Faramir Fiction Archive

Family Honor (NC-17)

Written by Mcguffan

14 July 2006 | 162886 words

Chapter 17

The men were wary. Without any need of orders- though they had them- the Gondorhim kept close together, never straying far from their banner. Their fear was reasonable and Halbarad was glad they had enough sense to be afraid. Even the slowest of them had gathered that the ranks of Variags following them so closely did not mean them well. Most of them assumed that the grim faced warriors were just making sure they left Khand, though if that was truly their intent why send so many. Halbarad did his best to offer gruff reassurance and change the topic whenever speculation started. Fortunately, the Gondrohim trusted their Captain and aside from the occasional nervous glance backward, they were mostly content to leave the situation in wiser hands. Despite the caution of their little band, Halbarad found himself circling the group. Like a sheepdog, he moved to head off anyone he even suspected of straying. The ranger kept his eye on the wolves that threatened his flock as well. Five of the Variag watchers made no secret of their presence. They walked, grim-faced among the other tribesmen. Their presence was clearly meant to intimidate. Showing disdain for their fellow countrymen, who appeared to be enjoying the notion that they were doing something to tweak the noses of the proud Varaiags, the watchers gazed upon the Gondorhim with predatory eyes. Halbarad had to fight back the absurd impulse to wave and grin. A confrontation was the last thing he wanted. Moreover, he was not altogether confident their escort would do anything to smooth over any perceived provocation. The other tribes watched the tension between the groups with almost gleeful anticipation. They had nothing against the Gondorhim but neither would they be disappointed if the animosity broke out into something more interesting. If the Variags attacked they would become pariahs and that would suit many of the onlookers.

In addition to the five obvious onlookers, Halbarad picked out another five. These men tried to blend in with the polyglot of tribes milling together. These five, unlike the others, kept their eyes on Aragorn. He had only spotted the last two because whenever Strider drifted out of sight into a group of people or between several of the horses, the secret watchers started to panic, seeking each other through the crowd and shifting in a flurry of activity until the ranger was once again in their sights. Strider did not appear to notice the weight of so many hard eyes but as he walked along the path, he never ventured away from large concentrations of people. With that, Halbarad supposed, he would have to content himself.

“We’ll be stopping for lunch in a few minutes.” Faramir informed Halbarad, coming along side the ranger after leaving a group of tribal leaders.

“Thank you, Captain.” Halbarad replied, genuinely glad. Keeping track of everyone was giving him a headache. It would be easier when they stopped to eat.

“The pace is not too onerous, I hope.” Faramir said with a soft laugh. The procession was moving so slowly that a child would be able to manage.

“I’ll keep up.” Halbarad replied with an answering smile.

“And all of our friends, do you suppose they are keeping up?” It was their fond hope that the further they traveled the more and more of the Variag force would slip away back to their homes. Desertion was a rampant problem among the Variag lower ranks and such a long trek away from their villages and families could only encourage that tendency.

“I cannot tell—not without a proper reconnoiter.” Resisting the urge to look back at the dark mass of men behind them, Halbarad answered. He would very much have liked to reconnoiter and perhaps even do a little careful knife work in the dark. There was nothing worse for the morale then waking up to find your tent mate had woken up in the night to go take a piss and ended up with his throat cut.

“I cannot help but be curious. It is not worth the risk, though.” Faramir sighed. He knew the ranger wished to take more initiative with the enemy but Aragorn had forbidden it. Faramir had been present when they discussed it. Halbarad had insisted that, since most of the focus would be on Aragorn, he would be able to scout both the terrain ahead and the force behind. Aragorn had replied that, even the small danger of Halbarad’s capture, was too great. Annoyed that such a triviality as his own safety should impinge onto the conversation, Halbarad waved his hand dismissively and opened his mouth to begin enumerating the benefits of proper intelligence. Aragorn stopped him mid breath. `If you will not consider yourself then consider this: I will not leave without you.’ The two men locked eyes until a moment later Faramir saw Halbarad’s shoulders sag in surrender.

“I suppose not.” Halbarad’s reply brought Faramir back from his thoughts and he smiled at the exaggerated wistfulness of the other’s tone. “It is just that I feel I could do with a bit of recklessness.”

“I cannot believe you would ever take a foolish risk, Halbarad.” Faramir felt certain that the other man could be suicidally brave but he doubted that he did anything without carefully evaluating the costs and benefits.

