6
The next two days passed without noticeable incident, until the morning of the fourth day. Aragorn had slept some in the boat the day before, and so he stayed up that night, guiding us down the River while I slept in the bows.
I awoke early and found my face pressed against the wooden edge of the boat. I lifted it up, blinked, and turned my eyes down-river. Then I blinked again.
A ship was sailing right up the water towards us, a great tall ship with a spray of water coming up from the prow. Though still distant, I could make out an actual tower, looking almost like stone, standing up from the front of the ship; the flag of Gondor flew from the summit. But there was no mast, no sails, no oars; and the ship didn't seem to be getting closer any faster than the countryside.
My sleepy brain pulled itself together and made sense out of what I was seeing. Of course-- that was Cair Andros itself, an easily-defended and powerful fortress set right in the middle of the Anduin. Aragorn noticed me return to wakefulness.
"Yes, we have reached Cair Andros. I stopped as soon as I could see it, last night, and checked to see what flag it flew; as you can see, it is indeed still held by your people. Fortunately so, for our supplies could use replenishment, and we need news even more than food."
"I don't know how much news we will receive," I replied. "Cair Andros is not exactly one of our nearest outposts; we do not check up on it as often as we would like. Supplies I doubt not, but information is likely to be antiquated."
"We shall see," Aragorn answered cooly. Just then a guard noticed us, in our Elvish boat, and we heard his clear voice from the tower.
"What are you? Declare yourselves, or we will be forced to fire on you!"
"I am a friend," I called back. "I am Boromir, your Captain! With me is Aragorn, a Ranger of the North."
A moment of silence, during which I suppose the guard peered at us closer, then, "My lord Boromir! How honored we are to receive you! But how come you and your companion on such a path, and in such a vessel? Is that not Elvish work?"
"It is indeed," I responded, somewhat miffed that the guard should know anything about Elves when I had been so ignorant. "Is there a landing on the island where we may beach our boat?"
"Yes, there is a dock on the larboard side. That is-- on your right, m'lord."
Aragorn guided the boat over close to the western shore of the Anduin. I turned and fixed his gaze.
"How shall I introduce you, Aragorn? Do you wish me to make your lineage known, or would you prefer to do it yourself?"
"Neither," he replied promptly. "I would rather the news of my identity reached Minas Tirith with me, rather than a messenger sent before to worry your father." I was slightly confused by this: why not get a messenger, to have a proper welcome? Then I remembered the... conversation, almost, I'd had with myself that night. Father might indeed prepare a welcome for Aragorn-- a strong guard or two and an available cell. I shuddered at the thought. I was really not looking forward to Father and Aragorn's meeting.
Now the mighty rock of Cair Andros reared up just to our left as the River split and flowed on to the Sea. If I recalled history correctly, the fortress once covered the whole island, and a small but lively town within its walls had made it nearly a little Minas Tirith of the North. In these days, however, trade had slowed to a slow drip, and the townsmen had died of the Plague or returned to safer, more fertile lands.
The great fortress, although well-built enough to resist falling into disrepair for a long Age yet, was now all but abandoned. The one time I had visited, making the rounds with Father when he still left Minas Tirith regularly, the guards manned only the upriver tower. Years ago, when Cair Andros was still an important and valuable asset, that tower had been merely the diplomacy area, with a richly decorated room for receiving guests and many functionless chambers. Now, the storerooms and armories and even forges of the other areas were forgotten, and the ambassador's rooms filled their place. Overall, a somewhat dreary reminder of our slow fading. That contributed to Cair Andros' unpopularity as a post.
Aragorn guided the boat near the rushing stones, keeping near enough to be ready to duck into the little harbor somewhere along this side. I held my oar ready to fend us off if we slipped too close to the rocks, but Aragorn's skill kept us at a safe distance. The rocks, when I could take a moment to look closer, appeared to all be worked stones even down below the water's edge; rather than a fortress built on the island, it was an island turned into a fortress.
A spur of rock reached out ahead of us, and I gripped my oar in preparation for a quick push, but we found the spur to be the breakwater for the harbor on its back side. After passing around it, we found a calm bay with steep walls and a wooden pier around the entire interior perimeter; a small guard of honor had already assembled at the gateway into the castle proper.
Aragorn slipped the boat up to the pier and backpedaled perfectly to bring us to an exact stop. I grimaced slightly at another demonstration of proficiency and threw a short rope to the man waiting to tie us up.
He caught the rope and quickly knotted us into place, grinning at me the whole time like a boy playing at soldier. I gave him the commanding eye and he subsided, but I knew he would readily become my shadow as long as I was in Cair Andros. He was not the first; he would not be the last.
