Chance Encounter: Legacy of the Third Age
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Chapter 20: The Price of a Son
Asatarë looked at the men and dwarf gathered around him. They were so determined that trying to dissuade them would be impossible. "Not all of you can take part in this," he said. "You will be severely weakened after the procedure, and we need men to defend us."
All eyes turned to Achilles. "You're not going to be taking part," said Will to the Greek. "We need you to guard us."
"If you think I fear for my life, then you are sorely mistaken," said Achilles, glaring at the pirate. "Legolas is my friend also, do not forget."
"We don't doubt your courage and your loyalty," said Balian, "but you are the best fighter, and with the rest of us weakened, we'll need your skill to defend us. Paris, you are also not taking part."
"And why not?" demanded the Trojan prince.
"You're the only one who can use a bow," said Balian. "I know Jack and the others have their pistols, but they've run out of shots."
"Cadogan," said Asatarë. "We will need your skills as a healer after this."
"I will be glad to serve, Elder," said the druid, bowing.
So it was decided. Cadogan went off in search of herbs while Paris and Achilles, both united in indignation, went off to take their positions as guards. For once, their annoyance was not directed at each other, but at the others. However, they pushed their personal grudges aside. Deep down, they could see the reason behind such a decision. The last thing their wounded comrade needed was for them to bicker amongst themselves about such trivial things.
The Maia had retrieved the Irminsul from Legolas' leather pouch, and he now placed the glowing stone on the elf's chest. He ordered the others to put their hands on the stone. "You must touch the stone," he said. "It will join your life forces."
Balian flinched as his hand came into contact with the cold surface. It was so cold that it burned him. However, he did not move his hand away. As the others did the same, he could suddenly 'hear' their thoughts inside his head. There was Will, worrying about how Elizabeth and his children would cope should anything go wrong. Then there was Jack, wishing he could have more rum to steel his nerves and that the stone wasn't so 'bloody freezing'. Fulk's thoughts were full of doubts, but he wanted to contribute somehow. Gimli, on the other hand, was entirely focused on Legolas and praying to Mahal that he would once again be able to banter with his friend. It was unnerving to know what his friends were thinking, and the Frank felt more than just a little uncomfortable. The thought that they probably knew what he was thinking made him even more nervous.
Then he forgot all about that as Asatarë began to chant in an ancient tongue. His voice had grown deeper, and less like that of an old man. The light of the Irminsul surrounded all of them. And then Balian could see images of a great dark forest with a canopy so thick that it blocked out almost all the sunlight. He could see elven guards stationed around the base of a tree. One of them looked up and called out to someone in the canopy. There was only a hiss in reply.
The image changed. He was now in a grand stone hall, lit by many lamps. A majestic elven king sat enthroned, with a crown of golden leaves on his head. Immediately, he could see the family resemblance between the king and Legolas. 'This must be King Thranduil,' he realized. He was seeing Legolas' thoughts.
A dull ache began to grow in his side, corresponding to Legolas' wound. He could feel the elf's desperation as he tried to cling onto life. And then he felt himself growing weak as his life was drawn out of him and used to strengthen his friend. His breathing started to quicken. His thoughts mingled with that of his companions until he could no longer distinguish his thoughts from theirs. There was great confusion, but at the centre of it all was fear; fear that this would not save Legolas, fear that this would kill them all.
'Have hope,' Balian tried to tell himself—and his companions, but even he did not believe it. The pain was growing, as was the weakness in his limbs. His life force was going somewhere, and he hoped that it was going to Legolas.
And then it all stopped. The connection was broken and he could no longer hear his friends' thoughts. He opened his eyes and looked around. Everyone seemed to be as shaken as he was. His whole body ached as if he was falling ill. Actually, he did feel ill. There was a film of cold sweat on his face.
"Did it work?" Gimli managed to say. Even the dwarf's usually strong voice was shaking. Slowly, he turned to Asatarë. The Maia was leaning against a tree, for his body was too weak to support him. His face was as pale as new cheese.