“As a general rule, you are quite correct. Being rash, though, has a certain appeal when I am with Aragorn. Perhaps because I know that he will always keep me on the right side of common sense, I feel I can indulge my impulses.” Halbarad treasured the ability to have conversations with Aragorn that, but for the other’s presence he would have to have in his head.

“It is strange how one may have certain characteristics in some people’s company and yet quite contrary characteristics with others.” The timbre of Faramir voice had changed as though his thoughts had grown sad.

“That seems only reasonable.” Halbarad, who could take on and cast aside traits, mannerisms and perhaps even personalities at will, did not see the strangeness to which Faramir referred. “It is not appropriate to be loving towards one’s enemy even if one is loving towards one’s brother. One should be a brother to one’s brother, a friend to one’s friend, an enemy to one’s enemy and so on.”

“One should be oneself throughout.” Faramir replied with a sterness that might have embarrassed him to use with Halbarad if he had been conscious of it. “If the man who loves his brother cannot like or respect the man who… who hates his enemy then that surely is an evil and reflects a deeply- perhaps irretrievably flawed- individual.”

“If you would have it so then I think few would escape condemnation. Certainly I have not always liked or respected the man I was, the roles I have played or the characteristics I have portrayed.”

“Surely you do not count against yourself the things you must do to oppose and thwart the Enemy.” Surprise drew Faramir from his increasingly dismal contemplations. Halbarad seemed to him to be completely at ease with himself. He was a man without doubts or self-recrimination. He knew his purpose and his place in the world. Faramir envied him. He knew the ranger often acted as a spy, pretending to the sort of man who would be accepted by the Enemy or His servants, but the work was noble and demonstrated Halbarad’s courage, commitment and ingenuity. Faramir had not even considered Halbarad’s situation in his words. He had been preoccupied with the plight of a man who aspired to be a loyal and unswerving servant to his king, a devoted and accommodating lover to his beloved, a compassionate and wise leader to his men, and yet who actually behaved like a sniveling, craven fool to his father.

“A brutish act does not suddenly become good because it is done for a worthy cause.” Halbarad answered with a small shrug.

The company had stopped and all about people were moving to find some place to enjoy a leisurely lunch. Faramir looked about guiltily at the number of groups he could profitably join. There was no end to the people to flatter in hopes of buying another day, another hour of protection. Despite this, he could not bring himself to end his conversation with Halbarad just yet. “How do you manage it? How do you cope with the knowledge that you have done things that are unworthy of you?”

“I will tell you the truth: With a few very unpleasant exception, it really doesn’t bother me very much.” Halbarad could not help but note the similarities between the young man beside him and Aragorn. It was endearing to see the same sincerity and nobility in the young man of Gondor as Halbarad was accustomed to seeing in his Chieftain. In other respects their personalities complimented each other. In all, the ranger was able to come to the happy opinion that the two were well matched. “We live in an imperfect world, Captain. A man’s choices are constrained by circumstance. I have done many things I consider less than honorable but I could not honorably have done otherwise. If I must lie, cheat or kill to thwart the Enemy and protect my Lord then I will not fail to do so, so that I might have the satisfaction of calling myself honest. If I am damned for that then so be it.”

“That one should be compelled to do wrong in the service of right seems to me to be a serious failing in the order of the world.” Faramir did not entirely accept Halbarad’s argument, though he was hard pressed to identify any flaw in it.

Out of consideration for his companion’s feelings Halbarad refrained from laughing. There was no mockery in his amusement, however. The Captain was so very like Aragorn. The ranger worked for the day when Aragorn, Faramir and others like them would have the opportunity to change the way of things, so that violence would not so often equate with strength, inspiring fear would not be a certain means to power and mistrust would no longer be the only way to remain safe. Until then… “I cannot answer as to that. For myself, however, I do not mean to lose sleep over choices I would make again in the same circumstances.”

“I think, sir, that you are perhaps much more decent and honorable then you would admit.” Faramir spoke seriously though his expression registered amusement.

“I might say the same of you, my lord, if it were not impertinent.”

Faramir had no choice but to laugh. He acknowledged to himself that he could not have had such a conversation a month ago. He would have lacked the courage to approach someone like Halbarad. He would have lacked the conviction to pursue the argument. He would have balked at speaking his assessment of the ranger’s character and he would have found Halbarad’s answering remark devastating… mortifying. Now he could appreciate both the wit and insight of the remark and perhaps most importantly he could understand that there was no contempt behind the words. He felt warmed from the interaction.

