8. Those Who Are Called

Until today, Canohando would have said that all his desire was fulfilled. Morning till night he followed on the Queen's footsteps, and she smiled on him and talked with him a little. He basked in her presence like a plant in sunshine, asking only that her light fall upon him. But young Miko's trusting confidence had torn open the old wound, his childlessness, and today he watched his Lady with aching heart, craving some balm for his pain.

That was perhaps why he saw her suffering, where before he had been unaware. Elladan and Elrohir sat talking to her in low voices that did not carry to his end of the room, and their faces were solemn, but Arwen's eyes were like bruises in her face, and Canohando was shocked out of his own sorrow by fear for her.

After a while the twins embraced their sister and withdrew, and for the moment she was alone. Canohando went to her, his heavy boots quiet on the velvet carpet, and knelt before her.

"Lady, what has happened? Who has brought grief to you - tell me, and they will never again come near you, I swear it!"

Arwen gave a soft laugh that was almost a sob. "You would have to separate me from myself, Canohando, for I brought my grief down upon my own head. I bought a great treasure once, at a heavy price, but only now do I feel the weight of what I must pay. Take care, dear one, of the bargains you make when you are young - but there, you are not young, are you?"

She looked at him as if only now did she truly see him. His hair was dead black with no trace of silver, his face coarse-featured but unlined. He was broad in the shoulders and thick-muscled, but for all that he was lithe as a cat.

"How old are you?" she asked suddenly, and he shrugged.

"Orcs keep no count of years, Lady. I was old enough to go to war, when the Witch King came to Mordor."

She put a hand to his cheek. "You are of the First-born, then, and it is our doom to watch those we love pass too swiftly out of this world. You gave your heart to Frodo, and he is gone – and soon my beloved also –" She shivered, curling in upon herself with her arms around her body, as if to hold in the sorrow that threatened to rip her apart.

"Lady –" The Orc knelt at her feet in anguish, racking his mind for something he could do. Here was no enemy for his sword, and he dared not embrace her to offer comfort. At last he bowed to the floor, kissing both her feet in turn before he rose. "Stay here, Lady, please stay! I will get the King –"

"No!" she exclaimed, but Canohando was already gone.

He found Elessar in the Throne Room with a couple of visitors. He understood the proper protocol now, and spoke first to Florian, at the door, chafing at the delay. The Chamberlain would have put him off, saying the guests with the King were too important to be interrupted, but the Orc bent a look on him so fierce that the little man stepped back in alarm.

"The Queen needs him! If you will not bring me forward, I will go without your leave."

Florian settled his chain of office more becomingly across his chest, looking down his nose. "Very well then, come along – and it is on your own head, Orc, if the King be angered at your want of manners!"

Canohando took the man by one elbow and hurried him the length of the Hall at a pace quite unsuited to the Chamberlain's dignity. Elessar saw them coming and broke off his conversation with the visitors. An Elf and a Dwarf, Canohando noticed in passing, thinking it was odd they should be together and then forgetting all about them.

"She needs you, King of Gondor," he said. "She is in distress."

"In her Bower?" Elessar asked. "I will go to her. Stay here, Canohando, and tell these guests about your brother." He turned on his heel and was gone with a swirl of his short cloak, and Canohando stared after him, wanting to follow but knowing he had better not.

"His brother, is it?" said a gruff voice at his shoulder. "Is one Orc running tame in Minas Tirith not enough, but he must have a brother as well?"

There was a quiet laugh from his companion, and Canohando dragged his eyes away from the empty doorway where the King had disappeared, to look at the visitors he had been charged with.

"Aragorn was always broad-minded in his choice of friends, Gimli. Come then, Orc, let us find someplace to sit down, and perhaps you will call for a jug of wine for a pair of weary travelers, before you tell us about your family."

The Elf was tall, slender and elegant with a young face, but he had the eyes of one who has seen many years and many battles, and Canohando fought back the urge to kneel to him as he did to Arwen. The Dwarf was shorter than the Orc but twice his girth, and he carried a battle axe at his belt. He glowered at Canohando.

