Caranwyn's Tale: In Defence of Middle Earth

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Making Haste

 

The lowest circle of the city, at the level of the fields beyond the wall, was where much of the trade and storage of goods was conducted.  Many of the old buildings originally constructed as warehouses were still used as such, even if their capacity bespoke a city much busier than it was these days.

It was also where several stables were situated, not far from the main gates of the city.  Most of the time they were empty, save for the occasional mount of an outrider or messenger, but today Caranwyn found herself inspecting a dozen fresh steeds alongside her father and the two hands who were taking care of them.  They had been brought in in preparation for the journey ahead, since it was rare for any mission to travel so far from the White City, and particularly rare an event for a son of the Steward to be undertaking a journey to so far off and mysterious a goal.  She had not met with Lord Boromir yet, but she could tell he had already come personally to view the horses offered to them; one stood apart from the rest, in a stall opposite the others, and tack bearing the mark of the line of Stewards had been neatly arrayed not far from it.

Caranwyn herself knew nothing of what made for a good mount, and what did not.  They had all learned the very basics of riding, towards the end of their training, but it had been more theory than practice, and already she had spent more time around the beats today than their brief lesson the year before had afforded.  She listened carefully to the conversation between her father and the hands, paying attention as keenly as she could while trying not to seem like a gaping novice.  It would be her task to select the seven that would serve as mounts for herself and her men, while the remainder would be returned to their previous steads in the company of those who had brought them in.  She stopped to pat and rub at the neck of one as he stretched out his head in an effort to lip hopefully at her hair.  Her father chuckled as she darted away again, surprised at the unexpected and indelicate tug.

“So, you’ve been given leave to take eight others along with yourself, Caranwyn, is that correct?”  He had stood back from the line again, looking over them as a group.  Caranwyn joined him after a moment.

“Yes, but I only mean to travel with six others, seven in total, as well as our Captain Boromir, who I assume has already selected his own steed for the journey?”  Her father turned his head to arch an eyebrow at her, thoughtful.

“Six others?  Ah, I should have guessed as much.  They have all agreed to serve under you?”  When she nodded he shook his head, offering a rueful smile.  “You are depriving me of so many promising young soldiers, Captain.  I had hoped to put several of them to tasks soon, but it seems you have been the swifter in your selection.”  He folded his hands behind his back, glancing at the roof of the table.

“I suppose that does explain young Celegeth coming to speak to me earlier today.  I thought at first that he might be coming to ask my permission to wed your sister, and so keep her here; I thought he must have discovered that you were both leaving, but was not, himself.  I was disappointed; he only sought my permission to being courting her.”  A dry chuckle escaped him.  “I will say, he was respectful, but not at all nervous as I had expected, perhaps he truly does fear your wrath more than mine.  He did succeed in asking my permission to ‘begin’ courting her with a straight and honest face; he always has been a sly and mischievous one.  He is a good young man, though, and honest where it truly matters.”  Caranwyn cleared her throat, casting an apologetic eye to the hands, waiting uncertainly.

“I’m glad you’re pleased father, but there’s much to do still.  We can talk about it when we are not keeping others waiting.”  Again her father smiled, this time running one hand over his face.

“Of course.  Forgive an old soldier his musings.  Both of my young daughters are to go beyond my sight soon, and none know when they will return.  A father cannot help but worry.”  He nodded, then seemed to collect himself.  “You are right, of course.  To the matter at hand.  These horses are all of good stock, and none set themselves far apart, either above or beneath the others.  Since I now know who will be riding them, would you allow me to make recommendation, Captain Caranwyn?”

She was about to nod, but hesitated, holding up one hand to him, her brow furrowed.  He eyes scanned the line of horses, trying to work out what her father’s advice might be.  It came from knowing the riders, so, how would that affect her pick?  She bit her lip, then spoke.

“You want to make a recommendation because you know who will ride them.  From the point of view of picking these horses, that can only be because of the build and weight.  I guess, then, you want to recommend that the three on the furthest end from us be a part of my pick, since they seem to be the sturdiest built of the eleven here, and would be wise choices for Allagor, Belemir and Denith.”  Her father laughed and she allowed herself a small smile, but it faded again as he shook his head.

“Close, and a very valid line of thought.  Certainly, take those three in your pick, for that very reason, however, I was actually thinking of Garthstan, and yourself.  You will be traveling as a group, and so the horses must tire evenly.  The greatest difference, physically, is between you and Garthstan; he is very tall, even for his age, while you and Russellwen are both very slight of build.  Certainly, if you were measured on the scale of average soldiers, being men, you would be counted very slight indeed.  So I would recommend the horses second and fourth from the right, for each you and Russellwen, and this one here, in the middle, for Garthstan.  Can you see why, looking at them?”

