Okay, I'm back. After a loooooooong time. Thank you all who reviewed! *Hugs*
Disclaimer: Again, I don't own Tolkien's characters. I do own Itlanor, Capt. Marduq and his peeps, and the Haraki. Oh, they're not orcs. But they have approximately the same I.Q.s.
Oh! I got the FOTR and TTT books. All I need now is ROTK. I found it on Kazaa.net along with other works by Tolkien, but there's no appendix. I haven't had a chance yet to read all the way through the trilogy. I'm halfway through TTT.
This story will be rewritten in the future, major changes and all, and posted as original fiction. Of course I won't include Tolkien's characters. And I am working on an Itlanorean language. Yay!
Chapter 2: Discussions And Decisions
"Is there no life here?" asked Shelmík. He was rowing, positioned at the front, to the right of Captain Marduq. His ocean blue eyes looked out at the deserted banks on either side of the Greyflood. Naught but a few trees passed by now and then.
"Nay. Not a soul in sight now, though they say that once, many human lifetimes ago, mighty woods stood here, upon either sides of this river. The lands south and north of here were occupied once, two provinces separated by this very river. I know not if those tales are true, and I do not quite remember everything." Answered the Captain.
"Do you know what destination we are bound for?" asked the healer, Guryn of Surym was he, sitting at the back, leaning halfway upon a staff as thin, worn and possibly old as himself. He was not old, just approaching middle age, but his appearance betrayed that. Years spent in hard work, poring over medical books and worry and care for his patients had etched a permanent frown on his forehead and bent his back, and were generally responsible for his present state. His thin grey beard hung loosely, and his eyes looked skeptically ahead, to wherever they were rowing, as if he was expecting something to attack them out of the mists that were beginning to descend upon them. "I heard these lands belonged to the Wild Men. I would be careful of our course, Captain. A forsaken place this is, it is." He muttered, eyes sliding back and forth suspiciously.
"My dear Guryn, it has been some years since then. We're safe, worry not. I had been in this part of the world once, as a boy with my uncle. Well, we were footing it to Bree, along the plains of the Minhiriath, is it called so still? Anyway, we never found any Wild Men, though we did come across a clumsy thief." The Captain replied, then paused. "However, my memory grows dim as I grow old, and I do not know how much further to the road we must take, nor how it looks. I have never sailed up this river."
"Bree." A memory returned to Ishtar. "Is that where we are going?"
"Yes, that is where I intend to take us. A town of Men and Hobbits. The nearest I can think of. If there are any others, I do not even know."
"Then I think I know the way. I traveled there with a group of merchants a year or so ago. We used this very route. It looks as though we still have a large way to go."
"But Father, we are running low on supplies." Illya said, voicing the exact thoughts that lay heavily on everyone's mind.
"My child, something will turn up." He answered, though he himself was doubting it. Surely fate could not be so cruel to save them from their country's demise only to let them perish in the wilderness? But that was him. Always trying to be optimistic for the sake of others.
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Their journey was, mercifully, safe and though supplies ran dry two days before they reached the North – South Road, the men of the group managed to hunt some coneys and gather some herbs for food along the way. Two hundred miles, several hunts, and almost four weeks later, the gates of Bree stood before the smelly, weary, grime – covered company. So it was that they came to Bree on foot; famished and worn out. Luckily, some of the jewelry they carried got them a week at The Hammer, Anvil, And Stirrup, the only other Inn in town besides The Prancing Pony, which had been full at the time. The inn they occupied was relatively cheap, and so they could even afford four horses and a fairly spacious wagon, some supplies, and suitable traveling clothes in exchange for some of their jewelry.
They seemed rather out of place among the Bree folk, with their tanned skin and generally dark features. The only one among them who seemed closest to the Bree folk was Shelmík, the peasant, with his blue eyes and ruddy hair. Somewhere down the line, it was easy to see, he had an ancestor from Middle Earth. The rest were eyed a bit suspiciously by the peoples of Bree, as they thought the newcomers resembled the people of Near Harad. They said naught and the bald innkeeper of The Hammer, Anvil, And Stirrup as well as others, was hospitable, but watched the darker folk's movements, just to be on the safe side. Rumours were circulating of such people coming in dozens to various parts of Middle Earth from the seas, and if there was some truth to them, then an odd stew indeed was brewing abroad, he thought to himself, as he served a red – haired Dwarf a second pint of ale.
He remembered that a merchant group of the same people came here not too long ago, what was it? A year? Maybe two? But they were merchants with a purpose, but these folks looked as poor as mongrels, and they looked as though a host of Barrow Wights had chased them round in circles for a year and a half.
He smiled to himself at that expression, the one his grandmother had often used, bless her soul.
"Hoy there! Master Rabryn!" a shout and a firm tug on his shirt hem brought him from his musings.
"What say you, Master Dwarf?" he looked down.
"What think you of the strangers?" the dwarf harrumphed into his thick beard.
"Methinks them harmless, Master Dwarf. They look like a mighty troubled bunch." He stated simply, wiped his hands on the apron round his waist, and returned to his post at the counter.
"Well then, keep your thoughts to yourself the way you always do. Humph. Men." He grumbled to himself, and took a swig of the ale, gave a mighty belch, and asked the innkeeper no more questions, seeing the Man wanted no talk of the matter. What news he would bring his friends. This would certainly interest them, especially the wise one that lived East of here.
