North of Ash Mountains. July 1, SA 722
GRIMWINE sat by the fire next to his brother at the entrance of the cave, facing the barren mountain range. The ashen peaks were hidden behind the veil of mists as the rain poured in torrents. The view was awe-inspiring, desolate, and dreary. Grimwine shivered at the memory of the dark land behind those Ash Mountains.
The Northman glanced at Kemik who sat down next to Shoddy. The Easterling had gone deeper into the cave with his men to do their evening prayers although they weren't sure how late in the day it was. Thick clouds covered the sky and the treacherous weather made it impossible to tell the time.
"So, Kemik, where exactly are we going? I thought we were traveling east to meet your master?" Grimwine asked.
Dernwulf and Shoddy's men, along with Kemik and his nine remaining Easterlings, had left the dark land for near three weeks. Dernwulf took Shoddy's men and headed north toward the Greenwood while he and his brother traveled east with Kemik and his men under the feet of the Ash Mountains. But a week ago, Kemik changed direction north, pulling away from the shadows of the mountains.
"You been there, friend." Kemik smiled, all friendly and warm as he bit into a piece of fire-roasted venison. "Dernwulf said you used to bring the slaves to the temple there."
"Impossible!" Shoddy, who was tearing into his piece of venison, glared at Kemik. "If that's where we are going, why did we separate? My men could have helped with the cart. And why the hell are we dragging that damn thing all the way down to the plains? That blasted piece of dung is going to kill us, never mind that it is delaying us." Shoddy threw down the bones in his hand. "We would already be there if we didn't have to find a level surface for the cart to pass. You think once we pass this hellish mountain area, everything will be fine and shiny. Well, Master Eastman, in this weather, it's gonna be all muddy and hell, pure sinkholes for those wheels." Shoddy's voice rang in the walls of the cave.
When Grimwine noticed all the attention was focused on Shoddy, he quietly slipped the chunk of venison he was pretending to eat into his pocket.
"Why don't we wake the poor sap and tie him to a horse or something? That would make it easier for everyone." Shoddy banged his boots and cape, covered in mud, on the walls of the cave, grumbling all the while.
Kemik had been pushing them to ride out even when the drizzle turned windy and fierce. But the rough and narrow passageways of the mountain range were treacherous to travel with a cart, and where the ground was packed earth, it was saturated with water. For the past few days, it rained on and off. Wherever the ground was soft, the wheels of the cart got stuck in the mud. This afternoon, they spent most of it pulling and pushing the cart out of the mud in the rough terrain. If it wasn't for that, they would still be traveling in this weather.
Grimwine looked down at the cart standing with their horses under the eaves of the scan trees in this area. Minstrel lay wrapped under a pile of animal skins to keep him dry.
When they found a wide opening on a stone ridge about six feet above the ground from where the cart stood, they stopped to dry themselves and rest for the remaining day.
"I could take him with me," Grimwine offered. It would be rough for the elf to travel tied up on a horse, but it could be a better opportunity for Minstrel to escape. The cart was not only driven by two Easterlings during the day, but when it was possible, Kemik's men slept surrounding the cart. It was only when they were busy setting up the camp or early mornings when they decamped that Grimwine could find a moment to visit the elf in private. The elf was recovering rapidly despite the many days he spent sleeping.
"You won't even let us carry our stuff in the cart," Shoddy went on. "The whole cart is for that damn elf and his things."
Kemik would not let anyone touch any of Minstrel's things which he kept in a pouch next to the sleeping elf. He only took away Minstrel's sword and the unstrung bow which the Easterling carried tied on the saddle of his horse. Shoddy got up and stomped the earth, scraping the mud off his boots.
"What's so special about him? Why are we going through this hell for one elf?"
"Master's orders."
"Maybe he doesn't realize the weather we are under," Grimwine said. Of what he had seen of Kemik, the Easterling was reasonable. Except for urging them on to travel in this damnable weather, Kemik tried to accommodate him and his brother.
"Friend, you do not know my master. He knows everything. He sees, and he hears." Kemik looked up at the gray sky. "Perhaps not in this weather." The man from the east let out a sigh. "Even if I wish to wake the elf, I do not know how to spring him. I will offer talk to my master, but it will have to wait until the rain completes."
"Why can't you talk to him now? I thought all you need is a fire?" Grimwine asked.
