Boromir had been attempting to distract himself by trying to recall all the taverns to be found on the first three levels of Minas Tirith, when he heard someone coming down the hall towards his cell. Frowning slightly, he wondered why someone would be coming to see him. It had only been a short time since The Fox had left him and it wasn't time for more medicine or food. He straightened up as best he could as he waited for what was next.
He was surprised to see The Fox come through the curtain bearing three books. He had not expected to see the man for quite some time nor had he expected that The Fox would bring the books himself. He found himself cheering up, though he could not have said why. The appropriate response to seeing one's captor should be fear or defiance. Eagerness was definitely not suitable behavior.
Trying to act casual, he sank back against the wall and schooled his features to look suitably calm and collected. He was particularly proud of the eyebrow he had quirked in question – a gesture he picked up from his father that he knew had the effect of annoying the person it was directed at.
"Well, two visits in one morning. Tell me, are you this attentive to all of your prisoners?" Boromir tossed off with what he thought was perfect nonchalance.
Faramir shook his head and said, "Since I don't make a habit to take prisoners, I've got nothing to compare my behavior to, but I'd like to think I would attend to anyone who was in my care, regardless as to why." He moved closer to the bed and held out the books. "I'm afraid this is the best I can offer. The History of Numenor should be of interest and I had a book of military campaigns that I thought you would like. The third is about the early days of Gondor, which I'm sure you've probably read many times, but sometimes there is a comfort in revisiting old friends." For a moment the lines of Faramir's body grew softer as happier memories held sway.
Boromir was fascinated by the change that came over The Fox. It was clear the man had a love of books, something he would never have suspected from a leader of bandits. It would appear that there was much more to The Fox than met the eye. Not that he could see much. The mask and hood were very much in place and Boromir found himself once again speculating on what lay beneath. Was he dark haired like most of the men of Gondor? His eyes were certainly not the gray of a typical Gondorian. Was he from Rohan? He didn't think so. The Fox didn't have the accent of a Rohirrim and the horse people had no use for books. This man was a decided mystery and Boromir's curiosity was piqued.
Faramir pulled himself back from his memories, realizing he must have looked quite foolish to the man sitting before him. He placed the books down on the bed beside Boromir and tried to recover some dignity. "Hopefully this will keep you occupied for a while. I'm afraid that once you are done with these, you will be left with collections of poetry and books on plants and animals. The latter are useful to one who lives in the woods, but not likely to be of much interest to you." Faramir smiled at Boromir, forgetting the mask that hid his face.
Boromir found himself studying The Fox's covered face. As Captain-General he had be good at reading people, but he found the inability to see The Fox's expressions a bit frustrating. Still, it looked as though there was a twinkle in the man's eyes and Boromir found himself responding. With a grin of his own he replied, "Well, in light of the fact that I'm suppose to be tracking a wily outlaw through the wilds of Ithilien, I guess it would behoove me to learn a little bit more about these things. Though, in truth, the wiser thing would have been to learn all of this before I set foot in your territory. A true bit of arrogance on my part, thinking I could best you on your own ground. A good soldier should know better than that. I'm fortunate that you are a gracious captor. " He teasingly bowed in courtly fashion.
Faramir laughed and said, "Well, a gentleman must always be hospitable, no matter how uninvited the guest. Though I'm afraid you will find the menu rather uninspiring. While they are some of the finest rangers ever to grace Ithilien, cooking is not really a skill they excel at. Only one of them can turn out anything that can truly pass for good food, so we all look forward to his turn in the cooking roster."
Boromir chuckled. "Believe me, I've eaten more than my share of camp cooking and my ability to choke down the truly inedible is quite high. My soldiers are also some of the best, but cooking is not a skill any of them possess. I've often said that we should add a class at the Academy that teaches them how to cook. After all, an army marches on its stomach, so shouldn't that stomach be full of food it can actually digest?"
Faramir laughed and said "A fine point. So have you actually proposed this or is it merely an idea whose time has not yet come?"
"Alas, it was dismissed as merely me playing the clown. Though I suppose it's just as well. Who would we get to teach it? We'd actually have to find someone who knew how to make edible food and if he exists in this army, I've yet to encounter him. And believe me, I've been looking!" An impish grin split Boromir's face.
"Yes, I'd imagine if you had found him, he would be a most treasured member of your cadre and kept safe from all possible harm. I imagine you'd even create a special designation for him. " Pausing for a moment to think he teased, "How about Cookpot Commander?"
Boromir chuckled. "That's a good one. Though that may be starting him out rather high in the command chain. Perhaps he should start out as Campfire Corporal or Soupspoon Sergeant. After all, we need to give him room for advancement."
"So true. After all, he may learn new skills. Perhaps discover the use of new spices?" Relaxed, Faramir unthinkingly adjusted the hood, pushing it back a bit from his face. He was unused to having to keep it on in normal situations.
Boromir was laughing happily and didn't notice right away that The Fox had revealed more of himself. He was enjoying the banter and complete lack of formality. While he would spend his off time with his men, there was always an underlying element of rank that colored the proceedings. It was relaxing to just be himself, without title or rank getting in the way.
