Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not me.

Chapter 5. Revelations

“Hold steady a moment, my friend.” Aragorn, who was walking a few paces ahead turned and stopped, noting the warning in Boromir’s eyes that they were indeed not alone.

“Is there something amiss, or are you simply in need of rest?” Aragorn asked with a tone of mischief in his voice. Boromir understood the gentle teasing was meant as a distraction for whoever was following, and so frowned slightly in response.

“I most certainly am not in need of rest, but there is something amiss. You have a rather ugly looking insect crawling on your shoulder,” Boromir said as he brushed the imaginary creature away, his nearness to Aragorn allowing him to whisper a few words into the ranger’s ear. “I believe I caught a glimpse of our shadow moving slightly behind us amongst the trees to the left of the road.” Aragorn nodded acknowledgement.

“How many of them were there?” The ambiguous question was spoken out loud.

“I saw only one,” Boromir replied as he made a display of stepping on the non-existent insect.

“Many thanks, it was indeed ugly, and capable of inflicting a poisonous bite,” Aragorn replied, as he placed a friendly hand on Boromir’s shoulder.

 Instead of looking at his friend, he allowed his gaze to wander to the part of the woods where Boromir believed he had seen the man. He still sensed the presence of the stranger, but dusk had fallen rapidly and the grey shadows that quickly gave way to the darkness of night hindered his vision.  Seeing no one, Aragorn was about to suggest he scout the area more closely, but deemed it unnecessary when the sound of hoof beats and excited chatter drifted on the cool air from somewhere along the path behind them.

“It seems we will soon have some company of a more pleasant kind,” Boromir said as a horse drawn cart, driven by one of the farmers came into view. The voices were those of the man’s wife and several children of varying ages, two of whom were big, strong young men. Aragorn exchanged a glace with Boromir that spoke of their mutual agreement that a confrontation was unlikely to occur at this time, and both allowed a small sigh of relief to pass their lips.

“Aye, and we have not far to travel to the good lady’s home,” Aragorn replied, as he offered a warm smile and words of greeting to the new arrivals. No doubt he and Boromir could handle a robber or two, or several, in fact, but he had no wish for the notoriety such an incident would earn. Of course they would not allow either themselves, or anyone else to suffer an attack, and would defend themselves, to the death if necessary. However, if possible, it was best for the safety of the fellowship to do nothing that would arouse any kind of suspicion or allow spies of Saruman to learn where they were located.

Their unexpected travelling companions proved to be a boon in more than one way, for the farmer and his family had journeyed a great distance to attend the market, and along the way had heard more than one story of strange creatures raiding isolated villages.

“You two are rangers, are you not? Have you heard of these dark deeds?” asked the elder of the farmer’s sons.

“Aye, we are and we have heard tales such as you describe, and as much as we wish it were not so, there is truth in what you have heard,” Boromir replied. Aragorn nodded agreement.

“This is a dangerous time to be on the road and travelling unprotected,” he cautioned.

“Perhaps, but fear not for my sons and I know how to wield a sword as well as a hoe,” the farmer replied, smiling with pride as the two young men drew their swords with practiced ease to emphasise their father’s words.

“They are indeed fine weapons, and handled well,” Boromir said, his years of experience as a soldier granting him the ability to judge good steel and skilful swordsmen when he saw them. Aragorn agreed and both men were relieved to know that when they parted ways, the travellers would still be protected.

The welcoming glow of candlelight lit the small windows of the cottage, and the two men quickened their pace at the thought of the hot meal and mattresses of soft straw rather than solid ground that awaited up ahead.

“Welcome  back. I trust you obtained all you needed from the market?” the woman asked as she took their cloaks and indicated where they could store their packs.

“Indeed we did, but please forgive our poor manners, but we did not ask your names,” Boromir replied, a slight tinge to his cheeks hinting at his embarrassment for such making an oversight.

“I am Elwyn and my son’s name is Dareth,” the woman replied. “And you are, my lords?”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady Elwyn,” Boromir answered graciously (and very smoothly avoided giving their names, Aragorn admitted), taking the delicate hand and kissing it chastely. This time it was Elwyn’s turn to blush, and Aragorn to eye Boromir with respect for both his gallant behaviour and the fact that not only was he a soldier, but also he was obviously well versed in the wiles and mannerisms of the statesman he would one day become. Nonetheless, he suspected that Dareth would be more curious and likely to ask again, so chose to distract the boy in his own fashion.

