Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

My Sword Trembles - Book Three - 'My Sword' Series  by Agape4Gondor

Chapter Twenty-Two – Resolve Hard-Won

Night was coming on, the third since Faramir’s disappearance. Listöwel finally slept, though her body tossed and turned. Well before first light, she woke. Borondir was kneeling at her side. “There is a missive from Regent Indis. She will arrive before noon.” Listöwel nodded. Borondir left her. She sat up, held her head in her hands, and wept bitterly. Not for herself, though she felt she had clearly failed her friend and Regent, but for Faramir. ‘Too long in the wild or the river. He must be dead.’ Pushing herself to stand up, she laved her face in the cold water left from last night’s ablutions, put on her armor and walked to the door. The guard there saluted her. “Have my captains assemble in the mess in a quarter hour. Have provisions made for a two-day march.” She left the garrison’s office and walked towards the bridge.

Borondir quickly joined her. “You need not have risen so early. It will be hours before the Regent comes.”

“And what have I to report, Borondir?”

“Naught, Captain.”

“You are correct in that. I have naught to report. I have ordered my captains attend me in less than a quarter hour in the mess. If you wish food before that, then you best avail yourself of this opportunity. Once met, we leave for Emyn Arnen and we will not return until he or his body is found. Do you understand?” He nodded and left her.

She continued walking to the bridge, being hailed now and again by guards as she passed their posts. Anor’s light touched the sky before her; the dark mountains outlined in the soft of the pre-dawn light. She crossed the bridge and stood at its very edge, the very edge of Eastern Osgiliath. Dust lay upon the rocks and broken ruins. A deep silence filled the air along with a faint odor of herbs and spices. ‘The famed fields of Ithilien,’ she thought. ‘Still clinging to life in the midst of destruction. Faramir!’ her heart cried. ‘Where are you? You cannot be dead, sweet boy, you cannot. Hold on. Cling to life. We will find you. I promise, dear one, we will find you and today,’ she vowed. She stood there for many moments, her eyes sweeping the city for any sign of the lad, hope struggling to survive in the midst of despair. At last, she turned and walked back towards the mess. She wiped her face as she went, clearing it of any trace of the tears that had betrayed her resolve.

“Captain Listöwel,” Borondir greeted her as she entered the mess. “Your captains await you.”

She nodded in acknowledgment and bade them sit. “We leave in one hour’s time. We head for Emyn Arnen. A full battalion will assemble. We will not return until we find the Steward.” She watched them, watched their faces divulge their disbelief. “We will find him or we will not return. He did not suffer torment, torture and the death of his father and brother to be washed away from us. Do you hear me?” Her voice hardened. “I will not accept this as the will of the Valar. If you still believe in them, if you are still heirs of the Faithful, then you will follow me and we will find him.” Voice as hard as stone, her body trembled with the fervor of her words. Men’s eyes opened in surprise and, at last, she saw it. A bit of hope. Just a touch of hope, but it was there, in her men’s eyes and she vowed she would keep it there or die. One by one, the men stood, saluting her.

“Prepare your troops, Knights of Gondor. We leave at First Bell.”

Shoulders squared, she turned from them and walked out of the mess. The entire regiment stood before her, cavalry and infantry, all gathered in front of her. One of them stood forward. “We heard your words, Captain-General, and we will be proud to follow you.”

She swallowed hard. “We leave in one hour,” she forced herself to say through the hope-enlarged lump in her throat.

They saluted as one, turned and went about their preparations. Borondir walked up and stood next to her. “They are impressed by your resolve. Most have heard of your courage in battle. I think they are now ready to follow you.”

She wanted to fall in exhaustion. It had taken every bit of strength within her to not collapse at his words. She had won them over, mayhap for just this day, but it was a beginning. She nodded to him and, without a word, went back to her quarters. She closed the door, leaned heavily against it and silently wept.

~*~

“We head for Osgiliath today, Faramir. If all goes well, we should reach it by tomorrow.” He smiled. “I seem to recall telling you the same thing a day ago.”

Faramir giggled. Then his little face scrunched in concern. “How will you walk that far? Your foot is swollen. We should rest another day.”

“We can ill-afford to rest, Faramir. Gondor needs her Steward. Not only for Indis’ sake, but for Gondor’s, I must put aside thoughts of pain and strike out for Osgiliath.”

“He speaks well, does he not, Lord Faramir?” Elrohir came up, smiling broadly, and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Full of bravado. I will wager you he collapses within the hour.”

Faramir looked up in alarm. “We cannot let that happen.”

“He teases you, Faramir,” Elladan smiled as he joined them. “We have built a small litter. We will put our brother into it and pull him.”

“I will not be treated as an invalid,” Aragorn sputtered. “I can walk. I need a stout stick and then I can walk.”

Elladan gently touched Aragorn’s ankle with the side of his boot. The Ranger let out a yelp and fell into Elrohir’s arms. “I think you will ride or I will carry you over my back.”

Aragorn clenched his teeth, the pain still throbbing through his leg. “I will ride on that piece of refuse, if you insist.”

“As a matter of fact, little brother, I do insist. We have Faramir and Gondor to think of, not your wounded pride.”

Elrohir helped settle Aragorn onto the litter. Faramir brought a blanket and covered the Ranger. “I am sorry you cannot walk, Strider, but I will walk next to you and keep you company. Will that help?”

Aragorn sighed heavily. “That will help. I will teach you some other birdcalls that the Rangers of Gondor have used in the past. You have a good ear and should be able to learn at least a dozen before we stop for the noon meal.”

Faramir smiled excitedly. “Thank you. I would like that very much.”

“Who pulls him first?” Elrohir asked. “I spent most of the morning making the thing; I think you should have the honor of first horse.”

Faramir giggled. “What color horse are you, Elladan?”

The Elf looked at the boy in amaze, then a slow smile lit his face. “I suppose I would be a white horse, perhaps like the Mearh of Rohan. Yes, a white horse with a long flowing mane.” He shook his head from side to side, his braids hitting his face as he moved.

“And you, Elrohir, what color horse are you?”

“Well, I think I would like to be a gray horse. They blend into most backgrounds. I would not be easily seen. I think gray would be best.”

“May I help carry the litter?”

“I think not,” Elrohir’s visage took on the look of one in deep thought. “You must attend your lessons for now. You will not see Es… Strider until the spring. You best spend as much time studying now as you are able.”

“A wise thought.” Elladan pulled up on the litter’s handles and moved forward. “We may talk as we walk. It is a long way to Osgiliath.”





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List