All Disclaimers apply.
Archet was in danger. Calder Cob had set me up. I ran back to the farm to confront him. He was surprised to see me. "How...how did a weakling like you defeat the Wolf Master?" He recovered from his shock quickly. He began to whisper. "It doesn't matter... the old fool Brackenbrook believes that I have been loyal to Archet since I was a lad. This town will fall and I will have more gold than you can imagine." The spark in his eyes was that of greed. "You better make yourself scarce Danagor, or you will be dead along with the rest of them tonight."
The guard behind him narrowed his eyes and stood up from his comrade whose leg was now bandaged fully. Strider would have to know about this treachery. I ran as fast as I could back to Archet. Strider was still tending Amdir. Breathless I caught my breath before speaking. "Brackenbrook sent me to Calder Cob, who was having a wolf problem but he is the wolf that preys on Archet." Strider stood up. "It appears danger has found you more quickly than I had thought. How did that Blackwold know your name and your task if he never left his post?" I kept the information that the Iron Crown of Angmar had been branded on the wolves to myself. Strider had enough on his mind.
Strider was now preparing a salve. "Brackenbrook will not believe your story without evidence or the word of another Blackwold. While you were gone, I listened to some of the local talk at the market and heard there is a Blackwold brigand in the stocks, across the lane from here. He is being held for highway robbery. You should question him about Calder Cob." Looking over my shoulder, I saw a wall made of metal bars and a door held firmly into place in an ally between the guard house and a shop. It was set so far in that those looking straight down the lane couldn't see it.
Sure enough, a man was being held in the stocks. As I approached I could hear his shouts. "Let me go! I'm a friend of Calder Cob's, and I'm innocent! This idiot jailor won't listen." The jailor was standing off to one side frowning. "Caldor Cob is a traitor to Archet, you won't be getting out of there." The brigand turned to me and grinned. "You think you know the plan? It's too late! My friends from the south will soon be here and war will come to the North. After that you might find yourself in chains." He boasted loudly.
The jailor walked up to me. "I believe you. This man has been boasting about his release to me for hours and everyone has heard about your questioning of the Constable if Archet was in danger. If Brackenbrook doesn't believe you Danagor, you can tell him Ned Pruner does." Twice in one day someone knows my name without meeting them. Actions did speak louder than words. I replied with my suspicions of something darker. "I only hope that the warning is in time."
Ned unlocked the stocks and dragged the struggling Blackwold to the jail. I could hear the scuffles and the clang of cell door as it was shut. I walked over to Brackenbrook he was manning the gates, keeping an eye on the road south. "Brackenbrook, Caldor Cob is a traitor to Archet and has attempted to kill me." The captain whirled around disbelief on his face. "That is a serious charge, Danagor. Calder Cob has been loyal to this town since he was a boy." This man was used to peace and the occasional scuffle, but a traitor was unknown to him. "Ned Pruner believes the threat and a captured brigand has been boasting that his friends are preparing in the south."
"If what you say is true, Cal Sprigley would know of the threat in the south. As his farm is close to the gate leading to Combe." Brackenbrook had begun to pale slightly, but he held himself together. "If the threat is real, then we are in trouble." I began jogging down the path, rounding Calder Cob's farm and into the woods. The path seemed to wind it's way on the borders of the Chetwood. The path forked and I took the path that went away from the main path that led to a gate by the wagon tracks and horse hoofs.
The farm was surrounded by high stone walls and was more suited for a woodmen's trade then farming. A man clad in leather and a black beard stood outside the gate, watching the road that led to his farm. "Are you Cal Sprigley?" The man shook my hand. "You found him, but I don't know your name stranger." "Danagor." I greeted and got right to the point. "Brackenbrook sent me to see if brigands were giving you trouble." Cal's face darkened. "Then you came just in time, I haven't heard back from the cart I sent to the market in Combe. Robbers have assaulted this farm but me and my farmhands have been holding them back." Cal looked up at me. "Maybe you could see what happened to the cart I sent to Combe and report to Brackenbrook of what has been happing here and at the gate."
