Thranduil stepped over the bodies of four Easterlings as he surveyed the area. He paused to wipe the blood from Seren's blade on a cooling leg. It had been a patrol left in place to watch the main gate. They'd immediately loosed their arrows and drawn their swords when he and his people approached. His bid to draw attention from the keep had been denied. The members of his group were returning to him after assessing the immediate vicinity and reporting no activity so they pressed further in.
They found the first evidence of what became of Lake Town's citizens soon after entering the outermost market. Men and women littered the sides of the streets, pushed out of the way after their throats were slashed and blood painted the wooden planks on which they walked. The dead were all older or infirm.
"The Eastern tribes do not take prisoners they cannot sell," said one of the king's warriors.
Another gritted his teeth and added, "Such disregard for the wise…"
"We will concern ourselves with them later," Thranduil stated flatly. He could not allow a moment's distraction.
He strode deeper into the market, looking around and listening for movement, ready to deflect any cowardly attacks from the shadows or shuttered windows. He was keenly aware of his armor's absence and it made him all the more alert. As they moved on and spread out again, they encountered Bard and his group not far from the smaller docks.
"Have you had much trouble advancing through the city?" the elvenking asked immediately.
Bard shook his head. "There was a patrol on the pier but we dealt with them." The bowman squinted at his surroundings. "I expected more resistance."
Thranduil hummed in agreement. The lack of confrontation was unsettling, though no one dared to offer conjecture about the reason for it.
For another hour they advanced and dealt with two more patrols but the city seemed deserted besides. When they neared the market proper, they found Tellis and his group. By their appearance, it seemed they had greater difficulty making their way from the far side of the city.
The advisor sported a bloody swath on his longcoat's left sleeve. It was neatly parted across the bicep and red, torn skin flashed through layers of silk and wool.
"How do you fare?" Thranduil demanded, eyes tracking the wound for a moment.
"Well enough." Tellis looked back toward the rest of his group. They were all splattered with blood and the stains were at least an hour old already.
"There is a small cargo ship on the eastern large docks," Tellis continued, "but it was not heavily guarded. We removed those who wandered too far on their own before battling the watch guards keeping the prisoners – most of whom are citizens of Esgaroth, though Nuinethir was among them."
The mention of his foremost Quickstrider banished the king's controlled demeanor. "Is he well?"
Tellis nodded. "He is, though he's incensed that some of our kin were removed to a camp nearby. By his reckoning, Eleros, Arvuil and Unngo still remain in the keep. I tasked him with escorting the lake men to safety. Many were still under the influence of the Easterlings' poison darts."
"Good."
Bard's smile was tight as pressure swelled in his chest to hear the good news. "Thank you, Tellis."
The tall, slender elf nodded again and called on his group to fall in line with the others and they resumed their progress to the Master's Keep.
The lightest of foot among the elves took to the rooftops and assessed the streets ahead. The perimeter of Town Square was crowded with tiny buildings where the offices of the city's delegates stood next to merchants wealthy enough to afford the leases. It was here, the elves above first spotted heavier activity and cast a low hollow whistle. The mild breeze almost took it away but Thranduil heard it and came to halt in a shaded alley, awaiting the scouts' return.
"The high market and commerce offices are being used as holding cells," one of the scouts said as soon as he stood before the king. "The buildings are full and guarded well."
Thranduil gazed down the wide main thoroughfare that led to the nearest docks. "No doubt they chose this location for convenience."
"I think we should assume that they will be expecting us," Bard said. He glanced around pensively. "The patrols we encountered would have had to report to someone by now. If they're not actively searching for us, they may not have the numbers to spare."
"It is more likely we will find a trap awaiting us," Thranduil added.
Bard nodded in allowance of that. "We must free my people if they're going to help us. Tolvaris may be waiting in ambush or strengthening his defenses. We will need better numbers regardless."
"The congested high market ensures we will draw attention and it is far too narrow should we need to retreat. We cannot free your people from there just yet." Tellis replied. "If we seize control of Tolvaris, he can be made to order their release."
Bard scowled. "With the opportunity we would give him to order my people free, he could just as easily order them executed."
