Repost...had to clean this up!

Smoke and Mirrors Chapter 4

Smoke and Mirrors Chapter 4

Aragorn and Gandalf passed through the seventh gate and started down the
incline leading to the sixth level and the Houses of
Healing. As they rounded the curve leading to the south portal they
were hailed by four guards who were running towards them.

"My Lord, I have hurried as fast as I could to bring you dire news of
the Ringbearer," the lead guard panted.
Aragorn and Gandalf's faces crumpled in grief.

"So the Ringbearer has succumb, then?"

"No, my Liege. He has escaped." Aragorn's face reflected the shock
both he and Gandalf were experiencing. "He was delusional and attacked
the healer Saleth and Lord Faramir as they tried to detain him,"
replied the guard.

"Escaped? By what miracle? This small one was unable to rise let
alone summon the energy needed to wield a sword or make
an escape," exclaimed an astonished Aragorn.

"Now Aragorn, remember with whom you are dealing here. Frodo is a
very stubborn, resourceful hobbit. Unlike most of his
kind, he has a bright inner light. If he felt in any way that he was
in danger...," started Gandalf.

"No, not *he* ...but Middle Earth," interrupted Aragorn. "In his
delirium he thought he had not as yet destroyed the ring, so that
would be his aim if he were to escape."

"You are not seriously thinking he would try the long trek to Mordor,
are you?" exclaimed Gandalf.

"No...no, I think in Frodo's mind he *IS* in Mordor," murmured
Aragorn. "We must act quickly." Turning to the guards, he
said "Gather all the guards that can be spared and search each level
thoroughly. He could not have gotten far in his condition.
Make certain to check all alleyways or any low lying areas where a
hobbit could hide, and remember NO harm shall befall him.
If any man should use force or harm the Ringbearer, I will take it
PERSONALLY and my judgment will be swift and cruel."
A sharp glint touched the King's eyes as he said the last, the meaning
not lost on the entourage.

"He is small and slower-we should not have any trouble locating him,
my King," said the 1st guard.

"Do not be so hasty to judge the little ones, they are very good at
not being seen if they so desire it and can be aggressive
warriors in their own right, if threatened," warned Aragorn.

"I meant no disrespect, my King", the guard backpedaled. "We will be
thorough and gentle when we find him. By your leave,
your Highness?" the guard bowed with great respect.
"It is given," responded the King.
The guards continued up the incline to muster the guard for the
search. Aragorn and Gandalf moved now with new purpose,
towards the Houses of Healing.

"If only Legolas and Gimli were here to help with this dilemma.
Legolas especially with his elven senses and gentle manner would be
welcome now," sighed Gandalf.

"He greatly wished to journey to Mirkwood and see King Thranduil, and
they are both far from Gondor now. By the Valar, I
hope Frodo is alright," said the King.

When they arrived at the Houses of Healing their eyes opened wide with shock
at the ensuing uproar. They moved past the
remaining guards, Aragorn pausing to relate what he desired of them.
The guards dispersed. Gandalf and Aragorn went through the
doorway and the me lee. On the floor as he entered, Faramir was
being lifted between two healers. He leaned heavily on
them, his arms about their necks. They had torn away his leggings
which were saturated with blood, and bandaged the stabbed
limb. He looked pale.

"How fair you, Captain?" asked Aragorn.

"I am well enough. The sword did not inflict any serious damage. I
only wish I could have stopped him or reasoned with him, but
when I looked into his eyes, there was no recognition. He was as a wild
animal which was desperate to escape a cage. What has befallen
him for him to act so?" asked Faramir.

"He is very ill. There is naught you could have done to stop him. You
know how determined he can be," replied Aragorn.

"Aye, I do," smiled Faramir. "But what is his goal? The Ring is gone,
he has but to return to normal life."

"Frodo is suffering from, we believe, 'brain fever'."

Faramir gasped.

"He has been delirious and thinks the Ring and Sauron still
exist," continued Aragorn.

"If this is true, we must find him quickly or he will be beyond our
help soon. Allow me to help you in the search....You there,
Master Healer, I wish to be bound so that I might assist the King in
his search for Frodo," called Faramir to Saleth.

"Absolutely NOT, my Lord. You have lost a great deal of blood, and
when you put pressure on that leg it will reopen the
wound. You will remain in bed until I am satisfied you are well
enough to walk on it," replied Saleth.

