Chapter 5
Spiders, Wolves, and Orcs
As he slipped through the forest of Greenwood, Laiqua kept careful watch for the spiders whose webs increased in number the further one traveled from the Hall. He saw none for a long time, but at last he heard the unmistakable hissing and snapping in the branches above. He tilted back his head as he attempted to determine the number and kind of spiders concealed by the leaves. He momentarily stepped forward without looking at where he was going. "Umph," he snorted as he stepped into the edge of a giant web. Fortunately, he had only blundered into the edge of the trap, and he swiftly drew out his knife and began to slash himself free as the spiders scuttled downward toward the disturbed web. It was quite hard to disentangle his hair, however, and he began to frantically thrash his head back and forth as the spiders neared. He winced as a clump of his hair was yanked out by his efforts, but he was free and scrambled away as fast as he could, leaving behind several strands of golden hair in the slowly undulating web.
In the palace, Gilglîr approached the throne. The incident at the archery field had convinced him that it was imperative he confront the king over his treatment of the Prince. He understood Thranduil's grief over the death of his wife, but there were a number of reasons why the king must be made to accept his responsibilities as a father. The happiness of the kingdom was one reason, Laiqua's happiness was a second, and the happiness of Thranduil himself was a third.
"My Lord," said Gilglîr.
"Yes?" sighed Thranduil. Gilglîr was his friend as well as his Seneschal, and he had seen that look on Gilglîr's face before at several crucial points in his life.
"Thranduil, you have a son."
"I am quite aware of that fact."
"You do not act as if you were aware of that fact."
"Are you suggesting that I have mistreated my son?"
"Yes."
Thranduil was stunned. Gilglîr had never been this blunt.
"Gilglîr, he is well fed and clad as befits a prince. He has been tutored in Westron and Quenya, as well as in the history and geography of all the peoples of Middle Earth. He has been provided with the finest archery and riding masters in all of Elvendom. How then have I neglected my son?"
"You do not touch Laiqua, you do not look at him, and you address him only to point out his failings."
Thranduil flinched. It had been long since Gilglîr had presumed to utter Laiqua's name in the presence of the King.
"But, Gilglîr, I am irritated by his timidity. I cannot stand a cringing Elf, and I only wish to encourage him to behave boldly."
"And acting as if you despise him will so encourage him?"
"I do not act as if I despise him!"
"If you were to eavesdrop on the conversations of the servants, you would find that you have created that universal impression. Thranduil, do you hate your son?"
Thranduil hesitated. "No, I do not. But it true that I often find myself turning away from him because he reminds me of his mother. And his name—Gilglîr, you know that I cannot bear to hear his name. It reminds me—I cannot bear it."
"Have you ever thought of turning toward him because your son and his name remind you of his mother?"
Thranduil hesitated again. "No, I have not."
"I think if you did, if you gave Laiqua reason to believe that he is your son and not your burden, that he would cringe less and smile more."
"But, Gilglîr, I have never seen him smile."
"Exactly."
"Oh." Thranduil blushed with shame.
After a long moment, he spoke again. "Gilglîr, I believe I have not talked with my son in several days. Please see that he is sent to me. No, wait. Have him meet me at the archery grounds. Tell him to bring not only his bow but to fetch mine as well. I have never been the greatest of bowman, and I believe that a gifted archer such as my son may be able to assist me in improving my grip."
"As you wish, my Lord." Gilglîr bowed and backed out of the room, a respectful Seneschal once more.
Several hours later it was apparent that it had been days since anyone at all had seen Laiqua.
"How is this possible!?" stormed Thranduil. "How is this possible!?"
"My Lord," explained Gilglîr, "no one noticed that Laiqua has not been seen in days because that is the normal state of affairs. It is usual for him to be missing. You cannot blame the servants."
Thranduil knew that the Seneschal's words were just. If the King hadn't noticed the absence of his son, how could he expect anyone else to have done so?
"Gilglîr, please have all available scouts sent out to scour Greenwood in every direction."
"Yes, my Lord. I will join the search myself."
"Thank you, mellon-nîn. Thank you."
"My Lord."
Thranduil looked up at a scout who stood nervously before him.
"Have you something to report?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"You have found the prince?"
"No, my Lord, but we have discovered a trace of him."
"A trace of him?" Thranduil suddenly realized that the scout was clutching several strands of golden hair.
"Where," he asked grimly, "is the Elfling who should be attached to that hair?"
"My Lord, we discovered this hair in a spider's web. We have come upon no other sign of the prince."
Thranduil closed his eyes and slumped back in his chair. The scout stood in attendance for several minutes and then, without waiting to be dismissed, crept silently away.
Thranduil stood in Laiqua's room. Why he had come there he did not know. He could not expect to find his son in the chamber. Still, he wandered about the room, touching the tunic that was flung across the back of the chair, picking up and thumbing through books that lay in the wardrobe under Laiqua's leggings. After a time, he sat down upon the slightly rumpled bed. He smoothed his hand across the duvet and encountered a lump. Reaching into the bedding, he pulled out a shabby stuffed horse.