“Even so, I would not shy away from anything that might help to ameliorate the situation in which we currently find ourselves.” Faramir had spoken the words as they occurred to him. He was eager to do whatever might be necessary to help protect Aragorn. Halbarads’s face remained impassive and a sudden terrible worry occurred to Faramir. Had the ranger understood his previous words as reluctance to love and serve Aragorn? He had not intended them so. He had been speaking about the hatred he felt for himself whenever he tried and failed to please Denethor, the servile manner he felt he adopted with his father and his inability to follow his own judgement if it did not accord with the Steward’s assumptions. Surely, Halbarad understood his meaning. The ranger did not think he was somehow complaining about the current danger. He couldn’t.

“Little besides courage and daring should be required now, though such qualities are dear enough.” Halbarad’s voice had not changed but to Faramir the ranger now seemed more remote.

Needing to clarify his feeling without understanding how Faramir licked his lips. “I would never suggest that men who risk their lives for a purpose greater than themselves do wrong.”

“Of course not, Captain.” Halbarad smiled and Faramir felt somewhat reassured.

“I must see to the Khandrihm but I have enjoyed our discussion.” There was relief in Faramir’s voice.

Halbarad bowed in acknowledgement and farewell. He continued to watch as the young man drifted away.

The cacophony of multiple languages and dialect rang in the air. Isu’s mind whirled with the attempt to keep up with the various conversations happening around him. The Gondorhim could only understand one another but many of Khandrihm struggled to understand their fellow countrymen as well as the Westerners. Isu enjoyed the atmosphere of laughter and experimentation around him. Everything was new and exciting. He was not so lost in the moment, however, that he forgot who he now was. He was a soldier of Gondor and as such he could not easily dismiss the prickle of worry he felt every time he considered the mass of men following them. Had it been any other tribe but the Variags he might have convinced himself it was not important, but he could not believe the Enemy’s perennial allies meant them any good. In truth he was afraid. He felt that he was at the beginning of a new and happier life. The presence of the foreign soldiers reminded him how easily he could lose everything. In a way he felt as though his past was following him, threatening to drag him back into a hopeless, futile existence. Isu had been sufficiently concerned that he had taken his fears to Halbarad. Since Isu had been tasked with minding Flyn, it had not been easy to get close to the ranger. Flyn avoided him like he carried a very nasty and very contagious disease. Eventually, however, the lad contrived to find a moment with Halbarad. The ranger’s response had been scathing and infinitely reassuring.

“Thought we hadn’t noticed, did you?” Halbarad demanded squinting at the boy before him. “Five hundred men marching at our back and you think we wouldn’t know unless you mentioned it?”

Isu stammered something about how, of all the Khandrihm, the Variags were especially dangerous. If it were possible, Halbarad’s expression became even more derisive.

“Are you suggesting that those heavily armed fellows following us with no more attempt to communicate then the occasional dirty look might not have our best interest at heart? Look here, if ever your Captain or Lieutenants are so flummoxed by a situation that they need your opinion, I have no doubt they’ll ask for it.” By this point, Isu’s face was crimson and he was looking for an opportunity to slink away. Of course it had been foolish to think that men like Lord Faramir and Halbarad would not have a firm grasp of everything happening around them. Just as he was about to apologize and withdraw, Halbarad’s voice softened.

“Yes, I know, the Variags are dangerous. I don’t doubt that you have better cause to understand that than many of us. There will be fighting, battle, death. If id does not happen here and now with the Variags then it will happen later with someone else. That is the way of things. Neither you nor I can do anything about it. You knew there was more to soldiering than keeping your armor shiny and parading about. Whether or not we end up in a fight with the Variags is not a question you need to fret about. The things that are going to have the biggest effect on the quality and the length of your life are your training and your luck in finding a commander who will not risk your life frivolously. You’ve managed to stumble onto the second, so I would say you have a lot to be cheerful about.”