"I know not, friend. Too high water around and offering talk is hard." Kemik looked up at the sky again. "But, it looks like after tonight, the weather will calm." Kemik pointed north. The clouds were dissipating, moving steadily east. "Once we feel the grass under our feet in the plains below the mountains, we should have gooder weather. Yes?" Kemik smiled, unfazed by Shoddy's loud ranting.
"Let's see if you are smiling when that damn thing sinks into the ground there." Shoddy scoffed, then took his bedroll further inside the cave.
Grimwine decided, then, that it must be tonight.
When the darkness descended, the winds picked up, howling and rattling the trees. Kemik handed out the shifts for the night watch. The Easterling always had a pair of guards rather than one. And although it took a while, Kemik now trusted him and his brother enough to include them in the guard duty.
"I'll take the first watch," Grimwine said, noticing how tired everyone was. The Easterling under Kemik who was chosen for the first watch with Grimwine looked ready to drop.
"Aren't you tired, Wino?" Shoddy, who was half dozing on his bedroll, got up. "I'll take the first watch. You go get some shut-eye."
"No, brother. You sleep. I am not yet ready for bed. I rather take the shift now while I am awake than later." Grimwine smiled at Kemik. "My hope is that in weather like this, it is least likely that something bad will happen."
"If you not dislike, I have no question, friend," Kemik said. "My men and I both starved for sleep. Rain is tiring, yes?"
The last gray light of the day dimmed, and everyone except the two doing the first watch went to sleep.
As Grimwine expected, the other guard dozed off soon after the wind settled down and the rain turned into a soft mist. Combined with the days spent traveling in the rain along with the trouble with the mud, they were all exhausted. When the campfire softened into a flicker, the only light in the dark, and the sound of snoring the only sound inside the cave, Grimwine rose like a shadow.
His heart was the hooves of running horses thundering in his breast. The sound of it was deafening, as if it could shake the very walls of the cave. Grimwine glanced at his brother who slept further in, near Kemik. If this went wrong, it was not his life alone that he was risking. It was the only thing that had prevented him from acting earlier, that and the condition of the elf. But a night like this was the best night to do it if he were to do it at all.
I'm sorry, Shoddy.
Grimwine turned away, pressing his lips into a thin line.
We always pay back our debts. It was Shoddy who taught him that, at least, his brother before he became a mercenary, before he lost his wife and their home.
Grimwine crouched low to the ground as he passed Shoddy and neared Kemik. Unlike his brother who was snoring loudly, Kemik slept like a dead man, silent and unmoving, his hands gathered together on his chest. There was sheathed dagger buried under the Easterling's hands. And under one shoulder lay Kemik's sword.
The Northman swallowed, eyeing the spot by the leather bag near Kemik's head. Next to it lay the long sword and bow that Grimwine was looking for. The elf was unwilling to leave without them. Bejeweled with gold and with stones red as blood, the likes of which Grimwine had never seen, the beautifully crafted scabbard glittered in the firelight.
Grimwine reached for the sword when Kemik moved. The Northman froze where he stood.
Kemik mumbled beneath his breath, then let out a sigh. A shadow cast by the campfire danced on the walls, a strange eerie shape.
A stray wind screeched into the cave entrance, then flew away. A murky silence rained down on the sleepers, occasionally broken by the snoring and the crackle of the burning wood.
Holding his breath, Grimwine picked up the sword and the bow and crept out of the cave. He pulled his hood over his head, then jumped down into the misty darkness. The wet earth muffled the sound of his fall even as he stopped again to listen to the movements above. When he was satisfied that no one stirred, Grimwine took a step.
A wind screamed again. Grimwine turned around when he felt something move. Before he could turn fully, the Northman was thrown against a stone wall behind him. A powerful arm wrapped around his neck and clamped around his mouth. A chill spread through Grimwine as his muscles froze as something cold and sharp pressed against his neck.
Eastern edge of Greenwood Forest. July 1, SA 722
THRANDUIL's legs were stiff from the running and jumping almost nonstop for two full days, but if those scouts were not stopping, neither was he. Ahead of him, Eryn and the Silvan scout slowed as the trees thinned around them, making it difficult to jump from tree to tree.
Eryn looked back, then pointed downward before dropping to the ground, followed by the scout from Amon-thon.
Expanding his chest to take in more air, Thranduil jumped onto the tree they were on, then dropped next to Eryn.
But the moment his feet touched the earth, the wind rustled among the leaves of the surrounding trees.
