My Sword Weeps
by Agape4Rivendell
Chapter 43: The Battle
“Are these all your men?” Ragnhild asked
quietly.
“As many as have come in from the fields and hills nearby,” Borondir
looked proudly about him. “I expect more before nightfall.”
“I would wait until your entire strength is here, but I deem it unwise
to do so. We will surround the house, as you suggested, that way none
can enter or leave, unless in force. I do not think, with the knowledge
we have from our spies, that there are more than fifty assembled
there.”
“And after that?”
“Where is Dagnir’s army bed?”
“There is a full company in a barracks down the street. We have someone
watching it now. They seem not to have noticed the commotion. Probably
drunk from last night’s victory – the imprisonment of two lone men.”
Borondir snorted in derision. “The others are like my men – they come
only when called.”
“That is what I had hoped. We will place a full contingent of men at
the gates to the city. All will be barred from entering or leaving.
Then, we wait until I receive further orders from Prince Imrahil.”
Borondir called out names; men scurried forward, listened to his words,
then ran to their posts. Within moments, the common room was nearly
emptied. Only the innkeeper and another two men were left. “These are
my captains, if you will,” the Gondorian smiled. “As I said, we have
been preparing for this day; hence, a small hierarchy is in place.”
She laughed. “And well it is, dear Captain. I believe you have never
left the service of Gondor.”
“None ever do, my Lady. Once in the Steward’s service, especially one
such as Denethor, always in the Steward’s service.” He sighed. “Would
that I had been with him.”
“Then you would have been dead with him,” she said gently. “What
would now happen to Gondor, with this threat in its very Citadel, if
you were dead?” She sat at table; Erendis was beside her instantly with
tea and biscuits. Borondir joined at her behest. Targon entered and was
directed to their table. Ragnhild smiled in delight. “Your colour is
better. How does the head feel?”
“It hardly hurts at all.” He looked around expectantly.
Erendis was beside him in a moment with a tray laden with food. “It
is time to eat. All of you,” she bid them forcefully. “The Valar only
know when your next meal will be.”
Ragnhild nodded her head in agreement. “Thank you, Erendis. You are a
treasure.”
Within the hour, a man ran back into the room. “Captain.”
“Ragnhild commands here. Speak your news to her.”
“My Lady,” the man spoke without question. “Lord Dagnir’s house has
been surrounded. One servant has escaped. She is waiting outside. I was
not sure what to do with her.”
“Her name?”
“It is Hathawyn.”
“Good. Let her come in. Have you heard any news of events at the gate?”
“Nay, my Lady. A report should have been received by now. If I may, I
will go and see what has occurred.”
She nodded and he left. Another moment passed and Hathawyn joined them.
Ragnhild rose and greeted her with open arms. “I am grateful you
escaped. I did not want you there if fighting begins.”
“Is my daughter here?”
“She is. She is in the back with the innkeeper’s wife.” She turned and
beckoned to one of Borondir’s captains. “Please, take this woman to the
kitchens. See that she has something to eat.”
The man nodded and led Hathawyn away.
“Think you we can hold Dagnir’s men until help comes?” she asked the
captain as she retook her seat.
“I do. You have done well. The house and the gate are our biggest
concern. How long do you think before the prince responds?”
“If the errand-rider meets no resistance on the road, we should have a
response within days. Have we supplies and armour enough?”
He smiled. “We,” and he placed the emphasis on ‘we,’ “should be
fine if only days pass before we can act further. You believe Prince
Imrahil will agree with our actions?”
“I do. What else could he do? I most sincerely wish we knew the details
of Dagnir’s death. It is a puzzle.”
Hoofbeats were heard coming up the road, but this time compared to
when the lone rider entered Tarnost, all understood that it was a great
band of men entering their city. Ragnhild looked at Borondir in alarm.
“How did Dagnir’s men overcome the guard at the gate?”
They ran into the street; Ragnhild was glad she had clapped on her
sword when she dressed this morning. Borondir was before her; Targon
behind. The square cleared as at least two companies of Gondor’s finest
knights rode swiftly through the main street. Ragnhild grinned.
The captain of the company dismounted and strode towards her. He
saluted her, then spoke. “Prince Imrahil sends his greetings. I am
surprised, but grateful that you are so easy found.”
“How came you to be here, Arantar?”
“Is there somewhere where we may speak without fear?”
She led the way into the inn. Arantar motioned and Angbor joined
him. Ragnhild was surprised that Lord Ohtar’s son was with the Swan
Knight. Borondir and Targon followed her. Borondir stationed his two
captains at the door to bar entry to all.
As they sat, Erendis, ever the hostess, ran forward with mugs of
ale and bowls filled with biscuits and jams. The captain looked up in
thanks. His smile was enough for the dear innkeeper’s wife. She beamed,
curtsied and left them.
Ragnhild let the captain and the boy eat. When they were near to
finished and their flagons just being refilled by the innkeeper, she
asked. “Again, Arantar, though I am most grateful to see you, how came
you to be here?”
“Prince Imrahil was attacked in the Council chambers by Lord
Dagnir. The lord was killed before he succeeded in murdering my prince.
Lord Ohtar has been imprisoned. Prince Imrahil realized you may be in
terrible danger. He sent me to support your efforts here.”
“Did you see my errand-rider in passing?”
“I did, but let him continue on, as his missive was addressed to my
prince.”
“Good. At least, Prince Imrahil will know what is happening here.
We have surrounded Dagnir’s house. He has, perhaps, fifty men with him.
As you saw, the gates are guarded to prevent his army from coming to
his aid.” She smiled. “All were to have been barred from entry. I am
pleased, though surprised, that the guard let you enter.”
“There were only twenty men at the gate and, though they tried to
bar us, when I showed my orders from Prince Imrahil, their captain
allowed our passage. What is your command?”
Borondir raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘So,’ he thought, ‘my first
impression was correct. She is under Imrahil’s orders. It is right she
leads my men.’
“This should be settled quickly. To prevent panic in the people and
to keep the conflagration as contained as possible. I will go to
Dagnir’s house with your men behind me.” She turned to Borondir. “As
much as I admire your men and the deeds you have done so far in this
matter, I deem it wise to show that the Steward directly leads the
fight against Dagnir’s traitors. Do you not agree?”
“I do, my Lady. You have the Steward’s banner behind you. It will
cow his son. Minastir has always been a coward, hiding behind his
father and his father’s men. He will be easy to intimidate. He will
surrender, if I know him, with nary a sword’s blow.”
“That is what I hope. I do not want kin-strife. These are men of
Gondor holed up against us. I would speak with them, show them the
error of their thinking, and, except for a few, let them go. It is
time.” She turned to Angbor. “I am glad you are with us.” The boy
blushed, but stood resolute. “We will take only ten with us, Arantar.”
He nodded, she stood and they followed as she walked through the door.
Mounting one of the horses, the picked company moved forward.
As they entered the square and stopped before Dagnir’s house, a soldier
ran up and whispered to Ragnhild. “They have archers in the windows.
Take care,” she said quietly. She rode to the front of the house.
Arantar was beside her as was Angbor, carrying the Steward’s banner.
Before she had a moment to speak, an arrow flew from an upper window.
It pierced Ragnhild’s body. She fell.
