Part Eight:
The everyday routine of evening chores in the stable yard was followed by dinner with Esiwmas in the small house he had acquired in the fourth circle. The boys, especially Estev, found the house tucked against the north face of Mount Mindolluin to be rather cold and cramped in comparison to the open rooms of the holding in Rohan. They did enjoy climbing the rocky path from the roof to the outer wall, but the narrow courtyard with its carefully tended patch of greenery would never be an adequate substitute for the wide meadows and open fields of the Deeping Stream.
The food however was certainly equal if not better.
A distant cousin, Sarantha, had come south to tend the household for Esiwmas. The ancient woman rose at dawn each day to haggle with every merchant from the fishmonger to the broom maker, proving that trading instincts ran through many branches of the family. But even more than the bargaining, the variety of foodstuffs available in the markets of Minas Tirith delighted her. The results were meals that, if perhaps not equal to hobbit cuisine, managed to appease even the extreme hunger of young boys.
Esiwmas harrumphed as Rolfe slipped a meat pastry beneath the table. The boy grinned an apology that proved completely insincere when a small slice of roast pork disappeared in the same manner.
"Father," said Estev slowly. He wanted very much to tell about the magnificence of the relic he had found, but hesitated because he knew his father disapproved of disturbing the peace of the dead. Finally, deciding that as he had been given leave to make up his own mind and always told that having engaged in a course of action a man should be proud enough to tell of his deeds, he blurted out, "We found something today. Something really important."
His father speared a bit of boiled potato and frowned momentarily, then nodded and said, "You did?"
While not the enthusiastic response of which Estev dreamed, it was better than a refusal to listen. Bobbing his head eagerly, the boy replied, "Yes, and I found it. We were just walking along picking up all these broken pieces of armor and stuff, and tossing them in the barrow. Rolfe kept throwing them so they landed almost on Ferlan's toes and made him jump every time. I kicked at some grass and saw this handle. So I got down to dig out the pieces. That's all we'd found so far, so I thought that's what it would be. But it wasn't, it was a whole knife! It's even got a serpent on it. Like the one on the banners the Southerners carry. You know?"
"Yes," replied Esiwmas wryly. He was quite familiar with the insignia of the Haradrim. It often haunted his dreams; but in the face of his son's enthusiasm, he would not say as much. "A whole blade. That is a unique find."
"I think one piece we found was part of a harness for a mûmak," Rolfe slipped another piece of pork to the canine at his feet before adding, "It looked a lot like one of the pictures in Master Gemthir's books."
"No," countered Estev. "It was on that map we were copying today. Down in the corner."
Esiwmas covered a grin with a large hand as the boys argued good naturedly. For all his complaining about wasted time, it appeared that Estev had managed to find some use for his lessons after all. If only the knowledge was to be put to a more honorable usage. This obsession the boy had with seeking out that which would be better left buried and lost was disturbing. But then, the trader supposed, his own youthful passions had disturbed his family no less.
The appearance of a bread pudding bursting with raisins brought the boys' debate and any discussion of their discovery to an abrupt end. Tolerant as she was about most masculine behaviors, Sarantha would not allow any talk of battles or armaments at the table, sternly insisting that the topic interfered with her digestion.
Not until the boys bid Esiwmas 'good night' and climbed the stairs to their small corner room did Estev speak again of the blade, though it had gleamed in his thoughts throughout the evening.
"Where did you put it?" he asked toeing off his boots and kicking them under the bed.
Voice muffled by the shirt half over his head, Rolfe answered, "It's in the chest. Why?"
"I just wondered."
Estev reached across his bed and pushed open the narrow window. Far below lay the shadowed fields of the Pelennor. Once, the fires of the armies of Mordor had blazed there; now, only the scattered lights of farmsteads glowed in the night.
Suddenly, he wondered what his mother was doing back in the Mark. Was she sitting in her chair with a basket of sewing or was she singing his little brother to sleep? Estev jerked off his shirt and tossed it aside telling himself he was far too old to be such a baby. A furry head nudged his hand, and he knelt down to bury his face in Jesse's neck. When a warm wet tongue licked his ear, he laughed and pushed the dog's head aside.
"Stop that, I already washed behind my ears."
Jesse wiggled happily and licked his nose.
"And my nose too."
Scratching behind the dog's ears, Estev sat on the cool stone floor and counted the days until they would leave for home. There was a holiday, Tuilérë, set for the end of this month, and he knew his father planned to return to the Mark shortly after that to spend most of the summer at home. Esdav and Rolfe would be the ones to accompany him back to the White City in the fall.
"We've only got two weeks. You think we can finish?"
