Palben drew his cloak tighter and once again cursed his luck. Bad enough to be up the mountain in the summer, but the slight warmth of the early spring sun did nothing for either the two feet of snow or the biting wind. Although, he reflected, he had it better than the poor bastards who had been stuck up here all winter.
Ahead of him, Maren had sat down on a rock in a small clearing. "How much farther is it, Pa?"
This was his son's first trip up the mountain, and the novelty had long ago worn away to the realities of a heavy pack and the bitter cold. In fact, Palben was surprised that the young man had not complained before now, though they had been two days on the mountain.
"Not far," he eventually replied. "Look, you can see the smoke over that ridge there."
Not far turned into another two miles of steep uphill, the trees giving way to bare rock and snow. A small hut came into view as they reached the top, smoke curling above the low, rounded roof. The pile of wood that was the beacon stood off to the side at the highest point of the mountain.
"Hallo!" Palben called, once they were in shouting distance.
A figure came around the side of the hut, peering down at them. After a moment, he returned the greeting. "Took you goddamned long enough!"
As they drew closer, Palben recognized Gard, looking a little worse for wear after being stuck on the mountain all winter. The big man was not quite as big as he had been and he walked with a bit of a limp, but his face split into a familiar grin as Palben and Maren approached.
"It is good to see you my friend," he boomed, clasping Palben in a bear hug. "I've been stuck on this rock with no company but Calder for too long. And Maren!," he said, turning to the boy, "You've grown! Almost as tall as your Pa, now, aren't you lad. But come, let us go inside. It'll be getting colder in a bit, I'll wager."
They ducked into the hut. It was small but surprisingly warm, the low ceiling and round walls holding in the fire's heat.
"Afraid it'll be a bit tight in here with the four of us," Gard said. He sank down into one of the rooms two chairs, stretching his leg out in front of him. "But Calder and me'll be on our way in the morning."
Palben nodded towards the leg. "What happened there?"
Gard grimaced. "Fell on some rock about a month ago. Calder patched me up, said I'd be alright in another couple of weeks."
"Where is Calder?" Palben asked. He set down is pack by the door and gestured to Maren to do the same.
"He's on lookout," Gard said. "Should be back in a bit. What do you say to some grub while we wait?"
Calder came back just as the sun was setting.
"You look half-frozen," Gard said. "Come in quickly.
Calder hung his cloak and settled on the floor by the fire.
"Saved you some food," Gard said, handing the other man a bowl. He sighed. "Can't wait until we can eat something other than soups and waybread."
Calder quirked a half smile. "All in the service of the Steward," he said sardonically.
"Not this again," Gard said. He turned to Palben. It's been like this all winter. Every time, questioning what we're doing up here."
"It's a fair question," Calder said. "These beacons haven't been lit in centuries. Why should be continue to send villagers to freeze in these godforsaken mountains?"
"You would not have heard," Palben said quietly, "but a trader came to the village not two weeks past with new from Rohan. Rumor is, the entire country was nearly wiped out. By orcs."
"See Calder, I told you," Gard said. "Things are moving, and just because they may not concern us doesn't mean we should withhold our service."
"It'll be Gondor next, I wager," Palben added, "and the beacons may well be needed."
Calder and Gard left the next morning, and Palben and Maren were left on their own. The days faded into a monotony of chopping firewood and looking for food farther down the mountain. And of course, the endless watching of the next mountain over, in case the beacon was ever lit.
It was early evening and Palben sat by the fire whittling. The days were marginally warmer, but the nights were cold enough to freeze, and he worried about Maren, standing lookout this evening.
"Pa!" Maren called from outside, sounding frantic. Palben half stood, fearing for his son.
"Pa!" Maren called again, bursting through the door. He was flushed, but did not seem frightened. "It's the beacon, Pa," he said excitedly. "The beacon from Gondor's been lit!"
Palben stood silent for a moment, nearly shocked into disbelief, then he ran outside. Sure enough, there was the speck over on the next mountain, flickering through the twilight.
He realized that his son had come out beside him. "Don't just stand there, son," he said. "Fetch the oil and a lantern while I grab my cloak."
Both father and son were ready and at the beacon in short order. Maren held the lantern as Palben doused the tower of wood in oil.
"Son, would you do the honors?"
Maren nodded solemnly, then tossed the lantern. The oil-soaked wood caught quickly and soon the outer pieces were all aflame. The stood for a while, as close to the heat as possible.
Finally, Palben spoke. "Not something I thought I'd see in my lifetime, the beacons being lit." Hope this doesn't mean trouble for us, he thought, although he knew the beacons would only be lit if things in Gondor were truly desperate.
"Look Pa," Maren said, pointing. Palben looked to the next mountain just in time to see the next beacon flare up.
Maren was grinning. "We'll have something to tell Ma and the girls, won't we?"
Palben pushed back his fear in the face of his son's excitement. "Yes, son, we certainly will."
Fin.