Faramir's mouth fell open. "Tell him, Aragorn. Tell him you will
demand he release me so I may assist you," implored Faramir,
for the moment forgetting to address his King as he should. Aragorn
gave him a kind smile. "I am sorry my friend, but Saleth has
the last word in the matters of healing and you must stay behind and
in bed as he requests, nay, *orders*. Saleth gave a victorious look at
Faramir and a thankful one to Aragorn. Without the King's support he
would have been hard pressed to restrain the Steward from releasing
himself from the Houses of Healing.

Saleth was again grateful to have Aragorn in his rightful place
as the King of Gondor.
Faramir was helped away, looking over his shoulder, hopefully, at
Aragorn.
As Saleth turned to go Aragorn's eyes lit on the bandaged left hand.

"And what of you, Master Healer? Perhaps you need rest as well?" he
smiled.

Saleth blushed at this. "It is nothing, just a scratch, my Liege", he
replied nervously.

"Let me see it then," replied Aragorn with a stern look.
"But .... yes, your Highness," the healer acquiesced, seeing the look in the
King's eyes.

The King unwound the hand and glanced up quickly at Saleth. "This is
no small *scratch*, Master Healer. Do you know the
penalty for lying to your King?" Aragorn asked softly.

"Your pardon, my Liege. I meant no deception, truly. I wish only to
regain order here and see to Captain Faramir," murmured
Saleth.

"It will need stitches," murmured Aragorn as he looked closely at
the gash. He hailed a nearby orderly. "Bring me a suturing
tool and fine line."

The orderly bowed and went to arrange for the requested materials.
When he returned with the suturing supplies he also had
brought an antiseptic salve and a tea for the Master Healer. Aragorn
nodded to the orderly in appreciation. He turned to Saleth.
"I will put in the stitches myself, because I desire greatly to hear
how someone as sick as the Ringbearer was able to overcome
not one, but two men twice his height, and escape while suffering
from fever, great weakness and pain."

Saleth gulped. "Yes, my Lord."

Aragorn looked up into the now tear filled eyes of the healer. He
knew in his heart that whatever befell the Ringbearer this
gentle man would, forever, blame himself. A surge of pity and
compassion filled his heart. "Peace, my friend. I am not here to
lay blame on your already troubled shoulders. I seek only information
so that we might locate Frodo quickly," murmured Aragorn.

Saleth swallowed hard and was again thankful for as great a King as
Aragorn. His compassion would be as a beacon in the
dark for the kingdom of Gondor.

"It is all my fault. I had prepared the instruments you had requested
and sat to rest awaiting your return, Your Highness."

"I am equally to blame, Master Healer, as I was delayed with matters
of state," replied Aragorn. "Continue please."

"I had sat to rest as I was most weary. I must have fallen asleep
because something awoke me...a noise. When I looked up, the
Ringbearer was not in his bed." He swallowed again. "I felt a great
fear that perhaps he had fallen out of his bed while in his
delirium."

"Why did you not bind him, Saleth?" Aragorn gently asked.

"I was loath to do so. He is so small and frail. I felt it a great
dishonor to all he had done and a great cruelty to his spent frame,"
murmured Saleth.

"I understand your feelings on this. I, too, would have been hard
pressed to inflict that final blow on Frodo. But, surely you realized
it was not an act born of maliciousness, but a kindness to keep him
from further harm?"

"I know, Your Highness, but I still could not bring myself to do it. I
chose, instead to keep a vigil. Unfortunately, my own fatigue
was my undoing," replied Saleth.

"It is hard to stay vigilant when ones own body is tired. Continue
please." Aragorn had put three stitches in place as they spoke
and now continued onto the fourth.

"I called out for him, and there was no answer. So I walked around to
the other side of the bed. He was huddled against the
bed, a look of panic in his eyes. He was very damp from the sweats of
the fever. He had a cloak clutched in his left hand and
his blade in his right. I tried to talk soothingly to him, but he
crept backwards to the corner, obviously not understanding my
intent. Then," and here Saleth gulped as he remembered the removal of
the gauze on Frodo's maimed hand, "He sliced the gauze
off of his right hand and removed the bandages. Better to grip the
sword with, I assume. The ring finger began bleeding anew."

Aragorn looked troubled as Saleth related the
manner in which Frodo had removed his bandages and had
stopped stitching as he watched Saleth's face in horror.

The King lowered his head and resumed his work. "Pray continue," he said quietly.

"He pointed the sword at my chest and motioned for me to go back to
the chair and sit. I tried to tell him he had already
destroyed the ring and was now clasping tightly the pendant the Queen
had placed around his neck, but he did not believe me.
Although, for a second, he did hesitate as if this was familiar to
him." Again Aragorn looked up from his work.

"Do you think he doubted himself--that the ring *really* had been
destroyed after all? Speak true, Saleth, this could be very
important," asked Aragorn.