He handed me a bow, made from the oak of the Chetwoods. I strung it and found that it would take care of unarmored foes. I placed the bow over my back and the quiver sliding neatly into place behind my shield. I was now armed and dangerous. I began walking back to the Combe gate, using the trees for cover. As the trees thinned, I crawled on all fours to get closer to the road. On a small hill behind a bush, I saw the gate leading into Combe and knew what had happened to the cart from the farm. It had turned completely over and Blackwolds had made a barricade, blocking the gate using the cart and logs from the trees that they had cut down. Some stakes were placed in front of the barricade to stop a charge.
I began to retreat back to the shadows and went straight back to Cal. As I told him what I saw, he clutched the side of a wall for support. His knees weak from the shock. "The cart overturned...the road blocked? This is a nightmare." He hastily began writing a letter. "Give this to Brackenbrook with all haste, he will believe you now." Archet felt a long way away. I would have to get a horse if this kept up.
I gave the letter to Brackenbrook and began to catch my breath. He looked up from the letter his face blank. "What have I done? I am a fool. I trusted Calder Cob and even my own son warned me about his treachery." He sighed. "Jon is a worthy hunter and he hasn't set foot in this town for three years because of the argument...What a fool I am! I told him he was not welcome in Archet until he stopped behaving like a jealous child. Now he and his hunters are our only hope. But what can I do? He does not deserve to be dragged deeper into this. No, Archet must stand without help."
Strider had seen many evils, maybe he had some advice. He was saddling a horse, preparing for a long journey. "Strider, Brackenbrook believes that Archet is in danger, but he refuses aid from his son." Strider leapt atop his horse. "Danagor, you have done remarkably well, better than I could have done. You earned Captain Brackenbrook's trust. Appeal to his son Jon against his wishes. I must leave soon and Archet will need all the help it can get, even if pride is at stake. I am confident you will be able to give this town a fighting chance. In the meantime, Amdir assures me he just needs rest."
Another horse had been prepared. "I have a feeling you'll be needing a horse to get around from now on, Danagor. I trust Archet's fate to you. You have given me a little peace of mind." He began galloping off down the road. If anyone could make it past that barricade he could. I climbed on top of my horse and walked it the gate. A signpost read Archet Hunting Lodge and pointed east. I stirred my horse to gallop, going around the tall hills. The hunting lodge was a walkable distance only about a mile or so.
A dwarf was sharpening an axe. A few men were shooting arrows into wooden targets. All was dressed in light mail and leather. I tied my horse to the post and made sure it had food and water. Inside the lodge, a small fire was burning in a corner and skins covered the floor. In the back room, a man that looked like a younger version of Brackenbrook was studying a map. "Are you Jon Brackenbrook?" He looked up. "Yes, you came from town didn't you? It was about time someone noticed the preying darkness." "Will you help? Caldor Cob has shown his true colors and you father no longer trusts him." Jon sighed and sat down. "I bear my father no ill, he is just too trusting of people. Yes, I and my hunters will come to Archet's aid. I would rather die than let good people come to harm."
He noticed something on my chest. "You are hurt." Looking down, a few claw marks had scratched my skin, barely drawing blood. "It's just a scratch." I dismissed it. "That's what they usually say before infection sinks in." Jon opened a cabinet and I saw that it was full of bandages, herbs and vials of potions. I could tell there was no fighting it so I took off my weapons and shredded shirt. Jon threw it away into a wash basket. "I don't know if you're brave or a fool. To fight without armor..." He gave me a vial of alcohol and I rubbed it onto my wounds. The pain made me hiss. After the vial was drained and my wounds were bandaged to let the wound close, Jon spoke. "I would send you to gather information about the Blackwold's plan's, but I think you need rest before the battle starts." I stood up. "I'm fine."