"Wine for the Elf, and beer for me. Where are we going, Orc?"

Canohando led them out into the courtyard of the White Tree, stopping at the door to tell Florian to have refreshment brought to them. The Chamberlain brushed him away officiously. "Yes, yes, I know what must be done; I do not need a grey Orc out of Mordor to teach me my duties! Go and entertain them, since the King commanded it, and leave me in peace."

Canohando grimaced, wishing he were free to return to the Queen. The King will care for her, you fool, better than a grey Orc out of Mordor! he berated himself. He brought the Elf and the Dwarf to chairs that stood always in the shade of the Tree, but he himself sat down on the grass with his hands flat against the ground. The touch of the living earth steadied him and brought him comfort, and then he remembered the Jewel around his neck. Living daily in the Lady's presence as he did, he seldom fingered it anymore, but now he rubbed it against his lips as he looked up at these oddly paired visitors.

The Dwarf reached out and caught his wrist in a hand of steel, his face inches away. "Where did you get that?" he demanded, angry and suspicious. "The last time I saw that gem, it hung at Frodo Baggins' throat; how did it come to yours?"

The Elf had half-risen. "Slowly, Gimli, let him answer! There is some mystery here I would be glad to see unraveled."

Canohando had stiffened when the Dwarf grabbed his wrist, his other hand coming up without his volition nearly to Gimli's shoulder before he recollected himself and pulled it back. He could bring down this bloated ox easily; it only needed a sure touch near the back of the Dwarf's neck – no, he thought, I am the Queen's Shadow, and this creature is no threat to her–

"Frodo Ninefingers gave the jewel to me," he said evenly. "My brother, my Light-bearer."

Gimli grunted and dropped the gem, sitting back. "You had better explain yourself, Orc."

But they sat enthralled, both of them, while Canohando told the story. Servants came with wine and ale, small hot breads and smoked salmon sliced thin and balls of sweet butter, and the Elf and the Dwarf ate absent-mindedly, captivated by the scenes the Orc painted for them with his words.

Listening to him, they forgot of what race he sprang. He grew eloquent when he spoke of his runt, and they could almost see Frodo with the starglass in his hand, facing down the soldiers of Gondor who would have slain the Orcs – Frodo on the tower, pledging himself to stand with Canohando against the Dark – Frodo with the bow Lash carved for him, hunting in the mountains.

"We became brothers," Canohando finished at last, holding his hand palm up for them to see. The Elf reached out and clasped the rough-skinned hand in his smooth one.

"I am Legolas Greenleaf, one of the Ring-bearer's companions on the Quest. I had believed I knew the hobbit, but you have shown me that there was even more to him than I knew. I am glad to have met you, Frodo's Brother."

"And I also," Gimli rumbled. He cleared his throat. "I would have sworn I would never strike hands with any Orc except in battle, but if you are Frodo's brother – and I see that you are – then Gimli is your friend." He caught Canohando's wrist again, but it was a salute this time, and the orc returned it. "And he gave that jewel to you," the Dwarf marveled. "He did not want me to so much as touch it – he must have loved you indeed!"

Canohando looked for Miko every day when he went to the kitchens, but he did not see the child. Finally he asked about him, and Miko's grandfather looked uncomfortable.

"His mother will not let him come, my fool daughter-in-law! She is afraid of you. I'm sorry."

I should have expected that, the Orc thought, but truth he had not. He took his meat and sat down to eat without answering. The roast mutton had smelled savory when he first came in, but now it was tasteless and dry in his mouth. He tore at it anyway, cracking the bones with his teeth when he was done and sucking out the marrow. Food was life; an Orc did not refuse food, not even when his chest hurt as if he had been beaten with the butt end of a spear.

The man was still talking. "Miko was disappointed; he tried to talk her round, but she would not listen. His father died in the last war, when the lad was a babe in arms – his mother thinks he is still a babe." There was anger in Joram's voice, and Canohando regarded him curiously. Why was the man angry?