Already under his blanket, Rolfe rolled onto his side and stretched one arm over the edge of his bed and gave Dog a pat. As the dog licked his dangling fingers, he studied Estev with solemn brown eyes.
"Clearing the rubbish won't take that long."
"No," Estev responded slowly. "But ..."
"Even if we have to dig a bit." Rolfe yawned. "Tell you what, we'll go down to the stables before breakfast tomorrow and get Martham to give us our chores then. That way we can go straight to the fields after Master Gemthir's lessons."
Nodding eagerly, Estev said, "If we can catch Sarantha before she goes to the market, she'll fix us up some food." He rubbed soft ears fondly. "Take Ferlan a treat to make up for the lunch he gave Jesse."
"Good idea. Now, put out the light and let's get some sleep. Dog will wake us up, won't you, boy?"
A deep throated woof was the animal's reply as Estev stood and blew out the small lamp. Climbing into bed, the boy curled on his side to gaze at the slit of black sky dotted with stars.
"Rolfe..."
"What?"
"Do you think there's anything else out there?"
"If there is, we'll find it." Rolfe pulled the blankets over his head and tucked his hand beneath his pillow. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Estev repeated.
From the moment, he had seen that golden medallion gleaming in Ferlan's palm he had wanted to find something important. But now that he had, it didn't seem enough. The knife was not really his. Share and share alike, that is what they had agreed on. But why shouldn't he get to keep it? Why shouldn't he be the one to carry it? After all, he had found it.
"A man who can not keep his word is one who can never be trusted."
Estev's eyes sprang open and he expected to see the tall form of his father silhouetted beside the bed. But no, it was only his father's words resounding in his mind. Of course, he would never keep the blade for himself. He could be trusted to keep his word. Pulling his blankets tighter, the boy assured himself that it was just a wild thought that would never become reality. He would never do such a thing.
Jesse whimpered softly. It was dark, the time for sleep. His boy had curled beneath the coverings the two legs used instead of fur, but he did not sleep. Instead he lay with open eyes staring at the darkness. Many days had gone by since Jesse had a boy, but he had not forgotten what to do. Cautiously, he crept onto the bed and lay his head on Estev's chest.
A long moment passed, then the boy relaxed beneath the weight. Slowly his fingers moved up to run gently down the furry back.
"Good dog, Jesse, good dog."
The everyday routine of evening chores in the stable yard was followed by dinner with Esiwmas in the small house he had acquired in the fourth circle. The boys, especially Estev, found the house tucked against the north face of Mount Mindolluin to be rather cold and cramped in comparison to the open rooms of the holding in Rohan. They did enjoy climbing the rocky path from the roof to the outer wall, but the narrow courtyard with its carefully tended patch of greenery would never be an adequate substitute for the wide meadows and open fields of the Deeping Stream.
The food however was certainly equal if not better.
A distant cousin, Sarantha, had come south to tend the household for Esiwmas. The ancient woman rose at dawn each day to haggle with every merchant from the fishmonger to the broom maker, proving that trading instincts ran through many branches of the family. But even more than the bargaining, the variety of foodstuffs available in the markets of Minas Tirith delighted her. The results were meals that, if perhaps not equal to hobbit cuisine, managed to appease even the extreme hunger of young boys.
Esiwmas harrumphed as Rolfe slipped a meat pastry beneath the table. The boy grinned an apology that proved completely insincere when a small slice of roast pork disappeared in the same manner.
"Father," said Estev slowly. He wanted very much to tell about the magnificence of the relic he had found, but hesitated because he knew his father disapproved of disturbing the peace of the dead. Finally, deciding that as he had been given leave to make up his own mind and always told that having engaged in a course of action a man should be proud enough to tell of his deeds, he blurted out, "We found something today. Something really important."
His father speared a bit of boiled potato and frowned momentarily, then nodded and said, "You did?"
While not the enthusiastic response of which Estev dreamed, it was better than a refusal to listen. Bobbing his head eagerly, the boy replied, "Yes, and I found it. We were just walking along picking up all these broken pieces of armor and stuff, and tossing them in the barrow. Rolfe kept throwing them so they landed almost on Ferlan's toes and made him jump every time. I kicked at some grass and saw this handle. So I got down to dig out the pieces. That's all we'd found so far, so I thought that's what it would be. But it wasn't, it was a whole knife! It's even got a serpent on it. Like the one on the banners the Southerners carry. You know?"
"Yes," replied Esiwmas wryly. He was quite familiar with the insignia of the Haradrim. It often haunted his dreams; but in the face of his son's enthusiasm, he would not say as much. "A whole blade. That is a unique find."
