My Sword Trembles
by Agape4Rivendell
Chapter 25: A Secret Between a Squire and his Lord
“The noises have stopped,” Faramir whispered.
“That does not mean all is well.” Aragorn continued at the look of fear
on the boy’s face, “but my brothers know how to care for themselves.
They will return shortly.”
“I…” The boy blushed. “I need to… I must go…”
Aragorn looked at the child with pity. “You cannot leave the tree, not yet.”
Faramir bit his lip. “I will try to hold it.”
Tears formed in the little one’s eyes and Aragorn sighed. Some part of
him knew the battle was over and that, indeed, his brothers were well.
However, he could not imagine himself getting down from this tree
safely, never mind with any dignity. The tears fell a little faster.
“Think you that you can climb down yourself?”
The boy nodded. “I think so.”
“Good. Stay right at the bottom; do not go any further. I will close my eyes.”
Nodding with a sigh, Faramir climbed over Aragorn and grasped the limb
next to him. He wrapped his legs as far around the trunk as they would
go and lowered himself to the next limb. After a moment’s hesitation,
he clambered a bit further down, to the next limb and then the next.
There he stopped. “I cannot go further. The limb is too far for me to
reach.”
Aragorn looked about him. There was naught he could do but go down and help the lad. “Wait a moment. I will be there.”
“But you are hurt,” the boy protested. “I will wait.”
“It will take me a few moments, but I will join you. Just hold on
tight.” He smiled at the innuendo. Concentrating on keeping his weight
off his injured foot, he slowly lowered himself to the next limb. It
was fairly simple. As he held on to that one, he put out his good leg
and lowered further. By now, he was on the limb above Faramir. He had
to stop for the low pain in his foot now traveled up his leg. He
grimaced, took a deep breath, and moved once again down to the next
limb. “Take my hand and let yourself down. It is not as far as it
looks.”
The boy nodded, swallowed, and took Aragorn’s hand. After a moment
looking down, Faramir lowered himself, while tightly gripping the
Ranger’s hand. “I made it. I am on the last limb. I think I can jump
from here.”
“Do not close your eyes…”
“Ouch!”
“Are you all right? Faramir, answer me!” A small groan was the only
answer he received. “Faramir!” he whispered as loudly as he dared.
“I twisted my ankle a little. It does not hurt much. Close your eyes.”
Aragorn had to stifle a laugh. ‘Good lad,’ he thought warmly.
At that very moment, a full company of men came through the forest,
calling out Faramir’s name. The lad looked up at Aragorn in concern.
“Be still. Remember our secret, my Lord Steward,” Aragorn whispered.
“These men will take you to your aunt. I would have given you a message
for her, but it is too late now. Remember this also, Faramir. You are
to meet me at Morwen’s family farm on Ethuil. You will stay with me for
three months. Bring your sword, shield, and mail.” He heard a familiar
voice and stopped. “My brothers are come; listen to their words, vouch
for them, Faramir. They must be allowed to leave without guard or
escort. Else I will be left here alone.”
“I will not let them leave without you and no one, I promise, will know
of your presence here.” The boy looked away from the tree and
whispered, “Thank you, Strider. Thank you ever so much. I am in your
debt forever.”
The boy was in tears again and Aragorn’s heart clenched at the
expression of heartfelt gratitude. “Be well, my Steward. I will see you
soon,” he whispered back. “If you ever need me, send a rider to the
Mering. The message will reach me, I promise.”
“Lord Faramir!” Borondir’s voice rang out loudly. “Faramir, my lad. Come to me. Are you hurt?”
The boy hobbled to Borondir’s side. “I am sorry I left you. I fell in
the river. I could not get out. I tried to shout but no one heard me.”
He stopped in shock. “You are hurt! What happened?”
“An Orc tried to take me, but found me too old and bitter for his taste.”
Faramir smiled. “That is not true. You are not old, just battle-worn.”
Borondir put back his head and laughed. “You are a sight to see, young
Faramir. Again, you bring laughter to my heart. I am very glad to see
you. But tell me, you are hobbling yourself. What have you done?”
“I just now tripped as I climbed…” He bit his lip. “As I climbed over a
root,” he pointed to a tree opposite the one Aragorn sat in. “Something
like that one there.”
Borondir stared at the tree. “I see. Well, we had two Elves who helped
us in the battle, but they seem to have disappeared. Have you seen
Elves about, Faramir?”
“I did. They helped me, fed me, and were bringing me to Osgiliath, to my aunt.”
“Then we need not fear them, I suppose. They tended my wounds and the
wounds of my men. But it is not good to have strangers on Gondor’s
soil. Well, that cannot now be helped. I will not send my men after
them. You vouch for them?” At Faramir’s nod, the captain continued,
“Sit on my lap. This litter is not very comfortable, but it will take
us nicely to the Regent, or at least to Osgiliath. There are so many
people waiting for you, worrying about you. Targon will be most anxious
to hear your tale. Mayhap you will even have to write a song about it.”
Faramir looked at the man in alarm. “I have never written a song.”
“Then it is about time you tried your hand at it, for the men of Gondor
are known for their song. In fact, I think now would be just about the
time for a song of rejoicing. What say you, Valanestel?”
“Yes. It is time for a song and perhaps some food?”
“I am not hungry. We ate a while ago. If you want to continue, you do not have to stop on my account.”
“My Lord Steward, that is kind of you. I would like to press on. It
will be another day, at least, before we reach Osgiliath. Every day has
been difficult for the Regent. I would have you to her as quickly as
possible.”
“Then, Captain Borondir, I suggest we get underway?”
Borondir laughed again. “It will be as you order, my Lord.”
Faramir smiled. The men took up Borondir’s litter and began walking northward, their voices raised in song.
Winter’s here but all is well
The crops are in, the grain’ries swell
And I my love will kiss and tell her
Of the coming spring.
The coming spring will bring delights
Green fields, friends and longer nights
But that is not within our sights
We must await that day.
Await that day of green and gold
And lively stories that enfold
Our hearts and speak of love untold
In the coming spring.
~*~
A/N - 1) Ethuil is the Sindarin word for the Spring Festival day. http://lostworldofennor.angelcities.com/time.htm#Men
2) Since Denethor is dead and it is long before the time he made the
law about strangers on Gondor’s land, there is no edict for Borondir to
break. He is within his right to let the Elves go, even though they
have already slipped through his fingers.
