Will this be the last chapter? You have to finish reading this to find out!
The great white tiger ran through the woods on his fast feet. He was following his own peculiar sense, and his very strong intuition. He would halt now and then, roaring a call. When no response came, he moved on. He would not stop until he found his master.
*************
Legolas sat silently on the edge of the bed as Gertha brushed his hair. "Such lovely hair you have, Legolas. So soft," she muttered, lovingly running the brush through Legolas's golden tresses. He gave a little smile to hear that. He was never vain. His appearance meant little to him, especially when his own identity deserted him. He wished he could remember more, but so far he could only recalled being pushed off a cliff by a great white tiger.
He was dressed in Hasmon's old shirt, which was much bigger for his lean frame. The fabric was coarser than the tunic he used to wear, but still comfortable. The leggings were quite a problem though. He had to tie a strip of cloth around the waistline to hold it in place.
"Never had I seen anyone as beautiful as you. Even the village fairest lad or maid could not compare to your beauty." Gertha kept on with the one-sided conversation.
"How far is the village?" Legolas suddenly asked, more out of politeness than the need to know.
"Oh, about three leagues away," Gertha said, delighted to hear his voice. "My husband and I live out here all by ourselves, almost twenty years now."
"Why the seclusion?"
"We're not secluding ourselves. It's just that Hasmon doesn't see eye to eye with some of the villagers, especially with the chief of the village, Bregus. There was a history between them both." She then told Legolas of Bregus's crude way in administering his fellow people. "He is very strict, sometimes downright cruel to get all that he wants."
"Then why appointed him as the chief?"
"We didn't appoint him. He appointed himself. The previous chief died mysteriously of unknown causes," Gertha spat. "Anyway, Hasmon and I are a little worried right now. We have been hearing some news about a fierce tiger killing some of the huntsmen in the woods. We rarely go to the village, not without any good reason. Who knows what we'll stumble into? It was your pure luck that we were brave enough to venture into the woods yesterday, or we would never had found you."
Legolas turned and smiled at her. "No, it was my luck that you are very kind. Other people would have just left me for dead."
Gertha beamed in pleasure. "There," she announced when she finished plaiting Legolas's hair into thin braids at both sides. "You look wonderful. But I think you'll look even better if you get some fresh air. How about a little stroll outside?"
Legolas nodded, letting Gertha took him by the hand and led him outside into the sunshine. He took a deep breath, feeling a whole lot better. Looking up to the trees, he listened and smiled when he heard them whispering. Legolas Greenleaf. Soul of the forest. Legolas Greenleaf… He closed his eyes, letting the whispers washed over him like a lover's tears.
Hasmon, who was tending to his patch of cabbages nearby, put down his tool and came near. "What is it, lad?"
Opening his eyes, Legolas turned to the man. "The trees know me." He then walked to the closest tree, putting his palm against the trunk, and drank the energy that came from within the bark. The husband and wife looked up in amazement as the leaves brushed against one another, creating wonderful sounds of their own mystical symphony.
Hasmon's earlier feelings of Legolas being extraordinary intensified in great degree. The man can't help feeling uneasy. He was very sure that something big was going to happen.
Indeed, how correct he was in that sense.
One minute Legolas looked so in tranquil in his own world, but then the next, he snapped back to attention; alarm written all over his face. He stepped back from the tree, looking at the direction of the village.
"What's wrong, dear? Are you in pain?" Gertha asked in concern. But then she heard it; the sound of rushing hoof beats. A group of horse riders was approaching, about twenty horses in all.
"Gertha. Get him inside," Hasmon ordered.
"Hasmon? What…?"
"Get Legolas inside! Now!"
Gertha asked no more. Grabbing the prince's hand, she dragged him back into the dwelling. Legolas followed without protest, but he felt so wrong for leaving Hasmon confronting the riders all by himself. He had heard the warnings in the whispers of the tree. He knew that the riders had come here for him…for a reason that he was supposed to remember.
*************
Keldarion stared at the river with unease. Involuntarily, he touched his left breast, over his aching heart. He knew that his brother was still alive; he will know if Legolas was dead. But something terrible had already befallen his brother, he was sure of it. The worse of it all was that he didn't know where Legolas was. How can I help him if I don't know where he is?
"Your highness?" Linden approached him. Keldarion turned to the guard commander. "You all ready to move on?"
"Yes, your highness. We have rested enough to carry on with our search. Shall I give orders to them to resume down stream?"
Keldarion was thoughtful for a moment. "No, not down stream."
Linden was perplexed. "Your highness?"
"We have covered more than hundred leagues. We should have found him by now. The river has calmed down; he shouldn't be swept too far away. No, I think we've missed him somewhere upstream. Gather your men, Linden. We're backtracking. And we'll make it very thorough; no signs will be left unchecked. We must move quick before the tracks get cold."
TBC….
There. You have it. It's not the last chapter. He! He!