Thranduil had not allowed himself to cry when his father was slain during the battle of the Last Alliance. He had not even permitted himself to weep at the death of Laurëlassë. This time he sobbed without restraint, as if mourning for all of his lost kin.
Laiqua had not traveled far when he realized how widespread the evil influence of Dol Guldur had become. He was attempting to follow a path that would keep him within the westernmost fringe of Greenwood as he made for its southern tip. He planned to strike due west only when he reached the vicinity of the tower. But he had traveled only a short distance when he began to feel a growing dread and to sense that he was being watched. Most disconcertingly, he felt that the watchers were behind him. That meant that there was danger at his back, to the north, while he had already known that there would be danger to the south and east of him. Was he in peril of being ensnared by foes even with Dol Guldur still far distant? Safety might be found to the west, past the tree line, but he had not wanted to break out into the open just yet. Nevertheless, he felt compelled to do so.
Nervously, the Wood-Elf left his forest refuge and ran the risk of traveling across terrain that would afford him few hiding places. He had heard tell that a great bear roamed this woodless area between the edge of Greenwood and the Great River. It was still daylight, however, and the bear supposedly never came out until dusk. A Man was known to frequent this land during the daytime, and presumably the Man would not do so unless it were safe. A beekeeper the Man was reported to be, and Laiqua believed that some of the honey in Thranduil's larder came from his beehives.
Laiqua walked west until Greenwood just barely remained within his sight, then he turned south again. He walked on until he judged that it was an hour until sunset. "I'd best get back into the cover of the wood," he thought. He would feel safer spending the night in the embrace of a tree. He turned back toward the east. It was still light when he neared the forest. But abruptly he stood still. He felt that he was being watched again, and the eyes were surely directly ahead of him, hidden in the obscurity of the forest in which he wished to shelter. He peered into the shadows beneath the trees. Ai! Wolves! There was still a little time before the sun would set altogether. He wheeled around and hastened west, hoping to cover as much distance as possible before the wolves ventured out on the hunt. All too soon, however, he heard the howls of a pack in search of its dinner. He sprinted forward, desperately hoping that the wolves were on the track of some creature other than Elfling. It was not long, though, until he realized that this was not to be the case; Elfling was indeed the prey this night. He ran on.
Laiqua was a strong runner who could have loped on for days. In this case, however, endurance would not suffice. He could not outrun these wolves, and they would pull him down if they managed to surround him. He would slay a few with his bow, but he could not shoot in all directions simultaneously. As he ran, he scanned the horizon for anything that might afford him shelter, but the land was treeless and seemed otherwise featureless. From time to time, Laiqua slowed to shoot an arrow, and every time he did so he brought down a wolf, but at the same time the surviving wolves were able to draw closer.
Laiqua's plight was beginning to seem hopeless when he saw something ahead in the darkness. It was a boulder, an immense one. If he reached it, perhaps he could climb up out of reach of the wolves. Laiqua sprinted toward the boulder with new hope. Barely inches ahead of the lead wolf, he reached the boulder and scrambled up its craggy face. The disappointed wolves circled the boulder, sniffing the air and searching for a way to reach him. Laiqua nocked an arrow but held off shooting. He did not have enough arrows to kill all the wolves and decided instead to conserve his remaining shafts. At dawn these wolves might abandon the hunt and return to the forest without any further action on his part. At the moment, he was trapped but safe.
But perhaps he was not so safe. He heard a growling that came from outside the ring of wolves. It was deeper than the sound of any wolf he had ever heard. What was this new devilry!? Out of the night charged an enormous bear, as tall as a troll and certainly large enough to reach up with a mighty paw and sweep Laiqua off the boulder. The bear stormed into the pack of wolves, arose onto its rear limbs and began to strike out right and left. With each swing a wolf was catapulted howling into the air.
Soon no wolf was left. Most were dead; the few survivors were skulking back to their forest sanctuary. Laiqua was left alone with the bear. He heard it snuffling around the base of the rock, but it did not attempt to climb up or to reach Laiqua with its claws. As the stars crept across the sky, Laiqua crouched on the boulder, listening as the bear approached and retreated, approached and retreated. At last, sensing that the bear did not mean to threaten him, Laiqua stretched himself out on top of the rock to rest and await the dawn.
When the sun arose, there was no sign of the bear, and Laiqua realized that the wolf carcasses had been dragged off during the night. The only sign of the battle was the trampled grass. Laiqua climbed down from the rock. To his surprise, he saw a bundle of leather lying in the shade at the base of the boulder. He unwrapped the bundle and inside found a piece of honey comb as well as a hunk of bread thickly spread with butter. Had the beekeeper been abroad in the early morning and left this food? Laiqua eyed it thoughtfully. It occurred to him that the beekeeper might be in the habit of placing his noon meal at that spot, and he did not want to deprive the beekeeper of his lunch. Yet he sensed that the food was meant to be a gift from the Man to the Elfling, and he knew that he needed to stretch his own provisions as far as possible. After a few minutes, Laiqua nodded to himself and gratefully feasted on the honey and buttered bread.
