My Sword Weeps
by Agape4Rivendell
Chapter 40: War?
The
morning broke colder than Ragnhild had
hoped. The winds blew down from the mountains; the snow-capped peaks
shone in the bright sun. She pulled her blanket closer as she stepped
from the bed. A light knock sounded. She looked towards the little
alcove where Targon lay. The boy still slept. Quickly, she opened the
door, hoping to give the lad an extra hour’s sleep. “Erendis,” she
whispered in greeting and stepped out into the hallway. She closed the
door behind her.
“I wanted to ask what you and the boy would like for breakfast? He is
better, isn’t he?”
“He slept well. I woke him every few hours, to make sure the injury
did not worsen. He is sleeping now. I will eat in the Common Room, if I
might. The lad needs as much sleep as he can get to help heal.”
“Of course. Would you like one of my boys to sit watch while you eat?”
“Yes, oh yes! Thank you so much.”
“Borondir is here. He usually eats with us. It’s my biscuits, you
know,” and a faint blush reached the woman’s cheeks. “Now, go ahead
with you. I’ll take care of Targon and your breakfast.”
Ragnhild went back into the room, quickly dressed and ran down the
corridor to the inn’s common room. As she entered, she saw Borondir
sitting at a corner table with Hador. She sat some ways away. She knew
he had seen her, but she decided it would be best if they were not seen
together so soon after last night’s long discussion. Some might wonder
and question.
Borondir, it seemed had no such compunction. He stood and strode
towards her table. “Ragnhild. It is good to see you again.” He spoke
loudly. “How is the boy?”
“He still sleeps. He had a quiet night. He should be up and about
today. Ready to do his chores. Thank you for your concern.”
“Did you hear that, Hador?” the man turned and bellowed to the
corner table. “I told you she was a good healer.” He turned to her
again and chuckled quietly. “Best you close your mouth else the patrons
will wonder.”
She was immediately angry. The ease with which this man manipulated her
infuriated her.
“Would you join us? Hador’s wounds are old, but I thought you might be
able to prescribe something to ease his pain.”
She found herself staring again and forced herself to smile. He helped
her up and she walked stiffly to their table.
“Hador, may I introduce Ragnhild, healer of Rohan.” He held a chair
out for her, one that would put her back to the rest of the room.
“Ragnhild,” he continued, “this is Hador, proud captain of Gondor,
retired these past twelve years.”
The soldier stood and bowed as she smiled and nodded; they both
sat. Erendis rushed over, her hands and arms full of plates covered
with meats and cheeses, potatoes and biscuits covered in gravy, with a
huge pot of steaming hot tea. “You are in need of sustenance. I don’t
think you ate a thing last night,” the woman clucked. “I’ll not have
tales leave these walls saying we starve our patrons.”
Ragnhild laughed, gratitude spilling from her. “You are, and have been,
too kind!”
She noted the men sat and waited for her to eat. Once she buttered
the last biscuit left on her plate, Borondir spoke. “The innkeeper and
his wife are with us. You may speak freely.”
She looked about and discovered that the room had emptied. The last
patron had left while she finished her meal. She turned to Hador
instead of replying to Borondir. ‘Let the proud captain sit and stew
for a moment or two,’ she thought wryly. “Are you in pain?”
“Aye,” Hador said, “but it is not bad. It was said to allay any
suspicions of our meeting.”
“I realize that,” she said testily, thoroughly disliking the
condescending attitude of the two warriors. “But I am a healer and I do
have something that might help.”
“Forgive two stupid men, Ragnhild. We are used to battling this foe
alone. Since the prince sent and trusts you, so do we. Tell us your
plan.” Borondir leaned forward.
She squirmed at the gentle rebuke. “Nay. It is I that should ask
forgiveness. I barge in here expecting all to obey me. In truth, I have
only a sketchy plan. I have planted a spy in Dagnir’s household and
plan to send Targon there today.” She answered their unasked question,
“As a cook. The boy is quite good. After that, I was just going to
wait.”
“I think the treason is not deep.” Borondir’s brow furrowed. “I
still cannot believe what you told me last night. I have already
appraised Hador of the happenings in Minas Tirith. It seems to me that
Dagnir and his son and only a handful of men are traitors. We know
their names.”
“Why have you done nothing? Do you not have proof?”
“We do. They are proud and think they are above the laws of Gondor.
They send missives to each other with impunity. We have intercepted
some, made note of their contents, and passed them along to their
confederates. They do not know they are under scrutiny. We also have
spies in Dagnir’s and Minastir’s households. I hope ours do not harm
yours!”
“So all we need do is arrest them?” she asked incredulously.
“Unfortunately, no. Dagnir controls the army. Without official backing,
we would be arrested instead of them.”
“I will send a missive to Prince Imrahil. He will send soldiers
with orders to have them arrested.” She sat back and sighed. “This is
proving easier than I thought.”
“You will have to wait, though. Lord Dagnir has been called to
Minas Tirith for a special Council meeting. I am not sure when he will
return.”
A commotion in the street interrupted what Ragnhild was about to
say. Shouts and wild screams rent the air. The inn emptied. A rider,
horse lathered from a long and strenuous ride, jumped of his horse near
to the town center after having almost run over half the population.
“Where is Lord Minastir?” he cried aloud. A number of fingers pointed
to Lord Dagnir’s home. The rider threw the reins aside and ran to the
house.
A crowd began to assemble in front of their lord’s house, but no
movement was seen. Ragnhild, Borondir and Hador stood at the back of
the group, watching and waiting. At last, Ragnhild could stand it no
longer. “Come, let us go to the back, to the servant’s quarters. My spy
will be able to tell us what has happened.”
Borondir looked at her and Ragnhild saw the quirk of a smile on his
face. ‘All right,’ she thought irritably. “Mayhap one of your spies can
tell us.”
He bowed and held his arm out. She led the way. As they neared the
back, she heard loud sobs. She knocked quietly on the door. Forleaswyn
answered.
“Oh, Ragnhild. Terrible news from Minas Tirith. Lord Dagnir has been
killed; they say he is a traitor. Soldiers are coming here to arrest
his son. Lord Minastir is summoning his father’s army. There will be
war!”
“There will be no such thing, Foleaswyn. Pull yourself together. Where
is your mother?”
“She is with the master’s wife.” The girl sobbed.
“Hush, all will be well. I want you and Aerin to come back with me
to the inn. Go to your mother and quietly tell her. She must meet us
there, if there is fighting.” When the child left them, Ragnhild turned
to Borondir and Hador. “We should return to the inn. Someone must warn
the warriors that Prince Imrahil sends. They cannot be caught in a
trap.”
As soon as the two children came out, Borondir took Ragnhild by the
arm and gently led her away from Dagnir’s house. “We will return to the
inn. It is a good plan. Hador,” the captain turned, "Call our men. Tell
them to meet within the hour.”
Hador saluted and left them. Ragnhild’s mouth hung open.
