Cena turned from a whispered conference with the group and began to speak, but the Southron woman cut him off. "I have nothing to hide. I will tell you everything, without being sufficiently frightened by your threats. I know very well how Gondor treats its prisoners.
"My name is Susanna and I was once a captain of the Haradrim host. When I was young, I was taken prisoner by Gondor. I knew of the honorable reputation of the armies of the White Tree, so I was not afraid. But my expectations fell far short and I was abused and shamed in the city of Kings. The only person who was kind to me was Lord Faramir, your father." She looked up at Elboron, emotions fighting among themselves in her eyes. "He helped me escape. I swore an oath by the sands of Harad that I would return and fight until my last breath to tear Minas Tirith stone from stone, killing every seed of Gondor except that which has helped me. Lord Faramir's house I would not touch.
"Upon my return to Harad I discovered I was pregnant. I was afraid of what my people would think, but I was hailed as a hero for enduring through my imprisonment and my pregnancy was just icing on the cake. My son was, of course, born abnormally light-skinned, but this did not hinder him. He went on to become a mumak rider and I became a captain of the Haradrim.
"When the Lord of the Black Land called my people to war, Mihail, my son, went with a will. He believed in the cause and was pleased to finally get to strike against those who abused his mother. He was sent to Mordor with a patrol and I was sent to call the Easterlings from across the Sea of Rhun.
"When I arrived at the Morannon, my heart leaped at being reunited with Mihail, light of my life. But search as I might, none of his patrol had arrived. I was frantic with worry when a single badly wounded mumak was allowed through the gate. The last survivor of my son's company told me what had occurred. They had been ambushed in Ithilien and he alone had escaped alive. Stunned, I asked who had done the deed. He told me that they were Rangers and the man who drew bow against my child was called Faramir. My heart went cold and I vowed that even if Gondor lasted until the world's ending I would eradicate the house of Faramir. He may have saved my life, but I would have died a thousand deaths in Barad-dur before I would let anyone touch my son."
She looked around. "You stare at me in shock and perhaps horror. But would not all of you kill for your children? Especially your only son? Or be killed for your children.
"I marched with my people on the Pelennor and we would have won the day against my son's murderers if not for your father." She nodded at Eldarion. "He brought the armies of the dead. I was just beginning to finish a Rohirric man when I heard the horns. I was distracted, and that moment gave the man's son time to slip a knife in my side. The last words I heard were "Tell the devil Aescwine's son sent you.' But I didn't...die."
An older man named Ohtar had been watching and at the name Aescwine his face paled. He leaped upon Susanna and snatching out Elfwine's sword he slew the Harad captain with a cry of, "Murderer!"
The company stood stunned for a minute, then Elfwine retrieved his sword. "Ohtar, what is the meaning of this?"
Covered with Haradrim blood and looking not a little ashamed, the Rider stood down. "I'm sorry, my lord. Aescwine of Rohan was my grandfather. This witch killed him right before my father's eyes and I grew up to the sound of my father's screaming in the night from the nightmares it caused. It haunted him for the rest of his life and I promised him that I would avenge his pain. When I saw that the woman I sought was here, now, I couldn't restrain myself. Forgive me, my king."
Elboron put a hand on his shoulder. "The act was born from noble intentions."
Elfwine cleaned and sheathed his sword. "Yes, but now she's dead. We are now permanently without answers to many questions."
Ohtar looked down. "I acted rashly, my lord."
"But all is not lost. There are the other men we captured. They may know a lot," put in Eldarion.
Elfwine rolled his eyes. "Ohtar, I'll deal with you later. But right now, Eldarion has a good idea. Let's question some of the others."
They singled out one of the older men and set to get some answers out of him. But by the time two hours had passed, they hadn't got a single word out of him other than 'I've got nothin' t'say.' And with a 'no torture' policy, it wasn't getting any better. Tempers flared higher and higher and as dusk fell, Cena held out his hand. "With your permission, Lord Elfwine, I can get answers out of him."
Elfwine slapped his knife into the captain's hand. "Permission granted. I'd do anything to break him about now."
Cena smiled grimly and turned back to the prisoner, who couldn't have looked more relaxed. The man of Rohan placed the knife at the man's throat. "Talk, or I start cutting."
The man leered at him. "You wouldn't. All of you Dunedain hide behind your rules of conduct like children behind their mother's aprons. You'd never harm me for information."
Cena drew back the knife with a snarl. "Oh wouldn't I?"
As he brought it down, a hand clamped about his wrist, effectively stopping the blow. A soft voice said into his ear, "Do not do anything so foolish to this one as your comrade did to the woman, Cena, son of Eoforhild." Startled, Cena dropped the blade, backing away. "How do you know me?"
An elven woman stood there, backlit by the torches. She was obviously not your typical woman. She wore the clothing of a northern Ranger, her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled into warrior braids and she bore a scar on her face that spoke volumes. Her sea green eyes sized up their prisoner coldly. ignoring Cena. "Let me try."
They spread out, allowing her access to the man. She crouched down in front of him. "Do you know who I am?"
He spat at her. "A dirty elf, the same kind that-" He stopped himself and pressed his lips together. The woman nodded.
"I see. Well, as you stated before, the men of the west are far too honorable to stoop to torturing you for information." She leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "I am a Ranger, born of the wilds. I have no such qualms." The prisoner looked patently unimpressed, but she continued nonchalantly. "You will talk to me. And for every answer I find unsatisfactory, I will cut a half-moon across your cheekbone. Then I will peel the skin away. Or I could puncture your eyeballs. They make interesting pops when opened, rather like squeezing a grape until it bursts. Then, I'll slit your nostrils. None of these little things will really damage you, of course, and they will leave the rest of your body unharmed in case you need...further persuasion."
