Author's note: This is a sequel to Fortune's Blade, but you don't have to
have read that one to understand this. I'll give you some basic info from
that story so you'll know what's going on, without giving away the
storyline in case you decide to read Fortune's Blade later.
It's set after the War of the Ring, and this story is a few years after Fortune's Blade so it's now about ten years since Sauron was defeated.
King Elessar gave Salafir a sword called fortune, and a silver broach shaped like a tree. The broach is given to people who do something really important for Gondor or the king.
That's about it, if there's anything else I'll let you know later.
***
The two occupants of the small cell sat in silence. There wasn't anything to say. Sal and Bergil both sat, staring at the floor, chains around their wrists and ankles. Sal's thoughts were of the previous time he had been like this, but there was no hope this time. Why should he expect Elessar to forgive him, when he had freely proclaimed himself a traitor?
The silence might have lasted minutes or hours, neither could tell. Finally the door opened and Ralisay came in.
"The king is awake and sends for you," he said to Sal. Sal stood and walked to the door.
"Fortune be with you," Bergil muttered as he passed. Sal sighed. He had lost fortune, both in the sense Bergil meant and in a sense far more important to Sal. The sword that had been a gift from the king was gone, and like the king's favour, Sal could never get it back. As Sal was led to the houses of healing, he thought of the events that had brought him to this point.
***
Two figures rode along the rode from Ithilien to Minas Tirith. The older of the two was King Elessar, and the other his personal guard, Salafir. Anyone who saw them would have been very surprised, but not because of who they were. It was well known that the king was returning from a visit to Ithilien, and Salafir was rarely away from his side in public. The surprising thing was that they were arguing.
"You can't blame me for us being late," Salafir was saying, "I was perfectly happy to keep travelling. It was you who insisted we wait out the rainstorm."
"I saw no reason to endure the storm when we had shelter and food."
"Obviously sleeping in a soft bed for so long has weakened you."
"I fear, Sal, that you have overstepped your mark."
"I thought the great King Elessar could not fear." Sal wondered if perhaps he had gone too far, but Elessar laughed. He was enjoying this as much as Sal. It was not often that they had the chance to be friends. If Sal acted this way in Minas Tirith he would be arrested instantly for such disrespect. When the reached Minas Tirith tomorrow, they would go back to being master and servant, restrained by duty and what was expected.
That was one of the reasons Elessar had chosen to make this journey with only Sal as his companion: because he wanted to enjoy the freedom this gave him. The other reason was that Ralisay had insisted it wasn't safe for the king to travel without his guards. Ralisay was one of the king's advisors, and seemed to be under the impression that he could never be wrong. When he was right his advice was invaluable, however that didn't make him any easier to put up with. Elessar was trying to cure him of his egocentric ways by showing that sometimes other ways worked just as well. So far it hadn't worked.
The two friends argued cheerfully. Arguing was something Elessar found never happened normally, everyone was too afraid of what he might do. It was something a person never missed until it was gone.
At last, as it was growing late, they stopped and prepared to set up camp on the edge of a wood where there was a good stream. Neither was particularly on guard, as they were safe within the realm of Gondor. This lands were well patrolled by the Rangers, and it was rare that there were attacks or thieving. Besides, those that were thieving were hardly likely to attack two strong, armed men.
They had barely dismounted when the attack began. Arrows flew from the trees, aimed more at the king than Sal. Sal drew fortune quickly, as men quickly followed the arrows from the trees. There were a lot of them, Sal couldn't easily count how many, all armed. Two charged at him together. Sal blocked a thrust from one, ducking the other's blow. He shoved his left elbow hard into one man's stomach, bringing fortune round to take the other's head off.
He glanced across at Elessar, to see him struggling to fight four men at once. Sal ran at once to his aid, striking one from behind. But there were far too many men. As Sal was trying to defend himself from several at once, he heard Elessar cry out in pain.
He spun to see what was happening, and that moment of distraction was all it took. Someone grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms to his side so he couldn't use fortune. Instead, Sal kicked the man on the shin. He heard a satisfactory yelp, and twisted in the man's arms, causing him to relax his grip. Sal broke free and swung fortune round, where it made contact with another man's sword. The sword flicked round with a twist Sal wasn't expecting, causing fortune to fly out of his hand.
This time when he was grabbed from behind, another came in front of him and shoved a damp cloth over his mouth and nose. A sickly, sweet smell filled his nostrils, and he tried not to inhale. But he couldn't help breathing in the vapours. Slowly, his limbs became heavy, and he struggled less against his attackers. With each breath it became harder to keep his eyes open. As he slumped forwards in a drugged sleep, the last thing he saw was the king lying still on the ground, blood staining the grass around him.
***
Author's note: I've started on the cliffhangers and it's only chapter one. This does not bode well for the rest of the story. Please review. You can say negative things if you like, as long as they're constructive enough to help me improve my writing style. But don't think that means you can't say nice things if you like. I'm always happy to be told people like my stories.
