CHAPTER THREE - ARRIVAL
Although Chrissie was still reeling from the emotional blow of sending away Duin-Shiel, she tried to hide it as best she could from the others. Although she guessed Fred knew exactly what had happened from her sympathetic glances, Mark seemed none the wiser. It was probably just as well, as soon as they met up with Kelly again, they probably would have killed each other anyway.
When they camped that night, she couldn't help thinking that he would just walk in any minute, say that he'd seen fresh prints on the path, or even just see his silent silhouette as he sat and thought on the other side of camp.
By the end of that night, she could barely remember why she'd sent him away and wished desperately she could live that hour again.
***
Kelly stood outside Edoras, under that same tree where she'd tried to mug Ordon. Last time she was here she had been so free of responsibility, unburdened and although desperate, happy. Now she was tied down with work and here in Edoras, that work would not be the kind fondly remembered.
She'd thought much whilst floating down the river. It had only been nine days since she'd spoken to Ordon and the Old Man, so with any luck he may not have told many people. All she had to do was do what she had been trained to do. Eliminate those who knew and her troubles would be over.
Yet it vexed her. Since remembering that she wasn't a psychotic killer bent on killing everyone in sight, the thought of killing someone in cold blood seemed wrong. She wouldn't have hesitated in battle, but doing it cold and not giving them a chance could prove a problem. She didn't want to prove the Old Man right by becoming a natural killer, but circumstances seemed to conspire against her.
Shaking herself slightly, she started off towards the gates. If she was going to do it, it would have to be after dark, since no one in their right mind would let anyone in through the gates wearing what she was. Karth and her had worn ordinary cloaks, but now she had nothing more than her assassin's clothes and landing up in jail again was not in her plan of action.
***
Moments after midnight, she scooted along the ground towards the nearest gate and lightly knocked on one of the guard's doors. A sleepy looking man poked his head out.
"I'm not letting the gate open for no one."
Kelly grabbed him by the throat, letting the leather hiding her tattoo loosen somewhat. His eyes widened as he recognised it.
"Open the gates two twists and no more. I will be back within the hour and expect to find it open still when I return. Cause me no trouble and you may live to see the sun rise." She hissed out.
The guard stood still looking at her for a full minute after she let him go, but obediently went and opened the gate a crack for her. Once in, she kept to the shadows.
Finding Ordon's cottage again was easy, slipping in through the window slightly more difficult, but not impossible. By the look of it, Ordon and the Old Man were smoking by the fire. How convenient.
Creeping in, she knocked Ordon over the head, watching him slump forwards. The Old Man was instantly on his feet, quicker than she would have thought for someone who looked like he did.
"What the hell are you doing here? You should be in Moria by now."
Kelly smiled. "Things have changed."
The Old Man drew a sword from the inside of his walking stick. Kelly smiled again, impressed. It was very slick. She drew her own.
"Do you know what happens to those who turn against us, Kelly? I wouldn't want that to happen to you. No, you're different than the others. But you belong with us, where people accept you."
"Cut the crap, old man, it's not going to work a second time. Who knows about the Fellowship?"
The Old Man took a step forwards, seeming to threaten her with his sword. Kelly took a step towards him and in one flick of her sword knocked his sword from his hands. Karth had taught her that.
"I'm getting bored, Old Man. Now answer!" She said, resting the blade against his neck.
"You wouldn't do that to an old man, now would you? I'm defenceless and unarmed."
"Don't try me. Tell me the names and locations of those who know or I'll cut your heart out for what you've done to me." Kelly let her voice rise in anger and let a slight tinge of madness fill her eyes.
The Old Man started to say that she wouldn't do it, but when she drew her dagger from her boot and held it pressed against his heart with the other hand, he started to sweat.
"The letters haven't left yet. Only Ordon and I knew, messengers were to be sent with the new moon." He whispered out.
Kelly twisted the sword, tracing a thin line of blood on his neck.
"Are you sure?"
"Well, there was only one other. Canetha in Minas Tirith. He came here with other news only yesterday and Ordon blabbed with his big mouth about it."
