Chapter 14

Finale: Paths of Darkness Unknown

Kalan and Boromir were being swarmed by the orcs. Kalan had managed to protect the hobbits but received an ugly gash from his shoulder to elbow. He also was bleeding from a crack in his head where he had taken a blow meant for Merry.

Boromir blew the horn once more, but was forced to put it down as an orc attacked. He was able to fight off that one; he struck it through the side. There was a whistling sound and Boromir jerked, crying out in pain. Kalan turned at his cry, the man had been struck in the chest by an orc arrow.

"Boromir!" Kalan called and tried to find a way to end his fight and get to him. Boromir blinked, still in shock but the adrenaline pumping in his veins kept the pain at bay. An orc charged him, and he swung his sword, decapitating it. Another whistle and he staggered once more. Another black arrow stuck out of his chest. He fell against a tree, looking over to his right.

Merry and Pippin watched in horror, their small bodies quivering in fear. They watched him with sad but hopeful, naive eyes. His little ones. A surge new strength ran through him and he brought his sword up to parry an orc's blow.

Kalan fought on, watching Boromir out of the corner of his eye. He screamed in rage as the arrows struck. He fought all the harder against the enemy. He heard another cry and turned to see the orcs bearing down on the hobbits.

"No! Merry! Pippin!" he screamed, and tried to get to them. Another cry, this one from Boromir. The man was on his knees, one more arrow, still quivering from his side. "Boromi -" something hit him across the head, as he was distracted. The world spun and the ground rushed up to meet him. Blinking, his head throbbing, Kalan lay, dazed on the ground. An orc loomed over him a scimitar poised to strike. Suddenly, he was knocked away by one of his fellows. They growled in guttural tones that Kalan could barely understand. The one who had saved him bent over Kalan, grasping him by the hair. He spoke in slow, halting common. "Silver eyes, you come too. To Isengaurd," he growled. Kalan's vision darkened, it felt like his head was spinning crazily. The orc growled once more and hit Kalan hard. As darkness took him, Kalan saw Merry and Pippin being carried off by the orcs.

Boromir knelt, his sword hanging loosely from his hand. His eyes locked onto Kalan's for one instant. In that time, something passed between them, an understanding, a thanks and an apology, just before Kalan fell into darkness: an omen of things to come.

The orcs picked Kalan up, one draping his limp body over his shoulder. They began their run back to Isenguard. They had gotten what they had come for, or so they thought.

Aragorn and the others had been too late to save Boromir's life, or rescue Kalan and the hobbits. In that small amount of time, Aragorn had sworn an oath to Boromir, saying that he would not let Minas Tirith fall, nor their people fail. He had closed his brother in arms' lifeless eyes, wishing him peace.

And now the tree of them stood on the shore, watching solemnly as a small boat carrying the body of Boromir went over the falls. Legolas started to put the last boat into the water.

"Quickly. Frodo and Sam have already reached the eastern shore," he said, eager to follow. But Aragorn didn't move. He looked out across the lake and saw the moored boat; two small figures disappeared into the foliage. Legolas watched him, and then said, "You mean not to follow them," he stated, not a question.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," he said, but he didn't seem too happy about it. Gimli growled.

"Then it has all been in vain, the Fellowship has failed," he said, angry and frustrated. Aragorn looked at his two companions.

"Not if we hold true to each other," he clasped them each on the shoulder. "We will not abandon Merry, Pippin and Kalan to torture and death. Not while we still have strength left," he went over to his packs and took out his long knife; he sheathed it into his belt. "Leave all that can be spared, we travel light," he looked up at them, there was a rakish twinkle in his eye; a renewed fire. "Lets hunt some orc," then jogged off into the forest.

Gimli looked at Legolas, who looked at Gimli. The dwarf smiled.

"Yes!" and took off after Aragorn, followed closely by the elf.

The large party of orcs ran toward Isenguard, herding along two smaller figures with whips. The two figures were tied at the wrists, stumbling along blindly: it was Merry and Pippin. Another orc carried a burden over his shoulder; the legs and wrists were tied with a heavy rope. No one knew how long they had been running.

Suddenly, Pippin tripped, falling headlong into the ground. The orcs came to a halt, once came over and gave him a brutal kick. Pippin cried out in pain and curled into a tight ball, whimpering. The orcs grunted and growled amongst themselves, then they made camp. Merry was brought forward and dumped unceremoniously next to his cousin. A fiery liquid was forced down their throats and then they were left alone. Merry, breathing heavily, looked over at his companion.

"Hullo, Pip. So you've come on this little expedition, too," he breathed. Pippin didn't answer, but nodded. "I wonder what they'll do with us," said Merry. Another orc came over to them and they cringed, awaiting the beating that they were sure was coming. Instead, there was a thump as the orc dropped a moaning burden onto the ground with them, then he left. Merry shifted and grasped the newcomer's shoulder, turning the body over. The hobbit gasped when he saw the bruised and bloody face.

"Kalan!" he exclaimed. Pippin looked over.

"Really?" he asked, Merry nodded.

"Look," Pip struggled over. Indeed it was the young half-dragon, his dark hair was messy and matted with dried blood. "Well, at least they bound his wound up," said Merry after examining his friend, seeing the crude bandaging on Kalan's upper arm. "I wonder why they took him, too," said Pippin, Merry shrugged. Then Kalan moaned and his eyes blinked open. It took a few seconds for him to focus on the faces above him.

"Merry, Pip. Are you two alright?" he asked in a weak voice. The hobbits nodded and Kalan sighed. "Good, they think one of you has the Ring. Why the brought me along, I don't know," he paused, taking a shuddering breath before continuing. "I'll try and keep them away from you, but you have to promise me one thing," he said severely.

"Anything, Kalan," said Pippin, earnestly.

"If you get the chance to escape, go, even if you have to leave me behind. As long as I know you're safe, I'll be alright." Merry was shocked.

"No, Kalan! We couldn't -" he cried and then shut his mouth as Kalan gave him a frightening look.

"You must, Merry! I'll be able to survive anything as long as I know you are safe," he coughed slightly. Merry looked down but he nodded, as did Pippin. "Good, now you should rest while you can. I don't know how they expect me to run with my legs tied, though," he said, smiling slightly, trying to lighten the mood. He was rewarded with a small smiled from the two hobbits.

"Kalan?" asked Pippin in a small voice, "What are they going to do to us?" he asked, his voice shaking. Kalan looked upon his small friend with compassion.

"Not a damn thing, Pip, not if I have anything to say about it," he answered and there was a dangerous look in his silver eyes. Merry though to himself, 'I'm sure glad he is on our side.' Then with a hobbit curled on either side, Kalan rested, but did not sleep. Merry and Pippin drifted off and he watched and guarded their sleep. Kalan thought and listened to the orcs speech, and he dreaded the days to come.

Finis