"Stop," he hissed to Eryn and the other scout when they turned to step out of the line of the trees. Both scouts froze where they stood and turned back to Thranduil.
"Take cover." Thranduil commanded under his breath, sliding his hand to the hilt of his sword.
The Silvan scout hesitated, but Eryn grabbed the scout and jumped behind a tree.
Just then, behind him came five hunters from Amon-thon, followed by Aron, Durion, Galion and one of the three Sindarin warriors Durion sent out to escort Lord Istuion to the edge of the forest. After leaving Istuion, the three warriors were on their way back to Amon-thon when they said they heard Istuion's horn scream in the night.
One gesture from Thranduil, and all of them took cover behind the trees.
"What do we have?" Durion asked as he and Aron moved next to Thranduil.
"I sense three, no, four people. Behind that group of maple trees." Thranduil pointed to his right.
Durion took a whiff of the air. "Orcs? I smell blood in the air."
"Not sure. But at least two of them are heavily armed. It won't hurt to be cautious." Thranduil gestured to the Silvan hunters to stay and ready their bows. Then, directed Durion and Aron to his left while he and the other Sindarin warrior took the right.
Galion moved next to Thranduil, but Sinda held the young Green Elf back.
"Stay here with the archers. At least, until we are sure what we are facing."
Galion's shoulders sagged, but he stepped back.
Four of them spread out, weaving a tight net around the group of maple trees when, from one of the trees, a bird twittered.
Thranduil relaxed.
From the other side, Durion twittered back. A warrior dropped down from the tree, dressed in the green and silver, the color of House Oropher.
Durion stepped out and greeted the warrior.
"What happened here?" Thranduil asked. "Where are others?"
"Others?" The warrior looked lost. "It was only Amruchil and I. We found Lord Istuion's captain. He is badly injured."
When Thranduil and others went behind the trees, they found the captain and two young Silvan youths. The captain was stable, but barely. If there was no one to patch him up, he would not have made it. Fortunately, the two youths with him were battered but had no serious wounds, although they looked quite shaken and pale.
"Puck, Nell, weren't you two with Tinuiel?" Thranduil frowned.
Nell burst into tears upon seeing Thranduil.
Aron pulled Thranduil away. "You are frightening them."
"What? I was just asking them a question."
"Not with that look on your face. Not many people could handle that."
"What look?"
"That 'you better tell me now or I'll burn you to hell' look." Durion pushed Thranduil to the captain.
Sinda grimaced, but he moved away from the youngsters and turned to the captain.
"Tell me what happened here, captain."
"It was the Orcs," the captain said, his voice feeble and strained. "When we got to the end of the treeline, it was pouring rain. It was just three of us and we were exhausted. Lord Istuion wanted to catch up to his granddaughter, if possible, so we have been rushing through the rain. But I have been here near six centuries and we never had Orcs coming down this far from the Grey Mountains. The Dwarves at Iron Hills and Erebor usually kept them checked." The captain's voice broke, and he turned away."
Thranduil waited, looking up at the sky that seemed to clear now. The clouds were moving east. But they were losing daylight.
"They were supposed to camp just above the waterfall and wait for us. The way down to Celduin is steep from where the waterfall is. It is dangerous in bad weather, so you have to go around." Captain's voice cracked and shook. Words came slowly, even rambling.
Thranduil raked his head, biting down the urge to shout. Why can't he just get to the point? But Thranduil did not say. As irked as he was, Thranduil knew it was difficult for the captain who had been at Lord Istuion's side for a long time.
"When we reached the marshes, it was already dark. We had our lights, but it was difficult to see in the rain. We didn't hear or smell them. The wind was so loud, and the rain blinded us. We didn't notice the Orcs until we were practically on top of the campsite. It was as if they were waiting for us."
"What happened to Lord Istuion?" Thranduil could not wait any longer.
The captain's face contorted, but he took in a breath and erased emotion from his face. "I don't know what happened to the others, but the Orcs had these three youths. Those two," he nodded toward the Silvan youngsters. "And Lady Tinuiel. Lord Istuion cut down the Orcs closest to the children, then thrust them to me, shouting to take them away. I didn't want to leave him, but I couldn't leave the children. I tried to get them to the trees, into the forest…" the captain shook his head. "There were too many. They came after us. Before we reached the forest, one of them grabbed the Silvan girl, and Lady Tinuiel grabbed onto her. I was overwhelmed on all sides. I couldn't stop them as one of them grabbed her. That is when one of the Orcs found my weak side, and another's ax landed on me. They would have finished me off when Lord Istuion blasted his horn, startling them, and someone answered back." The captain coughed. Eryn gave him a potion from her bag.
