Thank you, my beautiful 3 reviewers, and I know that my travel times and geography, etc, are not all wonderful, although the next books are better - they improve as they go along. Again, thank you, and please stick with it.

Disclaimer: I do not own King Elessar, Queen Evenstar, Legolas, Gimli, or I suppose Eldarion.

Book I: Shadow in the North Being the first part of Heirs of the King Also known as Tales of the Gondorian Kings And After the Ring: Stories of the Heirs of Aragorn son of Arathorn

The fire was going out. Celebros threw the last of the fuel onto it and wrapped his cloak around himself. It was cold, and he would need to keep all the warmth and strength he had. Halbarad, his silver-grey horse, stamped nervously. Celebros thought he caught a glimpse of something darting through the trees; a shadowy figure, swift and dexterous. But no, it couldn't be. Some beast perhaps, or a shadow of his teenage imagination. No one was in the Greywood in March.

Except him, and his quarries.

There was a quiet in the clearing, and Halbarad whinneyed uneasily, stomping his shoed feet. Glancing into the trees, Celebros' hand snuck over to the heap where his swordbelt lay. It landed on smooth leather; his saddle, the mark of Minas Tirith embroidered into the side. He ran his fingers lightly over it. His head shook back and forth; this was not a time to be thinking of home, when there might be an enemy in the trees around him. Nonetheless he continued to stare at it and feel it. Its familiarity gave him a small degree of comfort, of safety. It would not be long before he was done with his work here. King Elessar would be expecting him in a few days now. The King, his grandfather.

A sigh escaped his lips. He was sixteen, he should not be homesick after only a couple weeks of orc-hunting without seeing them; his mother Malgil, and his father Caladin, a Guard of the City, and Eldarion his mother's older brother. Especially Eldarion. He and his parents were not very close. And the King, of course. He pulled his hand reluctantly away from the saddle and his eyes rose.

He caught another glimse of whoever it was: a tall figure, silent as the moon and the stars. An Elf? Mystified, he stared through the darkness. He had unusual good sight for a Man, not as good as that of an Elf, but still quite keen. He saw the figure stop.

Celebros crept forward, but not quietly enough. He stepped on a branch and winced; a loud crack echoed around him and into the woods. The figure spun around.

'Who are you?' Celebros asked. His voice was carefully steadied. It should have been neutral, but he kept warning and curiousity.

'What do you want?' The voice was silky, smooth, and calm. It sounded musical, like flowing water. Celebros nodded to himself. It was an Elf, beyond any doubt.

'What reason do you have not to tell me your name?'

'These are dangerous times, young one, and one cannot be certain whether anyone can be trusted. Are you of Galadon of the North, or of Gondor and its allies?'

Celebros almost laughed. 'I'm from Minas Tirith. I'm the King's grandson. I have no interest in the joining the likes of Galadon, but Gondor does not yet openly oppose him.' He didn't realize until it was out of his mouth how stupid it was to reveal his heritage.

'I see.' The elf paused, and added as if it were of little relevance, 'Galadon is my cousin.'

Celebros's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He opened his mouth, ready to defend his words. Seeing this, the elf smiled and shook her - his? Her? - head.

'I am against him. I have reason to believe he is responsible for the disappearance of my brother.'

Celebros' mouth opened in puzzlement.

'Who are you?' the Elf said suddenly. Celebros was almost sure it was a female.

'My name is Celebros. The King Elessar Telcontar is my grandfather, through my mother Malgil. My father Caladin is a Guard of the City.'

'What are you doing wandering the Wild, if you are who you say?'

'I'm hunting orcs. There are a few yet in these parts of the woods, you know. What about you?'

'My name is Cundariel. I come from the North. I am an Elf of Eryn Lasgalen, but left it when I was young. Once I lived in Imladris, but when Lord Elrond left, I went with my friends Elladan and Elrohir to the Wild. There we, too, hunted orcs. After several years, my companions left to return to Imladris. However, I did not return. It held memories of things that did not bear remembering for me. I stayed in the Wild, and have lived there now for some time. But now I have an urgent message I must carry to the King Elessar, about Galadon of the North.' She smiled, grimly but with a hint of fond remembrance of days past, although Celebros thought they were not of her cousin.

Cundariel continued. 'There are orcs in the woods, yes. I met a few today.' She looked regretful. 'I lost my throwing stars. Several escaped me.'

'You fought orcs today?' Celebros was stunned. This girl - well, woman, - was perfectly calm and unruffled, and apparently unmarked. 'Are you hurt at all? My city is close, and my grandfather a healer.'

The Elf studied him carefully.

'Do you need a place to sleep? You must be tired,' he added.

She raised her eyebrows at him and nodded, a small smile on her face. 'Sleep would be good, yes.'

It was after she had lay down on her light green cloak, after he had thought she was asleep, that he heard her murmer softly, 'Thank you, Celebros.'

+++++

Cundariel sighed. It had been nearly a year since she had spoken civilly to anyone in the Wild. Celebros seemed kind enough. But, she reminded herself, he was a Man. Lord Elrond had taught her of the weaknesses of Men. She would have to watch him and decide whether he was a worthy companion.

As a grandson of the King Elessar, she could trust him. Probably. He had the look about him, a hint in his speech of the Lady Evenstar. His good sight was what had caused her to believe him, however. He was undoubtedly part Elf, and his smile, too, had something of his grandmother about it. It was not hard to believe his identity.

She ran over in her head what she had to say to the King Elessar, and sighed. Soon she would be able to rid herself of worry and urgency.

The moon was shrouded by the clouds, and she was tired. She would sleep that night, she knew. Generally she would not, but sleeping now seemed like the better option. No moon, and the stars too were hidden.

Before falling asleep, she sighed quietly. It was better to rest than go on, she decided. 'Thank you, Celebros.'

She didn't know if he heard her, because he made no reply.

Sleep came, and drove away doubt.

+++++

Celebros awoke early the next morning after an uneasy sleep to find that the Elf was already awake. She was talking quietly to Halbarad, her voice low, but when she heard him stand she turned hastily and stopped speaking.

'Good morning,' he said awkwardly.

'Indeed,' Cundariel said softly. 'I had best leave as soon as I can, but I wanted to thank -'

'Actually,' Celebros broke in, 'if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to come with you. Do you have a horse somewhere?'

'No. He was killed by orcs a week ago.'

There was a pause, and then Celebros spoke again. 'That's unfortunate.'

Cundariel seemed suddenly embarrassed. 'My message is urgent,' she said slowly, '...could your horse bear two people?'

Celebros nodded. 'Just let me gather my things.' Hurridly he did this, but did not saddle the horse. It would be uncomfortable, and he had heard that Elves rode barebacked. Before long they were ready.

But Halbarad would not move.

'What's wrong with him?' Celebros muttered, stroking the horse's head.

'Noro lim,' Cundariel said, smiling. Halbarad leapt forward suddenly.

'What -' Celebros was puzzled.

'I told him to ride,' Cundariel said, smiling. 'He isn't used to so much weight. And -' Her smile faded, and her eyes narrowed as if she were thinking very hard. 'There are orcs near. He is frightened.'

The forest soon gave way to field, and with each hoofstep they neared Minas Tirith.

+++++

The Guard saw a young man riding up on horseback at a great speed, and did not know what to think. It was not a soldier, for he wore little armor: vambraces and a leather chest covoring. They saw, also, that there was another figure on the horse, apparently motionless.

Then they saw the face of the young rider, and the doors were flung open.

'Where is the King Elessar?' Celebros cried loudly. His voice was strong, but he was swaying in his saddle and clutching one of his arms.

'In the Hall, or last we heard,' they told him.

Without another word, Celebros turned and galloped away in the direction of the gates to the Inner City.

+++++

Celebros threw the reins of his horse to the stablehand and helped Cundariel off of Halbarad. The Elf gasped, leaning on his shoulder. He could tell she had been seriously affected by... what had attacked them? He couldn't recall. He reached the guarded doors of the Great Hall and called out urgently to the soldiers: 'Tell the King Elessar his grandson Celebros has returned, and has with him an Elf with news that he should hear.' He leaned against the wall. One of the guards - Daimar? - gave him a puzzled look.

With a surprised nod, the other guard flung open the doors and sprinted to the King Elessar. Through the open doors Celebros saw him look out and notice Celebros and Cundariel in surprise. The soldier was already telling him what Celebros had instructed.

Celebros watched the King's eyes widen slowly; he nodded and stood up, almost knocking over his chair. He walked out of the Hall in great strides to his grandson, staring gravely at him and the Elf.

'Celebros,' he said after a moment. 'Celebros, what happened?'

'We were attacked.' Celebros's voice was strained.

King Elessar shook his head, then looked up at the guards and said briskly, 'We must get them to the House of Healing. You help the Elf, please, Hordal, Daimar - I'll help Celebros. Hurry!'

Celebros felt Cundariel's weight leave his shoulder. 'I'm all right,' he said, his voice fading. He swayed and the King caught him.

'No,' he said firmly. 'You're hurt. You look exhausted, boy - How long have you been riding? Was there anything chasing you?' His grandfather frowned worridly. 'Your arm...'

'Been riding since seven,' he muttered. 'But we were attacked...'

His grandfather shook his head. 'By who? Which direction? How many? Celebros!' It would be better to fall asleep. Sleep was a good thing. Wait. A question. Why can't I sleep?

'From the Grey Wood, maybe - maybe -' He shook his head.

'The boy's in a bad way,' he heard the King's voice say as if through a mist.

'What's wrong with him?' he heard another familiar voice say. 'How did he get this way?'

'I don't know. Athelas! Hurry!'

'Yes, of course -'

Who was it?

'Yes, my Lord, here -'

Celebros felt a hand on his forehead, then a fragrant smell entered his nose. Athelas.

'What of the attackers? Have they been found?'

'No, sir. None.'

'Where did Celebros come from?'

'The Grey Wood, I should guess.'

Celebros opened his eyes and winced. The faces swiveled towards him. King Elessar, and - someone else. Do I know him? Do I?

'Celebros. What happened? Can you remember?'

Celebros took a deep breath. 'No. Why? What's wrong?'

King Elessar gave the other man a strange look. 'Your friend has taken a bad blow to her arm, but we are not sure if the blade was poisoned. But you are in almost as bad condition as she is, and we didn't find a wound. Your arm, however...it pains you, does it not?' Celebros didn't answer.

The King looked cooly at the man. 'You will please leave.'

'Yes, King Elessar,' the man said. The doors shut quietly after him.

'Where is Cundariel?' He could not help himself.

His grandfather smiled. 'Asleep in the next chamber.' His face grew suddenly grave. 'She has been injured, and there are several old wounds, but not enough to warrent the condition she is in. I am quite anxious to find out what news she has.'

Celebros nodded. The King looked suddenly to the door.

'I will come to talk to you again later,' he said quickly, and strode out of the room, leaving Celebros to wonder.

+++++

The King Elessar strode through the hall briskly, his cloak whipping behind him in the blasting wind through open windows. His head was pounding with furious questions. Questions that needed answers soon, before this became more complicated.

His head a swirling mass of uncertainties, he found himself standing in front of the door to his study. He flung open the door and immediately pulled out several scrolls of papers. Setting them carefully on the carven oak table in front of his chair, he sat down.

'Year of thirty-four-twenty-nine of the Second Age, the account of the Istari.'

His mouth twisted with memory, the King skimmed that page.

And then next one. And the next. And the next.

+++++

Celebros awoke suddenly, though he did not know why. It was dark; he must have fallen asleep again. What time was it?

A movement in the corner startled him, and then he saw the eyes looking at him, seeming to consider him. They gleamed oddly. Who had snuck into his room?

An outline appeared as the figure drew nearer. Celebros did not speak. The the face came into clearer view, and he breathed a sigh of relief. It was the King.

But it didn't look like the King. His hair was rough and untended, there was a green cloak wrapped about him, and he was not wearing his circlet. His brooch, too, was not in its usual place; instead a simple silver clasp fastened his cloak. Indeed, he looked more like a weather-worn traveler, a Ranger as he had been, than a king.

Celebros opened his mouth, but King Elessar put a finger to his lips. His face was like a mask of carved wood. Dim light made harsh shadows on his jawbone and shifted as he moved. 'Hush,' he said hoarsly. 'Your friend will be fine: I have found the answer to my riddle. I must leave for a while, for I have learned much from her. I have left orders with the Guard, but none save the your friend Cundariel, Lady Evenstar, my son Eldarion, and you know of my plans. I have but one order for you. I would have woken you, but I have been told you need sleep. You should not have driven yourself so hard yesterday, but I suppose perhaps it was necessary. Something happened that neither of you remember, something evil, before you reached the City, and it was directed at you. However, I have one thing to tell you before I leave: neither you nor Cundariel can leave the city. Cundariel can tell you what I told her.

'I shall be back in around a few weeks. I will expect to see you and the Elf then. Farewell for now, my boy!'

With a swish of his cloak and a swift smile, he was gone once more.

Celebros sat in the darkness for a moment, then blinked and pushed himself up and out of the bed. He pulled on his black riding boots and the gray hooded cloak that was on a small table beside the door. Then he opened the door and stepped uncertainly into the hall. His feet felt numb, and he swayed slightly, but stayed on his feet.

Servants rushed passed, paying no attention to him. He was, after all, not old enough to be of much significance, and was not very well known. A few looked at him in passing, muttering about how children were let wander too much these days, rather to Celebros's indignation: he was, after all, sixteen summers old, and after the age of twelve boys were allowed to become apprentices and at the age of sixteen could begin training to become a guard of the City.

However, this was soon forgotten. He began to walk in the direction of his mother's house: his father was on duty, and he hadn't seen her for weeks even before he left hunting. After the age of twelve, he'd been given his own room. He suspected Eldarion had had something to do with that, and made a mental note to thank him sometime for it. Since then, he had rarely come in contact with either parent. Neither of them made any effort whatsoever to seek him out, and he returned the favor. He knew he was something of a disappointment to his father, who had wanted an exact copy of himself. He didn't even mildly resemble his father, who was short and sturdy. He always respected Celebros' individuality, but didn't spend time with him much at all. His mother had wanted a daughter, and when he was young, she had always worried about him. Once, Celebros remembered, he had tried to ride a horse and gotten a bloody nose for his efforts. Until he got his own apartment his mother hadn't let him anywhere near the stables. Celebros would talk to his father if he saw him on guard, or if he saw his mother in the Outer City. By the time he was halfway to her house, however, he was having second thoughts. Perhaps he should see if Eldarion was about. Although he was almost thirty years Celebros's elder, Eldarion had always showed more respect to Celebros than his mother's two younger sisters. However, Eldarion was not the kind of person Celebros wanted to talk to right now. Maybe he could talk to Cundariel. King Elessar had said she was recovering, and that he was in worse condition than she was.

At the thought of his condition, he realized that he still had not eaten since he had reached the City. He headed for his own rooms, which were near those of Eldarion, should he decide he wanted to talk.

When he reached his room, he found that a servant had been in and left a meal. No doubt the King Elessar had asked it done. His grandfather had strange ways of knowing what people would do or say or think. He walked slowly into the silent second room, planning to sit in his chair by the fire and think, and perhaps talk to Cundariel or Eldarion in the morning. But someone was already sitting in the chair. It was Eldarion, and his dark eyes looked curiously into Celebros's.

'Good evening,' Eldarion said, his rich voice quiet and serious. 'Has my father left?'

'Yes,' Celebros said slowly.

'Good,' he said with a smile. 'He was planning to go east tomorrow, you know, but your situation is apparently more urgent than that of South Ithilien's. He did not tell me what was going on there, only that he was leaving. Do you know why he is headed north?'

'No,' Celebros said, slightly confused.

'I know only that he is going to the north and attempting to meet someone there.' Now Celebros was completely bewildered and quite surprised. What could the King's business be that was so urgent that he would not even tell his son? Why would he have no escort?

'I have been told that, although you do not yet know it, you have a task ahead of you, in several days when my father returns. I am to teach you some skills that may be useful, because none of the City will know of your errand.'

Celebros nodded. He had an idea what the errand might be. Eldarion put his hand firmly on Celebros's shoulder and led him out of the room.

In this part of the City Celebros was more well known, and of course nearly everyone knew Eldarion. Many people stopped what they were doing and stared at them openly. The people whispered to each other as they passed. At last Eldarion and Celebros reached a room which Celebros could not remember entering before. Eldarion smiled slightly at the look of awe on the boy's face when he opened the door. As soon as they were in, he shut the door.

It was an armory; a huge room, and on the walls and ceilings were hung swords and lances, sheilds and helms, all of great craftsmanship. All the walls were of plain stone. On one wall, hundreds of intricately shaped swords were hung, some made of shining silver, some with jewelled hilts, some large and some small. In the center of the wall, there was a plain open circle where a single small dagger was hung. An Elven verse was written around it, but Celebros' attention was pulled away from it.

On another wall was the helms and armor. There were so many different pieces, the breastplates and leather vambraces,[1] hauberks, gauntlets, visors, sabatons[2], tassets[3], and many other types. Never had Celebros seen so many kinds in one place before.

On yet another wall were the lances and horse-armor. They were plainer, although Celebros couldn't help but imagine Halbarad wearing some of these pieces.

'All right, my boy, we'll practice some sword work today. Choose one of the practice blades.' Eldarion indicated the smaller, dull swords on the opposite side of the room. He himself strode across the room and chose a light one, hefted it, then held it up.

Celebros chose a similar sword, a bit smaller. Eldarion grinned.

'Let's go out into the courtyard,' he suggested.

As they walked out, Celebros noticed the way Eldarion was walking was rather unusual: he was almost prancing. His head was up and looking straight ahead; there was a gleam in his eye. He glanced at Celebros and smiled.

'Have you had any lessons yet?' Celebros nodded. 'Some,' he said quietly. 'I know basic forms. Nothing complicated. Mother wouldn't stand for it.'

Eldarion laughed. 'I remember my first lessons with the sword. My father taught me when I was a year or two older than you. There was nothing to do then; no orcs, no enemies, and Galadon was not well known, so there was no need for me to learn quickly. He taught me how to fight, but also different moves and stances to use. I never got a blow in unless he let me.' Celebros nodded. The King was so learned in old lore and in the ways of the world that he was never predictable.

They reached the dimly lit courtyard without another word spoken. Then Eldarion turned to Celebros.

'You probably haven't learned much of the techniques I'm going to practice. If you have, stay with me. I'm going to start by showing you how to hold the sword in different styles. One handed, you use whichever one leaves you less open. Two handed, keep your dominant hand on the top. Like this, see?' Eldarion demonstrated and motioned that Celebros should copy. 'Yes, that's right. Try to block one handed first. Concentrate on the eyes. They can tell many things. Also, if you focus on your opponent's moves instead of your own, you can learn a lot.' Eldarion swung in towards Celebros's shoulder, and he brought up his blade. The impact of the swords nearly knocked him backwards. Another blow followed immediately, headed for his right side. Celebros swung his blade so that it was horizontal, completely to the right. Then Eldarion, in one swift movement, swung his sword in from the left, stopping it a few inches from Celebros's throat. It was only then that Celebros realized his mistake. He had swung the sword out so far that he had left his entire body unprotected. Eldarion looked into his eyes, then nodded.

The older man suddenly smiled. 'Try now with both hands.'

He thrust his blade swiftly to Celebros's left side. Celebros swung with all his might at the blade, knocking it aside. Eldarion used the momentum to move away, then came forwards, the blade aiming straight for Celebros's head. The younger boy almost cried out, but kept his wits and bent his knees slightly, bringing the sword up above his head, and at an slight angle to the left. Eldarion's did not slow down, and it hit Celebros's full on. It was lucky that the boy had bent his knees; had he been fully upright he would have been thrown backward onto the ground. As it was, the boy held his ground. The blades bounced off of each other. Celebros slowly sat down.

'You all right?' Eldarion asked, his voice slightly worried, but sounding amazed, if rather winded.

'Yes, I'll be fine,' Celebros said, his head spinning. He realized with some surprise that he was still holding his sword. He stood up.

'That was good.' Eldarion still sounded slightly stunned: his blade had bounced back and the flat of it had hit him on the side of the head. 'That was a sturdy block there; good work.'

'Thanks.'

'All right, now how about you try to get me now.'

'Fine.' Wavering for a moment, Celebros stood still, then began to fence. Right, right, left, right, he lost track of how many times he aimed and was blocked. Finally, he tried the strategy Eldarion had used on him: he aimed first for the right, then for the left, trying to see how it would work. Eldarion did move his body to block, but when he tried to stop the second one, Celebros's blade slipped down and hit his hand.

'Ah!' Eldarion yelped, moving backward. 'Where did that come from?'

'Sorry,' Celebros said. 'Little too vigorous, I guess...'

'No, no - it's all right. I was just surprised. That was neat work too. I think I'll start attacking you again, if you don't mind.'

'Go ahead.'

'But by the way, you shouldn't ever use an opponent's technique on him. He always has a counter to it.'

Eldarion parried and was blocked, over and over again. Finally, panting, he backed out. 'That's enough of that,' he said. 'Celebros?'

Celebros sat down again. His sword fell from his hand. As though through a mist, he saw Eldarion looking at him, asking him if he was all right. He couldn't answer. He heard Eldarion mutter an oath. His head was spinning. He felt himself being lifted up, and then everything went black.

+++++

As soon as Eldarion stopped, he saw Celebros sink to the ground. His sword had fallen from his hands. 'Celebros?' he asked. 'Are you all right? Come on, Celebros.' The boy did not answer. He looked hazily up at Eldarion. Eldarion swore loudly and hurried over to the boy, picking him up. Even as he did so, Celebros blacked out.

Hurrying along towards Celebros's rooms, Eldarion was muttering to himself angrily. The halls and streets were now deserted.

'I shouldn't have pushed him,' he said furiously out loud to no one. 'I should have stopped after the blow toward the head. He was worn out, I should have waited till morning. He's still weak, he's not well. If I was tired...why didn't he back out first?'

He reached the door of the boy's rooms and set him down on the floor to open the door. When he set him down, Celebros nearly fell over. Eldarion picked him up again and moved quickly into his bedroom. He lay Celebros gently on the bed and covered him warmly. Then he sat down in the chair next to the bed and waited.

+++++

Celebros woke up with a start and found the sun streaming in through his window. He remembered what had happened: he must have blacked out after practicing the sword with Eldarion. He turned his head.

Eldarion was sitting in the chair beside his bed, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but fast asleep. He must brought him here, then fallen asleep waiting for him to wake up, or just sitting there to make sure he was all right. Celebros smiled. He pushed himself out of his bed; to his relief his legs barely wavered at all. His cloak and boots were, once again, next to his bed. Celebros walked over to the window and looked out.

The Outer City was laid out like a map before him, for his room was high above the City. There were people in the streets. The sun was shining bright and cheerily. There was a slight breeze.

He pulled on his cloak. There was a small brooch beside it, silver with a small red gem in the center. He fastened it. He put the boots on, too. Standing up, he stomped them twice to settle his feet into them. The sound awoke Eldarion. He opened his eyes quickly and sprang to his feet, looking around wildly, his hand still on the hilt of his sword. He saw where he was, and relaxed.

'What's the time?' he asked Celebros.

'Around nine, probably,' he replied, trying not to laugh. Eldarion was stiffly looking around.

'Are you hungry? I have some food in my rooms.' Eldarion looked sharply at Celebros, as if daring him to say he wasn't.

'Yes,' Celebros said, entirely honestly. He did not want to tell Eldarion that he had actually eaten nothing in the past thirty-six hours.

'Very well. Follow me.' Eldarion walked out of the room briskly.

They did not have to go far. Celebros's room was three doors away from Eldarion's. It had been a while since he had been to see Eldarion in his apartments, though.

'Come in,' Eldarion said courteously.

His rooms were more elaborate and better furnished than Celebros's, he being the heir to the throne. The mats were of soft material, the window had a better view, and the drapes and bedding were velvet. The space was bigger, too. The furniture was made of the finest wood, and he had more of it. Celebros didn't envy him. Eldarion had spent almost all his time as a child learning about the city and the duties of royalty. Quite boring, really, as Celebros remembered from the bit of training he had got.

Awkwardly he sat down at the table while Eldarion went into the other room and got some food. It felt strange here. The window-curtains were open, and a light breeze ruffled some papers on the tables that were nearer to the window.

They ate with little ceremony, Celebros and Eldarion both trying to hide how hungry they were. After the meal, they sat by the window looking out at the City, and talked of what had happened to Celebros while he was in the Grey Wood, and what had happened in the city meanwhile.

Celebros had been gone for eighteen days. He had set out on the twenty- fifth of February, reached the Grey Wood the next day without any problems, and looked for Orcs. The third day in the wood he found an orc-knife, which he had not touched. The seventh day in the wood he had found two orcs, and had killed them both. He had found tracks the eleventh day in the wood, and then had wandered around for another few days before finding Cundariel.

Eldarion told him then what had been going on in his absence. 'On the twenty-sixth,' he said, 'Father was very withdrawn. He wouldn't talk to anyone, not even Mother. He went up into his chambers and stayed there for most of the day. I read some of his account of the War, and I think I know why. He did tell you of the Breaking of the Fellowship and Boromir's death, didn't he?'

Celebros nodded, uncertain what this had to do with anything. 'I know about as much about his journies as you do, Eldarion. You know how much he likes to tell stories.'

'The Breaking happened on Febuary the twenty-sixth.'

Celebros's eyebrows raised and his eyes widened.

'He was fairly subdued the entire time you were gone. Brooding, thinking. I think he blames himself, in part, for Boromir's death. From what Faramir told me, he was a good man. But he couldn't resist the lure of the Ring. Father did a good deal of reading in the days before you came back. I tried to speak to him, and he told me that he felt that something was drawing near. I asked him what he meant, and he didn't seem to remember saying it.

'I think something is going on, Celebros, that neither of us can fathom. I wouldn't tell you this, but I have to tell someone. If something happens I need help.'

Celebros's eyes were wide. 'What?' he whispered.

'I -' Eldarion's eyes suddenly swiveled to the door. As he did so, a knock came on the door.

Eldarion, looking exasperated, stood up and walked to the door. He opened it, and before the knocker spoke, Celebros saw his shoulders stiffen. It was a runner, designated to tell important people things in dire times.

Celebros saw the man look past Eldarion and sigh. 'Ah, good day, Eldarion. And I see you are here too, Master Celebros. That is well. I have urgent news. May I come in? It is best if as few as possible hear...'

Eldarion moved aside and motioned the man in, then shut the door quickly.

'My news regards the King Elessar. You know that he set out in great haste last night. Not long ago, the King's horse came back to the City gates in a panic, bearing all the King's goods but not the King. It is not believed that they got more than a few hours beyond the edge of Pelennor Fields.

'Good day, again. I know nothing else and vow to tell no one what I have been told.' The man finished the formalities and strode past Eldarion, who quickly opened the door for him and watched him go out it. He shut the door more slowly, and did not take his hand from the handle. Celebros saw his eyes, staring at the floor, his head bowed. He walked over to Eldarion and put his hand on his still outstretched arm. Eldarion looked down at him with wide eyes, tenser and more worried than Celebros had ever seen him.

'What do we do?' he asked quietly.

+++++

Cundariel awoke, immediately alert. It was dark already. She was aware that someone else was watching her. Slowly, she sat up and looked into the corner.

A Man with dark eyes sat there, regarding her cooly. She saw that he was wearing a dark, weather-stained green cloak with a plain silver clasp. His hair was dark brown and untidy. 'How are you?' he asked with a hint of a smile. 'My grandson tells me you've had a rather rough time.'

'You're the King Elessar?' she asked, and though it was posed as a question it was more of a statement. The man nodded.

'Where is Celebros?' The question was simple, but she had not intended to say it.

'In the next room, asleep. Do you remember what happened this morning, when you were riding?'

'There was a sound,' she said slowly, 'and Celebros turned around and yelled something, but then - I do not remember. I sensed something, something old but familiar, but then I cannot remember what happened.'

'They were after Celebros,' he said calmly, 'and something happened. He is unmarked, but entered the City in a state of panic and confusion. He was exhausted.'

Cundariel remained silent.

'Celebros tells me you know Elladan and Elrohir.'

She nodded, still silent.

'Tell me of the North. I must travel. I have an urgent errand.'

Slowly, she began to speak, her voice unsteady.

And things began to make sense.

+++++

Eldarion looked to the left, then the right. 'Now,' he whispered. He and Celebros darted into the stable.

'Why can't anyone see us?' Eldarion asked quietly.

'The King Elessar left orders with the guard and others that I was not to leave the City.'

'Oh. I wish...' Eldarion began worridly, and shook his head. 'I should not disobey Father's orders.'

'I think maybe he'll understand,' Celebros snorted softly. 'Here he is.'

'This is a good horse,' Eldarion said, slightly louder than he should have. 'My father gave this to you? What is his name?'

'His name is Halbarad. The King named it.'

Eldarion laughed halfheartedly. Seeing Celebros's blank look, he explained. 'Halbarad is a great Man, a Ranger. He went with Father on the Paths of the Dead, with Elladan and Elrohir, and Legolas and Gimli, and the rest.'

Celebros nodded thoughtfully, but his mind was on other things.

