These characters all belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. This story was written for pleasure and not for financial gain
I am in blood
Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er.
Shakespeare:Macbeth. Act iii.
Warning This chapter may disturb sensitive readers.
Now the time had come to use it, Faramir was starting to fear the spider venom would prove as lethal as his dagger, or even worse, leave Aragorn alive but paralysed. Yet, it represented his only chance of leaving this place alive, slender though it was.
He concluded the back of Aragorn's neck would be the most suitable location to insert the needle, as he did want any wound to be visible. It was doubtful, given Aragorn's condition, that another small wound would be noticeable or even, given their terror of the fever that they would give the body even the most cursory of inspections, but he dared take no risks.
Again, he knelt beside the King, this time daring to touch him with his ungloved hands. Swiftly he lifted Aragorn's head and pushed aside the tangled and filthy hair.
Although barely conscious, the King caught sight of the needle and became aware that further pain was about to be inflicted on him and struggled feebly .He was so weak now, though that Faramir had little trouble in holding him still.
"No, no, please, no!" Aragorn moaned.
That the strongest and noblest man on Arda should have been reduced to this was truly appalling. That he should have played a part in it, even more so, Faramir thought sadly.
"I am sorry but I have to do this!" Faramir murmured. He wanted so much to tell Aragorn how much he loved him, his regret for his ill treatment of him and what his plan entailed, but he dared not delay. Someone might come, or pity might stay his hand. It seemed that even if he could explain, Aragorn was far too ill to comprehend what he was doing.
Taking a deep breath, he plunged the needle deep into Aragorn's flesh.
The King gave a yelp of pain and then went limp. What little colour he had, drained from his face. He ragged breathing ceased. When Faramir felt the side of his neck for a pulse, he could detect none. His heart lurched, for although Tarostar had told him the venom produced this effect, what if he had used too much and Aragorn really was dead? He then pressed his ear to the King's chest in vain search of a heartbeat. He did not undo his shirt, though as it appeared to have adhered to his skin due to dried blood and pus. He dreaded what wounds he might uncover should they escape from this place alive.
Forcing himself to push such thoughts aside, Faramir threw the needle into the bucket and steeled himself to put the most daring part of his plan into action.
He noisily rushed up the stairs and burst into the dining room, where Fosco, Hanna and Devorin were still seated around the table drinking wine..
"Elessar is dead!" he announced, " I just now went to look at him and he is not breathing!"
Hanna started to laugh wildly and raised her glass as if in a toast. "Good riddance!" she tittered.
Elbeth burst into tears.
"What are you crying for?" Hanna demanded, "That usurper murdered my mother and brother! I only regret I never got round to having a bit more fun with him, I was looking forward to taking his manhood!"
" I liked him. He was my friend!" Elbeth insisted.
"Go to your room and stay there!" Hanna retorted, slapping her daughter viciously across the face.
"If you must beat her, do so where none can see!" Fosco said harshly, as a servant let the protesting Elbeth away. Devorin and Fosco started to pace the room; their wine forgotten while Hanna remained at the table.
"Trust the usurper to escape us!" Devorin said grimly, "What shall we do now about the marriage contract?"
"How will we dispose of the carcass without catching the contagion?" Fosco fretted, "We can do nothing until that threat is removed."
"I could do it, " Faramir offered," I will take no harm from the fever and I would not have you risk yourselves!"
"It will be a difficult task for one man with an injured arm to dig a deep enough grave." Devorin protested.
"I saw several disused wells on the way here." Faramir told him, "The body could be thrown down one of those where no one would ever find it. It would be better than burying it where wild animals might uncover the grave."
"You have inherited your father's wisdom, Lord Faramir!" Fosco exclaimed, " That is a wise plan indeed. It would be prudent to wait until nightfall, though. You must be careful not to be seen Peasants roam these woods ever since Elessar passed his foolish laws! All that will change soon! I will find a sack and the servants will help you get the body on to a horse. "
"My thanks," said Faramir, " I will enjoy disposing of the carcass of the one who caused me so much suffering. A pity, though, we could not get him to sign the document. I will endeavour though, to see the marriage goes ahead for I want to see my brother's heiress get her rightful dues. I believe I have some influence over the Elven witch, especially as she knows her son's accession depends on my goodwill!"
"It was a fortunate day indeed when you decided to join us! I will see the corpse is brought to you as soon as it gets dark." Fosco enthused, clapping Faramir on the shoulder while the younger man struggled to hide his disgust. "Have some wine and we will drink to your success!" he said before sitting down again, beckoning a servant to fill his glass.
Faramir drained his glass but waved away a servant who was about to refill it.