The Old Man studied her face and caught the slight hesitation as she lifted her sword towards his head.
"If you kill me, Kelly, you'll prove me right. I told you that you were a born killer and by killing an unarmed old man, you'll have crossed the line. You'll truly be one of us."
"I will never be one of you." She spat out the words. "I may wear the tattoo and masquerade with it sometimes, but I am not rotten to the core like you."
"Ahh, but you already are. I can feel in the way you stand that you have already killed and by the smudges of dried blood under your eyes, I will guess you already have a blood oath to complete. What will you do then?"
"That killing was accidental, but I will kill the Elf, in a fair and even fight." Kelly's resolve was starting to weaken.
"No killing is accidental Kelly, but I understand. Just let me down and we can talk about this. I'm sure everything will be fine."
Kelly started to let him down from her grip and backed away a few metres.
"It is alright to be a killer, Kelly. You should never stop doing what you do best." As twin daggers appeared in his hands mid sentence, Kelly cursed herself again for being so damned gullible. No longer having any hesitation, she hit him over the head with the back of her sword. Curse him and his foul tongue.
"I'm sorry Old Man, but you would have done the same."
Checking they were both still unconscious, she stoked up the small fire under the chimney, then used broken chair legs to start a blaze around the room. Soon the whole cottage was an inferno, being that the whole thing was made of wood.
On the way out she noticed a shining purple light coming from the other room. Covering her mouth with a sleeve, she ran to see what it was. A palantir lay in the centre of a table. On impulse, Kelly wrapped it in the cloth on the table and put it in the bottom of a sack. She couldn't risk leaving it here for just anyone.
Kelly burst out of the window and ran back through the night, pleased to see the guard had left the gate open for her. No doubt he would tell of her entering at dawn for the right price, so she had better make haste. Since that same guard's horse was tethered near by, she un-knotted the reins and jumped up.
She figured he owed it to her anyway.
***
Kelly rode until the horse could no longer run, then looked back west to Edoras. A bright blaze of flame licked at the sky and by the look of it several other houses had caught fire from the blaze as well.
Trying to put the images of Ordon and the Old Man burning alive out of her head, as well as the thought there could be innocent people burned as well, she looked eastwards towards Minas Tirith. It was still at least another four days ride to Minas Tirith and she needed to get there as soon as possible to dispose of this 'Canetha', before he or she told anyone else.
The palantir weighed heavily on her mind, nagging and baiting her to use it. If she could control it, she could see where this Canetha was and check on Chrissie and Fred. It could give her so much peace of mind.
Jerking her hand away from the bag, she steeled her resolve. The only person she could safely leave this with would either be Elven or Istari, and neither were in the vicinity. Until then, it would be her burden to carry.
***
Chrissie and Fred pulled their cloaks close as they wandered through the gates. Mark did the same, although less hurriedly than the others. He had not yet experienced danger as the other two had and had no reason to fear.
They had decided the night before that Fred would try and sneak into the palace and find Faramir, then use the enormous amount of persuasion she had to convince him to her will. Chrissie would try and seduce a guard away from the door so Fred could get in. Mark had been elected to remain with the horses.
Mark hadn't been happy about remaining behind, but then again there wasn't actually anything else he could do. He wished them luck as they walked up towards the palace, and hoped that they would be back soon.
***
Chrissie looked around the corner at the guard stood in front of the palace. He didn't look particularly bright, which she supposed was a good thing. There was also a weapons shed stood only metres away. She nodded at Fred and stepped out from the shadows.
Her hands were shaking as she caught the guard looking at her, so she put them behind her back.
"Are you lost miss?" The guard said politely.
Chrissie tried to look innocent. "Not anymore." She whispered as she placed her hand on his chest and ran it up to his neck.
Although the guard seemed initially shocked, he soon understood what she was saying.
"No one has visited the Stewards all week and I doubt anything would happen in an hour." He smiled and followed her eyes to the shed.
Chrissie feigned a smile, trying not to choke on the strong smell of beer on his breath. "I'm sure it won't." She murmured, as she sauntered towards the shed.
