Aragon raced up the hill, following the trail of Boromir™'s blood.
  "If I read that sign aright," he said to himself, looking at the large
sign pointing at the summit, with "SUMMIT" in large runes written on it,
"that is the way to the summit."
  He ran up to the summit, not pausing until he reached the top. There he
found the palantir, which was rumoured to have been made by the famed 
Feenamint Industries Plc. itself. Swiftly he inserted a quarter, and placed 
his eye to the eyepiece, and started to point the device at the boats, for he
suspected Frodo would be going there.
  But even as he sought the boats with the device, a great horn blew, and the 
blasts of it smote the hills, just as Mordred violated his parole in once 
doing.
  "Alas! The horn of Boromir™," he said, "Hmm, I suppose I'd better 
make my way down there. Besides, this is just unartistic anyway."
  For although Aragon would be pleased to get Boromir™ out of the way, it 
could be, how shall we put it, inconvenient if he was known to be directly 
responsible.
  Unsheathing his sword, and crying Endurit! Endurit! he ran all the way
down the hill again, and crashed through the trees, to find Boromir™ 
immobile, and lying against a mediocre tree, his cloven horn beside him.
  Aragon knelt beside him and tried to rouse him. But, Boromir™ did not 
move.
  "Yay!", cheered Aragon, his delight undisguised. "Thus passes the heir of
Denethor™, Lord of the Tower of Commerce! One down, two to go!"
  "I heard that!" said Boromir™, slowly.
  "Bother," said Aragon. "But since you're alive, you might as well make
yourself useful. What happened here? What happened to those halflings who 
were supposed to be guarding you?  And more importantly, where is Arwen?"
  "Orcs have taken them," said Boromir™, struggling. "Arwen too, I think,"
he lied, remembering where Aragon's priorities lay.
  "Which way did they go?" asked Aragon.
  "Dunno. I passed out," said Boromir™. "Blood loss, you see."
  Aragon cursed viciously and loudly. Thus it was Lego-lass and Giggly found
him. Giggly had his axe in hand, and Lego-lass her long knife; all her arrows
were spent.
  "Alas!", said Lego-lass, standing well back from Aragon. "I have hunted and
slain-"
  "Oi!", interjected Giggly. "Don't you mean 'we'?"
  "I didn't see you do any slaying, shortarse. Or hunting for that matter."
  "Oh yeah? So why do you think there were so many detached Orc heads around 
the place?"
  "It's quite clear that-"
  Tiring of this, Aragon drew his sword, and waved it around quite 
menacingly. "Can I get some attention round here?... Thank you," he said at 
the sudden and quite expected silence. "Now, Boromir™ here is dead."
  "No I'm not!" objected Boromir™.
  "Yes you are, you'll be stone dead in a minute," said Aragon, kicking
Boromir™ firmly. "Thanks for your concern," he sarcasmed, "but I am Okay,
because I only just got here. But it seems that Arwen has been captured by
the enemy.  We must pursue immediately."
  "But what about the halflings?" asked Lego-lass.
  "They, too, were captured. Alas, we do not know for certain whether the
Ring-bearer is with them, but we must assume the worst."
  "Yes, Frodo was with them," lied Boromir™. "Now will someone help me up?"
  "Come, let us go," said Aragon.
  "Hadn't we better tend to the fallen first?" asked Lego-lass.
  "But we must be swift," said Giggly. "He would not wish us to linger."
  "What I want is to be taken to Minas Tirith™!" declared Boromir™.
  "Very well," said Aragon. Although he did not like the delay, it was, 
perhaps, best to deal with Boromir™. "We will lay you in a boat with your 
weapons and give you to Anduin. Then you shall pass to Disgiliath safely."
  "No I won't!" exclaimed Boromir. "There's a waterfall in the way! It's not
navigable."
  "Ah, but our boats are from Lorien. They are magical, right? Magical boats 
can safely go down waterfalls," blustered Aragon. "Well known fact, that," he
then added.
  "Indeed," said Lego-lass, vaguely suspecting that Aragon did not know the 
truth of his words, but not daring to say.

  They then turned their attention to the fallen Orcs, looking to scavenge
what they could. Lego-lass took all the undamaged arrows she could find,
whilst Giggly collected all the shuriken which had been strangely left under
the orc bodies.
  And Aragon did look upon the slain, and he did say, "I don't recognise the
uniform of these Orcs," for they had shields with the device of a grasping
white hand in the centre of a black field, and on the front of their helmets
they had an S-rune.
  "S is for Sauron," said Giggly. "That's not exactly hard to figure out."
  "Nay, you idiot!" said Lego-lass, "Sauron does not use the Elf-runes, for
he failed to pay the royalties and we got an injunction, which he got round
by using Dwarf-runes, which the Dwerrowsii were only too happy to sell to him-"
  "That's unfair-", shot back Giggly.
  "Nor does he permit his right name to be spelt or spoken," said Aragon. 
"And white is not in his colour-scheme, for it makes it easy to see the dirt.
The Orcs in the service of Barad-dur use the sign of the Bloodshot Eye."
  He pondered a moment. "It's a bit confusing really. I can't think of any 
bad guys whose names start with S apart from Sauron."
  "Shelob?" suggested Giggly.
  "I doubt she'd have an army of Orcs, even if she really does exist. No, I
think what's happened here is a failed attempt at deception. Obviously
these are someone else's forces, perhaps Aruman's, but he wants to decieve
us into thinking they are Sauron's. But because it was done amateurishly,
the deception has failed. Sauron will not be happy if he finds out."

  Later, the remainder of the company dragged Boromir™ to where they
had left the boats, but found only the destroyed remnants of the boats.
  "Alas!" said Aragon. "An ill fate is on us today."
  "Orcs. Must be. No-one else would have destroyed the boats," said Giggly.
  They retrieved what they could find of their baggage, and then fashioned
a crude raft from the boat wreckage. Now, they tied Boromir™ to this, and
made doubly sure the knots were secure, but first taking the precaution of 
knocking him cold. Then, they pushed the raft from the shore out into the 
water and the raft floated south. They watched the raft wane to a dark spot 
against the golden light, and then the screams started.

  "No! You can't do this to me! I'm the Heir to the Stewardship of Gondor™,
you know! I demand you-".
 
  But he was interrupted by the waterfall. The raft vanished downwards. The
River had taken Boromir™ son of Denethor™, and he was out of the way,
at least for the moment.
  "And now, we must follow the Orcs, for they have Arwen," said Aragon. "Oh, 
and the ringbearer," he added.

  It was easy to find the trail of the Orcs, for it was littered with crisp
packets and chewing gum wrappers.
  "No other folk leave such a mess," said Lego-lass. "But the Orcs have
an alliance with the Litter Pickers' Union, who are glad of the extra work."
  "But although they are messy, they are very fast. We shall have to go with
winged speed to catch up," said Aragon, and ran off as fast as he could, with 
Lego-lass and Giggly following.

This chapter of this epic work is presented through the courtesy of Abigail Brady <morwen-aaaaaaat-evilmagic-dawt-org>. Copyright © 2000 by the author. All rights reserved. Some variance between this e-text and the original printed material by Professor Tolkien is inevitable. Using this as an electronic resource for scholarly or research purposes may lead to a certain degree of academic embarassment. All agree that the printed version of the text, available from respectable publishers such as Houghton Mifflin and Ballantine Books, is to be preferred. Boromir™, Denethor™, Minas Tirith™ and Gondor™ are trademarks of Saul Zaentz and Tolkien Enterprises, who hold all merchandising rights to Gondor™ and its subsidiaries. Franchise rights for the Song of the East Wind™, however, are still available.