'What do you think happened, Eldarion?' Eldarion's face grew grave.

'The best I can hope for is that Father was resting when he was approached with orcs from the Grey Wood, and escaped, but his horse fled.'

'I hope so. Or that the horse was merely frightened by something else.'

'That is doubtful,' Eldarion said, his eyes unhopeful. 'I fear the worst. I fear he has been taken.'

'Oh, Eldarion, don't give up hope,' Celebros whispered. 'Let's go soon! Have you a horse in these stables?'

'I have two. Carsel, the grey over yonder, and Aredhil, the bay there. Which looks swifter to you? I am tired and worried, so I will leave the choice to you.'

'Aredhil.'

'Very well. Let us go. Cover your face.'

'Where will we stop in the City?'

'The armory I showed you last night, and the pantry. Then the empty barracks for blankets. Can you think of anywhere else?'

+++++

The armory was dark and silent. Celebros looked around, squinting, as Eldarion chose a blade. The young Man was more careful in his choice than Eldarion. He stared around, and again the dagger hanging in the center of the wall caught his eye. Eldarion hefted a sword and sheathed it, buckling it to his belt.

Celebros stood still a moment, staring at it. For something so ordinary, it seemed to have some importance. Perhaps it was enchanted. He tried to take a step forward to examine the carvings circling it, but instead found himself staring at it. A pattern of vines twisted its way about the hilt. The blade glimmered, reflecting light in Celebros' eye.

Finally he broke free of his invisible bindings, the mental block that had held him in place, and took a slow, stiff step toward the dagger, and then another. He couldn't read the carvings. It was too dark. It didn't matter. He had to hold it. He had to...touch it. To know that it was real. He reached up, up forever, slowly, staring with glittering eyes at his dagger. His dagger. It had to be his now.

'Celebros!' Eldarion shouted suddenly. 'Don't touch it!'

He broke out of his trance and staggered backwards. 'What?'

'Don't touch that dagger. It's enchanted. Don't touch it, don't even look at it. Couldn't you tell something was wrong with it?'

Celebros shook his head. 'I just felt like I had to have it. I...I'm not sure. That was...strange...'

'I've never heard of it actually Calling to someone,' Eldarion said. The way he said Calling made Celebros sure it was a capital C. 'That's strange. I'll have to talk about that with my father. I don't like that.'

Celebros squinted again at the writing around the blade.

'Though small and plain we know it seems

This blade did bring him to his dreams:

The hopes and loves of his own heart

Unlocked they tore his soul apart

If any should pass by this knife

Be warned: its price may be your life.'

+++++

Very strange they looked, two tall hooded figures leading horses through the streets of the City with bundles. Both wore fine riding-boots of the best leather, and with steel tips. Yet their garment was unkempt and they hurried greatly. Also, to the surprise of many, their horses wore no saddles. Again, people stopped to point and stare. At last, near nightfall, they set out.

But in their hurry, they did not notice the other figure that rode behind. The figure's horse was a dark brown, and rode without a saddle, in Elven fashion.

+++++

The King Elessar rode out of the City in silence. His horse was lightfooted, but nervous. As soon as he passed the limits of the City, he cast off his hood. His hair shone in the moonlight. His dark eyes glimmered. No one had questioned his identity. All was as he had hoped, although he would have to have strict words with the guards when he returned. Security was lax. Galadon himself could have walked in and out, hooded and unnoticed.

He slowed his horse, checked it, and looked back at the City for a moment. He would have be careful. He was forgetting what it was like to ride alone. It had been long years since he had done so. He had an escort at most times, and seldom rode without Eldarion. Once he had taken Celebros to the edge of Pelennor Fields.

He rode on at a good pace. There was a long way yet to go, and he would not want to tire his horse. There was no need of great haste, as of yet. He would rest when he reached the edge of the Fields. Then he would head on again.

He reached the edge of the Fields in good time, and took a break as he had planned. The Moon was setting. There was nothing in sight.

His horse pawed the ground uncertainly. It was more uneasy than it should be. Likely he was right in guessing that there were foul cratures in these parts still.

There he sat for nearly an hour. A nighthawk screeched loudly. The horse was getting more and more uneasy. He looked over over the surrounding land. There. His eyes narrowed. Movement in the trees.

A foul screeching filled the air from all directions. Orcs.

His horse snorted loudly. A crouching figure approached it. He sprang at in, Anduril leapt to his hand, but too late. The horse bolted.

The King bit back an oath. Why had he waited?

Anduril gleamed a bitter white in the gloom around him.

A stone came from behind and struck him sharply in the head. This time he did not bother to bite back the oath. He whirled around, Anduril before him gleaming with its unnatural brightness. The lines closed in, and Anduril began its haunting dance; the music being the eerie clash of blade against blade and the screams of the dying orcs.

His blade swung around with the swiftness of a bolt of lightning, darting everywhere and finding orc-flesh all around him. The haunting tune filling the air became noisier as the dance of the white blade quickened.

Blows came at him from every direction. There were many orcs, twenty at least, but not so many that he could not defeat them in due time. They were black and ugly, and good-sized, but their swordwork was quite poor.

It wasn't complicated enough, he thought as Anduril found another orc's neck. Where did these come from? Surely there were more than this? Not that he wanted more, of course, but any force would have more than this.

Unless they were renegades.

Unless they were just the beginning.

Unless most of them had been killed by a skilled hunter.

Unless this was the group Celebros had been after.

Unless they had been given powers by Galadon, as the rumors said.

Unless this was what had tried to kill his grandson.

An orc darted toward his right side with a shining steel dagger gripped tight in his hand. The knife came spinning towards him. With little effort, the King swung Anduril at it. It hit it aside, but the momentum carried him through. The sword stuck the ground and buried its tip deep. Wrenching it out, he wavered, off balance, and the remaining orcs flew at him from the left. He swung himself back, beheading the first creature, but as he did so he knew he had been too late. A thin pain pierced his leg. The remaining beasts hooted in delight. The pale blade had punctured his calf. With a roar, he leapt forward, pain nearly overtaking him. The second orc was impaled on his blade, and seeing his fury the rest fled.

The world began to fade. He had to stop the blood flow. He had to bandage the wound. He had cloth on his horse -

On the horse. He let out his breath in a hiss. The horse was gone. He felt himself slipping under. No, no, his mind thought, but a stronger voice was snarling in his ear yes. He took a breath, and another, knowing each breath meant one more waking moment. He focused on the pain.

A sharp sensation shot through him, and he winced. Now he was awake.

Looking down at his cloak, which was frayed at the edges from the previous years of wear, he realized that it was a good thing he had decided to wear less fine clothing.

+++++

Eldarion turned back to Celebros. The horse was lagging slightly, and the boy was blinking off sleep. 'Where are we?' he asked Eldarion, trying to hide a yawn.

'We may reach the edge of Pelennor Fields by morning, if we keep riding, but I think we will have to stop. Are you tired?'

Looking startled, Celebros slowly brought his head up to meet Eldarion's gaze. 'Yes,' he said quietly. 'Let's hurry up. By morning all trace could be gone.'

Eldarion looked at him, his eyes sparkling. Celebros reminded him of himself in his youth sometimes.

Celebros tapped his horse's head. 'Noro lim,' he said softly. Halbarad began to ride, rather faster than he had intended.

Eldarion reined his horse up beside Celebros'. He touched Halbarad's neck and the horse stopped. Celebros looked at him once more. Eldarion's face was both confused and astonished.

'What did you say to the horse?' he demanded, startled.

'Noro lim,' Celebros said slowly. 'I said -'

'Where did you learn that?'

'I heard Cundariel say it.'

'The Elf...' Eldarion was no longer addressing him, he realized. 'Elves have some power over horses, and I knew it was with words, but... I've never heard of a Man having that kind of control. I suppose because we're part Elven, because of Mother...'

'Hadn't we better get going?' Celebros asked anxiously.

'Yes. Yes, of course.'

Eldarion rode on swiftly, but for a moment Celebros stood still. He looked at Halbarad uncertainly.

'Noro lim,' he whispered.

Halbarad sprang forward, a whir of silver. They were on the hunt.

+++++

The King shifted slightly, his back against the rough tree bark. He was used to the velvet seats of the City, but all he could do was wait. His leg was badly injured; he could not walk. If his horse made it back to the City, someone would come.

But no one knew where exactly he was.

This, he realized, had been a mistake. He could have told Eldarion. His son would say nothing.

If his horse did not make it back to the City, then they would send out teams. But it would be a while. And all his food had been on it.

Suddenly, there was a rustling noise in the trees behind him. He twisted his head around and reached for Anduril. The bush on his left was moving, as if something large was behind it. A grunt issued from the bush, and a small orc stumbled out from behind it.

Anduril was already out of his sheath, but the orc was out of his reach. The miserable creature looked at him questioningly.

'Who you?' it said in slurred Numenorean.

He was so taken aback that for a moment he did not answer, just stared. 'What do you want?' he said softly, dangerously.

'I want nothing. I Snaga. I been driven out. They say I bad. I killed others.'

'You killed other orcs?' His grip on Anduril tightened. This orc was obviously more dangerous than he seemed.

'I did,' Snaga said, looking, not ashamed, but almost proud, wilful. 'I didn't like them. They hurt Snaga, and he - he - I run away. The Big Ones, they hurt. I don't like them. They not nice. No one nice.'

'I do not have any tolerance with orcs,' he said harshly. 'Go! My blade has bitten more orcs than yours.'

'I no go. I tired, I hurt. You hurt too?'

The King gritted his teeth. He hesitated slightly. 'Yes,' he said at last. 'I was attacked by orcs.'

'What they look like? Big, black?'

'The ones I killed are over there.' He pointed to the site of the bodies, about ten yards away.

Snaga crept over to the bodies, and seeing the one who had stabbed Elessar, he recoiled fearfully. Turning around, he asked quietly, 'They all dead? Not asleep?'

'All dead.'

The small thing leapt up on his feet, shreiking wildly - in glee, he realized. The thing was happy.

'Dead,' he announced, calming down and creeping back towards the King. He reminded King Elessar eerily of Gollum.

'You knew them? Do you know the skill of the weapons they carried? The foul things stabbed me with it.'

'Stab you?' The orc's huge eyes grew even larger, glinting yellow. 'Hurt you with knife? Where? Where they cut you?'

'My leg.' The orc scrambled forward, but King Elessar held out Anduril. 'Don't come nearer,' he warned. 'How do I know you won't kill me? I've never met a trustworthy orc, nor one that doesn't try to trick and decieve Men.'

Snaga thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Then his green eyes lit up and he held out something in his hand. It was part of an orc-scalp.

'So how do I know you killed him? You could have scalped a dead one.'

'Snaga show you. See knife marks? Here my knife. They same.'

The King looked and saw that it was indeed true. The patterns on the scalp of the orc matched the knife blade. He gave in. He could not hold off this orc forever, but if Snaga's story was true, he would not want to kill the thing. It might have useful information. He sheathed Anduril and watched the creature warily.

Snaga bent over his leg, careful not to touch it. 'Could Snaga see the wound?'

'Why? It was that accursed orc's knife that cut it. The wound is not yet closed, and already I have lost too much blood. I do not wish to lose any more.'

'Yes, Snaga sees why. Why you out alone? What your name?'

The King considered this. 'For the present, call me Strider,' he said at last. 'It is a name I used to use. I was on my way from Minas Tirith to meet someone. My horse bolted when the orcs drew near.'

'Will Men come looking?'

'They may. If the horse returns to the City, I have friends that will come, yes.'

'You walk?'

'I can't. My leg is badly injured, and will not support my weight.'

'What if I find horse? Some horses round here.'

'Steal a horse? No.'

'No steal. Wild horses. Men can tame horses.'

'Some can.'

'Can you?'

He paused a moment. 'Yes. But will a horse follow you?'

'I chase it.' The orc ran off, surprisingly fast and nimble.

He leaned back against the tree, bewildered. Snaga was an orc. And he was, apparently, not evil. They were bred to be evil. But then, he remebered grimly, Elves were made to be good, and Galadon had gone bad.

This reminded him of his mission. What were Elladan and Elrohir going to say when they came to the Woodland Realm, to Eryn Lasgalen, and found that he was not there? He would, of course, have to send word.

He was beginning to wonder who he could send when a rumbling noise reached his ears. It was not very loud. Snaga must have found a horse.

Indeed, even while he was thinking this, a beautiful brown stallion burst into sight, Snaga right behind it. The King held up his hand, and the horse and Snaga stopped. Snaga stepped forward (the horse stepped out of his way) and, with what might have been the shadow of a smile and was certainly utter satisfaction, said, 'Horse.'

'Thank you. Can you help me? I need to get up, but I can't put any pressure on my leg.'

The orc considered for a few seconds. 'Snaga help,' he said finally. 'How Snaga help you?'

'Could you get the horse a little closer, and then help me stand?'

'Yes.'

He touched the horse's flank, and it immediately moved towards the King. Then Snaga hesitantly walked forward and stood in front of him for a moment. Slowly, uncertainly, he put his hand forward.

King Elessar took it without hesitation, pulling himself to his feet, and then, dignity lost, nearly fell to the ground again. Snaga snatched his hand. The orc's skin was wrinkled and grimy, but his grip was firm. He looked the King in the eyes as he pulled him to his feet once more. He swayed, his head spinning, and grabbed Snaga's forearm with an equally firm grip. Snaga winced and almost shrunk away, then caught himself.

The King staggered over to the horse, swinging up his bad leg first. It hit the other side of the horse with a thud, and he winced, drawing in his breath sharply.

'What will you do, Snaga?'

Snaga looked puzzled. 'Snaga doesn't know,' he admitted, shaking his head.

'Do you think the horse will hold you?'

'Snaga doesn't know,' the orc repeated.

'Try to get up behind me.'

Snaga looked doubtful. 'Men no like orcs. Men will not let me into city, not unless King says so. King won't believe. Is King nice, Strider?'

Elessar smiled. 'I think he is. He will let you in.'

'What his name?'

'King Elessar.'

'What it mean?'

'Elfstone.'

'Elfstone. Nice name. I come.' Snaga looked uncertainly at the horse. 'How I get on? I no ride horse before.'

'Take my arm and put your legs on either side.'

Snaga clumsily did so. The horse shifted slightly, but did not do anything.

The King leaned forward and whispered in the horse's large ear. It cantered forward, turned, and headed in the direction of Minas Tirith.

+++++

Celebros looked behind him. The figure was nowhere in sight. But it had been there.

Eldarion was asleep. They had had to a take rest, for their horses had been slowing down after three hours of riding. It was perhaps two in the morning. He was on watch. He had seen the figure twice now. He was beginning to wonder if he should tell Eldarion about it.

He sat in thought for a moment, then turned around, toward Eldarion. He was the elder, he should decide what to do.

A figure flitted across Celebros' line of vision, and he whipped about, fumbling for his sword. This felt unusual, for he was not used to being in this sort of situation and having a sword. He had used daggers and knives, and occasionally a bow, but only once had he used a sword, and then he had almost been defeated and had been forced to resort to his bow, for he had never been trained in sword-fighting well.

As quickly as the figure appeared, it was gone. He had caught but a glimse of whoever it was, only enough to tell it was not an orc: it was too tall.

Looking sharply around, he backed over to Eldarion. Celebros shook his shoulder slightly, and Eldarion blinked once. 'What is it? Is it my turn?'

'Not yet,' whispered Celebros quickly. 'There's something out there: I've seen a figure three times. Maybe a large orc, but somehow I don't think so.'

Eldarion hissed softly. 'Where?'

'Last time I saw it, over there.' Celebros pointed in the direction he had seen the figure. His eyes alert, Eldarion crept away. He was swallowed up in the darkness.

A moment later, he came back. 'You're right,' he said grimly. 'There's something there. I saw it. Not being too careful. I don't think it means harm.' Suddenly, he whipped around and grabbed at the darkness. He caught something, and whatever it was, it didn't struggle. He pulled it roughly into the dim moonlight. It was tall, and had on a dark grey cloak. Eldarion laughed and released the figure. Then the person pushed back his or her hood. Celebros sighed. It was Cundariel, and she was smiling wryly. She turned and whistled softly, and a brown horse came up behind her, nosing her ear. She whispered something to it, and it moved aside.

'Hello,' she said indifferently, idly rubbing the horse's side. The horse backed away. She looked calmly at the two of them.

'I never miss a hunt,' she said cooly. 'I can track and navigate, and read prints. In addition to that, I can speak seven languages.'

Eldarion nodded, looking slightly surprised. 'Well,' he said, 'it looks as if there is hope, then.'

'Indeed there is,' she said. 'I must go back to my camp and bring my things. It is ten minutes' ride away.'

She leapt onto her horse and rode into the night. The sound of hooves slowly faded. Eldarion sighed and shut his eyes. 'I'll go on watch, my boy. Do you have a guess to the time?'

'I would say it is near to half past two.'

'Good. I'll watch while you get some sleep. I'll wake you in three hours; we will ride with the dawn. It is urgent we find Father soon. I still fear for his safety.'

Celebros lay down on the ground, using the blanket as a pillow, and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

+++++

The horse Snaga had found was a good one, in good shape and well fed. It rode smoothly, but the orc was still quite uneasy. He held onto the King's back, and every time there was a bump, he jumped. King Elessar caught some of his muttering.

'Snaga will be good. Snaga stay on horse. Strider nice. He no let Snaga fall. Horse good. Man tamed horse. Horse no buck Snaga. Snaga, Snaga doesn't like horse, but Snaga must help Strider. Strider say King nice. Maybe Snaga get to go in City. Snaga will stay on horse.'

He was less at ease as Gimli had been the first time he had ridden a horse, with Legolas. And that, he reminded himself, was saying something.

Legolas. Perhaps he could find Legolas and ask him to go to Eryn Lasgalen. He knew Elladan and Elrohir, and the Woodland Realm, was, of course, his home, and that of Thranduil his father. And he could trust him. He wasn't doing anything else, as far as the King knew. It might take a few days to find him; he was off in Rohan, or Lothlorien, or somewhere with Gimli again. Gimli would undoubtedly go with him, although he might not be pleased, nor Elladan and Elrohir.

A bump brought his attention back to traveling. Snaga had fallen silent. They had now been riding for perhaps an hour.

The horse bumped again, nearly bucking them both off. Snaga let out a squeal. The orc reminded him too much of Gollum.

'Do you want to stop for a while, Snaga?' he asked over the rush of hooves. The horse was well-rested, too.

'Snaga would like that,' the orc replied with absolutely no hesitation.

The King pulled back on the reins, and the horse reared slightly, knocking Snaga off. He landed indignantly on his rear. King Elessar remained unmoved, and the horse calmed and came back down. He tried to gracefully dismount, forgetting his injured leg. His leg buckled, and he stumbled. Snaga leapt forward to help him, but he steadied himself and sat down.

'Is Strider noble? Is he of a house?'

'Telcontar,' he replied offhandedly.

'What that?'

'Strider,' he replied without hesitation, then froze. Even Snaga would know that usually only Kings had houses named after them.

Snaga's eyes widened. 'You have house named after you? You important Man?'

'Yes,' he said resignedly.

'Strider is strange name,' the orc said, now suspicious. 'It not Elven.'

'No. It is not my real name, but a hunter's name. I was a Ranger of the North.'

Snaga looked askance at him. 'Rangers not nice. Not to Snaga.'

'Rangers generally don't like orcs. However, I have made an exception, I believe. You are not like an orc, Snaga. Orcs are not kind. They are cruel, merciless, and unfeeling. But you are not.'

'Snaga wish he wasn't orc. Snaga hates orcs.'

The King smiled at him. 'That is good,' he said softly. 'If you trusted orcs, or had no dislike for them, then I would dislike you. Even were you a Man, I might not trust you, for Men can be decieving. But most orcs haven't the intelligence to trick a Man. I have seen it in your eyes: you speak the truth. Men can hide their emotions. It is much harder for an orc to do so, and his eyes always give him away. You are lucky to be an orc. No, I do not believe lucky is the word. It has not turned out any the worse for you being what you are.'

Snaga closed his eyes and nodded. 'You are right,' he said, for the first time his Numenorean was clear and strong. 'Let us go on. I wish to see your city.'

And so they remounted and rode slowly on.

+++++

Celebros awoke and saw Eldarion's face swimming before him. His eyes cleared, and he sat up. 'Time to go?' he asked. The horses stood ready, he saw, and Cundariel was packing hers. She did not have much. A sack or two, that was all. Celebros stood and picked up his blanket and small bag. Everything else was already loaded on the horses.

Eldarion mounted swiftly and sat pensieve. He waited impatietly for Celebros to clamber on, then the three rode off into the thick fog that covered the morning's sound.

By seven, they had reached the edge of Pelennor Field and the dawn's first light was breaking the horizon. There were still scattered patches of fog.

They found a set of horse-prints in the dirt, and many orc-feet had trampled over it. Eldarion was biting his lip so hard Celebros thought he saw a small trickle of blood running from his lower lip. He had never seen him so nervous, so anxious.

They stopped for a break to eat, then rode on once again, three horsed figures in the gloom of the morning. The sun shone bright by the time they found anything more.

+++++

The King looked around warily. The fog was fading: it was nearly seven. 'All right,' he muttered. They had stopped again, giving Snaga time to rest. The orc had fallen asleep while riding and almost fallen off the horse. King Elessar was not sure if orcs normally slept or if they just continued day and night, but he did know that Snaga was unusual in more than one way.

They were in a cave about ten minutes' ride from Pelennor Field. Snaga was still asleep, and he had decided to stay here for a while. It was probably the last chance they would have for a rest until they reached the City.

He sat on the ground in front of the small cave, in the sunlight. He tore several more strips of the cloak off, from the bottom, and quickly took off the old bandage. The wound was closing, but ugly. The area around it was swollen and reddened, and it was deep. He wound the new bandage around it and wrapped the frayed, too-short cloak around his shoulders. The gash was quite painful.

He had not been able to find any kingsfoil, unable to walk well enough, and Snaga did not know what it was. He had also not been able to cleanse it, for his water was gone. His throat was dry, and he was quite hungry.

Also he was tired. He sat and thought wistfully of the soft beds in the City.

When Snaga awoke twenty minutes later, he found 'Strider' fast asleep against the rock. Knowing the Man was hungry, the orc crept away to look for Man-food.

+++++

Eldarion shook his head at the discoveries, and Celebros saw that his whole body was tense. The King's son turned around, and Celebros saw he had his head in his hands, and his shoulders were shaking slightly.

Celebros turned around and looked back at the signs.

A great many orc-bodies lay strewn about the small clearing. There were also many orc prints. There were the footprints of two horses: the King's and one which was wild.

A bloodstained orc knife lay on the ground next to a very fierce, very dead orc. There were orc-prints running away, a sword-mark in the ground, and then staggering steps of one in pain to the trunk of a tree. A Man's blood was shed around these tracks. The Man had then sat down heavily. Then an orc had approached, one small orc and a horse.

The Man had been lifted to his feet and put onto the horse. The orc had climbed up also, and the horse had rode off.

Celebros turned back to look at Eldarion. His sword was out, he was holding it tight in his gloved hand. Eldarion glanced up at the two of them, sheathed his sword, and growled, 'Let's continue.'

He jumped onto his horse and turned it riding off.

Cundariel glanced at Celebros, who had a wry smile on. The left side of his mouth was almost in a smirk. It looked odd.

They leapt on their horses and followed.

+++++

It was nearly eleven when they reached a place where it appeared the horse had stopped and the orc and the Man had gotten off. Neither sat down, though the Man stumbled dismounting.

Eldarion looking at the place where his father had stumbled winced. The King was a strong man, it must be an ugly injury indeed to make him stagger so much.

They rode on, and before long came to a small cave.

The King Elessar was slumped against the wall, and sitting in front of him was a very small orc.

It looked up as they rode hurridly towards it. To their surprise, it stood, bowed, and asked in halting Numenorean, 'You friends of Strider?'

'Move aside,' snarled Eldarion.

'Strider my friend, but he stabbed. Orcs hurt him. He asleep. He tired, hungry. You help him? You of his city?'

Eldarion's sword was before him, and Celebros could see he was ready to spring.

'My father,' Eldarion growled, 'would never befriend a dirty vermin like you! Do not try to stall us, orc.'

'My name Snaga,' the orc said quietly.

'Step aside!'

Slowly, Snaga stepped out of the way. Dropping his sword, Eldarion ran forward to the King.

'Father!'

Slowly, the King Elessar's eyes opened.

'Eldarion! I was wondering whether - did the horse return? How long have I been asleep, Snaga?' he called over Eldarion's shoulder at the orc. Eldarion, looking staggered, stared at the orc, then his father. The orc had a small grin on his face.

'Three hours, Strider.'

The King tried to stand, stumbled, and fell on his knees with a weak groan. Eldarion caught him and set him back against the wall. 'Celebros, do you still have the athelas?' he asked quickly. Celebros took out two wrapped leaves. Eldarion took them and, looking at Snaga, began to unwrap the wound. He hissed when he saw it. He applied the athelas, and a spasm of pain flashed across the King's face.

'King Elessar, are you all right?' Cundariel asked. Snaga gave a sudden violent start and stared at 'Strider', his mouth hanging open.

The small creature came over to Celebros, who was watching Eldarion tend the wound. He pulled on the boy's sleeve. Celebros turned around, eyeing the orc. 'Strider King?' he whispered his eyes huge.

'Of course. Are you really his friend? I have never met a polite orc, or one concerned in doing anything with Men but torturing and killing them.'

'Snaga hates orcs.' It really looked like it too, with the word 'orc' his nose had wrinkled in distaste. 'I friend. I nice. But he no tell me he king. King of City? Of Gondor? King of what?'

'He is the King of the Reunited Kingdom, Lord of the Lands of the West, the Heir of Isildur Elendil's son. You know who Isildur was?'

'He took ring. He fool. Ring supposed to be destroyed. My old master, he say ring would make orcs powerful. I no want orcs be powerful. I hate orcs.'

'The Ring was destroyed,' Celebros said, puzzled. Surely an orc would know that?

But as he said it, he could see it was news to the orc. Snaga's eyes were huge, and he gazed toward the East.

'When ring destroyed? Great Eye gone?'

'Gone forever. A halfling bore it, and nearly fifty years ago he took it, endangering his own life by agreeing to do so, and destroyed it.'

'Fifty year?' Snaga breathed. 'It gone? What halfling? What he name?'

'A Halfling is a small creature, lives in a land called the Shire in the North and West. Furry feet, about four feet tall. Four Halflings, two Men - including the King Elessar, my grandfather, and the previous Steward of Gondor's son Boromir, who died along the quest - an Elf of Mirkwood, a Dwarf, and one of the Istari - they went to Rivendell, the House of Lord Elrond, and were chosen to go on a quest to destroy the Ring, which one of the Halflings, Frodo Baggins, had inherited. Frodo and his servant Samwise Gamgee split from the Company and went to Mordor and destroyed the Ring. You mean you were never told? The orcs were never informed?'

Snaga shook his head vigorously, his eyes awed. 'No one ever told Snaga - they never said to me about it.' Celebros looked up. The King Elessar was still sitting up against the wall, and Eldarion was doing something with his leg. The King was groaning, and Celebros could tell he was in pain.

'There!' Eldarion gasped, holding up a small splinter of metal. The King let out a stifled moan and his eyes flickered closed again, unconcious. Eldarion drew a long breath. He quickly wrapped the stab-wound again, for it had started to bleed once more. 'Celebros, can you help me? Which horse can carry the most weight?'

While Celebros was still studying the horses as if puzzled, Snaga looked at the four horses. He pointed to the one by the trees which he and the King had ridden.

'That one? Are you sure?'

Snaga nodded.

Eldarion and Celebros set the limp form of the King Elessar onto the horse. Eldarion climbed up behind him.

'You,' Eldarion said, pointing to the orc, who nodded. 'Can you ride that one?' He pointed at his horse. Snaga looked sadly at it and shook his head.

'Horse no like orc. Snaga too small, but horse would not carry him without another rider, a Man.'

Cundariel looked at Eldarion. 'I can tell the horse to follow us. It will obey.'

'All right. Snaga, what will you do?'

'Snaga doesn't know,' the orc said, shaking his head vigorously.

'Cundariel, could you -'

'I apologize, but I will not ride with an orc,' she said firmly.

'He can ride with me,' Celebros said. He would like a chance to find out what had happened so that the King would trust an orc, and an orc would be friendly to Men.

Snaga clambered awkwardly up behind Celebros. Celebros made sure he was seated well, then whispered to Halbarad: 'Noro lim.'

+++++

'My King Elessar, the wound was made by an orc-knife, but, luckily, not a cursed blade. It was fairly deep, but the bleeding was stopped well. The main problem was that the bandages were not very clean. Therefore, since it was not washed, the wound may become infected. This will cause inflammation. If you find this happening, you must immediately return to this House. Until then, there is nothing more I can do. I dare not try to clean it any more than I have, for that could reopen the wound, and you have lost far too much blood already.'

The monotonous voice drilled into Eldarion, but he could tell his father was not paying attention to the healer. It was nothing that the King did not already know, but he should still listen. He had never set much store in his healers or herb-masters, being that he was so learned already in these arts, but he had been paying less and less attention.

