Chapter 13

Waking was painful: his head was pounding and his tongue thick and seemingly stuck to the roof of his mouth. He attempted to turn over and retreat back into the painless oblivion of sleep but his plan was thwarted.

“My Lord,” the words quiet but insistent.

 “My Lord”

“Alright, alright, Ferris, what is it” he groaned, still not able to force his eyes open.

“I have a message for you from Tamir, Sir. The King requests your attendance after noon for a conference. Tamir also asked me to remind you that Mistress Lireal’s party will be leaving shortly; he has gone down to see her off. He thought you might wish to see her before she goes”

Faramir was still trying to summon the energy to lift his head from the pillow when a loud knocking shattered the quiet.

“I’m not surprised you keep off the wine if you wake looking like that,” boomed Gimli. “Your face could curdle milk….I’m not sure what that blond suitor of yours  sees in you…I’ve seen prettier faces in the stables.”

“Ferris, please escort that Orc out of my chamber before I do him an injury.”

“Ah, but I come bearing gifts,” said Gimli, presenting a steaming mug. “A gift from His Majesty for a poor unfortunate subject who cannot hold his drink… but if it’s not wanted I will take it back.” Gimli turned and headed for the door.

“Wait Gimli, I’ll forgive you if you promise to speak more respectfully of Lady Éowy,.” Faramir said, reaching for the potion.

“Who said I was referring to Éowyn,”

Gimli paused by the door as the implications of his comment filtered through the haze of Faramir’s befuddled brain. He ducked out smirking as Faramir’s face went from pale to flushed pink.

“I’ll have to tell Aragorn that’s one up to Faramir,” Gimli chuckled as he departed.

****

The potion did its job and within an hour Faramir was walking down through the levels of the city. His mood lightened as he progressed; many recognised and greeted him as he passed, veterans saluted and stopped him  for brief words of comradeship and remembrance. Children’s voices mingled with the call’s of vendors hawking their wares and Faramir was aware once again of  the  spirit of renewal and regeneration in the city. This was what he and Aragorn had to foster and build upon and Faramir now had the confidence and the conviction that they could achieve that together.

He passed through the archway into the courtyard of the Refuge and was surprised by the absence of activity. The normally bustling courtyard was empty but for a heavily laden wagon; a sturdy work horse harnessed between the shafts. The horse nuzzled his tunic looking for treats but he had nothing to offer. A quick glance at the contents of the wagon revealed sacks of seed and grain, baskets of nails, gardening tools, blocks of salt, skeins of thread and lengths of heavy canvas. Secured to the top of the wagon was a wooden frame; a loom he had commissioned as a special gift, remembering that Lireal was trained as a weaver.

The tell-tale sound of hooves on cobbles preceded the arrival of a lad leading a second horse.

“Lord Faramir”

A blur of arms and legs cannoned into him sending him reeling backwards and he came to rest sitting on a low wall with an armful of quivering youth.

“Tomos!”

Faramir held the boy away at arms length to get a better look at him. He would not have recognised the boy; he had grown and filled out, his face tanned and glowing with health, his hair bleached gold by the sun and his eyes full of sunshine and laughter.

“I didn’t realise you were making the trip here with your mother, Tomos, but I am delighted to see you and to see you looking so well; I can see that life on the farm suits you?” The boy nodded but then his face fell and he suddenly looked sheepish.

“I wasn’t supposed to come…I was supposed to stay home and help Dan look after things… but I stowed away in the Wagon!” he whispered. “Mother wanted to send me back with one of the troopers but in the end she let me stay….though I have to do stable chores for a month when I get back.”

“What was so important in Minas Tirith that you had to defy your mother,” Faramir asked gravely, tilting the lad’s chin up until he met his gaze. “Did you miss your friends?”

“No…yes…but that wasn’t the reason,” the boy’s eyes suddenly glistened. “I never got the chance to say thank you…You left before I could say goodbye…And I never got to say sorry”  His face crumpled in his distress and large silver tears glistened in the sunlight as they dripped from his chin. Faramir pulled the boy close.

“Oh Tomos, what have you got to be sorry for.” He comforted the boy until he was composed enough to speak.

“I called you a liar and a thief and I hit you and I never got to say sorry and you were trying to help us  and now we are safe and happy and my mother smiles again….and it’s all because of you…”he blurted without pause for breath.

Faramir was momentarily stunned, he had forgotten about the incident and yet it had been on the boy’s mind all this time. He turned the boy’s face to his.

“Tomos, there is nothing to forgive. You were doing a man’s job trying to protect your mother and sister, and you were very brave. I’m pleased that I was there to help you and it makes me so happy to know that you are all settled….So friends now?” Tomos nodded.

“I have something for you.”

