towers

878 the two towers
flower again in the courts of the kings, and the Silver Crown
return, and Minas Tirith in peace: Minas Anor again as of
old, full of light, high and fair, beautiful as a queen among
other queens: not a mistress of many slaves, nay, not even a
kind mistress of willing slaves. War must be, while we defend
our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do
not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for
its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that
which they defend: the city of the Men of Númenor; and I
would have her loved for her memory, her ancientry, her
beauty, and her present wisdom. Not feared, save as men
may fear the dignity of a man, old and wise.
‘So fear me not! I do not ask you to tell me more. I do
not even ask you to tell me whether I now speak nearer the
mark. But if you will trust me, it may be that I can advise
you in your present quest, whatever that be – yes, and even
aid you.’
Frodo made no answer. Almost he yielded to the desire
for help and counsel, to tell this grave young man, whose
words seemed so wise and fair, all that was in his mind.
But something held him back. His heart was heavy with fear
and sorrow: if he and Sam were indeed, as seemed likely, all
that was now left of the Nine Walkers, then he was in sole
command of the secret of their errand. Better mistrust undeserved
than rash words. And the memory of Boromir, of the
dreadful change that the lure of the Ring had worked in him,
was very present to his mind, when he looked at Faramir and
listened to his voice: unlike they were, and yet also much
akin.
They walked on in silence for a while, passing like grey
and green shadows under the old trees, their feet making no
sound; above them many birds sang, and the sun glistened
on the polished roof of dark leaves in the evergreen woods of
Ithilien.
Sam had taken no part in the conversation, though he had
listened; and at the same time he had attended with his keen