Before the advisor could counter, Thranduil interjected. "Such an outcome is not unthinkable and we would find ourselves immediately surrounded. Tolvaris made it plain that elves are highly sought in the slave market. We cannot assume he will forfeit an opportunity to ship our people to his shores for the prestige it would bring him, even if it costs him the rest of his prisoners."
Tellis sighed in annoyance. "I simply do not see how we can free those in the market proper with the numbers we have now. We would be signing their execution order as surely as Tolvaris. We would not reach even half of them before they are slain."
"I have an idea for that." Bard grinned. "There's a smith just around the corner. The furnaces are still hot. There's a tree sap we collect that creates a noxious smoke when exposed to an open flame. It must be heated in a pot first or it's too sticky but once poured onto a fire, it fills the air like fog. It's not poisonous but it makes it difficult to breathe and irritates the eyes, nose and mouth."
"If we start with the holding furthest from the rest," Thranduil said, gazing upward at half a dozen thin ribbons of chimney smoke rising from the street ahead. "We can force them out and deal with the invaders when they emerge."
Bard's grin widened. "And they've already lit their fireplaces for us."
Thranduil considered the strategy at length before nodding.
The bowman turned and hurried toward the corner of their alley, careful to slow and peek around the edge of the building before rushing to the door of the smith just beyond. Elves took up defensive positions around him while he picked the lock. The remainder of Thranduil's group remained hidden between buildings and inside nearby porches.
The lock clicked open and everyone went inside save for six who were left to guard the shop from the shadows.
"Alright," Bard clapped his hands together and gazed around the smith's shelves of supplies. "Let's get to work."
Caireann listened to the man in the tent rummaging through a crate as she feigned sleep on the floor. His booted feet were so close he occasionally stood on her hair and she flattened her mouth to keep from wincing.
"Ah!" The man cried in delight.
Having found whatever he'd come in for, he turned to head out. That was when she chose to act. In between his steps, she slipped her bindings in front of his left foot and the man stumbled, losing his balance. Before he was all the way down, Caireann disentangled her bindings, rose over his back, took his head in her hands and twisted it violently at an unnatural angle. A series of unnatural cracks and pops echoed through her fingers and the man went limp.
Laseviir rose and eyed her work, scowling with disgust at the now dead man.
"Wake the other three," Caireann ordered him. She took a small blade from the man's belt and started slicing through the coils of rope around her ankles. When she was done with that, she carved Laseviir's bonds apart and handed him the knife. He in turn made short work of the rope on her wrists before bending to tend his own ankles.
Their kin, having slept off the poison for longer, awoke able to see well enough to tackle each other's bindings while Caireann and Laseviir hauled the dead man to a corner of the tent and hide him under sacks of goods. There were furs on the walls and Caireann cut several of them down, handing them out before raiding the crates for food that would keep well enough for the journey.
"We have no idea what is outside this tent," Laseviir said.
"Have you not been paying attention?" Caireann pointed above them. "It is daytime yet this tent hasn't felt any direct sunlight all morning. We stand in the shade of a tree, likely a forest. The sounds from the camp all come from these directions." She pivoted, waving her arm out in an arc toward the tent's flap.
She strode to the far corner of the little space and began undoing the ties keeping the woven walls together. In the gap beyond; a sliver of heavy forest, dappled with beams of sunlight pointing west, beckoned to them.
Laseviir grinned. "After you, captain."
Thranduil gazed over the various rooftops where his archers were crouched, waiting for Bard and his team to begin. It was a sound plan to drive every occupant out of the shops with the irritating smoke made of tree sap. He had added his own alterations, of course. Now he hoped nothing unexpected occurred to jeopardize the success of their strategy.
A faint crashing noise drew his attention to the first target and Thranduil looked to see smoke rising from the chimney. Bard was hurrying away and on the building next door, one of his people was poised anxiously.
Sounds of coughing and yelling rose from the shop and a moment later the door swung open. Yellow tinged smoke billowed out and several humans emerged from the cloud. They immediately began running in different directions. Men in black and red armor grabbed some of them but the humans were released a moment later when arrows appeared in their captors' necks.
