“My Prince?” his new guard stood at the door entrance.

“Galador. I am glad Arantar picked you as his replacement. What is it you require?”

“Thank you, my Prince.” The man blushed at the compliment. “Lord Ohtar wishes to speak with you about his son.”

“I told him I will speak with him in two day’s time.”

“Aye, my Prince.” The man bowed and left.

‘Now why would… I have forgotten! Dagnir has a son!’ He stood in alarm. “Galador!” he shouted. “Send for Arantar. He should be at the stables by now. I need him back here immediately.”

The knight bowed and ran out the door. Within a short time, Arantar appeared before him. “My Prince?” he said breathlessly, holding his side from the stitch in it. He had run as if the very beasts of the Enemy were after him.

“I have a further errand for you. Ragnhild is in Tarnost. She must be told of Dagnir’s death. Lord Dagnir’s son must be arrested, if she believes he is part of the conspiracy. Take three companies with you; I am uncertain of the force you will meet, and arrest Lord Minastir, take their holdings and place them in trust for the Steward, then return to me. Also, take Angbor with you. Once you have accomplished this task, send him to Edhellend. He need not return here with you.”

“Aye, my Lord. I will do as you command.” The soldier hesitated for a moment and Imrahil waited. “If we meet resistance, my Prince, should we fire upon our people?”

“Nay. I am hoping, with such a large force at your back, that there will be no resistance. Use the courtly ways you have learned under my tutelage, Arantar. Keep kin-strife from us. Gondor cannot afford further suffering.”

The Swan Knight nodded, his jaw set. Imrahil heard the whispered words as the warrior left the room. “Not on your watch, my Prince. Not on your watch.”

~*~

“I received a missive from Balan and Baran two hours ago. They asked me to meet them here. I had only arrived when they were arrested. Thankfully, I was not yet involved.”

“Why would they send a message to you? Who are you?” Ragnhild could not keep the doubt from her voice.

“I am a retired knight of Gondor. Borondir is my name. I served under the Lord Denethor twenty years ago. I was maimed in a fight with Orcs and retired to this, my homeland. Balan and Baran were young soldiers under me. We have been friends ever since. Did they not tell you this when you set out on your journey?”

“They did not – and I think I will strangle them both for the omission. They could have saved me much concern. So, do you know why I am here?”

“Nay. But I surmise it has to do with a certain treasonous lord of Tarnost?”

“Dagnir has a reputation?”

“He does. He speaks highly of… he spoke highly of Denethor, but always, he sowed seeds of frustration and anger amongst the nobles here. He spent no time trying to sway the people, for you will find they are fiercely loyal to Gondor. Proud to be Gondorians. And, as you heard in today’s little discussion, proud of their Elven ancestry as well. It has been an uphill battle for Dagnir. But he wields the troops here and he has power as a member of Gondor’s Council. It is difficult to fight him. What are your orders?”

“I am to find how far the treason has spread, ascertain, if I can, who is involved besides Dagnir and Ohtar of Calembel, then report back to Prince Imrahil.”

“Again, you speak of things I do not know. Why is the prince ordering from Minas Tirith? Where is Faramir? He is not dead as well?” There was horror in the man’s face and that, along with his words, assuaged some of Ragnhild’s fears.

“Denethor and many of his men were killed, murdered, as they left the Mark. Young Boromir was also killed, but later, in the city itself by one of the Council. You must have heard that Amandil took the Rod whilst Boromir was still in Edoras? Well, never mind that. Amandil’s men killed Boromir and many others. In the end, Gondor’s forces prevailed; the knights of Gondor, along with Imrahil and Théoden King, overcame the traitor and his men and retook Minas Tirith. I cannot tell all the details now, but Faramir lies as if dead; I know not if he fades or was taken by some spell” She thought it best not to tell of the clandestine journey to save the boy. “Indis, sister to Denethor, was made Regent, while Faramir, even unconscious, was named Steward. During the Steward’s illness, the Lady Indis asked Prince Imrahil to oversee the city, which he agreed to. Hence, my orders from him.”

“That is distressing news you bring, Ragnhild.” The man shook his head and then lowered it. “It was… difficult to hear of Lord Denethor’s death. The tale here about was that Denethor had been killed in an Orc ambush. That Boromir was taken by fever. And that Faramir had taken up the Rod. I did not know they had taken the Rod from the boy. I wish I had been in the City.” She heard a sob and looked up in surprise.

“I would have much liked to deal out justice for the Lord of the Tower Guard, for my Captain-general.”

Ragnhild sat back in her chair, fingering her flagon. “It was not a pretty sight, Borondir. Many brave men died the day we took the Tower back.”

“We? You were there?”

“I was. The women of the Mark do not stand about helplessly. Even leeches learn to wield a sword. The threat of death is always near to hand. It is a heartrending thing to stand and watch a boy cut down.” Her own tears fell in the remembrance. “I will speak of it no more. I have a duty to perform.” She grit her teeth. “I would ask for your help.”

“It is already sworn, for you are the Steward’s swordhand and I will follow you. What can I do?”

“For now, nothing. I am weary from travel and from the events of this day. I will retire now. We must meet on the morrow, but I know not where nor how. I do not want to bring unnecessary attention to either of us by risking exposure.”

“I come here for breakfast every morning. Many of those loyal to Gondor do, old soldiers and such. I will wait for you.”

She nodded, yawned and stood. “Thank you. My heart is much at ease, now that we have talked. I will see you on the morrow.”

~*~

Indis moaned as she felt strong hands around her waist. She immediately stiffened; the action caused intense pain to shoot through her lungs. She cried out.

“I am sorry, my Lady. You will be safe and warm in but moments.”

She did not recognize the voice, but ‘it is not an Orc.’

The voice laughed. “Nay, my Lady. I am Durahil, Captain of Amon Dîn. You have been rescued, due to your friend, Listöwel’s, fervor.”

She tried to open her eyes, but the jolting of what she now recognized as a horse’s movement, wrecked havoc with the pain in the back of her head.

“Lean against me, my Lady. You are cold to the bone. My body will warm you, if you but trust me a little.”

She leaned back and a small sigh escaped her. “Thank you, Captain. Not only warmth, but comfort.” She waited a moment for fear to leave her, then “Théodred?”

“The young prince is alive. He is behind us. Siriondil has him. We are heading for a cave I know of that is but a short distance from here. The Master Healer says you need warmth more than a soldier’s outpost.”

She nodded and the warmth of the captain’s body put her to sleep.

When next she woke, she could feel tension in the captain’s body. She kept her mouth closed; questions spoken aloud, if the enemy was near, could spell disaster.

“My Lady,” she heard the captain whisper, “The cave I intended to take you to seems to be occupied. I am not sure by whom, but I am sending soldiers ahead. If it be Orcs, they will quickly clear them out. Do not fear. You are safe with me.”

She clenched the arm about her waist. “Stop,” she whispered furiously. A thrill of hope ran through her. “There were two others in our party. If this is the same cave we were attacked in, those two might yet live. Tell your men to take care, Captain. Please!”

“Of course.” He motioned and a soldier rode up next to him. He whispered something to the man and the soldier rode off. “They will take care. Now, lean back and rest. There is nothing further you can do.”