***
Fred watched the scene from the shadows; partly amazed that Chrissie had pulled it off and partly worried for her friend's safety. Hoping for the best, she quickly ran across the courtyard and slipped in through the door.
Looking around inside, there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. She heard some guards coming and hid behind the curtain, no matter how clichéd that hiding place may be.
She counted to fifty after they'd left and started to turn right when something caught her eye. A dagger incrusted with a dozen rare gemstones lay unattended on the table. Fred tried to turn herself away, but she couldn't see to stop staring at it. No one would notice it's disappearance she told herself, and if she sold that, they could feed and clothe themselves for months.
She reached forwards to the dagger and was surprised how light and natural it felt in her hands. Tucking it into her belt, she darted down the corridor, but unfortunately due to her sudden rise in self-confidence, not quite listening for danger as well as she could have. She ran straight into the belly of the Master of Arms.
He looked her up and down once, then grabbed her around the waist and dragged her kicking and screaming to the dungeon. He took back the dagger from her and slammed the door.
"Thieves lose their hands you know." He whispered through the door.
Fred sat in the middle of the floor and hoped Chrissie had fared better.
***
Chrissie stood facing the guard as he unbuttoned his sword belt. Taking a deep breath, she kneed him as hard as she could in the balls and turned to the door, hoping Fred was already inside.
The guard grabbed her shirt and hit her hard across the face, sending her flying back against the wall. She hit her head and blacked out. The guard slung her over his shoulder and walked rather stiffly back towards the doors to the palace.
"You are lucky, miss, that I am a gentleman." He mumbled to her unconscious form.
He passed the Master of Arms as he returned from the dungeon. He raised an eyebrow.
"Obviously it is a popular day for criminals." He commented as he accepted the unconscious form and walked back down to the dungeon. He opened the door and flung her in the same cell as the other prisoner. Perhaps they were working together and if they weren't, perhaps they would kill each other and save him the trouble.
He grumbled as he returned back up the stairs and soon ended up in the local tavern down the road.
Although Chrissie was still reeling from the emotional blow of sending away Duin-Shiel, she tried to hide it as best she could from the others. Although she guessed Fred knew exactly what had happened from her sympathetic glances, Mark seemed none the wiser. It was probably just as well, as soon as they met up with Kelly again, they probably would have killed each other anyway.
When they camped that night, she couldn't help thinking that he would just walk in any minute, say that he'd seen fresh prints on the path, or even just see his silent silhouette as he sat and thought on the other side of camp.
By the end of that night, she could barely remember why she'd sent him away and wished desperately she could live that hour again.
***
Kelly stood outside Edoras, under that same tree where she'd tried to mug Ordon. Last time she was here she had been so free of responsibility, unburdened and although desperate, happy. Now she was tied down with work and here in Edoras, that work would not be the kind fondly remembered.
She'd thought much whilst floating down the river. It had only been nine days since she'd spoken to Ordon and the Old Man, so with any luck he may not have told many people. All she had to do was do what she had been trained to do. Eliminate those who knew and her troubles would be over.
Yet it vexed her. Since remembering that she wasn't a psychotic killer bent on killing everyone in sight, the thought of killing someone in cold blood seemed wrong. She wouldn't have hesitated in battle, but doing it cold and not giving them a chance could prove a problem. She didn't want to prove the Old Man right by becoming a natural killer, but circumstances seemed to conspire against her.
Shaking herself slightly, she started off towards the gates. If she was going to do it, it would have to be after dark, since no one in their right mind would let anyone in through the gates wearing what she was. Karth and her had worn ordinary cloaks, but now she had nothing more than her assassin's clothes and landing up in jail again was not in her plan of action.
***
Moments after midnight, she scooted along the ground towards the nearest gate and lightly knocked on one of the guard's doors. A sleepy looking man poked his head out.
"I'm not letting the gate open for no one."
Kelly grabbed him by the throat, letting the leather hiding her tattoo loosen somewhat. His eyes widened as he recognised it.
