Chapter 6 – Water
"Elladan, this is the last of our water. He needs more than this!" Elrohir whispered fiercely as he rode, trying to keep himself in line with his twin.
"What other choice do we have? Give this to him, and hope to Eru that we reach the river quickly," Elladan replied in sotto voce.
The journey had taken its toil on all of them, especially Estel, and especially on this last leg. They had gone without rest for a full day and night since meeting Gilion and his escorts, and even the elves were starting to tire. Estel's body, however, weakened greatly. He was running a temperature and was perpetually drained and lethargic.
The twins had been trying to infuse the human with water to bring down the fever, but they knew that what he truly needed was rest, not merely fluids. Yet, they could not afford to even slow down for that. None of them wanted a delay, and this was especially so with Strider. But they had to stop.
Elladan called for a halt while Elrohir dismounted and went towards Estel, offering him the water.
"Is this all we have left?" Estel asked weakly.
Elrohir nodded and looked away. "But once we reach the river, we can refill our canteens," he added.
Strider pushed the water away.
"I know some place here where there is water. I will go there, but no one is to follow," Strider's resolution showed through his mumbled speech.
Elrohir nodded in understanding. The adan had once spoken of a 'secret place' supposedly known only to a handful of Mirkwood's nobility and himself.
"Are you certain you know the way?" Elrohir asked.
"I am not totally sure, but I believe I can find it."
"So be it. Be careful, gwador nîn," Elladan had joined them by then.
"Going into an unknown place alone, just for a drop of water?" Elrohir asked in disbelief as Strider left, "and feverish as well?"
Elladan was silent for a while. Then he spoke, "I do not think it is merely because of water."
A pause.
"Something tells him to go, and he will, because of his destiny, because of his love."
Estel barely knew where he was. At this stage, he was only following his numb mind's instructions.
Turn left.
Turn right.
Straight ahead.
Turn…
Then he saw it.
The tree.
He dismounted, leaving Roheryn some distance back. He knew that a call would bring the horse over in a flash, and should there be hostile parties around, Roheryn, at least, might have a chance to flee.
Strider noted the unnatural silence of the wood. There was no wind, no rustling leaves, no swaying branches. The animals were silent and hidden. A deer flitted quickly from his sight as soon as he had spotted it. The tension in the air was cramming and choking around the inhabitants of the wood. He longed for a sound, anything to break the stifling silence.
He heard nothing.
He crept forward, grimacing as the crunch of a dried leaf resonated through the forest.
That was not the sound he had hoped for. Perhaps silence would have been better.
He hid quickly behind a clump of bushes. He heard a soft, shifting sound, so soft that he quickly dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. He waited there, tensing as the minutes wore on.
The evening sun filtered through the canopy, not roasting him, yet he was begin to sweat profusely. Perhaps that was a good sign since it meant his fever was retreating. Finally he decided to move. He made his way forward, towards the tree again, reached a hand forwards and –
"Daro/Halt/"
Strider turned to find himself staring down the arrow of a strung bow. A quick look from the corner of his eye revealed a readied blade. Then he saw the owners of the weapons.
"Calenlas! Himorn! It is I, Strider!" He was so glad to see them.
But they did not share his sentiments.
"Strider? Why are you still here? You –" Himorn began to ask.
Strider silenced him, "Listen, my friend, I have known about this and it is I, whether you believe it or nil. My brothers and the warriors from Rivendell are near this place. They can testify for me. The person you saw was not I but one in disguise."
The elves were uncertain if they should believe him.
"There's only one way to find out," Calenlas decided, praying that they were not falling for any trap, "take us to your brothers."
Strider summoned Roheryn and whispered something into his ear, hoping that the horse would at least know the way. The steed began to walk in a particular direction, and the trio followed him.
"May I presume you do not know the way back?" Himorn asked for both of them.
Strider had been much revived after he ate the offered lembas and drank the wine.
"I would have to say so," he answered, a light blush creeping to the surface of his skin.
The elves laughed aloud. Estel scowled in a reasonably good imitation of Legolas, which only caused the elves to laugh harder.
"This is interesting," Calenlas finally regained his composure, "you're trying to imitate Legolas, who tried to imitate his father!"
And Estel, though still rather giddy, but being the brother of Elladan and Elrohir, could only think of one thing to do: he made a playful swipe at Calenlas.
Himorn did not seem to want to be left out, "Roheryn's obedience, your adoption of Legolas' and the twins' habits do prove your identity. And did I mention that dirt on you and having the tendency to lose your direction?"
Which brought Estel on his heels, and promptly sent everyone into a laughing fit, the human included, though more unwillingly.
"So, Strider, what brings you here?" Himorn asked.
