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gondor treason conspiracy

These characters all belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. This story was written for pleasure and not for financial gain

Warning – This chapter contains violence and may distress sensitive readers

Treachery is noble when aimed at tyranny. - Pierre Corneille (1606–1684)

Dedicated to Raksha who helped me with a major plot feature of this chapter.

Faramir placed a finger to his lips. “If you can be very quiet and keep it a secret, I will take you out riding later,” he told the child, well aware that he was taking a great risk.

“Where will you take me?” Elbeth demanded.

“To see the woods by moonlight.” Faramir told her. “Do you know about the ruined cottage in the grounds?

“I play there when I’m bored. When they’re drunk, they don’t notice that I’m not there,” Elbeth replied.

“I want you to go there and wait for me. You must not tell anyone, though, it is our secret.” Faramir said, deciding to trust her. He went over to her window and looked out. It was almost dark and the moon was rising from behind the clouds “You need to wear your warmest clothes,” he told her. “It will be cold outside.”

“Very well but I want to go now!” Elbeth complained, “They leave me locked in here for hours while mummy is with Lord Dervorin. I wish she would play with me sometimes. My other mummy I used to live with after grandma died did.”

“Can you get out without anyone noticing?” Faramir asked, his heart going out to the lonely, neglected little girl.. “I promise we will play a game later if you can meet me without getting caught.”

“Of course I can, it is easy!” Elbeth boasted, “I just go through the door by the kitchens. It is never locked.”

The Steward glanced around the room for something warm for her to put on. He had noticed when he had been out riding earlier that the air was frosty. It promised to be an exceptionally cold night. Picking up a fur cloak from a chair, he noticed the Elessar stone lying discarded on her bedside table.

He picked it up and pinned it to the cloak then handed it to her. ”You had best wear this,” he said.

Elbeth nodded her agreement. “How do horses see in the dark?” she asked excitedly. “I’ve not been out riding at night before. It should be exciting! What about my horse? How do I saddle her without anyone knowing? I can’t reach yet to do it myself!”

“Horses are clever and know how to find their way. You can sit on my horse with me.” Faramir replied, wondering however she thought up so many questions.” I will join you in the old cottage very soon. Remember it is a secret! If anyone catches you, tell them you are playing hide and seek on your own! ”

He peered out of the door. Once satisfied no one was in sight, the Steward told Elbeth to go and wait for him. He then stuffed a pillow under the bedcovers to make the bed look occupied and turned the key outside again.

Thankful it seemed unlikely that he would need to use the spider venom on her, Faramir returned to his room and changed into his own travelling clothes. He took care to leave the room looking as if he intended to return with his nightshirt folded on the bed and his clothes for dinner left out. Solemnly, he buckled on his sword. At least it seemed reasonable to take it when riding out alone at night.

He paced the floor impatiently; terrified that something would go wrong. A chaos of troubled thoughts whirled round his brain. What if Aragorn really were dead? What if the venom failed to work properly? What if he moved and betrayed the fact he still lived? What if Elbeth betrayed him? What if he were followed? Maybe he should flee now and ride to Minas Tirith for help? However, it would surely be too late to save Aragorn by the time he returned.

He was so lost in thought that he hardly noticed that it had grown dark. He was startled when the knock came finally came on his door.

***

Aragorn had felt Faramir piece his neck with the needle. Suddenly, he found himself unable now to speak or even move a muscle. Completely paralysed, he was more a prisoner now than ever; trapped as he was not only in the cellar, but his own body too. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he came to his senses again only to find himself being roughly bundled into a sack.

“The sooner they dispose of this one the better!” he heard a voice saying.

“I think they mean to throw him down a well!” said a second voice.

“Better if they burned him before he infects us all!” the first voice said. “Or bury him deep!”

With his horror of confined spaces, this was his worse nightmare to be slowly suffocated. Faramir had known it. How could his Steward be capable of such depths of cruelty? Aragorn felt himself dragged across the floor and up the steps, the pain of his wounds becoming unbearable at such rough treatment. Then mercifully everything went black.

***

“Lord Faramir, they are awaiting you!” a servant’s voice called.

With pretended nonchalance, Faramir went downstairs where two frightened looking servants met him. Behind them, they dragged a large sack, bumping it roughly along the flagged stone floor.

Faramir struggled to remain impassive. To think that the High King, the Renewer of Gondor, was being treated with less reverence than a sack of grain! Even the corpse of a vagrant would be treated with more respect. His father had been most meticulous in such matters as had Aragorn.

“We will tie it on a packhorse for you.” one of the servants said, “Do you want us to come with you? His lordship said we should ask if you needed our help.” He looked terrified at the mere thought.

