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- S
- Chapter 48 -
The young man sat back in his seat, clearly perturbed. He ran a hand over his short, ragged beard and his dull brown eyes stared out the window of the small house.
"This is ill news you bring me," he said quietly, not bothering to look at the elf across from him.
Legolas shifted in his seat, feeling annoyed. Whatever news the Woodmen had hoped the Prince of the Woodland Realm was going to give him was clearly not this.
"The spiders are spawning in Dol Guldur, it is only natural they would adapt as they have," Legolas said heavily. His talk with Chief Hartkald of the Woodmen had not gone as planned, and he already lingered here hours longer than he desired.
The small house they sat in was made of wood, and though it was finely crafted there was a musty smell that lingered in the air. Outside, the small village was alive with activity though many of the Woodmen had stopped their activities to watch the two elves approach, wary of what news they might have. For many years the elves and Woodmen had been allies, assisting each other with the destruction of all evil things that lurked under the boughs of the trees they called home.
But now, after the sudden death of the old village Chief one year ago, Legolas looked at the former Chief's son with a frown. He was young, too young, to be taking up such a position and far to inexperienced. He might have been taught much by his father before his unexpected passing, but the man was only in his mid twenties and still had much to learn. Legolas was usually the one who traveled into the southern regions of Mirkwood to hold council with the Chief, and for thousands of years he'd done so without complaint. Today however, was different for whatever reason. Legolas was on edge and short tempered, and constantly the thread in the back of his mind attempted to snag his attention. It was not something he could concentrate on now and for the last few days he'd trained himself to silence the wavering strands, and acted like they were simply not there. The tasks set before him were important and demanded his full attention; he could not afford any distractions.
"We have lost three of our guards to them over the last month," the man said, his rough voice quaking with anger. His hatred of the spiders clear as daylight upon his face. "Their children will now grow up without fathers."
"You have my sympathies," Legolas said automatically. "However, if the spiders are becoming more cunning, extra precaution is needed. We destroyed the nests to the east of you, but more will come."
"We have talked about placing torches along our borders and keeping them lit. The spiders do not like the fires," the Chief said thoughtfully.
"A sound idea," agreed Legolas. "However they would need constant tending to, and your borders are vast considering you are a small people. Do you have the manpower for such a task?"
The man's eyes flicked to the elf with a bit of annoyance by the blunt words, but then shook his head. "It was an idea a new guard mentioned not four weeks ago."
Legolas set his jaw. A 'new' guard told him this person was young and though full of ideas, it was not a well thought out plan. Legolas did not need the Chief to tell him they lacked the manpower to keep the torches ablaze along their borders, he could see that for himself easily.
"I would gather the elder members of both villages together and seek their advice, then formulate a plan of action. They have lived through spider attacks for many years and your villages' defense skills have always been exceptional."
"We received word of the battle at the gates of Erebor," he said, and Legolas frowned at the sudden change of topic. "You have my sympathies as well for you own losses."
"I thank you, but also encourage you to heed my warnings. The spiders are more cunning and braver than before, they are adapting to our ways of fighting. It would be wise to adapt new training techniques among your men."
"I heed your warning," the Chief said unhappily. "I only wish we did not have such creatures lurking under our trees."
Legolas frowned again. "As do I."
Without another word, Legolas rose and Chief Hartkald took that as a sign their meeting was over. Outside, the weather was moving in and Legolas clipped his traveling cloak around his shoulders just as the first rumble of thunder came in from the west.
Sidhel was waiting for him outside the house, holding the reins of both their horses, his eyes also looking skyward with a frown. They would not be able to outrun the storm, the both of them knew that.
Legolas caught his guard's questioning look when his eyes flickered to Chief Hartkald, who walked next to the Prince, but said nothing as the two approached.
"I thank you for your message and your council," Hartkald said as Legolas took the reins of his horse and flicked them over the grey's slender ears.
"You are most welcome," Legolas said, attempting to keep the annoyance from his voice. He was anxious to be gone from the Woodmens' settlement, and apparently so was Sidhel for he was already mounting his horse. Legolas did not bother to correct the guard, for it was appropriate to wait for the commanding officer to mount first.
"Safe travels, and give King Thranduil my thanks," Harkald said, but Legolas only raised a hand in farewell as he settled into the saddle.
Turning their horses, they rode out of the small village, heading towards the trail that would take them north and back to the Woodland Realm. They would meet up with the remaining guards that traveled with them a couple of hours later near the northern settlement just south of the Old Forest Road. He did not like traveling this far south in Mirkwood, and he especially did not like traveling along the Old Forest Road.
Sidhel rode next to him and said nothing until they were clear from the boundaries of the southern settlement before speaking quietly.