For a moment their eyes met; then Joram looked away. As if he had read the Orc's mind, he said, "The lad likes you, and it would be a good thing for him, if you taught him to shoot. His mother mollycoddles him, and he is too much with women."

Canohando grunted and reached for his tankard of ale. "Teach him yourself," he said. He took a long draught and added, "He is a brave cub. I would have liked teaching him."

He handed the empty mug to Joram and left the kitchens. When he got back upstairs, he found the Queen and Elessar both in her Bower, and her brothers and Eldarion with them. The Orc slouched against the wall by the door, picking his teeth with his fingernail and wondering if he would run into Miko out in the courtyard sometime, but the King beckoned him over.

"This concerns you, Queen's Shadow; you had better hear it."

He went to stand by Arwen; she was sitting very straight in her chair, pale as starlight, her chin high. "I shall be making a journey, Canohando. In a month, perhaps; that is up to the King." She cast a burning glance at Elessar, entreaty and grief and frustration all in one, and Canohando reflected that there seemed to be no peace in the Palace this day, in his own heart or anywhere else.

"Lady Evenstar," the King said, as if he called her back from the edge of something. He turned to the Orc. "Canohando, I am mortal. To all men there comes an end at last, and my own end draws near. The Queen will not remain in Gondor after my passing, by her own desire..."

"I will go to the Golden Wood," Arwen interrupted. "Under the mallorns I will abide the Doom of Men, in the land where I was young. Gondor I have loved for your sake, my Estel, but Lothlorien is my home."

Eldarion looked pained, moving to put an arm around her, and she leaned against his shoulder. "Mother, will you not stay and be our Evenstar, even to the last? I cannot leave Minas Tirith within a month of my crowning, yet my heart is sore to think of you alone so far away, under the fading trees! You have heard my uncles: Lorien is no more the land you knew; even the mallorns are dying."

She reached up to clasp his hand. "The final glory of an Age is dying, my son. The last of the Numenoreans, your father… the mallorns are fading, and the remnant of my people who remain are passing into the West, following the Call now at the very end. It is your Age now, the Age of Man's Dominion. You will be the first King of the new era, and certainly you cannot abandon the Citadel of your Kingdom! And what would it avail if you went with me? I have made Luthien's choice, and I will not repent of it. I go to the Golden Wood only to take my leave."

"It is a long road." The King's voice was somber. "Long, and not without some danger: Fangorn Forest lies by the way, and Elrohir tells me there are a few bands of Orcs still in the mountains, north of the Limlight. They may raid down into the plains from time to time."

Canohando stood listening, only half comprehending; he had never heard of Luthien, but the King would die soon, he understood that much, and the Queen wished to go to Lothlorien. He spoke up. "King of Gondor, give me only a guide who knows the way, and twenty Guardsmen who will stand with me at need - I will bring the Lady safe to Lorien, or may Vengeance take me!"

He did not step back from the look Elessar leveled on him. "She will come safe to the Golden Wood, lord: I swear it!"

The Orc stood a head shorter than anyone else in the room, but nobody smiled. Eldarion and the Queen's brothers had not seen him in action, but they had heard the tale; looking at him now, they could well believe he would be formidable in combat. His face was hard and menace seemed to radiate from him, savage force and speed held on a short leash.

"Thank you, dear one," Arwen said softly. "We will find Guardsmen who will stand with you, if need arises."

The King scanned the faces of Eldarion and the twins. "Well? Will you trust the Queen to his protection?"

Elladan stirred restlessly, picking up small objects from a side table and putting them back without purpose. "I would trust him," he said. "I would trust him, and yet I cannot find it in me to let my sister journey bereft and alone to Lorien, with no more company than an Orc and a company of guards! If you are bound to go, Arwen, I will go with you, and I will stay until you do not need me more."

"Elrohir, will you remain here with my son?" asked the King. "I would have someone I can trust beside him, in this first year of his reign."

Elrohir sighed. "I will stay with him. You will come back to Minas Tirith, brother, when you are finished in Lorien?" A look passed between the twins:doubt on one side and reassurance on the other.

