Ch. 10 - Plots and Portents

Once Théoden and Imrahil left Minas Tirith, life for her Regent became more difficult. If not for the love of Faramir and the kindness of Théodred, Indis wondered if she could have survived her first months as Gondor’s Regent.

With Faramir now away on the camping trip, she could put her undivided attention on the unease she felt growing in Gondor’s army. She called Ragnhild, her advisor, and Listöwel, her Captain-General, to her side. Leaning back in the heavy oaken chair that was Denethor’s, she closed her eyes as they settled themselves in her study. ‘My study. Yes. I must call it my study.’

“Mayhap you need a leech more, at the moment, than a counselor.” Ragnhild walked behind the chair and began to massage Indis’ shoulders and neck.

Indis let her arms fall limp and succumbed to Ragnhild’s ministrations.

“The tea is ready,” Listöwel finally broke the silence.

Indis smiled as her friend placed a steaming cup in front of her. “We have some grave matters to discuss, my friends. The army, as you both are well aware, is discontent. I believe some of that discontent can be placed upon the fact that you,” and she nodded her head towards Listöwel, “have been named my Captain-General.”

“Not some,” Listöwel laughed dryly.

Ragnhild joined her in laughter. “All!”

“Yes,” Indis rubbed her forehead, “I suppose all. Though the fact that I, a woman, am Regent bears a little blame, also.”

Ragnhild snorted. “I sometimes think if a man of Harad were named Regent, he would not be as ill-received as having a woman as Regent!”

“I know that well,” Indis sighed.

“Yet, Gondor has had women rulers. I have searched the archives and have found such instances. You stand on firm ground, Indis. Now, we need to make it firmer.”

“Thank you, Listöwel. You speak wisely. The Council meetings are a disappointment, though I should not be surprised. Denethor himself had difficulties with the lords. Why should it be different for me?”

“Lord Hurluin practically suggested you pack your bags and move to the Houses of Healing. As if a leech’s work is less important than a Regent’s!”

“Ragnhild,” Indis laughed for the first time that day, “the noises you made during his speech were beyond price! Though I do not think it helped our image.”

“Does a Regent need to be concerned about image? Nay! You need to be concerned with taking care of Gondor and that is triply difficult if the lords do not back you!”

“It is the army,” Listöwel broke in, “that needs to back you.”

Indis sobered. “Yes. And so – what do we do about the army?”

“Though we are not in a declared war, we do battle daily against the Enemy and his forces. Mayhap it is time to call a War Council. Appoint those captains we know to be loyal, meet once a month, and show them your expertise. By the Valar, Indis! You are old enough to be mother to most of them! You counseled Ecthelion himself. And your brother! Do they not remember that? Are they that foolish to think that Ecthelion would listen to you if you did not have a firm understanding of Gondor’s needs and the wisdom to advise him? Remind them of that – and they will become confident in your rule.”

“Ah, Listöwel, a good suggestion. A War Council. As long as we remain firm, have them know that they are a council and not a governing body, but that we value their service, their experience, their suggestions… A very good idea. Do you have any members in mind?”

“Borondir first!” Ragnhild smiled in appreciation of Listöwel’s suggestion. “Though he is retired, the men respect him. Ciramir – he is outspoken and brash, but he was your brother’s advisor. Húrin, though he is not in the military, if aught happens to Faramir or you, he would govern until a new Steward or Regent is named.”

“Speaking of which,” Ragnhild interrupted. “Have you thought of marrying again, Indis? Of trying to conceive. It would do Gondor good to have another in the line of Húrin just in case.”

Indis’ eyes opened wide in shock. She had just had this very same argument with Húrin as they broke their fast together this morning. She had soundly reminded him of her vow to Arciryas. Here again, she must explain herself. “I am seventy-five! If nothing else, I am seventy-five.” She swallowed hard. “Though I am of Númenórean blood, that does not mean I can conceive at this age. I have never heard of such a thing! And it is the custom of Gondor to have one mate for life. I do not wish to break that custom. My respect for my late husband would preclude that.”

Silence greeted her outburst. She finally continued, “Húrin has a son, just now promoted to captain, who is in the direct line of Mardil. If aught should happen to… If aught should happen, he should be made Steward. I spoke with Hurin this very morning and he agreed. As for Faramir, I have no presentiment that he will not live a long life as Steward. I do not have the gift of long sight that my brother had, but I feel it in my bones. Faramir will be Steward, mayhap until the King comes.”

