Chapter Three: Tracks
The next day, upon the request of their father, Elladan, Elrohir and three more Rivendell elves have gone to scout the borders upon the ford. Their father wanted to know who were these men and what business brought them near Rivendell.
The band of elves paused by the other side of the bank and saw the black vultures circling above the hill. They knew the wolves and these birds have already dealt with the bodies the previous night. They soon crossed the river and surveyed the opposite bank for clues as to the identities of the men. They have expected nothing so the other three elves rode up the hill leaving Elladan and Elrohir to study the remnant of the man's clothing on the ground that Elladan shot last night.
"Elladan, Elrohir, up here!" Himandel called out from atop the edge and held up a bow for the twin brothers to see. The other elf found several other bows lying on the ground as well and wanted the brothers to see it. The two brothers quickly re-mounted their horses and were standing beside Himandel in moments. They also found out that the rest of their scouting party have rode away to search more signs that could reveal anything about the men's activity.
"The workmanship is crude," observed Elladan when the bow was handed to him.
"It seems to be made by the Easterlings," Elrohir remarked who was squatting near the bushes and held up a dagger. A chip of the blade in the middle made it looked as if something heavy struck it.
"Aye, Easterling craft work," Himandel concurred as he and the brothers heard of approaching hoof beats and saw the other two members arriving. They walked up to meet the riders.
Narquelion was the lead elf to arrive so he began his report. "We followed a horse track leading away from the edge but it veered away from a camp that was barely settled. Also, we saw five leagues away, some sort of caravan heading north...."
"Show us this camp," Elladan urgently said, mindful that he broke mid-way through Narquelion's report. He held on the bow while Elrohir placed the dagger on the empty casing he found on the ground and tied it to his belt strap. Himandel gathered the other bows and strapped them to his saddle.
Narquelion nodded as he and the rest of the party head out to the reported camp.
The ride took fifteen minutes to reach from the edge on horseback, Elrohir noticed as he dismounted from his steed. The other Elves have also dismounted and were combing the camp for more clues. If this was the girl's camp and she started running here, she would be terribly exhausted by the time she reached the edge. Elrohir mused as he looked around at the barely settled camp. There were few utensils on the ground. Nail spikes had been dug in place waiting for the tents still on the ground to be pitch in. Narquelion held out one side of the tent flap for everyone to see the long slash running vertical from the top. The other Elves found a fork and two spoons half-buried in the ground. Bags were flattened out of shape, their contents arrayed in the ground as if someone went through them in search for something useful.
Elladan knelt on the ground and pulled the half-buried fork from the soil. He found that its silver body was bent and that there was a design on the fork's base. He began to wipe away the soil that covered the design. It was a very small tree so finely etched that it would have taken someone with elven eyes or at least someone with acutely fine motor skills to depict the intricate drawing in one sure stroke. It clearly belonged to someone from the White City of Gondor!
"Recognize this, brother?" Elladan asked as his voice went up a notch with concern as he handed the fork to Elrohir upon standing up.
His brother turned sharply when he recognized the handiwork and glanced back at his twin with a grim expression. However, before he could express his concern, a whistle intruded and they had no choice but to the tuck away their respective thoughts for later discussion. They followed the origin of the sound that was coming from their right. Apparently, another member of the scouting party found something a little further away from the camp.
"These," Himandel pointing on the ground when the rest of the scout party converged to his spot, "suggests that the horse was burdened with two riders." He noted the deep horseshoe impressions on the ground as they all stared at it.
"Something happened to this horse," he continued walking along the prints as he closely studied them. His own footprints did not leave any marks on the ground that would further obliterate the evidence he was trying to read since the presence of other hoof prints was already becoming tricky.
"From what I can tell, the horse reared," he said as he creased his forehead while he noticed small footprints leading away from the apparent 'melee.'
"There was another rider who stopped the horse." Himandel paused. "A child ran away from the struggle." He squatted and sat on the balls of his feet while the others followed suit beside him.
Setting his jaw in place, he continued. "I believe there was indeed a struggle," waving to the ground before them. "What happened to the other rider, I know not." Himandel finally ended with a waged his head in frustration and he stood up. Elladan put his hand on the other Elf's shoulder, saying that they have appreciated his insights.
"It is enough." Elladan said since he came to the same conclusion. Although he would not have thought that there was a struggle, just as Himandel said, he was not going to rule it out all together. Elladan knew all their questions will be answered once the girl was strong enough to relate what happened to her. Everyone gathered back to their respective horses and started the ride back home.
