The rangers of Ithilien and other guards of Minas Tirith had wanted to see their captain the night before, when the happy news of his recovery was brought to them. Yet Beregond denied them entry as Faramir clearly needed rest. Now Mablung was glad to see Faramir awake. From him Faramir learnt that one third of the men he led to Osgiliath were lost on the retreat, but those who made it to the City had been well taken care of by the healers and were recovering.

Mablung also brought some news of the King, for the City guards and the riders of Rohan had enthusiastically talked about the King who returned in a black fleet which bore his banner, with many strong men from the Southern fiefs behind him. He further told them that the King, or the Lord Elfstone as people called him, laboured almost all night to heal those in the Houses of Healing and many more in the Pelennor. Some of the Ithilien rangers were among those he healed.

"And is he now in the Citadel?" asked Faramir.

In reply to this Beregond reported what he heard from the Prince Imrahil, that the Lord Aragorn would remain outside the City until the Lord of the City bade him enter. Faramir said nothing. If he was pleased or disturbed with this arrangement, he did not show it. Presently he spoke again, "The Prince commands the City now, I believe?"

"Aye, but only for a while," said Beregond, "until you are well enough to assume your duty, my lord."


That day the Prince Imrahil came when the sun was about to set. He sat besides Faramir, and said nothing for a while.

"You have my gratitude, lord," said Faramir. "Mablung told me how you bore me to the city".

"I should have come to you sooner," Imrahil replied. "It broke my heart to see you lie so still. We all thought you were dead. But I am glad now. You are awake, and will soon recover."

"And I am glad to see you unscathed," Faramir said. "But what is our remaining strength? Much as I wish it, I do not believe that the recent assault would be the last. We should plan our defence for the next one."

"Perhaps you would find it hard to believe," Imrahil answered, "but we have more strength now than before the siege. The King of Rohan came with six thousands riders, of which about four thousands remain. Two thirds of the City guard remain. I lost about two hundreds of my knights, but we still have five hundreds. Four thousands men are even now on their way from Pelargir, led by Angborn. We have also with us some Rangers from the North."

"Even the DĂșnedain of the North came to our aid? This is glad tidings."

"Lord Aragorn summoned them, for they are his kinsmen. There are perhaps only thirty of them, but their strength cannot be counted by number alone. And the sons of Elrond are among them."

Faramir looked at him with wonder. "Halflings walk in our land, the King returns, and the sons of Elrond fight in our war. Such things have been unheard of in Gondor for thousands of years!" His face grew grave as he continued, "Such dark a shadow was also unheard of." Then to Imrahil's surprise his eyes brightened as he said, "We live in a great time, Uncle."

Imrahil stared at him. No doubt he thought that no one but this sister-son of his would consider living amidst such threat from Mordor a great thing. But he understood Faramir better than many others did. "Indeed. We live in the brink of doom."

He kept his gaze on Faramir for a moment. Then he said plainly, "Denethor has fallen."

"So Beregond told me. Do you know how Father fell?"

"I was in Pelennor at that time. He fell inside the City. I believe you should not trouble yourself about it now." There was a glint of anger in his eyes which did not escape Faramir. "After you are well, Mithrandir may tell you of Denethor's passing, for he was with your father until his last."

"He did not die well," Faramir said. It was more a statement than a question.

"Alas, he did not."

After a while Faramir spoke again, "Where is he now? Had he been laid properly?"

Again there was a glint of anger in the Prince's eyes. "Trouble not yourself, fair nephew," he said. "He lies now in the House of the Stewards."

Faramir looked at him for a moment but refrained from asking further. Instead he asked Imrahil to continue his account on the plan for defence.

"There was a council of the Captains this morning," said Imrahil. "Mithrandir counselled that an army of the West should march to challenge the Dark Lord in his own land. He mentioned the Ring of Power and a Ring-bearer that is even now on his quest to destroy it. He thought that if we come to challenge him, Sauron may muster all his strength to crush us, thus emptying his land and providing a chance for the Ring-bearer to destroy the Ring.

"Mithrandir himself admitted that there is not much hope. We are to go to Mordor as bait and most likely we will be crushed. But no better counsel was proposed. The Lord Aragorn and the King of Rohan agreed to follow his lead. But we will not march with all our strength. We have ensured that there will be sufficient strength to defend Minas Tirith."

Imrahil continued carefully, "I gave the Lord Aragorn my words that I would go with him, and bring with me the knights of Dol Amroth and other men of Gondor that are willing to go. But I gave him only my personal support in this matter. In no way did I presume to accept his claim on the kingship with the authority of the Steward of Gondor. I would not transgress your authority, Faramir. I hope you approve my decisions?"

Faramir stared for a moment, as if in surprise. Then he smiled gravely as he remembered that he was the new Steward of Gondor. "I thank you for your high regard for me, lord. And worry not, I approve your decisions. As you may have heard from Mithrandir, I was not in the dark about the Ring and the quest of its bearer. I am willing to admit that their quest is more important than even the defence of Minas Tirith. So I give you my full support to bring a part of the army of Gondor. They shall march under the banner of the Steward."

Imrahil looked at his nephew with pride. "I will send you a report concerning the allocation of the soldiers. And I think it would be best if you issue a decree of your consent that I can show to the other Captains of Gondor. None of them has spoken their refusal to go, but I think a decree form the Steward will make them go whole in heart."

"I will see to it," said Faramir. "And please ask the Captains to see me. I will speak to them on this matter."

Imrahil nodded. Then with a softer voice he spoke again, "I am not sure I will be able to see you again before the Host depart. May you soon regain your full strength in body and in heart, Faramir. You are needed." He kissed Faramir's brow.

Faramir answered, "May your sword never fail, lord, and may you return safe," his voice dropped almost into a whisper, "you are my closest kin now."

His last words grieved Imrahil. In an abrupt move he drew Faramir to his arms and embraced him fiercely. "I will do my best to guard myself, son. As so must you."

Then he straightened up and said solemnly, "I will take my leave, my lord Steward. I will send the report to you without delay." He bowed and left the room.