Eldarion saw the healer turn and look distastefully at the orc that was standing on the King's left side, still, silent, and dutiful. He was paying rapt attention to the man, but slight uneasiness showed on his face when he saw the way the man looked at him.

Snaga glanced uncertainly at Eldarion, who nodded at him. He, Celebros, and Cundariel had all heard how Snaga had helped the King Elessar, but to the rest of those that had seen him in the City, it was a much talked-about mystery.

'Vile creatures, I don't see why they've let him in the City. What if he attacks someone? It's a danger to us all, you know. We should petition for him to be banished.'

'As I heard it, it snuck into the City. I heard it's a slave now.'

'Well,' one of the listening guards announced, 'I reckon the King knows what he's dealing with, near enough anyway, and we oughtn't go meddling in matters as that. Unnatural as it is, I'm going to let it be, and if you've any sense you'll do the same.'

'Oh, Pernathos. We all know you cracked seventeen years ago. You may not have realized it, but you're not right in the head and you don't know nothin' bout that. You oughter shut your mouth and leave us sensible folk alone and in peace. It's certainly our business if the King's letting a mad killer run loose in the City. As I was saying, Garla, this thing is pretty small, and if - if, I say - we ever find him alone, I say let's us jump him. They'll never know.'

'Well,' Pernathos said quietly, 'if I'm a loyal Guard it's my obligation to tell authorities what you're planning. Good day.'

And so on.

+++++

Eldarion had heard some of it, folks looking dark-eyed at him, at Celebros, or Cundariel, and looking purely murderous when they saw the little orc trailing along. He had been warned by a man, the lesser Guard Pernathos, that there were those in the City that wanted to kill Snaga, if they caught him alone. He had thanked the man, and told his father. The King had asked him if he could make sure Snaga was always with him, or Celebros, or the Elf. So far, Cundariel had not gone anywhere with him. Eldarion was mildly afraid that, if they were ever alone, the Elf might save the City's gossiping people their dirty work and do it for them.

For now, he had been asked by his father, who was still recovering from his ordeal, to find news of Legolas Greenleaf, and, if possible, ask him to come to the City, and Gimli Elf-friend with him, to see the King. They were to be told in advance about circumstances, but not about why specifically he wanted them. Eldarion himself did not know, although he had his suspicions.

He had not spoken to Celebros much in the past few days (it had been a week since they had entered the City with the injured King Elessar), but had seen him in the practice yard with Cundariel. The Elf had learned much from Elladan and Elrohir. She was young for an Elf, being only around seven hundred, if he remembered correctly.

He suspected the King had asked Cundariel to teach him these things. He was slightly relieved, too: the boy had an extremely hard blow. It seemed that he had fully recovered from whatever had ailed him: he had acted and looked healthy since the morning they had gotten the news - the morning he had fallen asleep in Celebros' rooms.

He set out from the Inner City in the late morning to head for the stables. Snaga trotted along beside him, looking around at the City in amazement. He never seemed to tire of gazing at the Tower of Ecthelion. He remembered his father telling him that he had never seen a more welcome sight than the White Tower. He had sounded as if he was saddened as he said it, as if with these words was brought a memory.

Eldarion shook his head, looking down at the little orc. Snaga was grinning up at him.

'Snaga think White City beautiful. He wish he live here.'

'It is beautiful,' Eldarion said, looking at the Tower of Ecthelion. He knew Faramir stood there in the mornings when he was in the City instead of Ithilien, and that Boromir had used to. Now once in a while the King would stand there with him.

'What we do today?' The orc's voice brought him out of his recollection. Snaga was unusually curious. It would not be that hard to forget you were talking to an orc and not a Man. Except that his voice was rough and gutteral, and his speech was still harsh, and not as adapted to using Numenorean.

'We are going to try to find where some of my father's friends are. They were also of the Fellowship of the Ring. Legolas, an Elf, and a dwarf, Gimli son of Gloin.'

When Eldarion mentioned Elves, he saw that Snaga's face changed; it was both unhappy and wistful, but also eager. 'We go far?'

'We might go quite far, yes. It may take us days to track them down. They travel all over. Usually Gimli is in the caves in Helm's Deep; he is sort of in control of them, and Legolas came to Ithilien often, but in the last few years they have been there less often, and have been traveling back to their homes, and in Fangorn. They might be in Rohan, or in Lothlorien.'

'In Golden Wood?' Snaga asked with a start. He had been learning the Numenorean names for places. 'Orc call it Wood of Death. That what Ungor call it. He say it where Elves live, and Elves had once kill many of our - their - many of the orcs. Ungor hate Elves, but Snaga wants to meet Elves. Ungor wanted Snaga to hate Elves, but Snaga like them. They not like Snaga, though,' he added sadly.

'I think Legolas will, when he learns your story. I don't know, because I do not know him well, but when he finds how you helped the King, I think he will not mind you then.'

'Celebros' friend Elf, she know what I did, she no like me,' he said sullenly. They had finally found Eldarion's horse, and were looking for proper saddlebags in which to store food and water. Snaga looked around curiously, and seeing a bag on the wall took it down and brought it over to the horse.

'She's had some bad experiences with orcs. Here, now we'll have to stop in the pantry for some food. Do you know the way? Follow me.'

+++++

It was not long before they were past the walls of the City. Snaga was still looking longingly back at the Tower of Ecthelion. Eldarion did not look back, but he rode on hard, and silently. When they reached a point that the City was no more than a spot of shining white, Eldarion reined in the horse and turned to the northwest.

He was uncertain which way to go. His father had advised that Legolas and Gimli might be in Lothlorien, or in Rohan,or in Fangorn Forest. It seemed more likely that they would be in Rohan, for Lothlorien was all but abandoned, and the Ents still dwelled in the Forest.

He turned his horse and rode toward Rohan, and the Fangorn Forest.

+++++

Celebros bit back an angry exclamation. The King looked cooly at him, his eyebrows raised as if he knew what his grandson had been about to say. Cundariel stood rigid, impassive and calm, but for a moment Celebros could have sworn that the Elf had had some outward reaction, like ripples on a smooth pool. Or a small crack in a glass pane.

He took a slow breath and opened his mouth. King Elessar gave him a look, and he shut it quickly. Looking at Cundariel, he continued.

'You are wondering, no doubt, why I didn't send you with my son. There is a very specific reason for this. I have obtained important information from you, Cundariel, about the North. The pieces have begun to fall in place. Galadon has built a fortress far to the North, in places yet uncharted. Years ago, before I was made King, I traveled the lands of the North. How long ago was it, did you say, that Galadon left the house of your family?'

'Thirty-four years.'

'And how long ago did your brother disappear?'

'Thirty years.'

The King sat, debating that for a moment. At last he spoke. 'It has been fifty-one years since I last traveled the lands of the North extensively, and even then there was a presence that prevented me from going that far. I believe Galadon began his plot many years before you guess.'

Cundariel seemed to consider this. For a moment all was quiet, and it seemed to Celebros that time had stopped. He stared intently at Cundariel. At last she stirred, and the stillness was broken.

'I believe you are right,' she said at last. 'I have been thinking recently of the years that preceded my brother's disappearance, and for about twenty-six years before that, Galadon would go into the Wild more. Around once every month, he would leave for a few days. I had not thought of it before. Then for a year before he left, he left only twice.

'My brother became slightly anxious in the weeks before Galadon left. He had used to spend much time learning from Galadon, for although my cousin is two hundred years my elder, my brother is almost one hundred years younger than I.

'After my brother disappeared, I went to Imladris. It was all but abandoned, but there were yet perhaps twenty Elves there, including Elladan and Elrohir, who I have known since I was young. They would travel in the North hunting orcs, you remember, and they stopped at my home many times. I was only ninety one when I moved from Mirkwood, and I did not travel much, so I was eager to do so.'

She stopped and sighed wearily. 'I told them of what had happened, and they told me they were going to hunt orcs again, and I decided to travel with them. But we found naught of Galadon's movements.

'For a time we were afraid Tasarian had left us like Galadon, but then we remembered his anxiety in the days before his disappearance, and had talked in his sleep. Elves, as you may know, seldom have disturbed sleep, but he spoke in his sleep of being... taken. We though nothing of it, for though it was unusual, there had been silence in our parts for a long time.

'Then, one night, he fell asleep on a flet outside, and we left him there, for as I said he had not been sleeping well, and was now peaceful. We did not want to disturb him.

'The next morning, I was asked by the young scouts where my brother was. I told them where he had been the other night, and they said he was not there. He occasionally took walks, so we let it be. But he did not turn up, and soon I heard that three strange men had been seen on the outskirts of our lands. Three men, and one Elf. The Elf was described as wearing a light blue robe - that is what Galadon often wore.'

The King looked up sharply, but it was more decisive than surprised. 'The reason I did not send you with Eldarion was because as soon as he returns you will be setting out North, far North, and seeking Galadon.Llama I want you to try to find the location of his fortress, and perhaps spy and find out their plans. This is your job, and it is urgent you go with haste, for a shadow has been growing in the North, and it is long past time that it should retract and vanish.'

Cundariel nodded sharply. 'I quite agree, King Elessar,' she said. The King looked up in mild surprise; Celebros realized suddenly that this was the first time she had addressed him by any title.

Celebros opened his mouth, remembering what it was that had been confusing him. The King turned toward him. 'Yes?' he said softly, smoothly.

'If we are not leaving until after Eldarion gets back, then why couldn't we go with him?'

'How much do you know of where you are going? Have you studied any maps? Have you trained in anything? Do you have supplies, and plans?'

Celebros saw what he was talking about and closed his still-open mouth. But there was something else bothering him -

'What is Eldarion doing? Where is he going?'

'I do not know where he is going. He is seeking Legolas and Gimli, my friends and companions of long ago, and I left it up to him whether to go to Lothlorien or Fangorn Forest. I believe they are in one of those places. If he goes to Lothlorien, he will be able to find them easily, if they are there, and it will be fairly obvious if they are not. If he goes to Fangorn Forest, which I suspect he will, he will likely visit the Treegarth of Orthanc and ask the Ents.'

And Celebros knew it would not be any good to inquire more into that matter. He folded his arms across his chest. He heard Cundariel echo his own thoughts, although he rather thought she was talking about her brother rather than Eldarion. 'He could have at least warned us somehow, so we could say goodbye.'

Turning to the Elf, and addressing both her and his grandfather, he said, 'Where ought we start?'

+++++

'Well, I think it's about time we took another rest, Snaga. The sun is setting.'

The two of them must have been something of a sight: from far off doubtless they looked like a man and a small dwarf, but when one got near, they could see a man and an orc, deep in conversation, both looking tired, drawn, and hungry. Their horse was in good condition, but wore no saddle.

'How long we been on Road, Eldarion?'

'This is the sixth day. We ought to be there tomorrow, if our luck holds. Maybe the day after.'

'Where "there"?'

'The Treegarth of Orthanc, where the Ents are. I swear, Snaga, if I've told you this once I've told you twenty times. Can't you remember?'

Snaga looked uncertain. 'Snaga doesn't know what it is. Orthanc, Snaga knows. Used to be where man Sharku lived. Snaga know that - I know that. Orcs say that. But what be there? King's friends be there?'

'I don't know, Snaga, but the Ents are there, like I said, and they will know whether Legolas and Gimli are there, or when they left.'

'Food?' Snaga asked hopefully.

'Yes, we can eat now.'

'No. Food, there? We get more food there?'

'I don't know if the Ents keep what they call man-food. They drink Ent- draughts. They don't need food. But there are berries and nuts in the forest, and there is game. But we must not harm any trees. You remember that, don't you?'

'Snaga remembers.'

'Good. Do you want some meat? I have some water, and dried fruit, and bread and a bit of dry meat.'

Snaga looked up hopefully. 'Snaga wants - I want food,' he said, nodding.

The orc took some meat, and some water. He did not like the bread. But Eldarion himself took only a sip of water, and a small chunk of the bread, which was slightly stale. The light of the fire began to dim, and night fell, and it was cold. The silvery moon was near to full, but the light that it cast was dim and yellowish. Eldarion did not notice these things. Long after Snaga was asleep, he stood atop a rock, staring into the endless dark.

Snaga awoke at sunup to find Eldarion sitting against a rock, dozing. As soon as the orc's foot crunched on the gravelly ground, the Man's eyes opened and he stood. Without a word, he and Snaga cleaned up camp and packed the horse. He mounted, and Snaga stood by the side of the horse and scrabbled to clamber on. Being unsuccessful, he looked pleadingly at Eldarion, who immediately lifted him up. When he spoke, his voice was soft, but weary.

'I have studied the landscape as much as I could last night, and I believe if we take a break at noontime we shall reach the Treegarth of Orthanc by five. We will spend the night with the Ents and get news of Legolas and Gimli. Then we will set out in the afternoon. Whether into the woods or to Lothlorien, we must take a break. We cannot travel on this way much longer; little food and sleep, riding with one or two breaks per day. The horse is in fine condition; Celebros told me he thought this one, looked better than another and I have no doubt he was right. He has a way with horses.'

Snaga said nothing. Eldarion nudged the horse, and they rode off.

+++++

Treebeard was the first to meet them that night as they rode into the area surrounding the Treegarth of Orthanc. 'Hoom, now,' he said, sounding disgusted, 'who are you, what are you doing, and why are you traveling with one of those, hoom, hom, evileyed blackskinned vermin? I do not like being hasty, but orcs are not allowed in the Treegarth. It is a sanctuary of life, and he is an omen of death.'

'I am Eldarion son of Elessar,' Eldarion replied calmly. 'I am on an errand from my father, and this orc is Snaga, a friend of the King. Not long ago, Snaga saved the King's life. But if Snaga will not be allowed, then I will not enter.'

'Hoom! Now this is a story, indeed yes. Well, I suppose he will be allowed for the moment, but I will want him under guard. Yes, you have the look of the King. Welcome to the Treegarth of Orthanc!'

They rode along the path, Treebeard striding slowly along beside them and talking in his strange voice.

'You are, hoom, on an errand you say? What might this be?'

'We seek friends of my father the King, an Elf, Legolas Greenleaf, and Gimli son of Gloin. Are they in the Forest, do you know?'

'Well, I last saw them, hm, let me see, yes, I last saw them nine days ago. They were going to travel around the Forest for a while, but I do not know where they were going. They went northeast, but they were going to loop around and go somewhere. But, hm, I do not know where. They have stayed here long; after they went across the Forest the first time, they came back together about two years later, and headed out for your father's city. They came back about a year later, and stayed in the Forest for some time, then set back out. They were going to see Eryn Lasgalen, and then go to Erebor, I believe. They have been back and forth ever since, but I do not think they have been to the City for three years now, hoom.'

'That would be right,' Eldarion said, remembering the visit. Legolas had spoken much to the King about matters in his lands, and had told Eldarion about it some. The Elf was very knowled-geable, and it was always interesting to listen to him. Gimli, on the other hand, had also talked to the King, but rarely spoke to anyone else except Legolas.

'Hoom, well, I see you have been on the road for many days. Are you tired? Perhaps you would like a draught from the Entwash?'

'Yes, we are quite tired. We set out from Minas Tirith seven days ago now, and have had to ration our food and water. I for one would very much like to have some. Snaga?'

'Snaga... Snaga would like some too.'

'Hoom, that is good! Follow me! I am glad you have come, son of King Elessar, for I would hear of news of your City. And I would also like to send a message to your father.' The old Ent's face darkened, if that was possible, for a moment, but then he laughed. 'Hoom, come now! Let us speak of merrier things. How do things go in your land?'

Eldarion told him of what had been going on in the past few years, and found that Treebeard was a very attentive listener, and the only interruptions were occasional chuckles or 'hoom's. They stopped to drink for a while, and then Eldarion began to speak of how Celebros had gone into the Grey Wood all that had happened since. With every word, Treebeard's face bacame darker and more grave, and he was silent, but then Eldarion told him how Snaga had saved his father, and Treebeard began to chuckle. He smiled down at the small orc, and clapped him on the shoulder. 'Hoom now! That is well. When the enemy begins to join you, then well indeed are the times.'

Then his face grew grave once more. 'The Ents, too, have been troubled by the North. Something lurks there in wait, and it is slowly emerging. Ents will be happy to help drive it back. We do not fear it, but it greatly worries us. Galadon you say his name is? I have not heard that. But perhaps you would like to sleep now. Come, there is room. We have places for Men, Elves, Dwarves -' He cut off looking sidelong at Snaga. 'We have room for all. I will take you there. There are soft beds. It will not be cold. You will rest well tonight.'

Treebeard called up another Ent. 'This is Talltrunk, in your tongue. He will show you where you may sleep.'

Talltrunk looked down at them. 'Come along,' he said kindly; his voice was deep and sad. They followed him, slightly slowly. 'What are your names?'

'I am Eldarion Telcontar, and this is my friend Snaga.'

'I know most of your story, for I have been watching you. It is well that you have come. When will you be setting out to look for Legolas and Gimli?'

'We will set out around midday tomorrow.'

The Ent nodded slowly. 'Always hasty, now,' he murmered, 'never telling us stories as you used. Well, you are on an errand. I suppose it is unavoidable.' Then he motioned in front of them, and they saw that they had come to a large house of stone. A lantern was lit inside, and it cast a friendly light about the room. The ceiling and door were very high. Inside were many beds of different sizes. 'Do not wander out at night,' the Ent said quietly. 'It is not hard to get lost.' Then he left.

Snaga chose a dwarf-sized bed and flung himself into it. The sun was now almost fully set. Eldarion lay his things beside a bed crafted for a Man. The bedding was soft and thick. It was very comfortable. With a smile, Eldarion lay down and fell fast asleep.

+++++

Treebeard looked at the two still forms in the beds. 'What do you think, Talltrunk?' he said softly. 'Do they tell the truth? I do not love orcs, but this one is not evil, even if it may not be wholly good. I do not know what to think. Why would not the King send escorts, or scouts? Why would he send his son, alone save a single small, hm, a single orc?'

'I do not know, Eldest,' the younger Ent said quietly. 'I do not know why he did, hm, send his son, and an orc, but I do know they told the truth. Maybe not the whole truth, but they are honest. They told all that was safe for them to tell, and that is good. They are not hasty.'

'That is true. Leaf and twig, yes, of course, you speak truly. The North is worrying me much, but I do not know whether it was merely something they held back for good reason, or something they did not know at all. They was something unusual, something not right, about these.'

Eldarion stirred in his sleep. 'He is uneasy,' Talltrunk said sadly. 'Something troubles him. I wish there was more, hoom, yes, that we could do. I think that there is something that troubles him greatly, but he has not told anyone. He is wise for a Man.'

'Yes,' Treebeard said quietly. 'Like his father. Yes he is.'

The two Ents stood in silence for some time, then without a word slowly turned and strode out of the hut and into the darkness. The night went on, and the Man and the orc slept undisturbed. Undisturbed, but not unwatched. No one noticed the shadow that stood outside the door. It was slightly too tall to be an orc, but too short to be an Ent. It stayed by the door until the rays of morning began to rise above the trees, and then silently slipped away into the forest. A jay twittered in the trees, and the dark was overcome. It was the morning of the eighth day after they had left the city. The two slept on for a good portion of the morning.

+++++

Eldarion yawned, and sat up. Snaga was grinning from beside the bed. 'Treebeard says you sleepy head. He say I come get you to eat. He have man-food.'

Eldarion hurried over to where Treebeard was, Snaga leading him. The Ent was near a stream, and he looked up with a smile when he saw them approaching. 'Hello, Eldarion. Did you, hoom, did you sleep well?'

'Yes, thank you,' Eldarion said politely. The Ent smiled. 'I have some man-food. Meat, fruit, nuts, and water. I also have a small supply of pipe-weed, if you smoke.'

'No, thank you, Treebeard. I do not smoke, for it makes me cough.'

'Hoom, yes, smoke chokes me as well. I do not know why you Men like to use it so much. I do not understand it. Does it not make others cough?'

'Apparently not.'

'Hoom, well...yes. I have spoken to Snaga now, and I trust him. Never before have I met such an orc. I do not know, but I do not think, hoom, I do not think that he should be able to think what he thinks, as an orc. Orcs, as you know, were creatures of the Shadow. Now that it is gone, there are few left. Perhaps his power, too, is fading. I had wondered if it would dwindle once he was defeated, but not so soon, hoom, no. Perhaps it is something else, but if the Shadow in the East lived on, I am sure this would not have happened.'

Eldarion nodded. Snaga was sitting on the ground nearby, close enough to have heard Treebeard's words, and was looking up, intrest and curiosity in his yellow-green eyes.

They spent the morning talking to Treebeard. At about one, a tall gray Ent strode up.

'Hoom, hello, Bregalad! This is Quickbeam, in your tongue,' he added to Eldarion. Snaga was dozing against the trunk of a large tree. 'What is happening on the outer wall?'

'All is well,' Quickbeam said, his voice deep and very sad. 'It is one, and we were wondering what time the travelers here would be leaving. I have chosen Barkleaf and myself to lead them, Eldest.'

'Hoom, that is well! Barkleaf may be a little hasty, but it will, yes, it should be good for him to have a task. Barkleaf and Quickbeam will lead you through the forest for a while. They will show you which way to go to find Legolas and Gimli, if they are still in the forest. Otherwise go straight out of the forest and head for the Golden Wood.'

They left two hours later, and Treebeard saw them to a large clearing. There Quickbeam and Barkleaf were waiting. Barkleaf seemed anxious to get on, but Quickbeam spoke to Treebeard in their own tongue. It took a few minutes, and then they set into the foliage.

Barkleaf had a strange voice; it was not deep but rich and flowing. He spoke of the woods, and laughed a good deal. When Snaga tripped and fell to the ground, he helped him up, laughing good-naturedly. They traveled on for perhaps two hours, then stopped at a small stream and drank. The water was cool, and it refreshed them seemingly more than other food had. They stopped again when the sun went down. Quickbeam had seldom spoken, but now he said to Eldarion, 'Continue on the path until you reach a place where it turns very sharply. The turn to the right and continue that way until you reach a very large clearing. The sun shines in brightly there. There are three trees there, and they were sacred to the Elves when they still came into the wood often. There, I believe, you will find your friends. The trees are called Nimbrethil, the White Birch, mightiest of the three, and Hallorn and Galadhal, the Tall Trees. If Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli are in these woods, they are there.'

Eldarion bowed. 'Thank you for your help. Send our greetings and thanks to Treebeard.'

'We will do that.' The two tall Ents turned and walked away, soon vanishing in the growing dark.

+++++

Snaga awoke far after sunrise. Eldarion was crouched over a small fire. He looked over. 'Good morning, Snaga! Would you like some fish?'

'Snaga like fish,' the small orc said, his face splitting in a yawn.

'Good. Can you watch the fire a moment?'

'Snaga doesn't know. He no watch fire before.'

'Oh, it's all right. Just be careful. I have to go scout out the path.'

Eldarion ran off. The trees semmed to close in around him as he jogged ahead. The path was clear. He continued ahead for a couple of minutes. Just as he was turning to go back, he heard a shreik from the campsite.

'Snaga?!' he yelled. He turned and darted back to the camp. He reached the site, and sighed. Snaga was leaping around the clearing holding the stick that held one of the fish. The fish had started on fire, and Snaga was trying to put it out. Hurrying over to the orc with a small grin, he extinguished the fish.

'Ruin my breakfast, why don't you? Can't you roast a simple fish without burning it?'

'Snaga sorry,' the little orc said, hanging his head and looking fearful.

'Oh, it's all right. Between the other one and the remains of this one, there'll be enough for us both.'

Snaga grinned.

+++++

'When we get there?' Snaga asked with a small smile.

Eldarion gave him a long-suffering glare and said nothing. In truth, he had been giving the orc estimates the entire time, but now they were likely no more than an hour away from the Trees.

They slowly went on.

Other than Snaga's continuous repeated questions, there was not another word spoken until the tall tops of three trees came into sight above the tops of all the others.

Eldarion saw the clearing ahead, and before he stepped into sight, he shut his eyes, pushed Snaga behind him, and took a deep breath. He took a step forward, and opened his eyes.

Three tall, majestic trees stood in the middle of the tremendous clearing. The center one was taller than the others. All three sat on a very small, perfect hill. The leaves were bright and fresh. There were no weeds on the hill. And underneath the middle tree sat two figures; one tall and one short. The tall one leapt lightly to his feet, calling to the other. Legolas, for that was indeed who it was, strode forward, looking both friendly, worried, and confused. He also seemed to be ready to draw an arrow.

'Eldarion! It is good to see you. What is this? Is something wrong in the City?'

'Not precisely, my friend. My father sent me to ask you to come to the City. My sister's son, Celebros, recently went alone to the Grey Woods. And while he was there...'

They walked back to the trees, Legolas listening carefully to his story. When he got to the point where he told of the King being stabbed, Legolas stopped him, hissing through his teeth.

'Eldarion, you still have not mentioned this -' He gestured distastefully at Snaga, '- this orc here.'

'I will come to it. For the moment, you need not worry. He is to be trusted.'

Gimli had not said a word up to this point, but now he burst out, 'The thing is an orc. They are vile creatures. Why should we not kill him? You say he is to be trusted, but I have never before met an orc that is not twisted, lying and poison-tongued.'

Snaga's face had been screwing up, and he suddenly shouted out, 'Snaga hate orcs!'

Legolas and Gimli stared at the small figure. He was breathing hard through gritted teeth, and he was looking angrily at Gimli, though it was not toward the Dwarf his anger was aimed.

'Let me continue with the story, and I'll explain. Enough, Snaga,' Eldarion said, exasperated. The orc sat down again, almost pounting.

Eldarion finished the tale. As he told them of how Snaga had saved the King, Legolas laughed out loud and actually smiled at the orc. Gimli had chuckled, and grinned to no one in particular.

Legolas smiled and nodded thoughtfully. He took one look at Gimli and cocked his head slightly, grinning. The dwarf nodded. 'Very well,' Legolas said. 'We will come to Minas Tirith. But why does the King want us? I see naught that we can do.'

'That I do not know.'

'Well, the King likely has his reasons.'

They spent the night in that clearing. Snaga cast himself on the ground and was soon asleep. Gimli lay awake speaking to Legolas for a while, then he too fell asleep. Legolas sat, his back to Eldarion, by the fire for a long time. The moon was beginning to rise. Without turning Legolas spoke.

'Why do you not sleep? It is late, the road is long, and we have many miles to cover.'

'I am not tired.'

'Eldarion Telcontar, that is a lie. You are tired, and weary. Why, I ask again, do you not sleep?'

Eldarion did not speak for a moment. The Elf turned and looked at him, his head cocked curiously. 'Why?' he asked softly.

'I do not wish to dream. My dreams have been confusing and frightening. I wish to sit and think.'

'What dreams have you had?'

Once again, Eldarion hesitated. At last he spoke, in a slow halting voice.

'I am in a dark cave, standing on a narrow pathway. Many orcs are shooting toward me, but they do not hit me. Then a great beast comes. He is tall and black, yet clear and fiery - and for a moment I feel frozen for terror of the beast. I back away, and I fall into the shadows.'

Legolas looked at him, still silent, not moving a muscle. There was something in his face, of remembrance and startle-ment, but he hid it well.

'Well,' Eldarion said after a pause, 'does it mean anything?'

The Elf looked at Snaga. 'Celebros is in danger,' Legolas said simply, then jerking his head in a quite un-Elf-like fashion toward the small orc, 'and he might be.'

'Why? How do you -'

'I know things that few other do. He is in danger, grave danger.'

'No,' Eldarion whispered. But Legolas' voice was certain. 'You should get some rest, my friend,' he said simply, and turned silently back to the fire. After a moment, Eldarion lay down. Sleep came, and with it, dreams.

+++++

...and with it, dreams.

When Eldarion awoke, Legolas was gone. Gimli sat silently beside the third tree. Eldarion sat up and saw that a rolled-up cloak had been placed under his head. It was one of Legolas'.

Gimli showed them where there was food, and they ate silently. Just as they finished cleaning up, Legolas strode back into the clearing with a large horse. He was smiling and singing softly to himself. Eldarion caught a few of the words:

'To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,

The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying...'

Then the Elf's voice faded out of hearing again. Seeing them looking at him, he stopped and smiled at them. 'Let us make ready to set out!' he said. But then Eldarion heard him sigh, as if he were leaving something he would rather not. He walked to the trunk of the tree and spoke softly, in the Elven-tongue, but Eldarion could not hear him, and he did not think it was the trees that he regretted leaving so much.

+++++

Eldarion sat up again that night. Legolas turned to look at him a few times, silent and concerned. At last Eldarion lay down and fell asleep.

He dreamed again, and awoke with a cold sweat slicking his skin. The grey dawn would soon be approaching; a tiny glimmer of silver was hanging moodily over the horizon. Legolas sat still on a stone, his head bowed and his eyes closed. He was not asleep. He opened his eyes, and Eldarion saw that there was a sadness in them. His seemingly ageless face looked worn and weary. He had not slept, again.

They traveled at a great pace that day. It was cloudly and dismal, dreary and dim. They did not speak much, and when they did it was about the road. But that night, when Eldarion woke up, Legolas was asleep.

