The Last Ring-bearer - Kirill Yeskov [83]
"Wait," he repeated, then carelessly tossed up the silver cup she had just used to illustrate her invective, caught and crushed it in a single movement like it was made of paper; the encrusted rubies burst through his fingers like drops of blood and rattled across the marble floor. "By the Halls of Valinor," he repeated her words slowly, "I, too, no longer see a difference between the crown of Gondor and this cup; sorry that the crown wasn't to hand."
He tossed her the lump of silver so that she had to catch it and left without looking back. It looked like for the first time ever a battle went to him. Yes, she's right – he's playing the most dangerous game of all and isn't about to turn back. He wants this woman, and he will have her, whatever the cost. This will never happen while Elves are Elves? Very well, then the whole foundation of their power must be crushed. This is a task of unimaginable complexity, but a lot more fun than, say, the conquest of Harad…
The voice of the guard on duty abruptly brought him back to reality: "Your Majesty! Your Majesty! The White Company is back from Ithilien. Shall I ask them in?"
…Aragorn sat silently, head down and arms crossed over his chest; Cheetah sat in front of him in an armchair, bandaged foot awkwardly turned aside. He had finished his unhappy report a few minutes ago and was now awaiting the verdict.
Finally His Majesty raised his gaze. "Under those circumstances your actions have to be judged as appropriate, Captain. I would've done the same thing in your place. Well, that's no surprise."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Our shadow is your shadow."
"You seem to want to ask something?"
"Yes. While in Ithilien we were bound hand and foot by the order to preserve Faramir's life. Don't you think it necessary to revise…"
"No, I don't." The Dúnadan rose and strolled around the room thoughtfully. "You see, I have lived a turbulent life and am guilty of a multitude of sins, including some mortal ones… but I have never been an oath-breaker, and never will be."
"What relevance does this have to real politics?"
"A very direct one. Faramir is an honorable man, so while I keep up my side of the bargain, he won't abandon his, and I'm fairly satisfied with the status quo."
"But now all who are unhappy with Your Majesty's rule will gather in Ithilien!"
"Certainly, and that's wonderful! This will rid me of opposition in Gondor – with no bloodshed, mind you. It will be Faramir's problem now to make sure that those guys don't do anything about restoring the old dynasty – he's oath-bound, too."
"So it doesn't concern you that the Prince of Ithilien has already started some sort of murky dealings with the East?"
"This wasn't in your report! Where did you get this information?"
"You see, the man who broke my foot was an Orocuen scout; the same night an Umbarian physician – Haladdin, I remember his name well – set it. Those men came from beyond the Mountains of Shadow together with the well-known baron Tangorn…"
"Hey! Describe this doctor to me!" Cheetah looked at Aragorn in surprise; the King leaned forward and his voice cracked a bit.
"…Yes, it's him, without a doubt," the Dúnadan murmured and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "So Tangorn had found Haladdin in Mordor and dragged him over to Faramir in Ithilien… Damn but you've kept the worst news for last! Looks like I have seriously underestimated that philosopher."
"Forgive me, Your Majesty, for not yet knowing – who is this Haladdin?"
"Ah. You see, you're about to head a small top-secret group – Task Force Féanor; it is not even part of the Secret Guard and reports directly to me. Its strategic task for the foreseeable future is to gather knowledge left behind by Mordor and Isengard for our own purposes. You can't make do with just the books in this business, you need the people, too. A certain Doctor Haladdin is number eighteen on our list. Of course, it could be a coincidence that he met Tangorn, Faramir's Umbarian resident, but I don't believe in such coincidences."
"Then you think… that Faramir