Erasure
By the time they pull the arrows from Boromir's cooling body, the sweat and pus
and gore on his clothing has dried. The rich burgundy cloth of Gondor, already
faded and fraying from many weeks of travel, shows only faint discolorations
under the arms and around the puncture holes where the material was pierced.
When they have finished cleaning and arranging him in the boat, the subtle
tinges are barely visible.
By the time they wash Boromir's face, the color has blanched from his lips,
which are nearly as pale as the skin surrounding them. Streaks of dirt from the
battle and from Aragorn's fingers rinse away, leaving smooth ashen flesh. On his
hands, too, the skin has turned so fair that hard white sword-calluses and old
scars hardly show. The eyelids begin to grow mottled as if all the color from
Boromir's mouth had migrated to burst the tiny veins, but Aragorn tries not to
look.
By the time they lower Boromir into the boat, the sun has moved westward behind
swift-moving clouds, dimming the brightness that welcomed them to Gondor.
Boromir's hair, now clean and untangled, spreads about his head with diffuse
radiance as well, catching the scattered light reflected from his shield. For a
moment he looks much as he did when Aragorn first saw him with the light behind
him, a bright spot of color in a fading landscape. Then the clouds shift, and it
is the man who fades.
By the time they have loosed the boat upon the Great River, Boromir is still as
a boulder, pale as a statue, already a subject for laments and songs. The
silvery boat blends with the white-gray rapids of the Anduin as it disappears
from view.
by Your Cruise Director
y the time they move Boromir's corpse, all the dark spilled blood has soaked
into the ground. There is only a dark stain on the earth that could be rainwater
drying in the soil and on the leaves.
