Son of Denethor

Chapter Four

I sling my pack over my shoulder and walk out the gate. When I turn around, Mother is watching out the single window of our cottage. A single tear runs down her cheek. I force a smile, then walk to where Faramir is waiting by the gate. "Where's your horse?" I ask, choking out the words.

He looks down at the ground. "Father told me I didn't deserve to bring it along. We'll have to walk." The corners of his lips lift ever so slightly, then drop again. His bow and quiver are slung over his shoulder, and he has his money pouch hanging off one hip. He pats it. "He did give me quite a lot of money, though."

We start walking back down the worn path. The townspeople give us strange looks, which we ignore. Nobody asks where we're going. I hold my head high, keeping my eyes straight ahead. My face is revealing no emotion, but the knots in my stomach make me want to vomit. I didn't eat anything for breakfast, but I doubt I'd be able to swallow anything right now.

As if sensing my thoughts, Faramir leans down. "Do you want me to pick up some bread from the baker?"

I shake my head. "We should save our money for when we actually need it." We both know that I really mean his money, as the small handful of coppers sewn into my waistband will only feed us for two meals. I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

By the time we reach the edge of Druadan Forest, the sun is high in the sky. We turn around and silently watch the way it reflects off of Minas Tirith, the light coming off the white spires and illuminating them. It's so beautiful. "I wonder if we'll ever see it again," I say softly. Faramir stays quiet. I turn away and start walking through the trees. Light dapples the ground, shining through the leaves. A light breeze rustles through the forest, lifting my hair gently off my shoulders. My feet sink into the moss with every step.

Faramir walks silently beside me. "Everything will be okay, Miriel." He lets out a breath. "I can hunt, you can cook. We won't starve, and the forest is like our second home as it is."

I hope with all my heart that he is right.

Hours later, we are still making our way through the undergrowth. It became thicker and wilder quite some time ago, and I have stinging scratches all over my face and arms from the branches and thorns that we had to push our way through. My throat is parched and my stomach feels hollow. Faramir has brought two water skins, but we don't know when we'll find a stream so we have only had a few sips.

I wipe sweat off my forehead, not for the first time. "When do you want to stop for the night?" I ask.

Faramir turns around and looks at me sympathetically. "It's not going to be for a while," he says. "We'll need a clearing to make a fire, and there's been very few animals."

I take a small sip from my water skin. "I'm alright." My breath is coming out in short gasps and my head is spinning, but I take another step forward. A fallen log lies across our path. Faramir climbs over it, then puts his hands on my waist and helps me over. We've gone through this routine many times today, but it still makes my heart beat a little bit faster when he does it.

A squirrel darts across our path, and Faramir has an arrow notched against his bow. He lets it fly, and it sinks into the squirrel's eye. He squats down, pulls out his arrow, wipes it on his thigh, and then picks up the squirrel by its bushy tail. A bit of blood drips out of its eye.

When we finally reach a small clearing, the sun is beginning to set and Faramir has shot two more squirrels. He hands me his knife and I quickly skin and gut them, burying the remains so that we don't attract any larger animals. Faramir starts a fire and we place the squirrel on rocks in the middle of the flames. A delicious, meaty scent begins to fill the air. We wait a few more minutes before bringing the meat to the rocks away from the fire to cool. When I pick one up and take a bite, it's still sizzling. I yelp as I feel my tongue burning. The meat has a slightly smoky taste, and it's better than I expected.

"I guess it's true that anything tastes good when you're hungry," I remark, licking some grease off my fingers. My mood brightens considerably now that my stomach is full. I take a drink from my water supply, then lie back on the hard ground. The stars have come out. Faramir is still staring into the glow of the fire. "Aren't you going to sleep?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I'll take first watch and wake you in a few hours," he says, spinning an arrow between his fingers.

I close my eyes and dream of darkness. An eye of flames flashes across my mind, and I sit straight up. Faramir looks over at me, worry evident in his gaze. "What's wrong?"

I try to calm my wild heartbeat. "Nothing. It was just a dream. I can take watch now."

I take his spot beside the fire. He removes his cloak, rolls it up, and uses it as a pillow as he falls asleep. His breathing evens out. I watch his face for a while. He looks younger and happier when he's sleeping. In sleep, he doesn't have to worry about pleasing his father or living up to Boromir's achievements.

I walk to the edge of the clearing and gather some branches to build up the fire. I think longingly of my bed back home. It wasn't the best out there, but it had been comfortable. My thoughts drift to Mother. She was a laundress, but without me she wouldn't be able to get as much work done. Would she make enough money to support herself? Before I had left there had barely been enough money as it was.

A rustling comes from the bushes on the far side of the clearing. I grab Faramir's hunting knife from his belt, making sure to slide it out slowly so I don't wake him. Adrenaline rushes through me and heightens my senses. I step closer to the source of the noise. Heavy grunting reaches my ears, and the thing steps out from the trees. It's taller than any man I've ever seen, and its skin is mottled grey and brown. Small yellow eyes are fixed on me, and when it smiles, I can see its teeth are sharp and stained slightly red. I stare at it in horror.

It comes closer, holding a large broadsword in its hand. I hold the knife tighter in my fist, not daring to move. It swings the sword at me, and I instinctively duck. It lets out a grunt, saliva dripping out of its mouth. Blindly, I jab forward with the sword. "Where did you come from?" I ask.

It ignores my question, instead throwing a punch at me. It catches me in the jaw, and I cry out, falling to the ground. It stabs downward with the sword, and I roll out of the way. An arrow sails through the air and buries itself deep in the monster's throat. It drops down, blood pooling on the corner of its mouth. I turn around. Faramir lowers his bow, shaking his head. "If you hear something, wake me up."

I almost start to cry with relief. I bend over the monster, gagging at its rancid breath. "Is that an orc?" I ask incredulously.

Faramir leans over it. "Yes. Came from Minas Morgul, I would assume." He stands quickly. "There could be more." He stomps out the fire, then puts on his cloak. "We need to leave, now."

I stand too, lifting my hand to feel my jaw. It's tender and swollen. I wince as my fingers touch the broken skin. Wearily, I lift my feet and walk to where Faramir is waiting by the edge of the clearing.