2

It was a wonder beyond believing! It seemed a king of old had indeed come to the City of Kings. His touch, his words, his very presence brought healing to those who had fallen beneath the Black Breath. And to think, he used athelas! Athelas, of all the herbs that serve any healing need at all, simple athelas bruised and cast into steaming hot water. We had been taught it was good for naught but curing headaches and a bit of a lifting of the spirits. It appears there will need to be some rethinking of the herb’s uses. Yet, perhaps kingsfoil is only at its most potent in the hands of the King, for so Lord Faramir named the stranger. Yes, perhaps that is how it earned it’s common name of kingsfoil; in the hands of the King only is it able to foil the soul darkening Black Breath.

I had followed the perian, Peregrin of the Citadel Guard, first to the reviving of the Steward, then to that of the Lady of Rohan and lastly to that of his kinsman. We arrived a bit behind time, the Lord Aragorn already knelt beside the large bed upon which lay the small perian. His kinsman looked near to death and Peregrin rushed to the bedside. Soon, the fragrance of athelas filled the room and the ill perian awoke. The joy with which Peregrin greeted his relation left no doubt of their closeness and I wondered if they were, perchance, brothers. I stayed in Meriadoc’s chamber only as long as the King, feeling I would be less obviously present where I had not been invited nor commanded to be if I assumed my role as an apprentice. I brought the King food, then went with him and the sons of Lord Elrond to bring healing to others in the City who had come under the shadow. At last, I returned to my own room and slept.

It was later in the day, near to the coming of dusk, that I saw Peregrin again. I had slept well, bathed and supped, so I felt ready to return to my duties. I could tell as soon as I spied him that the same could not be said of the perian. His complexion was pale with his eyes surrounded by smudgy shadows. He stumbled a bit as we drew abreast, and I reached out my hand to steady him. For the first time since I had begun to observe him, we spoke.

“There now,” I said, “have you your balance, Peregrin of the Tower Guard?”

“I do, and thank you . . .eh, my apologies, sir, I don’t know your name.”

“Parsow son of Thalmin, apprentice healer, at your service.”

“Peregrin son of Paladin at yours and your family’s,” he replied quite properly. “It seems to me I noticed you passing through the door a lot as I was standing guard, but . . .” He blinked and looked perplexed. “But . . . perhaps not. I seem to be a bit befuddled. My days and nights seem all run together.”

“It was as you said, Master Peregrin. My duties took me past you a good many times during that dire day and evening.”

“Dire indeed,” he muttered as a slight shiver passed through him. Yet, when he looked at me, he smiled. “Good then! I’m not as confused as I thought I was, though it seems as though time is as amuck here as it was in Lothlorien and what happened merely a day ago seems as though it were weeks ago.”

He sighed, rubbing at his weary eyes with the back of one hand.

“Perhaps you should take some rest, Master Peregrin. You seem weary, if I may say so.”

“No!” he said sharply. “No. I’m fine,” he continued more calmly. “Quite all right. Not tired at all. It’s best if I keep busy. Yes. Much better when I’m busy. In fact, I need to get back to my duties. I . . . I . . .”

He stopped, closing his eyes and swaying a bit as he obviously was trying to remember what it was he had been on his way to do. “Faramir,” he finally said, opening his eyes and giving me a nod of his head. “Lord Faramir, I should say. I - I was on my way to see whether he had any needs I could attend to. Yes. Yes, off to see to the Lord Steward as that is my duty. It has been my duty my whole time in Minas Tirith, to see to the needs of the Steward.”

His breath caught a bit as a look of pain crossed his countenance.

“I must be off. Must attend to my duties. Perhaps I shall look in on the Lady Eowyn as well. It is a pleasure to meet you . . .” He looked at me expectantly.

“Parsow,” I supplied my name to him.

“Yes, of course. Good day to you, Parsow”

With that he scurried off on somewhat unsteady feet. Feet that I noticed looked as though they had been badly scraped beneath the thatch of hair that covered the tops of them.

* * * * * * * * *

Night fell over the city. I cautiously edged one eye past the frame of the doorway I stood beside. I had heard correctly. Peregrin, the perian Guard of the Citadel, was easing himself down from the chair beside the bed of the Lady Eowyn.

I will admit to following him. I had spoken of him with young Bergil. I had watched the perian these past two days. Peregrin had impressed me with his love and care for the injured nobles, not only for his kinsman. I was deeply concerned for his well being; it was obvious he was exhausted and I was certain he had sustained damage of some sort to his feet.

He had gone first to the Steward, had fetched him his evening meal, tidied up afterwards then made sure the pillows and blankets were adjusted to the young Steward’s liking (though all this should have been done by a first-year apprentice or one of the women who assist with patient care). The perian had then gone to the Lady of Rohan’s chamber.

