Chapter 19
Teleziel awoke gradually, feeling the small aches and pains of an abused body as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. Most of the pain from his rape had greatly diminished and he no longer was really aware of it, unless he thought about it. The newer pains were his own doing and he regretted what he’d done, had done so even as he’d taken the knife to his skin and tissues. Now, as he turned his head and saw Faramir’s empty cot next to his, he regretted his choice even more. Had he been successful, he’d have missed the opportunity to tell Captain Faramir how he felt, and more importantly, to discover the captain felt the same. Teleziel smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, remembering Faramir’s long good night kiss.
“You are rather attractive when you smile,” Damrod said as he set a bowl and a cup down beside the bed.
Teleziel opened his eyes and blushed. “I have not felt like smiling in a good many days.”
Perching on the cot, Damrod helped Teleziel up right. “And now?”
Teleziel ducked his head and felt the heat on his cheeks increase. He wasn’t sure what to say to this man who was both friend and comrade to Captain Faramir. He wasn’t certain that he should say anything at all about what happened between himself and Faramir, but he couldn’t contain his happiness, either. “I am finding my own path.”
Damrod held up the bowl. “Maybe it will lead you to eat more.”
Teleziel picked up the spoon with steady hands and took a bite. The rich broth warmed him all the way through and he found, to his amazement, that he was ravenous. When he’d finished the bowl, he looked around, licking his lips and wishing for more food. As if reading his mind, Damrod produced a piece of warm flatbread drizzled lightly with butter and honey. Teleziel couldn’t remember when he’d tasted anything so good and in no time, the bread, like the broth, vanished.
“I am told,” spoke Damrod conversationally, “that I am to allow you to move around as much as you like. Captain Faramir seems to think you will be fit to travel with us when we leave here.”
This gave Teleziel a moment’s pause. Did Damrod know? And if he did, what would he think? Cautiously, he tried to explain the captain’s reasoning, but the Ranger held up a hand. “Captain Faramir says you travel with us, that’s all I need to know.”
Teleziel understood that Faramir had said something, judging by Damrod’s tone and he swallowed his trepidation. “I will not betray him.”
“You’d better not,” Damrod replied conversationally. “Mablung would not take it well.”
A horrible thought crossed Teleziel’s mind and he spoke his mind before he really considered the idea. “Does Mablung have feelings for Captain Faramir?”
Damrod’s laughter took Teleziel by surprise. “No, little Haradrim, you have no competition there, I assure you. Come, let’s get you up and moving, shall we?”
*~*
Mablung walked silently through the forest just a few paces west of Faramir. Together they patrolled an area recently over run with orcs and, still cautious, they made no sound as they moved among the fallen pine needles scouting for the enemy. Mablung worried as he walked since he’d only discovered this morning what Faramir planned for the Haradrim. He didn’t know quite what to make of it, nor was he sure how to feel about it. He was slowly coming to grips with his friend’s feelings for the Haradrim, and was even learning to accept Teleziel on his own, albeit odd, terms. But to fight beside him seemed beyond the pale as far as Mablung was concerned. One glance at the set of Faramir’s jaws, however, told him that he should keep those thoughts to himself.
More to the point, Mablung thought grimly, was his mission. He was ordered to find suitable armor and a weapon for the prisoner, something that would disguise his obvious heritage and have the advantage of fitting him properly, now that his weight was significantly lessened by his illness. Also, there was a small matter of a weapon. They had nothing really to spare and what they did have was undoubtedly more than Teleziel could wield, under the circumstances. Besides all that, did they really want the Haradrim loose among them wielding a weapon?
He glanced toward where Minas Tirith should be and shivered as a shadow crossed over the sun. In only a few days, he’d return to his own city, but what would he find? Not peace, certainly. War and death were the rulers of Gondor and the peace of the great forests and mountains would soon be shattered by the sounds of clashing metal. He did not like to think that last night might be the last time he and Damrod spent together for a long time. He grinned behind his mask as he thought about their love-making. He’d steal another moment or two for that, he thought, as moved from shadow to shadow.