 “Is that freshly baked bread I smell?” Aragorn asked as he moved to take a place at the table.

“Mother made it especially for you both,” Dareth, who was already seated with his injured ankle propped up on a stool, answered as he indicated for Boromir to take his own seat. As they hungrily ate the meat and vegetable stew Elwyn made, conversation remained simple mostly involved with descriptions of the markets, the daily routines of the farmers and the kinds of weather that they had been experiencing. Neither man was willing to bring up the subject of the missing husband and father, but when Aragorn excused himself to go and scout the path to the village, Elwyn looked rather alarmed.

“There have been several strange disappearances lately,” she said, obviously referring to her own loss as one of them. “Were you followed?” she asked Boromir, who stood in the open doorway and peered out into the night, the silvery light of the newly risen full moon allowing him to follow Aragorn’s movement for some distance.

“Aye, for a time. My friend is an excellent ranger and he will see to any danger that threatens,” Boromir said with confidence that eased Elwyn’s fears.

“You bought a lot of supplies, how are you going to get them across the river?” Dareth asked when Boromir closed the door and settled by the fire with a mug of ale.

“Well, I have some skill with boats, if you have the materials I could repair yours,” he replied, raising an eyebrow in silent query to Elwyn when Dareth’s eyes became downcast.

“That is the reason my husband was on the other side of the river. He was hunting for deerskin to sell at the market so he could afford to buy nails, tar and such to mend the boat. We have enough food, but no money to pay the village boat builder,” she explained sadly.

“Then you must allow me to offer you payment for your hospitality, ” Boromir said reaching to retrieve his coin purse from his pocket and taking out two silver coins he handed them to Elwyn. “This should be enough to pay for the repairs and leave you with some coin to spend at the next market.”

“I can not accept such a generous gift,” she replied as she tried to give the coins back. Boromir smiled and closed his hand gently over the woman’s shaking hands.

“I am reputed to be a very stubborn man, and you will find that when we leave tomorrow, these coins will remain here, either in your purse, or in the hands of the boat builder if need be,” Boromir said softly but in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

“My sister accepts your gift and I apologise for causing you concern when you left the village,” said a voice from the now open doorway. Aragorn and a man possibly a few years older than the woman entered the cottage.

“Ah, I take it you found our shadow?” Boromir asked, directing his question to Aragorn who smiled wryly and shook his head.

“Not exactly, he was on his way here, following us as we suspected, and found me,” he replied with an unconcerned shrug of his shoulders.

“You were following them, Berim? Why?” Elwyn asked her brother, a flicker of anger in her eyes at the intrusion.

“To make certain they meant you and Dareth no harm,” he replied with a shrug.

“A noble and worthy gesture, but would it not have been prudent to simply ask us? We have no harmful intentions, as your nephew can no doubt attest to,” Aragorn said, allowing his own displeasure to be heard in his voice.

“‘Tis of no matter now,” Boromir interjected. “ We will be gone in the morning, but first I must enquire of the boat builder if there is another boat available to take us across the river.”

“Ah, yes, we still have that problem to overcome,” Aragorn said as he moved to where Dareth was sitting and taking his injured foot in his hand, began to remove the bandages so he could inspect the sprain. The swelling and bruising were as expected so Aragorn rewrapped the bandages and suggested Dareth rest his ankle in bed.

“I will see you two safely to the other shore, and continue the search for my sister’s husband on the morrow,” Berim offered by way of apology.

“Thank you, we accept your kind offer,” Boromir said with a small nod of acknowledgement.

 “If you will excuse us both, I believe my friend and I will also retire for the night, we have a long journey ahead,” Aragorn said, speaking for Boromir as well.

Elwyn showed them to the room that was apparently Dareth’s. It was only small, but there was enough room for the extra pallet that had been placed in there, and soon candles were put out and both men settled comfortably for the night.

“Boromir?” A voice whispered in the dark.

“What is it, Aragorn?” Another voice slightly husky with approaching sleep replied.

“You certainly know how to charm the ladies.” A hint of teasing now.

“’Tis only right to behave in such a manner.” A simple statement of fact laced with a sharpness that said this was the final word on the matter. “Sleep well, Aragorn.”

The humble response was nothing less than he expected from this noble son of the Steward and Aragorn found he was wishing that it could be Boromir rather than Denethor who was destined to stand by the King’s side.

“Sleep well, Boromir, son of Gondor.”