"You know not what you are doing." The sweat shone on his face. Théoden King had been pacing for the last half hour, clenching his fists, walking towards her, then away. His voice was biting and harsh. His anger was potent.

Indis could feel it, understand it; yet she had to fight the urge to lash back. She had made one critical error already – treating him so coldly when she awoke to find the healer staring down upon her, breathing into her very being. Her sharp words had come back to haunt her. If only she had not been so angry with him. His taking command was natural. Was not he the King of Rohan? Her cheeks flamed red. 'He took charge because I am a woman!' She sat back, watching him pace, and wondered why that thought caused her, even now, to feel such anger. The man had always been kind to her. She wondered vaguely if he knew she were Denethor's counselor.

"My lord," she finally said in a moment of silence, "women do not ascend the throne in Rohan. I know that." She kept her voice quiet, not placating, but outwardly peace-filled. "Yet in Gondor, nay, in our ancestral home in ages past, a Queen sat on the throne. The eldest held the scepter; male or female, it made no difference. I do not presume to do that, even though I am the eldest and now the only heir of Ecthelion. I do not want to rule Gondor. I have no intention of becoming Queen nor Steward. Think now, my lord. Who would you tell me to accept as Steward?"

The King ceased his pacing, sat on his throne, and beckoned her to come forward. As she did, he pointed his hand towards Morwen's chair. She took it, sat clasping her hands tightly on its arms, and continued.

"Who, amongst those in the Council, would you have lead Gondor? You know them as well as I do. You know the scorn Denethor had for them all. Yet you would ask me to turn Gondor over to the likes of them!" Indis' heart raced. She took a breath, as deep as she could without him seeing it. She forced herself to calm. "Would you truly ask me to give away Boromir's birthright? I do not see any of those who would clamour for the title likely to give it back, once Boromir is of age. In fact, I do not see Boromir being allowed to live. Nor Faramir. Do you doubt this? I have no illusions about the men of Gondor. The good ones have been slain or lost to us." Her anger had turned to sorrow and pain. Another inhalation. "I beg your counsel, Théoden King, but do not base it upon Rohan's standards."

He bowed his head for a moment; then turned to her. "You believe Boromir and Faramir's lives are in jeopardy?"

"I do, my Lord."

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "Evil flourishes even in mighty Minas Tirith?"

"Aye, my Lord."

He rested his elbows on the arms of his throne and rubbed his forehead. "I believe you; your brother had spoken of treason before he left."

Startled, she looked up. "The Orc attack! Are you certain it was Orc? Or are you saying others…"

"Yes, I am certain it was Orc," the King interrupted her. "But I have many questions about the attack. Why was Denethor's company traveling so near to the foothills? Why were they not on the road?" He nodded at her look. "They were leagues south of the Great West Road. I had received missives reporting an increase in Orc activity in that area. I had cautioned your brother to stay on the road. I am afraid he was led astray. By whom, I do not know. I have no proof. Others may say he was strong-willed and made some excuse to leave the road for the adventure, but I do not believe that. Yes, Indis, I say it was murder."

They sat silent for a long while.

"Next will be his sons, unless you give up this plan. Prince Adrahil can rule Gondor. Had you considered him?"

"I had not. He is… stubborn. His loyalty is to Belfalas only. I trust him," she acknowledged, "but I do not believe he will leave Dol Amroth."

"You are probably correct. There is his son, Prince Imrahil."

"I had not thought of him when I made the decision."

"Denethor loved him, that I know. Did not his men fight with Gondor's Knights at the Battle of Osgiliath just soon passed?"

"They did." She sighed. "He would be a worthy Regent. But only a Regent, for Boromir must become Steward."

"I agree. I think Prince Imrahil will govern Gondor well, until Boromir comes of age."

"Then it is settled in your mind? You think it more fitting that a man take this position?"

"Nay. That is not what I meant… and yet it is. Do you believe the Council will accept you as Regent? Do you want another Kin-strife? That is what will happen, I believe, if you do this. Prince Imrahil is young but respected. He will be accepted. He will be able to hold Gondor together until Boromir takes the Rod."

