As Ryan had foreseen, Torvin spoke with them lightly for a time, and then turned to the true matter at hand.
"Lord Ryan," he said, "when Isabel was but ten years of age she went to dwell in Rivendell. There she studied under the Elves, and in trade she has shown remarkable talent. These many years she has overseen our family's commerce."
He paused before continuing: "My father's wish is that she should take charge of the dealings between the House of Dulod and yourself. What say you to this?"
Ryan's brow furrowed slightly, though his countenance betrayed little. He cast a measured glance at Isabel.
He knew well that while contracts are made at the table, the endurance of commerce rests upon ties of trust and kinship. This was true in his former life, and it was true in Middle-earth no less.
Earlier, he had declined Grinwald's offer of direct investment, preferring instead to work by partnership—safer, yet leaving the elder lord uneasy. For Ryan's rise had been blindingly swift: in a single month he had gone from a poor ranger to the ally of Dulod, founder of an armory, and creator of bricks that could transform trade. Soon he would command a thousand spears.
Faced with such speed, Grinwald sought a bond stronger than parchment: a tie of blood and marriage. It was the oldest and surest knot of politics and trade. Clearly the banquet had been contrived for this purpose—to let Isabel and Ryan meet, to see if regard might grow between them.
Ryan inwardly marveled at the old lion's cunning. Age had not dulled Grinwald's wits; his sharpness lay not in tooth and claw, but in the deep store of experience.
Yet the lord misjudged the scope of Ryan's ambition. For Ryan, alliance with Dulod was but a step, a temporary bridge in the opening of a far greater road. In time, he thought, it would be the duty of such houses to bend the knee, not to bind a king with their customary cords.
"Lord Ryan?" Torvin pressed, "If you consent, the management of the armory and the sale of bricks shall fall wholly under Isabel's charge."
Ryan let his thoughts fade, then answered with a courteous smile. "Gladly. My work is manifold, and trade is but the means to fill my coffers. If Lady Isabel will bear that burden, I can only be grateful."
This time he did not refuse. He must show sincerity, lest the bond with Dulod weaken. They were not enemies, only partners standing on equal ground, each needing assurance.
Isabel inclined her head, her blue eyes alight with confidence. "Fear not, Lord Ryan. In less than half a year I shall see to it that your bricks and your blades are known throughout all Eriador."
"I look forward to that day," Ryan replied.
Thus ended the feast, each heart content with what had been won.
….
Days later Grinwald made it known that Isabel would now bear the full burden of Dulod trade, and that Torvin would exercise the powers of lordship.
Ryan wondered at this sudden change, until Ailin returned from a visit and said quietly to him: "The old lord has but little time left."
At once Ryan frowned. To his eye, Grinwald seemed in fair strength, not a man near death. But Ailin was both healer and one of his most trusted companions; she would not speak falsely.
"What did you find?" Ryan asked.
"I saw the marks of death upon him," she replied. "Though his body appears whole, the battle has drained his strength. He lives now on borrowed time. At most, three months remain."
Ryan stood long in silence, until at last he understood all. The haste to bind alliance, the ordering of succession, the passing of the torch—it was clear.
The old lion had felt the nearness of his end. And in his last season he strove to pave the way for his son, for his daughter, and for the folk of Dessen.
Ryan honored such a man. His heart yearned to aid him; yet his mind counseled restraint. Grinwald had told no one of his doom, and thus chose to walk this last road in quiet dignity.
Each must follow the path appointed to him. In a world watched by the Valar, Ryan believed that even his own course lay under the gaze of the One. And so, while others prepared their farewells, he too sought to discern the way he must tread.