"Ada, will not like what we will report to him," Elrohir predicted when he rode up beside his brother towards Rivendell. Elladan merely give his brother a nod and grew pensive.
Who were these men and what do they want with the girl? He pondered.
When they have finally returned to the elven sanctuary, the twin brothers immediately went straight to their father's library.
Elladan knocked before proceeding into the chamber to announce their arrival. They entered the room and found little Estel, hunched over a book. However, at that same moment they stepped in, they could tell from Estel's facial expression that they have shortly rescued him from the apparent mental exercises their father had in store for him that day.
Elrohir could not stop himself from making a repartee. "What problem, are you studying this time, little Estel?" He asked as he tousled the boy's brown hair when leaned to look at the book the boy was studying. Standing behind him was Elladan watching with twinkling eyes filled with amusement.
"It's not a problem," Estel reiterated while letting out a sigh. Elrohir's brows shot up in being corrected.
"Father had me name all the herbs that I know and have seen this morning and I..." He bit his lip. "I failed." He quietly elaborated.
"Now, now," Elladan began trying to bolster back Estel's confidence as he walked near the boy. "Do not be disheartened with your mistakes. You will get all of them in time and with practice, you will be able to identify the herbs even with your eyes close." He smiled affectionately at Estel. There were days that the boy was always in such a hurry to grow up.
"Even Elrohir can not remember them too at his first try." He chuckled. Estel shot Elrohir a startled look.
"That is true." Elrohir said while shooting his brother a slight weathering look at the last comment of him. His little mistake happened many, many, many years ago and although he eventually turned to be, one the best healers just like his twin brother later, he still particularly did not like how Elladan would come to announce about his one-time difficulty.
Shifting his thoughts to the present, he continued, "Do not worry, you will become a great healer yourself one day." Elrohir added encouragingly and patted the boy's shoulder.
Elrond glanced at his other son rather sharply than he intended and Elladan noticed it.
Would his son know that considering the young boy's lineage, within him also bears the trait of a born healer? The Elf leader thought and continued to watch the exchange between the brothers.
"Like father?" Estel was trying to brighten his gloomy day and sat straighter this time.
Elrond let out a small hearty laughter. "If you want to be, then it will take more study and diligence on your part, Estel." Elrond fondly advised and for a briefest time, Estel caught the sadness in his father's eyes.
Now, why would father be sad that I would soon become a good healer as he is? He asked himself but dismissed the thought as quickly as it came.
**********
Several leagues away, a caravan was ready to break camp when a lone rider arrived. A swarthy looking man seated already on his brown steed eyed the approaching lone rider with one a suspicious glance.
"You failed again?" The swarthy man said in a calculated monotone voice. He half-expected the sisters bound and walking behind his horse. Instead, he saw nothing.
"Mayarlos," the rider started as he rode beside him. "It was n-ot my fa-ult." He stammered. "The Elves rescued her and took her to safety."
"Bah, what kind of fool do you take me for!" The swarthy-looking man screeched.
"I am not implying..." but the rider was cut off, not given a chance to explain at all.
"Not only you have lost the older one," the swarthy man rumbled on. "But also you have lost the girl and my men!"
The rider shrank. "But I did not loose the girl." He stubbornly put forth but was cut short again by Mayarlos.
"I will have you answer to Novan, yourself!" Mayarlos bellowed and heeled his horse were the animal shot forward to join the other riders ahead.
Enerion, a rider, cringed as he subconsciously touched his neck. Novan has been reputed to be an exacting slave driver and have taken a new preoccupation, which was the task of taking off one's head for those who cannot fulfill what was agreed upon as a price.
He was doomed the moment he thought of re-joining the caravan. I shouldn't have returned at all. He chided himself. Enerion sullenly rode on his horse, going along with the caravan, no doubt on their way to meet with Novan. He had to think of a plan, to get out from this mess and not meet Novan's ax.
By noon, the caravan made a stop to have a meal. The journey would take them three days to Novan's appointed place of operation and Mayarlos intended in getting his merchandize on time.
Bounded by inter-locking chains and shackled feet, the prisoners were commanded out from their cages to eat their meal, while letting the horses graze at the small amount of green grass found to the caravans' right.
