Chapter Nineteen – Dubious Dispatches

The missive was short and to the point. Saruman, Théoden King stated, was ready and willing to meet with Indis to discuss what might be done for Faramir and for Gondor. She read it in amaze. She had not asked nor authorized the King of Rohan to begin negotiations with the wizard. She shivered at the thought. Denethor had dealings, in his youth, with the White Wizard. He never quite overcame his fear of the Lord of Isengard. Now, she was being drawn into a parlay with him. Another shiver ran through her and she wondered how Théoden ever thought she wished this course of action to be taken. The wizard she wanted to speak with was Mithrandir, for was he not a friend of Thorongil who had helped bring Faramir from the depths of whatever assailed the boy?

Húrin was adamant. She should not go to Isengard, should not meet with the wizard. If she felt it was important, she should ask Théoden to arrange a meeting at Meduseld. Another, deeper shiver assailed her. Ragnhild believed she should go. Théoden King was known to be wise; Denethor would oft listen to his advice. Mayhap it would be a good thing.

Ciramir kept his peace until she asked him. “I was told to tame my vile tongue,” he said, barely a whisper.

She blushed. “I had asked, and thought I had received, forgiveness.”

“Then I will tell you straight with true words. My Lord Denethor had only the deepest hatred for the White Wizard. I think he would have died before being in his presence one more time. If you go, you are a fool. You know; you saw what happened to Denethor at least on one occasion when he crossed paths with that wizard.”

She held her tongue, took a deep breath, and stood. She moved from the great desk in her study and walked to the window. She leaned against the sill. There was naught to see. No horsemen were riding across the Pelennor with Faramir.

Húrin rose quietly, somberly. “You are no soldier of Gondor to speak that way to your Regent.”

“I speak only the truth. You never saw Denethor… Indis has seen. For her to contemplate such action is folly. The wizard is cunning. He is a monster!” Ciramir could scarcely contain his fury.

Indis turned to them. “Théoden King does not know that Faramir has… disappeared. I will send an errand-rider with the news. I will tell him that, at this time, Gondor’s Regent cannot be away from her City until the boy is found. I would hear Listöwel’s thoughts on this. She will not return until Faramir is found. Húrin, would you fetch Hirgon? Ragnhild, would you order the daymeal?” The Warden nodded and left, as did Ragnhild. Indis turned her attention to Ciramir.

“I take no umbrage at your words, Ciramir. I now see why my brother valued your counsel. You speak truly. I saw how my brother was brought almost to his knees when he was younger at a chance meeting between the two in the Great Library. I had to help him to his bed. I thank you for reminding me.”

“Then why do you even suggest you might meet with the wizard?”

“I must think of a politic way to decline the invitation. Théoden has always been a friend of Gondor. I will do naught to sever or harm that friendship. However, I will not meet with the wizard. Mayhap,” and she smiled slyly, “mayhap we should have Théoden King meet with him as Gondor’s emissary?”

Ciramir laughed aloud. “Would serve the old fool right!”

“Ciramir. I cannot allow you to speak thus of Gondor’s ally. However, I insist you continue to upbraid me when I am foolish. I will bite my tongue and remember your value.”

“Thank you, my Lady. Has there been no news of Faramir?”

“None and it is now two full days since he was lost.” She shuddered.

He stepped towards her, took her in his arms, and held her. “I would have you know I did not do this with Denethor.”

She burst out laughing. “Thank you for telling me that. I had my doubts.”

At this Ciramir joined her in laughter. At that moment, Ragnhild entered the room. She blushed at the sight. “Forgive me,” she said as she tried to back out of the room.

“Nay! Stop right there, Ragnhild. There is naught improper here. I needed a moment’s comfort. Ciramir was showing me how he comforted Denethor.” At that, both of them burst into even more fitful, boisterous laughter.

Ragnhild stood, lips pursed, arms crossed. “I see naught to be amused.”