The captain of the fortress stepped forward as soon as Aragorn and I had extricated ourselves from the boat. The Ranger stood back behind me, head bowed slightly in deference. The captain threw back his hood and revealed:
"Mablung!" I exclaimed, smiling. "How are you, my old friend? I thought you were still in Osgiliath, with my brother?" Grinning back, he shook his head.
"No sir, I was sent here as a messenger. However, the acting captain was lower rank than I, so I was in command for as long as I remained here." He beckoned to Aragorn and the others, and our little group followed him through the low arch and into a smooth tunnel, him still talking.
"I had planned to leave this afternoon, return to Minas Tirith to deliver news to the Steward and then take my new orders. But now, of course, I don't need to go to the Citadel to get orders." He paused in his talking and watched me expectantly.
I took several more paces before responding. "You knew of my mission, Mablung?" He nodded brusquely.
"Yes sir, but not of what it entailed exactly. Rivendell? The Sword-That-Was-Broken? Something of that sort."
"Correct. So now that I have returned I need to go directly to Minas Tirith. Father will want to know the whole story of my journey there and back, and above all I want to see Faramir again." Mablung nodded again; now we had passed out of the tunnel and stood in a sloping courtyard, under the shadow of the north tower.
"And your orders for us, for me?" Mablung asked.
I looked around the courtyard. Only four soldiers caught my eye, but they had been arranged as efficiently as I ever could have: three towards the Black Land, one toward home. Several of the doors looked only a few days old, freshly hewn wood, and they were all carefully closed and locked. Now that we had ceased talking I could hear a rhythmic metallic pounding, from what I assumed was the blacksmith. I shrugged.
"Carry on, captain. I see nothing you are remiss in, you can return to Minas Tirith as you planned; in fact, I expect you to return with me." Mablung nodded and murmured the required pleasantries about being honored and etc. Then he caught my eye and gave me a questioning twitch of the head towards Aragorn. The Ranger had remained just within the tunnel entrance, scanning the courtyard and the walls with the same silent intensity I had come to expect from him. I shrugged again.
"That is Aragorn, a Ranger of the North-- the Rangers are the last remnants of the Arnorians," I added, seeing Mablung's pretending-to-understand-but-actually-lost look.
"He rides with us, then?"
"Yes, he has offered his sword in defense of Minas Tirith and our people. His fighting skill and leadership abilities are quite impressive, from what I saw on my journey with him; I would rather bring him to Father and give him a command in the army than set him as a recruit somewhere. I'm sure that Father would make him a captain at least if he met him."
Mablung shrugged slightly, then waved to the other soldiers. They nodded as one and split up to their previous duties, all except the one admirer: he stood right where he was before, vaguely grinning at me.
"Do you want to come inside and learn more news of the times?" Mablung continued, including Aragorn with a tilt of the head. "Lunch, such as it is, should be served in a few hours at midday. I am sure we can fill the time between now and then with tales." We nodded and he set off for a set of double doors nearby, us following. Aragorn fell into step with me, but a few paces back; almost like a dog heeling. I didn't need to look to know my new shadow was heeling Aragorn.
Mablung shoved the doors open and we strode in. I looked around and realized this must have been the ambassadorial hall: the arms of every king, even back to Elros (!!GET RIGHT NAME!!), hung around the walls; the mighty roof beams suspended an elaborate chandelier; the stone floor appeared to have been until recently covered by a carpet-- I could only imagine how much a carpet this size would have cost.
But now torch brackets had been rudely fixed into the walls and the carpet stored elsewhere; weaponry stood in the corners, foodstuffs were stored in the fireplaces on the left, and half-a-dozen oaken tables crouched defensively in the middle of the great space. I counted at most 20 men sitting there, with another 20-odd engaged in various activities around the room. Mablung felt my disappointment, I could see it in the hunch of his shoulders: such a small force in such a mighty fortress!
I tugged my shield strap tighter and followed Mablung to the head of the nearest table. What little talk there had been suddenly ceased as the men turned towards us, and I felt rather than saw Aragorn stiffen slightly behind me. Then,
"Boromir!" they shouted as one. The mood palpably changed: their lord had arrived, it was time to put a good face on a poor situation. I grinned back.
"Soldiers of Gondor!" I cried. "A welcome sight!" Several of those present rose and bowed slightly, and I recognized them from Osgiliath. I stepped forward and greeted them by name, asked after their wounds and comrades, spoke to the others. It truly warmed my heart to see their plain joy in meeting me, but also reminded me uncomfortably of how used I was to the trappings of a prince. So after a few minutes I finished the conversations and stepped back to Mablung and Aragorn, then took my place at a separate table.