My Sword Weeps
by Agape4Rivendell
Chapter 27: A New Ally
“Keep still, Listöwel. Please!”
Siriondil spoke
through clenched teeth. “We must wait a little longer. I will not go up
to the garrison at night. They will shoot first and ask questions
later.”
“I understand,” she whispered back, “but Gildor is barely breathing. I
am afraid any delay will kill him.”
“Please be quiet. We may all die with arrows in our throats. We…”
“Halt!” The shout from atop the garrison’s walls echoed through the
valley and her heart clenched with fear at the command held within it.
“You are in the land of Gondor. Speak. What is the password?”
“By all the Valar, I have no idea,” Listöwel moaned. “Do you?”
Siriondil shook his head. “We are friends of the Steward,” he
shouted. “We bring a wounded captain of Gondor with us. Is Captain
Durahil here?”
The gate opened. A small contingent of warriors rode out on horses
and quickly surrounded them. One of the men jumped off his horse,
dragged a torch forward, and looked long and hard at Siriondil. “You
are the Master Healer of Gondor!” His voice shook in amaze.
“I am. And my traveling companion is Lady Indis’ handmaiden. But more
importantly, we are in the company of Captain Gildor, late of the
Steward’s Own Guard. We need help. He is badly wounded.”
The man bowed to Listöwel and turned towards his men. “Come and
help Captain Gildor. And you,” he pointed to one of the youngest of his
warriors, “take the Lady Listöwel to my quarters.”
~*~
She settled herself on a chair near the fire, holding her hands out
to garner as much warmth as possible. Her shoes had been
unceremoniously kicked off and her feet lay very near the hearth. She
closed her eyes for a moment and tears gathered in their corners.
‘Where is Indis now? Is Faramir still alive? What of Théodred?
And
where, oh where is Éomund?’
“My Lady.”
Startled, she looked up. Who would call her ‘lady?’
“My name is Captain Durahil. A missive addressed to me was received
two days ago from Prince Imrahil; it told me that Éomund,
Marshal of
the Mark, might call for my aid. In the missive, the prince stated that
Marshal Éomund was traveling with your party. Is that true?”
“Nay. He was not, Captain. Though…” She did not know what to tell the
man.
“The prince has placed a great amount of trust in me. May I show you
the missive? Mayhap it will help you decide to speak.”
She blushed and took the letter from his outstretched hand. Tears
sprang quickly as she read the letter. After finishing, she looked up.
“The Lady Indis and Steward Faramir are traveling, as the prince
states, westward. Master Healer Siriondil, three captains of Gondor and
myself accompanied her; all left Minas Tirith at the same time.
Éomund
was to be part of our company, but something happened while he was away
on a mission for the prince, and the Lady Indis decided she could not
wait for his return. We were also accompanied by Théoden King’s
son,
Théodred.” She cleared her throat.
“Forgive me. You must be tired and hungry.” He called orders out
the door, then walked to the fire, took the kettle off and proceeded to
a table nearby. Quickly pouring hot water into a pot, he brought out
cups, offered her tea, and waited for her to continue.
“Wolves attacked and we lost Captain Baranor. Indis asked us to bring
Captain Gildor here for help. She, along with Captain Gorlim and Prince
Théodred continued on alone. She asked me to ask you….”
“I am going to join her. Prince Imrahil has asked me to,” the
Captain said. “I have already picked two men whom I trust. They will
accompany me. We will leave at first light. They are taking the Great
West Road?”
“They are. But Éomund was to join us and I have seen naught of
him.”
“Neither have I. This missive states that he was to stop here
first, receive reinforcements, and then go forward. I was away for the
last week on a sortie. Orcs attacked further north; I just returned
this evening. Let me speak with my men and see if he indeed stopped. Do
not be concerned.”
She nodded and he left the room. Once again, fears assailed her.
‘Where is Éomund? He should have been along soon after we left
the
City. Could the wolves…?’ She hoped not.
