Guys, don't expect this kind of productivity from me all the time. It just isn't going to happen. (Hell, I don't even know how I'm doing this right now.)
Chapter 4: The Steward of Gondor
We all slept very lightly. Every noise jolted me awake, movements sensed in the small clearing making me crack my eyes open for a look. The moment morning began to filter through the trees we began to pack up and refill the water, letting the horses and ponies and dogs get one last drink before they were hitched or packed up.
Those of us on horses tightly circled the caravan, never far away within the trees, urging the draft animals forward at a good trot. The horses were skittish and the dogs also seemed to know that something was going on, ears always perked up and heads on swivels.
At the head of the column, Stevie held his hand up for a halt. The wheels all rolled to a slow stop, while the riders convened.
"What's up?" Andy asked instantly, patting the neck of her pretty chestnut mare.
"Listen," Stevie whispered.
Without background noise, the clang of metal on metal was muffled only by the trees. Men and things that definitely weren't men shouted and screamed, commands shouted.
"Battle ahead," Madhav murmured.
"Can we go around it?" Brise asked sensibly, only for everyone (including her) to shake their heads.
"It's to the northwest, right in the direction we need to go," Matt said for everyone.
There was only one thing we could do: the riders form a screen while the carts were driven as fast as the horses could run. Dezzie, Brise, and Lance gave up their horses to Liam, Electra, and Aunt Libby; weapons were readied, including a few small recurve bows that had been used for hunting up until now.
"Ready?"
I looked to Anahera, at the driver's seat of the lead wagon. She nodded decisively.
"Let's go."
"Hyeh!" I bumped my poor horse's side hard with the inside of my foot. As intended, she bolted.
It was a wonder to ride at speed, something that I knew I'd love if this weren't a crisis. With one hand I steered the reins and the other held my halberd in a white knuckled grip as with the other riders we burst from the canopy.
Partially on behalf of my smaller horse I allowed Andy, Mackey, Matt, Liam, and Stevie to pass me by. Beside them Anahera's wagon rocketed forward, enormous draft horses running for their lives and the wooden vehicle bouncing hard; she was followed by Pitaajee, Gran, and Brise, then Dezzie at the seat of the open-top cart. Beside those vehicles rode Electra, Aunt Libby, Madhav, and Aditi on their smaller horses like mine, following in the wake of the larger animals.
I closed in to escort the carriage, Grandpa bouncing along in the driver's seat while Nan and Aaron just tried to stay seated. "Alright?!" I called over to Nan.
She laughed delightedly. "Never better!" she crowed, even as she clutched at the opposite bench.
"Stay down!" I called and went back to keeping a watch on the surroundings.
Ahead I could see a ruined white city straddling the river, flashes of steel and splotches of black all over it. The war cries of the beings in black had turned to panic and ahead of me in the column, I could see several corpses that had been crushed under hooves.
Creatures that were humanoid but most definitely not human had been scattered and as I watched, men in beautiful plate armor pursued them across the plain. One ran toward me with a large sword above its head, wailing something that would have been a war cry if it didn't sound terrifying.
I dropped the reins, trusting my horse to know where to go. Using both hands I swung the halberd's axe head into the creature's head and in a continuation of that same motion pulled it back out, spraying myself with black blood. Oh gods, that was never going to come out of my shirt, was it? But I didn't get to think of that for long, finding several more heads to chop open on the way to the city.
Beside the wagons Freckles and Speckles ran, barking as they chased away any threats then circled back around. One of them even bit one of the monsters that tried climbing onto the carriage, allowing me to ride in for the kill; the dog then ran forward to join its companion in causing havoc.
In the carriage, Nan screamed.
"C'Mon, girl!" I shouted to my horse and pulled her around to the other side of the carriage.
One of those hideous creatures had climbed onto the side of the carriage and a horrible serrated knife was stuck in the wood of the carriage. I recognized Nan's frail hands around its skull even while it clawed at her, not even trying to keep hold anymore.
Again I trusted the horse, using the pike at the top of my halberd to stab the thing in its torso.
It screamed and fell away; before it was trampled under my horse's hooves I saw that its eyes had been destroyed.
At the same time we entered the ruined city and were forced to slow. Other creatures attacked the wagons and riders, but more and more often they were overwhelmed by men in plate armor before they could get near.
One creature jumped from the top of a building onto the carriage. I could see it hold its sword up, ready to slice Grandpa apart where he sat on the driver's bench.