When the prisoners were seated themselves on the ground, the end of the main chain was hammered down to the peg through the ground thus preventing anyone from trying to escape. If they tried, they would just be held back by the chain, which only provided only a few feet of leeway. Some resisted but not anymore. The travel made most of the prisoners weary, thirsty and submissive.
From his position, which was at the back end of the caravan section, Enerion seated himself beside a wagon, securing whatever little shade it could provide from the noontime sun and gazed at their captives with indifference. He caught three pairs of eyes staring at him and in their eyes spoke of ill will they wanted to do to him.
Enerion averted his eyes, not that he was afraid of them but he was more interested in finding the boy amidst the sea of dejected faces, the one that has to be alive in order for his plan to work.
The little boy glanced up with frightened eyes when he caught sight of a man's boots beside him. The boy quickly stared down at his bowl of half rotten meat and stale bread. Hoping that if he did so, he could avoid the man's intentions for him and that he would go away. However, the man didn't go away. Fear tingled on the skin of the boy when the man knelt beside him. It made the boy tremble and began to dread the next words.
"You will be adequate for my plan." He smiled evilly as the boy scampered away from him. A loud clunk came as he stumbled on the ground when the chains snapped his ankle. He gave a shout as the suddenness of the pull nearly took his leg off. He whimpered in pain as he looked back at the man who seemed to loom before him. The boy tried to ease the pain by drawing his leg closer to his chest. The chains served as a reminder of how limited his movement was.
Suddenly, a cold biting sting under the metal clasp made the boy squirmed as the hot air found his exposed skin. He hissed under his breath as he tried to inspect what was causing it. He found that blisters had already formed on his ankle and it was too painful to bear. He cried as he lay down trying his best to squelch the soreness.
Satisfied of bringing fear to the boy, Enerion then went to talk to Mayarlos one last time.
Mayarlos glanced up; looking very irritated of having his meal disturbed.
"What do you want?" He gruffly asked and shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth.
"I'm going to search for the girl again but I will be needing that boy," pointing at the child who was now, sitting up again and staring at the distant plain from where they had trudged before.
"What for?" He continued with his tone while chewing on the piece of meat he had.
"For my plan," Enerion answered. "He knows the girl..." he was abruptly cut off.
"I have given you a chance," he spoke menacingly at Enerion and at the same time threateningly waves the fork at him. "There are no more chances. Now, go back and eat your meal." He flatly ordered and went back to eat.
Enerion bristled inside. He had to leave the slave caravan, somehow. To him, it was a death march back to Novan.
Mayarlos chuckled as he gazed back at Enerion. He sensed the man's predicament. "Novan will be please to have you." The other nodded in affirmation as if with some imaginary friend. "It has been quite a while since his last beheading, oh...for about three fortnights."
Enerion went pale.
"If I were you," Mayarlos pointedly said aloud. "You should be re-thinking your excuses." Mayarlos told him and continued chuckling at the thought.
The other man glared at him but soon moved away. He reclaimed his seat near the end of the caravan and started whetting his dagger. He has one agenda in his mind and that is, not loosing his head to Novan's ax.
*************
Easterlings near their borders and their apparent intrusion did not sit well with Elrond after hearing his sons' report. Messengers were sent out to other elf havens to inform and likewise gather news from their other brethren of this activity. He would be expecting their return from their duties abroad in two fortnights.
The elf lord paced outside the courtyard lost in his thoughts. Could the enemy be moving his minions to seek out the Rivendell? He asked himself. No. That time has not come yet. He assured himself but continued to pace and this time his musings drifted to think about his sons'. They had left him a while ago to visit their young guest but he knew her condition has not changed since she was brought here yesterday.
Elrond soon found staring back at the table where the weapons sat gathered by his sons' from their latest excursion. The weapons were a couple of crude looking bows and a dagger with a chip off blade and a couple of spoons and fork with the marks of the White City on its silver bodies.
Normally, in battle, the Easterlings were gaudy but it seems that this group was engaged in a merely routine livelihood of some sort and were only equipped with bows and the standard use of the sword.
In comparison, the weapons were absent of all grace and harmony that were very common in the crafts of Elves. For the Easterlings these were mere weapons and there was no need to bring beauty out from their works of war.
The weapons were brought outside instead for he did not relish having the memories of their fallen kin mocked in receiving them into the heart of Imladris. He stood afar from the weapons as he mind recalled the dark tales of Nirnaeth Arnoediad.