+++++

They rode into the City a few days later and headed directly to the Hall. The guards at the door bowed to Eldarion and looked disapprovingly at Snaga. As they entered the great room, they saw the the King Elessar sat alone at a small table in the center of the hall. He looked up as they approached and sat smiling.

Legolas and Gimli bowed. 'Hello, King Elessar,' Legolas said quietly. The King laughed.

'Hello, my old friends!' he said. 'I would stand, but my leg, it is not very good. Welcome again to Minas Tirith. It has been too long since you have been here.'

'It has indeed been long,' Gimli said, rather gruffly.

'And how are you?' the King asked.

'We are well,' Legolas said cooly. 'We wish to hear of the City! How fare things here?'

+++++

So they spoke of all that had happened in the City, and although none of them noticed, before long two figures came striding through the doors silently, and listened. At last the story ended, and Legolas turned and looked at the two figures. It was Cundariel and Celebros. Seeing Cundariel, his eyes widened and he gasped.

'Cundariel! It has been long, far, far too long! I have not seen you since you last visited the Woodland Realm, near to seventy years ago!'

Cundariel appeared equally glad to see him, and between their exclamations the others worked out that they had been friends in the Woodland Realm befor Cundariel left it. The two of them went into a corner and talked, and Gimli now spoke to the King, Celebros, and Eldarion of deeds in the Woodland Realm and Erebor. They sat in the room, telling of what had passed, until a great bell rang out. 'Well!' said the King with a laugh, 'I don't know about the rest of you, but I should like something to eat. Shall I call for a meal to be brought?'

He called the men at the doors, and a long table was pulled into the center of the room, and a meal was brought. It was good food; there was chicken and bread, and the finest wine, and also Gimli and the King brought out their pipes, and some of the weed was brought for them to smoke.

Although the Hall has not been described yet, I am sure you can picture it; a great room, domed on top, with creamy walls and a window in the high ceiling. There were great oak doors with golden handles. The rugs were of deep red velvet. There were paintings about the walls. Also, there was a raised platform in the center, for minstrels and entertainers to stand upon. Around the room many oaken tables and cushioned chairs were strewn. At night, the hall was lit with many candles and lamps.

When they were finished eating and smoking, the King spoke to Legolas and Gimli of what he wanted them to do.

'As you have heard, I set out before I was stabbed to meet soemone. Indeed, I was planning to meet Elladan and Elrohir in the Woodland Realm, but now, with my wound, I cannot, of course, travel. Thus I was wondering if the two of you could go to Eryn Lasgalen and tell them what I was going to tell them, and of why I could not meet them. Will you do this?'

They said they would indeed do it, although Gimli sounded doubtful. 'When should we start?' Legolas asked, in his quiet manner.

'I would like it very much if you could start in three days, for then you and Celebros and Cundariel could travel together until their road turns North.'

'I think that will be practical,' Gimli said firmly. 'What road should we take? Not through the Grey Wood, or the Stonewain Valley, surely?'

'This I must think on,' the King said slowly, 'for this seems the most direct way, and you have need of haste.'

+++++

It was sunrise, three days later, when the four of them set forth. Cundariel and Legolas spoke to each other in Elven, and Celebros understood some of it.

'We are to travel along the east edge of Emyn Muil, and then -' - here there was a string of words he couldn't understand - '- towards Eryn Lasgalen and then go opposite directions? It will be weeks until we part, then, I shall have time to catch up on news of the North.'

'Why did Tasarian...' Then there were a few words Celebros did not understand, '...for I left before he was old enough to leave. But then he...' Once again, some strange words were spoken. 'Why did he?'

'He was not happy. He wanted to see you, and others who left. Many were restless, in those times.'

They spoke like this for some time. They did not stop for a lunch, but ate as they rode, some traveling-cakes and water. 'It calls to me, but I must find Tasarian. He has been gone now for thirty summers. If he lives, he will be in no shape to escape without a great deal of help. But I must help him. He is my brother, and I will help him.'

'I know,' Legolas said softly. 'I wish to see him again, but I cannot. The King has set me on an errand, and I obey. I will not fail him.'

'Of course not,' she replied. 'Of course, you must not. I would never ask you to. Meet Elladan and Elrohir. This is a task as crucial as our own, perhaps. I know not what will happen next, but it will be...'

They began to skirt the edges of Emyn Muil two weeks after leaving the City. Little happened in this time. They talked of their homes, or of adventures they had had in recent years. Celebros told them of what had happened when he had gone to the Grey Wood, and Legolas and Gimli explained the places they had gone and explored. They rode, not hard, but at a good pace. They rationed their food, and hunted when they could.

Traveling Emyn Muil was dim, and hard work. They climbed, and climbed, and when night fell, they were already asleep save one of the Elves, who would alternate staying awake to watch, or both stay on guard all night. Celebros and Gimli made no protest. They both fell asleep as soon as they had eaten. Grey morning came on the sixth day, and they saw the end of it all. Now it would be a long journey, of many days and weeks, over plain and hill, swamp and marsh.

There was little talk save between the two Elves, or of food or travel. Gimli spoke little, and seemed slightly put out by the way Legolas was seeminly ignoring both of them.

When they reached the end of Emyn Muil, the talk grew. Legolas and Gimli would alternate, telling stories of the War of the Ring. Celebros had heard some of these from the King and Eldarion, but most of it was fully new. Cundariel was the only one among them to whom the tales were all unfamiliar. Even some that Legolas and Gimli had not actually experienced, such as the Watch-tower of Amon Sul, they had heard of at the Council. But although there were the stories, and occasional talk of the road, and other journeys, there was no talk of the quests they were each going on after they seperated.

Nothing remarkable happened for the first week of their travel after they got away from Emyn Muil. Every day, they traveled at a quick pace. They awoke at dawn, ate, and set out for the day. They would take a brief rest at midday, and eat their dried meat, bread, and water. Then they would continue on until sunset and build a fire. They would prepare a meal then, eat, and sleep. Sometimes they set a guard, and sometimes they did not. Twice Legolas gave Celebros detailed instructions as to how to better shoot his bow.

On the seventh day after leaving Emyn Muil, at nightfall they came across a cave in a large hillside. It had a rough, old look, and inside it was very dark. Even their torch shed little light.

Gimli lead the way into the cave, holding the torch, and Cundariel brought up the rear. It was unfriendly, and the air was not very good. The Elves seemed hesitant, though Cundariel less than Legolas, for the latter had traveled into Moria, and had been to Erebor and other tunneled cities with Gimli.

Suddenly, when they had been traveling nigh on ten minutes at a slow pace, Gimli gave a grunt and came forward slowly. The others lagged behind. He let out a surprised sound, and then held up, gingerly, a bone. It was large, almost the size of a deer's leg-bone. Legolas' eyes darkened.

'There is, or has been, a beast lurking in these caves. I do not think we should go any farther lest it still be there.'

Gimli made a sound of disdain, as if disgruntled, but nodded reluctantly and turned to lead the way back. Suddenly a low growl came from behind him, and he slowly began to turn back. Another growl, louder this time, echoed off the stone walls. Legolas drew his bow, and Cundariel followed suit, a shade slower. Their eyes were narrowed in the dim light, but they could see nothing. For what seemed like ages, they stood tense and alert, ready to fire. Nothing happened. Then -

With a sharp gasp, Celebros saw two pinpricks of light appear. Whatever else the foul beast was, it was large. Legolas loosed an arrow, drawing another to his bowstring. Cundariel fired one, too. A grunt of surprise and pain came out of the darkness, and then there was a roar almost loud enough to knock them over. Into the feeble light the torch shed stepped a huge creature.

It was a troll, but yet a small one, perhaps eight to nine feet tall, whereas a full grown cave troll was ten to fourteen feet. It must have been young.

Its skin was grayish, and its small eyes were squinting and black. Two arrows jutted out of it; one in its upper left leg and one in its upper chest.

'Keep back!' Legolas whispered to Gimli and Celebros.

The thing snorted, reaching a huge hand forward. A small knife flew from Cundariel's hand and stuck into its palm. It roared again. Legolas loosed his second arrow. This one struck right below the creature's neck. Its blackish blood stained its chest and dripped down onto the floor. It seemed to back away, then hesitated. In the split second, while it stood motionless and exposed, Legolas loosed his third arrow. It flew through the air and embedded itself in the thing's neck. With a lurch, it fell forward. It was dead.

Legolas sighed. Cundariel looked frusterated.

'My best throwing knife,' she muttered regretfully. 'I'll want another.'

'Yes,' Legolas said with no emotion. 'Let us get out of this foul place. The reek of that creature stings my eyes and fills my nose.'

They hurried back out of the tunnel. Cundariel sat down on the ground.

'The air in there was rank,' she muttered. 'Let us not go into such a place again!'

+++++

It was dark outside. They lit a small fire and ate in silence. Then Legolas smiled. He stood up and asked if they would like to hear a tale.

'Certainly,' they told him.

A small smile flitted across his face. 'Tonight I will tell you of the tale of the Finding of the Great Ring. I did not witness it, but I heard of it at the Council of Elrond, in Imladris.

'There one day came to Bilbo Baggins' door the great wizard Gandalf the Grey, who Elves call Mithrandir.' Recognition dawned in Cundariel's eyes, and Gimli smiled from old memories; a smile that recalled good times and sadness. 'Also with him came thirteen dwarves, who were Thorin Oakensheild, descendant of Mountain-Kings, and his twelve companions. With them Bilbo the hobbit set out to kill Smaug the Worm, in the year of 2957. The party was assailed by orcs in a High Pass of the Misty Mountains as they went toward the Wilderlands. Bilbo was lost for a time in the black, foul orc-mines deep under the mountains, and there, as he groped in the dark, he put his hand on a ring lying on the tunnel floor. He put it in his pocket.

'Trying to find his way out, Bilbo went on until he could go no farther. He was at the bottom of the mountain roots, and there lay a cold, dark lake. On an island in the lake lived Gollum, a loathsome creature with big pale eyes who paddled around catching and eating anything live, raw, especially fish, and occasionally orcs. He possesed a small golden ring that he had come across ages before. It was very precious to him.

'Maybe he would have attacked Bilbo if the hobbit had not had his Elven- blade from Gondolin. To gain time, Gollum challenged Bilbo to a riddle contest, saying if Bilbo lost, he would eat him, and if Gollum lost, then he would show Bilbo the way out. Bilbo accepted the challenge. They exchanged riddles, which became gradually harder and harder, until finally Bilbo came across one he could not solve:

This thing all things devours:

Birds, beasts, trees, flowers.

Knaws iron, bites steel,

Grinds hard stone to meal.

Slays king, ruins town,

And beats high mountains down.

'It was nearly the ruin of all. Bilbo sat in the darkness and thought and thought, and Gollum beacame impatient, creeping closer greedily. Bilbo tried to cry out, 'Give me more time!' but all that issued from his mouth was, 'Time!'

'Now Gollum was frightfully disappointed and quite angry, and Bilbo was saved by pure luck. For the answer, of course, was indeed Time.

'Then Bilbo could not think of a riddle. He crammed his hands in his pockets frantically, thinking hard, when he comes across the ring, forgotten about for the moment. He said aloud, 'What have I got in my pocket?' Gollum could not guess it, though he insisted on being given three tries. So Bilbo won the contest.

'But Gollum was angry, hungry, and had a deceitful spirit. He went back to his island to find his ring, which made him invisible. But he had lost it. Bilbo heard a blood-curdling shreik. Gollum had guessed the riddle too late. 'What has it got in its pocketses?' he cried, and flew back to kill the poor frightened hobbit. Bilbo realized his danger none too soon, and fled, accidenally slipping on the Ring, not knowing its powers. Gollum passed him in the dark to guard the door, and Bilbo followed. From Gollum's mutters, he finally guessed the truth and realized the ring was his only hope.

'Finally, Gollum stopped, blocking Bilbo's only way out. Almost he killed the foul thing, but he was stayed by pity and mercy. Steeling his courage, he leapt over Gollum and ran for the guarded exit, pursued by Gollum's anguished, despairing cry, 'Thief, thief, theif! Baggins! We hates it, we hates it, we hates it for ever!

'Thus Bilbo escaped Gollum. He slipped past the guards and returned to the company, but the ring he kept secret for some time.'

+++++

There was a long silence after Legolas' tale. Then Celebros nodded and broke the spell.

'Well told! I had not heard that tale in depth before, the King just told us that Bilbo Baggins had gotten lost in the mountains while on a quest, found a small golden ring, and been in a riddle contest with a creature Gollum. He didn't go on for long, but told us that Gollum lost the contest and tried to kill him for the ring, which he had posessed before. I had no idea it was so detailed!'

'Indeed,' said Legolas, 'it was more complicated than any would have guessed. It was no more and no less than any could have predicted of a Ring-Bearer; decietful, full of malice, loving and hating their gift, their curse, and nothing else. Now we should sleep, I think. Who will guard first?'

'I will,' Cundariel said quickly.

'And I second,' said Gimli.

'I'll take third,' Celebros said hurridly. He did not want to be the last to speak.

'I will go last, in that case,' Legolas nodded.

Celebros was shaken awake by Gimli when it was his turn to watch. The dwarf was blinking, despite all his remarks about how sturdy and hard to tire dwarves were. 'Your turn,' he grunted. Celebros sat up and sleepily climbed to his feet. Gimli lay down immediately and was soon asleep.

Celebros sat in the dark, the fire having gone out, standing up about once every ten to twenty minutes and pacing around the site to keep him awake. Nothing happened, and it got colder and windier. After what he guessed was about two hours, Celebros stood again and walked over to Legolas. He shook the Elf's shoulder softly. His eyes slowly opened and he stood. 'Is it time?' he aked quietly.

'Yes,' Celebros said in an equally quiet tone.

He went over and lay down, but he was restless. He heard no motion from Legolas, and the only sound was the wind blowing over the brown meadow. Eventually, sleep came.

+++++

The shape stooping over him was hard to make out; it was dull. It was still dark, Celebros realized, his mind foggy. The sun was not yet up.

'Celebros!' Legolas whispered. 'Celebros! Wake up!'

He woke up. Legolas was bent over him. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that it could not have been more than half an hour since he had woken Legolas up. The Elf helped him to his feet. 'Wha' is it?' Celebros muttered thickly.

'Celebros, there is someone out there. Did you see anything when you were on your guard? Anything at all?'

'No, it was all quiet. Almost too quiet. No birds, or squirrels, or anything. No, there was one... A raven, or a crow. I saw it fly overhead. It didn't make any sound, but that was the only living thing I saw.'

Legolas' mouth twisted in a grimace. 'It would have to be a raven or a crow,' he sighed. 'Orcs and such foul creatures, they use those birds as spies sometimes. Have you heard of crebain?'

'No,' Celebros said, bewildered. Birds as spies?

'Are you certain it was not a sparrow, or a thrush? Those are used as messangers, sometimes, by the Men of Dale. Or a larger bird - a small hawk? I believe they are more widespread as messangers.'

'That was no hawk, and no sparrow either,' Celebros said darkly.

'This is not boding well,' Legolas said. 'That vile Galadon could be using them, or the orcs of the Grey Wood. We must be more careful. I shall ask the others in the morning. As for what I am sensing, it may be that such a bird, or more than one, might be watching from the trees. We must not speak of our journeys! We wouldn't want our enemies to get ideas that we would be foolish enough to attack them.'

+++++

In the next three days they saw a raven or hawk every night. On the fourth night there were three. And every night as the Elves watched, they got a feeling that there was something watching them. On the fifth day the feeling grew so much that in the morning both the Elves felt shaken and very uneasy.

They were about two days from the edge of Eryn Lasgalen, where they would be seperating; Legolas and Gimli to the Elven king's halls, Celebros and Cundariel to Mount Gundabad and the surrounding area.

Cundariel and Legolas spoke some at night, but not much during the days. The Elves were so uneasy that the stories, if there were any, were at luncheon or breakfast, and they were shorter than before. On the sixth day, Legolas sat up all night, rigid, and was in almost exactly the same position when Celebros woke up as he had been when he fell asleep. He stood alert with his face towards the rising sun, erect and sharp. He turned to Celebros as the boy rose to his feet, stretching and yawning.

'I have not seen them, but I am certain they know where we are. We must press on. Once we separate you must be very careful. You must be on the watch all the time. We should reach the edge of the wood by evening tonight if we hurry, if we slow, by noon tomorrow. Myself, I am uncertain. It would be good to press on; we have need of haste, but staying together gives us more time to figure out what we are going to do and what paths to take.'

'I should say we should wait,' Celebros said slowly, 'for one half-day would not make much difference. I don't know why we have need of such haste, but my heart agrees. A shadow waits, it is waiting, growing ever more foul. I do not know what.' He stopped abruptly; his voice had taken a dreamy edge. He looked as if he had just realized what he was saying.

'We shall have to take a vote,' Legolas said. 'Wake the others! If we decide to press on we must do it quickly.'

+++++

Five minutes later, the four of them sat in a circle. Cele-bros had already posed to them the question.

There was a long hush. Then Legolas spoke.

'We will vote,' he said. 'Think on this a moment. If we wait, we have another night to plan, but also it will risk the enemy's watchful spies seeing out plans. Already we have planned some, but your way is harder, and Celebros does not know it well. Even for you, Cundariel, it will be hard to navigate. What say you?'

There was another silence, then Celebros spoke. 'I should say that we should not go with haste, and plan today, while the sun is up, while we can see spies. Then we could travel at night, and separate and go our ways at dawn.'

Cundariel shook her head. 'I say we ought to go on now. It is too big a risk, that he may hear our plans.'

Legolas looked troubled when Celebros looked to him to vote. 'I am sorry, but I must agree with Cundariel. We cannot risk it. Gimli?'

'I would say plan, as Celebros said, while we can see the foe,' he said. 'But then it will be a tie, and it will be called for someone to tiebreak. I apologize. Though it is not truly what I should wish, I will agree with the Elves. Let us press on. But first I should ask this: let us find a high place where we may plan for but a few minutes, to hear the routes we should go! Has anyone a map?'

None of them had, but Cundariel and Legolas said that they could draw a map and scratch it out when they were finished. They mounted and rode in haste until, around noontime, they found, amidst the prarie-like fields, a tall rock formation that they could climb upon. The top was flat with some dirt and sand. They climbed up and hurridly the two Elves bent together to form a map while Celebros and Gimli got food ready; they could eat while planning for the few short minutes.

Before long they had a map scratched out. 'It's rough,' Legolas said, 'and we missed some of the roads and places. We do not know them all. It is not fully accurate, but I think it will suffice.'

Cundariel looked at the drawing. 'Celebros and I should cut through Eryn Lasgalen, and when we reach the old forest road, turn west and come out near the Old Ford. We cross the river there. We go towards the mountains and travel on along the east side. I have heard of goblin gates in the mountains, so therefore we shall have to avoid any gates or tunnels. When we near Mount Gundabad, we continue on slower, and try to sneak in and explore the halls. We are to chart them if we can. If they are guarded, we are not to do so unless we can disguise ourselves.' She sounded as if she was rehearsing something. It was what the King had told her, no doubt. 'We are to conceal our prescence as much as is possible, not killing anyone or letting anyone know who we are. We should steal outfits, if possible, from storerooms, and examine and follow their protocol as much as is possible.'

Legolas nodded. 'As for us, we shall travel as much as we can along the border until we reach the old forest road, for until we are north of that I do not know the ways as well as I used. Then we can make a straight cut to my father's halls. Will you return along the same route?'

'Who can say? It depends on what has happened. We will try, yes. But I could not say. If we have rescued any, my brother or others, we may be forced to skirt the woods. He may not be in condtion good enough for that sort of travel.'

Legolas absently dumped some loose sand on the crude map and they continued on.

They reached the edge of the wood as the sun set. Legolas turned to the rest. 'We have traveled far together. I hope that we may meet again. If you have hurt companions, you might try to send word to my father. He has skilled healers, and would send help. But it is a dangerous path. If you are short on time, do not try to cut through the forest! Continue on.

'Farewell! Likely we shall return before you do by a few weeks, or at least several days. Be careful and quick!' Then he motioned to Gimli and they rode off into the trees. Cundariel stood still until they disappeared, then turned to Celebros.

'Let us go on. We should find a good place to stop before the sun goes down.'

They turned and started into the thick woods until the sun was gone and night was come, then stopped to sleep. When Celebros awoke in the morning, Cundariel was asleep.

They traveled quickly that day. Celebros, having not only Elven-blood but also ranger-blood, was nearly as quick in the woods as Cundariel.

The woods were much more friendly than they had been in Bilbo Baggins' day. The Wood-elves had cleansed it, ridding it of the giant spiders that had used to inhabit it, and making it a place of growth and green, instead of a dank, dark, unfriendly place. There was also more edible food and water to be found.

'I should tell you something of Galadon,' Cundariel said to Celebros that evening, by the fireside. 'It is a long tale, but worth knowing, if we have a chance of meeting him. I hope we will not, but yet...'

'I understand,' Celebros said quickly.

'No,' she said sadly. 'One of our main problems is what you do not understand. If you understood what danger we were opposing, you would want to run like a dog chased by wolves.'

'All right,' Celebros said slowly.

She was silent for a moment, as if in deep thought. 'Galadon was born in 2116 of the Third Age. He is young, for an Elf, yet older than I. He is 953 years, and has long dark brown hair. He is tall, slender, and regal. There is a way about him,' -she hesitated- 'that makes you wish to obey him. He is very commanding, you would say. And in excellent shape. The thing you must be mainly wary of is his blade. He is a swordsmaster, Celebros, and few of our people are. The second level, if that means anything to you.'

Celebros nodded.

'Almost twenty-six years before my brother disappeared, which would be sixty years ago, Galadon would go into the Wilds more. Around once every month, he would leave for a few days. Then for a year before he left, he left only twice.

'Then he left in the night. The watch saw him going, and started to follow him, but he turned, showed them who he was, and told them that he was leaving, and not to hinder him. They obeyed. Then four years later, my brother vanished. This was peculiar, and that night the guards had seen someone in the area. It did not look like something my brother would have done; he took nothing. We began to think he had been captured, and I drew the conclusion that it had been Galadon.

'Galadon moved to the wilds of the north in the Second Age. I did not live there, but the rest of our family lived in this wood, in the Woodland Realm. It is said that when Galadon left, he went to Mount Gundabad, and there found orcs. I believe that he allied with these orcs, and gathered support-ers. Then he likely built a fortress into the mountain.

'I have heard tell that other Elves have been taken, or those who have some Elven blood. I have no proof, but I have heard stories... We should sleep now. I will tell you more later.'

The horses stamped their feet, and the wind rustled in the trees. A black raven sat among the leaves not ten feet from the Elf and the Man, but they were oblivious to all of this. They slept through the night. At dawn the bird flew away through the trees, going high into the sky without a sound, and headed north. Eventually the speck disappeared into the sky. The sun rose, and looked down on the forest innocently. And they slept on.

+++++

They awoke later than they had planned. Both of them had fallen asleep, so there had been no guard to tell if there had been spies the night before. However, with the sun shining merrily through the leaves when there was an open space, it did not worry them much. It seemed unlikely that an evil emmissary would like bright light, or would risk being seen.

Celebros yawned. It was a warm day, although in some parts it was masked by a cool breeze. They would reach the Old Forest Road sooner than they had hoped if all went well.

The following day, they were suddenly forced to make a choice. They could not ride the horses through the trees any longer. The forest was getting very much thicker. They could leave the horses, lead them, or skirt the edge of the forest.

'We must decide which would delay us most,' Cundariel said. 'If we leave them now, it will slow us down far too much on the way back to the City, and we will need horses if we have any of those that Galadon took prisoner. Therefore, we must decide which will take longer. I think it would be best to skirt the edges, but my fear would tell me to stay hidden. What would you say?'

Celebros yawned in answer, then was silent for a moment. 'I would say that we should go through the thinner part of the woods until we reach the road. It may be that it is only this part that is too thick to ride through: up ahead we may find we can go as we had planned.'

Cundariel nodded musingly. 'That would work,' she said at length, 'and would suit our purposes. I agree.' She patted her horse's head. 'Let us continue.'

Turning the horse, Celebros slowly began forward. Cundar-iel followed him. He had not gone five feet when he stopped abruptly.

'What?' said Cundariel, who could not see what Celebros saw. Celebros glanced at her, then turned back forward. He moved deliberately aside slightly.

An old man stood there. He was bent, and leaned on a worn old staff. His hair, white and wispy, was long. The wind did not seem to heed him; his clothing and hair were did not stir as Celebros' and Cundariel's did. He looked up at them with pale grey eyes that did not blink.

'Hello,' he said after a long moment of silence. 'And how are you this day, Cundariel? It has been long since I have seen Elves in these parts.'

Cundariel had opened her mouth to speak, but when he spoke her name she stood a moment, her mouth still open.

'Good day, Celebros son of Caladin. A pity I will never meet your grandfather - a great Man. No, we have not met before.

'My name is Glorhir. I -' -he paused a moment, searching for the right words. He wheezed a moment, then continued- '- yes, I see things. An oracle, you might call me. I see the future.'

'An oracle?' Cundariel sounded suspicious.

The old man wheezed, then sat down. 'Come, we should talk a while. Come down and sit.'

Cautiously they dismounted and sat. He smiled, still coughing and wheezing, and looked at the two of them piercing-ly.

'The one you seek is not yet dead,' he said quietly, 'and yet you may not save him if you are not quick. Quiet, child!'

The spell of his slow speech was broken as Cundariel opened her mouth. At the man's sharp words she closed it slowly.

'You will meet some who are hostile. They will not like it, if he leaves, and if you come, yet he must, and you will. He is skilled. You must not blame him for his faults.

'Evil will come and go, and its going will not be welcome. Not the fault of any, yet the will of Eldurhir.' Cundariel knitted her eyebrows in sheer bewilderment, but Glorhir paid no heed. 'Many have been taken. You must not blame yourselves. Not all can be free, not yet.' Suddenly he broke into a fit of wheezing coughs. It died down slowly, leaving the old wandering oracle breathless. 'Blame, doubt, despair, lies, and fear are your obstacles; bravery, honesty, caution, hope, and loyalty your virtues. You are not blameless. There are things you will do to be ashamed of. Yet there are things you could not and should not stop. Do not blame yourselves for them!

'There will be times when you should be afraid, but these are not the times meant. Doubt ever lurks, but in some cases doubt is a measure of caution. Do not doubt those who aid you, save those who do so for means of their own. You may be tempted to lie, but truth and honest must remain. Deception is wicked and will lead to worse things. But despair not! some things are meant to be. Remember this...' He began to cough again. Gazing with those endless grey caverns into Celebros' eyes.

'I say to you: be vigilant constantly, and you will find what you search for and more.' He grasped his staff, pushed himself to his feet, then coughed once more and turned to the trees. He vanished into a thick patch of foliage, almost as if he had disappeared altogether.

+++++

The ravens came back to cluster round the stone. Tall it was, with a flat top and a sand-pit in the center.

The wind they knew so well, the evil wind willed by their evil master, stirred the loose sand, blowing it away to reveal the heavier, wetter matter underneath. They hissed as they saw it, a foul sound that made one think more of orcs and goblins than ravens. They fixed the image in their corrupted minds, and with their enhanced senses and minds they perceived that their prey would split into two groups. As one, they rose into the air and flew north, a flurry of black.

The black crow with grey tail feathers stood still by the sand bowl, gazing at the map. He thought condescendingly of the other foul birds of prey, and his primitive mind, though much stronger than theirs, sneered feebly at them. He rose in the air as the others had done and followed, and soon disappeared. To any watcher, he was soon but a shadow in the north.

+++++

Celebros patted his horse on the head. 'Whoa, boy,' he muttered. The horse slowed and stopped, and Cundariel halted hers behind his. 'What is it?' she said, and sleep was apparent in even her voice, though she was obviously trying to mask it.

'Too tired,' Celebros yawned despite his efforts. They had been traveling since the morning. 'We should stop.'

'I'm not tired. We should continue a bit more. We may reach the road tomorrow.' Then she confirmed Celebros' suspicion that she, too, was tired, by giving a great yawn, then nearly falling off her horse.

Celebros grinned drowsily. Cundariel sheepish grin was triumph enough. She gave something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle, and Celebros laughed, then nearly followed her suit by just about falling off his horse. He jumped off it, wincing as he landed heavily on his left leg.

'Ah! No, I'm all right, it just surprised me...'

Cundariel wearily tied the horses. Celebros, still yawning so that it nearly split his face, threw himself to the ground and wrapped his cloak around him. He was asleep within a few minutes. Cundariel lay down and fell asleep too, if not quite as quickly.

They awoke the next morning suddenly. A large cawing noise had startled them both out of sleep, but no bird was in sight. They paid it little heed.

They continued on that day, and by nightfall, after stopping three times to rest, they had reached the road. It was dark and rough. A nightingale screeched its sleepy call, and all around signs of nocturnal life awoke. Owls, coons, foxes, and bats awoke and went hunting. A single crow sat in a tree near to the two. He did not make a sound, and did not stir, until first light broke the sky. His watch was done.

And so was that of the one who watched him.