All present watched the exchange intently, not believing that the elf could be that brutal. The prisoner gulped and muttered, "I've nothin' t' say t' the likes of you!"
The Ranger drew a knife and laid it on his cheek, twisting it slightly. A pinprick of blood blossomed red and streamed down his face. "I'm sorry to hear that." She began to slide the knife in a curve across his bone. The man flinched, but didn't move as she slowly opened his face. The woman frowned.
"Oh, I see. You're a tough one. Very well, the eyes have it." She laid her knife beside his left eye and began to bear down.
"Alright, alright, alright. Stop, please, I'll talk!" Smiling, his interrogator took away her knife and got up. The man watched her warily. "I'll tell you what you want to know, just don't let that [ithing[/i near me again."
Elfwine sat down across from him. "So talk."
Their prisoner gulped and darted a quick glance at the woman, who stood beside him holding her blade loosely in her fingers. "My name is-"
"Your name is of no consequence," Eldarion cut in. "Tell us of the one called Susanna."
"Right." The man licked his lips and tried again. "You know part of her story. After she was wounded on the Pelennor, she was taken for dead. But she didn't die; she made it off of the Pelennor and survived, though it was a long road to recovery. Then she took to wandering Middle-earth. She wandered for years before she found us.
"Many years ago, my comrades and I were Dunlanders. We traveled to the Golden Wood hoping to gain the favor of Lady Galadriel and be permitted to live within the bounds of her realm.
"But in trying to please her, we incurred her wrath. So the Lady barred us from our goal forever. We were angered, and sought to avenge our wounded pride. We sought out the Galadrim and murdered all we could find, as well as all elves and elf-friends. But this also had it's consequences: Lord Celeborn cursed us and bound us in the glade we called a camp so that we may never leave. Most people avoided our place and were safe.
"But that with that curse came certain side-affects. When the span of our natural life ended, we remained in the wood as wraiths, trapped forever. However, there was a way to be released. If anyone was so foolish as to enter our glade, they would be enchanted by our music and when they were ensnared, we would feed on their living souls. This gave us strength and little by little we gained substance and only needed one more feed to gain freedom from our prison. But none was forthcoming. The elves were leaving these shores and the men been warned of us. It looked hopeless.
"But then Susanna came along. She made a deal with us. She'd let us take her soul if we would make her immortal and help her avenge her son. The few elves we'd taken over the years had given us some measure of immortality, you see. She was our last hope, so we agreed. We lay in wait for many long years, making plans and awaiting the opportune moment. When Elessar left Gondor in Eldarion's hands, Susanna saw an opportunity and we acted on it.
"Disguised as first one, then the other of your nations we attacked outlying villages under cover of darkness. Our plan worked and Gondor and Rohan were at each other's throats in no time."
Elfwine looked at Eldarion, puzzled. "But I swear I saw you there."
Their prisoner smiled wryly, wincing at the pain in his face. "A bit a disguise work, torchlight, lots of action. Can you really be sure of what you saw?"
Elfwine looked down at his hands. "No..."
The man nodded. "Susanna expected the two of you to go to war. When you arranged this meeting, it was a complete surprise." Anita flashed a smile at Belegorn, who came up with the meeting in the first place. "She made the best of it, though, and we rode here with Gondor. It wasn't that hard to mingle and not be noticed. Just a couple more soldiers. Susanna instructed us to incite a riot when the talking started. She planned on this being the last straw and Gondor and Rohan would destroy each other. But then she got caught by that girl and everything failed. That's the whole story, I swear it." He looked at the grim faces of the men around him as if silently pleading to be believed.
Dorothy nodded. "I for one think he's telling the truth."
Eldarion agreed. "Place him and the others under guard." Then he turned to the woman and asked, "But who are you? Where do you come from? Why did you help us?"
She smiled bitterly. "Do you not know me, son of Elessar? But then, you would not."
Eldarion tilted his head, studying her. "The one you remind me of has been dead for years. She was called Rosegold."
She laughed. "Not dead, though I have not been called Rosegold for many decades. I am mostly known as the Morgil now. I have been with the elves of the Mark for these last years. I've come back now because unlike them, I do not feel the call to sail for the Undying Lands."
"Elves of the Mark?" Loni asked.
Elfwine answered, keeping his eyes on Rosegold. "It's an ancient legend in Rohan. It is said that a small band of elves live in the Mark, always helping and fighting for the Rohirrim since the beginning of the nation. But it is only a child's myth."
Rosegold shrugged. "If you want to believe that way, I will not argue." She abruptly changed the subject. "What will you do with the prisoners?"
"This raises a question," Elentathar said. "Whose prisoners are they? Do they go to Gondor or Rohan from here?"
Eldarion looked questioningly at Elfwine. The Rohirrim laughed and put up his hands. "Gondor can have them." Eldarion looked crestfallen; what did Elfwine expect him to do with them?
Legolas put a hand on his arm. "My Prince, if I may." When he had Dari's attention, he continued. "Take them to Minas Tirith and place them under guard until your father returns. He will know exactly what to do with them."
Eldarion bit his lip, obviously struggling with his pride. Then he sighed. "Alright. I'll wait for Ada's judgment. He always knows best."
Elfwine gave a low sigh of finality and held out his hand. "Farewell, Eldarion, heir of Gondor and friend of Rohan."
Eldarion took his hand and met his eyes evenly. "Farewell, Elfwine, King of Rohan and friend of Gondor."