She was sulky and cross, though he bore her mood quite patiently. He fetched her meal as well, unaware that a sleeping powder had been mixed into her drink. The master healers had feared she would not rest, so they made certain that she would. Peregrin sat beside her as she fell asleep. Now he was leaving her room.

He went, as I expected he would, to the room of his kinsman; Meriadoc, Rider of Rohan and Esquire to their king.

There was a small lamp lit, sitting upon the table beside the recovering perian. Its light did not reach into the corners of the room. I am quite sure that I overstepped the bounds of my duties, as I moved silently into the room while Peregrin was disrobing. I felt the need to make sure the small soldier of Gondor finally took some rest. I stood in the shadows where I would be able to see him if he should lay facing his kinsman, yet certain that he would not see me.

He stripped to his short clothes, then noticeably shivering, eased himself up into the bed. It was more than big enough for both of them as they are no larger than our children. He moved awkwardly, and I noticed that he was trying to keep a sizable distance between his feet. When at one point they did touch each other he winced as though it pained him. Peregrin was careful to not jostle his kinsman, but after he was settled upon his left side, he did reach out, holding Meriadoc’s right hand for a moment. Then he tucked his arm beneath the blanket. The soft light of the lamp made the shadows around Peregrin’s eyes appear even darker.

“I’m cold, Merry,” he said through teeth that chattered slightly. “Not as cold as - as you were, but I’m colder than I ought to be. It really isn’t that cold here. But I’m cold anyway. Your hand is warmer.” He smiled a bit as he said this. “Nearly as warm as it usually is, though I perhaps can’t judge that too well as I’m cold.”

Peregrin blinked sleepily and I thought he might nod off, but no, he shook it off.

“I was hoping you would be awake, Merry.” He cast his eyes downward. “Although I shouldn’t, I suppose. You need your rest, after all you’ve been through. And I’ve the feeling we let you sit out in the garden for too long. It was good to hear what had happened with Strider, Legolas and Gimli though. But you need your rest. You . . . I . . .”

He seemed to lose the thread of his monologue for a moment. He again looked as though he might fall asleep but instead continued talking.

“I’m cold Merry. I oughtn’t be, but I am. I wanted to talk to you, but I don’t suppose I really should, or that you should as it might be too much for you right now and I wouldn’t want you ill again. Perhaps I should just get up. It really is better when I’m busy, and I’m sure there are things I can be doing. Maybe I won’t be cold if I get up and go on duty.”

The exhausted perian was repeating himself, to me yet another indication of his condition; that and his feeling cold. I’ve seen this in master healers and in other apprentices when battle or epidemic force us to work long hours. I have gone through it myself more than once.

“Best that you not think about it all,” Peregrin said, then his face brightened a bit. “But since you are asleep I don’t think it will do any harm for me to talk about it all, though I won’t get any answers from you. I just . . . I wanted to know . . . How did you do it, Merry? How did you get that close to . . . it?”

His voice was soft but filled with tension. I knew what he was asking. Everyone in the Houses knew of the great deed done by The White Lady of Rohan and the perian who had ridden to battle with her. Peregrin’s left hand had worked its way from under the bedclothes to fidget and tug at the edge of the blanket by his neck and right shoulder. This happened in a manner suggesting to me this was a common gesture, that he was accustomed to toying with some article of clothing in times of stress. I strained to listen as he continued.

“I - I didn’t get anywhere near that close, Merry. Nowhere near as close as you and Lady Eowyn did.” He no longer looked at his kinsman’s face but stared off into one of the dark corners of the room. Fortunately for me, not the corner in which I stood, or he might have seen me. “I covered my ears so tightly it hurt, then . . . then I . . .” Peregrin closed his eyes in a grimace of pain. His voice was filled with shame. “I cowered in the shadows. Down upon my knees with my ears covered and my eyes closed. I tried to hide myself while everything in me begged that the wraith wouldn’t see me.”

For a long moment, Peregrin lay silently until I thought perhaps sleep had overtaken him. And perhaps it had for he jerked as a sleeper does before his eyes opened wide and he spoke again.

“How did you do it, Merry? You got close enough to - to stab it . . . him. He would have killed the Lady if you hadn’t stabbed him. How, Merry? How did you . . . I’ve looked up to you and loved you my whole life, but I feel as though I don’t know you. Who is this hobbit that was able to do such a great deed? You’re like a brother to me, Merry. I’ve looked up to you, but I’ve never been in awe of you before. I am now.”

He looked long at his kinsman, as though doing so might elicit a response. Soon, his eyes lost their focus, and the lids slid down.

Peregrin slept at last.

I stood in the shadows, watching as his body slowly relaxed, listening to his even breathing. I told myself I should go. I had duties to see to and it was not my place to stand and stare as the two pheriannath slept. But, I seemed rooted to the floor, knowing I should leave yet unable to do so.