Indis wiped the tears from her eyes. “It was a jest, Ragnhild. Do you not jest in Meduseld?”

“When it is appropriate.”

“It is now appropriate, Ragnhild. I have spoken.”

Her counselor nodded and sat on the chair across from the settle. “News from the east?”

“None.” The warmth and laughter of the last moments vanished. “I expect a missive within the hour.”

~*~

Listöwel was ready to draw and quarter every soldier in Osgiliath’s garrison. There was no news. No sign of Faramir had been found. Not even one footprint. “You call yourselves Rangers,” she exploded in the mess. “Can track an Orc anywhere! Yet you cannot track a seven year old boy!”

Captain Valanestel stood for his men. “There are no signs, on either bank, of the Steward, Captain-General. I believe he has floated down the River, mayhap even past the Harlond. Have there been reports of the efforts below the Harlond?”

Amlach stood up and moved toward Listöwel. “The Rangers have been a profound help, Captain-General. Mayhap it is time they returned to Henneth-Annûn and the search discontinued. At least, north of the Harlond. I have lost all hope, Listöwel. If he did not reach land, then he could not have survived. The water is bitter cold. We should search south of the Harlond – for his body.”

“The Anduin is not as cold as it might have been; it is not yet winter,” Valanestel spoke quietly, but with conviction. “Captain-General. The River crested its banks. Do not lose hope because we have found no tracks. They could very easily have been washed away. It will take some time, but my Rangers and I do not lose hope. Will you let us continue?”

Something about the man’s voice brought her peace. “Valanestel. You are aptly named. Hope based upon the Valar. We will continue to hope and you and your Rangers will continue to search. Amlach, we are shamed by this man. Has aught been heard from Borondir?”

“Nay, my Captain, naught.”

“Then send another two companies along the Harad Road to Emyn Arnen. The boy has been there once before, when Morwen was interred. Mayhap, if he came out of the River near there, he would recognize the land and head for Emyn Arnen.”

“It is a very slim chance, Captain, but one we must take. I will send men there.”

“Thank you, Captain Amlach. I would go with them.”

“I do not think it wise.”

“If I am to fight this despair, I must do something.”

“The men need to see you here, directing the maneuvers, sending out the search parties, meeting with your captains.”

Listöwel bit her lip. ‘This is exactly what is needed, what Indis wanted me to do here, show my colors, my valor so the men will follow me.’ She shuddered at the thought. ‘I cannot see how I can win their respect and love by whining. I must be strong, for Indis’ sake and for Faramir’s.’

“Wisely spoken, Captain Amlach. I would like to look at the maps one more time before the men head for Emyn Arnen.”

He nodded and brought out three cedar tubes. “This one is the most recent, made by Lord Denethor himself about twenty years ago. Emyn Arnen is here.”

They spent the next hour searching for the best route to different search areas. In the meantime, two companies were sent to the ancient home of the House of Húrin.”

Shortly thereafter, though no word had yet reached her of hope fulfilled, she sent two missives to Indis. The first was to her Regent; the second was to her sister-friend. She wrote Regent Indis on the first and Indis on the second.

“Regent Indis.

There has been no sign of Faramir. I have expanded our search parameters. The men lose hope, yet, hope is ever present - for the Valar have sent a captain to me who speaks of hope as if it is the very breath we breathe. I will still hope. I will continue to speak of hope with our men. I will send another missive in four hours.

Captain-General Listöwel”

“My dearest sister-friend,

I thought my hope was quashed until Captain Valanestel spoke. Do not lose hope yourself, dearest sister. Turn to Targon. The boy exudes it.

I would weep with you if I could. I have to be steel here; yet, my heart is ripped apart. We will rejoice together; remember that, Indis. We will rejoice and very shortly! The Valar did not bring Faramir back to life to have him taken away again!

Have hope,

Listöwel”

A/N - http://www.uib.no/people/hnohf/qlist.htm  Estel is Quenya for hope Valanestel – Hope of the Valar – at least I’m hoping that what it means.