Darian arrived in Minas Tirith an hour before sunrise. It was a long journey but he had made it in good time. There were some people at the appointed place, but he decided that he would see the nearest inn and have a warm drink, before he set out again.
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Now, he sat upon the horse that was given to him by Sir Mindalel. He looked into his saddlebags as he sat atop the beast, and he rummaged throught the rations. It looked pretty good, so he was satisfied.
The wind blew the cold snow into his face, so he pulled his cloak tighter around him and pulled his hood down over his face. He felt that the messengars had probably been ambushed by the enemy. Either orcs or traitors from Gondor. But it wasn't very possible that an orc raiding party could penetrate this far into Gondor without being seen and attacked. There was some treachery in this, he felt, that went deeper than his rank. This wouldn't be a seek-and-destroy misison, like what he had been doing in Ithilien with Captain Faramir. They would have to go about this quietly if they didn't want to have Mordor's eye on them.
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In nomini domine saboath sui filique ite ad infernos.
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