Ch. 21 - Spies

They were past the garrison at Nardol when the blizzard struck. Certain they would have been seen if they kept upon the open road, Indis was relieved when the storm hit.

They found the cave they had stayed in on their way from Edoras back to Minas Tirith. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. It was such a short time ago. So much had happened since that time. If only she could stop time, go back to this cave on that day, and hide here forever! Her world had crumbled - to be able to start over again. To have Boromir alive and Faramir well. She settled Faramir in heavy blankets as Gorlim started a small fire. Then, she hid in a corner of the cave and succumbed to grief.

At last, Gorlim joined her. "I cannot see you suffer alone, my Lady. Will you lean on me, just for a moment? I would tell you that you are not alone in your sorrow." The soldier's eyes were kind as he sat next to her. "I would not presume to, but I cannot sit idle by and let you suffer alone."

She looked towards Théodred and Faramir. The Rohir lay next to the Gondorian. When last they were here, it was Boromir who had slept with his hand around Faramir’s shoulders. She wept bitterly.

Gorlim touched her knee; she turned and flung her arms about him, sobbing frantically. He held her and his sorrow deepened. He remembered her when she would sit next to Ecthelion at the Council meetings. Strong and wise, he had oft thought how blessed Arciryas was, to be wed to such a woman. When it was his turn, he would stand as guard, watching over the attendees, listening to Denethor, whom he greatly admired, and watching Indis. He took in a quick breath. It was useless to even dwell on such times. The customs of Gondor were set in the stone of Aulë long before his eldest ancestor was born.

Her sobs quieted and he, looking down upon her, smiled. She slept. The silence of the cave was complete. What little fire they had had was slowly waning. He did not want to move; she slept so peacefully, but he must stoke the fire. A sound caught his attention. Without hesitation, he placed his hand over her mouth and gently shook her. “Something is outside.”

Her eyes widened in understanding; they both stood, swords drawn.

~*~

Imrahil paced across the study. ‘There are days,’ he thought ruefully, ‘when I wish I were back home.’ He stopped and motioned to the guard. “Arantar. Tell the Lady Ragnhild that I wish to speak with her.” The guard saluted and left. ‘If only I had not sent Éomund to Pelargir. I knew Indis wanted to leave as soon as possible. Now they are separated when I wanted his full strength with her. But who could have known the woman would set out so quickly!’

Ragnhild entered the room and he smiled. “Thank you for your promptness, my Lady.”

“You have only to call, my Lord, you know that. Is there aught I might do for you?”

“I need to send someone to Calembel and Tarnost.” He smiled. “Since you are so well versed in long journeys in times of desperate need, I thought I might send you.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Would this have anything to do with spying, my Prince?”

“I had sent Arantar and Éomund to Pelargir to discover if treachery had spread to that land. They found none. Éomund has returned. He took but a moment’s rest and has followed Indis. However, I surmise that there is marked disloyalty in the city of Calembel. Ohtar’s perfidy has probably spread. I must send someone to Tarnost and Calembel to assess the damage. Would you go? I would not send you alone, of course. Arantar would accompany you along with a company or two of my men.”

She smiled. “If I go in Arantar’s company, I will find nothing wrong. A gaggle of soldiers wandering about the city would be most detrimental to your cause. But,” and here her smile widened, “if I may go in disguise, as a displaced healer, I could ascertain the extent of the treason.”

He laughed. “You are truly a worthy councilor for our Lady Indis. When will you leave and who will you take with you?”

“I have made friends with a few of the healers; there is one there who is quite able to help with defense as well as deceit. And there is a certain cook’s apprentice who showed himself well during the…” Her eyes clouded in sadness. “during Boromir’s captivity. His name is Targon. He is most intelligent and would be a great help to me, I am sure. Though he fancies himself a cook.”

“How did… Oh! Is he the one who slipped the key to Éomund in the dungeons?”

“Aye! And the one who found and rescued Boromir from the hands of that snake, Amandil. The lad thinks on his feet and that is what will be needed on this adventure.”

“Very well. Take these two with you, but also, find a soldier or two from the Third Guard. I cannot leave you traveling alone. Once you reach these cities, enter separately and then stay at the same inn. Do not do anything unwise, Ragnhild. If I lose you, Indis will never forgive me.”

She laughed, bowed and left. Hurrying towards the buttery, she weighed her options. ‘Should I take a horse? Nay! Only the rich travel by horse. Well, a nag. I could take a nag. Nay! A cart with a nag pulling it. That way I can take my medical bag and a few medicaments. Must look the part, I suppose.’ She almost clapped her hands in delight; she had been stifled, sitting her in the City, waiting, waiting, waiting. ‘I can serve my Lady,’ she thought with glee, ‘in a way that she does not even suspect. Life is good!’