earthen floor, this will hold well.”
A few seconds later the door shuddered under blows from the inside; they were just in time.
Upstairs in Emyn Arnen a major spat was in progress. Sir Edvard, pale with anger, screamed at the chief of counter-intelligence:
“You’re under arrest, Cheetah, or whatever your name is! Know this, bastard: up North we hang traitors by their legs, so that they have time to think before dying!..”
“Shut up, idiot, it’s bad enough already,” the captain answered tiredly. He was sitting on a step, eyes closed, waiting patiently while another man fashioned a crude cast for his foot. A grimace of pain contorted his face from time to time: a broken foot is a truly horrendous injury.
“Anyway, you’re under arrest,” the Dunadan repeated; then he glanced up at the Secret Guard officers arrayed in a semicircle behind their chief and felt a sudden fear – not that he scared easily. The seven figures froze in a strange immobility, and their eyes – usually dark and empty, like a dry well – suddenly shone with a scarlet shimmer, like a predator’s.
“No, don’t even think about it,” Cheetah said, turning to his people, and the scarlet shimmer disappeared without a trace. “Let him consider me arrested, if that will make him feel better; a fight among the White Company is just what we don’t need right now…”
Suddenly a din rose in the courtyard, then the door opened, and in walked the man whom they least expected to see, flanked by stunned sentries.
“Grager!” Sir Elvard said in astonishment. “How dare you come here? Nobody gave you safe conduct…”
The baron smirked. “It’s you who’s going to need safe conduct now. I am here by the order of my suzerain, the Prince of Ithilien,” he stressed the last words. “His Highness is prepared to forgive all the evil you’ve done him and were about to do. Moreover, the Prince has a plan that will allow His Majesty to save face and you to keep your heads attached.”
Chapter 30
Ithilien, the Settlement
May 15, 3019
The morning that day was wonderful. The watercolor blue of the Ephel Duath (what idiot had decided to cal then Mountains of Shadow?) was so transparent that their snowy peaks appeared to float in the air above the boundless emerald stretches of Ithilien. For those few minutes the fort of Emyn Arnen on a nearby hill became what its creators must have imagined it to be: a magical forest dwelling, rather than a fortress. The rays of the rising sun have magically transformed the meadow on the edge of the Settlement – the plentiful dew that had previously covered it like a coat of noble faded silver suddenly shone like a spread of uncountable diamonds; perhaps the early May sunrise had surprised the gnomes who had gathered here for their nightly vigil, so now they have fled to their mouse holes, abandoning their painstakingly arranged treasures.
Be that as it may, the three or four hundred people gathered at the meadow (mostly peasants and soldiers) were not inclined to think of the dew poetically: it had drenched them all, many teeth were close to chattering. Nevertheless, no one left; on the contrary, people kept gathering. Men from the distant hamlets joined the inhabitants of the Settlement; news that the White Company was leaving, changing the guard to the newly reconstituted Ithilien regiment, have traveled with lighting speed, and no one wanted to miss the show. Now they were looking at the two motionless ranks facing each other – one black, the other green – at the officers saluting each other with complex movements of bare swords – “I relieve you.” “I stand relieved.” – and, amazingly, for the first time thought of themselves as Ithilienians rather than settlers from Gondor, Arnor, or Belfalas.
The Prince of Ithilien was a little pale and did not seem too comfortable in the saddle (according to experts in such things); then again, there was no lack of pale faces and beclouded gazes among the White Company, either. (“Guys, betcha the party in the fort last night was a monster, eh?” “Yeah, see them three Whites in the back row on the right? You could prob’ly get buzzed from their breath; they look ready to keel over, poor sods.”) In the meantime, Faramir thanked the White Company for faithful service, bid a ceremonious farewell to his personal guard, and addressed a speech to his subjects:
“Today we are seeing off our friends who have come to our aid in the hour of utmost need, when the fledgling Ithilien Colony was defenseless against the bands of bloodthirsty goblins and Wargs; our heartfelt thanks to you, Guards of the Citadel! (“Hey, cousin: bands o’ goblins… ever see any ‘round here?” “Well, cain’t say as I had, but they say that the other day at the Otter Creek…”) The memory of this aid will remain forever in our hearts, just as the Princedom of Ithilien will forever remain the vassal of the Reunited Kingdom and its shield beyond the Anduin. However, we will defend the Kingdom as we see fit; we dwell beyond the Great River, not in Anorien, so we have to live in peace and harmony with all the local peoples, whether anybody likes it or not. (“What’s he talking about, cousin?” “Well, I figger that, say, them Trolls in the Mountains of Shadow – word is they have iron like dirt, but not much lumber.” “Yeah, I suppose…”) Anyway. All hail the King of Gondor and Arnor! (“Weird, cousin…” “Hey, dumbass, see them roll out the barrels over yonder? For a free drink I’ll hail even His Majesty… Hurrah!”) …The messenger from Minas Tirith (a lieutenant of the Dunadan Royal Guard) showed up at the meadow when the ceremony was in full swing, his horse all lathered and breathing hard. Sir Elvard, thoroughly cowed by the Secret Guard (“Oblige me by smiling, sir. Smile, you hear?!”), now helplessly watching this unheard-of treachery – surrender of a key fortress without a fight – looked up and a faint hope arose in his heart: His Majesty must have somehow learned about this rebellion and has sent him an order to polish off all those dyed-in-the-wool traitors – from Faramir to Cheetah… Alas, the message was indeed from Aragorn, but it was addressed to the captain of the Secret Guard. Cheetah broke the White Tree seal right then and there and lost himself in reading; then he folded the message unhurriedly and handed it to Sir Elvard with a strange chuckle:
“Read this, Lieutenant. I think you’ll find it interesting.”
The letter was a set of detailed instructions on how the White Company was to proceed under the new circumstances. Aragorn wrote that the preservation of the