Without realizing it, Isu had been nodding. He saw the logic in Halbarad’s words and he no longer viewed their long shadow with the same dread. Though there was a certain sterness in the ranger’s words Isu saw power in them as well. As Halbarad had suggested life held no guarantees but that did not mean he was helpless in the hands of fate. Training, battle skill and perhaps other skills as well would increase his own chance of surviving and also the chance of his comrades’ survival. Dismayed, Isu recalled that his lord had already entrusted him with a mission. Though he had been sensible of the honor being done him, he had not completely understood the task as significant in terms of a larger strategy. He had no right to make such an assumption, he realized- shame burning hot in him. In his service to his Captain he could find value and acquire skills that would help him serve in matters of increasing importance. He had been foolish to worry over the Varaigs when there was nothing he could about them and while there were such men as Lord Faramir and Strider who could no doubt considered every aspect of the situation. Isu took his leave of Halbarad with an easy spirit and increased resolve to focus his energies on the tasks he had in hand.

Awash once again in tide of many voices in many languages, Isu dedicated himself to understanding as much as possible. Full understanding was impossible; many of the people conversing together could hardly hope to understand each other. Nevertheless there was a great desire to communicate and men talked loudly to one another using gestures and exaggerated facial expressions to demonstrate their meanings. Isu navigated through conversations with greater facility than many and was thus somewhat in demand. The young man enjoyed the attention but throughout the stream of noise rushing past him he remained particularly attentive to one particular voice.

Isu had listened to Flyn talk at great length during his time in the Gondorhim camp. It had been helpful as Isu struggled with the new language because Flyn repeated himself fairly often. It did not take long for Isu to distinguish which of Flyn’s words would be useful and which could be safely ignored. The former lieutenant was much quieter now with so many strangers about. He seemed a little nervous around so many `barbarian savages’. Whenever Flyn did say anything, however, Isu listened. Whether the former lieutenant was in any way grateful for the young man’s constant attendance, Isu could not have known. Whatever the case, Flyn made no attempt to escape his ever-present companion. It would not have mattered to Isu what Flyn thought about him, the former lieutenant was in his charge and Isu meant to have him always in his sight.

The thought of his assignment brought a smile to the young man’s lips. Several days before their departure, Isu had been called to attend Lord Faramir. Nearly shaking with fear that he had somehow displeased his Commander, Isu entered the Captain’s tent and stood rigidly at attention. Lord Faramir had smiled at him and much of the lad’s anxiety burned away in the light of that smile. The Captain did his best to put the young man at his ease. He spoke to him about how he liked training, how he was getting along with his comrades and whether learning the Common Tongue was very difficult. Isu answered honestly and it was clear from the Captain’s comments that he was already well-informed about Isu’s progress.

When the younger man had relaxed somewhat, Lord Faramir told him why he had been summoned: “We will be traveling soon and you still have much to learn. Most of those you have been taking lesson with will have other duties. I would like you to spend more time with Flyn. I have asked him to continue your training.”

“Yes, my lord.” Isu answered swiftly. Had he been give a choice Flyn would not have been a man he would have spent time with. He would, however, accept Captain Faramir’s judgment in all things.

“As you will be spending time with Flyn, I would like you to… to remain alert for anything unusual or anything you consider improper.”

Isu did not understand.

“Observe Flyn and his interactions especially with the tribesmen and more especially still, the Variags.” Lord Faramir attempted to clarify.

“My lord wishes for me to spy on Master Flyn?” Isu was more than willing to do whatever his Captain asked, he was just unsure what actually was being asked.

Lord Faramir’s face flushed and Isu was paralyzed with apprehension. He would have thrown himself to the ground and begged forgiveness for making his lord angry. Before Isu could regain control of his limbs to do so, Lord Faramir placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “No, I do not want you to spy on Flyn. You are brothers-in-arms and your lives depend upon your trust of one another. I would never wish to undermine that.”

Taking a deep breath, Lord Faramir stepped back and seemed to collect his thoughts. “I have not expressed myself well, Isu. Let me begin again: Master Flyn possesses many strengths. Like all men, however, he also possesses weaknesses. I fear that many of Flyn’s weaknesses are apparent on this mission. He is not able to understand when he is being less than discreet. He does not appreciate the subtlety and sophistication of the tribes’ culture. Thus, he underestimates the effects of his words and actions. I would like someone who is well-acquainted with Khandrhim sensibilities to help Flyn, to protect him as well as the rest of us from himself. Can I rely on you in this, Isu?”

“Yes, my lord.” Isu affirmed adamantly. “If master Flyn cannot guard his tongue in this land I will do it for him. I swear I will not fail you, my lord.”

“I know you shall not. Thank you.” Lord Faramir smiled gently as he dismissed the young man. Isu would remember his oath and keep his lord’s trust as a sacred obligation.