Estel related his side of the story in brief: Legolas' lateness, Elrond's concerns and Gilion's swapped message.
"It would seem that I was right; Legolas did not write the letters," Himorn concluded.
Calenlas only sighed and they walked in silence until they found the Imladris company. Estel was immensely glad that Roheryn knew the way. After the polite greetings, they started on the topic close to all of their hearts.
"What has happened in Mirkwood?" Elladan asked.
The two Silvan elves looked troubled as they told what they knew. However, the episode that concerned the brothers most was the poisoning.
"Your water comes from the Forest River?" Elrohir asked.
A nod from the elves.
"We'll take you there if you wish," Calenlas offered.
It was a largely silent journey. None of them knew exactly what to say, and it was Strider who finally voiced his concerns, "Has Mirkwood been warned about the water?"
"No," Himorn sighed, "Calenlas and I only suspect it. We do not have any evidence to convince the people."
Strider nodded grimly, "They must be warned."
"Yes, but you have to find a way to make them believe you."
Strider fell silent, deep in thought again.
Elladan asked, "How are the poisoned treated?"
"We are using a sleeping potion to ease their pain," Himorn answered, being better versed in medicine.
"That will not be enough," Elrohir cut in, "have you any athelas?"
"We've tried feeding it to them, but it seems only to cause them more pain."
They could see the river from here, still sparkling in the evening sun. It looked the same as ever. There was its placid appearance, its lively glitters, the light dancing on the water as though illuminating a sea of mithril, the rhythmic and coaxing flow of the river. Nothing seemed amiss.
Strider bent low for a better look at the riverbank. There were no signs of herbs or powder being added to the river. Then, his attuned eyes caught something else: boot-prints in the soft grass.
There were light ones, like an elf's and others heavy as human's. They were recently made, at most two days ago. Strider was sure that the prints had not been just left by themselves.
He tried to reconstruct the events mentally. An elf had led about two other elves and twelve men here. The leader then walked towards the river, while the others scattered around the area, perhaps to check for enemy action. The leader had paused at the edge for a long while, after which an elf joined him. The prints in the mud gave him a fair idea of the duration they were there. The leader, probably for up to a quarter hour, while the elf was there for a much shorter time.
It was only then that Strider noticed the grass lining the river was dead.
Elladan and Elrohir looked over their brother's findings, proud with his meticulous work and sound deductions. Strider was truly being the Ranger he was, and learning well. Upon impulse, Strider dipped a silver needle he always carried with him into the water. It came out black.
"Poisoned," Strider stated, "this is proof enough."
"What kind of poison is that?" Calenlas asked.
"It is unlike anything that we have seen," Himorn added his input, "I think it may be some dark spell."
Strider nodded his agreement, "Only the poisons from that land reacts thus with athelas."
"Light and darkness can never be together," Elrohir said, "athelas may be the only way to treat the people."
"My mother and sister have been poisoned," Himorn said, "they may be willing to try."
"There is nothing else we can do here," Elladan said, "let's go."
Elladan, Elrohir and Estel prepared the kingsfoil the way their father had taught them. Then, the twins each took a patient while Estel and the other elves shuttled between them, helping to fetch supplies and other necessities. They had decided to leave some athelas boiling to keep the room infused with the soothing smell, deciding that it might do some good against the poison.
Estel stood beside Elladan as he treated Himorn's mother. There was little that could be done at this stage. Even as the herb entered her body, she seemed to struggle with pain. All present there could see that she was trying not to cry out, but at last a gagging sound emanated from her throat.
Elladan impulsively reached for her hand, giving her some comfort and strength. Her cries reduced considerably and her breathing grew regular. Elladan looked at the others in surprise. The same happened a while later with Elrohir and Himorn's sister.
The elves and Estel then moved out of the room, leaving the two to rest. Melanel, the head servant, had found space to house all twenty-three of them and they were in the process of writing the warnings to the people. Calenlas stopped in the middle of a word.
"How do we know who's on our side and who's not?" he asked, "we don't know if they are already in Mirkwood, do we?"
It was as though all of them suddenly realised the implications of the question. There was no telling if they would adjust their plans or come up with a more vicious attack should they be discovered.
"No, we do not know," Himorn agreed, "but I say, we warn as many as we can. This is a gamble we will have to take."
No one could argue against that.
They wrote the warning letters till deep into the night, before distributing them throughout the kingdom, slipping it under doors, through windows, hoping that families who received the warnings would in turn warn those who did not. All twenty-five of them were tired when they finally stumbled to their lodgings for rest.
"I will see the King at first light, and ask what must be done," Himorn said before he turned in.
tbc...