MIDDANGARD (A Lord of the Rings Fan Fiction)

Chapter 13: The Way of the Samurai

JohnsonX returned to the spy-room with news of the victory and of Berto’s death. Fredo, Berto’s brother, slowly lowered himself to the floor and hung his head. Carmellita cringed. Tomaso and Bobio remained silent. They had just lost their uncle, but then again their father had been missing these last five years, a fact they had never really recovered from or accepted. A flood of mixed emotions filled their heads.

With Goblers posted perhaps 200 yards from the building, there would be no time to mourn their losses. Immediately, the leaders set into motion the plan that had been decided upon just moments before.

In little over an hour, all the various assigned tasks had been carried out.

Wil took part in none of it. He positioned himself on the balcony out of the way of the frantic activity below. Part of his mind registered the movement on the first floor. Part gazed absentmindedly out a clear glass wall, facing the grounds that fronted the building. It was a beautiful autumn day. Berto had choreographed for himself a beautiful death. Problem was, Wil preferred ugly life for his father.

He was not ready to let his dad go gloriously to the next world.             

He still had questions to ask, missed opportunities to make up for...

One or two softball games that should have been played...

A long hug that had gone ungiven…

Such a beautiful day! Ruined by sadness, bleak, wordless sadness.

A blurred figure stood at Wil’s side where just seconds before he had been alone. A man spoke a few words in a low voice. He recognized that it was Malcolm, but the words had not really reached him. Wil tried to concentrate.

"... It’s yours now," Malcolm was saying.

"Sorry. I didn't..."

"That’s OK", Malcolm began again.

"I thought you might want these. Berto had a cross on his neck and a small rosary in a pouch, in his pocket. One of the work crews has already buried our fallen in the enclosed courtyard and camouflaged the location. I recovered Berto’s bat and Gruber’s Samurai Sword...

They are yours now."

"Thanks, Malcolm. I know I should be down there helping out, but I feel like I’m floating in molasses right now."

"Shall I hold these things for you?”

"I’ll take the small stuff and the bat... 34 inch, slow fired…” Wil muttered absently to himself...

“You take the sword. I'm sure that's what he'd want."

Malcolm’s eyes widened ... surprised...

Few things had real value anymore besides food and other necessities. However, the Balworg’s sword was priceless.

"What would I do with that sword, Malcolm? I'd like to keep that bat of his though. It holds meaning."

"That sword is a treasure, Wil."

"No, Malcolm. He treasured friendship. So do I."

Wil’s eyes seemed to be looking at something far off in space, but he added, "How long before we leave this place? I don't think I can stand to stay here much longer."

"Soon," Malcolm replied. "My men are waiting below. Otherwise, the floor down there is without activity. Most of the Citizens must be already moving towards the tunnel."

"Malcolm, would you mind teaching me some of those fencing moves? I don't want that sword but I’m pretty sure knowledge in that area will come in handy fairly soon. Also, I’d like something useful to keep my mind sharp during this little expedition we will be taking."

Eyes raised hopefully, Malcolm answered quickly.

"How about we set aside the hour before sundown, each day?"

The older man liked the training idea.

It would give him a way to honor Berto’s last request.