"I will come back," said Elladan. "To whatever fate we go, it will be together, unless indeed some peril of the journey prevent it."

"But I will not send Guardsmen, used to easy service here in the Citadel," said the King. "A full company of soldiers, seasoned in battle, and the captain must be a man who will serve under Canohando's command. The Orc has pledged his life to bring Undomiel safe home, and he must have the ordering of his men."

Canohando knit his brows. "I think you will search a long time, King of Gondor, before you find a captain who will take my orders."

Elladan laid a hand on the orc's shoulder. "I will be Captain, and I will follow your leadership on this venture, if you will allow me to advise you as seems needful. We are of one heart in this, at least, to safeguard the Queen." He turned to the King. "Will you come with me and choose out a company for this mission, Estel? For always you knew your men, by name and reputation, and I would have you handpick those we bring."

"I will come. Are you content, Canohando, to have Elladan at your side? I would not foist a captain on you who is not to your liking; there is too much at stake."

The Orc nodded. "I will be glad to have the Queen's brother beside me, lord. Your soldiers will harken to him as they would not to me, and between us we will bring the Lady home."

Elladan and the King went out then to choose soldiers for the journey. Eldarion kissed his mother and left with Elrohir to meet with the King's Chancellor, for Eldarion must make himself familiar now with affairs in Gondor, after his years in the North Kingdom. Left alone, Arwen drooped against the back of her chair, her eyes closed, her lashes making dark half-moons against her cheeks.

"Lady, drink this." Canohando knelt on one knee beside her chair, holding out a glass of wine. "If I could shield you from this sorrow – but I cannot – "

Arwen took the glass and sipped. "I am glad you came here, Canohando. My husband trusts in you, and it comforts him."

"Do you trust me, Lady?"

She touched his cheek. "You know the answer to that, dear one. We are come to the dregs of the wine, Estel and I, but even now I deem the Powers have put a drop of mercy in the chalice. It was Frodo's faithfulness purchased our happiness, and now it seems you have been sent to us at the very last…"

He sat down on the floor at her feet. "Lady, who is Luthien? You said you chose her fate, but I have never heard the name."

But when she had told him the story, he was silent for a long time. "You are an Elf," he said finally. "And you make yourself – not an Elf, for the King's sake. As Luthien did also – both of you, you gave away your heritage."

"Yes, that is what we have done, for love's sake."

"My ancestors were Elves," he said. "They lost their heritage, but not for love's sake; it was stolen from them. What is the Call you spoke of, Lady, that your people now follow at the last?"

"The Call to Valinor, to the Blessed Realm. Many of the Firstborn who are still in Middle Earth will take ship now, who were unwilling before. Legolas will go, I suppose, whom you met with the Dwarf Gimli."

"You said I am of the Firstborn, but I am not called to Valinor." Canohando was beginning to understand, as he had not before, the tragedy of his ruined people, and his voice was bleak.

"No, dear one." Arwen touched the Jewel that hung around his neck, settled it so it lay centered against his chest. "Not to Valinor, but you were called to me, and I think also to Frodo's land, hereafter. You are known, and your change of heart is known - you will not be put to shame by the One who gave music to the Ainur."

The Orc sat at her feet like a child, and as if he had been a child she caressed his head, not drawing back her hand from the stiff, oiled braids, and after a while she sang softly under her breath, a lullaby she had sung to her children long years before.

The following evening, the King drew Canohando aside after the evening meal.

"You must make yourself known to the men of your company, if they are to follow you. And I would have time alone with the Queen, while there is any time left. Leave her to me in the daytime, Canohando."

"I may guard her door at night, lord?"

"Yes, and I will send for you, if I must leave her for any reason. You are her Shadow still, but I held that place before you came, Orc." Elessar smiled a little, and Canohando felt suddenly that he had found a friend, as well as liege lord, in the King of Gondor.

The next morning, when he had eaten, the orc went in search of the soldiers' armory. Joram had given him directions, and he made his way down through two levels of the city, followed by curious eyes. There were few in Minas Tirith who had not heard of the Queen's Orc, but most people had never seen him. He heard whispers as he passed, but no one accosted him.

