Disclaimer: Lt. Calmacil, Tarfea, Dinanna, Nenlom, and Siriandil are mine, but nothing and no one else is.
CHAPTER FOUR
I guessed at first that I was dreaming again, for it felt as if I was lying on the same bier, and I heard someone weeping softly beside me. The voice sounded like my father's, although I had never known him to cry before, for the only person he would mourn over would be Boromir.
When that thought entered my mind, nothing could dispel it, and I was seized with panic. What if this wasn't a dream? What if after I was knocked over the head, Boromir was killed? No; he couldn't die. He would have fought and beaten my assailant.
Then again, it would have had to have been one of the wizards. Who else could sneak up on a ranger like that? And a wizard could have beaten Boromir with magic. But I was obviously wounded, so I soon felt myself drifting to sleep, and I knew then that I... wasn't... dreaming...
Standing by the bank of a river, I could hear the roaring sound of a great waterfall, but I could not see much, for there was a bluish-gray mist obscuring my vision. Though this was obviously unreal, I knew from my many previous trips to this spot- my personal place of solitude- that I was on the shores of the Great River near the base of the Rauros falls.
I peered into the gloom and watched a dark spot materialize before my gaze, floating down the Anduin. It turned out to be a canoe, which at first appeared empty. It was in my mind to wonder why it had not, at the very least, overturned coming down the falls, but more importantly why it did not crack at the bottom. So, my curiosity being aroused, I waded out to it, examining its elven design and marveling at the strange kind of wood from which it was formed. But when I reached it and looked inside, all such trivial thoughts flew from my mind.
Boromir! The Captain-General of the Gondorian army- unrivaled by any man in my mind or his- was lying there dead in the canoe, arrayed for a funeral by some unknown friend. Boromir... I searched his face for any sign of life; nonetheless all my hope had faded when I saw the arrow wounds in his chest. I clutched the side of the canoe so that it would not drift away from me and stared at my brother. I knew that he had died doing some noble deed, for his face was even more peaceful, more beautiful now than in life.
To have died within his own borders... So, that was indeed the Horn of Gondor we had heard from afar. But the horn itself, which had been passed down through generations of stewards from the days of Mardil the faithful, now lay split in two by Boromir's side. I picked up the pieces, wondering what kind of sword it was that had cleaved it, but in doing so, I let go the elven boat, and it floated away downstream. I myself stood in shock, but feeling the cold of the river, I eventually trudged to the bank and lay down in the dirt. I felt salty droplets of water stinging my face and sliding down my cheek until my heart itself was numb, and my eyes void of tears. I held tenderly the pieces of the horn; the last physical link to my beloved friend and kin.
I perceived someone shaking me gently. "Faramir," a voice called somewhere in the depths of reality, which I called myself back to then. Anborn it was; for he was the only person save Boromir who knew my place of retreat. He must have come looking for me.
Opening my eyes to face the ranger, I was instantly assaulted by a view of bright flowers, which seemed mocking to my sober mood. "What...?" was all I could manage to get out. I felt somewhat dazed, so I glanced around to take in my surroundings.
I was lying on my side in the palace gardens, where it turned out I had not moved from since I had fallen. "Boromir?" I asked of Anborn, who was kneeling beside me.
"Once he saw you were all right, he took off in that direction." As I sat up, he pointed in the general vicinity of the advisors' palace.
"He's not, um..." I trailed off, still disoriented, and for the first time in my life at a loss for even an intelligent thought. Anborn scrutinized me curiously. "I mean, besides a large bump on the back of his head, he's fine?"
"Yes. As you've obviously surmised, he was apparently knocked out by whoever- or whatever- got you, too."
"'Got' me?" I repeated contemptuously, now angry at myself for being caught off guard for the second time that day. I received only a sympathetic smile from Anborn. I mock-scowled at him with a disapproving air, but he was spared for at least that moment, for we were subsequently hailed by Damrod, the newest Ranger in our ranks. With him was Calmacil, who seemed rather reluctant to be there. "You find out the most interesting things," Damrod said, "when you take time to question people." He smirked triumphantly. "I know where Boromir is going..."
"The advisors' palace," I filled in for Anborn.
Damrod wasn't the least bit put out, however, and he resumed, "...and who attacked you."
"Well, I have three candidates: Tarfea, Dinanna, and Nenlom."
"None of the above," he said cheerily, altogether too pleased with himself.
"Siriandil," came a voice from one of the garden paths. Mablung, another of my more trusted rangers, rounded the corner, which put a dismayed look on Damrod's face.
"How did you find out?"
"Well, Faramir was just now naming advisors, and using my expert intuition, I deduced that it was really the creepiest of the bunch." I sighed. He was definitely one of the most light-hearted men I knew. "Seriously, that man sends chills down my spine whenever I see him."
"Let's forget Mablung and his intuition for a moment," I addressed everyone. "Damrod, how did you know that it was Siriandil? Did Calmacil tell you that?" At his nod, I turned my attention to the guard. "Were you spying on us after you delivered the note?"
"First, I went back to the person who told me to give it to you. Then he asked me to see what you were going to do about it, so I returned and saw Siriandil standing over your unconscious bodies. He left when he heard me, and I went back to report it to my lord when he came up," He pointed at Anborn. "and revived Boromir."
"Thank you; I know the rest from there." So, Siriandil wanted us out of the way, but for some reason did not want to kill us. Of course, it was not necessarily Siriandil. He was just standing over our bodies. There was still some unaccounted-for time between when Calmacil had arrived and when we were knocked out.
"Captain," Calmacil asked tentatively, "what are you planning to do?"
"I am going to find Boromir. Damrod, it is time for you to win your spurs, so the saying goes. You are to find out what Siriandil is up to. Anborn, find Mithrandir and bring him to the City. Mablung, watch for them, and when they come back, bring my father to the advisors' palace and the two of you find me."
As they dispersed, Lieutenant Calmacil asked tentatively, "And me?"
"You are coming with me." I motioned him to follow me as I ran towards the palace, and he complied wordlessly. "We can only hope," I said to my companion, "that Boromir has not found the wizards yet."
"Wizards?"
I glared at him. "Do not insult my intelligence. You know quite well who they are; probably better than I do.
He nodded reluctantly. "So, why did you send for Mithrandir and Lord Denethor?"
I mentally noted that he mentioned the wizard before his lord, but did not let it show. Rather, I answered his question. "A little intuition of my own. Something is going to happen soon; something that someone wanted certain people such as Boromir and myself out of the way for."
"That's... vague."
"That happens sometimes."