She put her hands together and sighed once more. "Grief and fear took hold of me. You speak wisely, Théoden King. I will send a missive to Prince Adrahil asking him to send his son to Minas Tirith. I will swear him to secrecy; then beseech him to encourage Prince Imrahil to sit on the Steward's Chair. When the Prince comes, I will offer the Regency to him, but not the Rod. I will place the Rod in the Treasury until Boromir takes his rightful place as Steward."

"That is not the end of our problems, Indis," Théoden King said. "Whoever murdered Denethor will still want the rule of Gondor. Your brother did not have many enemies. He was not murdered for revenge, or anger, but for power. The Knights and the might of Belfalas will protect Prince Imrahil. Who will protect Boromir and Faramir? If we let it be known that Boromir is to take the throne on his twenty-first birthday, they will look for a way to eliminate him. I think you must use subterfuge and declare Prince Imrahil as the next Steward of Gondor."

She recoiled at the thought. "Nay! It is too dangerous. Boromir will never become Steward if this happens. You speak of Kin-strife, and rightfully so. Once the Prince is seated as Steward, do you not think the Council and the people will grow accustomed to his rule? Then, when it is time for Boromir to replace him, will they allow it? We leave Boromir open for strife and chaos. I would another way!"

"Prince Imrahil will never allow that to happen. When his father passes, he will have Belfalas to rule. He is not greedy. The people will understand that. You will see."

Tears filled her eyes. "My brother… if there is any bond between our world and where he has gone, then he will be most distraught. I can hardly bear the thought."

"I understand. Do not fear. Prince Imrahil will hand the Rod to Boromir when the appointed time arrives. You are most wise to agree to this. Now, we must look to the preparations for the trip to Minas Tirith."

She hardly heard any further, though Théoden King spoke for nigh unto an hour. He sent for a scribe who wrote his instructions down. Then the King sent for Théodred, who took the papers and ran off to fulfill his father's commands. At last, he rose, helped her rise, kissed her on the cheek, and sent her off.

'Sent me off is exactly what he did,' she fumed as she walked the hallways towards her own chambers. 'What kind of men are these Rohirrim? Sending women off to do their duty. Not like soldiers, though. Nay! Like drudges. With no brains.' She was livid by the time she entered her room. Slamming the door closed, she stopped.

"What are you doing here?" she angrily questioned the healer.

"I heard of your meeting with Théoden King. It did not go well."

"How do you know?" Indis wondered; had the woman been hiding somewhere in the hall?

"Slammed doors are the sign of angry minds."

"Forgive me, Ragnhild. My mind is awhirl with suspicion, anger, and frustration."

"Sit here, my lady. I have prepared a tea, made of fresh herbs, that will calm you."

Indis looked at her questioningly.

"My lady, if I am to be your counselor, you must trust me. Else I cannot counsel. I can do naught but take back my pledge to aid you and leave."

Indis sighed and then laughed bitterly. "All I have done today is sigh. I am limited in what I may do. I feel… caged." She started to pace the floor, caught herself doing the same thing Théoden had been doing, and laughed again. She looked about the room. "Where are the children? Boromir and Faramir?" A slight chill ran down her spine.

"They are with Éomund and Théodwyn. They have taken them to see some new colts."

"They are too kind. Only just wed these past few days and already watching children."

"I think," Ragnhild said, "that they will have many children." She smiled. "They are good hearted and well suited for each other. The children will return shortly. Perhaps you would like some help preparing yourself for the watching ceremony? We will wake the fallen from before sundown till first star. I believe Théoden King means to leave for Gondor shortly after the breaking of the morrow's fast."

"How could he? Is the body here already?" Indis fell to her knees. "By the Valar," she moaned, "I have forgotten Arciryas in all this. Where is he? Is he here in Edoras? Where have they laid him?"

"He is here. He will not be laid out as Denethor will; yet his body will be held in high esteem. He is in the antechamber of Théoden King's own study. Would you go to him now?"

"Aye. Now." She shuddered, pulled her robe about her, and followed Ragnhild.