Iron Forged Brotherhood
Chapter 9 - Foul Stench
Gondor, two days past...
The personal escort of each king followed them for two days on the road to the pass of Cairandros, where the remnants of Aeryn's carriage were last seen. They arrived by dawn, it was somewhat dark still with the sun slowly rising in the horizon. The guards split in groups; some were sent along the Anduin River, where the body of Carrick was found floating. Each reckoned the perimeter, not leaving a mile unexplored. They searched without rest, all of them worried about the fate of King Aragorn's youngest daughter.
From one guard to another, they yelled their reports, "Nothing!" bellowed one of them.
"The carriage remnants are empty, like someone looted them, Sire!" bellowed another.
A third guard was following a trace of hoof prints on the dirt road, probably from the horses that pulled the carriage that was now in ruins. He was hopeful that they would lead him somewhere, while another found the hollow shape of what could have been a spiked ball buried on the ground and was no longer there, but left it's print.
Eoden thoroughly searched the immediate area. He was determined to find some trace, some hope that would lead him to his beloved Aeryn. He feared that she might have even washed down the stream, and in that case, she may never be recovered. None of the guards recovered substantial clues, neither his father who searched elsewhere, nor King Aragorn, and the findings before him were as empty as the guards reports. But he refused to go back so empty handed, he wouldn't accept that she was gone without a clue, and his gut wrenched as the possibility that this could be all. That was until a scent was caught up in the gentle wind.
"There is something near" muttered Eoden, taking a few steps back. His eyes peered the treeline that laid a short distance ahead, a quick searing glance in its direction and Eoden made his way back to King Aragorn, "We are being watched..." he spoke in a hushed tone to the King, "There are Orcs beyond that treeline. I caught their scent in the wind."
King Aragorn nodded, acknowledging Prince Eoden's findings and silently unsheathing his sword Andúril, "We must be swift to get them off guard." He advised Captain Frederick to tell his men to keep bellowing reports as a means to distract the orcs and then he addressed Eoden in whispers, "We keep one alive for interrogation and kill what others might be there"
Eoden nodded in agreement with the King, it was then that his father, King Eomer, came into their presence and was filled in. "How many are they in numbers?" Eomer asked to anyone who would answer.
"By their foul stench it is impossible to know, even only one smells as bad as an entire hoard." remarked Eoden, keeping his tone lowered as they neared the treeline where he picked up their scent.
"It is rare if their numbers were larger than five, in these parts. Not in this age has anything larger than a few scouts dared to come this far." said King Eomer.
"A small group it must be, indeed. They would not risk getting an army by these borders without being widely noticed. We would be surrounded otherwise" Whispered Aragorn.
With fast and silent paces, King Aragorn made it to the tree, his back against the bark while tuning his sense of hearing to learn their positions. The rapids were loud, which gave them an advantage, while the guards kept yelling reports to one another as told. Aragorn nodded to Eoden and his father, waiting for them to approach just as silently as he did. The Dúnedain was surprisingly calm for a man whose youngest daughter was lost. He had full control of his emotions. The treeline was breached with a parting by sword, first they looked between the overgrown shrubs to spy what they may see of the detected party. King Eomer held his hand out, as if to hold his son back.
"They are near" whispered Eoden, and the sounds of their cackling could be heard in quiet bursts just a short distance ahead.
"There, twenty feet" King Eomer pointed his spear in the direction where the stench was most pungent. Though it wasn't only the stench, their foul chatter gave away their position too. And if one paid close enough attention, as those who hunt do, one would see the shadowed figure of a vile creature standing, hissing at another.
"He is mine" Eoden announced, as if no one would take it from him, and the determination in his tone was followed with a swift throw of his blade, heavily spinning tip over hilt, slicing through the air. And before anyone could stop him, his blade Holdwine made its mark, splicing the head of fell Orc against the tree to where he stood before, and was now lifelessly pinned announcing their arrival, and the discovery of the Orc's hiding place.
Aragorn held the hilt of his sword tightly with two hands against his chest, and signaled with his head after taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. "It is now or never, attack!" With no hesitation, he broke into the foul meeting with his blade, determined to slice anything that crossed his path. It was indeed a small group of scouts, no larger than five. However, they gave a good fight.
It was time for the guards to stop pretending and charge as well to reduce their chances of escaping, by having them surrounded. The clashing of swords could be heard for a while and then Aragorn beheaded one of the orcs, spilling its guts all over the ground.
Silence descended upon the group as they hunted for their prey. It was with fierce determination that the men moved through the trees as swift and silent as the hunters that made their home in the forest. Frederick only hoped that he would be able to do that when the one taken meant much to him. Hearing Eoden's words, Frederick focused on where he was looking before he heard King Aragorn yell out to attack. Moving swiftly, he pulled his sword free and moved into the frenzy of the surprised orcs and the determined men. As one orc went to swing at him, Frederick sliced across the orcs middle to bring him down to his knees as blood spilled.