"I hope it did," he said. "Or we will have taken this risk for nothing." Summoning his remaining strength, he reached out and felt for Legolas' pulse. There, it was steadier and stronger now, and although the poison was still in his body, he had the strength to fight it. He nodded to let the others know. "He will live," said the Maia.
There seemed to be a collective gasp of relief. Balian tried to get up, then he fell back with a groan. He had no strength left in him, it seemed. His limbs were shaking so much that he could hardly control them. He felt someone support him. It was Agnes. The girl had shifted so that her arm supported his neck and head, and she had put a cup to his lips.
"Drink," she said, trying to sound braver than she felt. She'd seen everything, and she'd been terrified. "Cadogan said it would help." She expected him to say something, but he simply obeyed her and took a sip.
As the liquid hit his tongue, he noticed that not even the honey and the mead could mask the medicinal bitterness of the other ingredients. He forced it down and took another sip. The liquid slid down his throat and seemed to light a fire in his stomach. Agnes was right; it did make him feel better, although nothing, save for time, would be able to help him to regain his former strength. He wasn't sure if they had that much time.
"Luv," he heard Jack croak to Anna-Maria. "Can you add some more mead to that? I think I deserve a decent dose."
"Do you ever stop thinking about your drinks?" Anna-Maria scolded him half-heartedly, but she did as he asked anyway. She could hardly refuse him now that he was lying here, all weak and exhausted from doing the right thing.
Paris had built a fire; he had a feeling that his exhausted friends were going to need the warmth. He would never admit it out loud, but he was now very glad that he had been excluded from the procedure. It had looked unpleasant at the very best. He added some more pieces of wood to the fire. The fuel was damp, but that could not be helped. There was nothing dry to be found for miles.
"Take care that you don't smother that fire," said Achilles. "It'll take a long time to start another one."
"I know exactly what I'm doing," retorted Paris acidly. Why must that Greek always treat him as if he was still a pampered spoiled younger son of a king? He'd been through much and fought many battles, even if they hadn't been big ones. Yet Achilles still insisted on belittling him. Of course, it was in the arrogant man's nature. What Briseis saw in him, Paris did not know. "If you're so knowledgeable, oh great Achilles, then why don't you help?"
"Someone needs to stand guard," said Achilles. "I don't see you doing it."
"That's because I'm lighting the fire, or do you want us all to freeze to death?"
"Quiet, you two!" said Elizabeth as she passed them. "You make so much noise that blind men would be able to find us without much trouble." The two men wisely kept silent after that. One did not defy Elizabeth Swann-Turner, especially not when she was in this mood.
The woman fussed over her weakened husband, who was trying, without any success, to convince her that he was fine. "If you're fine, Will Turner, then the Locker is Paradise," she said. "Now drink your medicine. Yes, all of it, Mr. Turner. I don't do anything by half-measures, and you know it." Will made a face, but he obediently drank all of the medicine in the horn.
"How's Legolas?" he asked.
"He's resting, I think," said Elizabeth. "It is too early to tell."
He could hear voices; a lot of voices. Foggy darkness surrounded him. There was light coming from somewhere, and he was trying desperately to get to it. The darkness seemed to drag him down like mud in a bog. The voices lent him strength, and he pushed through the shadows. The light was getting closer, and the voices were becoming clearer. There was great worry, and it was all directed at him. Well, most of it anyway. Someone was lamenting the lack of rum. Legolas had to be amused. Jack.
Then there was something else. Ah, Balian was thinking of his son, and his dead wife...no, perhaps he didn't really want to know the details. He pushed that distraction aside. Why was he seeing all of these things?
"He's waking!" said an excited voice. It seemed so soft to his ears. The elf slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could make out a face staring down at him.
"Welcome back," said Paris. The elf blinked in confusion. His friend's voice was muffled and it sounded as if Paris was speaking from a great distance.
"What happened?" whispered Legolas. "I remember getting shot, and then there was only darkness."