"You do not look happy with your meeting," the guard said, shooting a look into the trees just to their left to avoid the annoyed look Legolas shot him.
"He is young and not very experienced," replied the Prince just as quietly.
"He has only just taken over as Chieftain," Sidhel reminded him. "He did not have much choice either."
Legolas sighed through his nose. "I know. But he is a bit overconfident in certain areas."
"It is not your job to correct him."
"I am aware. I doubt he will heed my advice. They are fairly set in their ways."
Sidhel gave him a long look out of the corner of his eye. "As are many others."
Legolas frowned in annoyance once more before nudging his horse forward, quickening their pace and quieting their conversation. Sidhel grinned and followed suit.
They rode in silence until they hit the small clearing where Nodron was waiting with the rest of Legolas' guard. The Prince gathered them up quickly, anxious to return back to the safety of their own borders. They had a long ride ahead of them and already the day was half over. If his meeting had not taken so long, they would have been that much closer to home.
Just as the final rider mounted, hooves echoed on the path from the north. Tensing, they drew their weapons just as the slender legs of two bay horses raced into the camp. Immediately Legolas recognized the guard and messenger, and lowered his nocked bow.
"My Lord!" the messenger called. "I have an urgent message from King Thranduil."
Hurrying forward, Legolas met the messenger. "What has happened?"
"Word has reached the King from the Goldenwood," exclaimed the messenger and Legolas felt himself go still, and suddenly he was afraid to hear what the messenger was about to say. "The Princess and Lords Elladan and Elrohir did not reach their destination. The Princess was separated during an ambush and has not been seen since."
"When did this news come in?" Legolas demanded, leaning forward in his saddle, dread seeping into every fiber of his being.
"Two days ago. They were to cross north of Lorien at the ford. The brothers made it across but they were ambushed upon crossing and the Princess was forced to flee into the south."
Forcing himself to stay put and not race off into the south after her, he took a steadying breath and searched for the link that connected himself and the white haired elleth. It was still there, and it vibrated with fear. How had he been so foolish as to push it so far back into his mind? How had he been so foolish as to ignore it? Silently he cursed himself.
"Who ambushed them?" asked Sidhel when Legolas fell quiet.
"Wildmen who crossed the Anduin from the west," said the messenger.
"What is to be done?" asked Sidhel, shooting Legolas a questioning glance.
"A search party has been organized by the northern and eastern marchwardens of Lorien, but aid has been requested if available in case she is forced to retreat back into the north."
"Did they say how many men?" asked Sidhel.
"Well over a dozen were slain at the ford, but it is unclear how many are roaming the Wilds near the Anduin."
"Sidhel, you and Nodron return the company to the Realm," Legolas started to say but the dark look that crossed over Sidhel's eyes told the Prince instantly the guard would not go without a direct command. "We cannot be without the entire patrol."
"Ernil Thranduil said you would say something like that," said the messenger quickly. "He told you to take two guards of your choice, and the others are to return. There is trouble on the western borders and aid has been requested."
Nodding, Legolas would not argue, though he knew even the two guards he took with him would lessen the strength of his troops by a tenfold, and that did not sit well with the Prince at all. He looked at Sidhel, who gave him a firm nod without even needing to be asked, telling the Prince he would follow. Then he turned to Nodron, who also nodded, answering the Prince's silent plea. It would not be easy for the three of them to leave the rest of their troop behind, weakening them, but Legolas knew they were well trained and that they wouldn't let him down.
"Very well," Legolas said, gathering his reins. "Tinnion, I trust you can speak for the company in my absence. You will retrieve your orders from King Thranduil before you disburse to the western borders."
Tinnion straightened in his saddle and nodded firmly. Legolas cast the rest of them one last glance, before thanking the messenger for his hasty ride.
"Let's go," said Legolas, and the three of them left the rest of their guard behind and took off down the Old Forest Road into the west as fast as their mounts would go.
She was being hunted.
For two days now she barely stopped to rest except for this moment in desperation when she almost collapsed from exhaustion. Boss was weary, the normal spark in his eye was gone and instead replaced with worry. She was worried too.
Hidden behind an enclave of rocks, Shyloh sat on the cold, stony ground and shivered. Two arrows; that was all she had left. That, and the sword she held in her lap and the small knife on her hip.
Sighing, she rested her head against the rock behind her.
What a mess, she thought miserably.
Dread seeped into her and she slouched where she sat. She was being followed from the north so she could not retrace her steps, not without risking confrontation. There was no safe place to cross the river either so she could try to escape.