+++++

Cundariel sat up into the night, watching the foul bird. It apparently did not know it was being watched, but she did. All it was doing was making sure they didn't relocate, she knew, but nonetheless she did not want it watching. At dawn it flew away, not making a sound. They leaves parted as it touched them, but made no rustle or swish.

Celebros awoke but a few minutes after the bird retreated. He saw her expression immediately. 'Wha' is it?' he groaned, stretching and sitting up.

'We were watched,' she said softly, with a dangerous edge to her voice. 'A crow, all night.'

Celebros shook his head. 'Again?' he said.

'Yes.'

'Are we moving on today? Going along the road?'

'Of course. What else would we do?'

Celebros shook his head again. 'I don't know,' he muttered. 'I'm tired. I just...I don't know.'

'Shall we begin?'

'Yes, I suppose.'

They traveled along the road, although not all to quickly, for the entire morning. The leaves were a deep, dark green, but yet seemed friendly in this wood, on the road more than before.

They stopped at noon for luncheon, and sat down against trees to eat it. Sparrows chirped their songs, but aside from that all was silent and still. Celebros lay back and shut his eyes, and Cundariel seemed much more at ease than she had since they had met Glorhir; she sat back aginst the tree, thinking. Suddenly she straightened and looked around.

Celebros was resting, eyes closed, against the tree across from her. She had heard something, though. Standing slowly, she looked around again.

The noise came a second time, and this time she knew precisely what it was; someone was bending a bowstring. She stood and picked up her own, funmbling for an arrow.

Eight Elves stepped onto the road, each with bows bent. Four were aimed at Cundariel, four at Celebros. With the sound, the boy opened his eyes and froze.

The tallest of the Elves, who had long golden hair and was pointing his bow at Cundairiel, spoke to her:

'Why do you consort with this?' he said, indicating Celebros as if he were a slug. 'They kill our trees. They disrespect. They have no care for us or our culture. Why do you not travel with our kind?'

Celebros licked his lips and made no move, but looked absolutely terrified. His face was white, his eyes huge and frightened, his body rigid. Cundariel gave him a glance. 'I consort with him,' she said calmly, 'because he is my friend, my compainion, and we have a mutual goal.'

'It is a Man,' another Elf said with obvious disgust. 'Why would you want to be friends with one of its kind?'

Cundariel brough up her head. 'Why do you aim your arrows at me?' she said softly. 'I am native to this wood. I live in the Woodland Realm, and by law anyone who travels with me or any of my kin is under the protection of the Realm. He who does hurt to a guest of the Realm will suffer Its wrath. Do you not know this?'

'We have,' said the first Elf with a bite in his voice. 'We will take the Man. We will not harm him, but if you resist, girl, we will kill you both. We will take him until he is out of the area completely, likely to the south of the woods. You are free to go as you please, but you may not come with us. If you wish, you may go to our lord and discuss this with him. I care not.'

'This is not right.' An Elf, apparently younger than the others, with the very unusual flame colored hair and hazel eyes, broke in. 'This is wrong. We do not want the wrath of Thranduil's folk on us. We should leave them, so long as they promise not to stray into the wood. Take them west. They will travel on the road. The rules cannot be followed to the word. Thranduil claimed this land long before our people -'

'You know our law, Gwalas,' a fourth Elf cried to him. 'What must be done, will be. Shall we have the Man bound, Brethil?' he asked the first Elf.

'Yes, bind him. I must speak to this one. Come here, girl,' Brethil said.

Cundariel could only do as he bid. He drew her aside, and put his bow back. The three that had been guarding her, including Gwalas, turned to tie Celebros, who was still sitting motionless against the tree, a look of fear and horror on his face. He was pulled roughly to his feet and his arms were tied tightly behind his back. Gwalas looked angered, yet he did as he was told.

'I am sorry if I have angered Thranduil, but I must do this. We are called the Galadil, and what we do, we do for the good of all Elves and for our forest, what there is left. I will leave you, and I beg you not to follow. You may find it again, once you get out of the woods.'

They disappeared into the trees.

Cundariel waited for a count of one hundred, then followed silently. The Galadil could not go on forever, and when they stopped, she would have them...

+++++

Cundariel ducked behind a tree quickly as the guard turned to look her way. If they saw her, Celebros was as good as dead.

The dim light from the firepit flickered shadows across the guard's face. She looked cautiously out from behind the tree. The guard's face was turned away, glancing at the figure on the ground that was Celebros. They had given him food and drink, and he had gone immediately to sleep. Cundariel suspected that they had drugged him, but he could just be tired. They had not mistreated him in any way save capturing him, and tying his hands, that she knew of. She had followed fairly close behind, and very quietly; (this was a skill that the Galadil did not seem to have), and left the horses tied about a mile or so away.

There were two guards watching while the rest slept. Gwalas had stayed awake longer than the others until they had told him to get to sleep. Brethil had fallen asleep first.

After a time, the guards woke Brethil and the one who had spoken fourth to guard. Brethil was silent and stood rigid, but the other looked around warily. He seemed to sense that someone was near, but said nothing. After about two hours, Brethil shifted, made some sort of a motion to the other, and they woke Gwalas and one of the Elves who had not spoken.

Cundariel noticed Gwalas' quick glance to the trees, but if he saw her or guessed she was there, he showed no sign. He merely turned and began pacing the site. The other did the same.

Around half an hour after Brethil and the other fell asleep, Celebros stirred and woke with a groan. The other Elf, not Gwalas, walked over to him with disgust and gave him a nudge with his foot. 'You had better sleep, little one. We will be travel farther in the morning.' Celebros did not look up, but gave another groan, his eyes afraid, and the Elf laughed disdainfully.

'Tell me, have you ever felled a tree, Man?' He managed to make 'Man' sound like 'dog'.

Celebros gave a small sound, like a whimper, but said nothing, staring with hateful eyes at the Elves. He looked into the trees, straight in the direction Cundariel was, but apparently did not see her. The Elf grimaced and glared at the boy, his eyes narrowed.

'Answer me, child!'

'Stop!' Gwalas said suddenly, striding forward, making the other Elf turn around and snarl at him. 'The Rules say we do not treat Men as equals. He is a child, Aearos. Leave him. We do not interfere. We cannot risk open war.'

'Yet, Gwalas. Yet. They are talking of it, and you know it. And still - he is a Man,' the other Elf said dangerously. 'He is vermin. His kind fell our trees without need. They are filthy, Gwalas, and you of all people -'

'I of all people ought to know that making other beings fear for their lives and safety is unjust and not right. And you of all people ought to know that bad things happen when you anger Thranduil. Boy, who are you?'

Celebros swallowed, still looking petrified. 'Relax, boy,' Gwalas said softly. Celebros looked at him, and slowly the panic faded from his eyes. He took a couple deep breaths, then said softly, 'You wouldn't believe me.'

'I would,' Gwalas said quietly. 'Would you?' he asked, turning to the other Elf.

'I suppose,' he said grudgingly. 'You will be reported if you interfere much more, Gwalas.'

They looked at Celebros. 'My name is Celebros Telcontar. My grandfather is - Honestly, you won't believe me,' he said, quickly looking at Gwalas.

'Who is your grandfather? I will believe you if you say he is the King of the Reunited Kingdoms, boy. Honestly, I will.' Celebros laughed. 'He is,' he said quietly.

'Now honestly!' the other Elf burst out. 'This is ridi-culous! What would the grandson of Elessar Telcontar be traveling without any more escort than a Elf-maiden!'

'That is a rather good question,' Gwalas said quietly, 'but it is his own business. I said I would believe him, and I do. Celebros, eh?'

'Yes. Silver-rain, isn't that what it means?'

'Indeed. Now, boy -'

'Gwalas, you forget yourself. This is a prisoner.'

'He is harmless. What hurt can it do? Why should I not talk to him?'

'Because he is a Man.' This Elf did not seem to have the contempt the others had, for him it was a simple statement of fact. 'We are not supposed to treat Men as equals, Gwalas, and you really ought to know that.'

'I know that that is what the Rules say,' Gwalas said softly, his hazel eyes calm. 'That is what they say, but that is not what I say.'

'The Rules do not say 'do as you see fit', Gwalas. We are supposed to follow the Rules as they are set out.'

'Why?'

'Because those who came before us set them out for our good.'

'I see,' Gwalas said softly. 'For our good, but not for the good of anyone else? We are the only ones that matter, and all other life is forfeit, because of what they are or are not? Is that what the Rules imply, Aearos? That other life does not matter, it is irrelevant? Elbereth, the blindness of our people. Eldir breaks every rule, but of course, it's for our people's good, so everything's fine and well and good. Brethil obeys even if he should not. It's that bloody competition that started all this! It's their bloody pig-headedness. Brethil obeys the rules regardless, Eldir breaks them regardless, neither gets into trouble, both are looked down upon.' He quieted even more, glancing at Brethil. 'Remembered when he took Halos' half-Man son into custody and whined when the Council reprimanded him? "But, Councillors, the Rules say 'any Man or half-Man on the territory is to be brought immediately to Headquarters'. They say so!" He disgusts me. And so do you, sometimes.'

The other Elf, Aearos, sat still for a moment. Then he said softly, as if pleading, 'I do not know, Gwalas, but we must follow the rules. What will happen if we do not? We will be killed for sure!'

'Then you let me break them. I think it is wrong to bind this boy so. Celebros is not of age yet, and they did not know they were not supposed to be here. He was with one of Thranduil's folk, and he is the heir to a king. We release him or risk war declared by they who we think of attacking. Let him go, I say, and I will go with him.'

'But then I would be blamed for not stopping you, Gwalas. I would be put out. I see sense in your words, but I have no desire to put aside what I have worked so hard at all my years. I do not know.'

'I could knock you down, and it would look like the Elf had done it, and taken the boy and I. I could try to find her - she probably followed - I think she is near -'

Cundariel deliberately shifted loudly. Two heads snapped around, and Gwalas laughed. 'Come along now!' he said. 'Quietly! Your people have better skill at hiding, I see.'

She stepped into the clearing. Celebros was still sitting, apparently struggling to stay awake. She shot him a quick glance.

'They drugged him,' Aearos said. 'I don't know how much. Gwalas, I think this is a bad idea. Have her take the boy and knock us both senseless.'

'I have no desire to be knocked over the head without need. I have waited far long enough to leave the ways. I hope you will too someday, Aearos.'

'Goodbye, then, I suppose,' Aearos said sadly.

Cundariel pulled off the rope tying Celebros' wrists and helped him to his feet. 'I'll catch up,' Gwalas said softly and quickly.

Cundariel pulled Celebros along; he was stumbling sleepily. From behind them there was a thump, and Gwalas hurried up behind them. 'What is your name?' he asked her quietly.

'Cundariel.'

'Where are you going? I do not know when I have last seen a Man his age in Greenwoood the Great.'

'He is who he is. We are headed to Mount Gundabad to rescue my brother and as many others as we can from -'

Gwalas' face wrinkled in disgust. 'I know whom you speak of,' he said. 'Speak not the name! The Eldurhir'rim are many.'

'I'm afraid that again, I am given a name I do not know. Who are the Eldurhir'rim?'

'People of the Lord of Dark Elves. His supporters. Where are we going?'

'To get the horses.'

'I do not have one, but I know where I can obtain one. There are several near the Sirrim's home. Naiads. Stream folk; they live in or around water. They used to carry a lull around them: no predators would approach. There are many creatures there still.'

'There is no lull around them any longer?'

Gwalas gave her a queer look from under his high eyebrows. 'We shall see. We - the Galadil do not approach the place. Most of them do not. Perhaps we can stay there for the night. I will run. Show me where the horses are. We must hurry. We can be out of the woods in an hour at most, and it will be another half hour until we reach the Sirrim's homes.'

'Very well.'

The horses were still and silent when the three reached them about twenty minutes later. Cundariel patted her horse's nose, and it whinneyed affectionately. It made no other move.

Celebros leaned against one of the tall trees, nearly asleep on his feet. 'Do you know what they gave him?' Cundariel asked quietly.

'Probably durthond,' Gwalas said uncertainly. 'It is merely a herb for sleep if swallowed, but if it is given an open wound, it gives a very high fever, swelling, and causes several other unpleasant side effects. And if taken by mouth but overdosed, it does the same. If given too much, it will kill. It is fairly harmless through mouth, though, if they gave him the correct amount. They do not overdose...first-timers. It will wear off completely in a few days. Until then he may be a bit tired or clumsy. I don't have any goldroot; it doesn't grow in these parts. Farther south, perhaps. It is not very effective in many cases. Durthond is very common here.' It seemed that Gwalas was very learned in herblore. He sounded like he had spent much time studying it.

'What was your...function...with the Galadil?'

'I healed, when necessary; I have better eyes than most, so I spied and guarded. I scouted. Once I was caught spying and the ones who caught me punished me for it. Then my leader punished me for being so clumsy. I do not spy much anymore. I would heal, as I said, and watch, and fight if necessary. I would search for food. My function was basic. The need of a people is more urgent than the need of a person, as Brethil always told me.' His mouth twisted in distaste.

'My younger brother was taken and killed by a group of renegade orcs several years ago. I wanted to go avenge him, and Brethil would quote that verse, over and over, until I gave up.'

'What was his name?'

'Methel,' Gwalas said, and smiled distantly.

Cundariel nodded, then mounted. Suddenly a thought struck her.

'I don't think he can ride himself. He's practically asleep now. Celebros!' The boy moved a bit, but did not look up. 'See? Could you possibly ride with him? It will be quicker in any case.'

'Certainly.'

He helped the boy onto the horse and they rode off into the night. Eventually the sound of the horses' hooves died away from that place, and all was silent once more.

+++++

After an hour, the ride, through which Celebros had faded in between conciousness and sleep, they reached a small stream. 'Stop,' Gwalas whispered, bringing the horse to a sudden, silent halt. Cundariel did the same, a trifle louder.

There was no sign of inhabitance that Cundariel could see. She had never met a naiad, and had never expected to.

Indeed, as Gwalas had said, there were several kinds of animals in the area. Including a horse, luckily. It looked at them as they rode up, then settled its head down again.

A sudden ripple, and a small splash, issued from the glassy surface of the pool. A small being, about the height of a Halfling or Dwarf, surfaced. In the darkness, Cundariel could not make out what it looked like.

'Hello, Sirgil. I greet you.'

'Hello, Gwalas. I greet you. What news? Who have you brought with you?' With her keen sight Cundariel thought the creature was squinting. The moon was nearly full, but at the moment there was a cloud dimming it.

'These are Celebros, of Minas Tirith, and Cundariel. I have done as you long ago suggested, Sirgil. Celebros was taken captive by the Galadil for tresspassing, and I have renounced the ways. He, only a young one! It was not easy work, I tell you. But we seek only shelter for the night. May we camp on your shores?'

'Certainly.'

'Thank you,' Gwalas said, and even as he did so, Sirgil dove back into the water. 'They do not much like to talk. They used to be a merry people, but -' Gwalas gave a sad sigh, and fell silent a moment.

'Yes?' Cundariel asked.

'The Aearguth,' Gwalas said sadly. 'A battle. The People of the Sea fought the Sea Battle against the Stream-folk. It used to be peaceful, here, but the People of the Sea - the Aearrim - were warlike. The Sirrim, they used to live farther north, and once a year they would go to the Sea. The People of the Sea disliked this, and tried to drive them out. The Sirrim fought, and won, but they hadn't wanted to, and found then that going to the Sea brought back painful memories of what was no longer, and could never again be. They seldom leave, now, and do not like to talk with outsiders. It is said that they were once the same race, bound to the water, bound to peace.' There was little more talk. They dismounted over by the animals, who moved away slightly, apparently unafraid but merely not wanting to get in the way. There was a little trouble with Celebros; he did not seem aware at all. However, once he got off, he immediately lay down and fell asleep. Gwalas covered him with a light blanket.

The clouds moved aside to reveal a bright moon. Its rays flooding over Cundariel's face, she fell asleep quickly. But Gwalas did not. He sat awake, gazing at the rippling form of the moon reflected in the river. Although Cundariel slept quietly, the younger Man did not. He turned over and muttered to himself, as was usual when drugged with sleeping herbs. After a long time, a shadow passed across the moon, and Gwalas turned and lay down and slept.

+++++

Celebros yawned and opened his eyes.

Bright light shone in his eyes. The Sun was out. He covered his eyes with his sleeve and stood up. A wind ruffled his hair.

Cundariel and Gwalas were still asleep. This was unusual, for it was certainly near ten in the morning. There was no sign of any other life near them except three horses grazing a hundred yards away.

There were his, and Cundariel's, Rohiriel, and the third was a wild one. No doubt for Gwalas to use.

Cundariel stirred and opened her eyes drowsily. 'Good morning,' she said, stifling a yawn. 'How are you?'

'Fine.'

'We should wake Gwalas up. He wanted to talk breifly to the Sirrim and get a fairly early start.'

'That won't be possible now,' Celebros said, shading his eyes and looking at the sun.

'Then we had better get going as soon as possible.' It was Gwalas. He had, apparently, finally woken.

Celebros raised his head, nodding. 'I'll get the horses,' he said. Cundariel noticed how clumsy he was doing so, nothing at all like he generally was, but that was just the after-effects of the durthond. He would be fine in a day or so, as Gwalas had said.

Celebros noticed her looking at him and grinned sheepishly. She shook her head and moved over to help him with the ropes.

Gwalas turned to the stream, as if expecting something, and suddenly five Sirrim surfaced and swam toward him. Celebros patted his horse on the nose and walked over next to the Elf, and Cundariel came up behind them.

'Will you be leaving immediately?' one of them asked quickly.

'We must,' Gwalas answered, subdued.

'We do not see the need for haste. But perhaps you have not told us everything. If this is so, there is reason. Go well and in peace, and may your paths bring you no sorrow. Instead let happiness and good fortune dominate your road.'

It seemed to Celebros that this was some sort of ceremony. Each of the Sirrim murmered the last sentence, then they swam away. Gwalas motioned to Celebros and Cundariel to come to the horses, and they followed him silently. He waited until the Sirrim were out of sight to mount, and then he explained, 'After the Sirrim say their ceremonial rites, they believe that no word should be spoken afterward.'

Celebros shook his head. It all sounded like nonsense to him. They mounted and rode away slowly. His head ached a bit, which was strange, but it blocked out the memories of the night before.

Cundariel eventually asked Gwalas where they were going. The red-haired Elf had gotten ahead of them by a bit, so her voice was loud and Celebros' head pounded.

'We're going to Methnan,' Gwalas called back, slowing his horse so that they could catch up. 'The Last Valley, to Minas Methith. A small valley, and unnatural - it's not near a major river or any highlands, it is just like a bowl in the ground. The King is Tarmamethnan. Some of them are Elves, and almost all are partly Elven, but their current King is not. I have heard -' He broke off suddenly, and he flushed. 'In any case, he will be able to give us information on the movements of Galadon, if he is indeed at Mount Gundabad.'

+++++

The wind died down suddenly, and Gwalas motioned ahead. 'We're coming up on the Minas Methith. Tower of the Last Mist. The capital of this valley; although there are no other cities. Small villages, yes. Farms.'

'How large is Methnan?' Celebros asked wearily.

'We entered it two days after we left the Sirrim,' Gwalas said, 'so this is our second afternoon in Methnan. We're almost on the border. I'd say forty miles by perhaps twenty. We've been traveling fairly slow; but it's only a guess. We've gone around thirty-five miles, and slow, short hours. And the city is about five miles from the border. Then to Mount Gundabad...it's still several days.'

Cundariel glanced around again. She hadn't spoken much since they had entered Methnan. Celebros guessed that she had been admiring the land, for the valley was beautiful, amazingly so. She trailed behind slightly, silent and watchful.

'We'll be coming up on the gates soon,' Gwalas said quietly. 'The Methnan'rim ask many questions, but they are a peaceful people. Answer honestly, and we will have no trouble.'

Celebros nodded. Cundariel made no move, so it was difficult to tell what she thought about it, but Celebros was sure she had heard. She never missed so much as a mouse's squeak or the buzz of a fly.

They approached the gates slowly. They were tall and majestic; and towering over them were majestic towers and buildings inside the city. Celebros got the impression suddenly that he was very small indeed - although Minas Tirith was much larger, he had not been in the City for weeks. As they rode up, five men came forward. Silently they halted in front of the three travelers, who dismounted. The men's eyes moved over them.

'Strangers,' one of the guards said quietly, 'who are you and why have you come?'

'I am Cundariel,' the tall elf said, not looking at the men but instead patting her horse.

'My name is Gwalas Windleaf.'

In the fashion of the City, Celebros touched his forhead lightly and brought his hand to his chest. 'I am Celebros Telcontar. We are travelers on our way through the area, in search of news of Galadon of the North, and wish permission to enter the city.'

'Strange is your speech,' one of the guardsman said, 'and we guess that you come from the city of Minas Tirith far to the south, Celebros Telcontar. Is this so?'

'Indeed it is,' Celebros said quietly.

'News we have of Galadon whom you speak of, who we call Eldurhir. Dark is all the word we get of him, and any tidings would be welcome. What is your errand?'

Cundariel spoke now. 'We go to free prisoners from him, if we can, and to spy as best we can for the King Elessar.'

The men withdrew a moment and spoke in hushed voices. Then the one who had first spoken said, 'Indeed if this is done our people will be glad, for Tarmamethnan our king has a daughter taken by Eldurhir. The gates will be opened in a moment.'

Gwalas glanced at Celebros and nodded. After a moment, the great doors opened.

Inside them, the city was revealed to be a place of splendor as well. The tall towers in the center were not the only things of majesty. Even the simplest houses were surrounded by flowers, some made of wood and others of fine stonework. As they got nearer to the center of the city the quiet greens became busy, lively marketplaces and entertainers in the streets, which eventually gave way to stables. Gwalas kept looking around at everything, making Celebros get the notion that the Elf had seldom, if ever, been in a large city.

Celebros chose a stable; it looked better than some and the horses within it were well fed, their stalls well-cleaned and fresh straw within. A small man at the back with only a few teeth and about as many hairs as he had teeth grinned and took the horses, accepting the small silver coin from Celebros with another smile. Silent, Celebros and his friends made their way toward the innermost part of Minas Methith.

+++++

'My lord,' the aide called through the crack in the magnificent oaken doors, 'my lord, there are three outsiders here, and they wish an audience with Your Majesty.'

'Can it wait?' a soft voice said from within; soft but regal and royal at the same time.

'Can it wait?' the smiling man repeated to Celebros.

'I'm afraid it cannot. We have news in regard to Galadon, your Eldurhir, brought from the King Elessar of Gondor and the West. We have heard that a princess of Methnan has been taken by him -'

The aide's face paled to a shade of white as light as was poosible at the name of Eldurhir. The soft voice from inside suddenly said sharply, 'Let them in, Elos.'

The three outsiders walked slowly into the room. On the throne in the large hall sat a middle-aged Man. Tall, he had gloomy green eyes and light brown hair. He had the look of a King, indeed; regal and majestic, but it was as if a shadow had blanketed him. Celebros touched his forehead as he had at the gates, and placing it on his chest and bowing he said, 'Your Majesty, I am Celebros Telcontar of Gondor, and these are Cundariel of Eryn Lasgalen and Gwalas. Was my information correct, lord, that a princess of your kingdom of Methnan had been kidnapped by Eldurhir -?'

'The eldest princess of Methnan,' the King sighed gloomily, gently. 'Aeargil, my beloved daughter, my star. Yes. A year ago, she was taken. Information would be greatly appreciated, but although we know where Eldurhir is, we dare not attack. He has a power beyond us. I want my daughter back, but I begin to wonder if it ever will be my fate to look on her again, to behold my star's sweet, dear face.'

Celebros was silent a moment. Then he said quietly, 'Our task was not, in fact, to inform you of the danger, although of course we will. We are on our way to rescue prisoners from Galadon. And we are going to spy as well. Have hope; you may yet see your daughter.'

Tarmamethnan's generally downcast face rose, and as he stared at the three determined-looking figures, his mouth curved into a smile that had not been seen in Methnan for almost a year. 'Tell me more,' he said quietly.

+++++

Celebros lay awake on the covorlet. The night was hot, but that was not why he was waking. In the room next to his was Gwalas, and Cundariel was across the hall. They had talked little during dinner, and servants had shown them the rooms that Tarmamethnan had granted them. On the third floor, and the quarters reserved for guests were very comfortable, except it was hot.

Over and over he turned thoughts restlessly in his mind; like tumbling dice, but try as he might he could not sleep. Instead he started to think about Galadon and what they had learned from Tarmamethnan.

Galadon was malicious. He kidnapped for no reason, and would abuse the prisoners cruelly, but not to the point of death. He would keep them alive and imprisoned for years, unless they starved themselves to death. He had a fortress, vast as a city, built into the side of Mount Gundabad. It was rumored that there were treasures he kept there that he found on his captives; one partcularly strong rumor was that he had the Mirdon, a jewelled stone of great magnificence and value, that he had taken from an Elven-prince. The Mirdon was supposed to be magical, a Valar-made artifact, but Tarmamethnan did not know what its powers were.

Nor did he know what else Galadon had in the depths of Mount Gundabad, if indeed he had anything. All Tarmamethnan knew was hearsay, of course, for he had never been to Eldurhir's fortress, or met him.

Celebros' face was sweating as he thought of what he had heard of Galadon. He had a strange certainty that he was going to meet Galadon, but that was ludicrous. All they were going to do was spy, and rescue prisoners if they could -

- so what if they were caught? What would Galadon do to them? Would he kill them, or simply keep them imprisoned for thirty years, torturing them when he felt like it? Why were they going to do this? And how?

The boy shivered, despite the heat, despite the fact it was so hot he was sweating. How was he ever able to believe he wanted to do this?

+++++

The light was shining in the closed window when a knock came on Celebros' door. He was curled in an armchair, its high back facing the door, and didn't feel like getting up - 'Come in,' he said.

Gwalas opened the door hesitantly and walked in. 'Good morning, Celebros,' he said.

Celebros shook his head. Gwalas walked over and sat down in the empty chair next to the boy's.

'Did you sleep at all?' the Elf asked.

Celebros shook his head again, and curled his knees up to his chest, staring blankly out the window at the valley. Gwalas shook his head too, 'That's not good for you. Why not?'

Still silent, Celebros shrugged. Gwalas smiled wryly, looking at the ceiling, and Celebros glanced at him, realizing suddenly that the Elf was trying not to laugh.

'You going to come eat? There's some good food here; we might as well eat it while we can.'

Celebros glanced at him again. 'Yes. I'll be there in a bit.'

'Listen,' said Gwalas, looking around as if expecting someone to jump out, then fixing his eyes on Celebros' drawn face, 'are you worried about Galadon?'

'Yeah.'

'Well, I suppose I am too, but we really can't worry about that now, about what he - yes. We need to come up with a plan of what to do when we reach the fortress -'

'Where's Cundariel?'

A strange expression flickered across Gwalas' face, and he muttered, 'She's out in the city. I don't know why.'

Celebros turned back to the window, and Gwalas stood up and walked out of the room. A moment later, there was another knock. 'Come in,' Celebros said once more, and heard the door open. He looked around; a handsome man in silver-blue garment was standing there.

'Good day,' the man said pleasantly, 'my name is Lorgan; I am the son of Tarmamethnan. You are Celebros?'

Celebros nodded, standing up slowly. 'I am,' he said uncertainly.

'My father sent me to ask if you would like a tour of our city.'

'That would be nice, I am sure, but...'

'Is there a problem, Celebros? I can always come back later,' Lorgan said hastily, sounding worried. 'I hope I have not interrupted anything.'

'No, but I was planning to meet Gwalas in a few minutes... but I would very much like a tour, if it could be arranged... this noon?'

'That sounds feasible. Shall I meet you here?'

'Certainly. How long will it take?'

'Well,' Lorgan said, smiling, 'I was planning to show you the main city, which would take an hour, and then -' His smile broadened. 'We have a place in the woods, a ten-minute ride from here. In the forest; a beautiful place. Ronduial, the Hall of Twilight. Were we attacked, that would be our defense post.'

'All right.'

Lorgan nodded and smiled. 'I will see you at noontime,' he said, and strode out of the room.

Celebros, after a few minutes, left the room and hurried down the hallway. It was not by any means crowded as it would have been in the City; he only met four people in the three-minute walk to the dining hall. Gwalas was there, talking to one of the servants avidly, and they both looked up when Celebros came in. The servant smiled and nodded to Gwalas and Celebros came and sat down next to him. 'Can I get you something, young sir?' he asked.

Celebros shrugged. 'Whatever is usual,' he said quietly, and the man glanced at Gwalas.

'The same,' the Elf said. Then he turned to Celebros and waited until the servant's footsteps receded. 'Did you think of anything during the night?' he whispered, obviously not keen to be heard.

'Many things, and each ending worse than the last.'

'What happens in the best of them?'

'We get caught and set loose before even reaching the fortress, and are guarded all the way south.'

Gwalas made a sound of displeasure. 'That would not do.' 'I hadn't guessed,' Celebros said dryly. 'I can't see any way to do this.'

'How does this sound - We find some soldiers and take their uniforms and find out everything we need to know from them, then make our way into the fortress disguised.'

'So what do we do with the soldiers?'