"I need a bow," he said to the soldier on duty. "Arrows, a quiver - is the Queen's brother here this morning? Prince Elladan?"

"No. He left orders for the men of his company to muster at noon, on the practice field." The soldier's tone was civil enough, but the glance he cast at Canohando was hostile. He jerked his head toward the supply building without further comment.

The weapons master brought out one bow after another for the orc, and Canohando bent them in his hands, strung them and tried the draw, shaking his head and whistling through his teeth. "They are all too heavy, Man," he said at last. "Do you have any of Elven make?"

The master seemed surprised at the request, but he opened a different closet, revealing a rack of bows, longer than the others, fashioned of some silver-toned wood with a soft patina.

"They are too long for you," he said dismissively, but Canohando was examining them as he had the others, running his hands over them and looking very much more satisfied.

"I can amend that," he said. "I would make my own, but there is not time. This one will do; it has a good feel. Let me see your arrows."

But the arrows did not please him at all; he wrinkled his brows and gave a sigh of exasperation. "Have you got some shafts that are not cut yet? Yes, these will do. Give me points and feathers, then; I will fletch them myself. You make your arrows too short."

The man looked at him coldly. "We won the War, Orc."

"Get me a quiver, Man, the longest one you have: my arrows will be two hands longer than the ones you use. Yes, you won the War, but not because you were better archers. Ninefingers won it for you."

The master bristled with resentment, his lips shut tight; he shoved a quiver at the Orc and Canohando took it, but did not turn away. He stood motionless until the man looked him in the face, wondering what more the Orc would ask for.

"I am not sorry you won, Man of Gondor, only do not forget how it happened!"

He went out, carrying his new weapons, and sat down against the wall of a building on the edge of the practice field. Ignoring the soldiers who were gathered in little groups around the field, fencing or wrestling with one another, or just lounging about, he began fitting points to his arrows.

When he had a few of them finished, he turned to the bow. He took his knife and cut off both ends, stood to measure it against himself, and cut a little more. He tapered the raw ends and smoothed them with the back of his knife blade, cut new notches and finally re-strung it. Then he gathered up his belongings and went in search of a place to try it out.

There was an earthen mound along one side of the field with a row of targets; he smiled grimly when he saw that besides the standard bulls-eyes, there were also a number of figures fashioned to resemble Orcs, sawdust trailing from many holes in their leather hides. Deliberately he took a stance before one of these, noticing from the corner of his eye that he was being observed by several of the men.

He put an arrow through the painted eye of the leather dummy and went to retrieve it.

"Why'n't you go shoot a real one, Grey-skin, and make the world a little cleaner?" The speaker was a blonde giant with a heavy bow slung across his back; with him were two other soldiers not much smaller than himself. They grinned at their comrade's wit, but their eyes on Canohando were full of malice.

"You are an archer in the King's army?" Canohando asked.

The blonde held up his bow. "And I have a man's bow, not a little stump of a thing like yours. Were you the runt of the litter? I always heard Orcs were half again as big as Men!" He stood head and shoulders taller than Canohando, and he smirked down at him, contemptuous.

Canohando fought the temptation to laugh. Here is one who was not in the Hall the day I came, he thought, nor his comrades either, else they would drag him away before Grey-skin strangles him with his own bow-string! And I am wearing a sword now! How did such numbskulls win the War? But he knew the answer to that.

"I will have a contest with you, Man," he said aloud. "Choose your target."

The giant guffawed. He strung his bow and shot an arrow into the dummy's chest. "Split the arrow, if you call yourself an archer," he roared. "Kill your brother twice over!"

Abruptly Canohando lost any urge to laugh. "I do not slay my brothers," he said. "Take that for your target, Man, and I will find another." He might have to kill Orcs on the journey to Lorien, but they were not his brothers. Or were they?

The blonde soldier shot, splitting the arrow neatly and starting a small cascade of sawdust from the leather figure. His friends slapped his back, hooting at Canohando.