From what she last saw, at least one mounted rider still pursued her, and to her great confusion, he seemed to be keeping a distance. Whatever he was waiting for she could not understand. He traveled about a mile back, always staying in her line of sight until this afternoon when he disappeared completely, setting her teeth on edge. Why he had disappeared and to where, she knew not, but she turned Boss loose and let him run as long as he could until deciding they might be safe, and they had no choice but to stop when dark settled in.
She finished a piece of Lembas she had tucked in her pack, and hoped that she could find the river again tomorrow. Her water skin was getting low too. Never before did Boss have trouble crossing water but for whatever reason he'd refused to step one foot into the river to follow the others. She was tempted to tell the horse this was all his fault but knew that wasn't exactly true. Maybe he'd sensed danger and that was why he wouldn't cross. She figured unless she heard it directly from the horse himself she would never know.
No doubt Elladan and Elrohir would be worried sick about her, and this was the first time in two days that she was finally able to sit down and think about them. She prayed to whomever was above and might be listening that her brothers were safe and sound. Breathing deeply through her nose, she let a sigh go slowly, attempting to calm the nervous edge that clung to every inch of her body.
She was positively filthy, and took advantage of the privacy the rocks provided by pulling out a fresh tunic and pair of leggings from her pack. The rest of her clothes and belongings had been packed on the spare horse. Her cloak was a muddy mess, but there was nothing she could do about that. Stripping and making quick work of changing, she pulled her boots on once more and tucked her dirtied clothes back inside her saddlebags. Her bedroll was still there but she'd hardly had reason to use it the last couple of nights.
Settling back on the ground, she pulled her cloak around her shoulders and tucked her knees up to her chest.
"We'll be alright boy," she told the horse. With her fingers, she worked the tangles out of her hair and picked at any debris that might have stuck to the messy strands, and pulled it into a bun at the nape of her neck.
A small flicker in the back of her mind suddenly caught her attention. The silver thread that linked her to another was something she hadn't thought about since before attempting to cross the river, but there it was. She tried to understand the emotions connected to it, but they were not calm and gentle feelings she was sensing. Instead, they were worried and fearful and frankly those emotions only added to her already troubled feelings.
Legolas.
His name drifted across her thoughts so easily that it startled her. She couldn't deny she missed him, despite the fact she still barely knew him. At that thought, she felt herself grow annoyed. It was silly of her to miss someone she hardly knew...right?
No doubt he would know what to do in a situation like this.
She focused on the thread because it was the only thing she could do at the moment, and as she closed her eyes she fell into a restless slumber with thoughts of him on her mind.
Shyloh peeked her head around the rocky shelf she hid behind, scouting the area as best she could given the dim of the early morning light. The rain overnight did nothing to help her and she cursed the sky for the hundredth time. Had there been any tracks or signs of an enemy she would no longer be able to see it. Feeling slightly defeated, she sat and waited for a short while, taking in all of her surroundings.
The rider that trailed her was nowhere in sight and that did not sit well with her. Why would he suddenly disappear? Perhaps she should have confronted him and chased him down. Wouldn't that be what an experienced warrior would do? She certainly couldn't see Elladan or Elrohir running from a single rider. Then again, if he disappeared perhaps he was calling on his comrades for aid in taking her out, or perhaps he had gotten bored with his chase but she doubted she was that lucky.
Mounting Boss, Shyloh steered him through the rocky ledges. The downhill march took the better half of the morning. Deciding to steer clear of the rocks, she rode east for a ways until she came to leveler ground and tall reeds sprang up around them. They would make better time on the plains compared to the bluffs and hoped that if they followed the base of the hills it would lead them to river level and allow them a place to cross.
She was just turning Boss to the south when she saw them. Two riders sat quietly on their horses no more than three quarters of a mile away. They were watching her and she felt herself grow anxious. She could tell they were Wildmen from their dark outline. This was not good. What were they waiting for? Why were they not approaching or attacking? Did they know where she spent the night? Boss hadn't given any indication of danger approaching during the long dark hours they spent alone.
She sat and waited, undecided if she should continue her course or if she should wait and see what they did. Perhaps she should retreat back into the cover of the rocks, now feeling suddenly too exposed.
"Where's Elladan and Elrohir when you need them?" she muttered and tried to weigh her options while they sat there.
She could go back into the cover of the rocks, which would slow her process and possibly lead her into another ambush. Or, she could hug the bluffs, covering more distance riding through the flat lands and allowing her the option of seeing her surroundings and keeping an eye on her pursuers, but also leaving her without much cover. Neither option settled well with her.
Favoring the second option over the slower, possibly more dangerous one of the bluffs, she turned Boss toward the south and prayed with all her might that she was not making the wrong decision.
She let Boss make the pace and she kept a close eye on their followers as they rode. Around midday she spotted them again and was startled to find they seemed a bit closer than before. Were they gaining on her?