Time passed, a quarter hour perhaps though surely no more than that.

Peregrin jerked in his sleep. He began to moan and mutter, grimacing as he did so.

“A hobbit,” he said then his moans grew sharper and louder before suddenly cutting off. Softly, gradually, his muttering began anew. “No. You can’t . . . He isn’t dead. Why? . . . Why would a father? . . . Fools! They did as he asked . . . He has a Seeing Stone . . . No!”

The last ‘no’ was nearly a shout. Peregrin’s eyes flew open, his breath came in pants as he looked anxiously about the room. I drew back further into the shadows. I could tell from the drape of the blankets that his feet had come closer together, they touched, and he grimaced before setting them well apart as he had when he first got into the bed. His gaze finally fell upon his kinsman.

“Merry? Did I wake you, Merry?”

Peregrin gently touched Meriadoc’s hair and cheek then withdrew his hand. “No,” he sighed, “I didn’t wake you.”

Peregrin rubbed at his forehead. “It’s no good, Merry. I’m really not that tired. It isn’t that I can’t . . .” He shivered. “It isn’t that I can’t sleep or anything like that. I’m fine, truly. I should just get up. Everything is better when I’m busy. But I’m cold and tired, and I wanted to talk to you, though perhaps I shouldn’t.”

Again, he was repeating what he had already said. I understood better now. I remembered he had been ordered off duty. I was certain he had been ordered to take his rest, but it was obvious that he could not do so. I would see whether there was aught I could do if he again fell asleep. Until such time I could not move from my place in the shadows.

Peregrin stared off into a corner of the room once more; strain showed on his features.

“I was frightened. Frightened the whole time we rode to get here, or well, whenever I was awake I was frightened. I . . . I slept a lot I think.” He blinked a bit, his eyes looking sleep filled, but he continued on. “He made him - Gandalf made Lord Denethor that is - he made him sound frightening. *‘Be careful of your words.’* he said. *‘He’s proud and subtle. Do not tell him more than you need’* he said. *‘Leave quiet the matter of Frodo’s errand, say nothing about Aragorn either.’* he said. It made me anxious.”

“He insulted me, us . . . eh, Lord Denethor did that is. Made it seem as though you and I had done something devious so that we were not killed when Bor . . .”

He gasped in a short tight breath, as one might when taken by a sharp, sudden pain. The perian’s eyes closed as he struggled to master himself. Eventually, his face relaxed a bit, his eyes opened to stare up into the dark corner again.

“That was when I offered my service to him. I owed it to Boromir, to give myself to the land he loved so dearly.” The lad was quiet for a bit, but his eyes remained open.

“*’Though the Stones be lost’* Denethor said . . . the stones. Seven Stars and Seven Stones and one White Tree . . . He saw me, Merry, Lord Denethor saw me when . . .” A deep shudder ran through him from head to toe. “He has one, Merry. He had a Seeing Stone and - and he - he . . . he had been using it. Using the horrid thing, Merry. No wonder . . . no wonder he . . .” Peregrin’s voice became a whispered chant. “He was mad. He tried to kill his own son. He was going to burn himself to death. Burn Faramir to death. I know the voice he had been listening to. I know who spoke to him from the Stone. I know. He knew I knew. He knew . . . Merry. He . . . knew.”

His eyes glazed over, the lids slowly covered them and sleep took him. I cautiously moved to the doorway then looked up and down the corridor to try to find a fellow apprentice or one of the errand lads. I hesitated to leave the room. After a few moments Bergil came around the far corner down the hallway to the right.

“Bergil!” I called to him.

“Yes, Parsow?”

“I’ve an urgent errand for you. Unless wherever you were heading was already a matter of life or death, I would ask you do this for me first.”

“It wasn’t that urgent an errand. What would you have me do?”

“Do you know which tent beyond the City Walls is that of the lord who brought the Lord Faramir back to us?”

“I do. He had asked to be kept informed of the condition of all those he healed last night. I have been there several times today.”

“Go as quickly as you can. Tell the lord that the perian who wears the livery of the Tower Guard, Peregrin, is in dire need of his healing touch.”

Bergil paled. “Pippin! What troubles him? Is it . . . is it the same as what ailed his cousin and the others?”

I made note that Meriadoc and Peregrin are cousins and that Peregrin has a less formal name, ‘Pippin’, he has allowed others to use. “I don’t think so. He is exhausted and troubled in his mind to the point where he is unable to sleep. Go quickly.”

“Lord Aragorn will come. He and Pippin are friends,” Bergil called over his shoulder as he ran back the way he had come.

I moved from the corridor back into the room, though this time I stayed near the door; the better to watch over Pippin as I waited for the one Lord Faramir had named his King to arrive.