Chapter 23: The Horn of Gondor

It was now February and it had been seven months since Boromir's departure from Minas Tirith. Minas Tirith was now one of the only free kingdoms of Men. Osgiliath was regularly under siege by the Enemy. Faramir and his men managed to drive the Enemy back, but they were only temporary victories. Faramir began to worry for Gondor as his father, Lord Denethor did nothing to avail the people. He sat in the marble halls of the Citadel, his mind poisoned by the burning of Gondor he saw in the Palantir. Although Denethor knew of this impending doom, he would do nothing but scoff at Faramir's attempts to hold the kingdom. Faramir also worried for his brother. Boromir had not returned since the summer, and Faramir feared that he would never return.

He could not bear to burden Pharazphel with the news of her husband's fall, if that ever came to be. Pharazphel already was under strain as she was nearing the delivery of her child. Faramir's visits had become scarce and he was concerned for the welfare of his beloved sister-in-law and her child. On a cold winter afternoon, Faramir managed to visit the Houses of Healing. Pharazphel sat on a feather bed and there were multiple pillows around her. Her belly protruded from under her blankets. Faramir took notice that she had swelled in size since his last visit.

"Pharazphel, my sister," Faramir greeted.

"You are greatly missed, brother," Pharazphel said. "You look terrible."

Faramir laughed merrily. "I see you still have your senses. You look positively radiant."

"Oh, you are too kind, brother," Pharazphel said. "Let us not be dishonest."

"You look as if you have a watermelon in your belly," Faramir laughed.

Pharazphel chuckled. "I feel as if I am growing a watermelon in my belly. If only I had Boromir here, I would berate him for what he has done to me. I am a woman of Rohan, taught to ride and wield a blade, and here I sit growing fat."

"If ever there was a thing to be feared, it is the wrath of a woman of Rohan," Faramir said. "I would fear for my life if I were Boromir or Sauron's hordes."

Pharazphel laughed, but her smile faded quickly.

"What troubles you, sister?" Faramir asked.

"I do not deny it that I am grateful and blessed to be carrying Boromir's child, but I find myself weary of skulking in these halls," Pharazphel said. "I have been taught all my life to ride and wield blade. Now that my country is in peril as well as Boromir, I do not wish to sit here any longer."

Faramir took her hands. "I know your desire to ride into battle to defend your country and to stand at Boromir's side, but you must not think of that now. You must think of your duty to your child. Your child needs you until Boromir returns. That is your charge now."

"Will I never have the chance to ride to battle? I am ashamed to sit here whilst Boromir is in peril as well as my country," Pharazphel said.

"You need not feel any shame, my sister," Faramir said. "You are bearing a child, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. You are the most valiant woman I know. You proved your courage against Sauron's hordes before. I believe that you will have that chance again before the end."

"When the time comes, I will gladly stand by Boromir's side and yours in battle for Rohan and Gondor," Pharazphel said.

"We will gladly have you at that time," Faramir said. "I am certain that your child will learn courage from you as you did from your mother."

Faramir wanted to speak again, but he stopped. He could hear a familiar sound echoing through the city. It felt like it rang through the clouds and carried through the air. It was as if the winds had music in them. Despite this sweet sound, Faramir knew it meant something was amiss.

"What is it? Faramir?" Pharazphel said asked.

"It is the Horn of Gondor," Faramir said. "Boromir's horn."

The Company had stopped at Amon Hen where they made camp and debated the next step of their journey. Boromir had hoped that the Fellowship would accompany him to Minas Tirith. Alas, it seemed almost certain that the Fellowship was going to follow Frodo into Emyn Muil and on through the Dead Marshes into the Mountain of Fire. Boromir wanted to keep his pledge to protect the Ring-bearer, but he knew he could not disappoint his father. He also feared for Pharazphel, as he knew that by this time their child would arrive soon. Boromir was determined to take the Ring to Gondor and save his people any way he could. Boromir noticed that Frodo was wondering aimlessly through the woods. Boromir followed the Hobbit, hoping to coax him into lending him the Ring for the sake of his people.

Boromir gathered some sturdy branches for the fire as he approached the Hobbit.

"None of us should wander alone," he said. "You least of all. So much depends on you. Frodo?"

Frodo did not speak as he sat on a fallen stone statue.

"I know why you seek solitude. You suffer day by day. Are you sure you do not suffer needlessly? I wish to help you. You need counsel in your hard choice. Will you not take mine?"