Even as the young man considered the great trust his beloved lord had placed in him he was becoming increasingly aware of a conversation his charge was having with another man. As he listened he was hard pressed to identify exactly what it was that made him uncomfortable. Flyn’s interlocutor was speaking passable Westron. That in itself was strange. More than that though there was something in the nature of the question he was asking and that Flyn was enthusiastically answering.

It wasn’t simply that the large man with Flyn was interested in the Gondorhim. All of Khand was fascinated. It was slightly suspicious that the man had chosen Flyn to question. Flyn, after all, was not the most approachable nor the most affable of the Gondorhim but even that could be merely the questioner’s ill luck. Flyn had already said several things that would strike most tribesmen as condescending but the other seemed to grow only the more interested.

Isu had hoped to interject during a natural lull in the conversation but after what seemed a very long time none occurred. Finally settling for the moment when the stranger paused for breath, Isu made a comment in Khandoric that was related to the topic under discussion. He spoke with more deference then the other man’s apparent rank called for but rather than being flattered or even distracted, the man simply talked over Isu’s words still addressing Flyn. For his part, Flyn appeared to be gratified to be so very interesting. Isu became increasingly certain that something was very much amiss.

The more the two men talked the more Isu grew uncomfortable. The stranger was describing in fairly lurid detail some of the goings on in his village. Flyn answered the other with comments that Isu was not entirely certain he understood. Then, Flyn began to tell a few stories of his own. Isu wondered if he might be making them up. The young man had difficulty believing, from what he has seen of the workings of Gondor’s army, that Flyn’s stories could be true. But true or not, the Lord Faramir would not want such things said. Isu was considering how he might get rid of the talkative stranger when something in Flyn’s description caught his attention. With a sudden sickening realization Isu knew that, though no names had been mentioned, Flyn was talking about Strider.

Reeling with shock and horror, Isu stumbled over his own feet and could not regain his balance for several steps. With Strider’s identity established it became easy to guess that the other man in Flyn’s sordid tale was Lord Faramir himself. Strangely, Isu felt tears prick at the backs of his eyes. Flyn had twisted his beloved Captain’s character, describing his gentleness as weakness, his calm as obliviousness, his compassion into obsequiousness and his love for Strider into simpering. Strider, too, had been transformed from the quiet, commanding but also protective force into a dark and brooding presence exercising an almost malevolent influence over weaker minds. Isu stared up into the sun so that he might use the brightness as an excuse for the tears he could not hold back. Together Lord Faramir and Strider represented Isu’s definition of what was good. The love they had for one another, which Isu- newcomer that he was- had recognized very quickly seemed to reach out promising care and safety to everyone fortunate enough to come within its influence. To hear the two heroes of his young life so cruelly disparaged made Isu sick with anger and unhappiness.

Upon regaining something of his wits, Isu’s first thought was to run to Halbarad. Halbarad would know what to do. Immediately, Isu imagined the ranger stalking through the crowd toward Flyn and the stranger. He would take them both by the scruff of the neck and shake them hard. Then, he would snarl something to the stranger before dropping him unceremoniously to the ground. The stranger would take one look at Halbarad’s menacing expression and scamper away forgetting everything he may have heard in his urgency to escape. Next the ranger would take Flyn off somewhere out of sight of the others. Later, Strider- who was so knowledgeable about medicines- would be tending to Flyn’s various injuries when he would realize that the former lieutenant was being possessed by a minor demon or was perhaps suffering under a Variag curse. Indeed, Lord Faramir must have had some intuition of Flyn’s benighted condition when he asked Isu to look after him. Strider, of course, would heal Flyn and everything could be all right again.

The fantasy lingered for a while, but when it drifted away the helpless anger remained with Isu. He did not want to go to Halbarad. He had been assigned the responsibility of dealing with Flyn and he did not want to pass that off the moment it became difficult. More than that though, Isu didn’t think he could repeat any of what had been said. The fact that it had been spoken once struck the young man with a deep and painful shame. He didn’t want anyone else to know such words had been spoken. No, going to Halbarad would be a last resort if nothing else worked.