"I do, my Liege. Just for a moment he seemed confused and looked as
if he believed me." Aragorn nodded for him to go on. "He
pulled himself up slowly against the wall. He was so very weak I was
sure he would collapse at any moment," Aragorn smiled at
this, knowing exactly how much willfulness lay in Frodo. "He was
very shaky but managed to creep along the wall to the
doorway and then out into the corridor. I slowly left my seat and
walked through the doorway and looked around the corner in the
hallway. He was standing with his forehead pressed to the cobble, a
look of delight on his face."

"He must have relished the feeling of the cool stone against his
fevered skin," Aragorn said sadly.

"Indeed, but then he noticed me out of the corner of his eye and
rounded on me with renewed energy, no doubt from
adrenaline." Aragorn nodded his agreement. Everyone knew of
adrenaline or the 'fight or flight' rush. Unfortunately, the rush was
usually short lived and left the person feeling even more drained than
before. "I approached him telling him I wanted to help him
but he slowly backed away. He vomited quite suddenly and violently
then and started to fall. I reached out to catch him. That
was when he sliced my palm with the sword. He must have thought I was
making an aggressive move."

"Hmm...well, you have ten new stitches to show you have fought in
battle," Aragorn said as he bandaged the gash after wiping it
with the salve.

"Please jest not, my Liege. I neither earned or desired battle or
its wounds," the healer lamented.

"I am not jesting, Master Healer. Aragorn looked into his eyes.
"Frodo could just have easily run you through, but even at his
worst he is better than the rest of us at our best."

Saleth nodded. "I have felt this way as well, about our Ringbearer."

"Continue...how did Faramir become involved?" asked Aragorn.

"Master Baggins was slowly retreating down the hallway. He was so
weak but the fear drove him on. He backed into Captain
Faramir. The Captain was delighted to see him, but when Frodo turned
around, the look on the Steward's face turned to confusion.
He glanced down the hall and saw the blood and myself sitting on the
floor, and asked Frodo what was happening. Frodo
wavered as to fall and the Captain reached out to steady him. Again,
he must have felt threatened and stabbed the Steward in
the leg. Captain Faramir screamed and called out to Frodo, but he had
vanished into the night," completed Saleth.

Aragorn arose. "Your tale was most enlightening and I feel no ill will
towards you for Frodo's escape. He can be very determined. I am
sure he would have found another way, if this had failed, to escape.
You have done well. Now, take this tea and retire for a few
hours. I will awaken you when we find Frodo," said Aragorn.

"But I must tend to the Steward, my Liege. I cannot sleep," said
Saleth.

"You have been taxed beyond your limits and need rest. The other
healers will attend to the Captain, I shall make certain of it."
When Saleth hesitated still, Aragorn handed him the tea. "That was
not a request, Master Healer, or do you wish to stir the ire
of your King?" Aragorn smiled. Seeing that there was no recourse but
to relent to the King's wishes, Saleth drank the tea.
He lay back on the bed nearest him and slowly closed his eyes.

"My King, I am sorry," he murmured.

"No need, my friend you are a good man and healer. You have done no
wrong. Now rest." Aragorn covered the healer and left
the room, walking to where Faramir had been taken.

Gandalf was watching and chatting lightly to Faramir as a healer
stitched the wound. Faramir however, was not in a *chatting*
mood. He lay on the bed looking at the ceiling.

"After you have seen to his wounds you may wish to give him a tonic
for sleep," said Aragorn.

"My King, is that really necessary?" Faramir said grumpily. Gandalf
chuckled.

"Yes, it is, my friend. Otherwise I will have to place two
guards...guards that are needed in the search...by your bed to keep
you in place," Aragorn smiled. "The Master Healer is resting. You
will care for the Captain in his stead," said Aragorn to the
healer.

"Yes, my Lord. I am gladdened that you were able to coerce the Master
Healer to sleep. We have tried but he has refused,
insisting he was needed here," replied the healer.

"Coerced... hmm, yes, I guess I did *coerce* him. In any event, you
are in charge until he awakens."

"Thank you my Lord."

Gandalf and Aragorn turned to leave.

"But you can not just *leave* me here. I need to help with the
search," whined Faramir.

"What are you orders, Second Master Healer?" asked Aragorn.

"To finish dressing the Steward's wound and then give him a tonic so
he may sleep," recounted the healer.

"Correct. Sorry, my friend, but not this time. Worry not, I will let
you know when we find him. Sleep well, my friend," Aragorn
smiled. Gandalf gave Faramir a look of 'there is nothing I can do',
and then they both turned and left the room.

TBC