Author's note: Sorry for the slight delay, real life doesn't understand the
importance of giving me time to write. And the muses are bugging me to
write my novel.
***
Sal struggled, trying to pull himself free, which only served to aggravate his chest. The arms still held him tightly, but not cruelly so.
"Sshh," a voice whispered softly in his ear, "do not be afraid." Sal recognised the voice, and relaxed slightly, but the instruction not to be afraid was a rather difficult one to obey. The arms still held him, but the hand shifted from his mouth. They stood in the darkness, as beyond the door orc-feet charged past.
When finally all had fallen silent, the arms released Sal and he felt the person move passed him. The door was pulled open slightly and in the little light the crack allowed, Sal could see Faramir, looking cautiously out.
"It appears to be clear," he said, before pulling the door open completely. He went first into the tunnel, the motioned that it was safe for Sal to follow.
"I thought you managed to get free during the battle," Faramir said.
"I came back," Sal replied.
"Brave of you," he commented. Sal almost glowed from this praise. He didn't feel very brave though, especially not when compared to someone like Faramir. He felt his actions in the battle had shown him to be the complete opposite.
"How is it that you're free?" Sal asked.
"I hadn't been tied properly. The orcs came into the cell I was in and I pretended to be unconscious. I fought my way free and have been trying to find out where the others of the company are. I was surprised to see you." Sal told him what he had done since the battle, and what he had overheard the orcs saying.
"That does not help us find them," Faramir said when he heard, looking as worried as Sal felt. Together they set off down the tunnel away from the stairs. Sal struggled to keep up with the pace Faramir set, but didn't say anything as he didn't want this great captain of Gondor to think him weak. Faramir noticed though.
"You're hurt?" Sal nodded. He lifted his shirt so that Faramir could see. He touched the wound, causing Sal to gasp in pain.
"I am no healer," Faramir said, "but I think you will live." They went on again, this time slower.
Sal hoped Faramir knew where they were going, after they had taken countless turnings and passed through many doors. Every now and then they had to hide from passing orcs, but so far they had met no challenge.
The tunnels they were travelling through appeared new. At least, the floor hadn't yet been worn smooth by passing feet. Sal kept fortune in his hand, and Faramir held an orc sword. The cool hilt of fortune gave Sal very little comfort, but he was armed, and the orcs wouldn't know how hurt he was. The dirt on his shirt masked the blood that had stained it.
At last they reached a place that was better guarded than the rest of the tunnels. There was a large door, in front of which four orc guards stood. Both took their turn to look, and Sal wanted nothing more than to get away.
Then the screaming began.
There was no doubt the screams were coming from beyond that door. Sal glanced at Faramir and saw fear quickly replaced by determination.
"Can you fight?" he asked Sal in a whisper. Sal nodded, uncertain that he was, but knowing he had to try. It could be King Elessar who was screaming.
With a cry, Faramir charged round the corner, Sal in his wake. The orcs barely had time to react before they were overwhelmed in the assault. Faramir fought fiercely, and Sal could only try not to get hurt, as the orcs attacked the pair of humans. Fortune lived up to its name as Sal defended himself with lucky strokes, until Faramir could kill the last of the orcs.
The battle lasted only moments before the orcs were dead. Sal thought that he might have torn his wound open again, but he had no new injuries. Faramir gave Sal a quick glance, then flung the door open. They ran into the room, Sal only having time for a quick look round the room. The king and the elf were both bound and kneeling on the floor, more orcs standing guard over them. A figure sat on a throne overlooking the room.
Faramir had stopped, staring at the enthroned figure, but Sal didn't notice. He ran at one of the orcs, fortune raised in the attack. He didn't see the other orc raising the whip, until the end curled around his legs. Sal cried out, his legs caught by the whip. He fell to the ground, landing heavily on his chest. He only had a moment to take this in, before he slipped into unconsciousness from the pain.
***
He awoke to find little had changed. He lay on the floor unnoticed. He was careful not to move, in case they noticed that he was conscious again, but looked round the room. The king and Legolas were still bound on the floor, but Legolas looked ready to spring up. The attention of everyone in the room was on Faramir, now held by two orcs, and the figure, who now stood in front of him. The figure's back was to Sal, and he was close to him. The other orcs were further away. If Sal struck quickly they wouldn't have time to react.
Slowly, so as not to attract attention, he shifted his hand closer to the hilt of fortune that lay within reach. Moments passing, and he didn't dare come closer.
"Please, you have to remember," Faramir was saying. Sal saw now that he was crying.
"There is nothing to remember," the figure spat. Sal's hand crept closer to fortune.
"Please," Faramir begged. Sal wondered what was going on, but still his hand inched towards the sword.
"Beg all you like, you cannot change what is." The figure seemed to be taking delight in Faramir's obvious pain.
"Things shouldn't be this way." Sal's hand found the sword's hilt and closed around it. At that moment, an orc saw the movement and gave a shout. Sal was on his feet in the moment, thrusting fortune into the heart of the man as he turned to see what was happening.
"NO!" Faramir yelled. But Sal didn't have time to see what was happening with him. He turned his attack against the orcs, as Legolas leapt to his feet, fighting as well as he was able with his hand bound behind his back.
They came through victorious, but Sal now had a deep gash in his leg. He limped over to the king and freed his arms, finally having time to look round. Faramir was kneeling over the man's body, weeping. Sal didn't understand why he would do this, after what he had just seen and heard. But he saw the similarity between Faramir and the man he had killed, and turned to the king for an answer.
"What. why." he wasn't sure how to ask the question, but the king answered anyway.
"He was Boromir," the king said, "he was Faramir's brother."
