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Bottom of Form 1

Chapter 4

Finished she stepped back and looked att he display. The notice on the tree was signed with her name, giving way to the fact that she was the maker of this savage display of royal supremecy. This would serve as an example to all who saw as to how the crown of Gondor now delt with traitors. A warning to those that had thought of balking at Aragorns rule not to. Naru hoped with all she was that it worked and that balking at Aragorns right to rule would soon stop, saving her from more of these disgusting actions.

As Naru watched the first flies arrive she turned on her heal and left the scene to find somewhere to wash off the blood, now dried, that caked her clothes and face. I imagine I'd frighten small children, she thought as she left.

Naru rode over the feild slouching slightly, one hand holding the reins the other under her shirt, absently stroking the pendant. The chain of it was cool, the jewel pleasently warm. Her clothes where rough on her skin, a thick cloak billowing around her as she rode in the late night. The stars seemed unusually bright in the inky sky and made Naru think of a little melody her grandmother had taught her.

The stars are bright,
The sky at night,
The moon is slivered,
Not a Man in sight.
Weak we are called,
She said from beneath a shawl
But men do not think
On what they've been told.

This was a favorite lullaby of Naru's, her mother had sung it to her when she'd still been crawling. It was one of the only things she remembered of the woman who had given birth to her, for Lady Liluviel had died in child birth, the babe with her, when Naru had been five, making her the youngest. Slowly Naru turned her head to the sky and gently tugged the reins. Grem halted and looked around slowly. Naru released the reins and let them catch on the saddle as Grem lowered his head to nibble at a tuft of oddly pale grass in the light from the sliver of a moon.

"The stars are bright..." Naru whispered, looking at the stars and finding the constelations that she knew. As her eyes traqced them she thought over her deed of two days ago. Celenurion law would dictate that she bury every man she slay, but Naru didn't think any of the Religious Elders would ever hear of her actions for Naru was no longer Naruviel, daughter of kings, princess of Celenurion. She was Naru Hunter, Bandit catcher of the King of Gondor. Now, a bit sadly, Naru thought about her homeland. The crown would go to some diatant relative in the Gondorean Court or would be awarded to some prestigious general as a reward for service in the war because for all that everything that mattered, the royal house of Celenurion was dead. Naru felt sadness at the fact that her cousin would never know of his ancestors, but besides that she was oddly bereft of all emotion towards being whipper, nearly raped, ripped from her home, and set on the trail of a murderer like some lap dog of the King's Court. But she also felt nothing about watching her family and her pet be slaughtered before her very eyes, so being bereft was fitting, wasn't it?

"Well, Grem, old man, it looks like we don't have anywhere to go." Grem snorted lightly and kept on grazing. The old lullaby ran through her mind and Naru felt like crying, all of a sudden. it had been years since her mother had passed, years since the pain of knowing that ones father cared only as much for you as he might a situation that might gain him wealth, years since being cast out from the play groups of the children because of her birth, years of repressed emotions threatened to break. "No. I will not. Oh..."

With a sigh, Naru leaned to pick up he reins and lightly kicked Grems side. He reluctantly Pulled his head up and began walking agian. If they kept at this pace they would reach Minas Tirith by dark the next day.

Dawn came and passed, noon came and passed and Naru finally halted her horse to eat some food. It had been two days since her last meal, and hunger clawed at her belly. Swiftly Naru unsaddled Grem and set him to grazing and ploped down on the grass to rest a bit and eat some dried meat and cheese.

She was stll eating when the most startleing thought enerted her mind. She had given hardly any thought as to how her young cousin and her grandmother were doing!

Minas Tirith was tidy enough, Dami, once queen of Celenurion, thought as she walked one of it's elaborate gardens, leaning heavily on a knarled teak cain. it made a steady thum, thump as she moved and the training yard of the young boy's came into sight.. Her grandson Timomni, stood out with his striking ly dark hair among so many fair. he was coming out of his shell, she thought. And would well meet the difficulties that his life had in store for him. Dami smiled as she thought of the path life had given the little one. It would proove to be fun to watch.

Still hobbling, Dami turned a twist in the path and came upon Elessar, The King of Gondor, sitting on a bench, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Dami smiled.

She walked up to him, making no sound. a shocking feat coming from a woman old enough to remeber Ecthelion coming to a treaty dinner. "Your majesty," she said in her slightly young, flowing voice. it had gotten abit shaky with old age, but she was proud to say that she could still stop a man in his tracks with it. Also she could turn a backflip neat as you please, despite, or in spite, of old bones.

As the King climbed to his feet and made a slight bow, Dami mused on a thing that would have made Aragorn's eyes pop out if he had been able to hear them.

Dami acknowledged his bow with a nod. And stopping a man in his tracks, Dami thought, that Lord Faulk. Mmm, mmm,mmm, he had a very nice... form.

Lord Faulk was a man that had served the court of The White City for longer that Aragorn could find. Longer than anyone could find, except Faramir, who remembered him walking with his grandfather, one time. He was wrinkled at his eyes and mouth, had thining hair, rather near to no hair, and he was also prone to ramble on about "the old days." But the old man still stood as tall and proud as he had on his twenty-first birthday. He also carried around a sword so encrusted with jewels that it shocked Aragorn that the hilt hadn't fallen off from the weight of them. A likable, grandfatherly man.

"How are you Lady Dami?"

"Oh, I'm good, my good lad," Aragorn sighed at this, " but how is our queen this morning?"

Aragorn looked at her blankly.

Dami smiled in a knowing way. "I don't think her breakfast sat well with her this morning."

Aragorn stared. The woman hadn't been in the dining hall this morning, so how did she know?

Dami kept smiling. "You'll give her my congradulations and my comdolances, won't you?" With that Dami hobbled away, leaving Aragorn stumped as to what went on in a woman's mind.

The pub and inn was filled to it's seams , but Naru still walked in in and ordered a meal. she asked after a room and was shocked to find that the innkeep, a round little man by the name of Graham, had two left, but only for this night. Naru rented one and was led to it my a frail looking maid who kept shooting frieghtened glances at the sword she carried. Naru did her best to ignore them, but they still rubbed on the edge.

Naru, doing her best not to bark, asked for a bath and for her meal to be sent to her room. Dipping several curtsies, the girl nearly fled from the room.

Muttering, Naru set her saddle bage near the door and walked to the bed and calapsed upon it's lumpy matress. it was a quaint little room, with sturdy furniture and a wells made homey air about it. Naru closed her eyes and listened to the words of the somg that echoed from the commomroom for a moment before her eyes snapped open with shock and her face heated.

The lords chamber maid in the song should have been run out of town after being flogged.

Naru then got up and peered into the hall to see if her bath was coming. It wasn't. Restless and trying not to listen to the song, Naru paced for a bit and then settled in one of the two chairs for a long wait.

Her cheeks still burned by the time her bath cam, followed by her meal.