“Yes,” she nodded.  “And I would venture that, given such a choice, you’d also recommend this one,” She pointed to the horse fifth from the right, who seemed to toss his head almost on cue, “for Celegeth, as the last.”  She dared a sidelong look at her father, questioning.  He rubbed at his jaw line, scratching a spot.

“Mmm, yes, either that one, or else the one over the other side of Garthstan’s horse.  A suitable choice.  Are you decided then?”  Caranwyn checked her mind for any lingering uncertainties, but without more understanding of her own and no objections, she nodded.

“I am.”  She looked past him to the two hands and confirmed her choices to them, watching as they quickly hooked small leather markers onto the stalls of the ones she had selected.  That done they both left the stable at a quick walk, likely seeking out the others who had brought the horses in.  Caranwyn walked beside her father as they left the stable, stepping out into the early afternoon sun.  She could tell he had something more on his mind, but was hesitant to speak it.

“We have spoken already about provisioning for the journey, and you know that you will be travelling as lightly as possible.  Boromir desires haste in his mission, and acting as his escort for a ways, you will also need to travel quickly.”  Not what he had been pondering, she wagered.  “When you reach the lands of Eriador, however, your goal becomes less distinct.  Once your ways have parted, I expect you will head first for the centres of community there.  There are scarce few on any of the maps that are still inhabited today, though by all accounts the town of Bree has grown into a larger community than most places in the region, aided by its relative safety.”  Their walk was taking them back towards the first gate, and they passed through with a salute to the door wardens.  He continued as they climbed further.  “The supplies you take will see you through the journey there, at least, but from that point on you and you men will need to sustain and maintain yourselves.  There will probably be organised forces with whom you can ally yourselves, but do not count on it.  You have all learned much about surviving from the land in times of hardship, but in many ways, surviving amongst an unfamiliar people is a more difficult task.”  He stopped, turning back on the slope and onto the path that led out to the first level battlement. 

Caranwyn closed her eyes for a moment as the soft breeze found her.  They were above the level of the outer wall, but not yet so high that the breeze would grow into a cold wind by the time it reached them.  There was a dry warmth in it instead, but it was still enough to be refreshing after the stillness of the air on the bottom level, behind the wall.  She stood beside her father for a few moments, looking out past the wall.

“I believe I am prepared, father.  Whatever awaits, we will adapt and overcome.”  His sigh in response made her look over.  “What troubles you?”  Her father met her eyes for a moment, then leaned forward on the masonry, looking outward gain.

“A complicated thing, which is difficult to say.”  He fell silent and Caranwyn rested her arms on the stonework beside him, making it clear she had no intention of leaving.  At length he continued.  “You are going to act, in the first sense, as ambassadors.  The lands behind us have had no proper, formal contact for many years, and for many whom you see, you will be the first born of the White City that they will have seen.  I think of that, and I find myself… disquieted.”  He made a frustrated sound, taping his fingers against the battlement.  “I make it sound poorly.  What I mean to say is, you are young, and your blood is hot.”  There was a long moment of hesitation.  “You, Caranwyn, in particular, have always concerned me with your temper.  True, your anger is almost always just and righteous, because you have a noble heart and a strong sense of honour, but,” he seemed to struggle for the words and Caranwyn made herself give him time.  “I worry that, however justified, it may lead to trouble, when you must act as a bridge between our land, and our people, and the lands far away from us, whom we protect.  I know you are always mindful of those around you, but please, make sure you are even more vigilante of yourself.”  Now Caranwyn stood back from the wall, turning to face her father properly. 

“Is that honestly all that troubles you?  Concern that I will not master myself when necessary?  Forgive me father, but I find it hard to accept that that is what has had you agitated all morning.”  To her surprise he only looked sidelong at her, his eyebrow raised above a small, tired smile.

“No, daughter.  That is not the thing that truly concerns me.  I simply did not wish to speak of it directly.  I had hoped that my mention of your youth and hot blood would serve as answer to why I was truly concerned about the thought of you being an ambassador for our people.”  Caranwyn couldn’t prevent the small flinch that took hold of her and she felt a hot blush burst into her cheeks.  She ducked her head, looking outward again.

“I see.”  Silence reigned between them as the breeze continued to flow over the battlement and further up into the city.  She jumped as a hand clasped around her shoulder and squeezed softly.  Her father laughed, lifting the tension and bringing a small smile back to her lips.