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A week had passed since their arrival and it was time for them to settle somewhere for the time being, while he would send out the able – bodied men to find whatever Itlanoreans they could. He himself would go with them. As the Itlanoreans sat in the stables that grey morn they discussed the matter. All were present, except for Ishtar and the healer, who were still at breakfast.
"I have already found a place for you to stay, Regina. You and the children, and Ishtar and Guryn. It is a small hut, nothing fancy, but I will return with whatever survivors we may come across, and then matters will work out."
"You are going off." Guryn entered, Ishtar right behind him. It was a statement, not a question. A tone his father had oftentimes used with him, when he had made some mischief as a boy. "You should know not to be so hasty in making a decision. It seems Ishtar here has something she might want to tell us." He stepped to the side to reveal her. All eyes turned to her questioningly, curiosity burning in some more obviously than in others. She felt a lump form in her throat. How on sweet Arda would she explain this? She bit her already chapped lips as she always did when nervousness took over.
"Tell them what you told me." He prodded her as he would a child.
"Well, out with it, woman!" Illya couldn't hold back any longer.
"I…I…took the Forbidden Book from the temple and…and brought it here." She stammered. All eyes widened with shock, except for Guryn's who already knew it, and of course Ishaq's, who did not have a clue as to what was going on. The silence was stifling, and brought her ever closer to tears.
Argali sat down stiffly on a haystack, not believing his ears. Then the men exploded into a clamor of questions and curses. Ishaq was startled and his gentle cooing sounds turned to frightened cries.
"Regina, Illya, leave us. Take Ishaq from here, I need some peace." Marduq instructed. "Men! Silence!" he bellowed at them, the noise slowly dwindled into silence again.
"So that is why you would let no one near your bag through out the journey." He paced. He was not angry. He was hopping mad. His exterior was much too tranquil, his voice unusually low. Ishtar was mentally kicking herself in the rear. She should have kept it to herself and gone away to seek someone else's help.
"Do you have any idea how you have endangered us? Especially yourself? And my family? My wife is with child!" he threw his hands into the air exasperatedly.
"I am sorry. I didn't mean to pose a threat to anyone…"
"What were you thinking?" His glare was murderous.
"I was thinking that I could warn the people of Middle Earth. That I could save them from the same fate that belied Itlanor!" She was scared.
"How could you think such a thing? The book destroys, isn't that so?" he was puzzled, the anger slowly overthrown by curiosity. The men were forgotten now in the discussion, and they watched the exchange between the two with amusement.
"Let me tell you…" she sat down with a sigh on a nearby haystack, fear slowly leaving, She had all the right in the world to do this, and she would tell them why. " Yes, the book destroys, but it also creates. You see, there is something else to the book. By itself the book can only work dark magic, which must have been why our land was completely taken. This is what killed the mages, they couldn't handle the power, they knew not what they were doing. But with its companion, it can create; its dark side is balanced by the companion, thus making it good. This companion object we didn't have. I do not know what it is, only that it is probably somewhere in middle earth, or so I once heard my Master say to someone from the King's court, an adviser, perhaps. I have been told very little. Master never wanted me involved in the matters of the dark arts, or any such 'magic' as he knew, and I do not regret it. Instead, he taught me other things. I stayed out of his business. Of what I have been told, I only knew that I could not leave the book there to be taken by the Haraki, and that the evil that destroyed our home will not stop in its path. In evil hands, who knows what the book could do. That is why I took it with me. To warn these people, and to take the book to the elves. There I will leave it and let them take care of the matter. They are wise, they know its lore, I think. They will know what to do. I know naught of it, and my Master is not here to guide me. So I will take it to them, but first I must obtain a map of some sort, as I do not know the path to take." She bit her lips again, then added: "And I was hoping you would accompany me."
"Now I think I understand the choice you have made, but now I know not what decision I am to make." Marduq thought for a while, but he was interrupted as a deep voice spoke from the entrance.
"I know where to find who you seek, Lady." The stout bearded fellow held his breath, then spoke again. "I heard all that was said, and I choose to help because I believe such a matter will be handled by elves best." His tone clearly showed that he didn't trust them. Indeed, he didn't, but if there was truly a threat to Middle Earth, then he trusted the elves most to deal with it and wanted that book taken from these people as fast as possible. After all, he was heading in that direction himself to pay a visit to his friends.
"And who might you be, Master Dwarf?" Asali asked, eyeing him carefully.
"I am Gimli, son of Glóin. An elf friend am I."
Captain Marduq looked around, weighing their options. They could trust the dwarf, or they could await the doom of middle earth.
"I am Marduq, son of Cumyr, and the Captain and leader of these people. Where is it that these elves reside?"
"Imladris, also known as Rivendell. The Last Homely House. Elrond Peredhil is the Lord there. A wise lore master he is."
"Then on behalf of Lady Ishtar I accept your offer. Though I warn you, betray us not, or you shall regret it." The Captain turned toward his men. "My family and I shall accompany Ishtar to Imladris. The earlier plan is still on. Gather all the Itlanoreans you encounter, spread the word to all the peoples you can of the coming doom. Prepare well, we ride at noon." With these words he left to find his family.
Ishtar exhaled with relief. She got off easy.
A.N.: Okay, if you have any questions, please let me know. Please read and review! Bye!