The next idea to occur to Isu was to use Halbarad’s name as a threat to silence Flyn. The former lieutenant hated and feared the ranger- and it was becoming clearer to Isu why that should be. Flyn must certainly be insane to interpret matters as he had and while that might evoke pity and compassion in Lord Faramir and Strider, Isu doubted that any state or illness would mitigate Halbarad’s reaction. Yet, if Isu threatened Flyn with Halbarad, then Flyn would focus his profoundest dislike on Isu himself. Isu could not obey Lord Faramir’s command if Flyn was determined to avoid him. Besides, until these last few moments Isu had never really disliked Flyn. The man had his flaws, certainly. He was long-winded, had an inflated view of his own importance and hated to be proven wrong but he had been as patient with Isu as his nature allowed. Further, he had never been deliberately cruel. Where Isu came from, such things counted for something.

Still somewhat dazed, Isu nearly tripped again when he became aware the procession was slowing to a halt. It was apparently time for lunch. Eating was the very last thing Isu wished to do but he took heart. During breaks the Gondorhim tended to condense a little drawing in on themselves. Often Strider would use any spare moment to take them through the same drill he had been trying to hammer into them. Yes, he saw now that the stranger was moving away, probably to eat with his own clan. Now all Isu had to do was find a way to keep him from coming back.

The two men sat opposite one another. A table, piled high with slices of chilled fruit and delectate pastries, stood between them- ignored by both. The prince, prince- Lorel could hardly think of the title without having to suppress a sneer- regarded the Variag coolly. There were more fighting men within the Variag capitol then there were people in this `prince’s’ entire tribe yet Lorel was expected to act as though the other’s royalty made him somehow special.

“You are not helping them with this charade, your highness. It is a waste of time.” Lorel, finally, broke the tense silence.

The other man raised his eyebrows and Lorel thought, for a moment that he would feign complete ignorance. It annoyed the Officer more than he could express how he was required to wait until the witnesses had all departed before he could move against the Gondorhim. The other tribesmen must know of his hostile intentions, yet as long as they saw nothing themselves they could be persuaded to pretend nothing had happened. It was cowardice and Lorel believed it should be beneath his dignity to indulge the other tribesmen in their desire to be deceived.

“Perhaps I am satisfied simply to annoy you and your masters.” The prince replied, making it very clear he regarded Lorel as an underling.

The officer grinned. He could appreciate that sentiment, but his royal smugness would find himself seriously out classed if he wanted to try to match the Variags for petty vindictiveness. “Indeed and it is a nuisance, I won’t deny, having to wait a little longer for my quarry. I had thought, however, that you felt some genuine loyalty, perhaps even affection for the charming Captain and his amusing band of barbarians, that you might truly wish to do them some service.”

“You said yourself that I could not help them.” The prince gave a small shrug of indifference but Lorel detected a spark of interest.

“I said you could not help them by traipsing after them like an incompetent nursemaid.” Lorel could not keep the contempt from his voice, though he had made an effort. “Gondor’s wayward children do not concern me, of themselves.”

“The tournament champion, then.” The prince demanded and Lorel nodded.

“Why?” After so much circumlocution and roundabout phraseology the question felt jarring.

“He won the tournament and would not join us.”

“Others have done the same, not many, but the Variags do not always acquire the champions. That is not enough reason.” The prince insisted

“This man is a foreigner. He is taking one of Khand’s treasures from our land to present to a barbarian court. The Variags will protect Khand’s honor even if others cannot be bothered.”

The prince’s lips curled in a grimace but he did not otherwise rise to the bait. “You said I could be of aid to the Gondorhim. How so?”

“Lord Faramir protects and shelters this Strider. Convince him that one man, however talented a swordsman, is not worth his own life and the lives of his men.” Lorel replied coolly.

“You think he would abandon the tournament champion? After the man swore an oath to him?”

“I think any commander worthy of the name would rather lose one man than thirty. Tell him this: Surrender the forest runner and he and his may go in peace. Convince him and we can all go home.”

“I do not think that I should help you.” The prince said warily.

Now it was Lorel’s turn to shrug with apparent indifference. “That is your choice to make, your highness.”

A figure appeared at the entrance to the hastily erected pavilion and caught Lorel’s eye. “If you will excuse me there is business I wish to see to before the march resumes.”

The prince understood that he was being dismissed and though the officer’s presumption rankled there was nothing he could do about it. With as much dignity as he could muster he rose. As he was turning away, however, Lorel spoke again: “Decide quickly, your highness, whether you mean to aid the valiant Gondorhim. Soon, there will be no power on Middle-Earth that will be able to save Lord Faramir from himself.”

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