First off, thank you all for your amazing reviews! They build me up and encourage me, even force me to write better, so thank you! Secondly, this chapter does have some mention of amputation. Nothing is overly described; I just thought that some of you would want to know in case you're squeamish. Thank you and enjoy!

Chapter 8

"Boromir! My lord Boromir!"

Boromir turned at the sound of his name as he saddled his horse. No other servants were present as they were all ordered to look for Faramir. "Captain Ceredon!"

"My lord, some of the men are talking. I grieve to tell you this news."

"What news?"

Ceredon looked painfully at the heir of the Stewardship. He looked downward, and then upward, as if refocusing after a horrible thought. "Some of my men are furious with your father with his negligence in changing the army's wages…"

"I have guessed that," Boromir interrupted.

"Some of my men are angry. I grieve to inform you that they have involved me in the plot. Some of the men took your brother to Osgiliath, to hold him hostage, to get even with your father."

Boromir's heart stopped. His temper snapped. He snatched Ceredon's collar and pushed him against the stable wall, frightening the horses. "If you are lying, I swear…"

"My lord, I swear I tell you the truth."

Boromir let him down. "Where in Osgiliath do they have him?" his voice reeked with pain.

"In one of the abandoned houses, I will take you there."

"I shall inform my father."

"No! The men said if they discovered that if the army came or anyone higher than a soldier was present, they'd cut off one of Lord Faramir's fingers and send it to your father as a warning."

Boromir's eyes became like hot fires. His face wreathed in flame. "I swear over my life, if they lay a hand on him…"

"They will not if we do exactly what I say. I know where they have him. They were foolish enough to tell me, thinking I would agree with them. We must approach Osgiliath in the dark of night. We can strike while they are asleep, take your brother, and go. I know the names of the soldiers involved. I will turn them in to your father when Faramir is safe."

"Why should I trust you? Weren't you the one to leave in anger when my father refused the proposition?"

Ceredon acted as if he had suffered a major blow, as if Boromir had ripped open a healing wound. "My lord, I ask for forgiveness for my outburst. Now, a child, your brother, is suffering torture in Osgiliath. This is the only way we may bend the rules and get him back without the torture."

Boromir couldn't rid the image from his mind. His brother's eyes were looking up at his captor, pleading, begging, and fearing. He was pinned down by at least two of them. One had his hand placed on a stump, Faramir's last finger extended out. The grueling, devilish man held a knife close to it. Faramir was pleading for mercy. When the blade was brought down, an agonizing scream of pain was all that Boromir could hear.

He would not let that happen. He'd rather be torn in half than see Faramir hurt.

"Alright, Captain. We'll do it your way. But we leave now."

"Excellent, your lordship."

Ceredon smiled as he mounted the horse while Boromir fretted over his brother. It had worked splendidly.

Now, he would have both of the sons. Even if the youngest didn't matter to the Steward, he was useful for luring Boromir into the trap.

His concocted plan was nearly spent.

Boromir hated riding in the dark of night. The full moon was his only light to guide his way. It set him on edge.

The whole ride, he couldn't stop thinking of Faramir. Every time he thought to focus on pleasant thoughts, he convinced himself that he would not. Not while his brother was in captivity.

As he thought of his brother, memories unavoidably sailed through his mind. He held back tears.

"Boromir," Faramir asked his brother, "what was Mother like?"

It was one of Boromir's free afternoons that he promised to spend with his brother. They were shooting in the archery range. Boromir was thirteen, Faramir was eight.

Boromir knocked an arrow and drew. "I don't know. She was kind. She sung us to sleep at night."

"I remember the tunes she sang. They were lullabies."

Boromir nodded. "I'm too old for lullabies now." He shot, missing the target by a few inches. Boromir cursed under his breath. "I prefer the sword."

"Was she pretty?"

Boromir shrugged as he drew another arrow. Faramir was sitting on the side, watching his brother closely. "I don't know. She was as pretty as most women get I guess."

"Did she love me?"

"Stop asking such stupid questions."

"But I don't remember her!" Faramir whined with a sad tone.

It made Boromir want to answer him. "She was very beautiful. She was kind, loving, and compassionate. She loved music and writing things. You're right. Those were lullabies she sung to us. And she loved both of us."

Faramir smiled. "I'm glad she loved us. I'm glad that you remember her. You're all I have left of her."

Boromir shot the arrow. It landed a couple inches from the center. Boromir, because of Faramir's comment, felt a sudden feeling of love for his brother. He knelt down, grasped his brother's shoulders, and promised, "And I'll always be here, Faramir. I promise."

Did Boromir now break that promise? He wasn't there to protect Faramir from being taken. Would rescuing his brother be enough to fulfill the oath?

They arrived in Osgiliath quietly, some guards asleep or starting to fall that way.

"This way, my lord."

Ceredon left their horses by the gate, made Boromir dismount and follow him across the stony streets. They dodged into alleys whenever a soldier marched through the streets, making Boromir wonder how his brother must've been suffering, under such cruel guards, however many there were.

"Ceredon, where's my brother?"

"In that tower, my lord," answered Ceredon, pointing to a two-story house. "We are almost there."

They flew across the street and Ceredon opened the door. "My lord, leave your weapons in the next room. They said any weapons and your brother will…"

"I know what they will do, Ceredon!" Boromir, helpless, unstrapped his belt and unsheathed his daggers, tossing them to the floor, the heirloom he received at Induction flying with them. His sword that his father gave him when he was fifteen was tossed along with them. "It is done."

"Good."

They climbed the stairs.

Faramir panicked when the murmurs he had heard entered the room.

Faramir saw the two soldiers enter the room.

"Be quiet, you snake!" one ordered, staying by the door.

The other stomped toward Faramir. With each step, Faramir grew more scared.

The knife his captor was holding was held at his neck. Faramir squeaked, whimpered, and shook. The soldier grabbed his locks of his auburn hair and pulled back. "Be quiet."

Footsteps clomped up the stairs. Faramir waited. He heard voices. The door opened and the guard attending the door leaned out.

Boromir watched as Ceredon touched the knob to the door leading to the upper room. "Remember, Boromir. Your brother's life is in one thousand silver coins."

"Yes, we received the ransom note. I want to see him."

Ceredon opened the door. A soldier stuck his face out and panicked. "Yes Ceredon?"

Boromir started when Ceredon snatched his soldiers and pushed him forward.

Ceredon rapidly ordered, "Let us in. We have him."

"What?" Boromir demanded as Ceredon and the other one hurled him inside.

Boromir's eyes fell instantly upon his bound brother, a knife pointed to his neck. His eyes were just as Boromir imagined they would be…only worse. Faramir pleaded, ignoring the gag, for help. It all sounded like frightened, sad cries.

"Faramir!" Boromir's voice cracked. Two tears slid down his face. His temper boiled, a dose of love and protection fueling adrenaline. "Get the knife away from him!" he shouted. He leapt for his brother, but four arms held him fast.

"Not so fast, your lordship!" Ceredon slurred.

Boromir snapped. He bellowed, "You were behind this the whole time! Don't you dare touch my brother!"

"Calm down, Boromir," Ceredon mocked.

A heavy metal object hit the back of Boromir's head.

The last thing Boromir saw that night was his brother looking at him.

I'm with you now, brother.