Praying that I'd be in time, I urged my horse forward harder. I stood up in my saddle and squeezed the horse's sides with my legs to hopefully keep myself seated, brought my halberd up-
An arrow pierced the thing's throat. With a warbling screech, it fell and laid still on the top of the carriage.
Just to be sure, I gave its head a good hack. Double-tap.
It twitched and then was still again.
Finally a bridge was ahead and no monsters in sight. I gratefully fell behind and allowed the carriage to cross first, letting out a breath of relief that we were finally out of the worst danger.
At the edge of the city we all gathered to assess the damage. While Aunt Libby inspected the wooden structures, Mackey and I looked at our companions for injury.
By some miracle, there were very few injuries. Nan was the worst off of everyone, with all the scratches on her hands and arms after she fought off the creature that climbed on the carriage. "Some training never goes away," she said when I asked about the thing's eyes, then asked, "Is there any way I can wash my hands now?"
Laughing, I told her, "That's a very good idea. Then I'll bandage them up."
I'm going to be bow-legged for life, I thought with some amusement while I hobbled around my mare to take care of her. "You deserve a good name," I told her while I stroked her black-splattered nose, "I've been thinking, your coat reminds me of those cool knives I saw on the internet that one time. I think they were called Damascus steel?" It sounded right, so I nodded to myself and asked, "How about Damascus? You like that name?"
The mare nudged my face and nickered gently.
"Alright, Damascus. When I find one, I'll get you a carrot, you good girl," I promised, "And when we can, you're getting a bath and a good brushing down."
"Pardon my interruption," said an unknown voice, and I whirled around to face a middle aged brunette man wearing a rich black cloak, "Who is the leader of this caravan?"
I shrugged. "I haven't really thought of that, but I guess Aunt Libby," I told him, "She's the one with the grey and red hair, probably looking at the woodwork."
For some reason the man looked surprised.
"What?" I asked, not seeing anything interesting about myself besides the splatters of black on my clothes.
"I apologize, but I thought you were a man," the stranger said.
Oh. Right. After so long alone with my family, I had forgotten all about my scars. "Right, my face tends to get that reaction," I told him to defuse some of the awkwardness, "Let me bring my horse over there and then I'll take you to Aunt Libby." I pointed to where Dezzie was helping Pitaajee take care of the various horses after their hard work.
"Who's that?" Dezzie whispered when I handed her Damascus's reins.
"I dunno, he wants to be taken to our leader." I couldn't help myself, I did my best (still bad) alien impression.
She giggled. "He's kinda cute," she said.
Oh no, not going there.
Very quickly I returned to the stranger's side to help him find Aunt Libby. "Sorry, but I don't think I got your name," I told him while I scanned the faces we passed.
"I am Boromir, Captain of the White Tower," he answered and offered his hand.
Despite the black staining his hands, I shook his hand like Grandpa had taught me: firm and decisive but not aggressive. "Cassandra van der Zee, corporal of the United States Marines," I returned.
At that point I spotted Aunt Libby tutting over a cracked wheel on one of the wagons. Her tools were out, so I hoped she could repair it and get us out of here.
When she saw the man with me and his important looking cloak, she wiped her hands on a work apron and got to her feet. I swore I felt her knees crack. "Hello," she told him with a small smile, "Sorry if we ruined your battle plan."
Boromir grinned wryly. "It's thanks to your sudden charge that we won," he told her, "The battle was not going to plan even before your caravan's arrival."
My eyebrows shot up and I exchanged glances with Aunt Libby.
"Do you need any assistance? I see that you have your elderly and a woman who is with child, with you. Do they need any medical care?" Boromir asked.
"Mackey!" I shouted.
She poked her head out from behind one of the cleaner wagons.
"Anybody else injured?" I called.
"Nah! Bandaging Nan's hands, she's the worst!" she hollered back.
Satisfied, I looked to Aunt Libby.
"Do you know where we can buy supplies?" she was asking of Boromir, "We still have a long way to go and we're running low. And I need to make a couple new wheels."
He seemed almost relieved as he agreed. "Yes, the city of Minas Tirith is just across the plain," he told her, gesturing to what looked like a white cake to my near-sighted eyes, "If you give me some time, I can bring you there."
With facial expressions and shrugs, Aunt Libby and I conversed. Then she told Boromir, "We need a bit of time to gather ourselves anyways. Find us when you're ready." She pointed to the cracked wheel.