 He lifted a satchel from the wagon and took out a bundle wrapped in cloth. He handed it to Faramir with a shy smile. Faramir unwrapped the cloth and a small wooden carving of an eagle dropped into his lap.

“Did you make this?” Faramir asked with delight, examining the flowing lines of the bird in flight.

“Yes, Dan taught me….his carvings are wonderful, they look so real…he’s starting to talk a bit …he was a soldier too, you know…like my father,” again the boys words came out in a hurried stream.

“Well Dan is an excellent teacher, this is wonderful and it will have pride of place on my desk and I shall think of my special friend every time I look at it,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Well Captain, I hear that you have set the Council on its head!”

“Islin.”  

The two men exchanged salutes and then Faramir was drawn into a brief hug.

“Am I in for any more surprises,” laughed Faramir. “Did you sneak in the back of the wagon as well?” He took a moment to observe the ex-soldier, noting that his scars had faded making his disfigurement less obvious. “You look well; I take it the farm is thriving?”

“We have expanded since you were with us, we now have eight adults and a dozen children but the extra hands more than make up for the added bellies to fill; the harvest was good and we are well provided for. I took the chance to come for supplies, and to tell the truth,  I wanted to be here. When Tamir came to ask Lireal to come before the Council and told us what you were planning, I wanted to be here for her…and for you. Lireal and Tamir told us about the meeting…I wish I could have seen it. You did well, My Lord! You did your brother proud. I hope the King knows how lucky he is to have you.

“He does!”

They both spun round to find themselves under the scrutiny of the Royal entourage, who had emerged into the courtyard after visiting the Refuge.

“Sire!” They both saluted. Faramir performed the introductions.

“So Islin, you think I should keep this troublesome reprobate in my service, do you?”

“Yes, Sire; if only to keep him out of trouble. From what Tamir told us he needs a full time keeper.” Faramir shot Tamir a withering glance and the adjutant had the grace to blush.

“Perhaps I’d better go with you then Islin…If you think you can find gainful employment for a one-armed, crippled, ex-captain with a nose for disaster” Faramir said, climbing up onto the seat of the wagon. “You’ll protect me won’t you Tomos?”

“But I cannot spare you, so you just get down and let these good people be on their way” the King commanded, raising a hand to help him down.

“Yes Sire.”

With a last farewell Islin and Tomos climbed up to take their seats. Lireal pulled Faramir away from the crowd.

“I’m sorry that we didn’t get a better chance to talk,” she said. She took in the pale face, the sunken cheeks and the dark shadows around his eyes.

“Are you really all-right…I was worried about you? They said you were ill and you are still pale.” She cupped her hand to his cheek. “You must take better care of yourself,” she commanded softly, kissing his cheek and embracing him. “Thank you for everything.”

“It is me that should be thanking you…I could not have done it without you. I know it wasn’t easy for you coming back to the city. I will not forget your courage”.

She leant up and whispered to him. “You are not the only one with a wedding to plan.”  He saw her eyes settle on Islin and recognised the unspoken message in the gaze.”

“Then go with my blessing. I wish you happiness and joy in your new life.”

Faramir lifted her up onto the wagon and when she was settled Islin flicked the reins and the wagon set off through the archway, joining with a detail of mounted troops who would be their escort back to the farm.

****

They stood at the wall and waited for the small caravan to emerge from the gate and begin its slow progress northwards across the Pelennor.  Faramir felt the prickle of eyes watching him but each time he looked around to find the source of the scrutiny he could find no one looking at him. He chatted with his uncle, his gaze alternating from the vista below to his companions; it was starting to grate on his nerves, this feeling of being watched.

He saw Gimli talking to Legolas; the Elf looked over to him and bowed. Faramir experienced a sudden flashback to the previous evening’s happenings and to Gimli’s comments in his chamber. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks.

“Legolas, could you spare me a moment?” Faramir decided to take the bull by the horns and confront his embarrassment. He moved away from his companions and waited for Legolas to join him.

“I fear I owe you an apology, my friend. I am sorry if I caused you any embarrassment.”

“You mean you were toying with my affections,” gasped Legolas, with a pained expression, his hands clasped to his breast.

“Oh, behave; you promised once to keep me safe if I drank with you!”

“I did keep you safe…who do you think put you to bed!”

 Legolas had a sudden thought, his memory going back to Faramir’s conversation that night in the ale house.

“Please, don’t tell me that you propositioned Éomer!”

“He was very understanding…after he had sheathed his dagger…though he did ban the Chamberlain from ever serving me anything stronger than watered ale…and he told Éowyn…she thought it was hilarious!”

And then they were laughing, leaning against each other for support as they gasped for breath, much to the amusement of their companions.

A call floated up from the plain below and they returned to the wall to wave a final farewell to the travellers.