In addition to his sons' find, were the food utensils from the White City. A lone camp had fallen into ambush by the Easterlings? What was their purpose? Easterlings did not take prisoners unless it will serve them for ransom. Elrond continued to ponder. Soon, his train of thought was broken when a servant passed. The Elf lord beckoned him to his side and requested to have his chief captain of the guards summoned to the courtyard.
The servant nodded and left the elf leader to fetch the captain. He did not have to wait long for Orthalen, Elrond's chief captain of the guards, walked briskly towards him.
"Orthalen," Elrond greeted as the other elf bowed.
"An errand my lord?" He inquired with a puzzled look on his face.
"Nay," the elf leader answered and beckoned him to follow. Elrond led him to the table where the weapons lay.
"My sons' with the scouting party went for a short excursion this morning to the direction of the ford," he said, "they found these strewn near the edge." He gestured at the weapons.
"These are Easterling-made," Orthalen commented the obvious when he picked up the dagger. There was nothing much to inspect from it and returned it on the table. His attention soon came to rest on the fork with an engraved tree.
Elrond nodded. "I would like you to increase the watch on all our borders and report anything amiss." The Elf lord instructed the chief.
Orthalen nodded in understanding and bowed again. Before he left, he asked. "One of the Easterlings captives is from Gondor?"
"Yes, I believe so and I think our guest is from the White City or has relatives living there." Elrond said but knew he was right.
The other elf nodded as he took in the information. They spoke some more before Orthalen finally took his leave.
Elrond soon turns around to the sound of low murmur heading towards his direction and receives Elladan, Elrohir and Estel.
"And how is our guest?" He asked when his three sons joined him although he knew the answer beforehand.
"She is sleeping," Estel answered and spied another look at the weapons on the table as he passed by but finally directed his gaze towards his father.
"Do you know when she will wake up?" Estel asked.
"No, I do not know, child. When her body has sufficiently healed, our guest will wake up. Do not worry." His father remarked after placing a hand on his youngest adopted son's head.
"Father, about the weapons.... Elladan started. "I shall dispose of them now." He volunteered and picked up the weapons.
"Thank you, Elladan." He replied and soon Elladan left them to complete the task.
The next day, upon the request of their father, Elladan, Elrohir and three more Rivendell elves have gone to scout the borders upon the ford. Their father wanted to know who were these men and what business brought them near Rivendell.
The band of elves paused by the other side of the bank and saw the black vultures circling above the hill. They knew the wolves and these birds have already dealt with the bodies the previous night. They soon crossed the river and surveyed the opposite bank for clues as to the identities of the men. They have expected nothing so the other three elves rode up the hill leaving Elladan and Elrohir to study the remnant of the man's clothing on the ground that Elladan shot last night.
"Elladan, Elrohir, up here!" Himandel called out from atop the edge and held up a bow for the twin brothers to see. The other elf found several other bows lying on the ground as well and wanted the brothers to see it. The two brothers quickly re-mounted their horses and were standing beside Himandel in moments. They also found out that the rest of their scouting party have rode away to search more signs that could reveal anything about the men's activity.
"The workmanship is crude," observed Elladan when the bow was handed to him.
"It seems to be made by the Easterlings," Elrohir remarked who was squatting near the bushes and held up a dagger. A chip of the blade in the middle made it looked as if something heavy struck it.
"Aye, Easterling craft work," Himandel concurred as he and the brothers heard of approaching hoof beats and saw the other two members arriving. They walked up to meet the riders.
Narquelion was the lead elf to arrive so he began his report. "We followed a horse track leading away from the edge but it veered away from a camp that was barely settled. Also, we saw five leagues away, some sort of caravan heading north...."
"Show us this camp," Elladan urgently said, mindful that he broke mid-way through Narquelion's report. He held on the bow while Elrohir placed the dagger on the empty casing he found on the ground and tied it to his belt strap. Himandel gathered the other bows and strapped them to his saddle.
Narquelion nodded as he and the rest of the party head out to the reported camp.
The ride took fifteen minutes to reach from the edge on horseback, Elrohir noticed as he dismounted from his steed. The other Elves have also dismounted and were combing the camp for more clues. If this was the girl's camp and she started running here, she would be terribly exhausted by the time she reached the edge. Elrohir mused as he looked around at the barely settled camp. There were few utensils on the ground. Nail spikes had been dug in place waiting for the tents still on the ground to be pitch in. Narquelion held out one side of the tent flap for everyone to see the long slash running vertical from the top. The other Elves found a fork and two spoons half-buried in the ground. Bags were flattened out of shape, their contents arrayed in the ground as if someone went through them in search for something useful.
