Disclaimer: I don't own Boromir. He belongs to the master, J.R.R. Tolkien. Caern is a (fairly) original creation.

The King's Braid

Chapter Ten

Boromir sank down into the shade of some trees. The day was warm, and he welcomed the momentary coolness. Before him, about half-a-mile distant, rose the walls of Fornost, capital of the North-kingdom. They looked newly repaired, and Boromir knew his only way to enter the city was through the main gates.

He had followed the King's company as closely as he could, but even though they had travelled at a relatively slow pace, they were still on horseback, whereas Boromir was walking. Still, he knew their destination, and it was not imperative that he arrive there immediately after them. Nevertheless, looking at the walls of Fornost, Boromir calculated that Aragorn had to have arrived there at least two days earlier, if not more.

Although he had not been able to afford a horse in order to keep up with the King and his company, Boromir had invested in some new clothes before leaving Bree. Having to enter the city by the main gate meant he wanted to stay as inconspicuous as possible, and his weatherworn apparel of the last few months was not conducive to such a goal. Such a scruffy stranger would certainly be halted and questioned, especially if Marin's influence had spread this far north. So now, although he still wore his old boots and breeches, he had on a clean shirt, and a new cloak was slung over his shoulders. He had also bound his hair back again, as he was wont to do when doing his Steward's duties in Minas Tirith. Instincts honed over the past few months told him that letting his hair hang loose would hide his face, but he knew he had to appear as respectable as possible. Boromir hoped that as long as he kept his head down and didn't draw attention to himself, he wouldn't be recognised.

As he drew nearer to the city, Boromir was dismayed to see numerous people passing in and out of the gate. But these people did not look like friends of the Reunited Kingdom. Indeed, most of Arnor's allies this far north were to be found far to the east, on the other side of the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood, in the settlements of Dale and Esgaroth. No, these visitors to Fornost looked like Dunlendings from Dunland to the south. They were an unfriendly race, and resented the resurrection of the King, much as the Haradrim to the south of Gondor did. It made Boromir uneasy to think that such men were freely admitted to the greatest city of the North-kingdom. He had heard rumours that Minas Tirith was being overrun by Southrons, and his bile had risen at thinking of such a fair city being dirtied by such men. But seeing it here, firsthand, Boromir could appreciate just what changes must have been effected to allow such a thing to happen. 'Marin's influence must be great indeed…or else Aragorn's cruelty extends a lot further than his own personal life,' he thought. But he did not wish to entertain such ideas, so he cast them aside, concentrating on how to get inside the walls of Fornost.

As it turned out, however, the presence of the Dunlendings aided Boromir in his task, for many of them had been employed in the city. As Boromir approached the gate, he could see that the guard there was made up almost entirely of these northerners, none of whom gave him a second glance. To them he was just another commoner attracted to Fornost by opportunity, not the virtually exiled former Steward and lover to the current King.

Once through the gate, Boromir immediately headed for the keep that towered above every other building. Although it was still in disrepair, he guessed that, as the heart of Fornost, it was the most likely place from which to start looking for the King's accommodation. However, he did not get very far…

"Boromir!" said a voice full of question and surprise.

Boromir swung around, his hand already on his sword-hilt, cursing that he had not been more careful to keep out of sight. But when he saw who it was, his hand dropped back to his side and his face broke into a smile as he recognised Caern, the overseer and friend that Aragorn had sent to supervise the rejuvenation of Fornost, so many months ago.

"Caern!" he said, with relief. "It is good to see you, a friendly face amongst so many hostile ones."

"Boromir," Caern repeated. "What are you doing here?"

Boromir's face clouded over. "That I cannot tell you," he replied.

"Is it something to do with the King, and his…councillor?" asked Caern.

The expression on Boromir's face switched to one of surprise, and then one of rueful relief. "You show an uncanny ability to see into the hearts and minds of men," he said.

Caern smiled wryly. "There is nothing uncanny about my deduction," he said. "I have suffered at the hands of Marin, as have you, it seems. Boromir, rumours are rife about your sudden disappearance," he continued. "That, and the changes in King Elessar's method of rule, have combined to make him very unpopular, even here in the north. But it is not his fault. Marin exerts a very strong influence over the King. He holds only one card, but it is powerful enough to make Elessar do his bidding."

"Me," Boromir whispered. Suddenly he understood why Marin had kept him alive.

"Yes," agreed Caern. "Marin knew that you would be too great an obstacle to his plans, so he had to get rid of you. But he also knew that he could use you as a pawn to keep the King under control. Unless Elessar does what Marin tells him, Marin will have you killed."

Boromir's mind reeled. He had already worked it out for himself, but hearing the words spoken aloud was like a punch in the gut. "He should have told me," he murmured. Then he looked up at Caern. "How do you know all this?" he asked.

"When the King arrived here, I could see immediately that something was wrong," replied Caern. "He seemed agitated, but at the same time somehow spiritless – not at all the man I knew in Minas Tirith. So I went up to his rooms to see if there was anything I could do…and I overheard a conversation between him and Marin. It told me everything that I…and you…needed to know."

Boromir nodded. "I must get to him," he said grimly. "Marin must be stopped."

"I agree," said Caern. "And I believe the need is urgent. Marin is currently using the King to put his plans into action, but soon his opinion that the monarchy is surplus to requirements will come to the forefront. Killing the King previously would have put his plans, as well as himself, in jeopardy. But he now has sufficient allies in both Fornost and Minas Tirith to support him once Elessar is dead. Fornost is filling with Dunlendings, as you must have noticed. As soon as word arrived that the King was coming here, they began to flood in. Although I was put in charge here by Elessar months ago, my authority is now nominal at best. It is allies of Marin who really run Fornost now, and there was nothing I could do to stop this invasion of outsiders. And they will support Marin wholeheartedly when he seizes power. Time is of the essence," he finished, little guessing just how right he was. "Come, I will take you to their lodgings."