Gondor's King

Chapter 14

The palace is in chaos. The arrival this morning of the dwarves has sent my household in disorder and disarray, as they are slowly made comfortable in the declining number of guest rooms in the palace. For my part alone I have had very little dealing with the disorder, merely doing my duty in making sure that Gimli as leader of the party is comfortably settled. There is an archery contest as part of the festivities on the lawn outside and those not involved in ordering my house have gathered outside to watch the competition. I sit under the shade of a large tree around the perimeter of the competition field, prohibited from taking part in the contest by Elrond who has had me resting in my room for most of the morning. With me also sits Gimli, Elrond, Aratula and Arrionetta, who are mischievously talking in whispers, no doubt about the large gathering of male competitors taking place on the field. The contest was open of invitation and many archers from the outer towns have gathered to test their skills as have many of the common folk gathered as spectators to the events.

“So my old friend, what wager would you say to the King of Mirkwood surpassing any of the competition?” The gruff dwarf looks up at me cheekily from where he is snacking on a chicken sandwich. I merely shake my head in disapproval aware that in this particular contest there are far to many archers to even consider which one might win.

“No one master dwarf, competition such as this is unpredictable although I should say my youngest son is quiteto Lto Legolas’ standard. Filgree tells me he has found none that show such talent with a bow as Kahual does.” Gimli huffs a raucous laugh his charming smile telling of the untold wager I have just made unwittingly. As the archers begin to take form along the field I take my time to scan each of them analysing if possible their visible strengths and weaknesses. The elvan archers surpass their human counterparts but such exteriors hide many talents and I welcome the first round of arrows to be fired as two men from the line up of elves progress to the next round after hitting the target squarely in the centre. The competition continues until an interesting line up takes position. Breachtian, Kahual, Legolas, Haldir, Glorfindel, Filgree, Elladan, two of my courtiers and a cloaked figure I am unfamiliar with step up to fire. I watch with interest as Breachtian says something to the unidentifiable figure standing next to him, who seems to respond in like ways as they are all given the order to fire and the arrows sail with a high pitched wail towards their targets. There is an applause from the crowd as those who progress through are acknowledged by the officials. As predicted all of the elder elves have progressed as well as one of my courtiers, Kahual and the cloaked figure. Breachtian is unsuccessful and I prepare myself to consol my eldest son as he pauses in the field to speak again to the cloaked figure before moving towards us.

“Good try young prince. I would not even be brave enough to step up into competition knowing the years of practice those elves have between them.” Gimli laughs softly as Breachtian nods understandingly at the dwarf who makes room on the large blanket for my son to sit down next to me.

“Aye, they are too good for me. Besides Kahis ais a far better student of Filgree than I could ever have hoped to be.” We all laugh warmly and I am somewhat happy that Breachtian has seemed to calm down somewhat since my chastising of him yesterday. I go to question him about the cloaked figure but Aratula gets to him first.

“Tell me Breachtian who is the man in the cloak? It is not Castile is it, playing one of his jokes?” Breachtian looks up sharply at Aratula who falls silent aware of her brother’s swift change in mood.

“No, Castile has duties in the stable and is not able to attend. I do not know who the man is.” Breachtian is lying I can see it in his eyes as he turns briefly back to me and quickly averts his gaze back to the field of competition. I sigh heavily maybe not everything I said has been taken in and I will be sure to question him further on the matter. However for the moment I return my gaze back to the field of play and thowlyowly diminishing competitors as the targets get smaller and further away.

*************

The competition has continued for most of the afternoon and now only Kahual, Legolas and most remarkably the cloaked figure remain as competitors.

“So now what is your call Aragorn? Does Legolas not surpass all the competition?” Gimli jibes with me again much to the others amusement around me. Over the course of the afternoon the large blanket has slobecobecome crowded with ex competitors that have fallen in the competition. Haldir laughs behind me and I smile as he hands over a small few coins to the slowly growing pile that has accumulated in the empty salad dish.

“I say Legolas will take both of them out this round. He may have aged but his talents have not.”

“Aye so do I. Legolas has years of experience on your son Aragorn and as for the stranger his last two shots have wavered a little with the pressure.” Glorfindel adds his own few coins to the pile as the others around him decide to choose Legolas as well. We are all somewhat surprised as Breachtian leans across and sticks a large hand full of coinage into the bowl and gestures to the field of competition.