Elladan knelt on the ground and pulled the half-buried fork from the soil. He found that its silver body was bent and that there was a design on the fork's base. He began to wipe away the soil that covered the design. It was a very small tree so finely etched that it would have taken someone with elven eyes or at least someone with acutely fine motor skills to depict the intricate drawing in one sure stroke. It clearly belonged to someone from the White City of Gondor!
"Recognize this, brother?" Elladan asked as his voice went up a notch with concern as he handed the fork to Elrohir upon standing up.
His brother turned sharply when he recognized the handiwork and glanced back at his twin with a grim expression. However, before he could express his concern, a whistle intruded and they had no choice but to the tuck away their respective thoughts for later discussion. They followed the origin of the sound that was coming from their right. Apparently, another member of the scouting party found something a little further away from the camp.
"These," Himandel pointing on the ground when the rest of the scout party converged to his spot, "suggests that the horse was burdened with two riders." He noted the deep horseshoe impressions on the ground as they all stared at it.
"Something happened to this horse," he continued walking along the prints as he closely studied them. His own footprints did not leave any marks on the ground that would further obliterate the evidence he was trying to read since the presence of other hoof prints was already becoming tricky.
"From what I can tell, the horse reared," he said as he creased his forehead while he noticed small footprints leading away from the apparent 'melee.'
"There was another rider who stopped the horse." Himandel paused. "A child ran away from the struggle." He squatted and sat on the balls of his feet while the others followed suit beside him.
Setting his jaw in place, he continued. "I believe there was indeed a struggle," waving to the ground before them. "What happened to the other rider, I know not." Himandel finally ended with a waged his head in frustration and he stood up. Elladan put his hand on the other Elf's shoulder, saying that they have appreciated his insights.
"It is enough." Elladan said since he came to the same conclusion. Although he would not have thought that there was a struggle, just as Himandel said, he was not going to rule it out all together. Elladan knew all their questions will be answered once the girl was strong enough to relate what happened to her. Everyone gathered back to their respective horses and started the ride back home.
"Ada, will not like what we will report to him," Elrohir predicted when he rode up beside his brother towards Rivendell. Elladan merely give his brother a nod and grew pensive.
Who were these men and what do they want with the girl? He pondered.
When they have finally returned to the elven sanctuary, the twin brothers immediately went straight to their father's library.
Elladan knocked before proceeding into the chamber to announce their arrival. They entered the room and found little Estel, hunched over a book. However, at that same moment they stepped in, they could tell from Estel's facial expression that they have shortly rescued him from the apparent mental exercises their father had in store for him that day.
Elrohir could not stop himself from making a repartee. "What problem, are you studying this time, little Estel?" He asked as he tousled the boy's brown hair when leaned to look at the book the boy was studying. Standing behind him was Elladan watching with twinkling eyes filled with amusement.
"It's not a problem," Estel reiterated while letting out a sigh. Elrohir's brows shot up in being corrected.
"Father had me name all the herbs that I know and have seen this morning and I..." He bit his lip. "I failed." He quietly elaborated.
"Now, now," Elladan began trying to bolster back Estel's confidence as he walked near the boy. "Do not be disheartened with your mistakes. You will get all of them in time and with practice, you will be able to identify the herbs even with your eyes close." He smiled affectionately at Estel. There were days that the boy was always in such a hurry to grow up.
"Even Elrohir can not remember them too at his first try." He chuckled. Estel shot Elrohir a startled look.
"That is true." Elrohir said while shooting his brother a slight weathering look at the last comment of him. His little mistake happened many, many, many years ago and although he eventually turned to be, one the best healers just like his twin brother later, he still particularly did not like how Elladan would come to announce about his one-time difficulty.
Shifting his thoughts to the present, he continued, "Do not worry, you will become a great healer yourself one day." Elrohir added encouragingly and patted the boy's shoulder.
Elrond glanced at his other son rather sharply than he intended and Elladan noticed it.
Would his son know that considering the young boy's lineage, within him also bears the trait of a born healer? The Elf leader thought and continued to watch the exchange between the brothers.
