EXPOSED TO THE LIGHT
PROLOGUE
ANGMAR: YEAR 2951, THIRD AGE
Legolas glanced at Aragorn, who sat beside him at the Rangers' campfire, about fifty miles northeast of the Hoarwell River. They were not far from the Witch-king's old kingdom that had been deserted since 1975 when Elrond and Círdan had defeated the evil lord in battle. For many days they had been traveling with a dozen of the Dúnedain Rangers, scouring the area for unusually large numbers of Orcs that had reportedly been seen in the area by Mirkwood scouts. They had chosen to camp in a shallow ravine through which ran a small, muddy creek. They set up the fire upon its banks.
"Where are we, Aragorn?" asked the Elf as quietly as he could manage so that he would not be overheard by the other Rangers and subsequently embarrass himself and Aragorn by admitting their lack of awareness of their whereabouts.
"Do you not know, Legolas?" Aragorn's raspy voice hissed the question. "Were you not tracking our journey as we went along? I am not yet accomplished enough to have been able to determine our location, but you should be."
"Well, I'm not!" Legolas retorted to the twenty-year-old Dúnadan, leaning close to his ear. "I was too occupied using my eyes to hunt in the treetops for Orcs. Thus I was not paying any attention to our progress over ground. That was supposed to be your job!" His bright eyes flashed, reflecting a fiery orange glow from the blazing campfire.
"I just told you!" Aragorn cried out loud. "I have not yet learned—" He broke off when he realized all the other Rangers had stopped what they were doing and began to stare at the two of them. His face flushed hotly and he cast an angry glance at the Elf, who coldly ignored him.
"Not yet learned what, young one?" asked Halbarad, the Ranger's leader, rising to his feet and walking to Aragorn's side. He was a tall, stern-faced Man with perpetual stubble of wiry dark hair upon his face.
"How to track properly," replied Aragorn, looking sheepish.
"Do you wish to learn how to track well?" asked Halbarad, looking at Aragorn with beneficent interest.
"Yes, I would. Truly," Aragorn replied, trying to muster a serious expression despite the urge to squirm and burst into laughter because the Elf beside him was surreptitiously dropping bits of broken twigs down the collar of his tunic.
"That is commendable, Estel," said Halbarad. "How much do you know already?" He turned away in order to walk several yards behind them to his horse and retrieve something from its saddlebag.
Aragorn used the opportunity when Halbarad was not looking to give Legolas a swift but hard jab with his elbow, intended for the ribs. The Elf sensed it and dodged neatly to the side, shifting himself just out of range of Aragorn's limbs. The elbow caught a fold of his jerkin but made no contact with his person. He smiled sweetly at Aragorn who gave him a quick, furious look. When Halbarad turned back to them, the Elf graced him with the same sweet smile.
"Ah," said Aragorn, looking as if he was thinking hard. "I know that moss grows on the north side of trees, that it is easier to track footprints in mud than on dry ground, and that it is almost impossible to track someone through water."
Halbarad gave him a look of surprise tinged with slight disgust. "You are not really making an effort, are you?" he asked. "Those are all defensive strategies and basic ones at that. Is that the extent of your knowledge?"
Aragorn nodded and tried not to break into laughter. He cast a sideways glance at Legolas who was trying with all his self-control to suppress a gale of laughter.
"How old are you, Aragorn?" asked Halbarad.
"Twenty," said the young man.
"Ah, then you are but a lad," said the Ranger. "But that does not explain the behaviour of your companion, who looks to be several centuries past his majority."
The glow from the campfire hid the fact that Legolas' cheeks had turned pink at the rebuke from Halbarad. He was prevented from making a retort by the approach of Vëandur, one of the scouts who had been sent ahead to search the area north of them.
"Halbarad!" the scout called to the head Ranger. There was an urgent note to his voice. He began to speak to Halbarad, their heads pressed together, talking in hushed voices.
Presently Halbarad returned to Legolas, Aragorn and the other Rangers, who all remained seated and were staring up at them.
"Vëandur tells me that he has seen another campfire about a league north of here," said Halbarad.
"Other Rangers do you think?" asked one Man.
"I doubt it very much," said Halbarad. "Who would it be? We are the only group, to my knowledge, that has come this far to look for Orcs. It could be an Orc encampment, and I do not wish to find out in the middle of the night that it is, indeed, Orcs. I think some of us should go to investigate right away. I will need you, Legolas," he gestured toward the Elf. "Your night vision and your prowess with bow and arrow will be of value if these people indeed turn out to be the enemy. And you will show us the way, Vëandur."
"Can I come too?" asked Aragorn.
