V. In the Great Hall
Meals in the Steward's household were usually taken in company in the Great Hall. Servants, clerks, family, guests, all dined together at long tables, arranged by rank. Normally Denethor himself sat at the top of the room, with those councilors and captains who might be present and any others he chose. Today it appeared that the council was eating in its chamber in the White Tower to save time during their deliberations, for the high table was still empty as Faramir, Mithrandir, and Golasgil entered amid the clattering sounds of food being served and the hubbub of conversation.
Faramir led the two older men to the high table. In his father's absence it was his duty to represent the Steward at the meal, and he had no desire to dine alone, regardless of where his companions' rank might normally place them. They could ask Denethor's permission for Master Golasgil to take leave and Mithrandir to teach Faramir later in the day.
"I understand that you travel a good deal, Master Mithrandir," said Golasgil. "Can you tell us news of the lands to the North?"
Mithrandir dipped a piece of bread in his soup before replying.
"Dale thrives since the dragon Smaug was killed, nearly sixty years ago that is now. Bain, son of Bard the dragon-slayer, has been king these twenty years, and has restored the old amity with Dáin II and the Dwarves of Erebor. The Dale folk trade with the Dwarves, and along the River Running with the Elves of Mirkwood, and down the Anduin. No doubt you have seen some of their goods in the markets here. I gather that some of their wares even travel over the Misty Mountains into Eriador."
"Into Eriador? But who lives there now, since the end of the kingdoms of Cardolan, Rhudaur, and Arthedain? I thought that land uninhabited," commented Faramir, and Golasgil nodded, for he too had believed it so.
"There are few who dwell there, it is true. But some Men still live in scattered villages near the old North Road, and the lands of the Periannath – as the Elves call them – lie mostly west of the Baranduin River. Even some of the blood of Númenor remain, Dúnedain who guard those lesser folk against Orcs and other fell creatures of the wild, though their purpose is oft misunderstood by the very people they protect. Never think that Gondor is the only place left with a memory of glory, or a watch to keep," answered Mithrandir gravely. "Many Men, and Elves, and Dwarves in other lands also strive against the servants of the Dark Lord, even as your people do."
"I had not thought much about that," admitted Faramir.
"We of Gondor have perhaps contracted our views over time," said Golasgil. "Our people grow less numerous, and we no longer even claim the land of Calenardhon north of the Ered Nimrais as once we did. The Rohirrim have lived there since 2510, when Eorl the Young won the victory at the Field of Celebrant, and Cirion the Steward ceded the province to him and his people. Now we rely on Rohan to defend our northern border and rarely consider what happens beyond."
Faramir continued to listen as Mithrandir discussed more of the doings of the world beyond Gondor with Golasgil, but he was equally intent on eating enough of his noon meal to hold him over until the evening. If he was to have a practice bout with Boromir later this afternoon, he knew he needed to eat well now. His brother and he had not set a definite time for their match, but Faramir assumed that the council meeting would end by late afternoon. Several of the councilors besides Boromir also served as captains in the army, and had duties there that they would need to tend to before evening. Faramir caught the sleeve of one of the servants passing behind him and smiled at her.
"Serindë, would you be so good as to send word to me when the council break up for the day? Or better yet, ask my brother to come to find me in the muniments room when they finish, rather than meeting me in the practice yard."
"Certainly, sir," she said. "Rodnor is serving in the council chambers today; I will have him speak to the lord Boromir. And please," she hesitated, "if you would be kind enough to thank your brother for me, for his patronage of my brother. Hunthor was so pleased to be admitted into his company."
"I will," promised Faramir. "Thank you, Serindë."
He turned back to his meal and saw Mithrandir looking at him curiously.
"So Boromir is a good captain, eh?" asked the wizard.
"Oh, yes," said Faramir earnestly. "Men from all over Gondor seek to join his company. Though none who defends our borders is safe, few of Boromir's men perish, for he does not spend lives recklessly. He thinks it better to be careful, for though Orcs breed like dung-beetles in the stableyard, the lives of men are not so easily replaced. Which is not to say that he is a coward, nor even overcautious, just that he has a reputation for caring for his men in a way that some captains do not."
