Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Chapter 25: Howls in the Dark

Eglamir and Belhast brought the packs and Eglamir's horse to the fire and sat down with the others. The flames crackled merrily and the drying clothes had started to steam, spreading the unpleasant odour of wet wool and cotton into the air. The day was still as cold as before, but beside the fire it was tolerably warm and nice, especially after Belhast had spread the tent canvas on the ground to sit on.

They ate in silence, but then Belhast asked:

"Eglamir, you spoke of something worse than wolves? Did you mean brigands?"

"I did, but there is also a slight possibility that some raiding party from the North has come to here."

Eglamir tossed a branch into the fire and continued:

"It would be the first time they came this far south, but that cannot be ruled out."

Finrosc said:

"What is this talk of the North, anyway? We have heard rumours, but nothing clearer."

Eglamir replied:

"There is a new realm up North, called Angmar, the Iron-Home. They say it is ruled by an evil King who is also a powerful sorcerer and commands evil Men and even Orcs. No one knows where he came from or who he is. But the fact remains that during the last fourteen or fifteen years there have been raids in northern Arthedain and Rhudaur."

He frowned.

"Year by year the attackers' numbers grow more and our power remains the same. Dark years may be ahead."

"Well, be that as it may, but why do you think there's robbers or what not around?" Finrosc said.

Eglamir turned and pointed behind himself.

"Look at the horizon and you will see smoke rising from the hilltop yonder. It cannot be a farm, since there is only forest in that direction."

Belhast looked at the pointed direction but could not at first see anything but wooded hills rolling beyond the horizon. At length, however, his eyes caught a very faint hint of rising smoke some miles away. It was only a very thin shadow against the sky, and Belhast would surely not have noticed it without knowing it was there. A feeling of uneasiness started to poke at the back of his mind, but he asked:

"Could it not be a mere traveller?"

"When snow covers the woods and in a place where there are no roads? I do not think so. Only a blind man, or a fool, would lose his way so badly."

Eglamir rose to examine the clothes, speaking while he was thus engaged:

"You see now why we must hurry away. In fact, I almost hope they are Orcs."

Finrosc's eyes widened in surprise.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

The answer was calm:

"Because then we have little to fear until the sundown. In a day like this the Orcs cannot see almost anything and will lie resting in such shade as they can find."

He turned Gutrune's jacket around on the rack and shook her boots. Meanwhile, Belhast and Finrosc exchanged a worried look behind his back.

It took until three hours after the midday for the clothes to dry so much that they could be worn. When Eglamir noticed that, he instantly put the fire out, taking care that the ashes did not smoke. He was obviously dissatisfied that his plans of reaching The Forsaken Inn by night had now been rendered void, but there was nothing he could do to mend it. Accordingly, he hurried the others to make ready quickly, to save even some of the lost time.

Belhast and Finrosc did not bother with changing since their old clothes were tolerably warm. Gutrune, however, gladly drew her garments on while the men again looked away. She was still too beaten to walk much, but with Eglamir's help she managed to climb on the black warhorse. Finrosc, who already had been helped on Dummy, saw this and protested:

"Hey, why are we taking her with us, anyway? Let her rot here, I say!"

Eglamir gave him a severe look.

"Would you be a murderer? If we abandon her here, the wolves could well attack her as soon as we were out of scent. She may be a thief, but she is still a woman in trouble and I will not suffer any harm to come to her until she is somewhere safe."

While not particularly infused with any sense of chivalry, Belhast still agreed with the dunadan. He, too, reluctantly spoke:

"We can't leave her, that's a sure thing. I don't know about you but I don't want to know that I left her to serve as a lunch to the wolves. We'll get rid of her in the Forsaken Inn at latest, anyway. So stop complaining, especially since you have a free ride."

Finrosc bit his lips, obviously striving to control his anger. Belhast frowned a little when he saw that.

"Roscy seems to take this thing way too far. Why is he still so worked up, anyway? Gutrune got her desserts and in any case is not a threat anymore," he thought. Then he shrugged and checked the straps of his pack, taking it on his back.