"Without armor?" Jon shook his head. "Are you Tulkas, the champion of the Valar?" I shook my head. "Then you will need some chainmail and padding to survive. I will wake you when your armor is ready." I was tired from all the fighting and running. I found a cot and as soon as my head lay down, I was asleep. How to describe what happened in my dream this time is not easy. Instead of blackness, I stood in a garden.
Water trickled down the rocks making a small waterfall from above my head. A small river flowed through bubbling cheerfully on the rocks. Flowers of every sort grew in reds, pinks, whites, golds, purples and other various shades. Stairs sparkled overhead lit by glimmering lights. What was built seemed to flow with nature and nature seemed to sprout them. I was barefooted, green grass tickled my feet.
The air was clear and the scent of the fresh air and flowers combined in a refreshing dance. I was dreaming in all the senses. An elf stood next to a pedestal that came up my waist. Flowers wound their way on the vines leading up to the top, carven precisely in stone. Trying to describe the elf maid would not do her justice, she was far more then what words could convey. Her dress was a glowing white, reflecting the moon. The dress came down to her ankles, inlaid with silver, sewn in the pattern of flowering vines. The circlet was slim shining silver, the vines tangling to form a crown. Budding flowers midway through opening rested on the crown of her golden silver hair that trailed behind her in ringlets. Her eyes were a bright shade of blue and yet...a sense of divine power rested within her. The Lady of the Golden Wood, Galadriel.
"Danagor." Her words were soft on the wind, floating to my ears. "Listen to my words, for I have seen much that troubles me." She beckoned me to come foreword. A sliver basin was set into the pillar, the water black as night. Galadriel waved her hand over the water's surface and it glimmered slightly before turning back to the way it was. She frowned slightly at the mirrors surface. "The darkness has been clouding the mirror's vision as of late." She took a small vial, it's contents flashed brightly over the mirror and I had to shield my eyes from the light. The water was now clear and sparkling from the light's purge.
"What will I see if I look into it?" Galadriel turned towards me from the basin. "Even the wise can not tell, for what is shown may yet come to pass or none of it." I peered into the waters. The water rippled and showed a fortress, built from a black mountain. Two levels complete with a guarded gate leading into the fortress was the limit of the vision. Made of black and gray stones, the walls were heavily fortified with towers, each level of the towers was topped by five curved spikes that bent upward towards the sky. The Banner of The Iron Crown hung from the ramparts.
"I have seen lighted windows in the evil city of Carn Dum. The land of Angmar stirs." Galadriel's voice was in my head. The vision went forward to parapet above the main gate. A man clad in red robes with black armor stood on the parapet. His armor was spiked in the shoulders and above the gauntlets. An iron crown sat on his hood, two spikes coming from the crown to almost meet in the middle of his forehead. Smaller thorns came straight up from the brim of the crown. Two thorns almost made a tip on the crown. His chestplate had the symbol of an eye above a valley. "Shadows once came forth from this land to threaten the North." The armored man made a motion to attack, a high pitched squeal coming from underneath the shadows of his hood. "I fear that they will again."
The vision changed and I saw a group of four hobbits, two men, an elf and a dwarf prepared for battle in a hall made of stone. Glowing crystals lit braziers and the vision moved out to show more of the stone pillars and walls. A small arch on their side led to a bride tapering to a two men walk in the middle. On the bridge stood an old man in gray robes and pointed hat, clutching a staff and sword. A creature, the likes I had never seen was being held back by some force of will. The beast was made of shadow and flame. Two wings sprouted from it's back and horns curled downwards from the side of it's head, teeth like razors showed as the beast opened it's mouth and roared. Flame filled his mouth. The old man's staff began to glow and with a thundering crash, the vision turned to a corrupted woods. The trees were bare, except for cobwebs like torn banners hanging from their branches. Vines went this way and that. The forest was decaying in an unnatural way, it's life going to the mists. A large hill with the shape of a fortress built on top of it was surrounded by thick gray mists.