"All right, Grey-skin, your turn! What's your target?"

The Orc looked up into the sky. "There," he said, pointing.

"What? Where? You'll hit a cloud, will you?" The soldiers were raucous in their scorn, leaning against each other as if they could hardly stand up upright for mirth. A small crowd had gathered by now, watching, and in the forefront was a boy –

Miko?

Canohando sighted along his arm and fired in a great arc toward the sky. The onlookers craned their necks to follow the flight of his arrow, blinking against the brightness of the sun. Suddenly a wild bird fell dead at their feet, the arrow through its breast. Miko leaped forward to snatch it up from the ground, holding it over his head.

"Canohando wins! I couldn't even see it up there – can all Orcs shoot like that? Will you teach me how? I don't care what my mother says; I want to shoot like that!"

Canohando smiled at the child's excitement, but the blonde soldier he had been shooting against glowered. "Who let you in the gate, boy? This is a practice field for soldiers, not a play-yard for snot-nosed brats." He reached out as if to grab Miko, and a grey hand closed around his wrist.

"Do soldiers fight children in Gondor? I have seen that among my own kind, but I had thought Men knew better."

He pressed the man's arm back against his chest, the blonde's muscles straining as he tried in vain to resist. Canohando shoved him back against his two comrades, staring at them with black eyes that were all the more disturbing for their flat calm.

"You are not a bad archer, but I would not have you in my company: a coward seeking easy prey. Get out of here and go brawl with those more nearly your own size." The Orc twisted a little to one side, shifting his feet and thrusting forward sharply with his forearm: the man fell back heavily, nearly knocking his friends to the ground. They caught him and caught their balance with difficulty, staggering back a few paces. Canohando stood watching, ready in case they rushed him, but they only mumbled imprecations under their breath and walked away.

"You've made a few enemies there," said a voice at his back. "But I suppose it hardly matters; most of the men here must count themselves your enemies anyway, without even that much excuse."

Canohando looked round to find that Elladan had come up behind him. The Elf-lord looked amused. "You do not trouble to be diplomatic, do you? What if he were one of the company the King had chosen for you?"

"I would have thrown him out of it." The Orc turned to Miko. "Take that bird to your grandfather and tell him to cook it for the Queen – the flesh will be sweet, what little there is of it. And save me the flight feathers for my arrows; the creature should not die for nothing." He clasped the Miko's shoulder for a moment before the lad ran off to do his bidding.

"Do you tell me that fool was one of our company?" he said to Elladan.

"Hardly! The King knows his men - you will have no cause to complain of the soldiers he has chosen for you."

Canohando unstrung his bow and hooked it to the quiver, to hang at his back. "For us, Queen's Brother, not for me alone. We share this command, as we share the task to bring her safe to Lorien. And I have not led Men before."

The soldiers Elessar had handpicked were beginning to gather in the center of the parade ground. They milled about, talking among themselves, while Elladan and Canohando stood off to one side.

"How many?" the Orc asked.

"Two hundred forty: a Gondor company, and every one of them has fought at least one campaign."

"Against Men or Orcs?"

Elladan lifted an eyebrow. "Men, for the most part. What Orcs remain are chiefly in the North."

"You have fought Orcs, though."

"Many times," Elladan drawled.

"Then you know that Orcs do not fight the same as Men, Queen's Brother. We will have to train our soldiers; if we meet enemies on this journey, they are likely to be Orcs."

Elladan nodded, sober-faced, and led the way to the front. "Men of the Queen's Company!" he shouted, and the soldiers formed themselves quickly into straight lines; he waited until they were still before he continued. "You were chosen by the King for a special mission, at the behest of Queen Arwen, my sister. I am your Captain." There was a scattering of cheers, and he held up a hand for silence. "I have a superior officer in this Company, by order of the King," he said, and there was a sudden hush. "I present to you our Commander, Canohando the Orc!"

And silence descended as if every man on the field had been turned to stone. Only their eyes moved, from Elladan to the Orc, and their faces were slack with disbelief.

