My Sword Weeps
by Agape4Rivendell
Chapter 22: Suspension
Aragorn lay quietly in the cot,
listening to
the imperceptible breathing of his brothers. Both, he knew, slept but
lightly. Their breath betrayed their open eyes. He smiled thinking how
disconcerting it must be to the Rohirrim to think Elves never slept.
Furrowing his brow, he thought upon their mission and how long it had
taken them to get this far – and still so far to go. Faramir could be
dead before Aragorn was only partially through his journey. ‘This will
not do,’ he thought. ‘And yet, I have no sway over the eagles to demand
passage with one of them. And, gauging from Elrohir’s statement, we
will get no further help from the Men of the Mark.’
“You are supposed to be sleeping,” Elrohir’s deep voice interrupted his
thoughts. “How are you feeling?”
“I am quite well and ready to be on our way, but I gather that will not
be such an easy thing to do?”
“You gather correctly,” Elrohir laughed softly. Elladan still
slept. “There is some sort of decree out of Meduseld that prohibits any
but Rohirrim from traversing the Mark. We are not Rohirrim.”
Aragorn laughed too. “No, we are not.” He bit his lip. “Somehow we
must be away from here without their knowledge. I will put no man’s
life in jeopardy.”
“I was afraid of that. What do you have planned?”
“The Rohirrim are difficult to trick. You and Elladan never meant
to ride with me to Minas Tirith. Now would be the perfect time to part.
You could create a diversion and, during it, I could take a mount and
ride away. It would be sometime before I am discovered, I would venture
to think. Erkenbrand does not know I heal quickly and am fit to run.”
“I had given second thoughts to our parting, Aragorn, and had
deemed it unwise to separate at least for a little longer. I do not
like this plan.”
Aragorn looked at his brother in surprise. “But the plan had been
for us to part when we reached the Mark. What makes you want to
continue?”
“The evil of the wizard, I suppose. I am not certain. A foreboding
lingers in my mind. The foreboding itself could be another ‘gift’ of
the wizard, but I think not.” He put his hand on Aragorn’s shoulder. “I
wish to accompany you a little further, if I may?”
Aragorn smiled. “You are most welcome. Journeying through this
terrain alone is not very appealing. Unfortunately, that means my plan
for a diversion will not work. Elladan will not stay without you.”
“No, he will not,” Elrohir said quietly. “So – we need a new plan.”
“What for?” Elladan stood and stretched. “I heard my name.”
“I have decided to continue on this quest with Aragorn. What are your
plans?”
“I will go with you,” Elladan laughed gently. “We have started
together; we should end together, do you not think?”
~*~
The snow obliterated the road for a moment, and in that moment,
Éomund lost sight of them. He cursed loudly and urged his horse
forward. After an hour’s ride, he knew he had missed them. They must
have stopped somewhere and found shelter. He cursed himself quietly.
‘The cave. They have found the cave and entered it.’ He backtracked for
a quarter of an hour and then found the telltale cairn of Gondor that
marked the road’s forking. He took the left fork and headed south.
Within moments, he saw the cart and the horse tethered to it.
When he entered the cave, he was met with swords to his throat. “I am
friend,” he said quietly and was immediately embraced till his breath
almost left him. “Did you think so lightly of me that I would not
follow?” he asked Indis gently.
She hugged him tighter as tears fell. Shuddering, she pulled back.
“You are such a welcome sight. But – where are Listöwel and
Captain
Durahil?
“I know nothing of either. Were they to meet me? I had no missive. Why
are you traveling with only Captain Gorlim? Where are the others?”
“Baranor is dead.” Her face hardened at the thought. “Gildor has
been mortally wounded. Listöwel and Siriondil, upon my orders,
took him
to Amon Dîn. They were supposed to gather a few men to them and
rejoin
us at Nardol. We have not made it that far yet, as you can see.” Her
good humour had returned upon seeing her friend.
“I can well see. I left Amon Dîn last evening. I saw no sign of
Listöwel nor Siriondil. Captain Durahil had taken a patrol out. I
did
not know who else to trust, so I procured another mount and left.” He
took her hand in his. “Should they have been there by then?”
“I do not think so. They will know enough to wait for the captain. How
did you know of him?”
“Prince Imrahil suggested him. He is most concerned for your welfare.”
“And how does he fare?”
Éomund grinned. “He is in the midst of sending out spies and
seems
to be quiet happy with that. I think he likes a mystery.” His grin left
him. “Though the reason for the search is terrible to consider.”
She leaned against him. “We must be away soon. Does it seem that the
storm has lessoned?”
“It has. There was a break a short time ago. That is how I
discovered I had missed you. I think another hour or two and we should
be able to continue. Are we going to Edoras?”
“Nay. Though that was my first thought. I wanted to return
Théodred
to his father.” She shrugged. “He will only follow us, if I did that,
even against his father’s wishes. The oath sits heavy upon him.” She
stood and walked to the little fire, poured three cups of tea and
walked back to Éomund. Handing the two men their cups, she took
a sip
herself then sat. “We will turn north at the Mering Stream. Head
towards Fangorn Forest. I only know the healer is said to live in the
North.” Smiling, she said quietly, “The North is a very large place.”