We all scattered, me telling everyone to get ready to go while Aunt Libby repaired the wagon. I was greeted with groans about sore bums and multiple glares from Mother, who had just managed to bum a pipe off a soldier with a beard. "Don't worry," I told Rosie when she started to get upset, "It's just right there."
She got so excited when she saw the city built out of the mountain. "It's like Elsa's palace!" she declared immediately.
"Mhm, just stone instead of ice," I agreed, despite not remembering what either castle looked like, "The faster we all get into our seats, the faster we get there." That quickly secured Rosie's cooperation.
The idea of food and safety eventually warmed everyone up to the idea of moving just a little further onward. By the time Boromir found us with his own horse, the last of us were getting onto horses.
"Are you ready?" he asked Libby where she was back at a wagon bench.
"Very," she answered and cracked the reins.
Now that we were at least somewhat less likely to die, we gave the poor horses a break and stayed at a trot across the golden plain. The smell of dried grass was a pleasant addition to the smells of horse and monster blood as it was crushed beneath hooves and wheels.
At my side, Boromir watched with interest as the vehicles rolled onward. "My brother warned me that a caravan was coming, but I didn't really believe him," he admitted, "It has been many years since traders came up the Harad Road. What brings you such a long way?"
"We're migrating. Looking for a new home west of the Misty Mountains," I replied, "All we want is a bit of peace and quiet somewhere green." I was itching for an apple or some carrots, just something cool and crunchy and sweet.
Suddenly, I missed the convenience of the supermarket.
Boromir nodded sympathetically. "I am not sure that peace is to be found anywhere," he told me with surprising honesty, "I hope that you find it, however." How sweet.
"Thanks. So what was happening with those monsters? Things are… very different where we come from." I may as well find out what we just faced, and might continue to face.
His face went hard. "The orcs of Mordor," he said, "They creep ever closer to my city, killing all they can. They are the Dark Lord Sauron's minions, used to cut down our armies while their Lord plans our final destruction and his own reign over our land." His grip on the reins tightened briefly before he forced himself to relax.
Because of course there was a Dark Lord; now they needed a Harry Potter. It certainly explained the monsters and black blood. But what do you say to that? "Oh, that sucks," doesn't seem to cover it.
From there the conversation went to practical matters like what kind of provisions we need and how long we expected to be on the road. "Do you know if anyone here would be interested in buying some ivory?" I asked.
We had discovered a treasure trove of the stuff in one of the wagons on the first day and there had been a vehement fight over what to do with it. Some of us declared it dirty and immoral and the rest figured that since we didn't know where it came from, we couldn't judge. And besides, it was there for a reason.
Now Boromir perked up. "Ivory?" he repeated, then said, "I can think of a great many people who would be interested, but I'm not sure how many would be able to pay its worth. Perhaps the Steward will take notice."
Then we reached the city gates, which were bigger than I could have imagined. Carvings of men and a white tree decorated them, the image splitting as they opened to admit us.
The courtyard wasn't big enough for the wagons and such, so they simply circled back out to park near the enormous walls. By now, there was no separating us and everyone on horseback followed the vehicles to make a defensive half-circle.
Boromir followed and watched with bemusement as we watered the horses, dogs, and then ourselves. Only after Aunt Libby and I had washed our faces and hands did we join him. "Sorry, didn't want to scare more children than usual," I declared cheerfully.
"Thank you for bringing us here and for telling us a bit about the area," Aunt Libby told Boromir with a smile, "Is there anything we can do for you?" She was basically telling him to get bent unless he had further business with us.
"As thanks for your assistance in the battle, I had hoped that I could purchase your provisions for you," Boromir explained, "It's the least I can do for saving the lives of so many of my men."
Said that way, it would be rude to refuse. We organized who would go into town and who would stay put, and then a group of us followed Boromir inside the gates.
People greeted Boromir happily, almost adoringly. Children waved at him and old men grinned toothlessly as they hobbled past. Not just a soldier, I guessed, or they really loved their military.
A messenger intercepted us before we could reach the promised shops. "Lord Denethor wishes to speak to you and the two leaders of the caravan, Lord Boromir," the boy reported breathlessly.
Under his breath the Captain muttered something I didn't catch, then dismissed the boy with, "I will be there soon." He scrubbed a hand down his face briefly. I got a brief glimpse of a tiredness that seemed eternal, and really felt for him.