"I know what you would say," Frodo said. "And it would seem like wisdom, but for the warning in my heart."

"Warning? Against what?" Boromir asked.

"Against delay. Against the way that seems easier. Against, if it must be said, against trust in the strength and truth of Men," Frodo replied.

"Yet that strength has protected you in your little country, though you knew it not," Boromir said.

"I do not doubt the valor of your people. But the world is changing. The walls of Minas Tirith are strong, but not strong enough. If they fail, what then?"

"We shall fall in battle valiantly. There is still hope that they will not fail."

"Not while the Ring lasts."

Boromir's eyes lit up as Frodo mentioned the Ring. "Ah! The Ring! Could I not have sight of it again?"

Frodo drew back, as if protecting the Ring. "It is best that it should lie hidden."

"As you wish, but can I not speak of it? For you seem ever to think only of its power in the hands of the Enemy. The world is changing, you say. Minas Tirith will fall, if the Ring lasts. But why? Certainly if the Ring were with the Enemy. But why, if were with us?"

"Were you not at the Council?" Frodo asked sharply. "Because we cannot use it, and what is done with it turns to evil."

"So you go on," Boromir said. "Gandalf, Elrond – all these folk have taught you to say so. Yet I often doubt if they are wise and not merely timid. But to each his own kind. We of Minas Tirith have been staunch through long years of trial. The Ring would give me power of Command. How I would drive the hosts of Mordor, and all men would flock to my banner!"

Boromir stopped gathering firewood and gazed at Frodo. "Surely you see it, my friend? That you are afraid. But it is really your good sense that revolts?"

"No, I am afraid," Frodo replied. "But I am glad to hear you speak so fully. My mind is clearer now."

"Then will you come to Gondor?" Boromir asked, his voice filled with hope. "My city is not far now. You need rest before your venture, if go you must."

"You misunderstand me," Frodo said as he pulled back. "The Ring must be destroyed. There is no other way."

Boromir tossed the firewood to the ground. "I ask only for the strength to defend my people!"

The Hobbit drew back in fear of the tall and strong man.

"If you would but lend me the Ring?" Boromir asked.

"No!" Frodo cried.

"Why do you recoil? I am no thief," Boromir said.

"You are not yourself," Frodo said.

"What chance do you think you have?" Boromir asked. "They will find you, they will take the Ring, and you will beg for death before the end."

Frodo did not speak and turned away from Boromir. Boromir face twisted in anger as he advanced on Frodo.

"Fool! It is not your say by unhappy chance. It could've been mine! It should be mine! Give it to me!" Boromir shouted.

"No!" Frodo cried.

Boromir was on top of Frodo, struggling to take the Ring from the Hobbits grasp. Fiercely, Boromir wrestled for the Ring, but the Hobbit was quick. Frodo slipped the Ring from its chain onto his finger and disappeared.

"I see your mind! You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us! Curse you, curse you! And all the Halflings!" Boromir shouted.

Boromir tripped and fell into a heap. It was then that his sudden madness was lifted, as if it were fog. Boromir looked up in horror to find Frodo was no where to be found. He was ashamed of himself for letting madness overcome him.

"What have I done? Please, Frodo," Boromir said sorrowfully. "Frodo, I'm sorry! Frodo, come back!"

Boromir got to his feet to find Frodo, but just as he rose, an arrow flew past his head, burying itself in a tree. Boromir turned to find the same creatures who had attacked Pharazphel. The Uruk-Hai, bearing the White Hand of the traitor Saruman. Boromir threw a knife at an Uruk-Hai. The knife buried itself in the Uruk's neck. Boromir ran forward and retrieved the knife. He had to find the Hobbits and the rest of the Company before it was too late.

Boromir slashed and parried his way through the army of Uruk-Hai.

"Find the Halflings!" shouted the Uruk-Hai.

Boromir stabbed an Uruk and continued to run. He hoped that he had not run out of time. He hoped that the Uruks would not find Frodo, especially after what he had done to the Hobbit.