Halbarad paused for a moment and studied the young man carefully. "Yes, very well," he said finally. "It will be a good opportunity for you to learn better tracking skills." He finished buckling his sword-belt and whistled for his horse. The others joined him, retrieving their horses that were nervous and unsettled about being saddled so late at night, and mounting the skittish steeds. Halbarad explained to the remaining Rangers where the small party was going, and soon they were off, flying through the darkness upon the swift and sure-footed animals.
It did not take the small party long to reach the site of the strange campfire that Vëandur had seen. They dismounted downwind and left the horses well-hidden in a stand of spruce trees. Legolas, with his ability to see in the dark, made sure the mounts were tied securely and would not wander away while their masters crept toward the alien campsite.
"Use your nose," Halbarad whispered to Aragorn. "What scents to you detect?"
Aragorn sniffed, his nose pointed upwards. "I smell the fire, and it overwhelms some of the other odors—but I sense an animal smell too. Although it is so faint I cannot discern whether it is man or beast."
"Or Orc?" asked Halbarad.
"No, it is not an Orc," said Vëandur, interrupting the lesson. "It is a dog or dogs. And there is another scent I cannot quite determine—it is vaguely human, but strangely so."
"Let us move closer so that we will have a better chance to see them. Legolas, can you see anything?" Halbarad and the others crept toward the campsite on their stomachs along the ground until they could see figures seated in a circle with a large fire in the center.
"Yes," the Elf whispered when they were within view. "There are ten men—they look like men, though they are all hooded and cloaked—but they have the shapes of Men. They are feeding a dog—it looks as if they are feeding it scraps of meat—each of them is feeding it—within their circle."
"Ah. I thought I picked up the scent of dog," said Vëandur. "And if these beings are Men and not Orcs, and have with them a dog, then they are likely not our enemy. Should we backtrack, retrieve the horses, and go to rejoin our company?"
"Wait—oh, Gods!" cried Legolas, raising a pale hand to cover his mouth.
"What is it?" Halbarad asked him sharply.
"They have killed the dog," hissed Legolas, his bared teeth showing white in the darkness, just a pale glow from the distant fire lighting his face. "They have slit its throat. Why would they kill a pet?" He turned back to peer again at the strange group of beings and soon uttered a gasp of horror.
"What now, Legolas?" cried Halbarad.
"They have cut him open," said Legolas. "And now they are removing something from his body. I cannot see what it is exactly, but it looks like a large chunk of meat—and it glistens in the firelight." He turned to Halbarad, his breath a white wisp of steam, the scent of it acrid with fear. "Ai, Elbereth," he cried softly. "They have cut it into ten pieces and they now eat it—raw and fresh-killed. They have thrown the carcass on the fire."
When he said this, the fire sparked suddenly larger and the four comrades were lit, exposed in the sudden brightness of the flare as they lay upon the hilltop overlooking the strange campsite.
"What should we do?" asked Vëandur. "They have not done anything to hurt us. It is but an animal they have killed. Perhaps they were starving."
"No. Why would starving people feed a dog and then kill it?" asked Halbarad, shaking his head. "Food is plentiful hereabouts. This does not make sense. I do not like the feeling I have, but it is true these people have done nothing to harm us."
"I think we should leave them alone and go back," said Vëandur.
"I would like to go down there and talk to them," said Aragorn, who until this time had remained silent.
"No, Estel! Why would you say such a thing?" asked Halbarad, a note of shock in his voice.
"There was something reminiscent of a ritualistic sacrifice in their actions that intrigues me," said the young Man. "I have read about such things in Master Elrond's library in Imladris. I would like to find out who they are and why they did such a thing. I am very much interested in unusual human behavior."
"I do not think that is a wise idea," said Halbarad. "I, for one, do not wish to meet them. They may not be human, for all we know. Come, let us go back."
Aragorn sighed. He was disappointed, and Legolas, who was already standing, reached down and grasped Aragorn's arm, pulling him to his feet.
"I can stand by myself," said the young Man, wresting his arm from Legolas' grip.
The Elf and Rangers turned away and began to walk back to the grove of trees where they had left their horses. The sudden sound of a cracking twig caused all four to turn around, and they found themselves set upon by men bearing clubs. Aragorn was first to fall, having sustained a blow to the side of his head.
"Aragorn!" shrieked Legolas, and immediately reached for his bow, but he was grabbed from behind by two men and a third yanked the bow from his hands.
After a short struggle, Halbarad and Vëandur had slain their attackers with knives, but could only watch in horror as both Aragorn and Legolas were dragged away toward the campfire. The ten people who had been sitting around it were now standing. Many more figures materialized out of the shadows surrounding it and began running toward the Rangers who stood open-mouthed, gaping in terror.
"Come on!" cried Halbarad, gathering his senses, and he and Vëandur turned and ran for their lives.
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