"You were poisoned," said Paris. "Asatarë did something with life forces to keep you alive." Legolas heard Asatarë say something, but he couldn't make out what it was. There was something wrong with his hearing, and his sight was not improving either. He slowly flexed his fingers. Ai, there was no strength in his hands. He felt as limp as a dead fish.
"What did he say?" asked the elf, embarrassed that he needed to ask in the first place.
"He said he used the others' life forces to supplement yours so that you could survive long enough to recover," said Paris. "You could not hear him?"
"No," said the elf.
"Perhaps it's the poison," said Paris, squeezing the elven prince's hand. It was not hard to see the distress in his wounded friend's face. From his limited experience, he knew that the elves prized their senses. "I am certain that you will be fine very soon."
Legolas nodded. The movement was so slight that it was almost imperceptible. His eyes closed again. He felt so tired, as if he was mortal. He remembered Aragorn describing how it felt to be sick to him, and the way he felt now fitted that description very well. There was a headache hammering at his temples. He shivered. Why was it so cold?
Someone wrapped a blanket around him. "Can we move him closer to the fire?" he heard Briseis ask. It felt as if he was surrounded by a cocoon which blocked out sounds from outside. "He's shivering, and his hands are icy."
"That might not be wise," said Cadogan. "The wound is deep."
"But he'll die of cold otherwise," said the woman. That sounded odd to Legolas. Elves were not supposed to be as sensitive to the temperatures as mortals were, and they would certainly not freeze to death in this mild weather. What was the cold of Scotland compared to the cold of Caradhras? He remembered thinking that all his friends' complaints about the cold had been rather amusing and exaggerated. Surely the temperature could not have changed so drastically in such a short time.
"This isn't right," said Paris, voicing Legolas' thoughts. "Elves do not sicken as we men do. His head is hot to the touch. I think he's fevering up."
"There was iron on that arrow," said Cadogan, as if that explained everything. "The Immortal Folk can be seriously harmed by iron."
"Not these Immortal Folk," said Asatarë. The Maia had regained some strength. At least he no longer looked like a walking corpse. "It's the poison, as the young prince has said. I can only hope that the symptoms will fade with time."
They knew they could not stay. It was too dangerous. No doubt Ambrosius was still looking for them. Jack was still weaker than he would have liked to be, but with the help of Cadogan's medicine, and the druid's excellent mead, he was on the mend, just like the others. Of course, he was of the opinion that they were not recovering as well as he was just because unlike him, they weren't consuming enough alcohol.
"No, Jack," Will said when the pirate suggested that he drink more mead. "I would rather not have to deal with a headache."
"You have no right to talk, Whelp," Jack replied, grinning brightly. Yes, he was almost back to normal, or as normal as Captain Jack Sparrow would ever be. "You're a drinker of absinthe."
"I take a little nip every now and then," retorted Will, who was quite aware of what Elizabeth thought of his bad habit. "That hardly qualifies as a 'drinker'."
"I was not aware that alcohol had medicinal properties," said Fulk, looking rather confused. He had no idea what 'absinthe' was, and as a man who'd more or less lived a monastic life, he hardly drank any alcohol.
"It does if you're Captain Jack Sparrow," said Jack.
Legolas was still too weak to walk without support, but he was slowly regaining colour. However, he had remained silent and sombre. Gimli, who was his constant companion, suspected that he was still feeling the effects of the poison. "It's hard on you, isn't it, laddie?" he asked softly, when he was certain that most of the others were not listening. Paris, who was the one supporting the elf, glanced at the pair of friends and said nothing.
"I feel as if I've been blinded and deafened," said Legolas. "Is this how you mortals feel all the time?"
"I guess it would be," said Gimli. "We certainly cannot count the number of soldiers in a battalion when they are five leagues away."
"And we can't hear everyone's conversations," added Paris.
"Oh no, that I can do," said Legolas wryly. "Paris, can you please tell Will that I have no desire to know what he wants to do with Elizabeth once we're out of this mess?" He might have lost his keen senses, but the elf certainly had not lost his sense of humour.
