Chapter 13: Doors and Stairs
Boromir flattened himself against the wall, holding his breath. Gandalf had been captured- they were found out. It would only be moments before men would be bursting into the room to kill or capture him. His body was tensed, ready to fight or flee, whichever chance came first. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a loud hiss behind him.
"Boromir!" He whirled and saw Gandalf peering out at him from between two of the shelves. "Come quickly!" As he came level, he saw a shaded passage between the bookshelves, leading out into another light corridor. He followed Gandalf quickly down the hall, and as they slipped around the corner, he saw men all hurrying the opposite direction toward the loud bangs and shouts. They raced silently away from it, until the noise grew dim and they were alone once more.
"I thought you had been… the shouts!" Boromir said breathlessly. Gandalf had a strange look on his face.
"I thought I was too. I went out to try and see who they were, and I was standing against the wall as a whole group of them were coming around the corner. I thought for sure I was done for, but then there was a loud noise and shouting, and they all started running the other way." He shook his head. "Hopefully our luck holds." He looked around. "They'll either be keeping him up very high or very low. Look for stairs." They had passed many branching rooms and passages on their rapid flight, but no stairs; they now found themselves in a sort of crossroads. Boromir turned full circle, trying to decide which way to go. The place seemed to be an absolute maze of hallways, rooms, and connecting passages. Gandalf seemed to know what they were doing, though, and set off confidently down a wide hall.
Boromir eventually gave up trying to remember where they were, being content to follow Gandalf down long hallways, around corners, and through rooms, never seeing anyone else. He briefly considered asking him if he had any idea where they were going, but decided it was better not to know. Gandalf stopped. "Here it is." They were in a torch-lit hallway, and, half hidden by the shadows, a flight of stairs led down. They galloped down it to find another hallway going perpendicular to the one above it. This hallway ended in another set of stairs down, which led to a hall that curved off in the other direction. As they ran down this one, Boromir noticed with some hope that the torches here were closer together and had been lit more recently than the flickering ones in the hallways above. However, his optimism faded as they reached the end of this hallway to see a flight of stairs leading back up. Boromir moaned in frustration. But, as they had nowhere to go, they went up it. This one went up much longer, fading almost to darkness as it rose steeply, until it terminated in yet another torch-lit passage. This one, however, faded off in both directions.
"Which one, left or right?" Boromir said in a low voice. For the first time, Gandalf hesitated.
"Right." They set off down the silent hall, a little more slowly. Then in the distance, a door appeared. Suddenly, Boromir gasped.
"I don't believe it." As they drew close, a long scratch in the wood could clearly be seen in the flickering torchlight. "It's where we began!" He was at a loss. All this time they had been wandering around, merely to get back to where they came from. He resisted the urge to flop down on the ground and not get up again. Gandalf gazed at the door for a moment, then drew in a deep breath.
"Ri-ight. The other way we go, then." Boromir led the way this time, back where they came from, past the stairs, on down the hall. After a long walk, they came upon a door. When Boromir tried the handle, he found it was locked. He looked to Gandalf.
"Time for more black magic." Gandalf performed the same neat little trick as before, and the door swung open to reveal a rising staircase. It was claustrophobically narrow, spiralling tightly upwards. They began climbing up it, although it was more like climbing a twisted ladder than a flight of stairs. It seemed to go on for hours, and Boromir was climbing almost on all fours, his head down, when he suddenly ran into something, which gave way with a loud 'oof'. Stars exploded in his head. He looked up and saw a cloaked guard, just like the ones who had tried to carry him away, already beginning to rise, his hand on his sword, yelling. Boromir reacted instinctively. He leapt forward, at the same time snatching his dagger from his belt, and sprang on the guard. They went down with a clatter, and Boromir found himself on top of a dead body. He heard the sound of running feet; looking up, he saw another guard running off down the hall. Pulling his dagger from the dead man's throat, he hurled it with practised skill, burying it between the fleeing man's shoulders. He ran silently to the corner, watching for anymore attackers, his hand on his sword. No one else moved in the silent hall. He turned around, his heart pounding, and saw Gandalf standing at the top of the stairs, looking expressionlessly down at the body. Boromir stopped and wrenched his knife out of the other one. Wiping it on his jerkin, he sheathed it as he approached Gandalf. Gandalf looked up.
"Quickly done," was all he said.
"At least we know we're in the right place." Gandalf stepped carefully around the body, and they turned the corner. They found themselves in a short, poorly lit hallway, with three doors in either wall. "I thought you said this wasn't a fortress." Boromir said in a low voice.
"Even sanctuaries can have bad people." Boromir tried the first door on the right. It swung open to reveal a tiny square cell, lit only by a small beam of light from a shaft near the roof. He tried the first cell on the left and second cell on the right with similar results. When he opened the second cell on the left, he froze, his breath caught in his throat. It looked like a massacre had occurred inside. There were pools of blood and filth all over the floor, and streaks and splatters of blood covered one wall. And, leading from the set of shackles on the wall, out the door and to the next cell, was a trail of smeared blood along the floor. With his heart pounding between his ears, Boromir moved, as if in a dream, to the next door. It would not budge. He pushed harder. Nothing. Gently, Gandalf moved him aside, and unlocked it. He stepped back, and Boromir opened the door.
A/N: Oh the suspense of it all! What do you think he should see? Should he find a, alive Faramir, or b, Faramir pushing up daisies? Let me know! Heck I may even listen.