A plan formulated in her mind so she turned Boss sharply and sprang away at all speed. Just as the ground began to rise, it quickly fell back down and she passed between tall pines that grew out of the suddenly rocky terrain. She ran Boss as long as possible, and once she was out of sight of the other riders she slowed and turned him sharply, following a trail that led them between two tall rocky shelves. She ducked as the overhang lowered, then turned Boss around and dismounted. The trail ended abruptly, enclosing them in on all three sides, the only way out being either straight up or back out the way they came.
It wasn't really what she had in mind, but it would be enough to hide Boss while she went scouting. The riders would have followed her trail, so she checked her weapons before kissing Boss' soft muzzle.
"I'll be back, keep quiet, and don't move a muscle," she said to him.
He only dipped his head and swished his tail but she took that as an 'I promise,' and then hurried back down the path she just came. Climbing up a steep incline, she made quick work of darting along the upper shelf, keeping out of sight from the trail and from any prying eyes.
She held her bow tightly in her hand while she walked quietly, honing as much of her elvish abilities as humanly possible. She wasn't as stealthy as possibly every other elf in the world, but she hoped she'd be quiet enough to sneak up on her followers.
When she finally found the perfect spot, she drew the hood of her cloak, concealing her as much as possible, and hunkered down. Time ticked by slowly but then she could hear the faint thudding of hooves as the riders drew closer. Steadying her breathing, she kept her eyes and ears peeled. The riders at long last came into view and she nocked her bow. If she was quick and steady, her last two arrows would find their mark swiftly.
They spoke in their own harsh language and as the wind shifted she could almost smell their foul odor. Honestly, didn't they ever bathe? She shuddered as they drew closer and found herself holding her breath. This was wrong in so many ways. She'd gone from prey to hunter in a matter of minutes. Back on earth, doing something like this would have been completely unheard of, not to mention barbaric in every way, shape, and form. Killing another human had always been an unthinkable thought. Orcs, sure, she had no problem giving them the fate they deserved, but another human? The only reason she'd killed the last few men was in pure self defense!
She felt like she was hunting deer; keeping as still and quiet as the riders trotted closer to the hillside where she was hiding. She knew that if she didn't kill them they would kill her, and given how her last battle went with the Wildmen, she knew that if she failed in defending herself, that bad things could happen to her before they actually killed her, and the thought of that made her want to hurl.
Be steady and strong, you know what your doing. You've trained for this, you got this, she told herself. Remember what you've learned about tracking the enemy, wait for the right moment when they're off guard, then strike.
Letting out a steady breath, her heart beat loudly in her chest and she could feel her hands start to tremble.
Stay calm, she thought. Just stay calm.
She watched as the riders came through the trees, hauling on their horses faces without mercy; their mount's eyes rolling wide and foam dripping from their mouths. They must have ridden quickly after her, because the horses had sweat gleaming on their necks and flanks. The riders searched the ground, looking all around for her tracks that disappeared over the rocky surface. One of them must have cursed, because he hit the other rider then gestured for him to search ahead, more than likely to find her trail.
The other man went but he grumbled the whole time. They were filthy, with nasty beards and long, scraggly hair that looked like one big rats nest on top of their heads. Their clothes were old and tattered and their weapons looked harsh and unyielding. She had planned on taking them both out together, but when one rider rode ahead, the other one turned back and she felt her heart race even faster. He was coming in her direction.
Surely if she killed one now, she could sneak over the ledge for the other when he came back for his comrade, however if the second rider saw the first one dead and he got away, he would no doubt come back with a full host of Wild Men at his heels and she could be in even more trouble than she was now.
The first rider, who was clearly the boss, leaned over the sides of his antsy horse, his sword drawn and a scowl upon his face. He bared his teeth while he searched for her trail, but the rocky ground was of no use to him. Turning his horse around roughly she took her chance. She wondered if shooting someone in the back was cowardly, but the size of the man compared to her was very obvious. If she were to go hand to hand with him, he could easily overpower her.
Suddenly, those extra training lessons in Lorien didn't sound like a bad idea.
Drawing her bow as quietly as possible, the man suddenly stiffened and then turned around, grinning.
"Here kitty kitty," he growled unpleasantly. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."
His harsh voice and thick accent sent a chill up her spine. He'd heard the drawback of the bow but had just moved out of her firing line before she could take the shot.
"Don't be shy," he said. "I just want to play."
Swallowing hard, she kept her grip on the bow string, keeping the arrow ready for the second he came into view. Time seemed to tick by slowly while she waited, and then to her confusion, the horse trotted past the opening, riderless.
Shit.
