“You’re overestimating my abilities. It’s just that, unlike you, I can figure at least two moves in advance.” “…They’re leaving! Look, they’re really leaving!” Grager breathed finally, watching the column of Whites take to the Osgiliath Highway. He kept the fingers of his left hand crossed in a special way, just in case. “To be honest, I didn’t quite believe it and kept waiting for some treachery to the last moment… You’re a genius, Your Majesty!”
“That’s ‘Your Highness,’ Baron, and please keep in mind – I absolutely will not tolerate any joking in this matter.”
“My apologies, Your Highness.”
“However,” Faramir looked over the Ithilien regiment fighters gathered around him with a slight smile, “each one of you is hereby entitled to address me as ‘my Captain,’ for old times’ sake. Obviously, this will not be a hereditary privilege. All right, guys. Her Highness will show you to the castle – the food is served and the bottles are uncorked – while myself and the officers and… erm… our Eastern guests will catch up with you in ten minutes or so… So what were you wishfully saying there, Baron Grager: you really think that they’ve left?”
“No, my Captain. Their spy network…”
“Yes, exactly. What do you propose to do about it?”
“Nothing, Your Highness.”
“Explain.”
“Sure. It makes no sense to prosecute those of Cheetah’s people that we’ve identified: since Ithilien was and is a vassal of Gondor, they’ve committed no crime by working for the monarch of the Reunited Kingdom. Sometimes in such circumstance you do away with a spy quietly, but that’s an extreme measure: by doing so we’d announce to Minas Tirith that we’re at the very least openly hostile, if not at war with them. Most importantly, Prince, I’m almost certain that we have not identified the entire network. Should we arrest the ones we know, we’d allow them free use of any remaining agents. Whereas if we touch nobody, it’ll be impossible to figure out which ones we know about and which we don’t, so they’ll have to consider the entire network compromised. Even if they don’t simply abandon it, they’ll for sure put it to sleep for a long time. At least I wouldn’t touch such a semi-compromised network with a ten-foot pole.”
“Very well; this will be your call now, Baron Grager. I hereby promote you to Captain and grant you the requisite powers.”
“Wow!” Tangorn laughed. “I see that the setup of the state of Ithilien is proceeding in an unusual fashion – its first institution is the counter-intelligence service!..”
Faramir shrugged: “With neighbors such as these… In any event, I doubt that this is of much interest to our guests. Tzerlag, where are you?.. I have to admit to a certain difficulty: your exploits of last night definitely make you worthy of a knighthood, but that would create a host of technical problems. In any event, what use is Gondorian knighthood to a desert warrior?”
Tzerlag shook his head. “No use, Your Highness.”
“See? Well, I guess there’s no choice but to fall back onto the ancient legends: ask your heart’s desire, Sergeant! But please keep in mind that I don’t have daughters of marriageable age yet, and as for the Prince’s treasury… what do we have there, Beregond?”
“A hundred thirty six gold pieces, Your Highness.”
“Yeah, not quite the Hoard of Vendotenia… Perhaps you’d like to think about it, Sergeant? Oh, by the way, I have another debt to pay – for your rescue of this fair sir.”
The Orocuen was abashed. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but we… how should I put it… we’re kinda together, so our request will be mutual. Better let Baron Tangorn tell you; consider that I gave my rights over to him.”
“Ah so?” The prince looked over the three comrades with gay amusement. “This just keeps getting more interesting. I suppose it’s a confidential request?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“…As I understand it, Baron, you’re going to ask for the palantír,” Faramir began after they rode about twenty paces away from the rest of the group. He was gloomy, with no trace of amusement remaining on his face.
“So you’ve guessed already, Prince?”
“I’m not a total fool; why else would you ask me to escape with it? I just couldn’t imagine that you’re working together with these guys. So now I’ll have to hand a magic crystal over to Mordorians. A nice bind you got me into, no question.”
“That is not so, Your Highness. Haladdin is not in Mordor’s service any more; he is acting by himself and on behalf of entire Middle Earth, if I may be so bold. The sad thing is that I don’t have the right to let you know what his mission is, therefore I ask you to trust my word.”
Faramir brushed it off: “That’s not what I’m talking about. You know that I’ve always trusted you; more than I trust myself, in some things. It’s just that – what if all three of you are someone else’s puppets and that someone is using you for his own gain? Try analyzing this situation once more, this time as a professional spy, rather than a friend of Haladdin and Tzerlag.”
“I’ve done so many times and have this to say: whoever had started this originally, Haladdin will only play his own game, and this guy is very, very resilient – take my word for it – even though he doesn’t look the part. And another thing – I really like him, and I will do what I can to help him win.” After some thought the prince grumbled: “All right. Let’s consider me persuaded. How can I help you three?”
“First, please accept my resignation,” the baron began, and explained to puzzled Faramir: “I will have to visit Umbar for some time, and I plan to operate there as a private person, so as not to put Your Highness in a false light…”
Chapter 31
Gondor, Minas Tirith
May 17, 3019
“Her Royal Majesty the Queen of Gondor and Arnor!” the master of ceremonies announced and immediately vanished into thin air, like he hadn’t been there at all. Palace servants everywhere seem to have a sixth sense in addition to formal training. Aragorn had nerves of steel (a necessity in his former profession) and concealed the true feelings that the expression ‘Her Majesty the Queen’ aroused in him perfectly well. Nevertheless, somehow the rascal seemed to feel that every time those words were uttered His Royal Majesty Elessar Elfstone had a fleeting desire to either turn the speaker over to the Secret Guard (the Valar spare us), or simply unsheathe the Andúril and split the offender in half.
Gods, how beautiful she was! No human language has words to describe her beauty, while Elves need no words. Actually, it was not her beauty as such, but her absolute star-like unattainability that was the leash which was used to guide him all these years, ever since he first got to the Enchanted Forest and met – by pure coincidence, of course – Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar of Imladris, the daughter of Ruler Elrond himself. No one can find out now why the Elves picked him rather than any of the other innumerable Dúnedain princes (strictly speaking, almost every Dúnadan thinks himself a prince, tracing his lineage if not from Isildur, then for sure at least from Eärendur). Be that as it may, the Firstborn chose welclass="underline" Aragorn performed his task with excellence.
Now he was looking at her with a feeling he had never had before: desperation. Any further struggle is useless; how long can he chase a mirage? Yes, time to sum up, and there’s no reason to lie to oneself. So: an obscure chief of northern rangers had won the greatest of all wars in the history of Middle Earth, ascended the throne of the Reunited Kingdom, and became the first among Western sovereigns – but none of that had brought him an inch closer to possessing this woman.