By now Finrosc was calmer and said:

"Very well, then. I'm not a killer, either. But you, Eglamir, should watch your horse in case she decides to ride away on it."

Eglamir smiled faintly.

"I would wonder very much if she succeeded in that. Alagos obeys only me, so she would not get ten paces before she found herself thrown on the ground."

Gutrune looked at Finrosc with weary annoyance.

"Precisely. So could you please stop that? I've made enough stupid tricks for the day."

Finrosc returned a venomous look but fell silent. He remained so while Belhast checked for the last time that their gear was securely strapped on Dummy's back. Then, without more ado, they started their journey.

They went as fast as they could and covered many miles in a few hours. Whatever Belhast thought about Eglamir's trustworthiness, he still had to admit that the man obviously was a skilled woodsman. Even though the dunadan always seemed to be quite at ease, his eyes wandered to and fro, not missing a detail. Twice he stopped for a brief moment to listen, then hurried them on even faster than before. Belhast was not sure, but it was as if he, too, could hear some faint rustle from the woods that surrounded the road from either side.

An hour after their departure the sun started to set and a blue twilight crept under the trees. As the sun sunk deeper, the coming darkness cast its veil over the road, much too soon for the quartet's taste. Gradually the twilight deepened into a near blackness, since the moon had not yet risen and would not do so until hours later. Bright stars started to kindle in the cloudless sky, but their light was not much to speak of. The wind quieted and there was an oppressing stillness everywhere in the woods. Now and again, however, some tree shed its load of snow to the ground. Every time that happened, Belhast started a little and Finrosc and Gutrune straightened in their saddles, casting fearful glances around them. The threat of wolves had strained their nerves more than they cared to show. Only Eglamir maintained his composure.

They stopped for a brief pause two hours after the sunset, but then pressed on again. Despite of the short rest Belhast was almost spent only two hours afterwards. He had from the start had problems keeping up with the dunadan's long stride, and the various aches all over his body did not particularly help in that. He was compelled to grasp Finrosc's stirrup just to keep himself going. Finally he had to call out:

"Eglamir, stop! I can't take more unless we rest a bit."

The dunadan looked at him with something like disapproval, but nodded.

"Very well. A half an hour must suffice, however. There is still three or four hours' journey left and I do not like to delay. So eat and rest as well as you may."

The others did not need a second command, and ate with gusto. Eglamir, however, finished his meal speedily and remained in an alert position. Suddenly he raised his hand in a warning gesture.

"Hush! Listen!"

They did so, but could not hear anything special at first. Then, however, a soft sound, like small feet treading the snow came to their ears. It was soon accompanied by other similar sounds and something like low growls. They came from the thickets that were lying in the deepest shadows under the trees. Belhast licked his lips nervously and looked at his companions. Gutrune was deathly pale and her fingers trembled on her lap, but Finrosc was still like he had been sculpted from stone. His mouth hung half open and his eyes stared to the woods before him.

Eglamir, however, was not so paralysed from fear. He jumped up and shouted with a loud voice. The rustle quieted for a moment, then there was a rushing sound and the others could see grey forms sliding between trees only some dozens of yards from them. They quickly disappeared from sight.

At the sight of them Dummy, who had showed signs of uneasiness for the whole of the past hour, screamed from fright and reared on its hind legs. It would have bolted, but Belhast rushed up just in time, despite the protest of his aching limbs. With difficulty he managed to force Dummy to stay in its place and to calm down. The gelding, however, continued to tremble all over. Belhast patted it, murmuring soothing words in its ear. Over Dummy's neck he glanced at Alagos. The stallion was ostensibly calm, but it had drawn its ears close to its head and its every muscle was strained. Not a sound of distress escaped its mouth.

Belhast didn't have the time to admire the excellent training of the warhorse, since Eglamir now spoke in a grave tone:

"We must leave at once. Belhast, help those two on the saddle!"

