towers

the window on the west 885
of Boromir my brother, and of old Mithrandir, and of the
fair people of Lothlórien.’
Frodo no longer felt sleepy and he was willing to talk. But
though the food and wine had put him at his ease, he had
not lost all his caution. Sam was beaming and humming to
himself, but when Frodo spoke he was at first content to
listen, only occasionally venturing to make an exclamation of
agreement.
Frodo told many tales, yet always he steered the matter
away from the quest of the Company and from the Ring,
enlarging rather on the valiant part Boromir had played in all
their adventures, with the wolves of the wild, in the snows
under Caradhras, and in the mines of Moria where Gandalf
fell. Faramir was most moved by the story of the fight on the
bridge.
‘It must have irked Boromir to run from Orcs,’ he said, ‘or
even from the fell thing you name, the Balrog – even though
he was the last to leave.’
‘He was the last,’ said Frodo, ‘but Aragorn was forced to
lead us. He alone knew the way after Gandalf ’s fall. But had
there not been us lesser folk to care for, I do not think that
either he or Boromir would have fled.’
‘Maybe, it would have been better had Boromir fallen there
with Mithrandir,’ said Faramir, ‘and not gone on to the fate
that waited above the falls of Rauros.’
‘Maybe. But tell me now of your own fortunes,’ said Frodo,
turning the matter aside once again. ‘For I would learn more
of Minas Ithil and Osgiliath, and Minas Tirith the longenduring.
What hope have you for that city in your long
war?’
‘What hope have we?’ said Faramir. ‘It is long since we
had any hope. The sword of Elendil, if it returns indeed, may
rekindle it, but I do not think that it will do more than put
off the evil day, unless other help unlooked-for also comes,
from Elves or Men. For the Enemy increases and we
decrease. We are a failing people, a springless autumn.
‘The Men of Númenor were settled far and wide on the