Laiqua continued traveling southward, always keeping Greenwood in sight to the east and ever watchful for a sign that he was approaching Dol Guldur. One day at dusk he caught a glimpse of the distant tower. Good. He could now strike out due west. But suddenly he saw something else in the vicinity of Dol Guldur, and that something was moving. In a few moments his keen eyes could tell that the something was in fact made up of many individual specks, and those specks resolved themselves into vaguely manlike creatures that were scurrying in his direction. Given how close he was to Dol Guldur, there was a good chance that those creatures were Orcs. Yes, they were indeed Orcs. Why had he been so foolish as to come upon Dol Guldur at dusk, just when Orcs would be stirring. Ai! Valar!
For the second time Laiqua found himself running with a pack on his heels that would not be likely to abandon its pursuit before dawn. Moreover, he had used some of his arrows against the wolves and did not have nearly enough left to put up a defense against such a large band of Orcs. Laiqua did not even bother to get off any shots; instead he concentrated on maintaining the distance between himself and his pursuers.
The stars had traveled halfway across the canopy of the sky, and the Orcs were showing no sign of giving up the chase. Laiqua was now certain that these Orcs would not abandon the hunt before sunrise. Worse, the lead pursuers were very nearly within bowshot; from time to time Laiqua heard the twang of an arrow being released, but as of yet all his enemies' shafts had fallen short. Still, Laiqua felt the skin between his shoulder blades prickle unpleasantly at the prospect of being impaled by an Orcish arrow. Suddenly he saw a flickering light in the distance. A campfire! Anyone who stopped to camp at night was unlikely to be an Orc. He made for the light.
Even running as hard as he was, the Elfling scarcely made any noise. And no doubt Dwarves do not have hearing as keen as that of Elves. Whatever the reason, the Dwarves were not aware of Laiqua until he was upon them. In full career, Laiqua dashed into their camp, and it was only his elven gracefulness that saved him from trampling several Naugrim underfoot. The Dwarves leaped up with an angry roar, but their ire quickly turned from the Elf when they heard the heavy footfalls of the pursuing Orcs. Granted that the Naugrim do not like Elves, they like Orcs even less, so when the Orcs crashed into the camp, they were met not only by the bow of an Elfling but by the axes of Dwarves.
Laiqua had been able get off two shots and had drawn an arrow for a third when, with a sweep of his scimitar, a charging Orc knocked aside the Elfling's bow before he could fit the arrow to the string. Still clutching the arrow, Laiqua instinctively thrust it forward and pierced the Orc's throat. Dropping his weapon and clutching at his gullet, Laiqua's opponent collapsed at his feet. His death gave Laiqua no respite, however, as a pair of Orcs was now rushing him, one from the left, one from the right. The Elfling drew his knife, but how could he fend off two enemies with one blade? Stooping swiftly, Laiqua seized the fallen scimitar with his free hand. Thrusting outward with both arms, he used knife and scimitar to slash simultaneously at his two foes. After he had slain the two Orcs, Laiqua discarded the unwieldy scimitar and retrieved the bow, his weapon of choice. A few shots and axe blows later, the fight was over. No Orcs would return to Dol Guldur to tell the tale of the Battle of Dwarves and Elfling.
Now that the skirmish had ended, the Dwarves were not long in remembering the Elfling. He had been seen to play his part in the battle—that much they would have to admit—but their grumbling and the angry glances cast at him left him quite certain that they were indignant at his having led a troop of Orcs into their camp. Laiqua decided that he had best insinuate himself into their good graces—that is, if they had good graces, of which he was doubtful. In the Common Speech, he addressed the Dwarf whom he adjudged to be the leader, partly because he looked haughtiest, partly because he wore a golden chain around his neck and had a hood of better than average make.
"My Lord…" began Laiqua.
"Oh, my lord, is it," the Dwarf snorted. I've never known an Elf to be polite unless he wanted to weasel something out of an unfortunate Dwarf. No one trusts an Elf!"
"But my Lord…" Laiqua started again.
"Oh, aye, aye, my lord, my lord. What is it you want? Whatever it is, we can't provide it. We've been driven out of our home by an accursed dragon and can hardly supply our own needs."
When Laiqua had seen the quick work the Dwarves made of the Orcs, he thought that, if the Naugrim were traveling in his direction, he might ask them to allow him to journey alongside them. Their irascible leader, however, quickly made him abandon this plan. He would go on alone, even if doing so left him again vulnerable to Orcs and suchlike creatures.
"Truly, I want nothing—unless it be your permission to praise you for your valor and to beg pardon for my intrusion. Farewell, Master Dwarf!"
Bowing, Laiqua began to inch away from the scowling Dwarf until he had passed beyond the ring of light cast by the fire. Then he turned and walked away as swiftly as dignity permitted while the Dwarves flung imprecations at his back. Laiqua was glad that he could not understand the dwarvish tongue. "By the Valar!" he thought, "I pray that I never again find myself in the company of a Dwarf!"