Chapter 11
The mourning was hot and humid, especially back inside the mountain tunnel. A storm was brewing far in the distance; Túrante guessed it would reach them as they neared their destination. Never a good omen, she thought. Plus it was way too much like a book setting—there is a battle brewing and a storm hits just as the fighting commences. Four days had passed since the orc encounter and the trip had been quite since. Everyone's mood had darkened once again, the pass bringing it on. However, she still forced them to practice fighting every time they took a break and she was pleased to notice great improvement. It would not be too long now before their new skills would be tested.
Bringing her thoughts back to the present, Túrante needed to find the next mileage marker, they should be close to the end of the mountain pass. By a good guess, it was at most only a two days time until they were there. The thought made her pulse quicken and she quickly had to calm her nerves. Her biggest concern would be the number of newborns they would face. And what if Eglanon was there? Without her powers and with the action of the poison still in her body, it would not be good. In the back of her mind Túrante could not help but think of it as a suicide mission, though she would never voice it.
Luckily her dark thoughts were interrupted by a sharp chill wind cut across her face. There had to be a marker soon or they were much closer than was originally planned. Slowing Fëa down she began surveying the right side of the pass. It took only a second and she spotted the marker a mile up, glittering words underneath confirming it. From reading it, they were close—very close. Maybe a day's travel left in the cave, and then it would be straight to Angmar and to Carn Dum.
"My Lords," Túrante called out.
Éomer instantly recognized the marker, though the language was foreign, "How long do we have?"
"Maybe a day in this pass then we will emerge in the north. After that it is another days travel west to come to Carn Dum from behind." Túrante noted their slight nods of acceptance. They all knew it was coming, but now it was right before them and they had no choice but to face it.
"How many of these new creatures can we be expecting to face?" Gandalf asked his tone deep and concerned.
"I do not know. Once we are half a day's journey away, I will do a survey of the fortress and try to get an accurate count of them." She knew Gandalf shared her same fear of the unfairness this fight would hold. He just nodded his head, only confirming the knowledge further.
That was their only rest; they traveled at a canter the rest of the day. It seemed at first her guess was wrong, the end of the cave was nowhere to be seen. However, new scents began to fill her nostrils and the sound of a breeze was barely audible, they had only a few leagues left. It was a relief and also a gut quenching situation. When they reached the end they stopped and made camp. There were still a few hours of daylight left, but they all needed rest; neither man nor wizard said a word.
"We will practice no more from now on. There is nothing else I can teach you. You will need all your strength in the coming days." Túrante told them when she saw Éomer reaching for his weapons.
"What do you mean? Of course you could!" he argued.
"You have learned to focus and follow my movements. You already know war techniques and battle strategies. That is already more than any new fledging." She kept her voice calm, but with her nerves on end, it was hard.
"But they are faster and stronger!"
"My Lord Éomer, you are now able to at least hold your own against me. These vampires will not come close to my abilities. I cannot teach you more that will help you."
That seemed to appease him some, for he did not offer another argument, instead he put his stuff back and sat down on the ground. Túrante knew he was nervous, they all were, but there was nothing else she could do for them but offer rest. In the morning they would make their way to Carn Dum. She made her pallet on the earth and laid down for the sleep that wouldn't come. Túrante watched the sun set and the stars come out, decorating the sky and more clouds roll in covering them. The whole night, her mind was on Legolas and the others.
In the morning there was no sign of the clear night they rested in. The clouds were thick and ominous and the wind was picking up, whipping the trees side to side. Just like she predicted they would arrive with storm, perfect.
Legolas was slowly starting to recover from blacking out the last time. He heard the movement of crates and bags in front of him and leaves rustling in a strong breeze—so they were still outside. He could smell the grass and trees around him along with a strange scent he did not recognized, but it burned his nose. He wanted to open his eyes, but he was scared to see where he was and who was with him. He had been moved from the cart and was tied up on the ground, leaning against something quite sturdy. Ever so slowly he began to open his eyes, leaving them barely open. The light stung his eyes, even though he noticed it was not sunny. Staring at the ground, he could see people moving around, caring things here and there. Curiosity got the better of him and he began to look around, the people paid him no attention; if they knew he was awake, they did not seem to care.