"Open the gates two twists and no more. I will be back within the hour and expect to find it open still when I return. Cause me no trouble and you may live to see the sun rise." She hissed out.
The guard stood still looking at her for a full minute after she let him go, but obediently went and opened the gate a crack for her. Once in, she kept to the shadows.
Finding Ordon's cottage again was easy, slipping in through the window slightly more difficult, but not impossible. By the look of it, Ordon and the Old Man were smoking by the fire. How convenient.
Creeping in, she knocked Ordon over the head, watching him slump forwards. The Old Man was instantly on his feet, quicker than she would have thought for someone who looked like he did.
"What the hell are you doing here? You should be in Moria by now."
Kelly smiled. "Things have changed."
The Old Man drew a sword from the inside of his walking stick. Kelly smiled again, impressed. It was very slick. She drew her own.
"Do you know what happens to those who turn against us, Kelly? I wouldn't want that to happen to you. No, you're different than the others. But you belong with us, where people accept you."
"Cut the crap, old man, it's not going to work a second time. Who knows about the Fellowship?"
The Old Man took a step forwards, seeming to threaten her with his sword. Kelly took a step towards him and in one flick of her sword knocked his sword from his hands. Karth had taught her that.
"I'm getting bored, Old Man. Now answer!" She said, resting the blade against his neck.
"You wouldn't do that to an old man, now would you? I'm defenceless and unarmed."
"Don't try me. Tell me the names and locations of those who know or I'll cut your heart out for what you've done to me." Kelly let her voice rise in anger and let a slight tinge of madness fill her eyes.
The Old Man started to say that she wouldn't do it, but when she drew her dagger from her boot and held it pressed against his heart with the other hand, he started to sweat.
"The letters haven't left yet. Only Ordon and I knew, messengers were to be sent with the new moon." He whispered out.
Kelly twisted the sword, tracing a thin line of blood on his neck.
"Are you sure?"
"Well, there was only one other. Canetha in Minas Tirith. He came here with other news only yesterday and Ordon blabbed with his big mouth about it."
The Old Man studied her face and caught the slight hesitation as she lifted her sword towards his head.
"If you kill me, Kelly, you'll prove me right. I told you that you were a born killer and by killing an unarmed old man, you'll have crossed the line. You'll truly be one of us."
"I will never be one of you." She spat out the words. "I may wear the tattoo and masquerade with it sometimes, but I am not rotten to the core like you."
"Ahh, but you already are. I can feel in the way you stand that you have already killed and by the smudges of dried blood under your eyes, I will guess you already have a blood oath to complete. What will you do then?"
"That killing was accidental, but I will kill the Elf, in a fair and even fight." Kelly's resolve was starting to weaken.
"No killing is accidental Kelly, but I understand. Just let me down and we can talk about this. I'm sure everything will be fine."
Kelly started to let him down from her grip and backed away a few metres.
"It is alright to be a killer, Kelly. You should never stop doing what you do best." As twin daggers appeared in his hands mid sentence, Kelly cursed herself again for being so damned gullible. No longer having any hesitation, she hit him over the head with the back of her sword. Curse him and his foul tongue.
"I'm sorry Old Man, but you would have done the same."
Checking they were both still unconscious, she stoked up the small fire under the chimney, then used broken chair legs to start a blaze around the room. Soon the whole cottage was an inferno, being that the whole thing was made of wood.
On the way out she noticed a shining purple light coming from the other room. Covering her mouth with a sleeve, she ran to see what it was. A palantir lay in the centre of a table. On impulse, Kelly wrapped it in the cloth on the table and put it in the bottom of a sack. She couldn't risk leaving it here for just anyone.
Kelly burst out of the window and ran back through the night, pleased to see the guard had left the gate open for her. No doubt he would tell of her entering at dawn for the right price, so she had better make haste. Since that same guard's horse was tethered near by, she un-knotted the reins and jumped up.
She figured he owed it to her anyway.
***
Kelly rode until the horse could no longer run, then looked back west to Edoras. A bright blaze of flame licked at the sky and by the look of it several other houses had caught fire from the blaze as well.
