Sword and Arrow

Chapter 41

"What news?" Faramir asked, looking at the map spread out in front of him with his chin in his hands.

"Our scouts report that Saruman has attacked Rohan," Madril, his second-in-command, answered. "Théoden's people have fled to Helm's Deep. But we must look to our own borders." He bent over Faramir's shoulder, brushing grey hair back over his ear. "Faramir, orcs are on the move. Sauron is marshaling an army. Easterlings and Southrons are passing through the Black Gate."

Faramir nodded. "How many?"

"Some thousands. More come every day."

"Who's covering the river to the north?"

"We pulled five hundred men out of Osgiliath," Madril said. "but if the city is attacked, we won't hold it."

Faramir leaned over the map, carefully placing his elbows so he wouldn't wrinkle it. "Saruman attacks from Isengard. Sauron from Mordor. The fight will come to men on both fronts." He shook his head. "Gondor is weak. Sauron will strike us soon, and he will strike hard. He knows now we do not have the strength to repel him."

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Henneth Annûn had been a Gondorian outpost for hundreds of years, never found by enemies where it was concealed behind a waterfall. Faramir and his men had expanded it in their time in Ithilien, making it a full base for the Rangers. Now, Faramir walked to the makeshift hold in the back, stepping carefully over the puddles of water in the stone floor.

Two of his Rangers that had been flanking him stepped into the room, removing the hoods of the two strange creatures that they had found during the raid. At a signal from Faramir, the two left the room, leaving him alone with the strange duo.

"My men tell me that you are orc spies," Faramir said, approaching the two.

"Spies!" the sandy-haired one exclaimed. "Now wait just a minute."

"Well." Faramir came to the center of the room. "If you aren't spies, then what are you?"

Both the strange creatures were silent. Faramir came to the side of the room and sat on a rock, looking at the two. They looked to be adult men, save that they barely reached Faramir's waist - and Faramir was not an exceptionally tall man like his brother. "Speak!" Faramir ordered.

"We are hobbits of the Shire," the dark-haired one said haltingly. "Frodo Baggins is my name, and this is Samwise Gamgee."

Faramir had never heard of the hobbits that they claimed to be, but he thought he remembered the Shire from one of the old, dusty books that his father kept in his archives and never read. It was a land to the northwest of the Misty Mountains, even westwards of Rivendell.

"Your bodyguard?" he asked of the second hobbit, Samwise.

"His gardener," Samwise said defensively.

Faramir raised an eyebrow. These two made no sense. Why would these tiny creatures come so far from their homeland - bringing a gardener instead of a bodyguard? Truly strange people from a strange land.

"And where is your skulking friend?" he asked of the pale creature that had accompanied them, but had run off during the raid. "That gangrel creature. He had an ill-favored look."

"There was no other," said Frodo Baggins. A lie.

Faramir tilted his head back, encouraging the man - no, hobbit - to speak.

"We set out from Rivendell with eight companions," said the hobbit. "One we lost to Moria. Two were my kin." Interesting. More hobbits. "A dwarf there was also, and an elf. And two men and a woman. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Beruthiel, daughter of Gwaedhon, and Boromir of Gondor."