Intending on making a comeback to The Fox's last sally, he noticed that the hood had slipped back a bit. While the mask still obscured his face, he could see the man's startling blue eyes more clearly and it made his fingers itch to push it back just a little bit further. He could almost make out the color of the hair hiding beneath the hood.
Sensing Boromir's assessing gaze, Faramir realized he had allowed his hood to slip. Pulling it back into place, he gave Boromir a nod and said, "This getup is not so enjoyable to wear indoors. In fact there are days when I would gladly never wear it again. You are fortunate that your position requires you to be readily identified. Anonymity, while necessary, is quite inconvenient to maintain." He nodded once again to Boromir and turned to leave.
Boromir found himself searching for any means to keep the man here. He was surprised at the response, but dismissed it as merely his boredom at being alone. He didn't allow himself to think that it could be anything more than that or that he could be feeling drawn towards his mysterious captor.
Hastily he blurted out "Recognition has its own inconveniences. " When The Fox paused, then turned back, he realized he would need to say more than that if he wanted the man to stay. Mentally scrambling, he tried to come up with something more interesting to say. Finally he said, "You probably think that the attention is welcome, but it really isn't. People always expect me to be on display. Strong and brave and noble. The Golden Knight they call me. Do you have any idea how much I hate that name? Its about how I look – it has nothing to do with me. But the Valar forbid that I allow myself to be seen looking anything less than presentable. It's why I spend most of my time with the army. At least there I am not a prize animal on display at the fair." Boromir's tone was quite bitter and he was surprised that he had confessed so much to a virtual stranger.
Faramir shrugged and said, "You are the son of the most powerful man in the land. That makes you the greatest prize there is on the marriage market. I am surprised you have managed to avoid being caught for so long. You must be very nimble indeed, for I have heard that noble women are more persistent than any of the sheriff's men who pursue me. Of course, while the prize on my head is sizeable indeed, it hardly merits when compared the prize of capturing Boromir of Gondor." It was an unkind jab, but when you live in a cave and have to hide out from the law, hearing that someone's biggest worry was marriage-minded females was enough to make you rather unsympathetic.
Boromir glared at The Fox for a moment, finding it hard to believe that the man would have the nerve to mock him about his problem. He shifted to pull himself up stiffly, intending to make a cutting remark when he felt a rough patch on the wall dig into his back. This brought him back to the reality that he was currently sitting in a cave. A cave that served as the dwelling place for the man before him. Moreover, the man lived in this cave because he was the most wanted man in Gondor. Boromir's marriage problems must seem rather petty in comparison. After all, if he made a bad move, he'd only end up married to some scheming minx. If The Fox made a wrong move, he'd end up swinging from a rope. Sighing he said, "I must sound rather pathetic to you. Complaining about being stalked when those who hunt you have much worse fates in mind for you."
Faramir looked at Boromir in surprise. That was an unexpected concession from the man. "Perhaps it is unfair to compare. While I'd have a rather nasty time of it, it would only be for a short time and then over. You would be forced to endure a lifetime of punishment. I'm not sure which I would choose - not that I'd get to chose. Somehow I don't think that I would seem like much of a catch on the marriage market."
Boromir looked Faramir with a considering eye, and said, "Well, you certainly could provide well for your wife. That last raid alone would keep even the most extravagant of brides in dresses and jewels." Thinking of that made him wonder exactly where The Fox kept his stash. He didn't really believe the stories that The Fox gave away all his wealth.
Faramir shook his head. "I'm afraid my bride would be wearing rags since that money has gone to help the poor. No, any woman who was foolish enough to take me on would be living right here in the caves with me. No parties, no fancy dresses and jewels. Somehow I don't think there will be any takers. "
Boromir looked at The Fox in disbelief. "Are you telling me you gave away the entire shipment? But that was nearly 5,000 gold pieces!" Boromir shook his head, not willing to believe that anyone would give away that much money.
Faramir merely shrugged. "That's a drop in the bucket when compared with how much money your father, gouges the peasants for. But it will at least see that the worst hit will have money enough to buy food for the winter. Still, there are many others who will barely get by." Faramir sighed heavily. He knew he was doing everything he possibly could, but it still saddened him to know how many people he couldn't reach.
Boromir was astounded. The stories were true. The Fox did give away all his ill-gotten gains. But what kind of man would go through so much danger without getting any kind of profit from it. Looking at The Fox with new eyes he said, "But why go through all of this? You risk your life and get nothing for it. Do you at least keep some of the money for yourself?"
Faramir shook his head. "The money is needed by those who can not earn enough to pay their taxes and buy food for their families. We are able to hunt and there are those who help us by giving us the food they can spare. Our lives are simple here – they have to be. Without that money, many would lose their homes. I would rather do without luxuries like lamp oil than know that a family lost their farm or business because I kept money for myself."