Boromir continued to run and engage the Uruk-Hai as he ran through the forest, searching for the Hobbits. Just then, he heard the clear voices of Merry and Pippin and his heart lifted. Boromir flew through the woods, knowing he was closer to finding the two Halflings. He found Merry and Pippin in the middle of a swarm of Uruks. One Uruk-Hai was flying toward them, an ax raised to kill. Boromir jumped between the creature and the Hobbits and brought it down. Merry and Pippin fought beside Boromir, stabbing Uruk-Hai and throwing rocks at them. Boromir brought the Horn of Gondor to his lips and sounded the horn three times, hoping the Company would come. Boromir threw another knife at an Uruk and slashed another. Again and again Boromir called for the Company with his horn. Alas, no one came, save for more Uruk-Hai. Merry and Pippin jumped on top of an Uruk, stabbing it several times until the creature fell.

"Run! Run!" Boromir cried.

Boromir ran behind Merry and Pippin as he continued to engage more of Saruman's hordes. The Hobbits threw rocks at the Uruk-Hai as Boromir brought down one after another. Suddenly, an arrow lodged itself into Boromir's shoulder. Boromir drew back in surprise. He fell to his knees in pain as Merry and Pippin looked on in horror. Boromir jumped back to his feet and continued to battle more Uruk-Hai that engaged him. Boromir turned to late to find another arrow that lodged into his left shoulder, sending Boromir to his knees again. Boromir was in terrible pain, but he could not falter. He looked at Merry and Pippin and knew he had to go on.

I cannot fail, he thought. I must save the Hobbits. I must return to Pharazphel and our child.

Spurred on by his promise, Boromir battled on. He slashed an Uruk-Hai across the belly. He parried a blow from another and stabbed it. His enemies were gathered in a pile around him. Boromir's horn was now cloven in two. Another arrow lodged itself into his leg, bringing Boromir to his knees one last time. Merry and Pippin drew their swords to defend their fallen friend, but to no avail. As they charged forward, they were snatched by the Uruk-Hai and carried away. Boromir could only watch as the Hobbits were carried off. The large Uruk-Hai notched another bow, prepared to deliver a killing blow. Before he could fire the fatal shot, Aragorn leaped on top of him.

Aragorn tackled the creature and wrestled the bow away. The Uruk threw Aragorn and trapped him against a tree with his shield. Aragorn escaped the shield and parried with the Uruk. The Uruk picked him up by his shirt and head-butted him. Aragorn kicked the Uruk and stabbed his knife into its knee. The Uruk growled as it drew the blade from its leg. It licked the blood away before throwing the knife at Aragorn, who blocked it with his sword. Aragorn slashed and parried with the Uruk until he cut off its left arm and stabbed it. The Uruk looked down in surprise before leaning in closer to give one final growl. Aragorn drew his mighty sword and beheaded the Uruk-Hai, sending it crumbling to the ground.

Aragorn ran forward and saw Boromir laying against a tree, his enemies piled at his feet.

"They took the little ones!" Boromir cried.

"Hold still!" Aragorn said.

"Frodo, where is Frodo?" Boromir asked.

Aragorn paused and then spoke. "I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him," Boromir said.

"The Ring is beyond our reach now," Aragorn told him.

"Forgive me. I did not see. I have failed you all," Boromir said.

"No, Boromir," Aragorn whispered. "You fought bravely. You have kept your honor."

Aragorn tried to remove the arrows, but Boromir pushed his hand away. "Leave it! It is over. The world of Men will fall, and all will come to darkness. My city to ruin."

"No!" Aragorn said. "I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall nor our people fail. But you will not die here. You must return to Minas Tirith, to your wife and child."

"I have failed them both," Boromir said.

"You have not," Aragorn said. "You will return to them, and you will see the White City again. Hold still."

Aragorn pulled the arrows free, one by one. Boromir cried out as he did. Aragorn turned to find Legolas and Gimli behind him.

"Legolas, Gimli, light me a fire. We must burn his wounds closed," Aragorn said.

As fast as they could, Legolas and Gimli drew up a small fire. Aragorn heated his sword until it glowed.

"Brace yourself, my friend," he said.

He placed the heated sword to Boromir's wounds as Boromir screamed. The wounds sizzled against the heat of the blade. Aragorn bound Boromir's shoulders and leg as Legolas approached him.

"Frodo and Sam have reached the Eastern Shore," Legolas said.

Aragorn did not move. He wanted to follow Frodo into the fires of Mordor, but he could not abandon Boromir, Merry, and Pippin.

"You mean not to follow them?" Legolas asked.

"It is clear that Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn said.

"Aragorn, you cannot linger. You must find the little ones," Boromir said weakly.