More surprised voices came from the next shop and smoke rose from its windows. Like the first, the door opened as if bursting with the people spilling through it. And like the first, the armor clad invaders never saw the elves across the street. Woodland style fletching fluttered around them as arrows found their soft marks unerringly. Thranduil smirked. The neck was a difficult place to protect adequately and the gap in the steel collar proved wide enough for the downward arrows. Any who survived the first shot were dealt a second under the jaw when they raised their head to look for the archers. They always looked for the archers.
Shrieks stabbed the air of the once quiet city as bodies dropped to the planks without warning and pooling blood made the wood slick. It was an understandable but unfortunate reaction. The third building was nearly empty of its occupants now but the fourth showed signs of stirring so Thranduil whistled low to his archers and the first two teams vaulted across the buildings to help their kin. The elf waiting with the smoke bomb was signaled to make her drop and the fifth and sixth just after that. The noise of the chaos rose over the city with the noxious smoke.
The street filled with people and the yellowish haze. As everyone tried to clear their eyes or get out of the smoke's range, the elven archers continued to pick off the Easterlings before they could even see their attackers clearly. It seemed an interminable amount of time passed before the smoke cleared and revealed every Easterling lying motionless. Many of the humans had fled to other parts of the city but Thranduil was pleased that this effort had gone well.
"That's all of them in this section," Bard said as he returned to the elvenking's side.
"Good. How many of your people do you think are accounted for?"
"The shops were densely packed and there were six of them… About a hundred – maybe one-twenty. I've spoken with a few of them and they will see to gathering everyone so we can better assess our losses. In the meantime, several who are fit to fight will join our advance to the Keep."
Thranduil nodded. "See that they are armed and prepared for what will come."
Bard nodded and joined his men and Tellis took his place. His features less pinched than they were earlier.
"The barge-man is resourceful. I regret my lack of faith in him."
Thranduil resisted a chuckle. "It is a lesson one must experience personally. When he felled Smaug with a single black arrow; I struggled to believe one human had done so without any aid."
"The corpse in the lake, however, is undeniable proof," Tellis replied.
"Indeed."
The taller elf became somber and he lowered his voice to not be overheard. "Do you believe Seren has reached our kingdom and warned the Prince of the incoming assault?"
Thranduil allowed himself a moment and though uncertainty flickered in his expression as his thoughts betrayed him, the feeling didn't take hold. "She would die trying, that I know without question."
Tellis readjusted his torso's posture haltingly. "That is precisely what I ask. She is only human and the forest is a dark and dangerous place."
"Seren is more than she seems."
"I do not mean to question you, my lord," Tellis pressed somewhat desperately.
"When I am ready, I will explain everything to you," Thranduil said levelly. It was a tone that would brook no argument.
His advisor nodded and strode away to organize his group.
Soon the new additions were accounted for and organized into groups. The party, now consisting of Thranduil's five, Bard's four and Tellis's four and thirteen men, made its way closer to the Keep.
As it had been all morning, there was little resistance. Twice a patrol slowed them but there was nothing to suggest an ambush when they reached the open square surrounding the Master's residence.
The last of the groups Thranduil had organized met up with them at Town Hall's steps just after midday. Nine additional men from Esgaroth were with them, as well as Eleros. The Quickstrider laughed in joy to see his kin and clasped the arms of several before pausing awkwardly before the king.
"My lord," he said somberly and performed a small bow.
Thranduil's eyes brightened at the sight of the elf, and then narrowed. "Eleros," he rumbled smoothly. "I am gratified you were eventually able to join us."
The humans around them registered varying degrees of scandal but Eleros, knowing his king's humor as he did, laughed.
The mischief in Thranduil's gaze and the faint pinch to his cheeks were all that gave him away yet the rest of the elves also smiled or chuckled.
"Forgive me. I was waylaid," Eleros said bashfully. "As were we all, so I'm told." This last was added with a meaningful glint in his steel gray eyes.
Finally Thranduil allowed a small smirk and offered an elvish salute. "It is good to see you."
Eleros nodded. "And what of Nuinethir? Caireann? And the others?"
