Chapter 4

There was so much to do, so much to learn and to understand but Faramir was never one to shrink from a challenge and that challenge started now. As he walked away from his audience with the King he played over the encounter in his head. It was clear that he had made a poor impression and for that he was sorry but he had promised Lireal and Islin that he would put right the inequities imposed over the last months and he had decided on his strategy.

He needed information and he needed to understand how the system of administration worked. He barely knew the members of the King’s council or what functions and power they held. He needed to find out what role the King had played in the new statutes and he had get at this knowledge without raising the suspicions of the King or the council members; if he tipped his hand and they realised that he was scrutinising their actions his task would prove impossible. No, he would play up his ignorance and pander to their superiority and vanity, allowing them to underestimate his capabilities until he knew enough to challenge them.

But his first task was purely personal. He summoned the Chamberlain and the house keeper to meet him in the Steward’s official chambers. The suite of rooms comprised of a large audience chamber that had served Denethor as an office, a smaller private sitting room and the bed chamber; all of the rooms were dark and depressing; gloomy wall hangings adding to the sombre effect. Faramir had not been beyond the audience chamber in years but in all that time it was unchanged. He pushed down the familiar feelings of revulsion and promised himself to banish all painful remembrances from the rooms.

“I want these rooms stripped back to bare floorboards and walls,” he announced. “I want everything removed; hangings, furniture, bedding, clothing...I don’t care what you do with it…burn it, sell it, give it away to those in need. The next time I enter this room I want it cleared and clean….nothing left.” He looked around, taking in for the last time this symbol of the past before it was swept away for ever. “I want the shutters removed and the windows glazed and I want lanterns and chandeliers to light up every corner.”

“My Lord, what about your father’s personal possessions and correspondence, surely you don’t want all of those disposed of!” Lord Corrin, the Chamberlain exclaimed. “I served him all my life; you cannot wipe out a lifetime.” The poor man was nearly in tears.

“Forgive me, Lord Corrin, it was not my intention to upset you or to dishonour my father’s memory, but in a few months I will be bringing my bride here and I want to make a home for her.” He put his arm on the old retainers shoulder and walked him back through to the audience chamber. “Perhaps you could take charge of sorting through the papers and documents…make sure all of the official papers go to the archives…anything personal or private can be set aside and I will sort through it later.”

“Thank you, my Lord, I would be honoured.” Lord Corrin bowed as if to take his leave but then stopped. “My Lord, there are some things that I need to discuss with you, things that you need to know!”

“Is it urgent?” Faramir asked puzzled.

“Not urgent, but it is important and not something that can be put off much longer, Sir.”

“Well, let us find somewhere a little more private and comfortable for this important discussion.” Faramir led the way to his own chambers and called for tea and refreshments. He sat down in a comfortable chair beside the fire and indicated to the Chamberlain to take his place opposite. Faramir observed the Chamberlain and realised that the man he had known all his life as his fathers most trusted and loyal servant was looking frail and old.

“I served your father for nearly fifty years,” the old man started, his eyes lost in the depths of the fire. “We started as fellow cadets together and learned to be soldiers, but I was never cut out to be military man and I was soon moved from active duty to administrative tasks. When your father received his first command I went with him as his Adjutant and when he became Steward I moved into the Citadel and became his Chamberlain; responsible for the running and management of the household. For fifty years I was his friend and confident…” his voice tailed off as he lost himself in long forgotten memories. Faramir waited in silence, watching the play of emotions cross his companions face; grief, loneliness and longing. He felt humbled that he had underestimated the depth of devotion that Corrin had harboured for his father.

The quiet voice continued. “Your father settled his affairs long ago. Your brother, as his eldest son and heir was to inherit his title and duties and the bulk of his personal holdings, which are quite considerable; those all now come to you. Your father inherited great wealth from his father but circumstances during his stewardship meant that he did little to increase his holdings and he merely lived off the profits. When you were born your parents wanted to ensure that you would be financially independent, they made over your mother’s marriage portion to be held in trust for you until your marriage.”

Faramir was stunned; he had never given a thought to inheritance or wealth. Long years enduring the harsh and unforgiving life of a ranger, so far removed from the comforts and conveniences of settled living, had driven them from his consideration.

“You are a very wealthy man, my Lord,” said the Chamberlain with a smile. “You are a man of property and commerce; you own trading ships, a vineyard, many fine properties in Dol Amroth plus a large reserve of gold. And that is not all; the Quartermaster informs me that neither you nor your brother ever drew your Army pay! There is now a considerable sum in the coffers with your name on it waiting to be collected.

“My father gave us a small allowance, enough to cover any living expenses…..but I don’t understand, what ships, what vineyard…who has been overseeing them all this time?” he asked in confusion, unable to comprehend this sudden turn of events. “What do I know of business and commerce…what am I to do with riches,” he stuttered, and then blushed at the naivety of his own question.

“Your uncle has managed those assets in Dol Amroth and I have been responsible for your Father’s affairs here in Gondor. You will need to speak to the Prince and decide how you wish to handle your affairs there and I will give you any assistance you need here for as long as you need me.”

Faramir, though still shocked, had enough wits about him to suddenly realise that the man in front of him was more than a faithful retainer, he was an ally; one who knew the city and the citadel inside-out, who knew the personalities and the procedures of the court and could be of invaluable assistance in the Steward’s quest to influence how the city and state were governed.

For the next hour the two men discussed Faramir’s concerns and when the meeting was over the Steward had a better understanding of not only how the Council had operated under Denethor’s rule but also how the system was open to abuse. The Chamberlain’s parting remarks gave Faramir much to think on.