"My mirror also shows much that I do not understand at times." Her voice filled my head and I saw an elf hidden in shadows. The vision changed to a massive hall, pillars held up the roof. They were craved with gold inlay and painted with dark shades of red, brown and black. Bright colored tapestries hung on the walls depicting the history of Rohan. Helm Hammerhand defeating Freca, Aldor chasing the Dunlendings, and Eorl the Young riding across a ford. The colors were slightly fading. The floor had strange runes written in the stones. Facing the doors was a gilded throne, horses rearing from it. The oldest man I had ever seen sat on the throne. His skin was wrinkled and pale, his beard and hair tangled. A pale faced man stood to his right, he looked sickly or unwell. I had seen creatures like this on my hunts, snakes specifically. A young blonde woman in a white dress stood before the throne, she seemed to be arguing with the sickly man and the man on the throne. "All of Middle Earth is threatened by the return of Sauron. We will need strength, courage and wisdom if we are to oppose him."
I was back in the garden. "You are near to waking, Danagor." "Why are you showing this to me?' I asked. "For one reason, you have appeared in my mirror not once or twice but often." Galadriel's voice became harder to hear. "No matter if you desire it or not, your fate is tied to Middle Earth. The Free Peoples of Middle Earth are depending on you."
I awoke to Jon shaking me awake. "Get up. The scout I sent has returned and your chainmail and padding has arrived from Archet." I got up from the cot, The dream was the strangest I had yet. Chainmail leggings and shirt, lay on top of padding. A new undershirt and trousers had been folded neatly. The chainmail went over the padding, the padding over the undershirt. I had learned the hard way never to let wet leather be on your skin. It sticks and you have to peel it off your skin if it gets wet. Study boots protected my feet and a helmet went on last. Strapping on my weapons and shield, it was heavier than it was but not unbearable. To run in this would take the breath out of me real quick.
Jon was studying the plans. "Danagor, it seems that the armor fits well on you." He motioned towards the plans. "It seems the Blackwolds mean to attack through the main gate, while a smaller force uses the Old East Path. We all avoid that area as it seems spiders have taken that area. Speak to Atli Spiderbane, a dwarf from the east of the Misty Mountains. See what you can learn from him about the path."
Atli was the only dwarf here and he was now wrapping a bandage around his leg. I hadn't noticed that he was wounded. "Are you Atli?" He looked up from his bandage and I was surprised at how short he was. He barely came up to my waist. His axe spoke volumes though as it was re-sharpened and double bladed. "At your service, friend." His voice was as deep as a cave. "Danagor." We shook hands. "What do you know of the Old East Path?" Atli motioned towards his leg. "Other than spiders, the way has been blocked. While coming back, I got this wound from a spider bite."
The bandage wrapped around his leg and a putrid smell came from it. "I cleared most of them out so we can use the short way into Archet." He went back to tending his leg. I went back to Jon with the news that the path was blocked at the east entrance to town. "That is good news, the spiders will have retreated for now. We can use the path tonight and the spiders will hinder the brigand attack from the east for awhile." Looking outside the sun was beginning to set.
"I will gather the men and we will march to Archet's aid." We went outside. The hunters were waiting outside, a small band but better than nothing. "Men of Archet, your home is under attack, tonight we fight off the Blackwolds and return to our homes in triumph after so long away!" Nice and short speech. I would have to take notes on how to inspire people like that.
Smoke came from the direction of town. "Archet is ablaze! Hurry!" We began to walk faster than a march. As went past a stone gateway built into a small valley, webs came into view. The smell of smoke drifted towards us. As we approached the gates, I saw that they had been forced apart slightly by some force. Arrows struck a few hunters and they went down. The Blackwolds had arrived before we did. I kept running through the arrows, weaving erratically.