"We heard it," The warrior who had remained with the captain and the youngsters said. "We were about 2 leagues away. We knew it was too much distance to cover in the dark…that we may not be able to help them, so we sent one back to Amon-thon. Amruchil and I returned here, but it was deep into the night and the rain was relentless… we were not fast enough. We arrived as the dawn arrived yesterday and found the captain and those two." He pointed to the Silvan youths. "Those youngsters dragged the captain into the forest and hid, they said."
"Where's Amruchil?" Durion asked.
"He went to check the boat and to see what happened to others…to Lord Istuion and his family."
"And?" Thranduil clenched his fists.
"He did not return. I didn't want to leave these three undefended, but if no one arrived today, I was going to go look."
"You stay. My father is gathering more warriors and is on his way," Thranduil said. He nodded to the other Sindarin warrior to stay with them. "Eryn, why don't you stay and see what you can do for the captain. You, too, Galion."
"I checked the bandages." Eryn got up from the captain's side. "Your warrior did a good job patching him up. I go with you. More people may need help."
"It's Orcs." Thranduil hesitated. "They can be very…messy."
"I lived through the War of Wrath," Eryn said. "I've seen plenty of 'messy.'"
"I'm going with you, too." Galion looked up, fierce and grim.
If possible, Thranduil wanted to spare Galion, especially, of what they might possibly find. The first encounters with the Orcs were brutal for most people, and he was certain Galion still remembered the details of his own first encounter.
Thranduil had not wanted Galion to join in the search of Lord Istuion. But Galion refused to be left behind. And having received the urgent message in the middle of the night, there was not much time to prepare or gather trained warriors. Except for the handful of the warriors who still guarded the people, most of the Sindar had given up arms at Greenwood. And his father and people were in the mountain city for the festivities.
As for the Silvans, according to Galion, very few of them ever had actual encounters with the Orcs. That was understandable. The Dark Lord's creatures stayed out of the forest, and the Silvans rarely ventured outside the boundary of the vast Greenwood forest.
When they left the line of trees, a roar of water filled the air. Ahead, a wide-open space spread out before them, almost a mile wide of marshes and pools flanking both sides of what had been a narrow river. And along with the sound of rushing water was a scent of nameless flowers growing with wild abandon, mingled with wet earth. All kinds of flowers bloomed among the grasses as tall as the Silvans. And among the scent, there was something foul in the air.
Except for the sound of water and the wind, it was strangely silent. Thranduil surveyed the area. Once they left the eaves of the forest, there were no trees near the wide area of the marshes.
"String your bows. Be prepared to engage," Thranduil said, looking back at the Silvans. He could feel their unease at having to leave the comfort of the trees.
"This used to be a serene place when I was here last," Eryn said. "The river has grown in size and sound."
After several days of pouring rain, the river had swollen and once it left the marshes, the river churned through a narrow channel before it disappeared from the view.
"All this rain-soaked grass and ground will make it harder for us to track," Durion said, as they headed toward the waterfall. "You hear that roar? That is the last waterfall before this river reaches River Celduin. The boat should be anchored just below it. If it is still there."
When they neared the waterfall, Thranduil tensed. Mixed with the scent of wildflowers was a heavy odor of metallic tang.
"Galion, with me." Thranduil laid a hand over Galion's shoulder. He could feel the tenseness of young elf's muscles underneath his leather jerkin.
When they came upon the remnants of the campsite, all halted where they stood, growing roots. No one could say anything. There was no explanation or evidence needed of Orc's presence here. Someone gasped and called out to the Lady of the Stars.
A sound of gagging and retching came from behind him. Thranduil watched, took in every detail, his jaw firmly locked, his hands clutched tightly to prevent them from shaking. When reason returned, Thranduil reached out to Galion and turned him aside. The young Green Elf's eyes were rimmed red. But he did not cry nor vomited like other Silvans.
They took down the mangled and tortured bodies from where they were hung, on iron spikes driven into the wet ground. The moaning wind picked up as the pallid daylight waned when a lone Sindarin warrior walked up from the steep hills on the side of the river. He was carrying a large bundle on his shoulder.