“You have to remember, my Lord, your father was a canny and powerful leader. He ruled the council with a rod of iron, it was impossible to slip things passed him. But that’s not to say that he didn’t turn a blind eye to all of the councillor’s wiles; he allowed small transgressions as a means of controlling or preventing bigger deceptions. Both sides knew where the line was drawn and knew the penalty for overstepping the mark! Just remember that the King is as new to his role as you are to yours – he is a soldier at heart, not a politician; he relies heavily on the advice of his councillors!”  

****

The next meeting of councillors was not for two weeks and Faramir made good use of the intervening days to begin his search for understanding. His days settled into a routine that gave him little time for leisure or relaxation. He rose at dawn and spent an hour or more in the Houses of Healing with Tamir or the Warden receiving treatment for his arm and shoulder. After breaking his fast the morning was spent in his office researching past council business and studying archive records for information. He worked with a scribe, compiling notes and cross-referencing information. Tamir became his eyes and ears out and about in the city and down in the barracks; able to mingle with the merchants, soldiers and ordinary citizens in a way that Faramir, as Steward, could never have achieved. Afternoons were given over to improving his level of fitness and strength; riding out on the Pelennor with Legolas or Tamir, or sparring on the practice fields with them in his attempts to teach himself to use a light sword with his left hand; a task that left him reeling with frustration.  In the evenings he went back to his relentless search for information.

He had almost no contact with the King except for one stiff and stilted luncheon party. Organised by Arwen, it was only her presence that prevented it from descending into

embarrassing silence. The two men were so awkward and uncomfortable that they found little or nothing to talk about; both reading into the behaviour of the other disappointment and disapproval. After Faramir had excused himself and gone back to his quarters Arwen rounded on Aragorn and voiced her own dismay.

“What in the name of goodness was that all about,” she demanded. “What is going on between you two? Why is he so bowed that he won’t even look you in the eye...It wasn’t like this at Edoras…I thought you two got on well?” she said, hardly able to hide her distress.

“I don’t know….I really don’t know. He’s changed. He was different in Edoras after Éomer announced their betrothal; happy and open and full of fun….Legolas said he changed on the journey back; he thought it might just be bad memories from coming back to the city but I’m not so sure…perhaps he resents my being here!”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it. Faramir is one of the most loyal and honourable man I have ever met. He swore allegiance to you, he wouldn’t betray that vow. No, there has to be more to it than that.”

“Well, all I can do for now is to give him the space he needs to find his own way,” said the King, running is hands through his hair in frustration. “I want him here, I need him by my side but I can’t force his friendship or his trust. I can only hope that he finds his way here in his own time.”

*****

The day of the meeting of the Councillors arrived. In the chamber the table was set; the King’s place at the head and a place for Faramir at the far end of the table. In between, eight spaces for the King’s Councillors. Faramir took his place and motioned for his scribe to bring over a chair and take a seat at his side. He didn’t have to wait long for the rest of the attendees to arrive. They entered in groups and took their seats with barely a glimpse to acknowledge the silent Steward. Last to arrive; the King acknowledged their communal obeisance and drew the meeting to order.

“Gentlemen, I wish to take this opportunity to welcome Lord Faramir to our meeting today. He has recently returned from his convalescence in Rohan. He has requested that he be allowed time to familiarise himself with our procedures before he takes an active role in the pursuance of his duties as Steward,” explained the King. It didn’t escape his notice that some of the Councillors regarded the Steward with barely concealed scorn.

“Lord Faramir, do you wish you address the council,” the King invited, hoping that he would take the opportunity to make a positive impression on the grim faced councillors.

“Sire!” He got to his feet hesitantly and took a moment to compose his thoughts. His face partially concealed by a curtain of hair; he looked the picture of cowering uncertainty. “Gentlemen, thank you for your patience and forbearance,” he began, his voice quiet and wavering. “I have to admit to you that I know nothing of the nature of the ordering of our great city. I am a soldier by training and I served my late father in that capacity with pride and diligence. With your help and guidance I hope to be able serve my King and my country and fulfil my duties as Steward.” He sat down abruptly, blushing. As his eyes scanned the assembled company he noted the sly, self-satisfied grins exchanged by some of the councillors and the King’s look of sorrow.

“Perhaps, you could begin by explaining why we have an un-authorised person in attendance at what is a confidential meeting,” demanded the man to the King’s right.

“Lord Haralil, I don’t believe there is any need for belligerence,” the King cautioned, but Faramir raised his hand to forestall any further support from that quarter.

“I apologise, Sire, Gentlemen; I meant no disrespect to the dignity of this council. As you no doubt realise, my disability means that I am no longer able to write,” he said drawing attention to the sling supporting his disabled arm. “There is so much that I don’t know, so much that I need to learn to enable me to fulfil my duties; I cannot hope to remember everything that happens without notes to jog my memory. I was hoping that my scribe would be able to take notes for me….” he trailed off, sinking back into his seat.

“I’m sure that no one could object to easing Lord Faramir’s burden in this matter,” pronounced the King, moving the meeting forward quickly to matters on the agenda.

Faramir remained a largely passive observer of the proceedings, occasionally whispering quietly to his scribe and only participating when asked for his specific opinion. When the King finally pronounced the meeting over Faramir withdrew hastily to confer with his scribe and with Tamir, leaving the disgruntled King to entertain his councillors to luncheon.

TBC

Many thanks to everyone for their kind comments, you make my day.