“Consider as well, thanks to the hot blood of youth, that between Russellwen and young Celegeth, I am also quite concerned that I shall become a grandfather without knowing it, before you all return to us.  Imagine then, how conflicted I must feel with every circumstance in mind.”  He laughed again, genuinely mirthful this time, and Caranwyn couldn’t help but to laugh with him. 

They passed another few minutes enjoying the soft breeze, their conversation moving back to more mundane aspects of the mission ahead, until the sound of footfalls on the stone behind them made Caranwyn look around.  Celegeth stood behind them, dressed in his more comfortable, off-duty clothes.  He saluted, inclining his head to her.

“Captain Caranwyn, Master Thalanen.  Sorry to intrude, Captain, but myself and the other men wished to speak with you about some details of what we may expect, when you are not busy.”  He spoke with a calm tone, his voice close to formal and Caranwyn found herself frowning softly as she acknowledged his salute.

“We’ve always spoken like this, in jest and humour.  It feels somehow very strange, almost ill-fitting, to hear you speak so now, when the formal authority is real.  Please, relax Celegeth.”  His usual grin returned and he tilted his head, shrugging.

“If you say so, Captain.  Still, it is proper now, as you say, and there is currently no captain I know well enough to respect more than you.”  Now that he had relaxed, she could hear something else in his voice, something she couldn’t put her finger on right away.  Instinct told her to pursue it.

“As it happens, I am not busy currently.  I’ll walk with you now.”  She took a moment to nod to her father.  “I will be sure to guard my temper as closely as I can, father.  I’ll see you this evening.”  He offered a small wave in ascent and she turned to walk from the battlement with Celegeth.

Once they were back out on the central street, they began to climb once more.  They walked in silence for several minutes before Caranwyn spoke, picking her moment when there was no-one on the street besides them.

“Did the others truly wish to speak to me again, Celegeth?”  He didn’t quite stumble at her question.

“Well, probably, Captain.”

“Which means you really wished to talk to me yourself.  Am I mistaken?”  Celegeth stopped, folding his arms and she paused as well to look at him.  He was scowling at her, though she could see the grin in his eyes, belying it.

“You know, I haven’t been able to pull a single thing over on you in years, Caranwyn.  It was hard enough when we were little, it’s impossible now.  It just isn’t fair, I tell you.”  She allowed herself a small laugh, the sound dragging the grin behind his eyes out onto his face properly.

“I suppose you’ll just have to try harder then, won’t you.  Think of it as training.  I need you to be as sharp as you’ve ever been now, after all.” She walked to the side of the road, leaning against the wall of one building in the shade.  “So, what was on your mind?”  She already suspected his answer, but wasn’t about to assume in case she was wrong.  Sure enough, though, a blush began to infuse the boy’s features.

“Em, well…  Russellwen and I were talking, earlier, and,” he fidgeted, then forced himself to stand still.  “And I’m guessing from that much, you already know what I’m saying.  I’m sure she would have put a plan like this to you before asking me.”  Celegeth didn’t maintain his fortitude for long, pacing briefly before leaning against the wall beside her and fidgeting at his clothing with nervous fingers.  The resonant peal of the third afternoon bells rang through the streets and Caranwyn waited for the sound to fade before she answered him.

“Yes.  Did you give her an answer?”  He turned his head to look at her more clearly, eyebrows raised, surprised.

“Well, of course.  I mean, I want her to be happy, to enjoy,” his voice wavered and Caranwyn glanced across to see his slight blush had grown to a deep red.  He pressed hands to his face, covering his eyes and cheeks for a moment.  “Sorry, Captain.  It feels so strange, embarrassing, in a way, to even talk about this sort of thing.  What I mean is, if this is what Russellwen wants, then it is what I want, and I did tell her as much as well.”

“Oh dear,” Caranwyn tried to force down her giggle, telling herself it wasn’t appropriate.  “If you’re this anxious now, what then?”  She immediately rushed on to reassure the poor boy, putting one hand to his shoulder.  “I am sorry, Celegeth, that wasn’t helpful.  Listen, Russellwen just wants me there because she’s nervous.  She’s been wanting to say yes to you for a while now, but simply hasn’t had the courage.”  Biting her lip, Caranwyn debated how to word her next question.  “So, how… how do you feel, about this, about me being there?” She could feel the heat in her own cheeks as she asked, her eyes locked in a firm pretence of interest at something across the street.  Beside her, Celegeth laughed; a sound which failed utterly to hide his nerves.