”You all have so little faith in the stranger. He has proved himself thus far, I believe he might just surprise us.” I raise a challenging eyebrow at my eldest son who does not acknowledge me as he merely turns his attention to the field of play. I catch a curious glance from Elrond to me but I brush it off with a shrug as the three remaining competitors step up to the line. Kahual is the first to fire at the long distance target. It is beyond what he would normally aim for but he is pushing himself none the less. With a held gasp from the crowd Kahual releases his arrow and it sails just short of the target only just grazing the outer circle on it’s decent into the soft grass. I can see the disappointment in my youngest son’s eyes and I feel for him terribly as Legolas clasps his shoulder in gentle comfort as he steps up to the line to take his own shot. We all watch with silent anticipation as Legolas notches his arrow and takes aim, there is no doubt in my mind that Legolas will make this shot he has had far to many years practice to miss. With practiced ease he releases his arrow and it strikes with deadly precision into the heart of the target. There is a large round of applause and Legolas smiles over at us and lowers his head in shy acknowledgement of his well known talents.

“Ha, your faith has surely deserted you now Breachtian. Your cloaked stranger does not stand to better the king of Mirkwood.” Gimli smiles good-naturedly up at Breachtian who merely shrugs his shoulders and smiles with a calculating evilness I have not seen in my son ever.

”Do not crow so loudly Gimli son of Gloin, you mistake my faith for desertion. This competition is not over until the final arrow has been released.” We all fall silent as my son rises and moves to the edge of the field to better see the stranger as he takes aim to fire. The anticipation is killing us all as finally the stranger releases his arrow the high pitch wailing sending us all rocketing to our feet as we attempt to see what has become of thnal nal arrow of the tournament.

“Elebreth! He must have the grace of valar his arrow has split Legolas’ clean in two!” Gimli screeches in dismay at Glorfindel’s shocked relation of what we are witness too. I glance hastily over at Breachtian who is smiling widely his gaze firmly fixed with that of the stranger who is staring back at him from the field. I squint a little to attempt to see his face under his cloak but I am unsuccessful and I turn sharply to Breachtian now determined to know who the stranger is.

“Who is he Breachtian, and do not lie to me as you did your sister.” Breachtian spins around quickly from his gaze upon the stranger and he glares at me contemptibly.

“Who he is, is none of your concern father. He is a stranger here but no less welcome than any of your own friends. He is a friend of mine and that is all that should matter.” The party around me fall silent as Breachtian growls at me the fire and anger in his eyes all to close to the surface for my liking.

“If he is a friend why then does he feel the need to conceal himself from us?” I raise an angered eyebrow in Breachtian’s direction acutely aware of the audience that is now silently listening to the argument between my eldest son and me. Breachtian sneers at me with sly contempt before he smiles innocently and gestures to where Legolas is just shaking hands with the stranger.

“Because I would not have you look upon him with contempt like you do with Castile. You may think that none are worthy of my company father but unlike you I will not settle for second best as you did with mother.” Before I can be stopped I draw my hand back and slam it across Breachtian’s cheek sending him sprawling to the floor with a shocked look upon his face. I hear Aratula’s chocked sob from behind me as Breachtian clutches his cheek and scuttles hastily away from me, as he stares up at me with fear.

“Aragorn!” Elrond’s growl echo’s in my mind as I feel my hand being caught from behind by a firm grip to prevent me doing such an action again to my eldest son. I have no intention of hitting him again however and merely shake my head the hurt I feel inside increasing slowly as my anger subsides.

“You will not speak again unless you wish to apologise for what you have just said. I revoke any privileges you had left from the last outburst and I do not want to see you out of your chambers for the next week less I take to your rear with a paddle like I would a child in need of discipline. You have proved yourself to be a child and will be treated thus. You deserve no attention and will be left to reflect on your actions in solitude. Is that understood?” I watch as tears slowly fall down Breachtian’s cheeks as he nods, the reddening handprint across his cheek testament to how much the stinging slap hurt him. I watch as Breachtian cowers in front of me as he rises to his feet. He does not meet any of the shocked gazes around him as he bows to me and turns to run swiftly over to the stranger who now stands alone in the middle of the slowly empting archery field. I watch with anger as the stranger envelopes Breachtian into the folds of his cloak as they both move off into the tree line. I growl low in my throat and spin on my heels to glare at the chancellor who is looking extremely sheepish at the back of my group of friends.

“You better find out who that man is or I will not wait until the end of the week to see you hung, drawn and quartered do you understand?” I point blatantly at my chancellor who shivers visibly. “They can corrupt my court, sever alliances of old, and even attempt to jeopardise my friends but they will not have my son. If Breachtian is not in his room by the final hour of this day I will tie all of you to the trees in the forest and let the wolves take their share.” I ignore the shocked looks upon the faces of my friends around me as I push past Elrond and my chancellor and stride back towards the palace and my private gardens for some solitude. Hopefully this final straw with my court is the last one and they will learn from their mistakes and attempt to fix the ones they have already made.

TBC………………….