"You can hear that?" asked Paris.
"One of the effects of that procedure, I believe," said Asatarë, turning to look at them. "They all gave him part of their life force, so he now has a link with them. That, I assure you, is temporary. Perhaps I should tell them to be careful with their thoughts." With that, he strode ahead and tapped Will on the shoulder. As the Maia whispered to Will, the young man's face turned bright red, and he could not meet Legolas' gaze.
"I am very glad indeed to have been left out of that procedure," said Paris. He pitied Will, for the English seemed to be very uptight about such things. Knowing that Legolas had been privy to his most private passionate desires must be very embarrassing for him. Even the Trojan, who considered himself to be very open about this sort of activity, felt uncomfortable.
"As am I," said Legolas. "I shudder to think what I might be seeing and hearing if I was privy to your thoughts."
"Are you insulting me, prince of Greenwood?" asked Paris in mock anger. Personally, he was rather glad to get Legolas talking again and to act more like his old wry self. At least it took the elf's mind off his ailment.
"Do you deny that you have an extraordinary knowledge of all matters carnal?" asked Legolas.
"Gentlemen!" cried Jack. "We have ladies present!" The pirate had seen the look of shock on Agnes' face, and he thought it would be a good idea to change the direction of such a conversation before the girl fainted.
"As if I have not heard such talk before, Jack Sparrow," Elizabeth retorted.
"Captain! It's Captain Jack Sparrow! And it's official now. Even the King recognizes it!"
"Not my cousin, the King of France," said Balian, who was beginning to understand what his friends were trying to do. He sniffed the air. Despite the overwhelming earthy scent of wet dead leaves, he could smell something else; the sea. Oh, yes, Legolas would definitely need all the distraction they could provide. First the effects of the poison, and now Sealonging; that elf was going to be feeling terrible very soon.
"I mean King Elessar of Gondor, you buffoon!" said Jack.
"Then you should have said so," said Balian. "There are kings and there are kings, and not all of them are Aragorn."
"Don't forget," added Achilles, "he is also King Elessar of Arnor."
"Yes, I know that, oh great Captain of the Elite Guard."
"I have no doubt that by the time we get back, we'll all have been dismissed from our posts," said Elizabeth.
"He would not dismiss us, Lizzie," said Jack. He glanced back at Legolas. Yes, the elf was completely distracted and looking very amused. Good. "We established the navy and got him most of his ships, savvy? We even designed the flag, and named the ships."
"If I remember correctly, Aragorn was not too pleased about the ships' names," said Balian.
"What do you know? You were too busy training armies—" Jack stopped himself in midsentence. No, this was not a good thing to remind Balian about. "Not that we blame you," he quickly added. "The point is, we founded the Gondorian Navy, and being a good and just king, Aragorn wouldn't dismiss us just because we went missing for...how long have been here for now?"
"A few months," said Will. "Let's just hope that there were no pirate attacks on Gondor during the past few months."
"Even if there was, it shouldn't be a problem," said Jack in his usual off-hand manner. "We left Ragetti and Pintel behind...all right, so maybe there is a reason to worry."
"I'm sorry for interrupting the banter," said Paris from the back of the company. "But where are we headed for? We've got the Irminsul, and surely we are going to get rid of it."
"Get rid of it?" said Asatarë. "The Valar entrusted it into my care, and I would die before I let you smash it into a thousand smithereens."
"If I remember correctly," said Jack, "the Valar sent you here to guard the stone so that no one would be able to get it. If we, say, somehow found some miraculous method of putting an end to the existence of said stone, then no one would be able to obtain it for his own gain, and therefore you have fulfilled your task and thus be free to scurry back to wherever it is that you came from and be free of this tiresome wretched hellhole which we unfortunate mortals simply happen to know as Scotland, savvy?"
Asatarë fell silent for a few moments. So did everyone else. They were all trying to make sense of what the pirate had said, for he had spoken so quickly that they could hardly separate one word from another. Jack sighed. He really did feel that his talent was wasted on his simple and honest friends.