“Well, I, uhh, Captain, I don’t really know, Captain.  It’s very strange, I…” He hung his head.  “To be honest, I’d feel better if it hadn’t come up.  I’m afraid enough as it is, even before she asked me this.  If she’d wanted to have some friend, some other pretty girl, hold her hand, I’d have been fine, but you’re—”  He cut short, turning to her quickly with his hands raised, a look of unbridled terror dashing across his face.  “That’s not, I’m not saying you’re not… Ughh!”  He cursed under his breath.  “Most men have this awkward difficulty with their lover, not their lover’s sister, or their commanding officer, for that matter.”  Caranwyn had turned to face him, one shoulder against the wall, with her arms folded.  Celegeth took a deep breath, looking away while he composed himself.  He began again, his voice much calmer.

“What I mean is, you’re my captain, Caranwyn, and you have been for many years, long before some old man held your sword for you and said it.  So I’m… oh I don’t know.  It’s confusing, that’s all.”  He threw up his hands, usually a sign on his giving up on tactful speech altogether.  She was not disappointed.  “Look, to my eyes, Russellwen is the most beautiful maid in this whole city, and you’re her twin sister, whether any of us think about you that way or not.  You’re far more attractive than you seem to think, and I’d be suffering some madness if I wasn’t excited by the prospect of having you both together.   Whatever nerves I have, you being my commander, I will overcome them.  It’s as I said before; Russellwen needs you, and so, I need you as well, for her.”

“Alright then.”  Caranwyn smiled, but underneath she suppressed the urge to make a frustrated motion with her hand.  He’d answered her question, certainly, but she was no further forward on working out how he felt about certain other matters.

“Umm, Captain?”  Celegeth was rubbing at the back of his neck, if possible, looking more embarrassed now than he had before.  She looked across at him and raised her eyebrows.  “I want you to know,” he swallowed, his eyes flicking away before returning to her face.  “I know you’ve never wanted to be treated like a girl, and I’m sorry if that’s stopped all of us from thinking of you as a woman.  I know that there are a great many men who would be glad to give you their attention, if you showed interest, for what that’s worth, and I wouldn’t want you to feel that it would be a wasted effort, just because none of us have ever looked at you so.”  Here she couldn’t help but bark a short laugh.

“I have all the attention from men that I want, Celegeth, trust me.”  He didn’t seem appeased, wincing.

“I say only because it’s been on my mind, since Russellwen asked me this.  Well, amongst a great many other things that have been in my mind since then.  I was thinking of the day I asked you about her, and how badly my request upset you.  I know it did, I just didn’t have anything I could say.  I was afraid that I’d upset you because I had asked after your sister, and not you yourself.  Very confident of me, I know.”  He ducked his head to her with a small grin, and she leaned back against the wall, looking to the sky and wondering how to answer.

“Celegeth, swift foot, nimble fingers, quick of wit; how well your name suites you.  What can I say?  Let me tell you this, at least.  For most of that afternoon, I believed that that was why I was upset as well.  I realised my mistake soon enough, though.”  Thoughts of the events that had taught her otherwise sent a hot tingle through her body, and she fought them off with a small, guilty smile.  Celegeth bit his lip, his brows drawing down.

“If I can ask, then, Captain?  What?”  She shook her head, her eyes drifting shut as she sighed.

“In the end, nothing of any importance at all, and that, my friend, is all I will say on it for now.”  His face told her that he hadn’t stopped pondering her words, and wouldn’t until he figured it out, but she watched the shift in his features that she’d come to recognise as the boy putting something to the back of his mind, to steep, while he changed the subject.

“If you say so.  Anyhow, the real reason I wanted to talk to you was more, well, practical.  Other than agreeing, I haven’t spoken about any more with Russellwen, but, we depart the morning after tomorrow, and I’m going to wager that it will be much more difficult to get any sort of privacy at all once we’re travelling.”  The vague, undefined future suddenly became a very real, very immediate thing and Caranwyn crushed the startled shock of anxiety that shot through her to accompany it.

“You make a good point.  Come, walk with me further and we’ll work something out.  I find myself needing to speak to soldier Russellwen about her duties during our mission.”  Celegeth stood and fell in beside her as she began walking again.  He chuckled to himself, amused by something, then lanced across at her.

“I wonder, Captain, what do you think others would say if I told them I’d spent more time blushing and being embarrassed in the first few days of my supposedly adult life, than I had for several months beforehand?”  Caranwyn allowed herself a laugh alongside him, but raised one eyebrow at him as she responded.

“I suspect, oh proud son of Gondor, that you would discover that you are very far from the only one for whom that holds true, no matter what others say or claim.”  Their mirth continued as they climbed further into the City.

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