Canohando left Elladan's side and walked along the ranks slowly, looking each man in the face. Now and then he stopped and held a man's gaze for minutes at a time before he moved on; a few times he reached out and touched an arm or a shoulder. Watching him, Elladan realized that these were the men who looked most outraged or appalled; after Canohando passed by, they seemed bemused, as if their assumptions had been challenged and they no longer knew what to think.

The Orc finished at last, having met the eyes of every man in the company. It was so quiet that they could hear the noise from the street outside the soldiers' compound, children shouting in some game, a hot bread seller hawking his wares.

Canohando stood beside Elladan once more, contemplating the men of his command.

"My name is Canohando," he said finally. His voice was hoarse, not full and rich like Elladan's, but it carried. "I was not born to this name, nor was I born to serve the King of Gondor. The name was given to me by the Brown Wizard, when he came to Mordor after the War. I do not know the Elven tongue, but he told me that my name means "Wise Commander". I will try to be that to this Company.

"I have another name, given to me by your King. I am the Queen's Shadow, and I have taken oath to protect her with my life. Every one of you will take that same oath, or you will not be part of this Company. I give you over now to your Captain, for you will need special training for this mission, but each of you must come to me, by yourself, and swear your oath in my hearing before nightfall tomorrow. I will be over there, making my arrows." He pointed toward the place against the wall where he had been sitting earlier, said a quiet word to Elladan, and turned away. Under their eyes he walked across the field and settled himself against the wall again, taking up an arrow and beginning to work on it.

"I never saw anything like it," Elladan told his brother later. "I've seen Orc captains before; their followers are terrified of them, and the captains are as quick to turn and kill their own as they are an enemy, for the slightest disobedience! I expected that he would try to cow them, but all he did was look them in the eye and demand their oath to defend the Queen."

"Did they give their oaths?"

Elladan took a sip of his wine. "They did, indeed. They slipped out of their ranks, one after another, and went over to him. He didn't even get up, just sat there on the ground making arrows like a common fletcher, but he watched their faces while they swore to him. I think nearly the whole company had given oath before we left the practice ground today, even though he gave them until tomorrow. It was the strangest behavior I've ever seen in any leader of men."

"What do you think, will they follow him? Although since you are Captain, I suppose that won't matter; certainly they will follow you!"

"Of course," said Elladan. He stared into his wine, then emptied his glass in one swallow. "I think after today, they might follow him even if I weren't there, most of them. There's something about the way he looks at you..."

The ensuing weeks were given over to training the soldiers to fight Orcs. Canohando spent hours with the archers, taking his own turn shooting with the rest of them.

"Aim high," he told them. "The eyes or the throat. You won't pierce Orkish armor easily; you're wasting your arrows there, and you must kill or disable with a single shot, for you won't get a second one." But he taught them also how to parry a sword thrust with their bows, and the trick of wrenching a weapon out of an enemy's hand to use against him.

Elladan meanwhile worked with the rest of the men, making half of them take the part of Orcs and pretend to ambush the others, using tactics he had seen Orc captains use in battle. They trained morning and afternoon, day after day, and soldiers who were not part of the Queen's Company came to watch, standing around the sides of the practice field.

"What's it all for?" they asked the men of the Company, but no one knew. They ran and shot and hacked at one another with dull practice blades till sweat ran down their backs under their armor, even in the chill of late winter, but nobody could say what battle they were training for, except that they would be fighting Orcs, and they were led by an Orc.

Then one night Elessar was closeted for a long time with Eldarion and the Queen's brothers, and when they came out of that meeting he called Canohando to him.

"In three days there will be a solemn Council for the leaders of the Kingdom, to announce the coming transfer of power to my son. The Queen does not wish to be present, but I want you there, Canohando."

Canohando knit his brows. "Will she be alone, lord?"

"No. Gimli and Legolas will bear her company. They are notable warriors and old friends; still, if you wish you may send five or six men of your own Company to strengthen the guard at her door. I do not think it will be necessary."

"All the same, lord, I will bring them. Our men are sworn to defend her, even as I am myself."

