GONDOR'S REJUVENATION
Chapter Two
The Next Evening
Beregond stared across the River Anduin watching as night descended upon Minas Tirith. The tower of Ecthelion, now engulfed in moonlight, appeared as a white marble beacon, guiding those towards the white city.
Though he could only see two of the seven towers, he knew the nightly ritual of the lighting of the lamps had begun.
After he became captain of Faramir's elite guard and moved to Ithilien, Beregond thought he would miss the activity of Minas Tirith. Upon his first night in the newly declared princedom, all doubts were dispelled and Beregond realized he had become part of history and the rebuilding of Ithilien.
Behind him several guards moved across the newly built courtyard that now connected the white house with other structures. The sounds of building were nonstop, even at this late hour. What was happening in Ithilien, especially Emyn Arnen, was miraculous.
A cool gentle breeze blew in from the river and Beregond glanced upwards and stared at the constellations. How things had changed in just a short time. Had he remained in Minas Tirith, he and his two sons would have spent much of the night stargazing. However the war had changed his sons' priorities.
Bergil at one time had wanted to become an herbalist, but now had chosen to follow in his father's footsteps and join the White Company when he came of age. When the family moved to Ithilien, Borlas discovered the lure of the water. Beregond smiled to himself. His youngest would prefer to watch ships moving along the Anduin than eat.
"Enjoying the night?" he heard his brother ask. Beregond turned. Iorlas stood with a glass of wine in each hand. He offered him one while staring at their surroundings.
Beregond took the glass. "Now you understand the reason I moved to Ithilien."
"I assumed it was your devotion to Prince Faramir," Iorlas answered. He glanced across the river looking at the white city. After a long moment of silence, Iorlas said, "You cast a long shadow in the citadel, my brother. Many still speak of your bravery and courage against Lord Denethor's madness."
"I did what any loyal Guard of the Citadel would have done," the elder brother said, recalling the last moments of the late steward's life. "Lord Denethor was not himself. How it pained me to witness his descent into madness. If Faramir had perished in those flames, Gondor would have lost everything."
At the mention of Faramir's name, Iorlas' demeanor changed. "Beregond, I know how well you respect Prince Faramir, but there are rumors…" he paused, glanced over his shoulder, and then lowered his voice. "Have you heard what happened during the last fiefdom council?"
"Last council was six months ago, my brother," Beregond declared. "What troubles you over a council…"
"There were accusations leveled at Prince Faramir," Iorlas answered. "Some accused him of being bewitched by the elves."
"Who dares make such an outrageous statement?"
"Outrageous? Lord Denethor made such a statement. Thus the reason the captain-general was sent to Rivendell."
"It's a slanderous lie! Boromir made the decision, not the steward! The captain-general believed the journey to be long and dangerous; therefore, he demanded the task himself. As heir, Boromir claimed it was his right." Beregond angrily paced the length of the balcony's railing. "For as long as I can remember, Faramir's courage has always been questioned. He was never judged on his own merits. How quickly they forget his bravery during the war."
"None question his bravery, brother."
"Then why should jealous idle gossip concern you?"
Iorlas sighed deeply. "Beregond, I will not hide my feelings. I do not like these strange beings living in Gondor and taking our lands."
"Taking our lands?" Beregond asked, surprised at his brother's absurd statement. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or be angry. "These strange beings as you call them are the king's friends and have offered their services to Gondor. We should be thankful for their generosity instead of finding fault."
"Our lands are being seized. You have only to look at Ithilien to realize this. Only this morning, you said the prince wants to give more land to the elves. Why? Do they need another settlement so quickly?"
"Prince Legolas and the elves have been Ithilien's salvation. If you were not so judgmental, you would realize how much they have accomplished here in such a short time. The same has been said of the dwarves working in Minas Tirith. None in Gondor could match their success in such a short time."
"The dwarves and elves could take turns making the white tree grow in Mordor and it would not matter to some, especially to those who mistrust them. Many remain resentful over the decision to give away our lands to these creatures." Iorlas then revealed what had taken place in council. "King Elessar abruptly ended the meeting because of the outrage."
Beregond was stunned. Faramir had not told him. Then again, Beregond had not asked, and the prince was not the type to gossip. Iorlas, on the other hand, could never keep a secret. "What happened?"
"Remember, I mentioned someone had accused Prince Faramir of being bewitched by the elves?"
Beregond nodded, wanting to know the origin of the vicious rumor.
"Lord Golasgil said it. He accused Faramir of being under an elven spell. He also demanded every elf and dwarf expelled from Gondor. Had Lord Duinhir not held Prince Imrahil, the prince of Dol Amroth would have struck Lord Golasgil for the insult. King Elessar was so outraged that he threatened sanctions against anyone who insulted his friends, their people, or their families."
"Golasgil insulted the elves! In the king's presence!" Beregond asked, shocked that a powerful fiefdom lord who bravely fought in the war would speak such ignorance in public. Golasgil had known the king's relationship with them. What was the man thinking? "Has Golasgil become a fool?"
"Fool or not, Golasgil's opinion is shared by others," Iorlas admitted. "When the dwarfs were given a parcel of the Pelennor Fields and the elves given Ithilien land, they believed the descendants of the rightful owners were slighted."
"Another vicious rumor, Iorlas. The descendants of those who did not wish to return to Ithilien have been richly compensated. The dwarves are only temporary residents on the Pelennor Fields. Master Gimli desires to return to the Glimmering Caves once the work is completed in Minas Tirith. Those who live nearby know this."
"Perhaps it is you, my brother, who has heard rumors. When I traveled to Ithilien, I overheard a conversation between two men. They were plotting to drive the dwarves and elves from our lands using any means possible."
"They speak treason," the former guard of the citadel declared.
"They believed they are being loyal to Gondor," his brother countered.