"I think one piece we found was part of a harness for a mûmak," Rolfe slipped another piece of pork to the canine at his feet before adding, "It looked a lot like one of the pictures in Master Gemthir's books."
"No," countered Estev. "It was on that map we were copying today. Down in the corner."
Esiwmas covered a grin with a large hand as the boys argued good naturedly. For all his complaining about wasted time, it appeared that Estev had managed to find some use for his lessons after all. If only the knowledge was to be put to a more honorable usage. This obsession the boy had with seeking out that which would be better left buried and lost was disturbing. But then, the trader supposed, his own youthful passions had disturbed his family no less.
The appearance of a bread pudding bursting with raisins brought the boys' debate and any discussion of their discovery to an abrupt end. Tolerant as she was about most masculine behaviors, Sarantha would not allow any talk of battles or armaments at the table, sternly insisting that the topic interfered with her digestion.
Not until the boys bid Esiwmas 'good night' and climbed the stairs to their small corner room did Estev speak again of the blade, though it had gleamed in his thoughts throughout the evening.
"Where did you put it?" he asked toeing off his boots and kicking them under the bed.
Voice muffled by the shirt half over his head, Rolfe answered, "It's in the chest. Why?"
"I just wondered."
Estev reached across his bed and pushed open the narrow window. Far below lay the shadowed fields of the Pelennor. Once, the fires of the armies of Mordor had blazed there; now, only the scattered lights of farmsteads glowed in the night.
Suddenly, he wondered what his mother was doing back in the Mark. Was she sitting in her chair with a basket of sewing or was she singing his little brother to sleep? Estev jerked off his shirt and tossed it aside telling himself he was far too old to be such a baby. A furry head nudged his hand, and he knelt down to bury his face in Jesse's neck. When a warm wet tongue licked his ear, he laughed and pushed the dog's head aside.
"Stop that, I already washed behind my ears."
Jesse wiggled happily and licked his nose.
"And my nose too."
Scratching behind the dog's ears, Estev sat on the cool stone floor and counted the days until they would leave for home. There was a holiday, Tuilérë, set for the end of this month, and he knew his father planned to return to the Mark shortly after that to spend most of the summer at home. Esdav and Rolfe would be the ones to accompany him back to the White City in the fall.
"We've only got two weeks. You think we can finish?"
Already under his blanket, Rolfe rolled onto his side and stretched one arm over the edge of his bed and gave Dog a pat. As the dog licked his dangling fingers, he studied Estev with solemn brown eyes.
"Clearing the rubbish won't take that long."
"No," Estev responded slowly. "But ..."
"Even if we have to dig a bit." Rolfe yawned. "Tell you what, we'll go down to the stables before breakfast tomorrow and get Martham to give us our chores then. That way we can go straight to the fields after Master Gemthir's lessons."
Nodding eagerly, Estev said, "If we can catch Sarantha before she goes to the market, she'll fix us up some food." He rubbed soft ears fondly. "Take Ferlan a treat to make up for the lunch he gave Jesse."
"Good idea. Now, put out the light and let's get some sleep. Dog will wake us up, won't you, boy?"
A deep throated woof was the animal's reply as Estev stood and blew out the small lamp. Climbing into bed, the boy curled on his side to gaze at the slit of black sky dotted with stars.
"Rolfe..."
"What?"
"Do you think there's anything else out there?"
"If there is, we'll find it." Rolfe pulled the blankets over his head and tucked his hand beneath his pillow. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Estev repeated.
From the moment, he had seen that golden medallion gleaming in Ferlan's palm he had wanted to find something important. But now that he had, it didn't seem enough. The knife was not really his. Share and share alike, that is what they had agreed on. But why shouldn't he get to keep it? Why shouldn't he be the one to carry it? After all, he had found it.
"A man who can not keep his word is one who can never be trusted."
Estev's eyes sprang open and he expected to see the tall form of his father silhouetted beside the bed. But no, it was only his father's words resounding in his mind. Of course, he would never keep the blade for himself. He could be trusted to keep his word. Pulling his blankets tighter, the boy assured himself that it was just a wild thought that would never become reality. He would never do such a thing.
Jesse whimpered softly. It was dark, the time for sleep. His boy had curled beneath the coverings the two legs used instead of fur, but he did not sleep. Instead he lay with open eyes staring at the darkness. Many days had gone by since Jesse had a boy, but he had not forgotten what to do. Cautiously, he crept onto the bed and lay his head on Estev's chest.
A long moment passed, then the boy relaxed beneath the weight. Slowly his fingers moved up to run gently down the furry back.
"Good dog, Jesse, good dog."