The four forlorn figures rose up before the dawn of the twelfth day on Amon Hen. All had long abandoned an attempt at any sleep and they sat blear-eyed around the dying embers of a meagre fire. The flickering glow cast eerie shadows on their mournful.

Aragorn's sapphire eyes were reddened for he'd shed tears for their fallen comrade, and now the scorched orange shades of the fire made his face appear hollow and his eyes sunken and sore. Gimli sat in stony silence, his eyes downcast as he rocked slowly in his seat. Legolas sat against the trunk of a tree, his wounded arm limp at his side. His ever-bright eyes were wide and alert and yet, he was lost completely in thought. Even Nephryn was weighed with a bone-crushing weariness that was forceful enough cause her to rest her head against Legolas's shoulder, and yet not quite strong enough to allow any of them to drift into the oblivion of an exhausted sleep.

Aragorn stood abruptly and began to pace, as though some urgency had taken him. His eyes darted back and forth, and it was clear to all that the sharp-minded man was formulating a plan.

"It is not clear to me now what we are to do, but I believe that, although it has been fraught with tragedy and loss, our journey thus far has been mapped and foreseen by a higher power."

All could see that beneath the sorrow and defeat, there burned in the man's eyes, a grim determination that all that had been lost would not be for nothing.

"I believe," Aragorn uttered as he paced, "that we must now choose whether to attempt to follow Frodo and Sam to Mordor, or will our presence be better served elsewhere?"

He stopped then and regarded each of the remainder of their group in turn. All knew that there was no real obligation to continue on, and yet none had even the slightest inclination to abandon what had become their duty.

"It seems to me that the young Ringbearer has chosen for us." Gimli spoke at last, his voice scratchy and gruff for he'd not spoken at all since they'd arisen almost an hour before.

"I agree," murmured Legolas, "Frodo was anxious for the welfare of the fellowship, and he saw it as his duty and his alone to destroy the Ring. Besides, they have almost a full day's travel on us. I believe that we should direct our attentions to rescuing Merry and Pippen."

As soon as Legolas mentioned the missing hobbits' names, his expression darkened, for in all that had happened, the missing pair had been of little concern, perhaps less than they ought to have been.

"Then it is settled. We shall follow the Orcs west, and rescue the brave halflings who gave so selflessly to this cause."

The indecision was suddenly gone and it infused the four with energy they had not felt for too long in their travels. They packed their supplies quickly taking only what was necessary. Legolas watched closely as Nephryn stood and moved around. It appeared that her ankle had improved overnight and she moved now without a limp. Both had spent some time that morning retrieving and repairing arrows and they now carried full quivers.

Gimli had cleaned and sharpened his axes and stood at ready now as Aragorn hefted his pack onto his shoulders and sheathed the Narsil. They departed quickly, trudging through the blood bath that had seen their number halved. As they walked, they noticed on the helms of four of the slain creatures was a rune in the shape of an 'S'.

"I have not seen these tokens before," muttered Aragorn, his voice a peculiar mix of scorn and curiosity. "What do they mean?"

"S for Sauron," Gimli exclaimed loudly, "that is easy to read!"

Aragorn had stopped and was inspecting the corpse closely for some indication of its origins.

"Nay," said Legolas, "Sauron does not use his right name, or permit that it be written or spoken. The Orcs in his service use the sign of the Red Eye."

Nephryn stood a little away from the bodies and regarded them with open fear.

"Saruman!" she whispered, and all three turned to regard her. Her face had blanched and she stared at the white markings as though they heralded a great doom.

Aragorn watched her closely for he knew, as did Legolas, that it was at the hand of the Istari that she'd suffered most and it was right that she would fear him so.

"If indeed it is Saruman," Aragorn spoke at length, " then evil is afoot at Isengard. The west is not safe as we might once have considered it so. He may well have news of our journey as Gandalf feared. We must travel quickly, and we must be cautious."

Without any further thought, Aragorn walked away and began to jog lightly. Gimli, Legolas and Nephryn followed swiftly. As the dwarf drew up alongside Aragorn, he spoke under his breath, "It will be a long chase: they have a long start."

"Yes," Aragorn replied, "we shall need all the endurance of dwarves. But come! With or without hope we will follow the trail, and woe to them if we prove the swifter. We shall make such a chase as shall be accounted a marvel among the Three Kindreds: Elves, Dwarves and Men. Forth the four hunters!"

They ran then in long loping strides that were impelled by the need to recover their lost charges from the fell creatures. They left in their wake the shores of Amon Hen, glowing in the pale dawn, having born witness to the tragedy and loss of such a group as Middle Earth had never before seen.

Short. I know. More to follow soon.

Read Teryn please…