My Sword Weeps
by Agape4Rivendell
Chapter 39: Hope is Kindled
“My
Prince?” his new guard stood at the door entrance.
“Galador. I am glad Arantar picked you as his replacement. What is it
you require?”
“Thank you, my Prince.” The man blushed at the compliment. “Lord Ohtar
wishes to speak with you about his son.”
“I told him I will speak with him in two day’s time.”
“Aye, my Prince.” The man bowed and left.
‘Now why would… I have forgotten! Dagnir has a son!’ He stood in alarm.
“Galador!” he shouted. “Send for Arantar. He should be at the stables
by now. I need him back here immediately.”
The knight bowed and ran out the door. Within a short time, Arantar
appeared before him. “My Prince?” he said breathlessly, holding his
side from the stitch in it. He had run as if the very beasts of the
Enemy were after him.
“I have a further errand for you. Ragnhild is in Tarnost. She must be
told of Dagnir’s death. Lord Dagnir’s son must be arrested, if she
believes he is part of the conspiracy. Take three companies with you; I
am uncertain of the force you will meet, and arrest Lord Minastir, take
their holdings and place them in trust for the Steward, then return to
me. Also, take Angbor with you. Once you have accomplished this task,
send him to Edhellend. He need not return here with you.”
“Aye, my Lord. I will do as you command.” The soldier hesitated for
a moment and Imrahil waited. “If we meet resistance, my Prince, should
we fire upon our people?”
“Nay. I am hoping, with such a large force at your back, that there
will be no resistance. Use the courtly ways you have learned under my
tutelage, Arantar. Keep kin-strife from us. Gondor cannot afford
further suffering.”
The Swan Knight nodded, his jaw set. Imrahil heard the whispered
words as the warrior left the room. “Not on your watch, my Prince. Not
on your watch.”
“I received a missive from Balan and Baran two hours ago. They
asked me to meet them here. I had only arrived when they were arrested.
Thankfully, I was not yet involved.”
“Why would they send a message to you? Who are you?” Ragnhild could not
keep the doubt from her voice.
“I am a retired knight of Gondor. Borondir is my name. I served under
the Lord Denethor twenty years ago. I was maimed in a fight with Orcs
and retired to this, my homeland. Balan and Baran were young soldiers
under me. We have been friends ever since. Did they not tell you this
when you set out on your journey?”
“They did not – and I think I will strangle them both for the omission.
They could have saved me much concern. So, do you know why I am here?”
“Nay. But I surmise it has to do with a certain treasonous lord of
Tarnost?”
“Dagnir has a reputation?”
“He does. He speaks highly of… he spoke highly of Denethor, but always,
he sowed seeds of frustration and anger amongst the nobles here. He
spent no time trying to sway the people, for you will find they are
fiercely loyal to Gondor. Proud to be Gondorians. And, as you heard in
today’s little discussion, proud of their Elven ancestry as well. It
has been an uphill battle for Dagnir. But he wields the troops here and
he has power as a member of Gondor’s Council. It is difficult to fight
him. What are your orders?”
“I am to find how far the treason has spread, ascertain, if I can, who
is involved besides Dagnir and Ohtar of Calembel, then report back to
Prince Imrahil.”
“Again, you speak of things I do not know. Why is the prince ordering
from Minas Tirith? Where is Faramir? He is not dead as well?” There was
horror in the man’s face and that, along with his words, assuaged some
of Ragnhild’s fears.
“Denethor and many of his men were killed, murdered, as they left the
Mark. Young Boromir was also killed, but later, in the city itself by
one of the Council. You must have heard that Amandil took the Rod
whilst Boromir was still in Edoras? Well, never mind that. Amandil’s
men killed Boromir and many others. In the end, Gondor’s forces
prevailed; the knights of Gondor, along with Imrahil and Théoden
King,
overcame the traitor and his men and retook Minas Tirith. I cannot tell
all the details now, but Faramir was taken by some spell and lies as if
dead.” She thought it best not to tell of the clandestine journey to
save the boy. “Indis, sister to Denethor, was made Regent, while
Faramir, even unconscious, was named Steward. During the Steward’s
illness, the Lady Indis asked Prince Imrahil to oversee the city, which
he agreed to. Hence, my orders from him.”
“That is distressing news you bring, Ragnhild.” The man shook his
head and then lowered it. “It was… difficult to hear of Lord Denethor’s
death. The tale here about was that Denethor had been killed in an Orc
ambush. That Boromir was taken by fever. And that Faramir had taken up
the Rod. I did not know they had taken the Rod from the boy. I wish I
had been in the City.”
She heard a sob and looked up in surprise.
“I would have much liked to deal out justice for the Lord of the Tower
Guard, for my Captain-general.”
Ragnhild sat back in her chair, fingering her flagon. “It was not a
pretty sight, Borondir. Many brave men died the day we took the Tower
back.”
“We? You were there?”
“I was. The women of the Mark do not stand about helplessly. Even
leeches learn to wield a sword. The threat of death is always near to
hand. It is a heartrending thing to stand and watch a boy cut down.”
Her own tears fell in the remembrance. “I will speak of it no more. I
have a duty to perform.” She grit her teeth. “I would ask for your
help.”
“It is already sworn, for you are the Steward’s swordhand and I will
follow you. What can I do?”
“For now, nothing. I am weary from travel and from the events of
this day. I will retire now. We must meet on the morrow, but I know not
where nor how. I do not want to bring unnecessary attention to either
of us by risking exposure.”
“I come here for breakfast every morning. Many of those loyal to Gondor
do, old soldiers and such. I will wait for you.”
She nodded, yawned and stood. “Thank you. My heart is much at ease, now
that we have talked. I will see you on the morrow.”
~*~
Indis moaned as she felt strong hands around her waist. She
immediately stiffened; the action caused intense pain to shoot through
her lungs. She cried out.
“I am sorry, my Lady. You will be safe and warm in but moments.”
She did not recognize the voice, but ‘it is not an Orc.’
The voice laughed. “Nay, my Lady. I am not an Orc. I am Durahil,
Captain of Amon Dîn. You have been rescued, due to your friend,
Listöwel’s, fervor.”
She tried to open her eyes, but the jolting of what she now
recognized as a horse’s movement, wrecked havoc with the pain in the
back of her head.
“Lean against me, my Lady. You are cold to the bone. My body will warm
you, if you but trust me a little.”
She leaned back and a small sigh escaped her. “Thank you, Captain. Not
only warmth, but comfort.” She waited a moment for fear to leave her,
then “Théodred?”
“The young prince is alive. He is behind us. Siriondil has him. We
are heading for a cave I know of that is but a short distance from
here. The Master Healer says you need warmth more than a soldier’s
outpost.”
She nodded and the warmth of the captain’s body put her to sleep.
When next she woke, she could feel tension in the captain’s body.
She kept her mouth closed; questions spoken aloud, if the enemy was
near, could spell disaster.
“My Lady,” she heard the captain whisper, “The cave I intended to
take you to seems to be occupied. I am not sure by whom, but I am
sending soldiers ahead. If it be Orcs, they will quickly clear them
out. Do not fear. You are safe with me.”
She clenched the arm about her waist. “Stop,” she whispered
furiously. A thrill of hope ran through her. “There were two others in
our party. If this is the same cave we were attacked in, those two
might yet live. Tell your men to take care, Captain. Please!”
“Of course.” He motioned and a soldier rode up next to him. He
whispered something to the man and the soldier rode off. “They will
take care. Now, lean back and rest. There is nothing further you can
do.”