"I had better keep my head clear for later but I will make up for it when I return!" Faramir told them. "Maybe you will have that girl you told me about taken to my room tonight?"
"You won't regret it. She will show you delights I doubt you will have experienced before!" Devorin assured him. "How do you want her prepared?"
"Just tell her to bathe and wear clean clothing." Faramir replied, wondering whatever Eowyn would say.
"Would you not like her as soon as she is ready?" Devorin enquired. He had now returned to his place beside Hanna and was sliding his hand down her ample cleavage. She giggled and half-heartedly tried to nibble his fingers.
I will save that pleasure for later. A man needs a woman to keep him warm on a cold night! Do you wish me to collect the body myself as I have had the contagion?"
"Indeed not, Lord Faramir!" Devorin protested. "You could injure yourself bringing it up the stairs. Two of the servants can be persuaded to do it. If they try to refuse I'll threaten to lock them in with the rotting carcass!"
"They will need quarantining afterwards," Faramir warned, inwardly groaning at the further rough treatment that was most likely to be metered out to the King. "I will go and prepare now .It should be dark soon."
"A servant will tell you when all is ready," Devorin replied, " I think I will retire too. Come, Hanna!" He rose to his feet, pulling a giggling and obviously tipsy Hanna with him. Her gown was now off her shoulders and almost down to her waist, displaying a large expanse of curvaceous bare flesh.
He followed them from the room and made his way to his bedchamber and sat on the bed debating what to do next. He could only hope that Aragorn would neither come round nor be further injured when he was brought to him. If he could only leave with him, he would ride as swiftly as he could to the cave where he had concealed his supplies and hope that they could remain there undetected.
He feared that it was already too late and he was indeed taking a corpse for burial, albeit a more dignified one than the traitors intended.
Then there was the problem of Elbeth. While she remained with the rebel lords, even if by some miracle he escaped safely with Aragorn, the King would never be secure, neither would Eldarion. Therefore, his only options were to either take her with them or kill her.
Killing her would be by far the safest and easiest option. She was too dangerous to live and how could he deal with a sick man and a demanding child who would most likely betray him however inadvertently? With a mother like Hanna and uncle like Fennas, she was most likely to grow up as evil and deranged as they !
She was his biggest obstacle now, as alive or dead, once her loss was discovered, his deception would be uncovered. His absence could be explained by some mishap befalling him, at least for a time, but she was their most valuable asset and once they discovered her body…
Faramir shuddered and gave a start. To what level had he sunk that such a thought should even cross his mind? His soul was lost indeed that he could even contemplate such an act! How could he kill a helpless innocent, and not just any child but his own niece? What manner of a father was he to think of harming any child?
Within less than twenty-four hours he had tortured, drugged and attempted to kill his liege lord and had thought of killing an innocent child! He had become what he most despised and was no better than one of the Dark Lord's minions!
Elbeth would have to come with him whatever the risks. He could only hope she would come willingly but if not, he would have to use the spider venom on her too, and smuggle her out and hide her somewhere before Aragorn was brought to him. He wished now that he had not thrown the needle away but he could always use the tip of his dagger.
If only Boromir had adhered to the Numenorean standards of chastity and fidelity! Even his father had never deviated from the moral ideals of their people and would never even have dreamt of taking his pleasure with such as Hanna!
He could now hear a mixture of giggles, grunts and groans coming from Devorin's nearby chamber. Faramir hoped a mixture of inebriation and lust would keep him and Hanna occupied for some time.
After making certain that no one was following him, he decided to try to discover where Elbeth was. She was not difficult to locate as he could hear her sobbing and banging on a door to be let out as soon as he turned into the next corridor.
"Release me!" she screamed, "Or when I'm queen, I'll cut your head off!"
Faramir was suddenly reminded of his brother, as a small boy throwing a similar tantrum and threatening to execute his tutor for refusing to let him miss lessons to watch the soldiers parading through the city after a rare victory. The reminder that she was not of Hanna's blood alone heartened him.
The key was in the lock so he unfastened the door and went in. It seemed that despite her youth, Elbeth had been given a huge and elaborately furnished bedroom to herself.
"Uncle Faramir!" she exclaimed," I don't like being shut in here. Let me out! And it's not fair you didn't help Strider!"
TBC
A/N
A very big thank you to all my much appreciated reviewers. You have now helped me pass the 500 reviews mark, which amazes me after only 24 chapters! I am amazed to see that you come from so many countries. Do I have any African readers, I wonder.
A special thank you to Steelelf for the touching poem.
I have not found this story any more pleasant to write than it is to read.Sometimes my Muse leads me in strange directions.