The prison was overrun. Six or seven bandits surrounded Ned Pruner. "This is for jailing us, Pruner!" I recognized the speaker. He was the man that Ned had thrown in jail after his bragging of Archet's destruction. The brigand kicked him down onto the ground. The other's hooted with glee. "Hold on Ned!" A woman with black hair and a guards outfit, struggled with the gate keys. Apparently, the prisoners had revolted when the Blackwolds attacked. We had assumed the Brigands would use the old path, but why use it if you had allies on the other side of a wall? The brigand began kicking and punching Ned while he lay on the ground, his sword next to him.
His hands were broken by the way they dangled. A few of the Brigands were using clubs, along with daggers and swords. Atli began whacking away at the wood palisade with his axe. The flames didn't seem to bother him as much. Probably because Dwarves were used to the heat of a forge. "Mercy!" Ned yelled loudly. The cackling flames and fireglow made the brigands look like Morgoth. The one that had been locked in the stocks grew bored of beating the jailor. "Atli swing harder!" I yelled. "I'm swinging as fast as I can!" Atli was sweating under the strain. The hunters that had axes began chopping away at the barricade. With the sound of splintering wood, the brigand that was beating Ned picked up the jailors sword. He stabbed it into the jailor's gut, causing him a slow and painful death.
I leapt into the fray, becoming completely surrounded by brigands. The woman screamed "NO!" a shout I barely heard. I preferred being up close and in the midst of my enemies when fighting. That way, I didn't have to worry who got in the way of my blade. There was a certain freedom in that moment being surrounded with no hope of escape. I kept my blade moving, if a brigand parried he went down on the riposte. Brigands began falling around me, clutching wounds that wouldn't close. I learned my sword was dwarf make by the way it sliced through leather like the air. The sharpness of my blade made the wind whistle, leather ripping apart. The battle song of the northern rangers was in me.
It's startling how fast a fight can begin and end. One moment your fighting for your life, the next is peace. The hunters came in behind me, a few threw up. Jon's face was pale. The gate finally opened and the black haired guard woman raced in, clutching Ned. "His wife." I guessed. Ned gasped, his blood bubbling on his chest. "Amdir... Amdir's close by. He escaped the slaughter at the Badger. You have to help him... defend the Badger. Those Blackwolds want the hobbits...and the Captain. I...I saw something in the flames...go after them, you must save them..." Ned slumped down slightly, his last words to his wife were a whisper for her. "Ned!" His wife began crying. The hunters and me stood there shocked at death, having never seen it coupled with loss. I refused to think about the brigands I had killed.
"To think is to halt, to halt is to die." That was well known battle saying of the Dúnedain. The six or seven bandits now lay around us. Jon turned towards me. "I have never seen a man fight like that, Danagor." The fires continued to spread, the smoke drifting away from the rooftops, coloring the sky black and gray.
We went deeper into the town. Flames had consumed most of the buildings, burning roadblocks littered the street. The street had been blocked off by a pile of burning carts. A few brigands fought against us but they were easily cut down. Parry, slash, riposte. Three swift contacts with my sword and a foe went down, never to rise up again. The Mad Badger was untouched for now. A volley of arrows from the hunters, brought the brigands down in the market.
"Son, what are you doing here!?" I could hear the captain's shout from the Mad Badger, directly past the barricade. "Talk later!" Jon yelled back. We began fighting a way around the obstacle, going to the street to the left of the market and turning right. Smoke tingled my nostrils, the smell making my eyes water. Sweat began to run down our skin. Atli was in the front, swinging his axe left and right. It was a grim fight. We left behind a trail of the dead and dying. It as hard to tell if we where the defenders or the attackers.
The crafter's area went up like kindling. The sudden whoosh of flame devouring the dry wood. The flames reached into the sky and a few of the Hunter's standing next to it caught on fire. It was my first taste of war. A bitter taste, that I would remember for the rest of my life, witch may not be that long. The hunter's that had caught on fire began rolling, but I could smell roasting flesh. With all the sights and smells around us, it was as if the town had fallen into Utumno.