"And you admire him."
"Of course I do: he is a great warrior, a great leader of men. One day he will be the Steward of Gondor, and thus my lord as well as my brother, but I could not choose a man I would rather follow. Do not believe I think him perfect," Faramir added hastily. "I know he has his failings. He is impatient with the tedium of making policy and would rather be in action on the field, defending Minas Tirith with the strength of his arm instead of worrying about how her sewers are cleaned."
Mithrandir had been holding Faramir's gaze steadily as the boy described his brother. Now he said, "How, then, will he be as Steward? For is it not the case that a Steward most often must sit in the Tower of Ecthelion and direct the deeds of others, rather than performing them himself?"
"You are right, but Boromir and I have talked of this at times. Though I shall have to serve in war as well, my role will be as his chief advisor and counselor. And if the people trust me enough, then Boromir will be free to lead the army himself at times, which he would prefer. He knows that I would not try to take power behind his back," said Faramir.
"So you will be your brother's shadow," mused Mithrandir. "Well, the presence of a shadow shows that there is sun as well. May your brother's rule be prosperous, but first may your father's rule be long."
"I thank you for your good wishes, my lord Mithrandir," came a resonant voice dryly from behind them. Faramir sprang to his feet as Denethor pulled out his chair to sit.
"Father, I – we – have a request to make of you," he said hastily.
"And what might that be?" said his father, using his knife to spear a slab of cheese from the platter. "Today's council is not yet over, I have only a few minutes, but I always like to appear in the Hall at noontide, as you know. I would not be thought of as too proud to sit with my own folk."
"This will take but a moment. Lord Mithrandir wishes me to assist him, as we spoke of yestereve, and says he will also instruct me in history and in the Elven languages as well. Since he will need most of my time, except the late afternoons when I have arms practice anyway, Master Golasgil would like to take several weeks' leave to visit his sister's family," said Faramir, his words tumbling over one another in his anxiety to get them out.
"Hmm. Where do they live, your sister and her folk?" Denethor asked Golasgil.
"South, near to Edhellond, but to the west of the River Ringló," answered Golasgil. "I would travel down Anduin and go by ship through the Bay of Belfalas to Cobas Haven."
"Indeed, the sensible way to travel there," Denethor approved. "Very well. Shall we say a month's leave? I believe you intended to be here at least a month, Mithrandir?"
Mithrandir nodded. "A month or more, yes."
"I have given this matter some thought, Faramir, since it was first proposed last evening. Normally Master Golasgil provides me with regular reports on the progress of your studies. In his absence, I shall require you to write a detailed weekly summary of all that you and the lord Mithrandir study and discuss, and to give me brief verbal reports as well, when I choose. Are you willing to undertake this responsibility?" Denethor asked.
Faramir nodded eagerly, although it crossed his mind that Denethor's requirement would mean that he would report as much on the wizard's doings as on his own. Now, why should he want that? Surely he trusts Master Mithrandir, or he would not allow him to use Gondor's archives.
"In that case, you have my permission, Faramir, to study with Mithrandir instead of Golasgil for the time being, and Golasgil, you may leave at your convenience. As it is now the twelfth of Ringarë, I shall expect to see you again in Narvinyë, about the middle of the month."
Denethor arose, still chewing the crust of his bread. "I must return now. I will see you this evening, Faramir. Boromir reminds me that he will be sparring with you later; I look forward to his evaluation of your progress. Good afternoon, Golasgil, Mithrandir." And with that the Steward departed.
Faramir sat down again and sighed. After a moment he felt Mithrandir's hand on his shoulder and looked up to see the old man smiling kindly down at him.
"Your father is efficient in his disposal of time, is he not? I imagine that can be wearing for you on occasion. But now we should also go and return to our work for a few hours. Are you ready?"
Hastily swallowing the last of his nut pastry, Faramir stood. "Yes, sir. At your will!" And they departed from the hall.
