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Lords of Gondor 61 - 'He Looks Like Boromir'
Merry stood unheeded amidst the ruin that remained after the battle with the Nazgûl upon its winged beast. The King lay dead nearby, crushed by his faithful steed, while Éowyn lay in a crumpled heap where she had collapsed after dealing the Black Rider his death blow. Merry watched through his tears as Éomer and his men rode away at a fast pace to engage in battle to avenge the King and Éowyn; he could still hear them shouting, "Death! Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world’s ending!"
He could hardly believe all that had happened in such a short time -- the coming of the Black Rider upon that horrible, evil winged creature; the King's fall; Dernhelm's stalwart opposition as he faced the terror of the Ringwraith in defense of his lord; the revelation that Dernhelm was none other than Éowyn, the sister of Éomer and close kin to the King...
It was hard to believe that the Ringwraith Lord was actually defeated, but the empty mantle and hauberk that lay nearby was proof, as well as the memory of the shrill wailing cry that faded into nothing, passing away on the wind, leaving behind it deep relief and a lightness of heart.
The lightness and relief after the destruction of evil did not last long, however. Merry looked around at the ruin and death left by the fierce battle and his heart ached.
If only Gandalf had been here! he lamented. He could have saved them, surely!
He sighed heavily and bent to retrieve his shield which he slung on his back. He could not use his right arm, for it was numb and useless ever since he had pierced the Nazgûl with his sword in defense of Éowyn. He searched for the weapon, but all he found was the hilt; even as he picked it up from the flattened and bloodied grass, the blade disappeared as if melting into smoke so that nothing was left but the hilt. The blade that had dared to strike the evil Ringwraith was no more.
No matter! Merry thought. It did what was needed and gave the Lady Éowyn the opening she needed to destroy the enemy.
Tucking the sword hilt away, Merry watched as men of Rohan charged with caring for the dead King prepared a bier to carry him away to the City, and with him, Éowyn and others of the King's men who had fallen. Merry set out with them when all was ready, walking slowly and sadly, trying to keep up with their pace. He was so, so tired and the pain in his body increased with every step; he shivered uncontrollably so that he could hardly walk straight. It began to rain, and the rain mixed with his tears so that he walked as if in a mist.
He wondered how long it would take them to get to the City. Looking up, he gazed ahead as best he could to the white walls in the distance and saw a vanguard of knights of Gondor riding towards them.
Their leader looks like Boromir, he thought, and surprised himself by smiling at the observation. Do all the Men of Gondor actually look like him, or do I just miss seeing him that much? I hope Boromir is safe, I wonder where he is now on this battlefield? I wish he were here now!
***
Merry watched for a moment as Prince Imrahil rode away with his knights to join the battle in aid of the Rohirrim, smiling to himself as he recalled his observation that he resembled to Boromir.
I was right, he thought. He looks like Boromir because he is a close relative! How amazing that I could meet him! A prince he said he was, Imrahil or some such name. Did Boromir ever speak of him, I wonder? I don't remember. He was very kind, even though he was in a hurry to go seek Boromir and then help the Riders with their fight. He paid attention to me, knowing I am a Halfling. He mentioned Gandalf and Pippin -- thank goodness they are okay right now! He asked after my health so I told him I am not wounded, just tired. But I don't think he believed me, really. I hope he won't worry Boromir when he meets him. That's why I asked him if he could give Boromir a message for me. He smiled when I asked that, I don't know why -- but the Prince said he would be happy to bear any message I might want to give to Boromir. So I told him to tell him not to worry, that I'm fine and I will see him when he finishes his fighting, and I hope he is careful and stays safe.
"Please stay safe, Boromir!" Merry said aloud, then turning back, he hurried to catch up to the group that slowly moved towards the City, carrying the slain King Théoden, and the gravely wounded Éowyn.
Merry's heart rejoiced at the thought that Éowyn still lived; he hoped they would reach safety in time to be brought to the healers. It was still a long way to Gate, or so it seemed to him, and the going was slowed even further by the wreck and ruin of the battle that had taken place before the City -- smoldering fire pits, the wreckage of burned siege engines, carcasses of gigantic beasts and piles and piles of slain Orcs and Men and who knows what other kind of creatures. Gazing ahead at the ruin before him, Merry's joy at the news of Éowyn alive was lost in a great wave of weariness. Tears once again blinded him and he felt numb.
"I hope I make it to the City," he muttered. "I hope I can keep up! I can't wait to be done with fighting, to just sit for awhile and rest. That's what I need now, just a bit of rest..."
***
Boromir and his men pressed on towards the place on the battlefield whence they best judged the fading cry of the Nazgûl had come; Orcs fell before them, yet they were fleeing rather than fighting. It seemed as though they had lost their will to fight with what must have been the death cry of one of the evil Black Riders.
There came a moment of quiet when no enemy was nearby, so they halted to give their mounts a moment of rest. At Boromir's bidding, Henderch rode ahead to see what he could see of the battlefield, but he quickly returned.
"They are fleeing eastward towards Osgiliath, my lord," Henderch announced. "We can pursue them if you wish, but from what I can see in the distance, reinforcements are on their way in great numbers from Mordor; they will be too great a foe for our small group."
"I thought as much," Boromir replied, his tone grave. "Did you see aught of the Rohirrim or the King and his guard?"
"Nay, I cannot see where they might be for certain, though I can guess well enough from the banners and the press of Men and Orcs in the distance. My eyesight is keen enough but the darkness of Mordor still hinders my vision, along with the smoke from the fires, especially eastward towards the River."
"Yet you have seen something of note," Boromir countered. "You were not long away and you return with a look upon your face that tells me something of great import lies ahead!"
"Yes, I have seen much of note!" replied Henderch, nodding vigorously. "Men approach from the direction of the City; a large number on horse, engaging in battle with Orcs and Easterlings. They are not so far away from our current position -- close enough for me to know them in spite of the darkness and murk, for their banners and armor are bright and unmistakable. It is Prince Imrahil and his knights, my Lord! I believe I also saw Lord Húrin the Tall with them, and no doubt there are other Men of Gondor who are known to you in the company."
"You bring us good news, Henderch!" Boromir cried joyfully. "Let us go as swiftly as we may to join them. I fear our current fortune in being able fight unscathed against such great numbers will not hold much longer; we must join their number for our own safety against this foe. Perhaps they seek to aid King Théoden; coming from the City, they would have some understanding of how the battle is going and where we should take our fight. And surely my kinsman will have news for me of my father and my brother!"
"You alive and well for the most part will also surely be news to him!" said Grithnir with a grin.
"Indeed!" Boromir laughed. "Let us go surprise him, then, and join their company to continue our fight!"
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