The plot thickens and please review!
Chapter 54: Band of brothers
Aurelan walked over to her waiting brothers with much on her mind. She acted calm and assured in front of the king and queen, but even though she tried to deny it, meeting them rattled her nerves—especially meeting the queen.
What does she mean by wanting to meet me? she asked herself. So what if I'm a woman in disguise? There must be some other reason, something other than our being rangers even, but what?
In truth, she wasn't a ranger, not yet. Her brothers were trained as rangers, while she was left at age eight on the outskirts of Rohan with an embittered aunt who taught her manners, music, and how to address her betters, "even though you'll find none here in this forsaken waste," she used to say. Aurelan remembered her excitement when her parents said that they were leaving their village near Rohan to make a better life for their family in Rhun, a life that a kind but naïve ancestor destroyed when he was accused of trying to kill a king long ago. But the same tragedy was also their salvation when Ored and his family were banished from their homeland and so escaped Smaug's destruction of their part of the world.
"What did she want with you, Aurie?" Tyree asked in a low voice. He and his younger brother Orel watched the archers prepare for their next trial. To advance, archers first had to shoot into the hollow necks of gourds placed 40 feet away. Those who passed that test needed to shoot one arrow out of five through a ring the circumference of a man's forefinger touching his thumb at 20 yards. Groans and curses resounded as archer after archer was eliminated. Several elves remained for the final rounds when Bard stepped up. He shot with ease into the gourd and then aimed with more care for the ring. The arrow flew through without even touching the inside.
"She knows I'm a woman," she said, "and she wants to know why I'm hiding. I told her the truth though nothing about us."
Tyree whistled through his teeth as he thought of what to do. To stay for the finals was impossible even though he had accepted Grace's invitation. He cursed his ancestor who ruined his family's reputation and future.
Aurie deserves better than wandering the wild, he thought angrily, never knowing when she will eat, if she will eat, and what day will be her last. Then he took a deep breath to clear his bitter thoughts and turned to watch his beloved sister and reason for living take her place.
Aurelan stood tall and took a deep breath while she tried to calm down. She slowly picked up her bow and shot her arrows into the gourd and then turned to shoot through the ring. A slight breeze pushed the ring at the last second, and her arrow missed by the width of a grass blade. Turning to face her brothers, she huffed, and Tyree motioned with his hands for her to relax. He was the rock she relied on and she nodded to him and smiled. She so wanted a life of adventure, to be a ranger though she was but 19 seasons old. Tyree refused at first but after their aunt died when Aurelan was 15 seasons she traveled with them, learning how to hunt, fish, shoot, and—most importantly—stay alive. She knew that life is the wild was not an easy one, but she did not realize how much she would have to endure from uncouth and sometimes violent men. It was worse than dealing with orcs; those at least she could kill with impunity.
Her initial enthusiasm at a life free from women's duties was replaced gradually by rage at the injustices women faced. The one joy of her life was the love and support of her brothers, who took special care of her while they pushed her to be her best. Even though these games were the last place they wanted to be, they were willing to risk the danger of discovery for her sake.
Carefully exhaling, she took her place again and looked around at the trees and the clouds. Factoring in the breeze this time, she shot through the ring, and then turned and grinned at her brothers.
"Easy does it, Aurie," Tyree said beaming, "well done." Orel walked up and squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "Aye, sis," he said, "da and mum would have been proud to see this moment."
They all fell silent remembering their loving parents, who died after a band of orcs raided their newly created village. The stockade wall was not yet finished, and the orcs burned the thatch-roofed huts in broad daylight in retaliation for some men killing a group of scouts the week before. The brothers had just come back with needed supplies and heard the screams. Racing on their horses, they saw their father hoist little Aurelan out of the open window. She screamed for her mother, but her father, his face steaked with soot, held her out to Orel, who was only 14 seasons, and then turned to help his wife through the window where Tyree, only two seasons older, waited to take her. Before he could take her hand though, the floor burned through, and their parents fell into the root cellar with the flaming roof on top of them. Tyree and Orel tried to reach them, but they were already gone, and they could not fight the orcs without risking Aurelan, so they turned and fled.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she quickly choked them back and tried to smile. She was not about to act the emotional woman now. She was a ranger.
"Aye, Orel," she said firmly, "that they would."
Bard looked through the lists at those who advanced and he saw that besides himself only a few elves and an Aurelan of Dale survived the round.
"Aurelan of Dale?" Bard muttered. He turned to see the rangers walking away. "One of them must be Aurelan," and he called out for Aurelan. All three froze, and Orel turned around and bowed while the others disappeared into the crowd.
"Yes, my lord?" he asked.
"Are you Aurelan of Dale?" Bard asked.
"My mother picked the name, milord, so I suppose one of us needs to own to it," Orel said quickly with a smile.
Bard laughed and held out his hand, and Orel slowly reached out his hand as though he was expecting a trick.
"Not as lord, but as one archer to another, I congratulate you and wish you well tomorrow," Bard said as he shook his hand strongly.
Orel looked into Bard's face intently, trying to make out his character. Bard smiled widely, but Orel was slow to return it.
"Aye, and you also, my lord, all best wishes," he said finally. Then he shook his head slightly.
"Forgive me, my lord," he said, "but I've never met a lord who wishes others well at his own expense."
Bard laughed. "I don't intend to lose, but if I do, I would rather lose to you, a man from my own city, than to one of the elves. I have a bet with Prince Legolas that I'd like to win."
Orel looked slightly unnerved. "Where we come from there isn't this familiarity between lords and their subjects," he said.
Bard looked puzzled. "But don't your ancestors come from Dale?"
Orel mumbled something, but before Bard could question him further, a group of archers heading for the obstacle course came their way, and Orel made his escape and seemed to disappear before his eyes.
As he hurried away, he thought about what he saw in Lord Bard's face and eyes. He seemed an honorable man. In fact, he seemed friendly and kind and not at all self-important, but Orel was not sure that would be to their advantage if they were found out. All of them, the elves, the dwarves, and now Lord Bard and the people of Dale, seemed different from others he, Tyree, and Aurelan had met in their travels. To Orel they all seemed more like one large family than separate kingdoms led by arrogant kings playing gods. On the other hand was the Master of Lake-town. Now there was a piece of work! But these others … it just seemed too good to be true. Orel hid himself behind a hedge as he saw King Thorin and Queen Grace—now wearing a lovely light gown of lilac silk—walk up to Lord Bard. Then he saw Prince Legolas join them with a wide smile. They looked delighted to see each other, even though they were together not long ago. Very strange, Orel thought. He watched carefully to see if there was any calculation behind their eyes, any ulterior motive that betrayed political necessity or personal advantage. His eyes grew large when he realized that they were exactly as they appeared.
Tyree and Aurelan won't believe it, he thought as he watched four best friends enjoy each other's company. King Thorin burst out laughing at a comment by Prince Legolas, and the rest joined in. With much merriment, the group broke up, and Orel watched carefully to see if anything false would show—a look of disdain or a lip curling with contempt as the others' backs were turned—but instead King Thorin and Queen Grace watched their friends leave with broad smiles on their faces.
"Come on Legolas," Bard said as he grabbed the elf prince's upper arm, "I'm famished. Aren't you at all hungry?"
Orel listened to the elf reply that he had eaten lembas bread that morning, and he had to chuckle at Lord Bard's response.
"Oh stuff it, Legolas," he said with friendly exasperation, "it's not food if it comes in small squares that taste like sawdust."
Aye, Orel thought, this is like paradise, and now we've come home, but will we be allowed to stay or will they kill us as royal decree demands?