'Well, I was leaving that up to you and Cundariel. I've figured it out that far.'

'And how do we know we won't get caught? What if they know all the guards?'

'They won't.'

'Someone has to know the ones we'd use. Friends, workers, relatives -'

'I get your point. So that won't work. What about -' Gwalas was suddenly cut off as the servant returned, set their meals down in front of them, and left again.

Celebros looked at the meal. Fried ham and eggs, thick slices of bread spread with honey, bacon, some sort of red berry, and apple nectar juice. 'This is normal?' he asked incredulously.

'They treat their guests well,' Gwalas said, inspecting the berry.

'What is that?' Celebros asked, picking up one himself.

'A cherry. Don't you have them in the south?'

'Never seen one before. Or tasted...'

'You have to be careful when you eat them, there are -' Gwalas sighed as Celebros choked on the pit.

'- seeds in the middle,' Gwalas finished dryly. Celebros pulled the pit out of his mouth and set it on the side of the plate.

'They taste good,' Celebros said. Gwalas nodded, his mouth full of peppered ham.

There was scattered conversation over the rest of the meal, mostly remarks about the food. The servant came in and removed their plates when they were done, and Celebros and Gwalas discussed strategy until Cundariel came in.

'Morning, Cundariel,' Celebros said.

'It's almost afternoon,' Cundariel said.

'Oh,' Celebros smiled, 'I'm supposed to meet Prince Lorgan for a tour or something at noon.'

'You'd better hurry then. It's about ten minutes until then.'

'All right...' Celebros hurried out of the room.

The room was quiet, and the paper he had left on the table by the window had blown onto the floor from a breeze blowing through the open window. Celebros sighed and picked the paper up, not looking at it as he set it back on the table. Then he glanced back at it, for he didn't remember the symbol at the bottom. He knew he hadn't written it there.

It was in a curling hand, much hastier than his own account covering the rest of the page. Like an S-rune, only more stretched horizontally, and with a slash through the center either way and odd curves at the top, like rays from the sun were generally drawn. He stared at it a moment, then heard the creak of the door behind him and turned. It was Lorgan, looking in at him and smiling. 'Ready?' he asked. Then his grin faded into a mystified expression. 'Something wrong?'

'It's just...nothing. I had an account I was writing, and when I came in just now there was a symbol at the bottom that I've never seen. I know I didn't write it.'

Lorgan's eyes narrowed. 'No one should have been here, unless it was one of the servants, and they're not supposed to alter anything, just clean or change sheets or close the windows if it's cold. Can I see it? I don't know what runes you know; it might be some form of Old Elven, or...'

Celebros handed him the paper. Lorgan's jaw almost dropped, and he blinked, then traced the lines with his finger. As if his worst fear had been confirmed, he closed his eyes and let out his breath slowly.

'What is it?' Celebros asked.

'This is the symbol we found when -' His voice wavered a moment, and he steadied it and continued. '- when my sister was taken. It's Eldurhir's mark.'

'How was she taken?'

Lorgan sighed heavily. 'I still can't believe it,' he said quietly, then began slowly. As he talked, he motioned Celebros out of the room. 'Bring it,' he said, indicating the scroll. 'About a year ago, in the dead of the night at about half after one, six men dressed as minor nobles came into the palace by way of the kitchen slops enterance. Not all of them came in, some of them were lookouts. One man drugged Aeargil and carried her out the same way. Another guarded them. They met up with the others at a respectable tavern two blocks away, where they had a carriage. One stayed behind in the tavern to make sure no suspicion was aroused.

'They drove to an isolated section of the outer wall. Two of them waited with the carriage and my sister and set up a grappling hook on the wall. One of the two went over immediately and secured their postion. One waited still. Two men went each way.

'Our guards go about in groups of two at the bottom of the inner part of the wall. When they met the filthy kidnappers, they saw only two nobles complaining of a robbery. The guards turned their backs and were slaughtered like cows at butcher-time. When the first pair of men returned after ridding themselves of our guards, one waited at the bottom, one at the top, and the third lashed Aeargil to him and carried her over. The second pair went over the wall and took the ropes with them.

'The man who waited was a local. He returned the carriage to its original position, met up with the man who had stayed at the inn to tell him all had gone well, and fled the city before dawn and ruckus came. They had five horses two miles outside.

'We caught the man who stayed at the inn. He gave us this information and killed himself in the cell we locked him in. The important thing is, the symbol he wore was the one on the paper, and the one we found etched over Aeargil's empty bed the next morning. Thus we know that that is Eldurhir's symbol. Or Galadon, whatever you want to call him.'

They reached the oak doors of the King's audience room. Quickly Lorgan pushed the doors open and strode in. Tarmamethnan was talking to an important-looking nobleman. He looked up sharply at the interruption. 'Excuse me, lord Tahir,' he muttered to the man, who nodded briskly and walked out of the room. 'Lorgan? What is the meaning of this? Lord Tahir is an important noble, and I have need to speak with him.' Now the King's voice was sharp.

'This,' Lorgan said, motioning Celebros forward.

'This, Your Majesty,' Celebros told him, shaking the paper open. Tarmamethnan's eyes widened at the sign scrawled boldly on the parchment. Lorgan nodded and explained more to his father.

'When Celebros entered his room this morning, he found this written on his paper. Nothing he wrote, of course. We have another worry, father. One of them is here. He must be a servant, to have gotten into a guest's chambers unnoticed -'

'Or another guest,' Celebros said, his eyes narrowed in thought. Lorgan gave a start at this.

'No,' he whispered. 'Not -'

'Tahir,' the King breathed. 'He is from the North, after all. And he seems to work for someone -'

'It could be pure coincidence.' Lorgan's voice was unsteady.

The King shook his head. 'No, now that I consider it - how blind of me! He has been here when - bad things have happened. I shall have him detained. Elos!'

The doorwarden's head appeared in the doorway. 'Yes, Your Highness?'

'Please take care that Tahir is caught and detained immediately.'

'Tahir, Your Highness?!'

'Yes, Elos, immediately! Hurry!'

'Yes, Your Highness! Immediately!' The man hastily shut the door and the sound of quick footsteps echoed away down the hall.

'Action must be taken. Lorgan, round up your brothers and Tarrilas and Silmarien. Celebros, if you would fetch your friends and bring them here -'

'Of course, Your Majesty,' Celebros said, hurrying out himself. Lorgan took another door into the quarters of the royal family.

With sharp and sudden certainty, Celebros felt a surge of fear and a quick, fluttering feeling of dread. He turned...there was nothing and no one. A misty blanket of uncertainty fell over him, blocking out the sun. He moved automatically, paying no attention to where he was going. They knew nothing of the power Galadon must have gained, nothing of where and how many his minions were. They didn't know what he was capable of or what he was after.

The door of the dining hall was open partially, and the servant who had served them breakfast was cleaning up.

'They went to Gwalas' rooms, I believe. Talking something about strategy...sounded quite confusing if you ask me...do you know what they were talking about, young master? Something about a fortress and an elf- lord, and Lady Cundariel's brother, I believe.'

'I'm not quite sure,' Celebros lied. 'Thank you, though.'

Bowing and rushing on about how it was his pleasure, the man watched Celebros hurry out of the room.

The hallways were nearly empty, and the boy could not help but think of the time that Tahir had had to strike. He must have seen the parchment. He must have known that they would discover him. Would he escape? Would he take action?

Gwalas' rooms were empty...he knocked on Cundariel's door and there was no answer...there was a noise from inside, soft but definite. Glancing around the hallway and seeing no one, Celebros pushed open the door. It remained open, as did his mouth at what he saw.

Standing no more than two feet in front of him was Tahir, his mouth curved into a hard-edged, satisfied smile. In the corner of the room was Cundariel, lying on her back on the floor, unconcious. There was no sign of Gwalas in this room; perhaps he was in the other...

Celebros' breath was faster than it had been, but Tahir's was normal and calm. An edge of fear snuck into the man's eyes, and Celebros saw it. Purposely he slowed his breathing to normal and slid his hand to his sword hilt at his side. The sliver of fear made Tahir's mouth twitch, and the bite of arrogance shown in his jutted jaw vanished.

'You,' Tahir said, his voice rough with disbelief and frusteration.

'Why?' Celebros grated as coldly as he could manage, trying to make the tremor in his voice sound as if it was from anger instead of terror. Like a cold blade was sliding across his throat, he constrained his breath as much as he could and clenched his teeth.

'Because there is no other way to meet my ends.'

'Galadon's ends, you mean.' His fury was becoming more sincere.

'Galadon's ends, then. My master's goals are mine also. Together with his forces my master will destroy the race of men and the fools who call themselves Elves, and we will rule. I shall be a lord of more than you can imagine! I will be honored beyond anything you have ever conceived.'

Celebros' eyes fell on Cundariel. The hall was still empty, and the only sounds were the breaths that Celebros and Tahir were taking. If Cundariel was still alive, he could not hear her breathing. 'What have you done to her?' he asked, forcing his voice to be calm and composed, as if he didn't care.

Tahir's smile faded slightly, but the fragment of fear did not, although he masked it well. 'Do you really want to know?'

Furious, Celebros didn't answer. 'You have to know you'll be caught. They are coming for you now, and they will find you.'

'Not if I can help it!' The nervousness was blanketed by determination, and Celebros felt himself gasp as something hit the back of his head. Blinking hot scarlet out of his eyes, he felt a second blow. And then - nothing.

+++++

'Gone?' Anger and shock reigned in Tarmamethnan's face. 'Both of them?'

'We found the Lady Cundariel unconcious, Your Majesty. She was confused, like. And Gwalas as well. They don't remember.' Elos sounded quite bewildered.

'But no sign of Celebros?'

'None, sir.'

A sharp hiss of frustration issued from the king's mouth, and he sat down on the throne, biting his lip. 'They must be found! The King Elessar will be most displeased of this turn of events. I will have to send him a raven, of course... Arrange a search. They must be found immediately!'

'A search has already been organized, Your Majesty.'

'Good...were there any clues? As to the time, and such...?'

'No, Your Majesty, there were none. Except... Gwalas was bleeding from the head, Your Majesty, and the blood had not spread enough for it to have been more than thirty minutes since they were knocked unconcious.'

'I expect that he went directly there, knowing we would suspect him of...and then Celebros found him, and he overpowered the boy...but where could he have taken him, without being found?'

Elos' eyes narrowed. 'Your Majesty, if I may speak?'

'Certainly, Elos.'

'My liege, if he were to take the servants' passage, and to go to the dungeons...'

'To the dungeons...organize a search there immediately.'

'And my liege, something else...'

'Yes?'

'What if he took the boy out of the city?'

The King's face grew very sober. 'Then we all might as well give up hope.'

+++++

Gwalas' head ached dully, the edges of his vision not quite clearly defined. Blood on his cheek had dried, but the slash on the back of his head throbbed with a constant fire. He glanced at the second watchman beside him, nodding wordlessly to the left passage and heading himself to the right.

The stone walls were rough and badly shaped; obviously not done by skilled smiths and made in haste, and the iron bars clamped over the cell doorways were not in good condition. One of them was rusted all the way through in the center. There were untidy runes in some of the cell walls, and a bloodstain on the floor in one.

The dungeons were empty; they had been cleared out years before, and had never been even near to full. Some of the bars were swung back, and hairs pricked on Gwalas' scalp, for he thought he heard faint whispers from some musty, empty cells. Many prisoners had died here, most by their own hands.

There was nothing down his passage, and nothing down the other's. They passed another group in the hall; three guardsmen, but they shook their heads. No luck.

Gwalas closed his eyes breifly. The other man stopped and waited for him a moment, looking slightly worried. 'Are you all right?' he whispered.

'I'm fine...' It was a lie, and the man probably knew that, but he nodded. They came to another intersection and split up. Gwalas' torch nearly snuffed out, for the air was stale, but there was nothing. Touching the wound on the back of his head gently, he turned and headed back. The faint whispering pursued him, and he shuddered despite himself. Surely just a shadow of his imagination, nothing more. Still, gooseflesh was creeping down his arms.

They searched their last assigned path, and came back to report to the king. His eyes were solomn, and as he spoke to them he tied a scroll onto a messagebird's foot and threw him out of an opened window. The sun cast shadows across the room; it was three o' clock at least.

'Has there been any word at all, Your Highness?' Gwalas asked desperately.

'None,' Tarmamethnan said heavily, watching the bird's flight until it vanished. 'None at all, my friend. The area we are searching is vast, and I have everyone from my sons to kitchen servants searching the city top to bottom. I do not know what to think. The guards do not remember him passing.'

'He could have had help. He could be hiding in one of the civilians' homes.'

'Even they will be searched if we do not find him before.' The King sighed, his eyes closed, and it revealed suddenly how old he was. A shadow of memory passed across his face, and he turned fully away from the window and sat down on the throne. 'You may go,' he said quietly, his eyes like emeralds and his light brown hair untidy. The nobility was gone from his face in an instant, and he slumped in his chair. 'You...may go...'

Gwalas and the guard turned quickly and hurried out of the room. The halls were almost empty, but Gwalas knew that when they neared his room there would be men looking for hints and clues that were not there...Tahir had been too careful. The guard split off into a different direction, to search more. It made Gwalas feel guilty; Celebros was his friend, but others were more eager, more determined to find him. He was little more than a boy.

He avoided his rooms.

Cundariel was in the garden. She glanced up as he approached, then resumed her previous position, her head in her hands. He sat down on the bench next to her, looking at the trees. Taunting them, the sun shone bright in the cloudless sky.

'Do you remember - what happened?' she asked, her voice muffled.

'Nothing. At all. There was no sound, no movement that I remember detecting.'

'I thought I heard something fall.'

'Me, maybe. It doesn't matter.'

'What if I had reacted, turned around? What if I had seen him and -'

'You didn't, and you can't change that. It's done with. It's not like we were expecting it.'

'It's not done with,' Cundariel whispered. 'Not yet...'

+++++

Tahir glanced back at the boy. Celebros was facedown on the cold stone, sprawled there like a dead animal. Blood blossomed on his face, not touching his hair but dripping onto the floor.

The boy stirred and began to come back to his senses, groaning. His hand twitched, and his eyes snapped open in alarm. He stared at Tahir a moment, then scrambled to his feet. Instinctively his hand moved to his belt, where his sword should be but wasn't.

'Looking for this?' Tahir asked airly, lifting the sword belt from the floor. Celebros' eyes darted around the room; it was clearly unused and below ground level, dank, musty, dingy, dark but for a torch of rotting wood. There were chairs and a table with two broken legs propped against the wall and shards of pottery littering the floor. 'It looks nice. Do you use it often?'

'Get your filthy hands off of it,' Celebros snarled, not looking at the man. Instead he glanced at the high ceiling. A rope from the corner reached up to a trapdoor. There was no other way out. Gingerly he touched his forehead where it bled, and glanced at Tahir. Far from setting the blade down, he drew it partway out of the scabbard. 'Fine workmanship. Your grandfather gave it to you, I expect...?'

'My uncle,' Celebros said through gritted teeth. The thought of Eldarion, of home, was more painful than the cut on his forehead. Shallow. It would heal quickly; it would not scar.

'And now before I return to my master to report you out of the way there are a few things I must do. You may be able to help me.'

'I won't.'

'Is that so?' Tahir sounded unconcerned. Not cocky, precisely. His dark green eyes glittered like emeralds, and he stared at the ceiling, at the trapdoor, just as Celebros had. 'First I have to dispose of those friends of yours. Then I have to cover my tracks. They are searching for you, of course, but this place hasn't been used in over a century. It's hidden. They may never find you, but if they do it will be too late. I'll be gone, and you'll have been dead or senseless for some time, as will your friends.'

Surprisingly, Celebros' first thought was not fear of dying. It was disappointment. Failure...panic was not a thought. He knew he should be frightened. He knew he should be terrified. He was afraid for Gwalas and Cundariel, but...

'Really?' he said.

Tahir smirked. 'Do you doubt it?'

Celebros shrugged. Tahir's face in the light of the flickering torch closed suddenly, and he shook his curly straw-colored hair out of his face. For a fleeting second they were equals, and then Tahir's authority, as he saw it, took over.

'Well, it doesn't matter what you believe. I have a job to do. Come here, now.'

Celebros ignored him, pretending he had not heard or not caring. One of his legs shook a bit; he knew he was not strong enough to run, to climb, and Tahir had his sword belt. He had sheathed it again, and now he threw it to the ground. 'Come here,' he said icily, kicking the belt. It slid against the wall and stopped. Celebros glanced up again, breifly, then looked calmly at Tahir.

'Come here. Now!'

'Why?'

'Because I can inflict a great deal of damage on those friends of yours before I kill them. I can make them die screaming and no one will catch me. Or I can do it silently, so that they never know what hit them. It is your choice.'

Celebros' cool mask slipped and he abandoned it. For an instant, painful indecision...then realization...he strode forward and stood before Tahir stiffly, his teeth clenched. He did not meet the man's hard stare.

'I've found your weak spot...stupid of you, boy. I can toy with you as a cat does a mouse, now. If I didn't like doing it so much, I wouldn't even have to torture you for information.' His unpleasant smile taunted Celebros. 'I threaten your friends, you do what I tell you to do. Do you think I would rather extract information from you, or them? They are Elves... they are strong-minded far beyond us...they would never tell me what I want.' Celebros had slowly looked up with these words. Now he looking for an instant at Tahir's face, but could not meet the stare. He dropped his gaze again.

'Yes. You can see my will. You know I am stronger than you. Will you give me the information willingly, or will I have to use my own ways?'

Tahir cupped a hand roughly under Celebros' chin and forced him to meet his eyes. 'I will die before I give information to your master,' Celebros said, his voice cold bared steel. Tahir made as if to take a step back. But he stopped himself in time. 'And you will as well.'

Tahir looked at him, hiding surprise. 'Did you know this place is soundproof? Airtight, too. My master's reach is spreading, boy. He will destroy your home, he will kill your family. He will rule, because he is more powerful than you, or I, or any that live.'

'Do you recognize the name Sauron?' Celebros asked suddenly. Tahir's eyes narrowed. 'Your master was nothing compared to Sauron, and Sauron feared what my grandfather has become. Do you honestly think that Galadon is stronger than Sauron? Do you think he is fearless? You are wrong.'

'Is that so?' But he was thinking about what Celebros had said. His hand clamped suddenly on the boy's throat, and Celebros gasped, or tried to. His mouth worked, his eyes unfocused...Tahir let go and Celebros dropped to the floor. Tahir dragged a chair over and pushed the boy into it. He cut off several feet of the rope from the trapdoor, enough so that it could not be reached. He tied Celebros to the chair.

'There,' Tahir laughed softly, 'now you can find out how long a human lasts without food or water. Now you can find out how long it takes before you go mad and die.'

Celebros did not hear him, nor did he see Tahir pull the other chair underneath the rope and climb up, hooking the chair with his foot so that it, too, disappeared through the trapdoor.

+++++

'No leads yet? Nothing suspicious?'

'No, Your Majesty.'

'Very well. Continue the search...'

'Your Majesty, if I may speak...?'

'Certainly, Elos.'

'Sir, it has been more than a day. Surely he is gone by now. There have been no sightings, and he could not have gotten food unless he had it stored somewhere. Everything is under watch.'

'Elos, it is not finding Tahir I am worried about any longer. It is finding the boy. I recieved a message back from King Elessar this morning, and he can do nothing, but begged us continue the search. If Tahir is not gone he will target Cundariel and Gwalas next. There are orc-raids in the south now. Evil is stirring everywhere.'

'Indeed, Your Majesty.'

'How are the other two?'

'They haven't slept, Your Majesty, nor eaten. They've been searching along with the rest, but without break.'

'Yes...if you find anything suspicious, anything at all, report it immediately.'

'Yes, Your Majesty, of course. Good day.'

+++++

It had taken a long time for Celebros to puzzle out the solution, or part solution, to the situation. He wondered instantly when he figured it out whether Tahir had done it on purpose, as a test, of sorts.

He was by this time ravenously hungry and thirsty, and there was still the problem with the trapdoor. He didn't know how Tahir had gotten out, but the other chair was missing and the rope drawn up.

He tipped the chair backward and broke one of the legs, then using the sharp edge to cut his ropes, but collapsed to the floor when he tried to stand. He guessed it had been about a day since Tahir had taken him; he had been completely unable to sleep with the ropes digging cruelly into his wrists, but he must have fallen asleep on the floor there, for when he opened his eyes again the torch was nearly out; only a spark remained. He sat up slowly, blinded suddenly as color tinted his vision. After it had passed, he repeatedly threw the broken chair leg at the trapdoor, but it was too thick for it to be heard above. He tried to throw the entire chair, but it was too heavy and he too tired and weak. His throat burned; he needed water.

He wondered how long he would last down here. Alone in the chamber, Celebros watched the torch go out. Now it was dark, and he could not see the trapdoor. He wondered if Tahir had told the truth. Was the room airtight?

If it was, then he was dead.

+++++

'Your Majesty!' Elos' voice was breathless and excited. 'Your Majesty, we've found something suspicious, in the lower level, where the floor is of wood. I think you should see this.'

+++++

The searchers parted for Tarmamethnan. 'Here, Your Majesty,' Elos said, pointing. The King's eyes widened. There was no change in the floor, but at one point light footprints appeared from nowhere. Elos looked up; there was no loft, and the marks did not look as if they were from someone who had jumped.

'And it sounds hollow. We've heard nothing from in there, my lord,' one of the searchers added.

'It could be a trap.' Gwalas apppeared at the back of the crowd, Cundariel right behind him.

'Surely he'd be more careful than this,' Gwalas continued, 'unless he meant us to find it. Or - if he was in a hurry?'

'What kind of trap are you thinking of, Gwalas?' Elos asked curiously.

'I'm not sure.'

'Well, it doesn't look like we have much of a choice. The boy could be injured, and he's been without food and water,' the King said grimly. 'We have to open it. If there is any chance Celebros is in there, alive or - not... we have to open it.'

Gwalas came forward and ran his fingers over the floor. 'Here,' he muttered. 'All right. It's heavy.' He gripped in the cracks and pulled up.

It was a trapdoor, sure enough, and the inside was dark. They couldn't see the floor with the dim light that was coming through. 'Does anyone have a torch?' Gwalas asked. A minute passed, and he was given one. He shone it into the hole, and silence spread over the searchers and the King. Cundariel drew in her breath.

On the floor, against the wall, was a still form. Right under the trapdoor it was slumped. It was Celebros.

It was a long drop down, but Gwalas jumped it, landing crouched with a wince. 'Are you all right?' Elos called.

'I landed on my ankle badly, but it'll be fine.' He limped over to Celebros and stood frozen a moment. 'He's alive,' the elf pronounced at last, and there was a collective sigh. 'He's unconcious; the air is bad in here. Looks like he was tied to the chair; there's a frayed rope on it. He must have cut it with this.' He indicated the broken chair leg near Celebros' foot. 'Can someone lower a rope?'

Gwalas knelt by the boy and shook his shoulder gently. 'Celebros,' he whispered, 'Celebros...' His eyes opened slowly, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but fell almost immediately back into unconciousness.

+++++

The King surveyed the boy over the tips of his fingers. 'Do you have any idea where Tahir went?'

Celebros shook his head. 'He said he was going to kill Cundariel and Gwalas,' he said slightly unsteadily, 'and report back to his master, so I assume he would go immediately to Mount Gundabad, but as he didn't kill either of them, I'm not sure whether he was telling the truth in regard to that either.'

'Yes, of course. How do you feel?'

'Much better, thank you, Your Majesty.'

'That is good. Tell me, are you and the others still going to go on?'

Celebros looked surprised. 'Of course,' he said quickly. 'Nothing has changed.'

'You have seen what could happen; what they are capable of. He was easy on you. I expect he will be punished, likely killed, when Galadon discovers you are alive. And as for your friends, they were under guard to prevent him from taking any more action than he already had.'

'It doesn't matter. We still have to go on. We don't have much of a choice. The task must not fail. He knows we are after his information and trying to free prisoners now. We will not get another chance.'

'You are right. When will you go?'

'As soon as possible; we have delayed too much already.'

'You weren't well.'

'Begging your pardon, sir, but I'm not sure we should have come here at all.'

'Understood, although now you know more. You know about my daughter.'

'We didn't know we would learn anything. It was a gamble, and I've paid the price.'

'I know,' the King sighed, 'and I know it may be for nothing even now...she may be dead. But there didn't seem to be a reason for taking her.'

'Maybe she was bait. But you weren't fool enough to pass that by.'

'Or I was fool enough not to send anyone to even scout out the area. Elbereth take that...that...'

'You know very well,' Celebros said softly, 'that anyone sent to scout out the area would never come back. You have done all you could, and no more could be asked of you.'

'You're right, of course,' Tarmamethnan said after a while, 'but I wish I had been more careful in the first place. I wish -' He had made a fist, but stared at it for a moment and lowered it. 'No. How soon will you leave?'

'Tonight, I suppose,' Celebros sighed. 'We have to hurry on. But I wish myself I knew something more about what they were planning. I should have stalled Tahir longer, found out more.'

'Don't berate yourself. You can't hold yourself accountable for any of this mess. Tonight? Again, you're right. I'm afraid that since we prefer to stay in the city, little of our food aside from army rations is nonperishable. But Elbereth save me, we'll do what we can. I doubt I'll be seeing you in person again, Celebros son of Caladin. I can offer no refuge once you have freed the prisoners. I'm also afraid that we will not be capable to heal anyone who is injured...these are difficult times indeed, when friends cannot help friends.' He laughed bitterly. 'I'm sorry I cannot do more. If you do find my daughter, she may need treatment more than what we can offer here. She may not even be safe here...could she go to your City, if she wanted to?' Celebros nodded. 'Good. Tell your grandfather that we are with him, if ever he needs help.'

'Thank you very much, sir.'

Celebros turned to exit the chamber. The king sighed, and as the boy reached the door, whispered, 'Good luck.'

If Celebros heard him, he showed no sign.

+++++

They traveled away from Minas Methhith for days. There was no sign of human life for miles outside the border. The night they passed the last border was dead and quiet but for the rare sounds of animals. It appeared to be scarcer of life the nearer they got to Mount Gundabad.

It rained one morning, and after it stopped they tried in vain to detect the sound of a bird or a squirrel, or even the buzz of a bee. There was no sound. There were no animals, no insects, nothing. Not even crows or ravens flew overhead. They were alone.

Gwalas, Cundariel, and Celebros stopped late that night. Their food supply was running low, so Cundariel went out to find some food.

Celebros sat miserably on the hard ground, waiting for her to come back. He was tired, and cold, and hungry, and it would be a while until he was warm, active, and filled. He sat to wait, but Gwalas stood, pacing impatiently.

He turned suddenly to Celebros. 'Have you ever had a feeling something was going to happen, and you don't know what?' Without waiting for an answer, he ploughed on. 'I have had a fear lurking in my heart, in my mind, for a time now, but I don't know what it is! It is angering, Celebros, angering! Something is going to happen.' His voice sank, and as it did, he did, he sat slowly down. 'Something is happening. Right now.'

'What could be happening now?'

Immediately Celebros saw the ignorance fo his question. He leapt to his feet, but Gwalas shook his head and motioned him to sit again.

'I don't know for sure, boy. I sense it, I feel it, I hear it, Elbereth, I even smell it! But I cannot say I am sure, and I would not want you running yourself into the ground, into the woods, on an unsure. I have never been - I was never as good as the other Galadil at sensing danger, or the presence of a tr- of a man.' He almost flushed; almost. He was still uncomfortably aware that he was not fully adjusted to not using Galadil terms.

They waited for a while. Celebros' eyes became heavy, and he tried to force them open. Even Gwalas' head was nodding. It would be nice, he decided, just to rest a while. Just rest...

+++++

'Celebros!'

The voice came from nowhere, and everywhere. It was faint and distant, it filled his head.

'Celebros!'

He opened his eyes. Gwalas was standing over him, his face twisted with urgency, with fear and worry. 'She's not back yet,' Gwalas said. 'We have to follow her prints. Hurry!'

Celebros, yawning, pushed himself immediately to his feet. His stomach growled angrily, and blackness dotted his vision for a moment.

He hurried off into the trees after Gwalas. The Elf was not far ahead. His fiery hair was unkempt, and for once he seemed not to care.

'Her prints are light,' Gwalas muttered as he approached, not looking up. 'I might not be able to follow them. Do not to spoil them! I may have to backtrack.'

'All right,' Celebros said.

In silence they went on for some time. But before they had been going half an hour, they came across a sign. Gwalas looked intently at the spot, and the various footprints of the people who had been there.

'If I read this right,' he said quietly, 'then there were three people in this clearing. Cundariel, and two others; one Elf and one Man. They were waiting, or guarding; their prints are deep, so they stood in one place for a long time. Unless they jumped down from the tree. Cundariel saw them, and backed away. Then the footprints are mingled, but a fight broke out. I cannot say for sure, but I believe that she was hit and knocked out. Yes, anyway, they overcame her.' It amazed Cele-bros how steady his voice was. 'They overcame her, and either she was knocked out or she knocked one of them. Or - yes. Well, there are two set of footprints leading away, and they are carrying soemone. One way or the other, she has been taken.' He glanced up at last.

