The Last Ring-bearer - Kirill Yeskov [63]
"A shepherd boy, eh? Did she give him a gold coin wrapped in a note?"
"Nope – took a splinter out of his foot and told him a story of how she and her brother, when they were kids, had to defend a herd against steppe wolves… Listen, is it true that they do everything themselves in the North?"
"Yes. Over there even crown princes tend horses in childhood, and princesses work in the kitchens. So what about the boy?"
"She simply asked him to help in such a way that no one else finds out. And – the word of a professional – were anything to happen, the boy would let himself be cut to ribbons before giving anything away… Anyway, he found Blackbird Hamlet and brought an oral message: next Friday Captain Beregond will be in the Red Deer tavern in the Settlement, waiting for a drunk man who will slap his shoulder and ask whether he is the one who commanded the archers of Morthond on the Pelennor Field."
"What?! Beregond?"
"Yes, if you can imagine that. We were no less surprised, believe me. You have to agree, though, that Aragorn's people aren't likely to bait a trap with someone so noticeable, so the Prince is doing everything right."
"You must all be crazy here!" Tangorn spread his hands. "How can you trust a man who first killed his suzerain and is now betraying his new lords, in less than a month?"
"Quite the contrary. First, he's innocent of Denethor's death, we know that for sure…"
"For sure? How? You looked into chicken entrails?"
"Yes, we did, but into a palantír rather than anyone's entrails. Long story short – Faramir fully trusts him now, and the Prince, as you know, is a good judge of people and not given to sentimentality."
Tangorn leaned forward and even whistled in amazement. "Wait! Do you mean to say that Denethor's palantír is in Emyn Arnen?"
"Yep. Those folks in Minas Tirith have decided that it's broken. All they could see in it was the murdered King's ghost, so when Faramir asked for it as a memento, they were only too glad to get rid of it."
"All right…"
The baron stole an involuntary glance at the door to the next room, where Haladdin and Tzerlag were bedding down for the night. The situation was changing rapidly; they were inordinately lucky recently, he thought fleetingly, not a good sign… Grager followed his glance and nodded in the same direction:
"Those two. Are they really looking for Faramir?"
"Yes. They can be trusted, since our interests are fully aligned, at least for now."
"Well, well… A diplomatic mission?"
"Something like that. Forgive me, but I'm honor-bound…"
The chief of the Ithilienians contemplated this for some time, and then grumbled: "All right. You deal with them yourself, I'm busy enough as it is. I'm gonna take them out from underfoot to the most remote base, at Otter Creek, for the time being, and then we'll see."
"By the way, why did you give away precisely this base, at Blackbird Hamlet?"
"Because you can't approach it stealthily, so we can always beat it. Besides, we have only a few guys here; it's more of an observation post than a base."
"How many people do we have?"
"You're number fifty-two."
"And they?.."
"Forty."
"Can't storm the fort, then."
"Forget a direct assault," Grager waved off the notion. "Whatever else, they'll anyway have enough time to kill the Prince. Moreover, Faramir demands that his freedom be attained with no bloodshed, so that no one can later accuse him of violating his vassal's oath. No, we have another plan – an escape from Emyn Arnen; and when the Prince of Ithilien is under our protection, that's when we can change our tune and advise the Whites to get lost."
"So – do you have a concrete plan?"
"Brother, you offend me – it's almost fully implemented already! You see, Éowyn was our biggest problem: they're only let outside separately, and