Chapter five

Boromir had a nervous feeling in him as he walked up the stone steps towards the Citadel. Faramir had said his father loved him dearly. Indeed, he had always had a pride in him. Yet he was a hard man to talk to, especially with the kind of news that Boromir was delivering, and months of defeat and giving way made Boromir unsure of this.

He could see a group of people heading towards him. He could see the helmets of the Tower Guard among them. Boromir also knew the man in front of the column.

Denethor was a man who was aging. His hair was greying, lines grew on his face, and the fact that he was under immense pressure did not help. Boromir had seen him with a small smile on his face, and he had also seen him with a face as grim as the mountains of Mordor themselves. Boromir took a deep breath and walked towards his father.

At first, Boromir only saw the hard-set, tight-lipped mouth, and narrow eyes. Then, he saw tears. Tears flowed down Denethor's face as he gripped his oldest son in a death embrace. Boromir, overcome by it, began also to shed tears.

Denethor looked into Boromir's face, "My son,' he said quietly, 'It does me a great joy to see thy face again. Come inside. I will organize a meal for the two of us."

Boromir smiled. He was home, and unexpectedly happy to see his father like this. Faramir had been right all along.

There was a variety of food on the table, and Boromir discovered he was ravenously hungry. After both of them had eaten, Denethor turned his face to Boromir, "So. What news do you bring to your father?"

Boromir spoke, "Much news, some good, some very grave. I will tell you all of it."

So Boromir started into the long story that had started when he had first entered Osgiliath. By the time he had finished, Denethor looked thoughtful, his face betraying nothing. Then, after a minute, he frowned, "What is Faramir doing in Osgiliath as Ithilien is attacked?"

Boromir shrugged, "He arrived just as we were about to lose another fight. He has been useful to us. Three hundred Rangers is a strong encouragement."

Denethor snorted, "Bah! He is not doing his duty. His duty is to defend Ithilien, not to abandon it to a few hundred leaderless Rangers."

Boromir looked indignant, "Faramir's arrival was crucial to us. As for Ithilien, he says he felt they are well established enough. He wouldn't have come otherwise."

Denethor merely grunted in thought.

Boromir decided now to request what he had come home for, "Father, I have told you our latest garrison strength. We are about to be overwhelmed by Mordor forces. We are in great need of reinforcements. Even seven hundred would give us half as many again."

Denethor looked at him. Then he spoke, "There are, if I can remember, around three thousand men enlisted in Minas Tirith. I myself expect five hundred reinforcements from the coast, and another hundred from Imrahil of Dol Amroth. I will give younine hundred men. That will be enough surely?"

Boromir nodded gratefully.nine hundred reinforcements would definitely be a help to him. 'But for how long?' he wondered. In reality, he said, "Thank you father."

He stood to leave, when Denethor held up a hand, "And Boromir. I want Faramir out of Osgiliath. He has his own duty without taking yours away from you."

Boromir bowed slightly, and left to return to Osgiliath.