"Like father?" Estel was trying to brighten his gloomy day and sat straighter this time.
Elrond let out a small hearty laughter. "If you want to be, then it will take more study and diligence on your part, Estel." Elrond fondly advised and for a briefest time, Estel caught the sadness in his father's eyes.
Now, why would father be sad that I would soon become a good healer as he is? He asked himself but dismissed the thought as quickly as it came.
**********
Several leagues away, a caravan was ready to break camp when a lone rider arrived. A swarthy looking man seated already on his brown steed eyed the approaching lone rider with one a suspicious glance.
"You failed again?" The swarthy man said in a calculated monotone voice. He half-expected the sisters bound and walking behind his horse. Instead, he saw nothing.
"Mayarlos," the rider started as he rode beside him. "It was n-ot my fa-ult." He stammered. "The Elves rescued her and took her to safety."
"Bah, what kind of fool do you take me for!" The swarthy-looking man screeched.
"I am not implying..." but the rider was cut off, not given a chance to explain at all.
"Not only you have lost the older one," the swarthy man rumbled on. "But also you have lost the girl and my men!"
The rider shrank. "But I did not loose the girl." He stubbornly put forth but was cut short again by Mayarlos.
"I will have you answer to Novan, yourself!" Mayarlos bellowed and heeled his horse were the animal shot forward to join the other riders ahead.
Enerion, a rider, cringed as he subconsciously touched his neck. Novan has been reputed to be an exacting slave driver and have taken a new preoccupation, which was the task of taking off one's head for those who cannot fulfill what was agreed upon as a price.
He was doomed the moment he thought of re-joining the caravan. I shouldn't have returned at all. He chided himself. Enerion sullenly rode on his horse, going along with the caravan, no doubt on their way to meet with Novan. He had to think of a plan, to get out from this mess and not meet Novan's ax.
By noon, the caravan made a stop to have a meal. The journey would take them three days to Novan's appointed place of operation and Mayarlos intended in getting his merchandize on time.
Bounded by inter-locking chains and shackled feet, the prisoners were commanded out from their cages to eat their meal, while letting the horses graze at the small amount of green grass found to the caravans' right.
When the prisoners were seated themselves on the ground, the end of the main chain was hammered down to the peg through the ground thus preventing anyone from trying to escape. If they tried, they would just be held back by the chain, which only provided only a few feet of leeway. Some resisted but not anymore. The travel made most of the prisoners weary, thirsty and submissive.
From his position, which was at the back end of the caravan section, Enerion seated himself beside a wagon, securing whatever little shade it could provide from the noontime sun and gazed at their captives with indifference. He caught three pairs of eyes staring at him and in their eyes spoke of ill will they wanted to do to him.
Enerion averted his eyes, not that he was afraid of them but he was more interested in finding the boy amidst the sea of dejected faces, the one that has to be alive in order for his plan to work.
The little boy glanced up with frightened eyes when he caught sight of a man's boots beside him. The boy quickly stared down at his bowl of half rotten meat and stale bread. Hoping that if he did so, he could avoid the man's intentions for him and that he would go away. However, the man didn't go away. Fear tingled on the skin of the boy when the man knelt beside him. It made the boy tremble and began to dread the next words.
"You will be adequate for my plan." He smiled evilly as the boy scampered away from him. A loud clunk came as he stumbled on the ground when the chains snapped his ankle. He gave a shout as the suddenness of the pull nearly took his leg off. He whimpered in pain as he looked back at the man who seemed to loom before him. The boy tried to ease the pain by drawing his leg closer to his chest. The chains served as a reminder of how limited his movement was.
Suddenly, a cold biting sting under the metal clasp made the boy squirmed as the hot air found his exposed skin. He hissed under his breath as he tried to inspect what was causing it. He found that blisters had already formed on his ankle and it was too painful to bear. He cried as he lay down trying his best to squelch the soreness.
Satisfied of bringing fear to the boy, Enerion then went to talk to Mayarlos one last time.
Mayarlos glanced up; looking very irritated of having his meal disturbed.
"What do you want?" He gruffly asked and shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth.
"I'm going to search for the girl again but I will be needing that boy," pointing at the child who was now, sitting up again and staring at the distant plain from where they had trudged before.
"What for?" He continued with his tone while chewing on the piece of meat he had.
"For my plan," Enerion answered. "He knows the girl..." he was abruptly cut off.