They were all men, tall and slender, pale and strangely beautiful. The one thing that differed on them was their hair color, which seemed to range from every shade. It took only a minute before he began to realize what it was he was looking at. These were the people who attacked them going to Rohan, these were the same creatures Túrante had talked about, they were vampires. The realization terrified him, and Legolas began to struggle against his bonds.
Only one of the vampires took notice, he sauntered over to him, cocking his head to the side, as if examining some foreign animal. He seemed to ponder speaking, and changed his mind. The vampire stood, stared for a moment longer and just walked off, leaving Legolas more perplexed than before. It was only then when he stopped moving did he realize his arms and chest were burning, he looked down and saw blood, dripping from him. He was not bound by rope, but some sort of wire or metal. Escape was not looking promising for him any longer.
In less than a minute, the vampire was back, holding strips of fabric in his hands. Kneeling back down, he had the gag put through Legolas' mouth, as well as the others, in seconds. It was tight enough to cut into the sides of his mouth and draw a small trickle of blood. There was nothing left for him to do, but sit and wait, but for what he did not know.
"We must start moving" Túrante told the men. It was just past dawn, but with the cloud cover, it seemed much earlier and darker.
Once on the move, none of them spoke much, other than an occasional question on their plan of action. The land passing around them was a blur, which did not bother Túrante much. It was a barren wasteland for the most part. There were a few sparse shrubs scattered here and there, with a withered tree every mile or so. The grass, or what little there was, was brown and dead. Even in the warm months of the year, nothing could grow and prosper here, even miles from Angmar.
They had been traveling almost three weeks now and it was close to mid day, almost time for them to stop and for her go head on alone, when she would have to decide their next move. She knew it did not show but inside Túrante was in turmoil, over what she would find and what she would have to do. All of the possibilities she could think of were dangerous and did not have a good option for success—the thoughts scared her.
Too soon that time came and she had the men set a small rest area until she returned. She hoped she could be back by the night fall and they could set their attack by that evening, they needed the cover of night; it would offer them just a bit more hiding.
Now on her own she ran as hard and as fast as she could manage, the landscape blurring past, a mix of grays and browns, the mountains surrounding Carn Dum looming ever nearer. It took a good chunk of the day to get there but Túrante knew she had still made decent time. The first thing she noticed was there smell, they had a distinctive odor, though none she recognized, so they all were newly created. Listening from the tree she was perched in, she heard them moving around, hauling objects. Strange, she thought.
It was time to get them in her sights, if she could smell them, then they could smell her, though they probably would not know what it was. Her big concern was staying out of sight, while spying on them. Túrante crept through the tree tops, until the first vampire came into view about half a mile up. Watching his movements, she noted that he was going away from the fortress, in fact, they all were. Widening her view, she took in about 10 vampires in the area, moving crates, and none entered or exited the stone gate. They were camped outside it.
This was a slightly good note for them, no mazes to get lost in. If they had been inside it would have been just another disadvantage to them. One they did not need. All in all she counted somewhere around 20 to 25 of the creatures, not as many as she had first guessed, unless they were hidden somewhere else.
Legolas. The thought was sudden and instantly she went on the hunt for the captives, hoping to find them still alive. They had to be, Eglanon could have no reason to keep them dead, he would need them alive. Of course she did not know if this was true, but she was clinging to it as a last hope.
It took her a bit longer to find them than she had anticipated; they had placed them in the center of all their activity and she had to be extremely careful. They were tied by some type of strong metal sitting side by side around a large metal post of some kind. But she could see their chest rising and falling, and let out a huge sigh of relief and almost smiled. It looked like they were all awake and all gagged, but they were alive and seemed to be for the most part, unharmed. Turning she began heading back to the men, she had wasted too much time already.
Gandalf and Éomer were full of questions when she returned to their camp that night and she willingly told them everything she knew, even though she was drained and her body ached unmercifully. She needed sleep and rest, but she knew it would be difficult and so she kept talking to the men, also noting there anxious behavior. None of them would get much of the sleep they needed.
All too quick the morning came with gusty winds and dark gray clouds. Part of Túrante had hoped they would dissipate, but she knew it was fools hope. They would be lucky if they made it to their destination before any rain began to fall. She could feel the humidity building in the air.