"You mean if we destroy the Irminsul, everyone will be happy?" said Gimli.
"Exactly!" cried Jack. "My dear friends, it has become apparent to me that you seem to take far too many moments to absorb the wisdom of my words, and that has led me to wonder how in the world you have managed to save said world from disaster so many times considering you, combined together, do not seem to have the capabilities of understanding seemingly simple language which just happens to flow from the mouth of this dashing scallywag—"
"Jack, please," said Balian, whose head was now reeling with the sheer number of words which needed processing. "Don't you ever get thirsty?"
"Why do I have the distinct feeling that I've just been insulted?" muttered Paris. He knew exactly what Jack was trying to say, and he sincerely wished that the pirate would be slightly more straightforward. It would save a lot of time and headaches.
"You have been insulted, my dear prince," said Jack. "At least one of you noticed."
"Believe me, Jack, I knew before you even started talking," said Will. "You had that look on your face."
"I believe you still have not answered my question," said Paris. "Where are we going?"
"To the sea," said Asatarë. "Can you not smell it, young man? I was hoping to be able to get to Ireland, where it would be almost impossible to find us."
"I think Ambrosius would know we that we would try to head for wilder territories, and he would follow us," said Balian.
"I, for one, want to go back to Middle Earth," said Elizabeth. She missed Willie and Little Jane, and she wanted nothing more than to hold them in her arms again. No doubt they would be missing her and Will.
"Lizzie, we've got no way to get back to Middle Earth and you know it," said Jack.
"Not necessarily," began Balian slowly. He turned to Barbossa. "You said that to get to World's End, one needs to be truly lost at sea, am I correct?"
"Aye," said Barbossa. However, he looked just as confused as all the rest of them, with the exception of Legolas, who knew exactly what Balian was thinking.
"World's End seemed to be linked with all the other worlds, so if we can somehow get to World's End, then we would be able to get back to Middle Earth, with some help from Hector and Calypso, no doubt. Once we're back in Middle Earth, we can consult others as to what we should do with the Irminsul."
"That is the most outlandish idea I have ever heard, lad," said Gimli. "I like it."
"Then it is a pity that you will never get to try it." That voice made them stiffen, for they had been so busy talking that they had not noticed that they had been followed. Now, once again, they were surrounded.
Jack rolled his eyes and pulled out his pistol. Three more shots, and that was it. "I hate it when you turn up, Your Imminence," he said.
"Eminence," corrected Elizabeth automatically.
"Whatever," said Jack, rolling his eyes. "I ain't botherin' with callin' him by the right titles and whatnot because he ain't gonna be much when I'm through with him, savvy?" The pirate pointed his pistol at the cardinal. "So, if you'll excuse me, you unholy-cowl-wearin' bastard, you can simply just ride away on your little donkey all the way back to Rome and ne'er bother us again, or I could just put a lead ball right in the middle of yer forehead, savvy? It's all quite simple really, and either way suits me fine. I'm just givin' you the courtesy of choosin'."
"I think I would be the one giving you choices," said Ambrosius, "and you have two. Surrender and be judged in Rome, then be executed, or fight and die now. Your choice."
"Apologies," said Barbossa, who'd also pulled out his pistol. He'd been a bit wiser in that he'd saved just one more shot than Jack. "But I be thinkin' I like this third way a lot more." He didn't even wait for Ambrosius to respond, but fired just as he finished his sentence. Unfortunately for the old pirate, although not for Ambrosius, Barbossa still had not recovered his strength fully, and the pistol's recoil changed his aim just a little. Instead of hitting the cardinal in the centre of the forehead, as he had intended, the shot went through the cardinal's shoulder.
All hell broke loose, literally. The loud bang caused the horses to panic, creating a break in the ring of men which surrounded them. The rabble of heretics and pagans took their chance and ran through it before the soldiers could regroup. The soldiers gave chase, but the trees seemed to be against them, for they hindered the movement of the horses, snagging manes and legs on branches and roots.