~*~

Their allotted two days passed quickly. As night fell on the last day of their adventure, heavy sighs punctuated the air. At last, Borondir laughed. “If you continue with the sighing, the stars themselves will not come out. Too frightened to appear. We must go home tomorrow. I promised Indis.”

“I am sorry. I have had fun. Lots of fun. And I have learned so much. I never knew about the frogs, the call of the avocet and eagle, the shorelarks that come down from the north, all sorts of things. I think my head hurts, I have learned so much!”

Targon laughed. “And I have never cooked so many fish!”

“Oh!” Faramir cried. “We did not save any for the innkeeper. We have to fish again in the morning. We promised.”

“Of course we did.” Borondir looked at the sky. “I am afraid we will soon not see stars and I am concerned about early morning fishing. The sky looks like a storm is coming.”

“How can you tell?”

“Look at the moon. There is a circle about it. And look closely at the maples. Their leaves are curling. Signs like that usually mean a storm is coming. We might not be able to fish at all tomorrow. In fact, we might be in for a real drenching. Latch your tent flap tight tonight, in case the storm hits before morning.”

Faramir wrote this down in his journal. Borondir nodded in approval. “Now, to bed with the both of you. If the weather is fair, we want to be up early to fish; if it is foul, we want to be up early to leave. Sleep well.”

They scrambled into their tent and stayed up giggling until Borondir slapped the side of their tent. At last, after only a few more outbursts, they settled. The retired captain of Gondor began to pack their things. Once again, Durahil stepped out of the shadows. “I have pulled our pickets in a little closer this night, Captain.” He used the warrior’s last title in respect. “Since we will be leaving in the morning, I did not think it wise to have the men spread out too far.”

“The boys want to try fishing for a little again in the morning if the weather holds. But I agree. Bring the men in. Has there been any sign of beast or barbarian?”

Durahil smiled at that phrase. “Not many use the word barbarian.”

“Those from Dol Amroth do. For are not all those who give obeisance to the Nameless One barbarians?”

“I will not quibble with you on that point. I go now to set the pickets. Have a pleasant night.” He saluted and left Borondir, who banked the fire and retired.

~*~

Faramir woke sometime in the middle of the night and found his way to the privy they had dug. When he was finished, he threw in a handful or two of dirt and then went to the river to lave his hands. The fire glowed dimly, only embers left, but he had no trouble finding his way. As he stood up, he heard a sound and stiffened. Remembering his terror at what the soldiers later discovered was a rabbit’s warren that had spooked him, he smiled and took a step towards his tent. The noise, however, grew louder. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted, but he bit his lip and fought down the fear. There were soldiers of Gondor about. He was safe.

The beast was upon him before he could even think. He tried to sidestep it and promptly slid in the mud of the riverbank. He strove to right himself as terror raced through him. ‘Only a rabbit, only a rabbit,’ his mind screamed. But it was a huge badger, eyes aflame and teeth bared. Faramir had frightened it, had placed himself directly in front of the burrow where this mother had its cubs. The creature stood its ground, hissing and spitting furiously. Faramir took a step back and then another as the beast followed him. The creature lunged, grabbing hold of Faramir’s arm as he put it up defensively. Suddenly, his foot slipped again and the cold water of the Anduin took him and the badger.

~*~

A/N – 1) I’ve always been told that a halo around the moon means rain or snow. http://www.wsaz.com/weather/headlines/13573262.html

2) About maple leaves and rain predicting – page three. http://64.233.169.104/search?q=cache:rDUoLDMW2KgJ:www.muskegonmastergardeners.org/download/Apr-06-Newsletter.pdf+maple+leaves+curl+before+rains+come&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=8&gl=us

3) I used the term, barbarian, with this meaning in mind.  Uncivilized, crude, savage. All of which could characterize Easterlings, Orcs, and Haradrim. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/barbarian

4) I’m sorry for another link – but it’s my sworn duty to make sure what I write has some resemblance to reality. If you’re wondering about ‘banking a fire’ – here’s the link I used. http://camping.about.com/library/qna/blqna039.htm

5) Interesting badger information. They are compared to small bears. http://www.badgers.org.uk/badgerpages/eurasian-badger-08.html