Ch. 24 - Trust Repaired

‘It is not wise to trust completely,’ he remembered Elrohir telling him Erkenbrand’s words. ‘Well, the Horse Lord will have learned that he was right,’ Aragorn thought regretfully.

He saw the knife slip into Elrohir’s hand, saw the surprise on Erkenbrand’s face as the blade touched his throat, saw the whispered words, and felt a great sadness. The leech clucked over him repeatedly asking, ‘Does this hurt? Does that hurt?’ And all the while, Aragorn played his part.

Erkenbrand watched silently as Elladan pulled his own knife and walked towards the leech. The Rohir’s eyes grew wide; he immediately stopped the struggle that he had begun. Elrohir put his finger to his mouth to order silence, then walked backwards out of the hut pulling the captain with him. Elladan watched in silence.

At last, the leech offered a warm cup of mead to Aragorn. “Drink this slowly, son. Your insides need to be as warm as your outside. That is why your stomach is roiling. You will feel better in the morning. Sleep now,” he said kindly. Surprised, he wiped away the tear from Aragorn’s cheek. “Is the pain so bad?” he asked in concern.

Aragorn shook his head. “Nay,” he whispered. “Thank you. I feel much better.”

The man patted Aragorn’s shoulder gently. “I promise, you will feel better on the morrow.” Then he packed his little bag of medicaments and walked out of the hut.

Elladan sat heavily in a chair in the corner; he could not meet Aragorn’s eyes.

Aragorn lay quietly trying to justify what had just happened. The men of the Mark were brave and he cherished their friendship and their courage. It felt so wrong to be deceiving them like this.

Elladan sat on the chair twirling the knife in his hand. The sun was close to setting and he was growing concerned. Elrohir had not yet returned.

Finally, the back flap moved as if someone were hitting it lightly. Elladan stood and ran to it. Lifting the flap, Elrohir stepped inside, the captain behind him. “It took longer than I thought,” the Elf said exasperatedly. “There was no fodder for the horses in their stalls and there was no food for us. After a little gentle persuasion, the captain showed me their supply tent. The horses are ready and packed. Where is the leech?”

“He left as soon as he was done,” Aragorn said. He stood and walked to Erkenbrand’s side. “He is a good man. Forgive us.”

Erkenbrand snarled. “I will not.”

Elrohir turned from the captain and took Aragorn by the arm. “Are you well enough to travel?”

“I am. Let us be off now. I would have us away so that we may send this man back to his own people as quickly as possible.” He turned towards Erkenbrand again. “It is your own king who places us in this impossible situation. We must help our friend. He is a young boy.” Aragorn’s eyes lit with understanding. “You were never told who we go to save?”

Erkenbrand just sneered. “No matter who it is, you defy my king’s decree!”

“Come here!” He pulled the captain down onto the cot and sat next to him.

“Estel, we do not have time for this,” Elladan hissed. “If someone sees the horses tethered at the back of this tent, they will raise the alarm.”

“I cannot leave without this man understanding. Captain Erkenbrand – we go to help the Steward of Gondor, Faramir, of the House of Húrin.”

Erkenbrand stood in amaze. “What say you? You know of Faramir’s illness?”

“We do. Mithrandir brought me the news weeks ago. We have come all the way from Imladris to help the boy. Will you not help us?”

“It is still against my king’s law, but I will do it. Though I be sentenced to death, I will help you. Still, I will not allow my men to be part of this. They cannot be punished for my actions. We will play false and say that you are indeed taking me against my will; they will be protected by that.”

“Do any of your men read?,” Aragorn asked. At Erkenbrand’s nod, he stood and grabbed parchment and wrote, ‘We are taking your captain as a hostage. Do not follow us, else he die.’ He used a knife to stab the note onto the table. “That should protect them and might keep them from following us. At least for a time. Come, now, we must be away. Night is here and time is not our ally.”

~*~

The inn was clean and had room for both parties. They did not speak to each other, but Ragnhild left a message with Targon to give to their guard telling them of their room location and to meet them once the sun set.

After they had cleaned the road’s dirt from them, Ragnhild and Aerin walked to the town’s square. Tarnost was small and Ragnhild was surprised that anyone from here had become a member of Gondor’s Council. There was a building near the center of the square that flew the flag of Gondor on its roof. Ragnhild decided this must be where the ruling body for the town had their meetings.

She walked in with her head bowed. There was not much activity in the one-room building, just an old man sitting on a chair, leaning haphazardly against the wall.

”Who ya lookin’ for?” he asked.

”I wondered if you might have need of a healer, here in Tarnost? I’m from the city, but there isn’t much need there, what with the Houses of Healing and all.”

”Not good enough for them, huh?” The man laughed sourly. “They think they’re better than the rest of us, up there in their White City.”

”I noticed that. Hard to get work if you don’t accept the Steward’s ways,” she said circumspectly. “I’m sure lots of folk think that here?”

”Not all. The common folk think that the Steward can do no wrong, but there are a few lords here who know the real score.”

”I would prefer to work, of course, for the lords of your town. Might you have a name or two of those who are more prone to our position that might hire a healer?”

”I do. Of course, there’s Lord Dagnir and then his son too has his own house, that’s Lord Minastir.  I only know them two who are outright for Tarnost and not Minas Tirith, but you’ll find them agreeable to help with other names. The Steward don’t give us much notice here in the wilds.” He laughed an unpleasant laugh.

She joined him. “I can’t thank you enough. We’ve had hardly any work since leaving the city and our purses are thin. Where is Lord Dagnir’s house located?”

He walked her towards the door and pointed to a large, ornate home not but a few paces away.  A huge fountain graced its outer courtyard and pillars lined its entrance. Ragnhild threw a stern glance towards Aerin, who, she noted, was stifling laughter.

“I thank you again, sir. We’re staying at the Tarnost Hills Inn. If we may be of service, just ask for Ragnhild.” She bowed and walked away, pulling Aerin with her.

“You will get us both killed,” she whispered furiously, but the anger that should have been in her response was overcome by the laughter that fell from her own lips. “Never have I seen such an ornate house, except on the Sixth Level. I cannot believe the people accept this lord and his high and mighty ways without a little scorn.”