Captain Durahil returned within moments along with his esquire who
carried bread, cheeses and some dried fruit. “Éomund has been
here. He
came two nights ago. He it was who carried Prince Imrahil’s missive. He
took a fresh horse and some supplies and headed west. He should be with
them by now.” The captain took a deep breath. “Sleep here in my
quarters. I will order my men to accompany you and Master Siriondil to
the City in the morning. I will leave long before you are up and about.
Farewell for now, my Lady. Do not fear; we will find the Lady Indis and
help her on her mission.”
“You will not farewell me,” she said furiously, rising as she spoke
to emphasize her words. “I am the Lady Indis’ handmaiden. I was chosen
to be part of her company and I will join you and your men tomorrow
morning. As will Master Healer Siriondil. His services are direly
needed by Steward Faramir.”
The captain took a step back at her vehemence and held up a hand to
stop her. “Forgive me. I did not realize you planned to continue. I
would not stop you, my Lady, if that is the will of the Lady Indis.”
“Be assured, Captain, it is!”
“Then rest now. I will inform Master Siriondil. We leave before first
light.” He bowed low and he and his esquire left.
~*~
Éomund waited for her anger to subside. They had ridden for more
days than he could remember, always hiding in caves during the night,
waking at first light to a meager meal and a cold cave, and still she
would not relent. Gorlim called a halt. Éomund recognized the
cave
Gorlim was pointing to. This memory-filled journey was almost beyond
endurance. They had laughed and cried and spoke of Boromir as Steward
as they sat in this cave on their outward passage. He saw Indis’ grit
her teeth and knew she was thinking the same. That trip had a
disastrous end; Éomund thought this one would end in even
further
disaster.
They had passed the garrison at Calenhad and would reach the
beacon-tower of Halifirien in another day at best. Gorlim and
Éomund
left Indis and Théodred in the cave, along with Faramir,
unharnessed
the draft horses, and returned to the garrison. With Prince Imrahil’s
orders, they were able to procure food and fresh mounts along with new
draft horses to pull the cart. “At the least,” Éomund told
Gorlim, “we
will be prepared once we turn from the road.” Gorlim nodded his
approval.
By the time they had returned to the cave, Théodred had a fire
going and Faramir had been settled, as comfortably as possible. They
eagerly divided the fresh food, sat and ate.
After some time, Éomund turned to Indis. “It will be another two
days,
with good weather, before we reach the garrison at the Mering Stream.
We should have no trouble getting more food and fresh horses.” She
nodded but said nothing. He continued.
“The cold is becoming bitter, Lady Indis. I fear for Faramir.”
Her lips were a taut line in her face. The withering glance she threw
at him would have chilled a normal man, but Éomund was already
chilled
to the bone from the cold. Also, he had endured his own grandmother’s
same look many a time. ‘Seems shield-maidens and women of Gondor have
much in common,’ he mused as he watched her. ‘Stout hearts and anger.’
He smiled to himself and saw she noted it.
“You would laugh at our situation?” she asked icily.
“I laugh at my fate.”
She raised an eyebrow, the tautness leaving her body. He intrigued
her. ‘Good! That will take her mind off this mess for a moment at
least.’
“I am remembering something Morwen Steelsheen once said to me.”
Her eyebrow raised. ‘Another good sign. Mayhap her anger is
dissipating.’
“What did she say?”
“That if I kept my face like that, in this cold weather, it would
likely freeze and I would forever be left with a scowl on my face.” He
held his breath.
Fire flamed for a moment in her eyes, then, a smile crinkled at the
corners of them and she burst out laughing. “My mother said the same
thing too!”
“Forgive me, my Lady. I spoke only in concern when I asked you to
turn towards Edoras. I will follow you to the end of this journey,
wherever it takes us, but we need warmth and good food. Long have I
been stationed in the Eastfold. I trust my men at the Mering. May we
not stop there, stay for one night with Faramir in a real bed, eat warm
food and refresh ourselves before we turn north?”
She started to speak when she heard the horse’s scream from outside
the cave. Instantly, all but Faramir stood with swords in their hands.
The smell of Orcs was foul on the air.
