Chapter 4

Faramir brushed the third tear from his eye. He was a stupid child! Just like his father said! Men don't cry!

He flew the door to his room open, running. He collapsed on the bed, and regardless of the adage, he wept.

He didn't want to admit that what the soldiers said had some truth. His father was not a pig! His father loved him, like Boromir promised he did! His father loved him. Denethor loved him!

He couldn't bring himself to believe it.

It was a few hours before Faramir realized his duties. He was supposed to be studying in the instructor's office. But, he couldn't focus on the history of Gondor when the present of his life was bothering him so much.

A knock sounded on the door. "My lord, Faramir?"

Captain Ceredon.

Faramir started. Did Captain Ceredon know that he had listened to their conversation? He was so small and so quiet Faramir thought that he couldn't be heard. Securing his battle armor, Faramir wiped the final remnants of tears and opened the door. "Captain," he sourly greeted.

The captain held a folded piece of paper forward. "Your brother instructed me to give this to you."

"Thank you. Is there anything else?"

The Captain looked at Faramir questioningly. "No."

The conversation ended when Faramir slammed the door shut. He unfolded the note. His brother was nice about his disability and used small words.

Faramir, I am sorry about what Father said to you. He is just tired. Meet me in the kitchen right now and I will have Cook give you a treat. I love you, brother. Boromir.

Faramir smiled. Still wearing his armor, he hurried down the halls and into the kitchen, but when he got there, a surprise awaited him.

No one was present in the kitchen. The cook was gone, Boromir was nowhere to be found, and nothing was cooking, though the midday meal was approaching hastily.

"Boromir?" Faramir called. "Boromir? Cook? Hello! Is anyone in here?"

He wandered the kitchen, looking for any signs of life other than the clucking chickens in a cage in the corner. The pigs honked and the cows mooed, but no humans spoke.

"Hello?" Faramir repeated.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

Faramir spun around, afraid.

"Ah! My lord, Faramir!" the cook bowed, a long coil of rope in his hands. He looked nervous.

"Hello. Have you seen my brother?"

"Well, now that you mention it, no, I haven't. Are you looking for him?"

"Yes, he said that he ordered you to make me a treat."

"Oh. Yes, well here it is."

"A raspberry tart!" Faramir exclaimed. "My favorite!" He belatedly realized that Cook lied about seeing Boromir. If he hadn't seen him, he wouldn't have known Boromir wanted the treat for Faramir. He supposed a servant could have been sent in Boromir's stead; Cook wasn't one to volunteer information. But, at the same time, Boromir had said to meet him in the kitchen.

"That's what your brother said!" the Cook said, snapping Faramir back into reality. "Now, come with me!"

"Can't I have it?"

"Just come with me!"

Faramir followed, though his suspicions were heightening. The Cook took him by the hand and hastily led him to the back of the kitchen.

"They'll be looking for you soon enough."

"Who?" Faramir asked.

Captain Ceredon appeared from nowhere, rope in his hands. A soldier was behind him, holding two pieces of long cloth.

"What's going on?" Faramir asked, fear in his heart. He tried to back away, but the Cook had him hard.

"Your father's loyal soldiers will be here soon enough," Captain Ceredon answered.

Cook gagged Faramir with his free hand.

Faramir tore at it, but the soldiers had his hands. After removing his livery, they bound his hands behind him. They tied his ankles next when his boots were hidden. Another rope wrapped around his arms and chest, tied tightly. The cloths were put to use immediately following. They blindfolded him, gagged him, though through the whole ordeal, Faramir did not make it easy for them…at all. They picked him up, Captain Ceredon ordering his men around.

"Take him to where we planned to. If he makes too much noise, silence him more."

Faramir heard the footsteps of a man fleeing, leaving the two to carry him. He struggled in their grasp, using his body like a spring to lessen their hold. Nothing worked.

He screamed through the gag. What was misunderstood to those that heard him was that he was calling his brother, knowing that even if the note was a lure, he had to be somewhere. Boromir always came to the help of his brother. Where was he?

He wrestled as the men took him somewhere unknown, screaming the whole time. He was punched in the head.

"Shut up already! No one's coming to help you, you son of a pig!"

That made Faramir scream more.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, he heard a door open in a cold room. Faramir was dropped on a stone floor, his head pounding from impact.

"Welcome home!" Cook mocked, kicking the boy.

"What are you doing?" the soldier demanded.

"I'm making his father pity him, for once!" Cook spat.

The door closed, and Faramir was alone. Alone.

He laid there, on his side, pondering his circumstances.

Captain Ceredon had kidnapped him. Ceredon had been the one to swear revenge on Father. What was it he said? "There is only one way to hurt a father."

Faramir didn't understand. Why would a son tied up hurt someone? Unless…they planned to kill him.

Faramir's fear grew. They wanted payment. They could get payment; the exchange of a son's life for the fortunes of the Steward. He would like to think that most fathers would risk their lives to get their sons back, but Denethor was not that type of father. Boromir even admitted it.

Would his father let him die? Was his money so important to him that it was worth the life of his flesh and blood?

Faramir felt tears come. They were jealous tears; unmerciful, hot, angry, furious, unloved tears. Faramir was not worth the riches of Denethor, but there was another son that was. If their places had been exchanged, Faramir knew that Denethor wouldn't hesitate in coming to Boromir's rescue, even if it reduced him and his sons to beggars in the streets. But Denethor would sit down and contemplate it when he found Faramir on the ground, bound, and his life threatened.

Faramir pulled at the ropes, though the coarse twine gnawed his wrists and made them ache. He rubbed his temple against the hard floor, trying desperately to remove the blindfold so he could see where he was. The gag was no use.

He struggled until he could no longer.

He let his body fall limp, crying. He murmured through the gag, "Boromir, come get me! Boromir, please! Please hurry!"