"Amruchil, where…." Thranduil could not continue. The old Sindarin warrior dropped the leather armor on the ground. In it were broken bows, daggers, ripped armor pieces, the things you would gather from the dead to identify the fallen, reminders of who they once were. These were things the warriors gathered to return to their families.
Amruchil's face broke as his knees hit the mud. "It was all I could do. To gather what remained of them." He hung his head, his shoulders shaking.
Thranduil's heart pounded as his left arm seized with pain. He ignored it and surveyed the items fallen on the ground. None of them looked familiar.
"Are all of them…lost?" Thranduil wondered at how calm his voice was.
Amruchil shook his head. "The lady and the babe, the lieutenant leading the group and his wife, I didn't see."
"Lord Istuion or his granddaughter?"
Amruchil shook his head. "Did not see him or her among the dead."
"Lord Rhingil?" One of the Silvans asked.
"I am sorry. I almost didn't recognize him." Amruchil took out a necklace of beads and a bejeweled dagger. The dagger was Sindarin in make. The hunters wailed.
Thranduil turned to Durion.
"Lord Laegir's son. Our lady's husband," Durion said, his voice colorless, cracking at the edges.
"I thought we left all these," Amruchil said, his voice shaking. "I thought we left all the violence and grief back at Beleriand. I had hoped we would have peace."
Thranduil clenched his teeth. This was not the time for grief.
"If you didn't see the bodies, are you saying they are taken?"
"By the light of Our Lady, Thranduil. Let him be. Give him a moment," Durion said.
The pain in his arm spiked. "If any of them survived, and they are taken, every minute we delay will cost their lives." Thranduil ground his teeth to calm himself. "If any of them survived, we must find them now. Do you understand me?"
Amruchil looked up, his eyes rimmed red and puffy. He squared his shoulders and got up.
"They took the boat."
"Come again?" Thranduil could not believe it.
"They took the prisoners on it. I didn't see the boat. The fog covered most of the river when I was there. And…while I stood by the bank, through the fog, I heard the Orc horn. They were laughing, shouting that they have the prisoners." Amruchil's face crumbled. "And… there was the wailing of the baby."
"They didn't kill the baby?" Thranduil frowned. Orcs usually killed the weakest first, as they were a hindrance to them.
"Demons! Cursed creatures of the dark!" Durion kicked something on the ground. "How could they take the boat?" Durion turned to Amruchil. "They don't even know how to sail, never mind they hate the water."
"They don't need to know," Amruchil said. "The river has swollen into fury. You only need to be on top of it for it to carry you down."
"This was planned," Thranduil said.
Both Durion and Amruchil turned to him, their eyes unbelieving.
Thranduil went over to the edge of the waterfall. They were quite high up, perhaps four or five stories. The water roared, dark and furious, writhing in agony as it spewed down and disappeared among the thick layers of fog.
Thranduil looked up at the sky. It was gray slate, and whatever daylight that lingered was failing rapidly.
"How far behind the Orcs are we, you think?" Thranduil asked.
"Two full days, at least. But we can't help that," said Amruchil. "The river is usually not like this. It is usually a gentle fall, although steep. There is a path next to where the water falls, but it is impassible now because of the rain and the bloating of the water. The river is full of rocks and is quite dangerous until it reaches Celduin. I am afraid we must go around. It is little more than a league, but impossible to navigate in the dark. It is rough ground." Amruchil pointed to where he came from.
"There is a gentler way, but it is farther," Galion, who had remained close to Thranduil, said. "We could use it even if we lose daylight. But it would take half the night to get through it."
Thranduil pointed to the rope Galion carried. When the youth handed it over, he wrapped it around his sword and bow.
From the forest, a trumpet sounded just then.
Durion turned to the forest. "That's your father. It is unfortunate, but we'll have to wait. We are losing daylight and Amruchil is right. We should not risk any more of our people by trying to get down there in the dark of the night. Your father should be here within a few hours. When he arrives, we'll plan out how we will catch up with those demons."
Eryn stepped next to Amruchil to look him over, but the warrior shook his head.
Thranduil tied the sword and the bow and secured them tightly to his back. With his own ropes, Thranduil wound them around the arrows and his quiver. He will lose some of them, but that could not be helped.
"Tell my father this was planned. Look for my marks, Durion."
"What?" Durion frowned.
Aron, who was assisting with the gathering of the dead, looked up and met his eyes.
"No, Thranduil!" Aron shouted as he got up and ran toward him. "Stop him!"
Thranduil took to a run and jumped into the roaring water.