He then bared his knife and started to cut a juniper bush that grew at the roadside. Meanwhile, Belhast helped Finrosc on his feet and then on the horseback. He did likewise to Gutrune, who flashed a surprisingly grateful look at him.

Eglamir rose from his squatting position and quickly stepped to the horses. He now held four hastily made torches, two of which he handed to Finrosc and Gutrune.

"Keep hold of them if your lives are dear to you! Light them the instant I say so."

Finrosc took the torch and tucked the torch under his belt. Gutrune grasped hers tightly in her gloved hand. When that was done, Eglamir drew his two spears from their holster and handed one of them to Belhast, saying:

"Here, use it if necessary. When you thrust, aim for the eyes or the throat."

Belhast only nodded and weighted the weapon in his hand. It was well balanced, as far as he could tell, and designed both for thrusting and throwing. The feel of it made Belhast's mind somewhat steadier, but he still couldn't help cold sweat forming on his forehead.

They took off, going at an even faster rate than before. At first there was no sign of the wolves, but after an half of an hour the small rustle in the forest started again. They saw shadows gliding under the trees, too dark and large to be caused by the flickering starlight. At intervals nerve-racking little barks and suppressed growls came to their ears.

They continued for almost two hours like this, and Belhast's fear rose with every moment. The dark grey shadows came nearer and nearer, seemingly an inch at a time and occasionally Belhast could see the glint of eyes peering at them from among the underbrush. He felt that he must do something soon or snap.

Suddenly a silvery light grew on the road and cast long shadows among the trees. The moon was rising above the treetops. A moment of silence ensued, but then a fearful howl rang through the air. A chorus of others followed, a long and horrid series of wails that made the brothers and Gutrune to tremble.

Belhast turned his head to his left and saw now the wolves clearly. There were perhaps a dozen of them on that side of the road alone, big and evil-looking beasts that stood only some thirty yards from the road.

Suddenly a bow rang and a loud whelp was heard from the right side of the road. The wolves let out a last, furious howl and then fell silent. Belhast whipped around and saw Eglamir standing with a bow in his hands. Behind him, among the bushes, a furry bundle sprawled on the ground. In the moonlight Belhast could see an arrow protruding from it and the dark stain of blood on the snow.

Eglamir took another arrow from the quiver and put it under his belt, shouting:

"Onwards, quickly, while they will feast on the carcass!"

He showed example by taking Alagos's reins and speeding along the road in a sort of half-run. As he had predicted, the wolves attacked their wounded pack member, a few even leaping over the road without even glancing at the travellers. A babel of barks and snarls sounded from the tumult of the hungry animals.

But now a difficulty arose. Dummy, who was badly shocked by the howls, refused to budge. Finrosc dug his heels into its side, cursing the animal aloud, but it still remained standing where it was, shivering and neighing.

Angry and desperate, Belhast raised his spear and pricked Dummy's hindquarters with it, yelling:

"Move, you worthless piece of shit!"

That did the trick, and Dummy broke into a run. Belhast had just time to take hold of the stirrup before it would have rushed out of reach. Half running, half being dragged, he clung to the stirrup until they had reached the others. Eglamir, who had been compelled to wait for them, snapped:

"What were you waiting for? Once more and I must abandon you! And now hurry!"

The brothers were not in a position to argue, but obeyed. The horses were urged to such a speed that the two unmounted men could just keep up with them. Belhast didn't now even remember his bruises. A hot rush of blood coursed in his veins, giving him the last drop of strength he needed at the moment.

They went like this for half an hour, but then they were compelled to slow down. Belhast was again in the danger of collapsing if he ran much longer. He could, however, still force himself to walk and did so, gritting his teeth. Maybe he could die far from home, but he would not end up as the dinner of wild beasts, or so he promised to himself.

A silence spread again around them, and no wolves were to be seen. For a while they thought they had managed to escape, but then chilling yowls and barks sounded from the woods behind them. Looking back, Belhast could see the running forms of the wolves approaching them. He exclaimed:

"There they are again!"

Eglamir looked over his shoulder for an instant and then motioned quickly to Finrosc and Gutrune.

"Light the torches!"