"I have given you a chance," he spoke menacingly at Enerion and at the same time threateningly waves the fork at him. "There are no more chances. Now, go back and eat your meal." He flatly ordered and went back to eat.
Enerion bristled inside. He had to leave the slave caravan, somehow. To him, it was a death march back to Novan.
Mayarlos chuckled as he gazed back at Enerion. He sensed the man's predicament. "Novan will be please to have you." The other nodded in affirmation as if with some imaginary friend. "It has been quite a while since his last beheading, oh...for about three fortnights."
Enerion went pale.
"If I were you," Mayarlos pointedly said aloud. "You should be re-thinking your excuses." Mayarlos told him and continued chuckling at the thought.
The other man glared at him but soon moved away. He reclaimed his seat near the end of the caravan and started whetting his dagger. He has one agenda in his mind and that is, not loosing his head to Novan's ax.
*************
Easterlings near their borders and their apparent intrusion did not sit well with Elrond after hearing his sons' report. Messengers were sent out to other elf havens to inform and likewise gather news from their other brethren of this activity. He would be expecting their return from their duties abroad in two fortnights.
The elf lord paced outside the courtyard lost in his thoughts. Could the enemy be moving his minions to seek out the Rivendell? He asked himself. No. That time has not come yet. He assured himself but continued to pace and this time his musings drifted to think about his sons'. They had left him a while ago to visit their young guest but he knew her condition has not changed since she was brought here yesterday.
Elrond soon found staring back at the table where the weapons sat gathered by his sons' from their latest excursion. The weapons were a couple of crude looking bows and a dagger with a chip off blade and a couple of spoons and fork with the marks of the White City on its silver bodies.
Normally, in battle, the Easterlings were gaudy but it seems that this group was engaged in a merely routine livelihood of some sort and were only equipped with bows and the standard use of the sword.
In comparison, the weapons were absent of all grace and harmony that were very common in the crafts of Elves. For the Easterlings these were mere weapons and there was no need to bring beauty out from their works of war.
The weapons were brought outside instead for he did not relish having the memories of their fallen kin mocked in receiving them into the heart of Imladris. He stood afar from the weapons as he mind recalled the dark tales of Nirnaeth Arnoediad.
In addition to his sons' find, were the food utensils from the White City. A lone camp had fallen into ambush by the Easterlings? What was their purpose? Easterlings did not take prisoners unless it will serve them for ransom. Elrond continued to ponder. Soon, his train of thought was broken when a servant passed. The Elf lord beckoned him to his side and requested to have his chief captain of the guards summoned to the courtyard.
The servant nodded and left the elf leader to fetch the captain. He did not have to wait long for Orthalen, Elrond's chief captain of the guards, walked briskly towards him.
"Orthalen," Elrond greeted as the other elf bowed.
"An errand my lord?" He inquired with a puzzled look on his face.
"Nay," the elf leader answered and beckoned him to follow. Elrond led him to the table where the weapons lay.
"My sons' with the scouting party went for a short excursion this morning to the direction of the ford," he said, "they found these strewn near the edge." He gestured at the weapons.
"These are Easterling-made," Orthalen commented the obvious when he picked up the dagger. There was nothing much to inspect from it and returned it on the table. His attention soon came to rest on the fork with an engraved tree.
Elrond nodded. "I would like you to increase the watch on all our borders and report anything amiss." The Elf lord instructed the chief.
Orthalen nodded in understanding and bowed again. Before he left, he asked. "One of the Easterlings captives is from Gondor?"
"Yes, I believe so and I think our guest is from the White City or has relatives living there." Elrond said but knew he was right.
The other elf nodded as he took in the information. They spoke some more before Orthalen finally took his leave.
Elrond soon turns around to the sound of low murmur heading towards his direction and receives Elladan, Elrohir and Estel.
"And how is our guest?" He asked when his three sons joined him although he knew the answer beforehand.
"She is sleeping," Estel answered and spied another look at the weapons on the table as he passed by but finally directed his gaze towards his father.
"Do you know when she will wake up?" Estel asked.
"No, I do not know, child. When her body has sufficiently healed, our guest will wake up. Do not worry." His father remarked after placing a hand on his youngest adopted son's head.
"Father, about the weapons.... Elladan started. "I shall dispose of them now." He volunteered and picked up the weapons.
"Thank you, Elladan." He replied and soon Elladan left them to complete the task.