Trying to put the images of Ordon and the Old Man burning alive out of her head, as well as the thought there could be innocent people burned as well, she looked eastwards towards Minas Tirith. It was still at least another four days ride to Minas Tirith and she needed to get there as soon as possible to dispose of this 'Canetha', before he or she told anyone else.
The palantir weighed heavily on her mind, nagging and baiting her to use it. If she could control it, she could see where this Canetha was and check on Chrissie and Fred. It could give her so much peace of mind.
Jerking her hand away from the bag, she steeled her resolve. The only person she could safely leave this with would either be Elven or Istari, and neither were in the vicinity. Until then, it would be her burden to carry.
***
Chrissie and Fred pulled their cloaks close as they wandered through the gates. Mark did the same, although less hurriedly than the others. He had not yet experienced danger as the other two had and had no reason to fear.
They had decided the night before that Fred would try and sneak into the palace and find Faramir, then use the enormous amount of persuasion she had to convince him to her will. Chrissie would try and seduce a guard away from the door so Fred could get in. Mark had been elected to remain with the horses.
Mark hadn't been happy about remaining behind, but then again there wasn't actually anything else he could do. He wished them luck as they walked up towards the palace, and hoped that they would be back soon.
***
Chrissie looked around the corner at the guard stood in front of the palace. He didn't look particularly bright, which she supposed was a good thing. There was also a weapons shed stood only metres away. She nodded at Fred and stepped out from the shadows.
Her hands were shaking as she caught the guard looking at her, so she put them behind her back.
"Are you lost miss?" The guard said politely.
Chrissie tried to look innocent. "Not anymore." She whispered as she placed her hand on his chest and ran it up to his neck.
Although the guard seemed initially shocked, he soon understood what she was saying.
"No one has visited the Stewards all week and I doubt anything would happen in an hour." He smiled and followed her eyes to the shed.
Chrissie feigned a smile, trying not to choke on the strong smell of beer on his breath. "I'm sure it won't." She murmured, as she sauntered towards the shed.
***
Fred watched the scene from the shadows; partly amazed that Chrissie had pulled it off and partly worried for her friend's safety. Hoping for the best, she quickly ran across the courtyard and slipped in through the door.
Looking around inside, there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. She heard some guards coming and hid behind the curtain, no matter how clichéd that hiding place may be.
She counted to fifty after they'd left and started to turn right when something caught her eye. A dagger incrusted with a dozen rare gemstones lay unattended on the table. Fred tried to turn herself away, but she couldn't see to stop staring at it. No one would notice it's disappearance she told herself, and if she sold that, they could feed and clothe themselves for months.
She reached forwards to the dagger and was surprised how light and natural it felt in her hands. Tucking it into her belt, she darted down the corridor, but unfortunately due to her sudden rise in self-confidence, not quite listening for danger as well as she could have. She ran straight into the belly of the Master of Arms.
He looked her up and down once, then grabbed her around the waist and dragged her kicking and screaming to the dungeon. He took back the dagger from her and slammed the door.
"Thieves lose their hands you know." He whispered through the door.
Fred sat in the middle of the floor and hoped Chrissie had fared better.
***
Chrissie stood facing the guard as he unbuttoned his sword belt. Taking a deep breath, she kneed him as hard as she could in the balls and turned to the door, hoping Fred was already inside.
The guard grabbed her shirt and hit her hard across the face, sending her flying back against the wall. She hit her head and blacked out. The guard slung her over his shoulder and walked rather stiffly back towards the doors to the palace.
"You are lucky, miss, that I am a gentleman." He mumbled to her unconscious form.
He passed the Master of Arms as he returned from the dungeon. He raised an eyebrow.
"Obviously it is a popular day for criminals." He commented as he accepted the unconscious form and walked back down to the dungeon. He opened the door and flung her in the same cell as the other prisoner. Perhaps they were working together and if they weren't, perhaps they would kill each other and save him the trouble.
He grumbled as he returned back up the stairs and soon ended up in the local tavern down the road.