Elessar smiled. "I had heard that already from Elladan. Radagast named you well, I think."

The day of the Council dawned rainy and cold. Canohando flung the black cloak of his uniform over his shoulders before he went to the kitchens for breakfast. He had not been there since he began training his Company, taking his meals rather in the soldiers' mess, sitting at table with his men instead of comfortably on the floor. In the kitchens Joram greeted him warmly.

"I've heard nothing from Miko these past weeks but the excitement of the practice field, you and Prince Elladan training your soldiers. What mission are you entrusted with, that you prepare them to fight Orcs?"

Canohando took his meal and sat down in his usual corner. "Wait a little longer, Man. I think the King may announce it today at the Council."

Joram drew a mug of ale for the orc and one for himself, sitting down on a bench. "Miko has been watching the archery; he would like for you to see him shoot, when there is time."

"Tell him to bring his bow to the practice field; I will make time for him. His mother does not object to him being there?"

"She does not like it, but he has uncles and cousins in the army. He used to go from time to time, visiting them – not every day, as he does now! I am glad to see him spending his days there, to tell the truth."

Canohando ate, considering Joram's words. "You had better take him in hand, Man," he said finally. "When we leave on our mission, he will be wandering again." He had noticed the child hanging around the field, but had been too busy to spare him more than a word or a smile in passing. But I will see him shoot, he promised himself.

The Council was held in the Throne Room, for there were a great number present, but there was no music this day, nor any bevy of Court ladies adding brightness to the scene. The windows looked out on a melancholy landscape, cold rain plopping on the windowsills, and inside the room was grey and damp. Canohando had been instructed to stand at the front, with the courtiers, and he leaned against a pillar, his cloak pulled close around him, waiting with the rest of them for the King.

Elessar came at last, flanked by Eldarion and the Queen's brothers. He moved quickly toward the front, not stopping to greet anyone, although he nodded to this one and that as he came. He mounted the dais and turned to face them.

"Men of Gondor," he said, but then he stopped for a moment, gazing around the Hall as if he committed it to memory before leaving on a journey.

Finally he began again. "Men of Gondor, for one hundred twenty years I have reigned in Minas Tirith, and only a handful of you can remember the day of my Coronation, for there are few left anymore of the descendants of Numenor. Most of you were not yet born when Kingship returned to Gondor. Nevertheless, there have been many Kings, as you may see by their images set in honor up and down this Hall.

"No man may live forever on the earth, even the race of Numenor, and the time fast approaches when Gondor shall have a new King."

A rustling disquiet swept down the Hall, as if all present sucked in their breath by one accord. Elessar waited, letting the room die back to silence before he continued.

"According to our custom, the crown passes to my son Eldarion, and he is here before you." He stretched forth his hand, and Eldarion stood forth, alone at the foot of the dais. "This is the Prince who shall be your King, a week hence." The room stirred again, and he waited. "He is true-born heir to the throne of Gondor, of the line of Valandil, Isildur's son, Elendil's son of Numenor, prepared from childhood to hold this Office, tested in battle, and experienced in administering the North Kingdom in my name.

"Men of Gondor, shall Eldarion my son inherit the crown? Will you swear fealty to him here in my presence, that the Kingdom may continue in peace and harmony, secure within and without, after I have gone to my rest?"

There was silence in the Hall, so deep that nothing could be heard but the sound of raindrops hitting the windowsills. Eldarion stood like a marble statue at the foot of the dais, and Elessar at the top, looking from one face to the next of the leading men of Gondor. At last the King's voice rang out, a clap of thunder startling them all awake, "Answer me! How say you?"

"Aye!" shouted one man, and others took it up, till the Hall rang with their shouts, and they stamped their feet and cried aloud their approval, their voices echoing from the stone walls. And one after another they bent the knee, till there was not a man left standing in the Hall, except the King and Eldarion only. Canohando knelt among them, his heart uplifted by he knew not what, and along with the Men of Gondor he swore faithfulness and lifelong allegiance to Eldarion, who would be King.