Boromir shook his head. Lamp oil was hardly a luxury, especially to one who lived in a cave. He looked over at the tallow candle that served to keep him from darkness and then at the man who stood before him. When he came to Ithilien, he saw The Fox as a greedy bandit who had become bold enough to start raiding big convoys. A nuisance who had found a way to convince gullible peasants that he was really on their side. Since being captured, he had come to appreciate The Fox's tactical abilities and intelligence. The man had been handed a difficult situation and had come up with a way to neutralize the damage. Moreover, he had treated Boromir with absolute fairness, even though Boromir had come to Ithilien for the sole purpose of capturing him. Had the situation been reversed, he would not have been anywhere near as fair to The Fox. Far from it in fact.
How had a man who had brains, talent, determination and leadership ability end up in Ithilien playing bandit? With his education, he could have made officer easily enough and Boromir would have been glad to have him working for him. What made him come to Ithilien? And who was he? He spoke of books as one who spent a great deal of time with them, but that wasn't the life of a farmer or craftsman's son. He was a trained fighter yet he hadn't attended the academy. There was no way someone of his abilities would not have been brought to Boromir's attention if he had. So where exactly did The Fox come from?
Faramir watched the expressions chase across Boromir's face. That he had a hard time accepting that Faramir gave the money away was not a surprise. Boromir came from a world of privilege and power. To give something away without getting something else in return was a completely foreign concept to him. He knew it would take time to get Boromir to see why it was necessary. But the considering look had Faramir a bit nervous. What was going on in that soldier's mind of his? Had Faramir given something away? He ran his mind over the conversation and could find nothing that should be causing such speculation. Still, Boromir was no fool and it should be expected that he would be trying to figure out some plan, some tactic to use next. Best get out of there since there was no point in providing him with more to work with.
He cleared his throat and said, "Well, I have things that I must be attending to. I hope the books can keep boredom at bay for at least a small time. Be sure to keep off your ankle as much as possible. I know that sitting still is not your style but it will never heal if you walk about on it." Faramir turned and made for the exit.
Boromir watched the retreating back and felt a twinge of regret. Reaching for a book, he realized it would be hard to read with his hands tied. He called out to The Fox "Wait a moment. " The Fox turned, but it was clear he was not happy at being stopped yet again. Boromir held up his hands and said "It will be difficult to read like this." He looked at The Fox hopefully.
Faramir sighed and said "Untying you means endangering my men. I can't risk having you trying to escape. I'm sorry." He turned once again, hoping to get out of there. He felt rather guilty about keeping the man bound.
Boromir sighed and then said, "What if I give you my word not to try to escape? To be honest, I wouldn't get very far. I can't walk, I have no weapons, and even if I somehow managed to get past your men, I have no idea where I am. I'd very likely die in the woods somewhere. You have said you will release me unharmed and I believe you. Frankly, I'd be a fool to risk an escape and I didn't make Captain-General by doing foolish things."
Faramir stared at Boromir long and hard. The practical side of him told him he'd be five kinds of idiot to untie Boromir. But the tactical side of him said that accepting Boromir's word was a great way of earning the man's trust. Weighing the pros and cons, he decided that he would take the risk.
"If I agree to leave you untied, you must agree not only that you will not try to escape, but you will not to make contact with me or any of my men. When they enter the room, you will remain seated and will stay seated until they leave again. You may speak to them, but you will in no way make physical contact. When you are taken from this room, you will not only be bound but also blindfolded and you will submit to this without resistance. Those are the conditions you must agree to if I am to agree to leave you untied while in this room. Do you give me your word to abide by all of this?"
Boromir frowned at the list of conditions, but had to admit that they were wise precautions. Once again, The Fox showed himself to be thinking farther ahead than Boromir. Should he agree to this, he would not only be unable to escape, but would be unable to do anything that would help him identify The Fox or any of his men. But if he did not agree, he would still not be able to accomplish any of those things and he would be vastly uncomfortable. Best to agree to the conditions and free his hands.
"I swear that I will not attempt any kind of escape. I also swear that I will make no attempt to touch you or any of your men should they approach me. I also swear to submit to blindfold and binding when being taken from this room. Does that meet with your approval? Can I be freed now?" He held up his hands toward The Fox.
Fighting down the part of his mind that was screaming at him that this was a terrible idea, he walked over to the bed and began untying Boromir. Once he had freed the man's hands he said, "Break your word and you will find I am not so kind or accommodating." Then without another word, he turned and walked from the room.
Boromir rubbed his wrists to bring circulation back into them and stared at the curtain that The Fox had just walked through. Most people, his father included, would have screamed at him for making such a promise, but he knew he had done the right thing. By cooperating, he was ensuring that nothing happened to him. He was in no shape to try to escape and by making such an agreement he had won some good will with his captor. He wasn't sure why that mattered so much to him, but it seemed important and Boromir wasn't one to question his impulses much. They usually served him in good stead.
Looking at the books beside him he picked up the first one. The History of Numenor. His tutors had tried to drum such information into him, but he had always been too impatient to listen. He had always wanted to be out on the practice field rather than trapped behind a stuffy desk. Guess it was time for him to learn it now. He settled back against the wall and began to read.
To Be Continued...