***
Author's note: Not quite as good a cliffhanger as the last few, but I'm sure you don't mind about that.
***
Sal struggled, trying to pull himself free, which only served to aggravate his chest. The arms still held him tightly, but not cruelly so.
"Sshh," a voice whispered softly in his ear, "do not be afraid." Sal recognised the voice, and relaxed slightly, but the instruction not to be afraid was a rather difficult one to obey. The arms still held him, but the hand shifted from his mouth. They stood in the darkness, as beyond the door orc-feet charged past.
When finally all had fallen silent, the arms released Sal and he felt the person move passed him. The door was pulled open slightly and in the little light the crack allowed, Sal could see Faramir, looking cautiously out.
"It appears to be clear," he said, before pulling the door open completely. He went first into the tunnel, the motioned that it was safe for Sal to follow.
"I thought you managed to get free during the battle," Faramir said.
"I came back," Sal replied.
"Brave of you," he commented. Sal almost glowed from this praise. He didn't feel very brave though, especially not when compared to someone like Faramir. He felt his actions in the battle had shown him to be the complete opposite.
"How is it that you're free?" Sal asked.
"I hadn't been tied properly. The orcs came into the cell I was in and I pretended to be unconscious. I fought my way free and have been trying to find out where the others of the company are. I was surprised to see you." Sal told him what he had done since the battle, and what he had overheard the orcs saying.
"That does not help us find them," Faramir said when he heard, looking as worried as Sal felt. Together they set off down the tunnel away from the stairs. Sal struggled to keep up with the pace Faramir set, but didn't say anything as he didn't want this great captain of Gondor to think him weak. Faramir noticed though.
"You're hurt?" Sal nodded. He lifted his shirt so that Faramir could see. He touched the wound, causing Sal to gasp in pain.
"I am no healer," Faramir said, "but I think you will live." They went on again, this time slower.
Sal hoped Faramir knew where they were going, after they had taken countless turnings and passed through many doors. Every now and then they had to hide from passing orcs, but so far they had met no challenge.
The tunnels they were travelling through appeared new. At least, the floor hadn't yet been worn smooth by passing feet. Sal kept fortune in his hand, and Faramir held an orc sword. The cool hilt of fortune gave Sal very little comfort, but he was armed, and the orcs wouldn't know how hurt he was. The dirt on his shirt masked the blood that had stained it.
At last they reached a place that was better guarded than the rest of the tunnels. There was a large door, in front of which four orc guards stood. Both took their turn to look, and Sal wanted nothing more than to get away.
Then the screaming began.
There was no doubt the screams were coming from beyond that door. Sal glanced at Faramir and saw fear quickly replaced by determination.
"Can you fight?" he asked Sal in a whisper. Sal nodded, uncertain that he was, but knowing he had to try. It could be King Elessar who was screaming.
With a cry, Faramir charged round the corner, Sal in his wake. The orcs barely had time to react before they were overwhelmed in the assault. Faramir fought fiercely, and Sal could only try not to get hurt, as the orcs attacked the pair of humans. Fortune lived up to its name as Sal defended himself with lucky strokes, until Faramir could kill the last of the orcs.
The battle lasted only moments before the orcs were dead. Sal thought that he might have torn his wound open again, but he had no new injuries. Faramir gave Sal a quick glance, then flung the door open. They ran into the room, Sal only having time for a quick look round the room. The king and the elf were both bound and kneeling on the floor, more orcs standing guard over them. A figure sat on a throne overlooking the room.
Faramir had stopped, staring at the enthroned figure, but Sal didn't notice. He ran at one of the orcs, fortune raised in the attack. He didn't see the other orc raising the whip, until the end curled around his legs. Sal cried out, his legs caught by the whip. He fell to the ground, landing heavily on his chest. He only had a moment to take this in, before he slipped into unconsciousness from the pain.
***
He awoke to find little had changed. He lay on the floor unnoticed. He was careful not to move, in case they noticed that he was conscious again, but looked round the room. The king and Legolas were still bound on the floor, but Legolas looked ready to spring up. The attention of everyone in the room was on Faramir, now held by two orcs, and the figure, who now stood in front of him. The figure's back was to Sal, and he was close to him. The other orcs were further away. If Sal struck quickly they wouldn't have time to react.
Slowly, so as not to attract attention, he shifted his hand closer to the hilt of fortune that lay within reach. Moments passing, and he didn't dare come closer.
"Please, you have to remember," Faramir was saying. Sal saw now that he was crying.
"There is nothing to remember," the figure spat. Sal's hand crept closer to fortune.
"Please," Faramir begged. Sal wondered what was going on, but still his hand inched towards the sword.
"Beg all you like, you cannot change what is." The figure seemed to be taking delight in Faramir's obvious pain.
"Things shouldn't be this way." Sal's hand found the sword's hilt and closed around it. At that moment, an orc saw the movement and gave a shout. Sal was on his feet in the moment, thrusting fortune into the heart of the man as he turned to see what was happening.
"NO!" Faramir yelled. But Sal didn't have time to see what was happening with him. He turned his attack against the orcs, as Legolas leapt to his feet, fighting as well as he was able with his hand bound behind his back.
They came through victorious, but Sal now had a deep gash in his leg. He limped over to the king and freed his arms, finally having time to look round. Faramir was kneeling over the man's body, weeping. Sal didn't understand why he would do this, after what he had just seen and heard. But he saw the similarity between Faramir and the man he had killed, and turned to the king for an answer.
"What. why." he wasn't sure how to ask the question, but the king answered anyway.
"He was Boromir," the king said, "he was Faramir's brother."
***
Author's note: Not quite as good a cliffhanger as the last few, but I'm sure you don't mind about that.