Barisian clutched Balian's hand and tried his best to keep up. However, during the chaos, he lost his grip and became separated from his father. The boy tried his best to keep calm and out of the way of the fighting men. His father was there, and he was sure that he would be safe. And then someone grabbed him from behind and clapped a hand over his mouth so he couldn't scream.
"Balian!" shouted Ambrosius. His voice was thick with pain from his gunshot wound, but there was triumph also. "Look at what I have!"
Balian's heart almost stopped when he saw that the Inquisitors now had his son. He tried to lunge forward, but someone pulled him back. "Calm down," he heard Barbossa whisper into his ear. "He be tryin' to trap us. Rash actions will do you no good, Master Balian."
"He has my son!" said Balian through gritted teeth.
Ambrosius smiled. He had the key to controlling these heretics now. "If you want the boy back, then you must give me the Irminsul," he said.
Balian turned to Asatarë. His brown eyes bored into the Maia, begging him to save his son, but Asatarë did not even take out the Irminsul. "Think about it, young man," he said instead. "If he gets the jewel, the world we have worked so hard to protect will perish. I do not know the potential of this jewel, but combined with this man's greed, it would be a fearsome thing indeed."
"But my son—" said Balian. He was cut off in midsentence.
"If the sacrifice of one child can save all the children in the world, then perhaps it would be best for you to let go," said the Maia.
"How can you say such a thing?" demanded Balian. He took a step towards Asatarë. "Give me that jewel now. I won't leave my son to die!"
"My lord of Ibelin," called Ambrosius, "my patience grows thin. When you finish negotiating with your fellow heretics, I will be waiting in Rome." The cardinal nodded abruptly at his men, and they turned their horses around. They vanished into the trees, heading south-east, probably for the nearest port. Without horses, it would be impossible to catch up with them. Even if they did somehow manage to catch up with the Inquisitors, they were outnumbered, and it would be impossible to get Barisian back. They needed a plan.
"If that cardinal has any wit on him, he would not harm Barisian," said Elizabeth, trying to comfort Balian. "He knows that won't do him any good."
"But he won't wait forever," said the man softly. "If I don't bring him the Irminsul soon, I don't think I'll see my son again."
"Oh shut it," said Jack. "You're bringin' bad fortune down on us by sayin' all those depressin' things. That kid's smart; I taught him, remember?"
"We can't give him the Irminsul," said Paris, "but we're going to get Barisian back all the same. We rescued you from the grasp of Rome, Balian, and I think we can manage another raid."
"What if we fail?" demanded Balian. "You know what they'll do!" He sank to his knees and clutched his head. "I can't watch them kill my son in front of me...I've been such a failure. I've failed as a husband, a father..."
Seeing that Balian was on the verge of giving up all hope, Legolas knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "There is always hope," he said. "Have we not escaped from Hell itself? Have you not encountered death many times and yet lived to tell the tale? I believe that you and Barisian will be reunited. He is your son, after all, Balian. Have some faith in him."
"This time, they'll be prepared for a raid," said Achilles. "We're going to need an army."
"Just as well we have one at our disposal, then," said Will. Everyone turned to look at him.
"What on earth are you talking about, Whelp?" asked Jack. "You haven't been at the absinthe again while we've not been lookin', have you?"
"No, Jack," said Will, perhaps a little too quickly. "Who do we know has an army, and will do anything for a profit?" They stared at him, looking rather perplexed. He sighed. "Philippe of France, that's who. We can bargain with him; frighten him into helping us with our cause. Rome found it easy enough to persuade him. I don't see why we can't do the same."
"How are we to bargain with Philippe?" demanded Balian. "We have nothing, not even a single gold coin. He would more likely to execute us."
"We might not have any gold," said Will, "but we have the Irminsul and a Maia. I believe they can be very persuasive."
"That's all very well, Master Turner," said Barbossa. "But Philippe be in France, an' we be stuck in Scotland."
"Perhaps it's time to call on my brother again," said Paris.
A/N: More chaos is about to come. Then again, I'll bet you expected it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.