'These prints are no more than nine hours old, I think. That means they have a great start on us. We must hasten back. We have an advantage. We have horses. But then we may miss the prints. However, they could not have traveled all night. They could perhaps have traveled two hours on foot last night, but they may have obtained horses then and traveled the rest of the night then. Let us hurry! We must follow as we can.'

It was quicker work to reach the site of their camp again, and there they had a devastating discovery: there were footprints in the site, and the horses were gone.

The bags were untouched, left precisely as Celebros had left them. Gwalas came into the site and looked around, then his shoulders slumped and he closed his hazel eyes. He remained that way for a time, then opened them and looked around.

'The footprints of two men,' he said softly. 'They are wearing heavy boots. They head out directly into the woods; doubtless meeting up with a path soon. The trees are too thick. We must run. Hurry!'

He hoisted his pack, hurried around the clearing picking up the assorted items lying about, cast some dirt over the place where their small fire had been, and moved away into the trees, motioning for Celebros to follow.

It was not long before they came to a place where, as Gwalas had predicted, they intersected a path. And here the men had been met by three others, one of them struggling and limping badly...the pieces were coming together. Gwalas bent to the ground a moment to examine the tracks, then stood.

'They rode the horses from here,' he said. 'I am afraid we have no hope of catching up to them before they reach Mount Gundabad.'

Celebros' heart sank. 'Do they want us to follow? They had time enough to mask their tracks.'

'Do we have a choice?' It was a growl, and Celebros stepped back. 'Do we really have a choice? It was where we were going in the first place. Do we turn around and leave her?'

'No!' Celebros said fiercely. 'No! We have to keep going!'

'I know, boy. Let's hurry. Let's go.'

'Wait! What do we do when we get there? Walk in and try to free the prisoners without anyone noticing? We have to get some uniforms, so at least we can hide for a while.'

'How?'

'Well, we have to sneak in unnoticed somehow. We need to get the uniforms of some outer sentries, and...they cannot come back to the fortress.'

'Your logic is impeccable,' Gwalas said, with perhaps a hint of sarcasm. 'All right. Where do we find these sentries?'

'I would guess that we entered his land yesterday morning, or fully entered it. How far apart did you post sentries as a Galadil?'

'Two miles. Almost. They would pace, back and forth, covering the border. It was hard to predict how to get between them. But we don't want to, do we? We just want to find them.'

'They'll find us.' Celebros' voice was confident.

+++++

'Hey! Over there! Hey there, who are you?'

'Who cares who they are? Get them!'

The first sentry started to obey, faltering slightly at the confident look on Celebros' face, and the grimace on Gwalas'. The second didn't hesitate, and Gwalas leapt at him, pulling his only knife out and hitting the blade out of the Elven sentry's, who obviously didn't really know how to deal with them.

The second backed away, but too slowly. Celebros was onto him like a fox on a hare, and before long the unsuspecting sentries were unconcious with broken blades. Their attire, as planned, was untouched.

Gwalas growled in disgust and pulled on one of the blue robes over his other clothing. Celebros did the same. 'Now what do we do with them?' the boy asked. 'I guess my logic was flawed. The other sentries will find them, whether we leave them or kill them. I had thought of bringing them and putting them in cells of their own, but I don't know procedure for bringing prisoners in, we might have to face Galadon, and Elbereth knows what could happen then. And if we do kill them,' his stomach twisted, 'we don't have time to hide the bodies.'

'We'll have to leave them.' Gwalas' voice was rough and grim. 'Not kill them, I think. They'll look like prisoners if anyone finds them. There must not be a standard for garb except wearing these,' he pulled irratably at the robe, 'look, they're wearing completely different things.'

'All right,' Celebros said slowly. 'Come on. Let's go.'

+++++

The two Eldurhir'rim in front of them nodded their heads to the gate-guards to the fortress. 'Is the watch complete?' a guard asked.

'We're not guards,' the Eldurhir'rim in front of the other growled. 'We're here to report an incident.'

'Aye?' the guard asked. 'Report away, then.'

'There are two spies headed this way. The one that was taken most recently - His Lordship's cousin - they want her. We're just supposed to report that to all the gates. Do you understand? Anyone coming around out of uniform is to be taken to Deep and questioned.' Celebros hid a smile.

'Aye,' the gate-guard replied. 'Message understood. Orders will be carried out.'

The two Eldurhir'rim hurried away. Gwalas stepped forward. 'Is the watch complete?' the other guard asked in a hoarse rasp.

'We've found the two spies. They're in the woods, out cold.'

'Coordinates?'

'Uncertain. They gave us quite a chase.'

'Aye. Which way?'

Gwalas pointed.

'Good. We'll send out a team. You go tell the twos to get to his Lordship with that news, hear?'

'Aye, sir.'

They hurried down the corridor. From the gates one man shouted, 'Ones, we have a situation. Into the woods, that way!'

'All right,' Celebros muttered. 'Should we tell the Twos, or skip it?'

'Tell them...Unless he has a Seeing Stone, he has no idea what we look like.'

A door next to them opened, and four men emerged and walked to the gate. Celebros heard the first one say, 'One Team reporting, sir. Permission to exit?'

Gwalas opened the door. 'Are the twos in here?' he asked briskly. Four men stood quickly and bowed. 'Of course, sir. Are you new?'

'No questions,' the second man said. 'Do we have a situation, sir?'

'Aye - tell His Lordship they're going to get the spies now from the forest. They were knocked unconcious. Hurry, now.'

The four men bowed and hurried down another hallway and out of sight.

Celebros turned to Gwalas. 'Now what?'

+++++

The fortress was enormous. They talked to people, servants, and were told the following:

The fortress took up most of the inside of the mountain and some underground beneath the forest. There were twelve entrances; one main, four lesser, seven hidden or secret. The inside was riddled with hidden passages, too; most of them were very well-known and Celebros and Gwalas, in their five days there, got extremely annoyed. Whenever they asked for direc-tions, it was 'Through the portrait of Eldenbar the Fifth, up the stairway concealed behind the false broom closet next to the kitchen, down that hallway, left twice. Then turn the left hand on the suit of armor near the armory to the right like a doorknob, and it'll swing out. The fifteenth hall of cells is to the right from there. Can't miss it.'

Then, on the fifth day, they overheard a conversation. They had found out where Cundariel was being kept.

+++++

They hurried silently down the hallway. Finally, they reached the door of the first cell on the right. Gwalas opened the door gently.

The figure on the opposite side of the tiny room rose its head slowly. Cloaked in a hooded black robe, the face was completely covored. It was not Cundariel, that much was certain.

A hoarse voice broke the sudden silence.

'Who are you?'

It sounded pained, as if it was a great effort to speak. The voice was certainly male. Half-uncertainly Gwalas stepped forward.

'I am Gwalas Windleaf,' he said quietly. 'We come to rescue those who we can from of Galadon. Are you strong enough to join us? Should we return when we have found the others?'

The figure drew back his hood. He was beyond any doubt part elf, but part Man as well. He had light brown hair that reached his shoulders and dim grey eyes. Scars crossed his face.

'I am Rilhir,' the man said at last. 'I was once the Lord of Flame, second commander of the Eldurhir'rim. But I was ashamed of the things I did. I tried to usurp Galadon to bring right to the land, and he overcame me. I have renounced the ways of the Eldurhir'rim now, and I will come with you.' It was immediately obvious to Celebros that Rilhir had been a man of strict protocal at some point in time. He also could see that the man was trustworthy. Something told him he liked Rilhir's way of things.

He stood slowly, and they saw that he had a sash woven of fine blue silk. He touched it.

'It was the symbol of my pride. Galadon has made it the symbol of my defeat. It is to be a mark of shame. He knows anyone who sees it knows that I once was powerful. It shows that he can defeat the great.'

He walked forward steadily, with a slight limp in his left leg.

'Is the one you search new here?'

'She was captured five days ago.'

Rilhir nodded with a grim smile. 'I have been a captive three years. There is one here who has been here thirty. He does not speak any longer. He stopped speaking after seventeen years. He was a strong one.'

Gwalas gave Celebros a small nod. They helped Rilhir slightly until they reached the next door. Rilhir paused. 'Wait,' he said slowly.

He put his ear to the door. 'We cannot enter this one,' he whispered.

Gwalas looked as if he was about to protest, but Rilhir looked at him sharply. 'Unless, of course, you want to bring the entire Guard onto us and stand in Deep for seven days of constant torture.'

Gwalas nodded with a sigh. They continued on to the next door. Gwalas hesitated, then opened the room.

Another hooded figure was in there, curled into a ball in the corner. A few strands of long blond hair strayed out of the robe. It was Cundariel. She looked up dimly, and as she saw who it was tried to get to her feet, pulling the hood off, but stumbled. Whether or not she had been in here only five days, she seemed in worse condition than Rilhir. Celebros groaned, and Gwalas hurried forward to help her.

'You came,' she whispered, struggling to pull off her hood. Her robe was tied with a simple white band. 'I hoped... He said you wouldn't.'

She finally suceeded in getting the hood off. Celebros gasped, and Rilhir hissed softly. Gwalas muttered a curse, surprising Celebros.

Her face was marked with several weals and a nasty cut that crossed her lower jaw and split her lip. Her eyes were pained but hopeful. 'This is Rilhir,' Gwalas said quietly.

Rilhir bowed his head. 'They told me you have been here five days,' he sais suddenly to Cundariel. 'What have you done, you three? How could he hate you this much?'

'I am his cousin. I defied him, and denied him inform-ation. For this, he said, he would...' she trailed off, apparently not wanting to remember, but she looked at Celebros.

'We're fine,' he assured her. 'But you?'

'I cannot run, yet,' she said with a shadow of a shadow of a smile. 'Have you found him?' Rilhir glanced, puzzled, at Gwalas and Celebros.

'Her brother Tasarian,' Gwalas said to Rilhir. 'No,' he told Cundariel.

Rilhir's eyes widened at Gwalas' words. 'I know where we can find him,' he said quietly. 'Is he your brother? I'm sorry.' He strode off a bit quicker than he had before, looking at the doors ponderingly. After a moment he turned back to them.

'Are we searching for anyone else in particular? Most of the prisoners, you see, are too afraid to attempt escape, or too injured, or too senseless to move,' he said at length.

Gwalas nodded. 'The King of Methnan said his daughter Aeargil had been taken.' He tore his eyes from Cundariel and looked around.

'This one,' Rilhir said with certainty. 'I saw her, once - after I was imprisoned, of course.'

Gwalas put his ear to the door and nodded.

Rilhir added, 'Tasarian's room is much farther and deeper. Remember how long he has been here. His is locked. We will have to find a way to break that one. He tried to escape, many times.'

Gwalas swung open the door. It creaked a bit. Within was a slim and beautiful young woman, also half elven half Man, her hood drawn back already. She looked tired, but her face was not marred by scars as the others' were. It seemed that Galadon had nothing against her. She had straight golden hair that reached to her shoulders and sad blue-green eyes, like the sea after a storm.

Her eyes widened as she saw them. 'The prisoners -' she gasped. 'Are you -? Can you -?'

'We are taking you away from here,' Gwalas said gently. 'Are you Aeargil of Methnan?'

'I am,' she said, standing. 'I see you know of me. Have you been to Methnan? Are my people well? My father and brothers?'

'They are,' Celebros said. 'We've got to hurry.'

She nodded, and strode slowly towards them.

'Do you know where they keep Tasarian?' Rilhir asked.

'I know the section,' she said slowly. 'We will have to go into the mountain-tunnels, if you wish to free him. He is deep. He - Galadon said he does not speak any longer.'

Cundariel set her lips in determination.

They followed Aeargil and Rilhir as quickly as possible. Celebros tried to remember the turns: right, right, straight, right, but he lost track. It seemed they were going gradually downward, and after a while they came to a place where the walls were of a different kind of stone. They had truly entered the mountain.

After nearly fifteen minutes of hurried walking in the damp stone corridor, they began to pass doors. Some were open, and empty, others were closed and locked. From one, they heard a clicking, and a shrill screech that made Celebros shudder and the elves looked disgusted and sick. Cundariel and Rilhir flinched, as if they could relate. It made Celebros feel sick himself to imagine what was going on.

Suddenly Rilhir stopped by a door. There was a large keyhole. The door apparently opened inward. No sound came from it. Gwalas bent to the keyhole and examined it.

After a silence, he straightened. 'It is a simple keyhole,' he said. 'Almost any key would open it. I doubt Galadon expected visitors. Does anyone have a key, or anything like one? A file? Something thin, and small enough to fit? It would not even have to be precisely the same size; anything smaller will do.'

Celebros fumbled in his pack. As he did so, he looked up quickly; the others were looking at him. 'Will a small knife do?' he asked.

'It might,' Gwalas said. Celebros took his miniscule blade out and held it up. Cundariel took it and fit it into the lock. She twisted it around. There was a loud click. Cundariel absently handed the knife back to Celebros. He stowed it into his bag. After pausing, as if afraid what she might find, she slowly opened the door.

On a stone bench in the center of the small dark room lay a sleeping elf. He was wearing a ragged grey cloak, not a white garment such as the others were wearing. He did not wake. His hair was shoulder-length, and light blond. There were a few streaks of brown in it, too.

Cundariel hurried to him. Celebros was surprised to see tears in her eyes. She knelt at his side and took his hand, shaking him softly as if afraid he might break.

He stirred slightly, then opened his eyes. They were gray, and dull, but wide as he looked at his sister. She smiled, her tears still in her eyes. He did not speak, or even try to, but sat up, ever so slowly, clutching his left arm, his eyes locked to hers. He released his own arm and reached out, an almost wistful look in his eyes, as if he did not believe she was real and not just a dream or a fantasy, and placed it on hers. He was shaking, whether from years of torment, or fear, or pain, or happiness, or hope. He gasped as he touched her arm, but no sound came from his mouth save a little intake of breath. He looked at her face; reached up and slowly traced the gash on it.

'Five days,' she whispered. 'It's nothing worse than the orc-raid gave me. I'm fine.'

He shook his head. She looked at his arm that he had clutched, then softly drew back the sleeve. He did not wince. There was a rustle of fabric, and then a silence. On his arm was a fresh gash, nearly five inches long, that could not have been made more than six hours old. Cundariel narrowed her eyes. He put a hand under her chin, pushed her head up so she was looking him in the eyes again, shook his head, and pushed his sleeve back down again. For the first time, he looked up at the others, who stood in the doorway, and smiled. He rose, once again very slowly, and stepped over to them. Cundariel followed him uncertainly. He looked back at her, and she reached out her robed arm. The sleeve fell back to reveal several more welts. Ignoring that, she put a hand on his shoulder. He touched her hand, and smiled again, turning back to the others.

At last Cundariel broke the long silence. 'Tasarian,' she whispered, 'this is Gwalas, and Aeargil of Methnan, and Celebros of Minas Tirith, and Rilhir.'

Tasarian looked at Rilhir. His eyes narrowed.

Rilhir spoke suddenly, a tremor in his voice. He whispered, 'I defied him, three years ago. He imprisoned me. I was foolish, because I could have found a way to free people first. I hated him, and I ever will, for what he told me to do, and what I did in fear, and what he did to us all. I'm sorry. I'm... sorry.'

Rilhir was looking imploringly at Tasarian. The elf, who was leaning on Cundariel for support now, looked at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. It seemed that Rilhir relaxed, and so did the others.

'We must hurry,' Gwalas put in urgently. 'They will notice, they will find us. Quickly now!'

They began along, but before they had been going a minute, those who had been prisoners were already lagging. Most of the injuries Aeargil had taken were on her legs, for trying to escape, and she was stumbling badly, tired. Tasarian was using the rough stone wall as support, for Cundariel was helping lead the way. They began to take a different route, and came out of the mountain part of the tunnels.

They stumbled down the dimly lighted corridor, Cundariel leading the way, Gwalas helping Rilhir, who was gasping for breath and staggering, Celebros helping Tasarian, who merely stumbled silently along, breathing fast but not hard. Aeargil staggered along behind, refusing help. Cundariel tripped suddenly and fell to her knees.

'Cundariel!' Gwalas whispered urgently. She looked up at him, twitching in pain, and pushed herself to her feet. They traveled on for several minutes, the silence broken only by panting and groans. They came to a T in the hall and took the left way. Ahead was a doorless entryway to a vast chamber. Light flooded out of it. Cundariel stopped suddenly in front of it. Gasping, the others came up behind her.

In the middle was a platform, and on it was a huge stone beset with many jewels.

'The Mirdon,' Rilhir breathed, awed.

'Wait here,' Cundariel whispered in a strangled voice. 'No! Cundariel, no!' Celebros said loudly. She looked at him, hesitating, and then at Tasarian, who made no move, indeed no sign to indicate life, then tore her gaze away and stepped into the room.

As soon as her foot touched the floor, a shrill noise echoed along the corridors. Cundariel backed hastily away. 'An alarm,' moaned Gwalas. They ran on.

Celebros took the lead, and Cundariel helped Tasarian. They reached a four- way and took a left. Again, this time he lead them straight. Again, and left. Right. Right. Straight. Then he stopped suddenly, and the others passed him, came to a halt behind him and turned. He stepped in front. 'No!' Cundariel yelled.

Galadon, clad in light blue, stood calmly before them. 'Too late,' he said calmly, and his voice was rich and echoed off the walls. 'Too long you have defied me. Now you shall at last know defeat. Come now,' he said turning to Celebros with an unconcerned smile, 'do you defy me still? Must I fight a child? You, little one, are the fittest of these? Very well,' and he laughed, making them flinch, 'if I must, I must.' He snapped his fingers, and the alarm died.

Slowly, he drew his sword. Celebros followed suit. They fought.

Thrust, swing, block; the others lost count of how long it went on. They stood rooted with horror. Celebros swung his sword at Galadon's sword side, and he flung out his blade feebly, but turned, and the blades struck. They stood seemingly still for a time, their swords pressed against each others, Galadon looking unperturbed, Celebros panting, but Galadon's blade was inching toward Celebros' hand. A look of fear, but also of hatred and determination, was clear on the young Man's face. There was a moment of silence save their loud breathing, and then the swords moved so fast that the others could not tell what happened. 'Run,' Celebros begged the others through his set teeth. 'Go!' The swords danced, but the onlookers could tell who was the better; Galadon was gradually backing the boy up.

It happened in a flash: as Celebros stood rigid, waiting for a move, Galadon swung his blade over the boy's head and sparks seemed to fly. Then Celebros flew backwards through the air, and slid on the ground, his eyes shut, blood seeping from the back of his head where he had hit it nastily on the rough part of the stony wall. Just out of his reach lay his sword, broken. Galadon approached him very slowly. He stood beside the boy a moment, gazing almost earnestly at him. A half-look of triumph and almost surprise came into his eyes and vanished quickly. Then with an ugly snarl he raised his sword.

At that moment, Rilhir sprang forward at the Elf. Galadon's eyes widened, and he swung up his sword. Rilhir blocked it with a quick thrust. Galadon's sword clattered to the ground. He looked up at Rilhir; surprise, anger, astonishment, and fear in his eyes and face. Rilhir brought the blade down on Galadon's shoulder. He gave a cry, but had already made his move: he had planted a small knife in Rilhir's stomach. The jeweled hilt sparkled innocently. Galadon turned and ran. Aeargil gasped.

Celebros crawled over to Rilhir, who was on his knees, shuddering, gasping, his mouth open in shock and pain. 'No,' Celebros whispered, blood dripping down the back of his shirt from the back of his head. 'Rilhir! Rilhir!'

The others, who had rushed forward as best they could, helped ease Rilhir down. 'Rilhir! Hold on!' Gwalas cried urgently. 'Celebros! Do you still have kingsfoil?'

'No.' It was a simple word, but pain welled up as the boy forced the word out. Both the boy and Rilhir took a shuddering breath.

Rilhir moaned, his eyes shut. He whispered something, opening his eyes and fixing an agonized gaze on Celebros.

Celebros let out a low moaning sound. 'All right,' he whispered. He touched the hilt, and a shudder ran through Rilhir's body. Then he fell still. Gwalas cried out, and Cundariel whispered, 'Is he...'

'No,' Celebros said grimly. 'Not yet, at least. Gwalas, I need cloth.'

They saw that the blade had not penetrated as deep as they had thought. Gwalas held the cloth ready, and taking a breath Celebros drew out the blade, throwing it away. It clattered against the wall and to the floor. Gwalas quickly bound it, and picked up the still figure. They quickly continued on. They turned right, and there was Malannon, the Gold Gate. The guards were gone, gone to help with the alarm...Cundariel flung it open and they hurried into the open. In unison, Cundariel and Aeargil gasped, then Aeargil laughed in sheer delight to be outside again, the twilight and the trees.

'We must steal horses, strong ones. Five or six, I think. Tasarian and Rilhir will need to ride with someone,' Gwalas said. 'And maybe Celebros... Celebros, are you all right?' The boy was swaying. Gwalas caught him in strong arms as the boy sank to the ground, and he set him down against a treetrunk. 'We are in no condition to travel anywhere yet,' he said. Cundariel hastened into the woods, leaving Tasarian using a tree as support and gazing in awe at the stars. Gwalas realized suddenly that the elf had not been outside in almost thirty years.

Cundariel returned ten minutes later from the stables, followed by six large horses and carrying a few packs, to find Gwalas bending over Celebros, Aeargil anxiously hovering by his shoulder. The older elf looked up as she approached. 'Good. Can you find some kingsfoil? I am the only one here who does not need it. Rilhir will die if he does not get some in the next few hours, and Celebros might. The rest of you have been imprisoned, and tortured. The boy - he's in a bad way. I think that the Elf's blade was tainted with a quick-working poison, and that he got cut with it somewhere.'

Cundariel nodded and disappeared into the trees.

+++++

It was half an hour before Cundariel returned. She had ten leaves of athelas, wrapped in a cloth. Celebros' eyes were open, but he was staring at nothing, unfocused, almost with a glazed look. Aeargil was examining him worridly. Cundariel glanced at the boy, handing the leaves absently to Gwalas, and Aeargil looked up and said quietly, 'He is feverish. It is good that you brought extra, for he and Rilhir will need it.'

Gwalas had started a fire and heated water. He crushed two leaves and steeped them in the hot water. 'I need you to unwrap the wound,' Gwalas breathed softly. 'It will bleed badly, but I will wash it and then we must bind it quickly.'

This they did. However, when Gwalas began to bathe it, tremors ran though Rilhir's body. They quickly finished and wrapped it, and he stilled.

Next they went to Celebros. Gwalas lay a hand on his forehead. The boy's head shot up, and Gwalas withdrew his hand with a hiss. 'He's burning up,' he muttered anxiously. Soaking a cloth in the water, he sponged the boy's forehead and arms. Also, they washed and bound the cut on the back of his head. It was several inches long and deep. Celebros loosened up, going limp. 'He ought to be all right, but it will be some time. But if the blade was poisoned, he is as good as dead. Let us tend your brother.' Gwalas' voice was torn with dread.

They went to Tasarian then. He was asleep against a tree. Scars and weals crisscrossed his face and arms. He awoke as they neared.

They washed his arm gently, and he worked his mouth, but no sound came out. Gwalas gave him a cup of water, and he fell asleep again.

Aeargil was in better condition than the rest save Gwalas, for she had been treated less harshly. She had not been taken for punishment, but in sheer spite and evil. There was a burn on one hand, but it was old, and a few scars on her calves. One ran across her cheek. Other than that, she seemed fine.

Gwalas helped Cundariel bathe her injuries with more of the water. On either arm was a burn - a mockery of a brand, he realized with a shock - and the area around it was red and swollen. There was also a small cut on the back of her neck. Her forearms and lower legs were covered in slashes and whip-marks, too. She flinched as he touched each one.

They decided to move farther from the gate lest they be found. They put out the fire and hid all traces that they could. Tasarian could hold onto the horse, if he could do nothing else. They helped him onto one, and Aeargil rode with Celebros and Rilhir with Gwalas. Cundariel rode in silence, looking worridly at Celebros, who was limp in front of Aeargil and pale. They rode for nearly an hour, then stopped and made camp. Gwalas did not sleep that night. He stayed awake to guard and watch the injured members of the company.

+++++

In the morning, Cundariel awoke to find the bright sunlight streaming through the trees. Gwalas was the only other one awake yet; he was standing by the horses, silent. He turned as Cundariel stood.

'Rilhir is not doing well,' he said sadly. 'He has a very high fever, about the level Celebros' is at. The kingsfoil has not had much effect on either of them. Tasarian appears better, though. See, his face is less pale. Do you want to wake him?'

She looked at her brother, and indeed he did look better than he had the night before. She walked slowly over to him and shook his shoulder gently. He opened his eyes and smiled. His mouth opened, but still no words issued. He shook his head sadly, but stood up and touched his face, which was covered in scars. The smile faded slightly, and became a bit sadder, as if he was thinking of things that would have been better forgotten.

He realized she was watching him, and touched his slashed hand to her face. He clasped her hand in his, searching her eyes for understanding, and she nodded.

Aeargil woke up a few minutes later, and Gwalas told her about the others' situation. She nodded wearily, then went to check Celebros' condition. She felt his forehead, and looked at the gash on the back of his head, then examined his arm. Looking at it, her eyes widened, and she caressed his hand, then dropped it and walked hastily over to Gwalas and spoke quietly to him. Cundariel heard what she said.

'There's a cut on his upper arm, and on his hand. That foul Elf's blade made it, or I'm a blind fool. The one on his upper arm - it looks bad. I think the blade was poisoned.'

Gwalas hurried over to examine it. Cundariel turned away. It was looking worse and worse for the boy. After a moment, she turned toward Tasarian. Her younger brother was looking with immense sadness at Celebros. He shut his eyes and shook his head, his light blonde hair with its few brown streaks untidy, hanging loosely over his shoulder. He opened his eyes as she lay a hand on his shoulder, and they seemed like endless grey pools, dim and shadowy. He opened his mouth, and to her surprise and joy, this time words came out. They were slow and halting, but she knew that voice.

'Who is the Man? The little one - the young boy -'

'His name is Celebros,' she answered with a sad smile. 'He is the grandson of the King of the Reunited Kingdom. King Elessar.'

Tasarion's eyes widened, then grew sad. 'He is hurt. Because you waited for me.'

'We wouldn't have left you. It is not your fault that he did.'

He nodded, but she knew he was doubtful. Gwalas had turned to look at him in surprise that he was speaking.

'Are you hurt?' he asked her.

After a pause, she said, 'Yes. It is not bad. It has been tended.'

There was a silence. Then he whispered, 'I should have tried to escape. But after a while, a couple years, I never defied him. Never. I was obedient, even when he...' His voice faded; his face was contorted in pain.

'No,' she whispered. 'Don't do that to yourself.'

'The boy...' Tasarian said after a moment. 'Is he going to die?'

She tried not to look at Celebros and failed. Her eyes still on him, she whispered, 'We don't know.'

'I'm sorry,' Tasarian said quietly. 'I know you care for him. He is your friend. He is...braver than I am...and he was trained well in the sword forms.'

Gwalas asked her if she could examine Rilhir. She put a cool hand to his forehead, and found that he had been quite right; Rilhir was quite as hot as Celebros. The knife had obviously not been poisoned badly, or Rilhir would already be dead, but it had been a wicked blade. Tasarian watched her; Gwalas had warned him to be careful, and he was still shaky enough not to trust himself. Cundariel removed the wrap, and saw that the bleeding was almost stopped. Seeing the wound, her brother let out his breath in a low, sharp hiss. He clenched his teeth, his eyes narrowed. Cundariel tried to ignore it, but couldn't help think of what Galadon had done to her, and what he had likely done to her brother.

She examined the area around his wound. It was reddened and swollen, but no more than could be expected. She reported this to Gwalas. He looked uncertainly around, then asked her a question.

'I am going to leave the judgement up to you, Cundariel. Should we continue on today, or should we stay? My heart tells me go on, yet it could be either ruin or salvation. I don't know!' The last was a cry, a proclamation of dismay. He threw up his hands. 'I don't know,' he whispered, looking torn.

Cundariel gazed around. 'I think we should stay here until noontime, and then go on,' she said finally.

Gwalas agreed halfheartedly. They sat in silence for much of the late morning. Finally, at about eleven, Celebros woke. He was fevered still, but not delirious. He looked up, but did not speak. Gwalas felt his forehead, and both of them winced. Celebros looked quickly, questioningly, at Rilhir.

'He isn't doing well,' Gwalas said softly. 'He has a high fever. Although you are not doing very well either. How is your head?'

Celebros feebly put up his hand and touched the back of his head. He winced, and then shuddered. 'Not good, I see,' Gwalas said sympathetically. 'There is little more I can do, for you or for him. We are going to be traveling soon. I must be truthful; it will not be good for either of you, and will put you both at risk to your lives. There is naught to do about it, though. If we stay we may be found, and he will certainly kill you both.'

Celebros nodded, looking troubled and sad. There was something in his gaze that Cundariel could see and recognize. It was the same way Tasarian had looked at her as he told her it was his fault.

Suddenly, Celebros' eyes widened. Gwalas looked around, to see what it was that had startled him. Cundariel saw it at once.