Finrosc struck light with a feverish haste and luckily managed to get the torch burning at the first try. He leaned towards Gutrune who took light to her torch without wasting a moment. The red flames illuminated their faces, which were contorted in badly concealed fear.

Even though they had moved all the time, the wolves were faster still. They soon caught up with the group, but instead of attacking straight away they divided, some of them running ahead of the travellers, some staying on the sides of the road. One bold wolf almost brushed Belhast when it sped past him. Belhast instinctively thrust his spear towards the wolf. It caught the wolf on its ribs but glanced away from the bone without making more than a shallow gash on the thick hide. The animal swerved and almost fell, but remained on its feet and ran off with a pained yelp. The rest still maintained their distance, but how long, no one could tell.

"What are they doing, Eglamir? Why don't they attack?" asked Gutrune hoarsely.

"They are surrounding us before they will fall on us from all sides," was the reply, delivered in an unnaturally cool manner. The dunadan seemed to ponder for a moment and spoke again:

"We have one chance still. Make noise, all of you! Shout or sing, no matter, but be loud and keep doing it!"

Then he himself yelled aloud and repeated it at small intervals. Gutrune broke into a noisy soliloquy in her own tongue that sounded like a prayer to whatever gods she happened to serve. Seeing, or rather hearing this Finrosc cleared his throat and launched into a song in a voice so raw from fright that it would have caused him to be thrown out of almost any tavern. The song was a ballad about a highway robber called the Wolf, an apt choice perhaps but not exactly mood-lifting at the moment. Belhast joined the song, bellowing like he was being beaten.

The ruse worked: The wolves instantly retreated farther to the woods, scared by the sudden noise. But they did not flee and continued to run abreast and ahead of the travellers. One of the wolves tried to come nearer, but Eglamir shot it, too. This time, however, the pack didn't bother with the carcass. Only a few of the hungriest wolves stopped to sup on their late friend. But the rest of the pack was now keen on the hunt and went on.

The wolves started again to tighten their circle, only retreating for a moment when the travellers lifted their voices louder than usual. It was obvious that soon they would not anymore care about the torches or the din of voices but would move in for the kill.

Sweat ran now freely under Belhast's clothes and his feet were sore and chafed. Still, he pressed on with the others, even though his hopes of surviving had almost waned. He shouted over Finrosc and Gutrune's voices to Eglamir:

"How long is it to the Forsaken Inn?"

"A five miles or so. We may yet make it."

"May?"

A cold look was the only answer and Belhast resumed, crestfallen, his singing and shouting. His lips moved almost automatically now, and his throat felt like it was scraped with sandpaper. He felt like he was choking. Still, he raised his voice again in a desperate effort.

Then, suddenly, the wolves ahead raised a loud howl. Belhast shivered.

"Oh, no, now they'll attack!" he thought, pressing the spear in his hand so strongly that his knuckles whitened.

But the wolves did nothing of the sort. Instead, they wheeled around and ran away, sending clouds of snow flying as they went. Belhast just stared, not believing his eyes. The wolves were fleeing, but from what?

The answer came a moment later, when furious barks and shouts of men rang from ahead and a pack of muscular hounds ran from the woods ahead them. Right after them rode and ran a group of men in dark green cloaks and jackets, holding hunting spears and bows. They shouted encouragements to the dogs as they came, and quite a few of them held burning torches in their hands.

A great sense of relief came over Belhast, and with it weakness. He let the butt of the spear fall to the ground and leaned heavily on Finrosc's stirrup. He heard faintly as from afar Gutrune's surprised voice:

"Eglamir, who are they?"

"King's forresters, and I daresay they arrived not a moment too soon."

Belhast raised his head and saw that a tall man in his middle years was riding towards the group. When he got near he jumped from the saddle and ran next to Belhast, worry in his eyes. Laying his hand on Belhast's shoulder the man asked:

"Are any of you hurt?"

Belhast only shook his head. He had too much trouble in fighting back a sob to do anything else.

R&R, please.

Alagos = Windstorm.