"Forward, Danagor! The worst is yet to come I fear!" Jon snapped me back into the battle. As we rounded the last bend, we saw Brackkenbrook surrounded by flames, his face grim. "Father, I knew you would be alive!" Jon raced to his father's side. Their was no relief from the Captain yet. "Yes, I am alive son." He waved his hand at the burning buildings around him. "Does Archet fall now? I have been a fool." I heard the sounds of battle cries down the road. "Now is not the time for blame." I pointed down the main road, at least twelve brigands were rushing at us swords and clubs in the air. Jon and his father went to my side, small shields and swords at the ready. "Defend the hobbits and Amdir!" The hobbits were cowering in one corner, fear frozen.
Four hunters rounded the bend and loosed arrows into the mob of raiders. A few went down, but there was at least eight were left to our three. The four hunter's joined us as the crash of battle met our ears. Screams of battle surrounded us, as we fought. Slashing, hacking, parrying, bashing with our shields or hitting with fists. It was more a brawl than a battle. The brigands had obviously hoped to overwhelm us with their numbers, a few were drunk from the look of it. The road became wet from blood. "Enough games!" a harsh voice yelled. We all became frozen, as some force halted our movements. There where no more brigands in sight, so it appeared as if the speaker had just appeared. The enemies that were here were dead at our feet.
Two Nazgul walked from the shadows of the smoke. Instead of black, they wore red robes. These were the Cargul, lesser wraiths, victims of morgul blades. "The ranger comes with us." They were shadows, so both or one could have spoken. Caldor Cob walked between the Cargul. The Captain became red faced from rage. "Caldor Cob! You cannot see what you have become!" Caldor smirked. "I have become stronger than you can even dream of, Captian. You have always been blind, but now you will understand." I tried to move, but then again, maybe it wouldn't be the best idea to be noticed. "You betrayed your home and your peoples. You should be ashamed." The captain strained against his invisible bonds.
"Enough, Amdir is now a servent of the Eye." Amdir got up from his sick bed and I noticed that his eyes had gone red. They were like red orbs in his face. "Yes, masters." His tone was completely flat and unfeeling. "Caldor Cob finish what you came to do." The Cargul and Amdir vanished into the night. Caldor's eyes glimmered as the bonds binding us began to slacken. "Now I have the power in Archet, Brackenbrook." Caldor lifted his hatchet and brought it down on the captain's chest leaving a deep cut. His face went pale and the guard of Archet fell. "Father! NO!" Jon and I sprung for Caldor Cob at the same time. He blocked Jon's first blow, but I cut his hand off at the wrist. Caldor Cob screamed and cradled his maimed hand. I let Jon deliver the final blow, his sword going directly into and through Cob's chest.
The man collapsed on the ground. "See where your power has got you, Caldor. I ask was it worth it?" I said to his body. It was customary to say a few words to the men that joined the dead. Jon looked up, his eyes hollow. A circle of people had surrounded us while Archet burned. A few were taking buckets of water to the burning buildings. Jon began to speak, his voice strained. "This is a sad day, Archet burns, my father is dead, and Amdir has been taken by evil men. All we can do now is put out this fire and rebuild." The circle of people broke up, helping to put out the fire. As the smoke cleared slightly and the flames had died, the stars had come out. The orange glow of the town lit the streets. Jon was now leader of Archet, he walked around with dead eyes, still doing his job, but without purpose.
The townspeople began to rebuild slowly. Ashes were swept, the dead laid to rest in coffins. I kept my distance, feeling like a stranger in the midst of their grief. I went back to my room in The Mad Badger. Undressing, I found I had a few cuts but nothing serious. A few bandages from a healer that came around took care of my cuts. I laid down, feeling restless but fell asleep anyway. I had changed in so short a time that nightmares from the Blackwold raid visited me. Even then, I realized that the journey home wouldn't be for a long time.
"Heroes rise from a baptism of fire."
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