Tellis spoke up, answering the runner's questions. From there, the discussion immediately turned toward the subject of how to take the Keep. Bard held up a key and suggested the side entrance again and then explained the building's layout. Ultimately the elvenking decided on splitting their forces in half. Any who still possessed armor would enter through the front. The other half would gain clandestine entry through Bard's door. Thranduil declared there would be no prisoners taken; a decree most of the men greeted cheerily.
Once the remaining details were discussed and agreed upon, their group was moving again. Thranduil was among those who would take the service entrance and Bard insisted on leading the group entering through the main door though his armor consisted of just a hardened leather vest.
The two groups parted ways and Thranduil strode toward the side entrance. The little door was easy enough to find, though it was locked. He pulled the key from his sleeve and it swung open silently a moment later.
The air that wafted out was stale and had a sharp tang. They were in a long narrow hallway, barely large enough for two abreast. Water could be heard lapping against a deck and at the end of the hallway, a wide staircase leading up came into view. To the left was a staircase winding down and light shimmered on the walls erratically.
"The Master's private dock," one of the men said disdainfully.
"This way," Thranduil replied and started up the staircase without waiting for acknowledgement. He smirked when he heard one of the humans murmur about his hair being pale enough to light the way.
Hurried footfalls echoed on the stone in the hall outside the infirmary and Ceridwen recognized them. She smiled faintly. Her visitor's haste was understandable.
"My lord, Legolas," she greeted him when he swept into the room. He was dressed in scale leather armor and a full quiver sat on his back, a bow in hand – ready for the coming battle.
The prince immediately looked at Seren's bed. The human was too pale and hadn't roused since exhaustion finally claimed her.
"How is she?" Legolas asked before meeting the healer's gaze. Worry churned in his belly, hot and acidic.
Ceridwen's smile was soft in the face of the prince's concern. "She will recover. She put herself under tremendous strain and her heart had some difficulty maintaining a proper rhythm, but she will be fine. I was able to calm it."
Legolas visibly relaxed at the news and then he noticed the tension in Ceridwen's shoulders and clasped hands. "What else is there?"
Ceridwen inhaled sharply and began to pace. "When she first arrived here, like her brother, she would not respond to healing magic. I used herbs and poultices to improve her health when she needed care but, despite her strange abilities, she seemed utterly human in every way. I thought the magic she was exhibiting was merely what she had been exposed to and was bleeding it off as a strange effect of her non-magic nature."
Legolas watched the other elf cross the long room and stop over her patient's bed.
"This time," Ceridwen continued, "I had no tonic, salve or mixture to return a human heart to a stable pattern. It had been over exerted for too long."
Legolas frowned. "But Seren has been a runner all her life. The journey from Esgaroth shouldn't have been so draining."
Ceridwen agreed with a nod. "Yet her heart stopped. There was nothing I could do but try and mend her myself." The healer gazed down at her hands as if surprised at what they had done. "You can imagine my surprise when she responded to me."
Legolas flattened his lips into a line. He had an almost certain inkling what she would say next.
"She doesn't feel human, Legolas… I felt the essence of Eldar, of fea…"
Ceridwen carefully focused on the prince's face and found guilt there. Her hazel eyes narrowed. "You might have mentioned this. As a healer, I should be privy to every detail."
"The king is not sure what she is or how she came to be. He didn't wish to spread false information." A faint smile graced Legolas's features. "There are many mysteries surrounding Seren."
"In the future, I must insist you not keep even a wild conjecture about a potential patient from me."
Legolas frowned but with sympathy. "I cannot promise that."
Ceridwen sighed unhappily but didn't push the matter. "How long do we have before the Easterlings arrive?"
The mention of the approaching army soured the mood considerably. "They will be here by sunset. Our southern scouts reported back an hour ago. The enemy is close now." He looked over at Seren. "I will send a guard contingent for your ward. Keep her safe."
The healer nodded and he turned to leave. "There are some last minute preparations I must see to."
He cast one more glance at Seren.
"As soon as she wakes, I'll send word," Ceridwen promised.
She watched him go and stared into the empty space he'd left for a time. A soft swell of light, shifting silver white and blue in color, broke her reverie; but when she turned around, nothing seemed out of place.