"But I cannot abandon you to your death," Aragorn said.

"You must find the Hobbits," Boromir said. "Go. Leave me. You cannot linger for me any longer. Take my horn and cast it down the river. Go now."

Aragorn knelt by Boromir and kissed his head. "May you be protected by the Men of Numenor, son of Gondor," Aragorn said.

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli retreated to the boats where they cast aside all they could spare, as they needed to travel light. As Boromir requested, Aragorn sent his horn down the river. He feared that would be his final promise to Boromir.

"We must find Merry and Pippin. We cannot abandon them to torment and death," Aragorn said. "Come! We have not much time. We shall be the Three Hunters and we will find Merry and Pippin. Let's hunt some Orc."

Aragorn dashed off into the forest. Legolas and Gimli followed after him. They were the Three Hunters, and they would go on to be a marvel among their kin.

Three days passed, Osgiliath was now being partly held by the Enemies of Mordor. Faramir continued to drive the Enemy back, but he knew they were biding their time until Gondor was at its weakest. Faramir had gone down to the River Anduin at dawn that day. It was there that he found something strange floating in the river. Faramir waded in the water and retrieved Boromir's broken horn. Faramir drew back in horror as he took the horn that was cloven in two. He paled as he looked at the horn. Tears fell from his eyes as he held the horn.

How can this be? He asked in shock.

Faramir then thought of Pharazphel waiting in the Houses of Healing. Although he feared to, he knew that she must know that Boromir had fallen. Faramir jumped upon his steed and raced back to Minas Tirith. He hurried into the Houses of Healing to find Pharazphel. Faramir did not wish to bring her pain, but he could not let her suffer in ignorance when Boromir did not return.

"Faramir!" Pharazphel greeted him warmly. "The child wants to come out soon. He is being very stubborn today."

Pharazphel was perturbed when Faramir did not smile. "Faramir? What is wrong?"

"I have tidings, Pharazphel," Faramir said. "I was wading on the River Anduin when I found something in the water."

"What have you found that makes you so gloomy?" Pharazphel asked.

Faramir showed her Boromir's broken horn. Pharazphel paled and trembled, hoping what she feared was not true.

"I do not know how this came to be, but I fear what it means," Faramir said sadly.

"No!" Pharazphel said.

"I'm afraid that Boromir is dead," Faramir said.

All of the color faded from Pharazphel's face as she looked at the broken horn. Boromir promised her that he would return to her and their child. She trembled as she knew now that Boromir would never return. Pharazphel screamed in agony, as if she had a blade stabbed through her heart.

Faramir embraced Pharazphel, sharing in her pain. He wished he could cry out as she did, but he could not. He had to honor his promise to Boromir and give Pharazphel hope. Suddenly, Pharazphel winced, and tightened her grasp on Faramir.

"Pharazphel, what is it?" Faramir asked.

"The child is being very stubborn," Pharazphel said.

Pharazphel cried out in pain, gripping Faramir's hand. Pharazphel was overcome by pain as she clutched her bulging stomach and fought to speak through her pain.

"Faramir, find Ioreth," Pharazphel said weakly.

"What is the matter, Pharazphel?" Faramir asked.

"The baby! The baby is coming!" Pharazphel screamed.

Without another word, Faramir sprinted through the House of Healing to find Ioreth.

He found the old healer tending a wounded soldier. "Ioreth! Lady Pharazphel needs you. The baby is coming!"

Ioreth followed Faramir and raced back to Pharazphel's bed. Pharazphel was writhing on the bed, and her screams filled the room. Sweat fell from her brow as her golden hair was matted to her head. Healers gathered around Pharazphel, preparing towels and hot water. Another gathered pillows and laid them behind Pharazphel.

"Captain Faramir, leave us," Ioreth said.

"I must not, Ioreth," Faramir said. "I promised my brother to look after Pharazphel and the child."

"You have kept your promise. You must leave us. Go!" Ioreth said.

Faramir could still hear the heartbreaking cries of Pharazphel as she labored on. Even as Ioreth closed the door, he could still hear Pharazphel wailing. With his brother gone, it was bittersweet that the child was coming. He only hoped that Pharazphel would have the strength to overcome her pain.

A/N: Dun dun dun! I had to leave it on a cliffhanger. Thank you for all of the support as I write this story. I appreciate it very much. Happy Reading!