“I will manage well enough. I doubt the usurper’s carcass weighs very much. I was accustomed to dealing with bodies for burial when I served in Ithilien. Have my horse brought to the door!”

Faramir waited as they took the sack outside, reluctant to witness the spectacle of the King being so unceremoniously flung across the pack animal.

It was obvious they were terrified of Faramir desiring their company, which was exactly what he wanted. If anyone had come with him, he would have been obliged to kill them. Much as they deserved it for what they had done to Aragorn, he much preferred the law to mete out justice.

The servants returned. “All is ready for you now, my lord, “one said. “ The Lord of Lamedon bade me to tell you that when you return, a bath will be prepared for you and fresh clothing laid out. He suggests you burn what you are wearing now to avoid risking bringing the infection to any here!”

“Tell you master I will do as he bids. Remind him to have a girl waiting for me to take my pleasure with on my return. Tell him it may take me some time to dispose of the body where none will find it.” Faramir replied striding out through the doorway.

Mounting his horse, he took the pack animal’s rope and rode off into the night with it beside him.

He forced himself to appear relaxed and not to urge the horses to a trot while he made his way towards the ruined cottage.

To his horror, he suddenly heard the sound of approaching riders. He placed his hand on his sword and wheeled round to face them. The Lord of Lamedon and the burly servant who had been there when he had branded the King rode up alongside him.

Fosco drew up alongside him and smiled rather drunkenly, “We thought we’d come with you at least part of the way, Lord Faramir,” he said, “It seemed unfair to expect you to do this alone when you are still regaining your strength after Elessar’s ill treatment.”

“That is kind of you,” Faramir replied, “Do you not fear the contagion though?”

“The healers say it is unlikely that one can catch it out of doors,” Fosco replied,” Surely you would welcome some company?”

“Indeed I would,” Faramir replied, trying desperately to think of a plan. He suddenly reined to a halt. ”I think the corpse is slipping from the horse,” he said, “Will you hold my mount while I secure the ropes? He is rather skittish when the moon is full.”

He slid from Zachus’ back, made his way to the packhorse, and pretended to fiddle with the ropes securing the sack, all the while waiting to draw his sword. In his other hand, he held his dagger.

The servant took hold of Zachus’ bridle.

“We’ll have a nice drink together when we get back, Lord Faramir eh?” Fosco lurched towards Faramir drunkenly and attempted to embrace him.

Swiftly, Faramir turned and rammed his sword into Fosco’s guts. The Lord of Lamedon fell backwards with a cry a look of hurt surprise in his eyes. ” Traitor! Thought you…were my friend…” he gasped. “A curse upon you !”

Faramir’s only reply was to pull out his sword and stab him through the heart with it.

The servant belatedly tried to come to his master’s aid. Faramir was too quick for him and swiftly and unhesitatingly cut his throat.

The Steward wiped his blade on the grass, then without a second glance at the two men he had killed, retrieved the pack animal’s rope, and remounted Zachus.

It was the first time in his life, he had killed an unarmed man in cold blood and instead of guilt he felt a thrill of what could almost have been described as pleasure at the deed.

He listened carefully for any sign that he was being followed but there was none. It seemed that those who were sober were all too afraid of catching the fever from a corpse! Aragorn had told him the fever was transmitted through the breath of an infected person but even the healers laughed at such a notion. He could only hope it would be some time before Fosco’s absence was noticed.

The cottage was in sight of the house, although partially shielded by trees. Fortunately, no one seemed to have noticed a flickering candle in the ruins.

Elbeth ran out to meet him as he approached.” I was frightened you wouldn’t come!” she said, “It’s scary here, I don’t like it!”

“ I am sorry, Elbeth.” Faramir said sincerely. He dismounted and quickly slashed some holes in the sack with his dagger. He then lifted her up in front of him, wondering how much he could tell her and whether he would have to gag her to stop her crying out. “How would you like to come with me for a camping trip?” he asked. “We can play at being explorers!”

“I’d love to!” she replied, bouncing up and down in the saddle in her excitement. “Will you really take me away from them?”

“I shall take you tonight.” Faramir told her, “But you must be very good and quiet.“

“I will,” she replied, nestling closer to him. The Elfstone on her cloak shimmered in the moonlight. At least the precious gem was removed from the hands of the traitors! “What’s in the sack?” she asked, unable to contain her natural curiosity.

“Something very precious.” he told her. “Now you must be very quiet as we are playing hide and seek before we play explorers!”

“I love hide and seek!” she exclaimed delightedly.

“Quiet now, or we might be found!” he cautioned.

They rode on in silence for another mile or so. l Faramir finally felt he dared to stop and release Aragorn from the confines of the sack. He dreaded what condition the King would be in now.

TBC

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