Faramir, too, remained lost in his own thoughts as he moved quickly and silently through the forest. His eyes constantly scanned his surroundings even as his mind scanned his heart and motives. What would his men think of him as he dressed up his pretty prisoner in Gondorian armor and gave him a sword? Would they mutiny or simply allow him his little pet?
He glanced towards Mablung’s shadow and wondered. Damrod’s patience was unlimited, but Mablung was a different matter altogether. He would not take kindly to being Teleziel’s permanent sitter. Yet, that was exactly what Faramir had decided to do. Turning, he moved closer to Mablung and motioned him back. When Mablung joined him, they moved through the trees in the direction of a grove that they were certain neither the orcs nor the Haradrim had yet discovered. They walked beneath the thickly laced branches and emerged in a rock strewn depression in the center of the trees. Immediately, Faramir removed his mask and allowed the air to cool his skin. Mablung did likewise and they sat together on a boulder, sharing a flask of water.
“You didn’t bring me here for the view, captain,” Mablung said as he passed the flask.
“I want you to stay with Teleziel from now until we reach Osgiliath.”
Mablung started from the boulder as if he would stand and shout his protest, but remained seated after much indecision. “You mean he will really be allowed to fight?”
“It’s what he wants, Mablung. He wants to prove his manhood and to, I think, he wishes to have his revenge on those who misused him.”
“You’d better give him back the knife in that case,” Mablung muttered harshly. When he caught sight of Faramir’s expression, he had the grace to duck his head. “I’m not sure where we’re going to find armor and weapons for him, but we’ll cobble something together. Are you sure he’ll be strong enough for battle?”
“Honestly, no. I can send him by litter to Minas Tirith and allow him to be tortured by my father’s people or I can let him march to Osgiliath and hope he’s strong enough to fight. Either way, there are risks.”
“Captain, I know you’ve made up your mind. I understand how you feel about the prisoner, and I can accept that. But do you really want him fighting at your side? How do you know he can be trusted?”
“He gave me his word, Mablung. I believe him. Besides, what else is there? If he’s willing to fight, can we afford to turn him away? We don’t have enough men as it is. Every one who can wield a weapon is a great prize for us. Every extra sword is one more opportunity to win this war.”
Mablung pulled his mask back over his face. “Yes, captain, I agree. If we’re going to get the company ready to move out, I suggest we get back to the falls.”
*~*
Teleziel sat with his legs folded and stared at the armor assembled for him on the edge of the cot. There was a leather breastplate, greaves, and a gorget along with an extra padded shirt that was much patched and worn. Someone else had donated a sword, such as it was, that had probably belonged to him as a child. It was light weight and slim bladed and would probably suit the Haradrim quite well. A wood and leather shield completed his kit. The whole ensemble was mismatched, but Teleziel didn’t care. He wrapped his long fingers around the sword hilt and hefted it. The weapon was heavy and he had to set it back down as it taxed his strength. He tried not to allow his frustration to gain the better of him, but he knew from his earlier walk around what Damrod called the Sacred Falls that he was in no shape to do what he’d promised.
He felt his palms itch in the way that they did when he was scared or nervous and the urge to maim himself became stronger. Damrod had told him to try counting when the urge came over him, and should that fail, find Faramir or someone else to talk to until the need passed. He wasn’t certain the plan would work, but he was willing to try if not for his own sake, then for Faramir’s.
“Teleziel?”
The Haradrim came to himself with a start and looked up to see Faramir looming over him. “They brought me my armor.”
“It’s the best we can do.” Faramir leaned down and picked up the gorget and examined it closely. It was old, probably left over from some patrol twenty years before his time.
“I do not mind,” Teleziel retrieved the gorget and laid it back on the bed, next to the rest of the armor. “I am not sure how to wear it, though, since we don’t wear this kind of armor. Mablung said he would show me after dinner.”
“He’s a good man,” Faramir ran his hands over the stubble of Teleziel’s scalp.
“He is loyal to you and that makes me happy,” Teleziel raised himself up on his knees and turned his face up to Faramir.
Faramir stared into the dark eyes and smiled for a moment before stealing a quick kiss. “I should enjoy these while I can. In a few days, we won’t have time for them.”
“Perhaps you should get as many as you can.”