Galahir sat in silence, staring into his mug. "The minstrels do not sing of this," he said after a while.
"That does not surprise me," Beregond said. "This tale is not for everyone, and I do not share it willingly."
"I understand about the madness, and about Denethor's end, why that does not fit well into rhymes--but what of the seeing-stone? That is the stuff songs are made of. I am surprised the bards do not tell that part of the story at least."
"Who would believe them?" Beregond asked. "Even Gandalf thought the stones were lost. No, when people listen to a bard's song they wish to hear what they already know."
Galahir nodded his head weakly. "Aye, then, to Ecthelion's son."
"To Ecthelion's son," Beregond echoed. He drained his mug, set it down, and silently left the inn.