As they all made their way back up to the citadel Aragorn and Faramir walked together deep in conversation. At the rear of the procession Tamir walked beside Prince Imrahil.

“Are they really reconciled Sir,” Tamir asked, as he watched the King and his Steward together. “Have they made their peace?”

“I believe they have, Tamir. You need no longer fear for Lord Faramir’s safety at the hands of the King. I think that they now understand each other; though I don’t believe it will always be a placid relationship, they are both stubborn and have strong opinions. I believe life will continue to be interesting!”

****

“Well Faramir, there is much that needs to be set to rights, much that needs to be organised. I think it would be best if we decided between us how to move forward.”

They sat together on a sun lit balcony, just the two of them. It was an informal meeting and yet they both knew that it was a defining moment in their fledgling relationship.

“I am, as ever, at your command Sire!”

“NO, Faramir.” Aragorn got to his feet and stalked to the balustrade. He took a deep breath to control his irritation before turning to face the younger man.

“No! Can you not see? That is not what I want from you, not what I need! If we are to rebuild the glory of Gondor we have to work together…I have to know what you think, what you feel….There are any number of fledgling Lord Haralil’s waiting in the wings ready to bow and scrape their ways into positions of power and influence. I need you….” He forced himself to calm.

“I need you to guide me through this labyrinth…your revelations yesterday proved just how unprepared I am for this task…without a council my need for your support and guidance is greater than ever.”

Faramir was quiet, processing the situation and formulating his own response. He was moved and humbled by the King’s plea. He knew of command, had worked his way up through the ranks to lead his Rangers, he knew how to give and receive orders, knew how to lead and inspire his men, knew also the loneliness and isolation of command.

“Aragorn, I think you first have to decide what manner of Ruler you wish to be.” The use of his name raised a smile.

“What do you mean?”

“My father, for all his faults, was a good Steward. He kept Gondor functioning and safe in a time of threat and fear. But those times are gone and you have to decide how you are going to move forward. Do you want to be an absolute ruler, do you want to re-instigate the Council, do you want to appoint independent advisors or have elected representatives. There is no precedence for this, Aragorn; this is a new Era, your Era, you can create it in whatever format suits you. As far as I can see there is no right or wrong answer, you can stick with  tradition or you can create your own traditions…I will support you in whatever you decide, provided it works for the good of the people!”

Faramir hesitated before going on, not sure quite how to proceed; apprehensive as to how the King would take his next thoughts. But the barrier between them had been breached and so he pushed on.

“We have arrived at this point because Lord Haralil was allowed to isolate you from the consequences of the decisions taken. He created systems and protocols that prevented the Commanders and the people from having access to you, just as he blocked access to the Houses of Healing. And you played into his hands by keeping your distance from the people!” Faramir stopped, afraid that he had gone too far. He sank back into his seat waiting for the backlash, unconsciously fidgeting with the bandage on his hand. The healer in Aragorn seeing the gesture batted his hand away.

“Go on...spit it out…I won’t bite you! Say what’s on your mind.”

“The people don’t know you…you are as much a stranger to them today as on the day you took the Crown. Don’t get me wrong, they revere you, they are proud to have the King restored but they don’t know you or….love you. You are too remote; you can’t hide up here in your shiny white tower and expect to…” he paused, trying to organise his thoughts. “Lireal left the city because she felt the ordinary people had become invisible, that they didn’t matter. You have to change that, Aragorn, they are the ones who need you most…they have no one else.”

“I think you are wrong there, Faramir. I think they have a very eloquent champion, even if he doesn’t yet realise his true worth. So what does my Steward suggest?”

“Get out and about. Visit the barracks and the training yards, meet the people, visit the markets and the ale houses and the apprentice houses, set up schools …let the people know that they have some means to air their grievances. I can take much of the burden of administration off your shoulders, if that is your wish, so that you have the time and the opportunity to accomplish these things. You are a good man, Aragorn and I have absolute confidence that you will be a great King.” They lapsed then into silent contemplation.

Aragorn broke the silence.

“Then let us decide first what we are going to do about this tribunal. Have you given that any thought?”

“It must be seen to be fair and impartial and for that reason I think it would not be a good idea for me to be involved. I will turn over all the research and information that I have uncovered and will collate the information retrieved from the searches yesterday. Draw on nobles from Gondor and representatives from the other Kingdoms to sit on the panel; choose those with no connection or interest in the trades under scrutiny.”

“Yes,” agreed the King, “and we need to set this in motion quickly, the longer this is allowed to fester the longer it will take to re-establish the confidence of the people.”

Further deliberation was cut short by the arrival of a messenger.

“Sire, an envoy has arrived from Edoras bearing messages for Lord Faramir!”

TBC

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