protection to caravans and work parties, should Lord Veryacano ever feel the need for more road maintenance for his soldiers.
It was not a bad time of year for an expedition, because of the trees losing their leaves, by which one could see a little through the woods, and prevent surprise attacks by the Enemy, which is their only strength - beside their numbers, and their treachery. And holly trees did not lose their leaves.
It seemed to Parnard that the Enemy's numbers were always underrepresented. It was a standard tactic to appear weak when strong, to seem unable to attack, to appear inactive, to seem near when far, or far when near. When outnumbered by a superior army, evade it. That was the Wood-elf method of dealing with invaders. It had worked – mostly, but not so well of late. And this approach was impressed upon the volunteers traveling to Eregion by Lord Anglachelm – they must not be noticed, but move unseen like the wind: those that wish to fight must first consider the cost.
He pulled out another piece of paper from a stack on his desk and tallied up a long list of numbers, his eyes darkening. He added the figures together again and came to the same amount. Six hundred and two gold! He groaned inwardly and looked at the paper a long time. But it was needed, he reminded himself. He must ponder the cost of it later. Right now, he had this other business matter to attend.
Parnard well understood that purchasing, moving, inventorying, and distributing supplies was more important to the House's efforts than taking up his sword and venturing south with the others. Still, it seemed not so glorious. Well, swords cannot be eaten, after all! And without his exhaustive attention to these little niggling details, the campaign may not succeed.
He had to ensure that every single item required by the House, from cloak-pins to raw materials such as oak heartwood was available. He had several thick volumes documenting the full inventory of the House, and spent a great deal of time at market establishing trade relationships with suppliers and negotiating prices. And, although some probably thought him idling and gossiping in the Hall of Fire, Parnard was doing what Ambassadors do: keeping an ear to the ground, accumulating information about people, including crafters, merchants, and trade representatives. Samples were procured and inspected, items ordered, packaged and transported, and finally properly issued to the necessary parties.
His decision to remain in the Valley, where little commendation but much tedium would be found, was expectedly easy. He had too much work to do, and he believed that Estarfin desperately needed his healing arts. On this last subject, however, Laurelindo, did not agree. The healer was not keen on outside study, and tried to sooth the Ambassador’s irritation by suggesting that he test his home-brewed remedy on Estarfin’s guard. Parnard would not permit it (even if it had taken thirty-six hours wearying hours to boil an entire bottle of violet syrup down to a few teaspoons), because he did not think Lord Veryacano would entirely approve of such measures.
Laurelindo had placed himself as Estarfin’s official caretaker, and now he was being uncommonly secretive. Last night he had reinforced his position by refusing to administer Parnard’s medicine, because it might ‘react’ with whatever he had already given him. Parnard did not believe that, and walked away wondering if Laurelindo was sampling his herbal teas too often. He could be very trying at times. Well, he decided, he would make his visits with Lord Estarfin seem merely social, and perhaps he would find an opportunity to try out some of his remedies.
With the task of today’s delivery accounted for and recorded, Parnard put pen to paper again and wrote a letter to the Fountain Lord.
Lord Vorongwë,
Herein is the supply list, as requested:
One sweet pickled picnic*
Two slabs of smoked bacon
Five links of spiced sausage
Four sacks of meal
Box of assorted spices
Three pounds of good white soap
Twenty-five beeswax candles
One dove
The whole to be delivered in bulk in three days. The meats are specially cured for keeping in the oaken barrel, and the soap and candles are in water-tight boxes, of convenient size for transport. I have instructed Aurineth to provide the dove. It is not for eating, but will return to the Valley when released, should you need to send message.
Kindly remember to look for moonstones.
Ever faithful,
Lord Ambassador Parnard
*: As every Wood-elf knows, this is brined pork shoulder.