'Where's Aeargil?' she asked quietly. Gwalas started and looked around. Then with a groan he shut his eyes.

Still they sat, for several minutes, and then a small noise behind them made Cundariel spin around. It was Aeargil, and in her hand she held several leaves of athelas. Gwalas let out a sigh of relief.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'I thought...'

Gwalas nodded heavily. He looked over at Tasarian, who was resting silently against a tree; not asleep, just resting. Celebros sighed softly and was asleep once more. Rilhir had not stirred. His only movement was the slow rising and falling of his chest.

One of the horses stamped impatiently. 'We ought to go,' Gwalas said, breaking the sudden stillness that had come across the site. 'Aeargil, you help me get Celebros onto one. Tasarian!' The Elf's eyes opened and he stood. 'Can you ride?'

'Yes.' It was a bit slurred, but definite.

'Cundariel, help me get Rilhir onto this one. You ride the bay. Tasarian, you use the chestnut. Do we have everything?' They continued on through light and shadow, over grass and stone, until the shadows overwhelmed all else.

+++++

They would have traveled farther yet, even, but they were forced to stop. Celebros was awake, but his fever was worsening, and he was no longer completely lucid. He would be aware, groaning and asking Aeargil questions, and then he would be muttering incoherently, about the King, and Eldarion, and things they could not hear and did not understand. Rilhir was not doing better, but it was unclear whether he was doing worse. They stopped in a small clearing with two trees in the center. Then, as they set Rilhir down again, he awoke with a low moan.

'Wha -' he groaned softly. His eyes opened; they appeared dim, and almost filmed over. He moved his mouth soundlessly, then forced out painfully, 'Celebros.' He would listen to no one else until he was told that the boy was all right. Then he said, 'What - happened?' His words were forced, his breath was shaky. Gwalas told him, but Cundariel noticed he was very careful not to say anything about Celebros' condition; Rilhir was so apparently worried about the boy that the truth would distress him. Celebros was dozing against a tree, and as soon as Gwalas had explained things to Rilhir, he left the others to talk to him and went to tend Celebros.

The boy was no better. He had to get athelas. They started a fire and heated water, steeped athelas in it, and reapplied it to both Celebros, who was still asleep, and Rilhir, who was slumped silently against a tree. It was unclear whether he could see Celebros or not, but he obviously sensed the tense atmosphere. He called to Cundariel and said one word, 'Celebros.' She hesitated, looking at Gwalas, who had suddenly stopped swabbing Celebros' forehead and was looking at them. Aeargil stood up from where she had been watching Celebros and walked over to Rilhir.

'When he was thrown against the wall, he got a nasty gash on his head,' she said. 'He also got a few cuts on his arm from the blade, which was poisoned. He's fevered. He's sleeping now.'

Rilhir's bluegreen eyes met Aeargil's blue ones, and he slowly closed them. They sat still, waiting, until they realized he was asleep again. Cundariel turned her head swiftly to look at Gwalas. His head was bowed, and his long red hair hid his eyes. 'You should get some sleep,' he muttered.

'So should you,' Aeargil began, a trifle angry, but the Elf raised a hand and stopped her, shaking his head. 'I will watch,' he said softly.

Aeargil stood rigid for a moment, her mouth open, then she closed it and lay down, pulling her brown cloak over her. They slept.

+++++

Cundariel was wakened by a chirping in the trees. It was morning. Gwalas was looking gravely at her, silent. 'Aeargil is already awake,' he said. 'She went to get some water. There is a stream nearby.'

'How are they?'

In every line of Gwalas' face was etched grave anxiety. 'Rilhir is no better. His fever may have lowered slightly, I suppose, and the wound is healing more, but I still am not sure if he will live. As for the boy...'

He looked over at Celebros, and suddenly drew in an unsteady breath. Cundariel got to her feet. 'What?' she whispered. Gwalas looked up. 'He is not doing well. Despite the kingsfoil, his wounds are infecting, and it has not lessened the poison that had already entered his system. There is nothing more I can do. Nothing!' He looked up, his face anguished. 'If he dies... Nothing! I can do nothing but watch, and hope.'

'Then that's what we'll do. If there is nothing else to be done, then we can do no more. Is it safe to wake them?'

'Celebros...perhaps. I do not think it would be wise to awake Rilhir. We should leave soon, though.'

Cundariel shook Celebros' shoulder gently. His eyes slowly opened. They focused on her face. He slowly raised his hand and tried to grip her shoulder. His hand twitched, and fell back. The expression in his eyes was confused. He mouthed something, her name, perhaps. His light grey eyes closed, then opened again, and then he gave a start. His eyes rolled up into his head, and his hand started to twitch weakly, palm up. His other arm lay still. He gave a weak groan, his eyes unfocused.

'Gwalas!' Cundariel whispered. Gwalas glanced at them, then hurried over.

'It's the poison,' he whispered somberly. 'There's nothing I can do. He's going to die. Unless we can find some way to extract it, or dilute it...he'll die.'

The boy gave another moan, and shifted. Slowly his eyes closed. His hand was clenched into a loose fist.

'We must go on,' Aeargil said. 'It could be our ruin, but we are achieving nothing staying here.' 'Yes,' Gwalas said softly, still looking at Celebros. 'Yes, we must.'

They traveled much more slowly that day. Rilhir awoke at last, and then they stopped.

'We're safe,' he whispered. 'Out of Rildor.'

'Rildor?' Gwalas looked puzzled. 'The Land of Flame?'

'It's his name for his realm,' Rildor told them unsteadily. 'I -' He suddenly stopped. He closed his eyes breifly, then fixed them on Celebros.

'Is he doing all right?' he whispered, his voice weaker.

There was a silence. Then -

'No,' Aeargil said quietly.

A pained look came across Rilhir's face. 'The poison?' he whispered.

'I think it's durthond,' Gwalas said slowly.

Rilhir's eyes widened, then he tried to smile. 'Goldroot - in the packs. Have you tried any?'

'Goldroot? I haven't seen it yet, but I can try it,' Gwalas said.

Rilhir nodded, and his eyes closed. Gwalas rummaged through his sack and brought out a small bag filled with a pale yellow powder. 'I wish I'd known about this before,' Gwalas said, hurrying over to Celebros. 'There is none in this area; I wonder where it came from.'

Celebros opened his eyes. He did not speak, but winced, flinching as Gwalas lay a hand on his shoulder. He was given goldroot, and choked it down. While he did this, Gwalas went to check in the other packs. He glanced worridly at the small supply of goldroot.

Gwalas slept that night. When Aeargil woke, Tasarian alone was awake; he was muttering in Sindarin softly. He looked up as she rose. 'How is he?' she asked, gesturing to the still form of Celebros beside him.

'Better,' the elf said. 'The goldroot, it worked. His fever's gone, or close to it.'

They awoke Gwalas to examine Rilhir. The red-haired elf's eyes open abruptly, and he scrambled to his feet. 'Celebros?' he whispered anxiously.

'Better,' Tasarian said.

Gwalas knelt by Rilhir, his expressions mixed. He felt Rilhir's forehead, and the dulling eyes sprang open and swiveled instantly to Celebros. 'The goldroot worked,' Aeargil said quietly. For a moment Rilhir's eyes still were fixed on Celebros. Then he looked at Gwalas. Gwalas gazed intently, his hazel eyes burning, and Rilhir's closed wearily.

'We best not move today. Rilhir may look and seem better, but if anything, his fever is worse. Perhaps the knife was tainted with a slower poison. My hope fades.'

Celebros awoke that afternoon to find Gwalas rewrapping the gash on his head. His mind was clearer, although at the moment he wished it was not. He felt, for some reason, weaker, more vulnerable. He stirred, and Gwalas smiled.

'Goldroot,' the elf said quietly. 'You will be weak for many days yet, but the fever is broken.'

It took a moment for Celebros' mind to form the right words. 'How is Rilhir?'

Gwalas gave him a sharp look. 'Not good,' he said briskly. Then, 'Stay still, boy.' When his head was bound again, Gwalas patted him on the shoulder with a quick smile. 'There. Take some rest. We're going nowhere today.'

+++++

Tasarian spoke in an undertone to Aeargil most of that afternoon. Cundariel sat next to Rilhir, sharpening her knives and making arrows. Gwalas had gone to find food, for they were running low. Celebros tried to sleep, but could not. The others kept glancing at him, so he closed his eyes and feigned sleep.

Gwalas returned early that evening. Celebros then opened his eyes and sat up. They ate in silence.

Celebros tried to stay awake that night, for a lurking dread was growing in his mind, but could not. He was too weak yet, and too tired.

Around eleven, he awoke. The sense of forboding was hammering at him, and he moved nearer to Rilhir.

Rilhir's breath was coming in short gasps, hard and fast. His eyes fixed onto Celebros. He opened his mouth and strove to speak.

Rilhir finally spoke between shuddering breaths. 'I knew what I was doing.' His voice was shaky, and he was speaking each word between gasping. He stopped a moment, then looked at Celebros. The boy turned quickly. 'Gwalas!' he said, his voice wavering. Gwalas' eyes opened and he hurried over next to Rilhir. Their eyes locked, and a beam of understanding shot between them.

Rilhir shut his eyes a moment, then looked intently at Celebros. His voice began to slow, but his eyes begged the boy to understand. 'It is too late. I am free now, at last. I took a risk, and I knew what I was doing. I am sorry to leave, but I would be thousand times more sorry had I not done what I did.' He shuddered, then his eyes closed. Gwalas looked at the still figure for a long time. Then he turned to Celebros, who was sitting in silence beside Rilhir, his shoulders quivering, but his eyes dry.

'Sleep, boy,' he commanded. 'Sleep. We will travel tomorrow.'

+++++

Gwalas had already broken the news to the others when Celebros woke, and the boy was grateful at least for that. They buried Rilhir with no ceremony, no song, as was usual at a death. After a moment of silence, they turned away. Tasarian supported Celebros, who still could not walk well, not without staggering. Gwalas stared bleakly at the ground. None of the three had spoken since waking.

When they were back with the horses, Aeargil walked over and lay a hand on Celebros' shoulder. 'You remember what he did. He knew the risk he took, and he knew that he could stop it. Do you think he would have died in peace, years from now, if he knew that he had a chance to save his rescuer's life, and he had not? You remember what he told you, Celebros. You believe it.'

Celebros' sad eyes rose slowly to meet her face. They held each other's gaze for a moment, then Celebros slowly shook his head. 'How?' he whispered. Aeargil took her hand off his shoulder, her eyes pained. Gwalas walked over to them and looked at first one, then the other.

'Celebros, can you ride?' he said finally, breaking the heavy silence that had entered the clearing. 'I would not want to assume that you are fine, for it could be deadly.'

'I think I can,' Celebros answered. 'Are we going very fast?'

'I don't believe so. Aeargil, could you ride beside him, at least?'

'Yes,' she replied without hesitation. 'Very well. I hope to leave before eight; that is in one hour. We must clean up what we have left here; even if Rilhir was right and we are out of Galadon's land. I don't want to take any chances. He could have sent out spies. I have heard that he told Tasarian that he had sent spies to watch as far south as the Treegarth of Orthanc.'

They traveled faster that day, stopping at noontime for a meager and subdued lunch. They had found no sign of recent life since leaving Rildor.

'We're about fifty miles south of the Malannon,' Gwalas told them that night. 'I do not think we need fear pursuers any longer, but yet I am uneasy. With your consent, I will place two of you on each watch tonight. Cundariel? Aeargil? Will you take first watch?'

'Yes,' they said in unison, then looked at each other. Aeargil gave a small, innocent grin.

'Tasarian? You and I second?'

'Very well.'

'Then, I think, Cundariel and I, and then Aeargil and Tasarian.'

Celebros almost opened his mouth, but thought better of it. Gwalas, however, apparently saw the look on his face, for he glared at the boy. 'No, Celebros,' he growled quietly. Aeargil's grin widened.

Celebros slept through the night. He awoke only when Tasarian shook him awake at sunup; everyone else was awake or awaking. 'How do you feel?' Tasarian asked. 'Fine,' Celebros lied. Tasarian nodded and walked away.

In actuality, he was unsure why he had not woken up screaming. His head was pounding, and the arm that had been cut by the poisoned blade was throbbing. Had someone told him his head was split, he would have believed them. With a start and a grimace, he remembered that his head had been split open. He touched the wrappings gingerly and winced. Gwalas must have seen it, for he came over and set a hand on Celebros' shoulder, peering into his eyes. His gaze was piercing; searching. Celebros shifted uneasily and flinched again. Gwalas sighed wearily and looked away, but did not loosen his grip on his shoulder. Still not meeting his gaze, Gwalas spoke to him.

'How do you feel, boy?'

It was a challenge, Celebros realized suddenly and with amazement. Gwalas knew that he didn't want to admit that he was hurting, but even though he already knew that no, he was not okay, he wanted Celebros to admit it. He fidgeted a little, glancing at Gwalas.

'My head hurts, but I'm sound otherwise.' It was not wholly a lie, but not the truth either.

'Good,' Gwalas clapped his hand on the shoulder of Celebros' bad arm, hard. He fought back a wince. Gwalas met his gaze again. Then he strode away.

Celebros sat still for a moment yet. With only a half-forced smile, he got up and prepared to leave.

+++++

That day they traveled at a good pace: only slightly slower than they had the day before. They reached the end of the tree-covered area (thus they called it, for the trees were not thick enough to be a forest, save in a few spots), and soon were traveling through the hills and plateaus that were found east of the Misty Mountains.

That night, Celebros realized that he had no clear idea of where they were going. He did not ask anyone, but fell asleep weighing the possibilities on his mind.

He supposed they would probably stop in Methnan, and there Aeargil would stay. Then perhaps Cundariel and Tasarian would go to Eryn Lasgalen. Gwalas had promised Celebros he would accompany him to Minas Tirith, so he was assured one companion - if they were going to the City.

When he awoke the next morning, he could bear it no longer. He resolved to ask Gwalas.

No one else was awake yet. That was unusual. Normally he was the last one up. He pushed himself up and glanced around. The horses were tied together, and two were lying down. The others were stamping impatiently. Gwalas was lying against a tree, his cloak covoring him. Cundariel, Aeargil, and Tasarian were on the ground, each covored with a thin blanket. Aeargil had wrapped up her cloak and lay it under her head. Tasarian's head shifted, and he murmered something. Then he woke. His back was to Celebros, so he did not notice him. The elf pushed himself to his feet, still muttering under his breath. He stood still for a moment, then, as if sensing Celebros' presence, slowly turned. He nodded as he saw the boy. 'Good morning,' he said softly.

Celebros returned the greeting. Seeing the boy's look at the others, he smiled. 'They were up talking well into the night,' he said. 'Then they stayed up to watch. I think that Gwalas has not slept since...' His voice faded.

'Yes,' Celebros said quietly.

Suddenly, there was a crunch behind them. Cundariel was standing, slow and graceful.

'Hello,' she said, seeming to stifle a yawn.

'Good morning,' Celebros said.

'Is it?' she asked. 'I suppose it is,' she said at last, as if they had just concluded a long conversation. 'Good morning.'

'Are we going to Methnan?' Celebros asked, abruptly remembering his train of thought the night before.

Cundariel looked startled. 'I don't know,' she said. 'I haven't spoken to Aeargil much about that.'

'Much?'

'Much. I talked to her a bit. But not much.'

Gwalas suddenly stirred. His red hair shifted, and then his eyes opened. 'Good morning,' he said, not rising until he had said it. Celebros and Cundariel glanced at each other and laughed. Gwalas smiled.

'I'm not going to ask,' he said, all trace of amusement suddenly going from his face.

'What?' Celebros asked suddenly.

Gwalas tried to look puzzled. Celebros shook his head. 'You know what I'm talking about.'

'I did not dream well,' he said stiffly. 'We should wake Aeargil.'

They did so, and Cundariel asked Gwalas whether they were going to Methnan. Gwalas glanced at Aeargil, who had frozen when they mentioned the place. She looked up, undecided, then said, 'I think I would like to see the White City. There are few of the Methnan'rim who have. I may return afterwards. I do not know.'

'We should avoid the areas of the Galadil.' Gwalas looked thoughtful. 'I know the territories. They stay on the outskirts of the forest. No more than an hour's walk in or out, but all the way up and down on the west.'

'Yes,' Celebros said with a weak grin. 'I do not think we would like it if we ran into them. I do not think they would like it either.'

Aeargil and Tasarian looked confused, but said nothing.

'Very well, then it is settled. Unless...'

'Yes?' Celebros prompted.

'Tasarian. Would you like to go to the City?'

'I would indeed,' Tasarian said, smiling. 'It is decided. There is one question I have, however. How long will it take us to reach the City of Minas Tirith?'

Gwalas shot a quick look at Celebros.

'Oh - forty days? I'm not sure. It depends on our pace.' Tasarian tilted his head, but said nothing.

They went on more quickly that day, not stopping until nightfall.

+++++

Morning broke over the companions, and soon after then, Tasarian awoke. It still felt strange, and would for years to come. Freedom. The sun in the morning, and Cundariel...

He glanced at her, still sleeping, her golden hair untidy. The others were asleep too...Aeargil and Gwalas and -

And Celebros. But there was something wrong with the young Man. His back was to the rest of them, and there was no visible change that Tasarian could see, but he knew something was wrong.

'Gwalas,' he whispered. 'Gwalas...'

Gwalas stirred, and his eyes opened. He sat up. 'Is something wrong?'

'Celebros.'

Gwalas looked over at the boy as Tasarian continued to speak. 'I don't know what it is, I just feel something...I don't...' His voice faded and he shook his head. 'I don't know...'

'You're right,' Gwalas said. 'Elbereth take me! How could I be so ignorant?!'

'What is it?' Aeargil asked, waking up.

'Celebros' fever's back,' Gwalas said, defeat in his eyes. 'Not as bad, not even very severe, but it's relapsing.'

Tasarian woke Cundariel quietly. She blinked sleepily. 'His fever's back,' he muttered to her. She winced and nodded. 'Not as bad as before, but...'

Gwalas stared at the boy, his head bowed. 'We don't have enough goldroot to do a thing,' he admitted at last. 'It's the wrong season for it. I think we'll just have to do like we did before. It's a long way to the City, but we'll have to get there as quickly as possible.'

'What about Imladris?' Aeargil asked.

Gwalas shook his head. 'Elladan and Elrohir are good at healing, but they're often as not gone, and it's the King Elessar we need, if anything I've heard about him is true.'

'It probably is,' Cundariel said, 'and more.'

+++++

'How is he?'

'He's weak. But it's getting better slowly. He woke up this morning. He was lucid, for the first time in ten days now.'

'Why didn't the goldroot take the fever out entirely?' Aeargil's voice was bitter.

'It was poison-induced. It happens sometimes. He's smart, Galadon is. Most elves don't know the other properties of durthond; they either use it as a source of entertainment when they're low on wine, or they use it to drug prisoners. Sometimes along the mountains, on the recovery-raids, they use it so much that the prisoners become addicts. But if it's put into the bloodstream - well, we've all seen the effects.'

'What did he use on Rilhir?'

'A foul concoction of his own, most likely. I've never seen it before. It was very much like durthond. Slower working, harder to treat. Thus, more deadly. But it was very - interesting.' Gwalas spat the last word, making it obvious that it was only for lack of a better word.

'It seems like the kind of thing he would like. I only saw him three times - he visited me twice in my cell, and once he took our whole wing out when someone escaped and was caught in the forest. He wanted to make an example.'

'Elbereth. I can't imagine what it was like. He seemed... strange. Much more powerful than he was letting on.'

'I heard at home that he was an Istarii.' Aeargil laughed. 'I don't think so. Unless he had his powers weakened, or his staff confiscated. Someone was going on about how he was really Virma the Blue. But he's Cundariel's cousin, isn't he?' 'Apparently so.'

Gwalas was quiet for a minute, and they could hear Tasarian talking in quiet Sindarin. The smoke from the fire made the stars look like they were moving, shimmering, more like diamonds than ever.

+++++

'How close to the City are we?'

'We'll get there tomorrow. We're on the Fields now.'

'We could reach it tonight.' This was from Celebros. He was wan and tired and much more subdued, but the fever was gone. His cloak was swathed around him, and he was shivering. The firelight shadowed his face and brought out its sharpness, how much thinner it was, how pale. Out of the group, he sat closest to the flames.

'No, Celebros,' Aeargil said to him gently. 'It's dark, and we're all tired. And you aren't well yet.'

Celebros didn't protest.

'Who do we need to know in the City?' Gwalas asked. 'Who will we meet?'

Celebros smiled and launched into a description of the City, of Eldarion and Snaga and King Elessar. He was much more alive and enthusiastic than he had been the past few weeks.

After a long time, Celebros nodded off, and the rest of them followed soon after.

Epilogue

'Celebros!'

Eldarion's voice rang clear through the excitement of the City. He heard it and turned. Cundariel also spun around, and the others more slowly.

'Eldarion!'

They made their way towards the King's son slowly. Eldarion sobered at their appearences; ragged and scarred and thin, worn. He hugged his nephew and smiled, nodded to Cundariel... they moved off to a more private area to talk quickly.

Cundariel made introductions. Eldarion's eyes lingered for a long time on Aeargil, and she looked at him with undivided attention. Then he shook Gwalas' hand, and Tasarian's.

He spoke to all of them, but mostly directed his words to Celebros and Cundariel. 'My father is here, yes - there's a situation in the Outer City that he's checking on. There always is. He'll be back in an hour or so. Of course, by then he'll have heard you're back. Snaga's here too. He's in the Great Library. He seems to have developed a fondness for reading.'

'How's Mother?'

'Worried sick about you,' Eldarion grinned. 'Haven't seen much of your father, though - it's strange. I think he's been asking to have Outside guard recently.'

'Sounds like him, all right,' Celebros nodded. He smiled weakly. 'How about you?'

'Bored out of my mind, mostly,' Eldarion shook his head. 'Things get awfully dull around here without you and your bad luck.' He frowned. 'Would you like to go to your rooms? Cundariel, I think the one you had last time is still empty. The one to the left of that is empty - Tasarian, you can take that. The other two in that area - one of them doesn't have any windows. Very fancy otherwise though. The other is simpler, with a very nice view. Any preference?'

Aeargil looked at Gwalas. 'I'd prefer the one with windows,' Gwalas shrugged, 'but either one would be all right. I don't care.'

Aeargil nodded. 'I'll take the one without windows then,' she said. 'I don't mind. I've lived in a stone cell without windows for a year, and I don't think I'd be able to adjust with windows. Total darkness - much more calm.'

Gwalas shook his head. 'All right.'

+++++

Eldarion stared out the window. It was a cloudy and overcast morning, and Celebros was still asleep. No one had filled him in on what had happened, but the boy's practically skeletal appearance and subdued nature told him that whatever it was, it had hit Celebros hard.

He thought about the other companions. Tasarian seemed to be in good health considering he had been imprisoned thirty years; Eldarion's first instinct upon hearing that was that there was no way anyone could have survived that. Obviously, he had been wrong.

Cundariel had come as a surprise to him; something severe had happened to her judging by the white scars marring her face and hands. She didn't seem to be as close as Celebros, though, and it made him wonder if his nephew's pain was more than physical.

Gwalas. Eldarion smiled. Elven, bright red hair, hazel eyes - not exactly typical of an elf. He and Cundariel were the ones his father had asked quietly about what had happened, and it had been Gwalas who respectfully, but in a voice that demanded acceptance, asked if it could wait until the morning. He said there were things that were not for either of them to tell, and that Celebros would need time. He had obviously grown very close to the boy.

Then there was Aeargil. She was also a surprise. He didn't know where they had met her, or where she was from. She looked like she was part elven. Her hair was long and golden, her eyes bluegreen pools, and she seemed...cool and unruffled, as if nothing could upset her. She was very beautiful.

There was a knock on the door. Eldarion started and glanced over to it, then walked over and opened it.

+++++

Celebros woke slowly. It had been more than a month since he had slept in a bed, and he wasn't sure if he truly wanted to wake up.

When he finally did, it took him a moment to recognize where he was. He sighed and stood, dressing quickly and sitting down in his chair.

After about five minutes, there was a knock on his door. He sighed; he had rather hoped he'd be left alone for a while. 'Come in,' he called.

The door opened and the King entered, his eyes solemn. 'Good morning,' he said quietly.

Celebros turned his head away and shrugged. 'Yeah, I guess so.'

The King sighed and sat down on the end of the bed. 'Celebros, I don't know what happened,' he said after a moment. 'I don't know what happened to who. I don't know who Gwalas and Aeargil are. Gwalas just said that he was not the one to tell me. Cundariel said something about poison.'

'Yes,' Celebros said quietly. 'They were both right. I...I was the one who wasn't right.'

'About what?'

Celebros closed his eyes momentarily and turned to his grandfather. 'I don't even know anymore,' he said quietly. His eyes were haunted, painted, surreality dancing in them and threatening to leap out. 'I...all right. We headed north. We began to cut through the forest. Cundariel and I were resting when Elves came out from the trees. They...said that she could go, and one of them - Gwalas - said it was wrong, that they didn't want to anger Thranduil. I don't remember much after that. They drugged me. Cundariel followed, and that night Gwalas helped her to help me escape.'

He went on for a long time, until the moment before Galadon had stepped out. Then he couldn't continue, and took refuge in staring out the window.

+++++

They all sat a large round table when he came in; Gwalas, Cundariel, Tasarian, Aeargil, King Elessar, Eldarion, Snaga. King Elessar had already summarized what Celebros had told him, and was asking questions about what he had already heard. About the Galadil. About the Methnan'rim. About the bird spies.

Eldarion glanced at Celebros when he opened the door. Gwalas nodded acknowledgment. Aeargil smiled, and Cundariel and Tasarian followed suit. King Elessar didn't even turn around.

No one commented that he was an hour late.

He sat between Gwalas and Eldarion. The King Elessar continued.

'All right, we've heard up to the point where the alarm went off -' Cundariel bowed her head, ashamed. '- but nothing after that. What happened?'

Tasarian looked at Celebros, but the boy was stony faced. His voice soft and wavering, he began. 'Celebros stopped, and we did, too, behind him. Galadon was standing there. He - challenged us to a fight, and Celebros agreed.'

'You agreed to fight with him?' Eldarion asked, incredulous, his voice rising.

'Well, I didn't really have a choice,' Celebros said quietly. 'He was just standing there. I wasn't in a position to politely decline.'

'They were about matched for a while, but Galadon wasn't tiring. He's like that, always. He never gets tired, or has to stop for anything. He knocked Celebros back, against the wall, and Celebros' sword broke. Galadon - raised his sword - and Rilhir jumped in. They fought, and Rilhir got in a very solid blow to the shoulder, and then - Galadon -' He shook his head.

'What?' the King asked softly.

Gwalas continued the tale. 'Galadon stabbed him. In the stomach. With a dagger. Then he ran. We got out. Found some horses. Celebros was already unwell. Galadon's sword was tainted with durthond, and Galadon had cut Celebros' arm and hand. Rilhir was worse at first. We found some goldroot for Celebros. It didn't help Rilhir. He...we couldn't do anything. Celebros' fever was gone. Rilhir - it was three days later when he - Celebros' fever came back then. It receded after a while. There was nothing we could do about it.' Gwalas shuddered a bit, and his voice quieted. 'We were afraid he...' He shook his head.

The King nodded quickly. 'And nothing else happened on the way back?'

'Nothing,' Celebros said quietly. Then he looked unsure. 'Did it?'

'No,' Cundariel agreed.

Snaga spoke at last. 'So...is Galadon still a threat in the north? How badly was he hurt?'

'Badly,' Tasarian said. 'He cried out. He never, never cries out, but he did. It was a deep cut. It will pain him. I think...that after losing us, his supporters will lose some of their faith. They worship him like a god. He was supposed to be invincible. He could do more damage elsewhere.'

'And what about the Mirdon? What was it? What did it do?' Snaga asked.

'It was a tool for him, I believe,' Celebros said. Cundariel looked up at him. 'It was used to channel and control his power. It directed him, helped his precise accuracy.'

Gwalas looked a bit confused. Tasarian nodded. 'Exactly,' he said.

The King nodded and glanced at his grandson. 'Are you feeling better now, Celebros?'

'Yes.' Celebros' voice was hard and emotionless.

'All right. Aeargil, could I talk to you a moment?' The princess nodded, and smiled at Eldarion.

+++++

'Eldarion?' Celebros called, knocking on his uncle's door. There was no answer. He shrugged and turned away to see Eldarion, looking positively ecstatic, practically skipping up the hall.

'What is it?' Celebros asked suspiciously.

Eldarion grinned even more widely. 'Aeargil and I have just - erm - had a little talk.'

Celebros had a feeling he knew what was coming. Grinning, he said, 'Don't tell me -'

Eldarion nodded, trying not to bounce up and down. 'We're getting married.' ----------------------- [1] Armor worn on the forearms. They were most often made of leather, but occasionally one of metal was found. They were a very common type of armor, worn by Men, Dwarves, and Elves. Bowmen used these to protect their arms from the backlash of the bow. Swordsman used it to stop or slow their opponent's blade from sliding down their sword and injuring their hands and wrists. [2] Armor protecting the tops of the feet. [3] Armor that protects the thighs.