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good, just where it belongs in the real sky, with the Polar Star in the right place. Wonder
what those lamps are made from? The light is obviously cold  perhaps the same stuff that
luminesces in rotting mushrooms? The Dipper was growing fast; Kumai felt on the bottom
of the cockpit for the sack he had extracted last night from its hiding place in the back of the
Dol Guldur fireplace, and suddenly cursed through clenched teeth:  Damn, he never told me
the actual size of that thing  how am I to figure my altitude in this dark?
Haladdin had originally asked him to just retrieve the sack from the hiding place and drop it
somewhere far away from the fortress during the next flight, so he could pick it up and get
away. Then the doctor cut himself off in mid-sentence and asked, amazed:  Listen, maybe
you can fly all the way to Lórien from here?
 Sure, no sweat. Well, not exactly no sweat, but I can.
 What about at night?
 Well, I haven t flown such distances at night before  it s hard to navigate.
 What if it s the night of the full moon, and the target site has guiding lights?
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The Last Ring-bearer
 In that case it will be easier. Do you need aerial reconnaissance?
 No. You see, I remembered how good you ve gotten at dropping shells on ground targets.
That s exactly what you need to do in Lórien.
Kumai had justified a night flight to his Dol Guldur superiors with a suggestion to practice
night bombing.  Whatever the hell for?  To drop incendiary shells onto enemy camps. If
you have to put out burning tents on the night before a battle rather than getting some sleep,
you won t be in good shape to fight in the morning.  Hmm& sounds reasonable. Very
well; try it, engineer. He took off at sunset ( I ll fly around a bit until it gets dark ), made a
wide turn so as not to be seen from the fortress, and only then headed west-north-west. He
found the place where Nimrodel emptied into Anduin while it was still light, the rest was
fairly routine&
Kumai let go and the sack disappeared into the  star -studded darkness below. Two seconds
later the glider s nose covered the Polar Star: all set. If he wasn t off by much figuring his
altitude, the target has been hit.  Is it some sort of poison?  No, magic.  Magic?! You
got nothing better to do?  Trust me: the Lórien dudes won t like this sack at all.  Well,
well. When things are really bad, people always swap magicians for physicians& 
Whatever  he did his part, it s the commanders job to know what all this is for. The less
you know the better you sleep. Time to turn around and go home; it s a long way, plus the
wind is getting stronger.
When Kumai took a habitually daring turn over the sleepy waters of Nimrodel, he failed to
take one thing into account: the height of the mallorns. Or, rather, he had no idea that such
tall trees even exist.
There was a crash when one of the branches touched a wingtip, seemingly lightly, turning
the glider into a spinning winged seed like those that the mallorns drop by the hundreds onto
the wilted elanors in the fall.
There was another crash when the helpless Dragon spun right and slammed into the
neighboring tree, tearing its skin, breaking its spine and bones.
Finally, there was a third crash when all that debris fell down along the trunk and onto a
talan full of stunned Elves, almost right at the feet of the clofoel of Tranquility.
Strictly speaking, Kumai had done his job by then and could have been written off as an
acceptable loss, with an appropriate mention of the omelet whose preparation requires
breaking a few eggs. There was, however, one complicating circumstance: the Troll got
quite banged up in the fall, but survived it  which was, understandably, a complete disaster.
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The Last Ring-bearer
Chapter 61
Star Council of Lórien
July 23, 3019 of the Third Age
Clofoel of Tranquility: Haste is advisable when hunting fleas or dealing with a sudden bout
of diarrhea, esteemed clofoel of Might. So please don t urge me along: Trolls are tough
guys and I ll need a significant amount of time to get reliable information out of him.
Lady Galadriel: How much time do you need, clofoel of Tranquility?
Clofoel of Tranquility: I believe no less than three days, o radiant Lady.
Clofoel of Might: He just wants to give his bums under the Mound of Somber Mourning
something to do, o radiant Sovereigns! This is so simple  let him use his truth potion and
that spawn of Morgoth will spill his guts in a quarter-hour!
Lord Cereborn: Indeed, clofoel of Tranquility, why don t you use the truth potion?
Clofoel of Tranquility: Is that an order, o radiant Lord?
Lord Cereborn: No, no, please don t&
Clofoel of Tranquility: Thank you, o radiant Lord! It s a strange thing: were I to start
teaching the clofoel of Might how to arrange bowmen or cavalry for battle, he would have
taken it as an insult, and he would have been right. Whereas when it comes to detecting
criminals, somehow everyone here knows my job better than I do!
Lord Cereborn: No, please don t take it this way&
Clofoel of Tranquility: As for the truth potion, esteemed clofoel of Might, it has no problem
cracking open a Man s mind  as you ve correctly noted, it d take less than a quarter-hour.
The problem is sorting all the garbage that will spill from that cracked mind: trust me, it will
take more than a few weeks to sift the kernels from the chaff. The potion is great for
obtaining confessions, but what we need here is information! And what if something will be [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]