It's set after the War of the Ring, and this story is a few years after Fortune's Blade so it's now about ten years since Sauron was defeated.
King Elessar gave Salafir a sword called fortune, and a silver broach shaped like a tree. The broach is given to people who do something really important for Gondor or the king.
That's about it, if there's anything else I'll let you know later.
***
The two occupants of the small cell sat in silence. There wasn't anything to say. Sal and Bergil both sat, staring at the floor, chains around their wrists and ankles. Sal's thoughts were of the previous time he had been like this, but there was no hope this time. Why should he expect Elessar to forgive him, when he had freely proclaimed himself a traitor?
The silence might have lasted minutes or hours, neither could tell. Finally the door opened and Ralisay came in.
"The king is awake and sends for you," he said to Sal. Sal stood and walked to the door.
"Fortune be with you," Bergil muttered as he passed. Sal sighed. He had lost fortune, both in the sense Bergil meant and in a sense far more important to Sal. The sword that had been a gift from the king was gone, and like the king's favour, Sal could never get it back. As Sal was led to the houses of healing, he thought of the events that had brought him to this point.
***
Two figures rode along the rode from Ithilien to Minas Tirith. The older of the two was King Elessar, and the other his personal guard, Salafir. Anyone who saw them would have been very surprised, but not because of who they were. It was well known that the king was returning from a visit to Ithilien, and Salafir was rarely away from his side in public. The surprising thing was that they were arguing.
"You can't blame me for us being late," Salafir was saying, "I was perfectly happy to keep travelling. It was you who insisted we wait out the rainstorm."
"I saw no reason to endure the storm when we had shelter and food."
"Obviously sleeping in a soft bed for so long has weakened you."
"I fear, Sal, that you have overstepped your mark."
"I thought the great King Elessar could not fear." Sal wondered if perhaps he had gone too far, but Elessar laughed. He was enjoying this as much as Sal. It was not often that they had the chance to be friends. If Sal acted this way in Minas Tirith he would be arrested instantly for such disrespect. When the reached Minas Tirith tomorrow, they would go back to being master and servant, restrained by duty and what was expected.
That was one of the reasons Elessar had chosen to make this journey with only Sal as his companion: because he wanted to enjoy the freedom this gave him. The other reason was that Ralisay had insisted it wasn't safe for the king to travel without his guards. Ralisay was one of the king's advisors, and seemed to be under the impression that he could never be wrong. When he was right his advice was invaluable, however that didn't make him any easier to put up with. Elessar was trying to cure him of his egocentric ways by showing that sometimes other ways worked just as well. So far it hadn't worked.
The two friends argued cheerfully. Arguing was something Elessar found never happened normally, everyone was too afraid of what he might do. It was something a person never missed until it was gone.
At last, as it was growing late, they stopped and prepared to set up camp on the edge of a wood where there was a good stream. Neither was particularly on guard, as they were safe within the realm of Gondor. This lands were well patrolled by the Rangers, and it was rare that there were attacks or thieving. Besides, those that were thieving were hardly likely to attack two strong, armed men.
They had barely dismounted when the attack began. Arrows flew from the trees, aimed more at the king than Sal. Sal drew fortune quickly, as men quickly followed the arrows from the trees. There were a lot of them, Sal couldn't easily count how many, all armed. Two charged at him together. Sal blocked a thrust from one, ducking the other's blow. He shoved his left elbow hard into one man's stomach, bringing fortune round to take the other's head off.
He glanced across at Elessar, to see him struggling to fight four men at once. Sal ran at once to his aid, striking one from behind. But there were far too many men. As Sal was trying to defend himself from several at once, he heard Elessar cry out in pain.
He spun to see what was happening, and that moment of distraction was all it took. Someone grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms to his side so he couldn't use fortune. Instead, Sal kicked the man on the shin. He heard a satisfactory yelp, and twisted in the man's arms, causing him to relax his grip. Sal broke free and swung fortune round, where it made contact with another man's sword. The sword flicked round with a twist Sal wasn't expecting, causing fortune to fly out of his hand.
This time when he was grabbed from behind, another came in front of him and shoved a damp cloth over his mouth and nose. A sickly, sweet smell filled his nostrils, and he tried not to inhale. But he couldn't help breathing in the vapours. Slowly, his limbs became heavy, and he struggled less against his attackers. With each breath it became harder to keep his eyes open. As he slumped forwards in a drugged sleep, the last thing he saw was the king lying still on the ground, blood staining the grass around him.
***
Author's note: I've started on the cliffhangers and it's only chapter one. This does not bode well for the rest of the story. Please review. You can say negative things if you like, as long as they're constructive enough to help me improve my writing style. But don't think that means you can't say nice things if you like. I'm always happy to be told people like my stories.