Chapter 2
Mr. Butterbur's customers hit the deck and rolled under tables as Will and Halt materialized on one of the few massive tables.
"Ugh!" groaned Halt softly. He shook his foot out of one of the pint sized glasses of ale. But before Will could comment, he gave a yell and was thrown against a wall.
"Ahh!" he let out as his head hit the wall with a sickening crunch. He tried to rise, but found that it made him woozy. A man knelt over him and said, "I wouldn't get up if I were you." Will felt a prickling sensation under his chin and realized the man held a long thin dagger that was biting into his skin like butter.
"Take one stab at him and you're a dead man," growled Halt quite menacingly.
To Aragorn's surprise, he saw that the hooded man held an arrow ready, and by the look of him, knew how to use it.
"Put that away please. There is no need for weapons," he said calmly. Halt snorted under the cowl.
"Unlikely," he muttered, but Aragorn's keen ears picked that up.
"Pardon," he said mildly. "I didn't catch that." Halt's eyes narrowed. He did not like where this was going.
"I said that if you do not let my companion go in thirty seconds, I will put an arrow close to your head and if you do not let go then, I will shoot you in the head. Now let him GO!" But the other man simply cocked his head as if he found this business rather funny.
"Time's up!"
"But that was NOT thirty seconds."
"It is in my book." With that, in one deft movement, Halt let loose his arrow and it arched swiftly and deadly toward Aragorn. Aragorn could feel the wind of it as it whistled by like a ghost. And then, that's when he knew that if provoked, these men could be extremely dangerous, but if friends, could be powerful allies.
"I will release your companion with one condition."
Halt made a noise in his throat, but said, "Go on."
"That you agree to meet in a private place and tell me your story. Where you have come from and how you have come to land here in this very place. But be forewarned: people in these parts do not meddle with rangers like me. I do not take kindly to lies fantasized by others. Are we at an agreement…"
"Halt."
"Halt, then. Do you agree to my terms?" Aragorn looked at Halt in a way that Will put later as a "Halt Look."
Halt stared back for a moment, then inclined his head ever so slightly. Aragorn turned to Will and helped him up.
"Are you alright?" he asked with genuine concern? Will nodded, and said, "Just a little surprised. You caught me off guard there." Aragorn smiled.
"It's what we rangers do," he said simply. We sure do thought Will ruefully, but not without a hint of humor. He was curious. Who was this raggedly dressed, yet similarly dressed man? Why does he share the same traits as Araluen Rangers? And so, lost in his thoughts, Will followed the two older Rangers. Behind him, he could hear the room's occupants beginning to stir again and go back to their previous activities now that the drama was over. Aragorn opened a door and locked it behind them. Motioning them to be silent, he crept silently over to the curtains and dulled the candles next to the window.
"Now it's safe to talk. Mr. Butterbur would ensure that at the least," he said. "Now, to business, why are you here. How did you come? Where from? Please, tell me."
"We come from Araluen," said Halt eventually after a moment's silence. "And we are rangers of Araluen."
"Araluen? Where is this land you speak of?" asked Aragorn curiously. Will, confused, said, "From, here, we do not know." Aragorn's eyebrows rose at that.
"We came by some magical transport," continued, but stopped abruptly at a glare from Halt. "By some unknown means of transport," he amended quickly, hoping Aragorn would not be able to read the silent communication between them, but that was not to be.
"You do not believe in magic do you? Just as well then. I will tell you what I know of magic once your tale is over, but I can tell that you are not with the enemy; therefore, I feel as though I can trust the both of you. Before you continue, my name is Aragorn son of Arathorn, Isildur's heir." The two Araluen rangers did not know what quite to say to that, but merely inclined their heads respectfully.
"Anyways, we were simply camping at nightfall when I found a strange arrow by the side of the road. It stabbed me in the palm," said Will, holding up a roughly bandaged hand. Aragorn gave a start and said, "What did this arrow look like?" Will and Halt quickly described it for they did not have it. It had been shot before they were transported.
Aragorn thought quickly. It had to be an Uru-Khai arrow, and from Saruman's tower. That was NOT good. He arose quickly and said, "Our tales will have to wait, unfortunately. A shame it is really, but now having heard part of your tale, or merely the beginning, we must leave at once."
"What?" demanded Halt, irritably?
"I fear, that that wound on your companion..."
"Will," Will filled in for him.
"Will," conceded Aragorn. "Is far more severe than you have come to believe." Aragorn wrenched the bandage off of Will's hand and sighed with concern. The wound was turning a sickly blue and greenish color. Will gave a gasp of surprise.
"Does it feel cold there?" asked Aragorn urgently.
Now that he mentioned it, it did feel a little chilled.
"Just slightly chilled," said Will. "But it's fine." But Aragorn shook his head vigorously in disagreement.
"No, Will, it's not. I fear that you have been injected with a poison with no antidote. Your only hope lies with the elves if any at all.