"We must get moving. We need to get there and have as much daylight as possible." Túrante told them as they all began getting camp packed.
"When we get right on the borders of their hearing span we will stop. They will hear the horses approach and attack; we want them as surprised as possible. I will head in from there and attack. Give me ten minutes and charge in. Most of them should be too preoccupied with me and only a few will come to you."
The horses were antsy and so their gait was choppy. They were eager for battle, but fed off the tenseness of their riders. The landscape was changing as they near, the barren landscape was beginning to have more trees, but they were not normal trees. They were dark and foreboding, as if living by some unnatural means, it would not shock Túrante but she chose not to think on it more.
Hours had passed and it was now close to evening. She slowed Fëa down and the men followed suit. They were about three miles out and Túrante retold them the plan, they only nodded in response, ready to save their friends and scared of it is they were about to face.
Túrante spread her wings and charged into the area, the fledglings scrambled around in confusion, they had been completely unprepared. She found the closest one and struck him hard across the face, sending him flying about a hundred feet. Now they began to understand they were under attack and started growling, Túrante answering with a growl of her own. They were not as fast as she was or as strong and like she guessed, had no good battle training. The young vampires were all over the place and swinging at her haphazardly. She was not keeping track of the time, but soon she heard the hooves thundering towards them but paid little heed. If she did not draw attention to them, less of them would as well.
One of the creatures charged her, fangs bared. Túrante crouched in waiting and sprang at the last minute, catching him by the shoulders. They flew backwards and hit the ground, rolling a few times before stopping. He slashed at her face, only making contact once. She felt the cool blood drip down her cheek and felt the wound begin to heal itself and smirked. It must have frightened the vampire because he quit fighting back and started to squirm, looking for a way to get away. It was not going to happen; she snapped his neck and let the blood drain from him. He died quickly.
She took a few seconds to look around and saw quickly tat Gandalf and Éomer were in trouble, they had been put in a circle, but they were holding their own for now. She found the men wide eyed and struggling against their bonds. As fast as lightening she had their gags out.
"I am going to free you and when I do, find the first weapons you can and hold them off."
She gripped the metal tightly and began pulling. It was tougher than she thought, but it was slowly pulling apart, bit by bit, then it snapped in two. Without another word she went to aid the others. Twin blades out, she sliced through their line and cause chaos once more. They fought back with a vengeance she had not expected. Túrante gritted her teeth and parried the blow aimed at her neck. She wanted to keep watching the others, fearing for them, but she had no time. Once she got tired of the game she went on the offense and started an assault against her opponent and with just two misses. Her blade found his neck.
She kept fighting as one after another came her way. Thinking back on it, it probably was not as many as it seemed. Time drug on and was in a state of slow motion, each second seemed like a minute. Túrante was not sure why, but she had a feeling in her gut it had to do with the poison—it seemed to get stronger the more she exerted herself.
Then a yell broke through her mind, one that was not her own or that of a vampire. The men. Turning quickly, she saw where one of the fledglings had hold of Aragorn, his mouth closing around his neck.
"Oh no." She did not have time to think, she just reacted. Flying towards him, she ripped the vampire away, and it latched on to her. "Get him out of here!" They seemed to hesitate, not knowing whether to do it or stay to keep fighting the remaining three creatures. "NOW!" then they seemed to understand the urgency and jumped into action, running to the king's side. Neither did she wait to see if they listened before jerking the vampire off her. She was now at a standoff with him. The other two circled, not knowing what to do in the situation.
A thought occurred to her, she needed one alive at least for a little while. They needed answers and could not get any with them all dead. Túrante also knew which one it would be, and he was in front of her.
She straightened and the challenger paused looking at her curiously, "I do believe this has gone on quite long enough," she purred and before he could react her twin blades embedded themselves in the hearts of the circling vampires. They would not die instantly, they might not at all for the moment, but she would worry about that later. The other was about to run but Túrante was on him, dragging him back by the leg, "oh no, you shall not be going anywhere."
He landed with a loud crack against the rocky ground, over and over and Túrante laid her assault upon him. Them with her clawed hand around his neck she drove him into the metal pole the men had been tied to. Blood smeared his angular face and was caked in his blond hair. At one point she guessed he had been a man or Rohan.