Seeing as how his colleagues were being sliced like beef, Krahl and his remaining companion decided to run for their lives. But everywhere they ran to, there were guards from Rohan and Gondor. The orcs were surrounded with no possible way to escape. Just as Krahl thought of charging his way out, he was sprayed with black blood of his companion, who was beheaded at only a foot of distance from him by the blade of King Eomer. He ran in opposite direction towards Eoden, who forced his blade from the tree where it was plunged, and once free, he swung it with a might to the orc behind him as if knowing what would come if he did not, although the Orc was merely fleeing for his life.
"Meet your death if dare to!" yelled Eoden, eyes befell the narrow space between the Orc and Holdwine's tip.
"Spare it!" King Eomer hastily demanded. His eyes fell to his son, calculating how many were dead among them.
"What for?" Eoden questioned, but the steady hold of his blade gave away his loyalty.
"Answers" Is all King Eomer replied, as he sheathed his blade and the sound of metals clashing died around them.
Krahl would have suffered beheading in a matter of seconds, if it wasn't for the order of king Eomer, who yelled to the guards to keep him alive for interrogation. In the blink of an eye, all swords were pointing at Krahl's neck, causing him to drop his sword and stay still while two guards pushed him down to his knees and tied his hands behind him. He snarled at his captors, still he dared to glare daggers to all who approached him like it could do him any favor at all. His yellow eyes were full of hatred. There wasn't much he could do other than wait and see what he was spared for. A sinister laughter began to grow from the back of his throat until it was audible in a hoarse tone. It was like he held a secret that would not be pleasant to them at all, "Fools! Human fools! The era of peace? That's about to be seen…" Krahl cackled loudly, but he was immediately silenced by a solid kick to the stomach that took his breath. The orc coughed noisily.
Eoden's blade was not far from granting its fate; there was a rage in his eyes, one that bade answers, yet also wanted blood for robbing him "Do you remember your history Orc?"
King Eomer stepped between his son and the Orc, his pace was of quiet nature, cool and calm. "What plans have you? Tell us and your death shall be quick." He offered mercy in exchange of knowledge, as he'd seen done before. "It is for us to know. And if not, then you are fools, left alone and outnumbered for slaughter."
Eoden's gaze still sought blood for payment, while hearing his father's words of reason with the foe before them.
"Outnumbered, not for long…" responded Krahl between breathless cackles, "The one, the great one, will soon out shadow your pathetic troops and the freedom you have taken for granted"
To those words, Aragorn smirked, kneeling right in front of the orc to tilt his head up and force some eye contact. "The one was defeated. Sauron was defeated at the black gates of Mordor years ago. You are just babbling"
Krahl stared back into Aragorn's eyes coldly before adding more, "And who do you think the fallen Sauron answered to? The great one never rests, and he has been in front of your nose all those years. He watches…"
Aragorn widened his eyes, rising from the ground and pacing back in disbelief.
"And what does he want of us?" King Eomer impatiently demanded. All eyes were on the Orc, who bought his time with riddles. "You answer us now, or your death shall be slow, surely answers aren't only found in you...You who fled to the east."
"Just as you have rebuilt, so have we, and flourished! Our numbers are not what you think, and they are higher than he, for we do not hide in unseen places as you do, Orc. Now, where is Aeryn?" Eoden desperately asked, "You will die anyway, but only agony is up to do you chose?"
"Death is just a matter of where or when, King of the fools! It comes to us all" Krahl grinned, bearing his sharp rotten teeth,"The great one has promised necromancer powers to my Master as exchange for virgin blood of the noble daughters of men. They shall be sacrificed by summer's solstice unless their fathers take their place by the brown lands. And you're running out of time! The lot of you!"
A random guard hit the orc hard on the back of his head, "Who is your Master?! Speak!"
Krahl spat black blood to the face of the guard that hit him, and snarled loudly to him before turning his yellow glare slowly to Eoden, "My Master wanted you to know she wept. You know of who I speak. How precious is the daughter of Ellessar to you, young Rohirrim? No one can help her now…" Krahl cackled demonically, knowing full well he was delivering a low blow, even though he was bound and helpless.
Krahl's words fueled Eoden's rage; his words like a trespass to all that was loved by him.
King Eomer did not force his son to hold back, yet stepped aside, seeing that what they sought was hopeless, painted only by blacked words that spewed from a foul tongue, feeding to only more questions, and yet not answers. There was nothing more he could do to mediate the fate determined, though it was so unlike him to attempt, had it not concerned the daughter of his brother in arms, he may not have even made effort, and so was the silent stepping aside of Eomer, as if saying "So be it" and there he went in shadows to conspire with King Aragorn.
Eoden thrust his sword through the orc with livid rage, not mercy, but a slow penetration. The blade steeped, breaking the skin, pausing. Then more, and pausing yet again passed the gurgle of blood mixing with air. And if the Orc didn't quickly give in to death, it would be slow and satisfy he who held the blade against that which defied the name of its oath. Krahl could only gasp deep and loud as the blade of his murderer delivered the slow death of who taunted him by blacked words.