Boromir's Return -II- Book Four of the Tales of the Fourth Age Series

Chapter Eighteen: Traitor

Fo.A 2, August 25th

Boromir could not believe his eyes. "Gwen, what have you done?"

Gwendil paled. "I can explain, Boromir!"

"You had better," Boromir replied angrily, indicating the tattoo. "Because this looks like-"

"There she is!"

Boromir and Gwen turned in unison to see Beregond striding towards them, trailed by four guards. Beregond was pointing at them. "Bring both of them for questioning, we need to find out what they know."

"We need to run," Gwen whispered. "Those people are members of the Black Tree."

"Do you know who that is?" Boromir said under his breath.

"Yes," she shot back, "which is why I'm even bothering to warn you!"

The certainty in her voice gave him pause, and a sliver of doubt formed in his mind. He couldn't believe that the famed Beregond would turn against his own people, let alone Faramir, his lord.

The guards were now at the foot of the bridge, with Beregond standing a few feet farther back. Boromir commanded them to halt; they didn't, and by the look in their eyes, they didn't plan too.

As the guards reached them, Boromir let out a mighty bellow and tackled two of them, knocking the other two off balance. One of them pitched over the rail into the river, slipping beneath the waters, leaving the other for Gwen to handle.

Boromir rolled to his feet and landed a blow to Beregond's ribs with a satisfying crack before taking his sword. The guards, though dazed, were back on their feet and already moving to flank him. Boromir quickly realized that brute strength would not be enough, he'd need to outthink them as well.

Graceful as an elf, not clumsy as a drunken cave troll.

Boromir smiled, remembering one of the elvish fighting stances Údar had taught him, and probably the one he'd enjoyed the most. He crouched down on his right leg, left leg extended towards his path of motion, and sword flat across his left arm as he counted.

One.

The guards hesitated for a moment, then they rushed him.

Two.

They had been a mere ten feet from him when they charged, swords high and ready for the kill.

Three.

As their swords came down, Boromir pushed with all his might off his right foot, twisting his body as he rose back towards the spot he'd been, bringing the sword down as he did. The guards' swords clanged as they hit, then once more as Boromir's blade hewed through them, and he used the momentum of his body to land an elbow to one man's temple as he brought his sword arm back around to land an identical blow on the other man; they both dropped to the ground motionless.

The fight had lasted no longer than a couple minutes, and it was over. Boromir stood over them in disgust, then stooped to check their wrists, finding tattoo's on both. A piercing scream made him turn, and he saw a bloody sword-point sticking through the last of the guards' back. He fell onto the bridge, revealing Gwen who was covered in blood, but whose, Boromir could not tell.

"Traitors! Murderers!"

Boromir looked back toward Beregond who was holding his side as he hobbled back towards the party, which at this point had come to a stop. Aragorn, Legolas, and Halbarad were running towards them, shouting.