"Apologies for the delay, I will return when possible to help get your supplies," Boromir told us with a tight smile, "Libby, Cassandra, it seems that you're expected to come with me."
It was flattering to be called anything like a leader. Most of the time it felt like nobody listened to me.
Stevie, Madhav, and Andy split off to have a drink at one of the taverns while they waited for Aunt Libby and I to return.
It would turn out to be a very long drink. Just looking at all the levels we would have to ascend made me thirsty to be with them.
On the way up, Boromir explained a few things. "Since you seem to be from far away, you may not know that the Steward rules in place of the king. He has all the powers of a king except that he does not wear a crown or sit on the throne," he explained between greetings to townspeople.
As we ascended, the city got more affluent; the intricate homes that we passed on the upper levels were literally the upper class. Glances at Aunt Libby and I grew more derisive.
At the top level the sun was bright and for the first time since I entered Minas Tirith, I didn't feel crowded. In the middle of the courtyard a dead, white tree stood under guard by four very important looking guards.
There was no time to ask about the tree; Boromir held the door of a palace open for Aunt Libby and me to enter. "Be careful what you say," he warned in a low voice that still managed to echo around the entry chamber, "The Steward sees things that no man should be able to and is very clever."
Upon seeing that we understood, Boromir composed himself and knocked three times on the doors before us.
They were opened by a pair of guards, allowing us into a long hall lined with statues. Were these previous kings? I counted 33 before my eyes were drawn to a large, empty seat at the top of a tall dais, a throne worthy of a king.
"There is my victorious captain!" A joyous voice attracted my attention to a smaller chair only one step up the dais, occupied by a man who looked to be on the edge of elderly. Long grey hair was slicked back from a square, paunchy face where clever grey eyes sparked. I got the image of someone who used to be very fit but let himself go after getting a desk job.
Quietly Aunt Libby and I watched the Steward embrace Boromir, asking eagerly for details of the newly won battle. It was interesting enough to listen to medieval military tactics that I didn't mind simply standing there.
"We were being forced back toward the bridges when we heard horses and saw a line of wagons and carts, of all things, cutting through the enemy's left flank. They fled in the face of what they thought were reinforcements and my men followed for nearly a mile until we were sure that the orcs had gone back to the holes they came from," Boromir finished, gesturing to Aunt Libby and me, "The wagons are lead by Libby and Cassandra."
Suddenly the Steward's eyes were on us and cold. "What were you doing in Harad?" he snapped, returning to his seat.
"Trying to get out of there," Aunt Libby answered.
"And why do you insist on bringing Haradrim with you into Gondor?" the Steward questioned almost accusingly.
At the unfamiliar term, I looked to Boromir to translate. "Sorry, who's he talking about?" I asked.
"The dark skinned people," he provided helpfully.
I scowled at the Steward. "They're my step-father and step-siblings, I'm not going to leave them behind," I told him, "And they're not Haradrim, they're Indian. Completely different."
"And my daughter in law," Aunt Libby added fiercely. She didn't bother to correct that Anahera was Samoan; not like anyone would understand what she meant.
Or believe her, it looks like. "Where are you going that you must pass through my land?" the Steward demanded.
"Eriador," I answered in a clipped voice.
For a long moment he looked me in the eye, and I mentally told him to go fuck himself.
He sneered furiously at me. Did he read my mind or something? "Get your supplies and leave Minas Tirith by nightfall," he ordered, "Boromir, ensure that this is done."
The good captain bowed and ensured it, backing away several feet before he turned to leave.
I didn't bother and abruptly turned my back on the rude man.
Out in the entry chamber, Boromir looked like he was restraining himself from throttling me. "What did you think, to make him so angry?" he demanded incredulously.
Not at all impressed, I put a hand on my hip. "He was insulting my family, so I told him to get bent," I sniffed.
The horror in Boromir's face was so ridiculous. He just couldn't believe it, openly gaping at me as he slowly shook his head.
Perhaps a little too personal, I tapped under his bearded chin in a reminder to close it. "Flies will get in if you leave it open too long," I teased like I did to Aaron all the time.
"Let's just get the shopping done and get out," Aunt Libby sighed, "Now that you've made us our first enemy here." She grabbed me by the back of my neck and forcibly walked me out, not listening to my feeble protests.
Not like I wanted to stick around here anyways. This place was lame as hell.