"Now, if you answer my questions I promise to make your death quick and painless, otherwise I shall torture you. Do you understand?" her voice was cold and hard, laced with venom and loathing.
He violently shook his head and she smiled, "good."
"Where is Eglanon?"
"I...I...I do not know." He stammered in a voice that was melodious and deceiving.
Digging her claws into his neck she spoke again, "I do not believe you." Then she preceded to remover a finger and he yelled into the night. "I have not got all night, so, I will ask again, where is Eglanon?"
He took a minute to compose himself, and it seemed, to think about what his reply should be. Túrante dug in just a bit deeper.
"Angband!" he yelled, half crying, "He went to Angmar, that is where he is relocating to, or so we were told."
That was something that had not even crossed her mind. Him going to Angmar she had thought of but not there, never there. The Land of Angband was far in the North in an ever colder barren place. It really was a place of nightmares. A cold chill ran through her just thinking of it and all the memories that surged with it. She had to force thoughts of it down, there were other questions she needed to know.
"How has he made new vampires?"
"I do not know, only he knows, and only he changes the men. We simply do his bidding." His voice was still shaking.
"What about the prisoners, what were they to be for?"
"I do not know!" he was wailing know, and lying. Túrante could tell.
"Do not lie to me vampire, I will make your death that much worse I promise you." She hissed.
"He will hurt me, kill me! I cannot speak of it!" he was in hysterics by this point.
She brought her hand across his face hard and had her nails embedded as far as they could go into his neck. "You will die either way, right now you need to fear me and forget Eglanon. Why did he want them?"
Her slap brought him semi back to reality and his eyes stared into hers, the life draining out of them and he gave in, realizing nothing would save his life. "To turn them, make them vampire leaders. With them turned and sent back to their realms to rule, he would then be able to gain control over all Middle Earth. Bring on a new age of darkness."
Túrante stood starring at him in stunned silence, the truth of his words hitting home. It was a truly terrifying thought and a well thought out plan that was almost completed. Nodding gently, she told the vampire a quick thank you and killed him.
Now she had to find the men and help Aragorn. He was infected with vampire saliva, and it would kill him if she could find no antidote or a way to remove it. The venom only took a few hours to drain the life from a human.
They had not gone far; in fact they were only a couple hundred yards from the battle scene. They had laid Aragorn on the ground and stood around him whispering. She stood beside them, taking in the man in front of her. She felt Legolas' presence near her and yearned to be closer, yearned for his touch but she had to ignore it, she knew what had to be done.
Gandalf spoke to her first, "Will it kill him?"
"Yes"
He nodded, "How quickly?"
"Just a few hours."
Running a hand down his long face, Gandalf took a deep breath, "What must we do to save him?"
"Get the poison out of him."
Everyone stopped talking at that point and looked at her; it seemed everyone had the same exact thought. It was up to her. The question was—could she do it.
Faramir spoke now, "Gandalf, is that the only option, please tell me there is another way."
"I do not think there is, not that we have access to in time. Túrante is our only choice, if she agrees." Gandalf's voice was soft, he realized what he was asking her to do and what it could cost her, cost all of them.
"Can you do this?" Faramir asked her, voice stern and cold. He was scared.
"I will try if everyone agrees. However, know this, there is a chance I will turn and if the Valar do not kill me, you must. I have never tasted human blood, I can only hope I am strong enough to stop myself."
After a pause, everyone agreed. It was a quick decision but everyone seemed to understand the tight mess they were in. Either way they stood the chance of losing someone.
"Okay," she said, "Faramir, take this sword. If after five minute I have yet to stop, you know what you must do."
He nodded his head. She stepped forward and knelt by Aragorn's side, hands trembling. She took one last look back, eyes looking with Legolas. She was scared, terrified to be exact. For thousands of years she had resisted blood, now she was going to have to find a way to suck the blood and poison from him and not actually drink any of it, Túrante did not even know if it was possible but she had to try. She watched as the corners of Legolas' mouth turned gently up in a smile. Túrante turned her head by to the man in front of her.
Then with a quick intake of breath she sank her fangs into his neck and was lost in the bloodlust.
