After King Elrond handed the sword back to Morgan.
Thorin Oakenshield promptly passed him the short sword he had thrown Morgan in the trolls' cave.
King Elrond accepted it and examined it carefully. Then he drew the short sword and studied the inscriptions forged along its blade.
Ordinary weapons did not bear inscriptions.
Only when a true sword was forged would the smith inscribe it, so its history could be passed down.
These inscriptions generally recorded information about the weapon.
For example, when and where it was forged. Some even bore the smith's name.
Of course, only master smiths had the right to put their names on a sword.
There were two ways for a sword to become famous.
The first was through its owner. If the bearer earned great honors and renown in war, the sword he carried would become famous along with him.
The second was through its origins. A sword made by a renowned master smith could enjoy a certain degree of fame from the moment it left the forge.
However, most famous swords that had been passed down through the ages had gained their renown in the first way.
There had been very few master smiths throughout history, and even fewer swords had been forged by their hands.
That was why the swords Morgan, Gandalf, and Thorin Oakenshield carried had all become famous through their deeds in battle.
King Elrond was every bit as learned as Gandalf had claimed.
In a short time, he had recounted the histories of all three swords as though he knew them by heart.
Thorin Oakenshield was clearly rather impressed.
"May it serve you well."
King Elrond smiled and handed the short sword back to Thorin Oakenshield.
Watching the Dwarf King accept it politely with both hands, Morgan could tell that Thorin Oakenshield now had considerably more respect for King Elrond.
The two tables in the open-air garden were not far apart.
King Elrond's appraisal of the swords carried easily from Morgan's table to the other one.
Listening to King Elrond, Bilbo couldn't help pulling out the very short sword Gandalf had given him as they left the trolls' cave.
Balin, the white-bearded Dwarf, sat beside him. Watching Bilbo, he smiled. "Don't worry about it, Bilbo."
"Swords earn their names through great deeds in war. But yours..." Balin smiled and shook his head.
"You mean my sword hasn't been in a battle?" Bilbo asked at once, sounding a little annoyed.
"I'm not even sure that thing in your hand is a sword. To be honest, it looks more like a letter opener."
"A letter opener?"
Bilbo froze at Balin's words.
"How could it be? Letter openers don't glow when Orcs come near!"
Bilbo wanted to argue with Balin, but he stopped himself before the words left his mouth.
At the main table, after King Elrond had identified the three Elven swords, he naturally asked where they had come from.
"How did you come by these?" King Elrond asked in surprise.
"We found them in a troll's hoard on the East Road, and then we were attacked by Orcs," Gandalf replied, taking a sip of fruit wine.
Gandalf had no intention of hiding much from his old friend, King Elrond. The expedition's purpose was to uncover the map's secret, so there was no way to keep it from him.
Besides, Gandalf had never planned to hide it.
"What were you doing on the East Road?"
King Elrond continued.
He was somewhat surprised to see Gandalf in the company of a group of Dwarves, but he still didn't know what they were trying to do.
As soon as King Elrond finished speaking, Thorin Oakenshield's expression changed slightly. Then he said, "I've had enough. If you'll excuse me."
With that, Thorin Oakenshield stood and left.
Only Morgan, King Elrond, and Gandalf remained at the main table.
Neither of them paid any particular attention to Thorin Oakenshield's departure.
But King Elrond had clearly noticed his reaction.
He refrained from asking anything else that might put Gandalf in an awkward position.
Picking up his wineglass, King Elrond took a sip of fruit wine and smiled. "Thirteen Dwarves, a Hobbit, Morgan, and you. What an odd assortment of companions, Gandalf."
"They're all descendants of Durin's Folk. They're excellent, noble, honest, polite, and well-mannered," Gandalf said with a smile, popping a few glistening red berries into his mouth.
Morgan took a sip of fruit wine, then glanced at the table beside them. He saw Ori pick up a silver wine cup, look it over, and quickly stuff it into his robes.
The sight, paired with Gandalf's words, nearly made Morgan spit out his drink.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
Morgan coughed several times before finally recovering.
He looked up at King Elrond and Gandalf, but neither of them seemed to have noticed what was happening at the next table. They continued chatting.
Just then, a commotion broke out at the other table.
Morgan turned and saw the Dwarves, who Gandalf had just described as excellent, noble, honest, polite, and well-mannered, making a mess of things.
They clanged their knives and forks against their plates and cutlery, then broke into song.
As they sang, several Dwarves climbed onto the fine dining table and began dancing wildly.
Only Dwarves could turn the Elves' elegant, extravagant feast into an open-air barbecue party.
Morgan had been startled at first, but he didn't find it all that strange.
Whenever the Dwarves were happy with the food and drink, they liked to let loose and do things like this. He was used to it by now.
They had done the same at Bilbo's Bag End more than a month ago, and at their makeshift camps in the wild.
Morgan had his fill of fruit at the feast.
Fruit wasn't rare in this world, but it was certainly expensive.
It cost about as much as meat, so ordinary folk would choose meat instead of fruit, which was digested almost as soon as it was eaten.
Even ordinary fruit was expensive, let alone the rare delicacies King Elrond had brought out for his guests from the Elven city of Rivendell.
The Dwarves' singing and dancing at the feast was a little rude.
But given that it was part of Dwarven culture, King Elrond was too worldly to take offense.
By the time the feast ended.
It was almost evening.
The sky had just begun to darken.
Lights came on throughout Rivendell.
One after another, the lamps were lit.
Though it was only evening, Rivendell was already as bright as day beneath their glow.
At the Elves' direction.
Morgan and the rest of the Company were led to a loft.
Perhaps because of his relationship with Gandalf, or perhaps because King Elrond had been impressed by his good behavior.
The Elves had arranged a room for Morgan by himself.
The Dwarves and Bilbo, fourteen in all, were assigned just three rooms.
Thorin Oakenshield had a room to himself, while the other thirteen were split between the remaining two.
After the Elven maid had left.
Morgan closed the door and looked at the spacious room's tub, filled to the brim with hot water.
He felt that King Elrond had made a very thoughtful arrangement.
Morgan sank naked into the steaming tub and let out a groan.
He lay back with his eyes closed for quite some time.
Then Morgan opened his eyes and focused his thoughts.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Rows of virtual data appeared out of nowhere, flickering before his eyes.
"."
Thanks to the reader "Green Lotus Dao Song" for the 2,000-point reward, and thanks as well to "Qinluo Wulan" and "SoIomon" for your tips. I'm very grateful~~ I've been busy these past few days, so updates have been a little irregular. Sorry~~~
Before you continue