"The battles go well, Lord Steward," Captain Faramir said. He had held his position as Captain for several months, and there was still no sign of Boromir's return. He had to make due with what he had. "We have only lost two men in our stealth combat, and few orcs come near Ithilien anymore."
"Have you checked the roads?" asked Denethor.
"No, sir, but-"
"Why not? This is a huge oversight! Every day those roads are undefended more forces of evil can reach Mordor."
"I am mounting an expedition into that area as we speak." said Faramir. "I have been busy securing our defenses."
"What good will our defenses be if there are too many of our enemies? I suggest you leave with your best men soon. Leave my presense."
As Faramir turned to leave, he heard the most horrible of sounds: it was the echo of the Horn of Gondor reaching Minas Tirith. He rushed outside, desperately trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. Beregond and some of the other Guards had heard it as well.
"It came from the North," said Beregond. "Perhaps it is Boromir announcing his return to Minas Tirith!"
"If he was announcing his return to Minas Tirith, he would not use the Horn of Gondor." said Faramir, trying desperately to be strong and not show his emotions. "But if he is returning, we must send out a welcome party. I will gather a group of men to find him."
***
When the men returned, it was not with Boromir. His body was nowhere to be found, but two men had found shards of the Horn of Gondor, the heirloom of the Stewards. Faramir had the sad duty of returning the Horn of Gondor to Denethor.
Denethor held the broken shards of Boromir's horn and began to sob. When he could speak, he glared at Faramir.
"This is your fault!" he cried. "You and your ridiculous dream! Now the house of the Stewards will die out, and Gondor will fall."
"There is still a chance for Gondor to be saved," Faramir said. "Boromir would not have us lose hope at a time like this."
"Boromir is dead," Denethor stated. "He should have died in honor, falling like the proud captain he was. He should have had his friends defend him until either they died or the orcs that killed him were defeated. He should have been buried in honor. But he will have none of thes e honors, thanks to you."
Faramir could not control his tears anymore.
"So now you feel sorrow?" Denethor asked. "Now you are pained by this? Get out of my sight. Leave this city, until you have secured the roads and Mordor's forces are defeated at last. Then, if you live, you may return."
***
If Faramir had seen the look of sorrow on the faces of his people as he left, if he knew that they were mourning him as well as his brother, and if he had seen the flashes of light from the tower of Ecthelion, perhaps he would have felt differently. As it was, he could only remember the broken Horn of Gondor on the lap of the Steward.
"Have you checked the roads?" asked Denethor.
"No, sir, but-"
"Why not? This is a huge oversight! Every day those roads are undefended more forces of evil can reach Mordor."
"I am mounting an expedition into that area as we speak." said Faramir. "I have been busy securing our defenses."
"What good will our defenses be if there are too many of our enemies? I suggest you leave with your best men soon. Leave my presense."
As Faramir turned to leave, he heard the most horrible of sounds: it was the echo of the Horn of Gondor reaching Minas Tirith. He rushed outside, desperately trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. Beregond and some of the other Guards had heard it as well.
"It came from the North," said Beregond. "Perhaps it is Boromir announcing his return to Minas Tirith!"
"If he was announcing his return to Minas Tirith, he would not use the Horn of Gondor." said Faramir, trying desperately to be strong and not show his emotions. "But if he is returning, we must send out a welcome party. I will gather a group of men to find him."
***
When the men returned, it was not with Boromir. His body was nowhere to be found, but two men had found shards of the Horn of Gondor, the heirloom of the Stewards. Faramir had the sad duty of returning the Horn of Gondor to Denethor.
Denethor held the broken shards of Boromir's horn and began to sob. When he could speak, he glared at Faramir.
"This is your fault!" he cried. "You and your ridiculous dream! Now the house of the Stewards will die out, and Gondor will fall."
"There is still a chance for Gondor to be saved," Faramir said. "Boromir would not have us lose hope at a time like this."
"Boromir is dead," Denethor stated. "He should have died in honor, falling like the proud captain he was. He should have had his friends defend him until either they died or the orcs that killed him were defeated. He should have been buried in honor. But he will have none of thes e honors, thanks to you."
Faramir could not control his tears anymore.
"So now you feel sorrow?" Denethor asked. "Now you are pained by this? Get out of my sight. Leave this city, until you have secured the roads and Mordor's forces are defeated at last. Then, if you live, you may return."
***
If Faramir had seen the look of sorrow on the faces of his people as he left, if he knew that they were mourning him as well as his brother, and if he had seen the flashes of light from the tower of Ecthelion, perhaps he would have felt differently. As it was, he could only remember the broken Horn of Gondor on the lap of the Steward.