One Last Kiss

Part 17

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Ariwen snatched the letter from Imrahil and swiftly perused it. Swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat, she re-read the message. It was written with a shaky hand, as if the sender was not familiar with his letters.

Prince Eldarion of Gondor:

Your father and steward lie dying in cell as I write this. Surrender now or I kill more, breed your women, and make slaves of your children. You warned now.

Vilak of Umbar

"Has my mother seen this yet?" Ariwen asked him once she regained her ability to speak clearly.

"Nay, lady. I thought to spare her the burden while she is with child. That leaves you, your sister, and the lady Éowyn to deal with this matter."

Ariwen nodded briskly in approval of his reasoning and strode out of the library, calling Dol Amroth's lord to follow her. "Come quickly. We have plans to make ere the sun sets this day."

Éowyn slammed her hands down on the council table in frustration. She and the others had taken it over to discuss the envoy sent by the Umbarrim, unbeknownst to the Queen or King's Counselors. "I cannot sift this riddle. Why would our enemy send us warnings, if he were as barbaric as his letters suggest? Why not just walk in and take Gondor? Our defenses have been weakening. He could take the southern shore on a whim!"

"Then mayhap he is not as barbaric as he would have us believe, and he does naught but bluff. He builds off of our fear of the south that has endured from the last days of the Third Age. Such tactics are not unheard of."

"But why?" Celewen spat out angrily.

No one had the means to answer her.

Aragorn's sharp ears picked up the soft 'thunk' of shoes on the dirt floor. He despaired, thinking it was a guard come to startle the two men into answering questions in the dead of the night. The door of the cell creaked steadily open just as Aragorn was arranging himself in a defensive position over the feverish Faramir.

"What do you want?" he hissed softly at the fast approaching figures.

"At ease, m'lord." Aragorn heard Elboron's gentle voice emerge from the darkness.

Thinking he was truly going mad from the captivity, he switched to Sindarin in desperation. "Elboron? Ná ta lle?" (Is it you?)

"Yes, m'lord. We have come to rescue you and my father. Come quickly. It will not be long before we are discovered. Eldarion alone guards the corridors. Uncle, wake my father."

"No, do not!" Aragorn whispered urgently. "He is feverish. It would not do to wake him. He might be delusional and cry out. Could you carry him, Éomer?"

Stealthily, the odd group left the cell just as padded feet were heard running towards them.

"Guards! Quickly! Out the armory and circle around to the boats." Eldarion could be heard frantically instructing them, all caution forgotten.

Aragorn whipped around in surprise, but his face soon lighted up in a grin. That was his son, commanding with such ease! The boy had been taught well, Aragorn thought with pride.

By the time, they reached the boats, there were no guards in sight, but nevertheless they rowed backed to the ship with vigil. Climbing aboard and hauling the ships up, Eldarion saw a man turn the corner into the place they hid the ship. More followed, and soon there was a whole group of soldiers on the banks, waving swords and shooting arrows at them, cursing in their own tongue.

"Let fly, lads!" Elchirion yelled as he dodged a well-aimed arrow. He smiled lightly as he ensured that there was nothing the King required. A great burden had just been lifted from his shoulders. They were going home, victorious.

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