Chapter 10

Boromir gathered from the sunlight peaking in that it was about noon when he next awoke.

He smiled at the memory of reviewing words and the Steward lineages with Faramir. They had fun joking and spelling and concocting memorable rhymes to remember their grandfathers. When they were finished, he allowed Faramir to sleep, his head resting on Boromir's lap, but that was around when three quarters of the night were spent.

It was now noon, and Faramir was not in the room with him.

"Faramir!" Boromir hissed. "Faramir!"

The chains that held Faramir's wrists were still strapped to the wall, but the chains were empty of a hostage.

Boromir panicked. "Faramir!" he shouted. "Guard! Guard!"

The burly man who was doorkeeper last night entered sourly. Boromir knew him by name: Garapen. "Keep quiet you idiot or I will gag you and make sure that with your bindings, you won't be able to move!"

"Where's my brother?"

"The Captain took him. That's all you need to know."

"Where is he?" Boromir demanded, pronouncing each syllable with the coldness of a death threat.

"He could be free, getting a meal, or be in another room. That's not for you to know."

"Take me to him!" Boromir demanded icily, shaking. "Now!"

"That's it!" Garapen exclaimed. He bounded in to bind Boromir more.

"Soldier! At ease!" Captain Ceredon snapped, just before he could reach the to-be-steward.

Boromir's eyes pierced Captain Ceredon, as if his eyes were arrows and a flank of them could kill his captor. Ceredon just stepped out of the way of the door. A boy was brought in, with shaggy, dark red hair. He was limp; conscious, but limp. His ankle was red and his body held more than one bruise.

"Faramir!" Boromir cried, taking his brother in his arms, careful for the wounds that coated Faramir. Boromir watched his brother grin at him as his wrists were again bound by iron.

"Enjoy your stay," Ceredon mocked as he left the room, the guards following.

Boromir waited until the doors were shut to speak.

"Faramir, what happened? What did they do to you?"

Faramir shuffled his body so he lay back against the wall, moaning. Boromir gently helped him, making sure his brother was comfortable. "Take it slowly, don't rush. That's it."

Faramir finally answered, "They took me out around dawn to the room downstairs. They-they gagged me and-and they beat me."

"What? Why? What did they want?"

Faramir leaned his head on Boromir's shoulder. "The location of the treasury. But that's all they want from me. They wanted me first but when they didn't get the ransom in twelve hours, they used me as bait for you, because everyone knows that Father loves you more than me. I'm sorry Boromir. If I were more careful and wasn't stupid enough to get kidnapped, you'd be alright. I'm sorry." Faramir's eyes got a little bit wet.

Boromir's anger surged. He didn't know if it was at his brother, his father, the lies, or his brother's heartless beatings. He didn't express anger now. His brother needed someone who stayed calm, level-headed. "Faramir, nothing that's happened so far is your fault, alright? If it's anyone's, it's mine. I should've seen you in the cart."

Faramir started. "You didn't know and I couldn't have warned you. This may be surprising, you don't notice absolutely everything."

Boromir let a laugh escape. But it was short lived. He brought his brother to him, letting him rest on his shoulder. Boromir rubbed the wounds on Faramir's shoulders, and while he slept, looked at the ankle. It was probably sprained. He couldn't walk on it for very long. He massaged it, hoping that his father would come looking for them. He knew he would, but confidence wasn't his strongest emotion right now.

Boromir turned to Faramir, whom he laid on the ground. His peaceful, sleeping face gave him comfort. Boromir whispered, "We're going to get out of here, Faramir. I promise you. We will get out of here."

Gandalf waited patiently until Beregond led him out of ear's reach.

Finally, they were sitting across from each other in the storage area of the wine tavern.

"Isn't this where most soldiers come? Why tell me secrets here?" Gandalf asked.

"Because no one comes to the storage room," Beregond answered. "They all demand their ale from the counter. The poor tender becomes so agitated and fatigued some days."

Gandalf chuckled. "I can imagine. Now, you said that you have some information that I may give to Lord Denethor."

Beregond clasped his hands and twitched nervously. He looked down, avoiding Gandalf's eyes.

"Well, speak up man!"

Beregond looked directly at Gandalf. "How do you convince a father to do something?"

Gandalf pinched his bushy eyebrows together. "I have no children .Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

Beregond nodded. "Well, ask it."

Gandalf repeated, "How do you convince a father to do something?"

Beregond looked hard at the wizard. "To take my child or kill him in front of me."

Gandalf nodded understandingly. "I see. Whoever wants something from Denethor is doing it by brutalizing his sons."

"And a father would blame himself for his sons' beatings if he could."

"What has Lord Denethor done in these days to have Faramir be taken, along with Boromir later?"

Beregond tapped his fingers on the wooden barrel on which he sat. "Two days ago, the captain, Captain Ceredon, petitioned a raise in pay for the soldiers. I don't know all the details, or either man's reasoning, but Denethor declined. I hear that Ceredon left in a fury, which is to be expected. I hear that he is very greedy. He's tried this trick of asking for a raise to hoard money in for himself before. He's even coaxed a few young men to share his opinion."

"You believe it to be the captain of the army who has the boys as hostages?"

"As well as some men who are more loyal to their captain than their Steward. Gandalf, I am afraid that something catastrophic will happen. They have both sons, which meant double the leverage. I am mostly worried about Faramir."

"Is it because all believe that the Steward loves the oldest more than the youngest?" Gandalf asked, becoming angry.

Beregond looked puzzled. "That is a popular belief, but doesn't he?"

"Denethor loves both sons, equally. It is a misunderstanding of his behavior that started the rumor. Denethor will fight to the death to save both sons, not just Boromir."

Beregond nodded, fearful of Gandalf's temper. He knew in his heart that what Gandalf was saying was true, but it was hard to think that Denethor didn't favor Boromir over Faramir. Denethor had proven that fact since the day that Faramir was born. If the favoritism was the misunderstood behavior that Gandalf was speaking of, then Denethor was giving a mighty display. "I am sorry Gandalf. But Faramir is weaker than his brother. He has not been trained with the sword. I am worried that he will not be able to fend for himself."

Gandalf calmed. "Faramir will manage. He has the stubbornness of his brother and father. Now, to finding them. Where do you think they have them?"

Beregond shook his head. "I have no idea. Can't you use a spell to find out?"

Gandalf looked surprised. "There may have been Men dabbling in sorcery who would use such a careless and useless trick, but I am a wizard, and a responsible wizard at that. I cannot use that spell."

Beregond stroked is bearded chin thoughtfully for a long time. "My captain has faith in me, Gandalf."

Gandalf started. "What on earth do you mean?"

Beregond leaned forward, his forehead nearly touching the brim of Gandalf's pointy hat. "If I can convince Captain Ceredon that I'm on his side, I can get close to the boys and let them know a rescue plan is being made. I'd be a man on the inside."

Gandalf shook his head. "It's too risky."

"Mithrandir, I know both the Captain and Boromir personally. We may never get a chance like this again! We must take it now!"

"And if they discover your involvement with me and the Lord Denethor?"

"I'll risk it. A soldier's life is to be laid down for his leaders. I would be honoring my oath."

"You have a family to return to! If they discover…"

"My wife knows the sacrifice of being a soldier's wife, Mithrandir, when the soldier is on and off the battlefield. My son Bergil will take honor in knowing that his father died for a worthy cause."

Gandalf was convinced, though not agreed. "Alright. Come with me to the Steward's Hall. We will inform Lord Denethor and if he gives you the order, you will do as planned."

"And if he doesn't?" Beregond questioned.

Gandalf sighed and lit his pipe. "Then, we pray for a miracle."