In the morning I rose, and went to the Hall of Fire to dine with Sogadan. After some discourse, I learned that the scholar Talkale was the one who complained of me bearing arms inside the Hall of Fire, which did give me reason to be mightily vexed, but as I told Sogadan, I would say nothing, and pretend that I heard nothing of his letter, though this news much troubles me. It shows plainly that Talkale is not one to be trusted, acting thus secretly, with much presumption, and without any orders from Rainith. Indeed, it is a great abuse of him. It seems that he wishes I be discouraged, but, for the moment, I will not say anything. I will bide my time, and behave myself with good words and friendly smiles, as Rainith would have me do, but I suspect he is a very bad one, though I am in a little doubt whether I had commended myself properly during our first meeting, and I may have given him cause for doubtfulness. Yet it was one of the most dishonourable actions any one has ever done to me, and I shall not forget it.
Then, to my very great joy, the Lady Danel arrived to the Hall. It seems she departed from Lord Veryacano’s search, and the news she told us was no more or less than what I heard before; only she drew me aside to speak privately. We talked of many things. She touched upon the matters of the House, which all the Valley is talking sadly of, and told me why she returned to Imladris, that certain of our brethren were behaving themselves worse than Men. That we hear how great the forces of the Enemy are, that they are much greater than ours. That the Lord Veryacano is the most hopeful elf in the world, and that we are (myself particularly) more afeard of him than the Lord Vorongwë. That the Lord Estarfin’s old madness is upon him again, now that he is back amongst the company of his fellow soldiers and the she-snake Nirhen. That my brethren are divided in mind, and have gone along separate paths to seek Lord Anglachelm. That it is a very sad thing to have the honour and integrity of the House so besmirched. That we have little reason to think our brethren will ever return to Imladris again. That we have lost more than our Lord, which we will find equally hard to regain.
So I left the Hall very late, my head full of drink from having drunk so much wine from morning to night, and returned to my chambers, where I practiced on my lute, not very well. Having nothing else to do, I walked around in the gardens under moonlight, and watched an unloading of supplies that was come up to the bridge. I asked for news, but there was none to be had. I am not much busy, nor have I read any new books. I am unable to think of anything but my brethren. Sogadan tells me not to worry, but these matters do not lay much weight upon his heart. He is a wine-merchant, not a soldier, and does not know the thoughts and councils of those who lead. There is, however, one thing he is very good at, besides selling wine, and that is listening. He listened to me talk and talk of how I am very troubled in mind to think what will become of the House, and how things may get worse, and how battle rages mightily in several places. No one can help us but Lord Vorongwë, I said. Sogadan then asked me why I did not go to him and tell him my fears. I think he is in the right, but Lord Vorongwë is said to be very busy looking after the affairs of the House and his officers, and surely he must be aware of these reports of my brethren, which are the most dishonourable sort of news I have ever heard, certainly nothing to brag of! - and I would rather appear to my Lord Vorongwë saying something more pleasing. I was not afeard, I told Sogadan, but loath to speak badly of those whom I would rather say nothing. Saying this reminded me of Talkale and his letter, and I considered that while I would not want to have any personal discussion with Lord Vorongwë on the subject, I could report it in writing.
I shall write a letter to Lord Vorongwë and tell him all that I have heard. Little pleased will my Lord be to hear my report, but he is said to be of mighty good reason and judgment. Nevertheless, the lines shall be written so plainly, but without any names or particulars given as should cause resentment or embarrassment, that it will be impossible for him to do nothing.
