Chapter 8
When darkness finally came, Aragorn rose immediately. The past hours had been a real torture for the ranger since he knew that his friend was in the building but could not help him for the time being.
The ranger tied his horse to a tree and moved quietly towards the old building. His heart raced at the thought that he did not know what to expect. If possible, the man wanted to avoid a fight.
The closer he came, the more voices were heard. They were loud and boisterous. Carefully, the man looked around the corner and then froze. Humans! A group of about eight men sat at a table in the lobby and laughed. About half of them were already so drunk that they lay on the table half asleep.
Aragorn rolled his eyes. Why had this picture become normal in the meantime? But he did not want to complain about it. It would be easier to get past them that way.
Suddenly something caught his eye, which made the fear in his heart grow bigger. Two shiny knives lay on the table. Elven blades. Legolas! "To the death of another elf!", cried one of the men, and the others cheered loudly.
The ranger's heart contracted in agony, pain, and grief. The words were incomprehensible to him. The death of another elf?! Legolas could not be dead! He simply could not be!
A small, hopeful voice in his head whispered that maybe they meant another elf, but 1. that would be terrible too and 2. the beautiful blades on the table spoke a clear language.
At this moment the human became really angry. What had they done to the prince? What kind of problem did these people have with innocent beings? Now Aragorn did not care about the fight. Angry, but still quiet, he entered the hall and hid in the shadows. As quietly as possible the ranger drew his sword and took one more deep breath before he attacked.
The surprised men cried out and still tried to draw their swords, but by this time the ranger had already brought two down. The drunken men were not a big problem because they did not wake up at all or only made strange noises. The heir to the throne's sword hit that of another man, but it was not really an obstacle.
Now there was only a stocky man with a sly sparkle in his eyes. Something told Aragorn that this was the leader. "Where is he?", the ranger hissed angrily, but the man in front of him only laughed coldly in response. The ranger's heart beat faster and faster and he could barely suppress the rising panic.
"He's dead, I guess." The rage grew, along with the pain. No! It was not possible! "I said, where is he?!" Again, the man laughed and tried to attack Aragorn, but he easily knocked the sword from his hand, which fell to the ground with a loud clang.
"What does a man want with a half-dead elf?", the man asked with a cruel grin. What had they done to Legolas? The pain in his heart became more and more intense. What would he do if the elf was no longer alive?
The ranger pressed the sword to the throat of the man. "I want to know where he is at last!" The man laughed, but still nodded with a cruel grin.
With a fast-beating heart and shaking hands, the man followed the strange man. What would he do if it was true? If Legolas was really no longer with him? Everything in Aragorn cried out at that thought. This was not to be! The beautiful warrior simply had to live! He could not be dead!
They climbed down several steps into the cellar. Immediately the ranger became sick. It smelled of decay and death. Their footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor and otherwise, there was no sound to be heard. "Key," hissed the ranger as they stood in front of an empty cell and the strange man handed it to him.
Immediately the heir to the throne of Gondor pushed him inside and locked the door. "That will not do you much good anymore, human. He is dead." But Aragorn did not believe a word of this man. He would not believe him. "I will see that for myself."