Thank you, farflung. You, too, dragonfly32. I think I'm getting addicted to reviews. I get some and immediately I want more. So….
From Pursuer To Pursued
For a long moment the two Elves stared at each other. It was Elrohir who spoke first.
"Anomen," he whispered, "what are you doing here? They'll catch you! And after this"—he nodded at the body of the Southron—"they'll torture you, maybe even kill you!"
Anomen knelt beside his friend and cut his bonds. "I'd think it would be obvious what I'm doing," he whispered back. "I've come for you and Elladan."
"Anomen, Ada said no heroics!"
Anomen stared at him. It had never entered his mind that he was doing anything 'heroic'. He hadn't bravely flung himself into battle. Instead, he had crept along as best he could, biding his time, waiting for an opportunity not to perform a noble deed but to steal away with his friends. Would Elrond think this 'heroic'? Ai! How many shields would he have to polish now!?
With a sigh, Anomen turned to Elladan and cut the ropes binding his hands and feet. Elrohir was sitting up and rubbing his wrists and his ankles, but Elladan did not move.
"Anomen, Elladan won't be able to escape, and I will not leave him! Please go! You can't help us, and you're only putting yourself in danger!"
"The two of us can carry Elladan."
"We won't be able to outrun those Southrons!"
"Yes, we will."
"Carrying Elladan!?"
"We won't have to carry him far. We merely need to find somewhere to hide him, somewhere a little closer to the border of Imladris."
"But that would take us further from Rivendell!"
"True, but the Southrons won't be looking for an Elf in that direction. We hide Elladan, then return to this camp, covering our tracks as we go. Once in the camp, we set out toward Rivendell, being sure now to leave a clear trail. The Southrons will be looking for two Elves fleeing in the direction of Rivendell. They'll follow us. I am sure we can keep ahead of them long enough to reach safety. Glorfindel's scouts will be searching for us by now, so we only need to elude our pursuers for a short time, just long enough to reach the scouts. And once we find them, we will lead them back to Elladan." Once we find the scouts, Anomen thought to himself, and once the Southrons are dead. Anomen knew that the Southrons could not be allowed to escape. He had heard the words of their leader: the Dunlendings have shown us the way into Imladris; we will not need their services in the future. Anomen wished to lead on the slavers to decoy them away from Elladan but also to make sure that none survived to guide other raiders into Elrond's realm.
Elrohir began to allow himself to believe that Anomen's plan might work. "Very well," he said softly. "Let us make use of every remaining moment of darkness." The two of them lifted Elladan gently and carried him from the clearing. They had not gone very far when they came across a fallen tree, its trunk hollow. Carefully they maneuvered the unconscious Elladan into this hiding place.
"What if he wakes up and wanders off?" worried Elrohir.
"Speak to him," urged Anomen. "Urge him to stay quietly hidden. I know he is unconscious, but your bond with him is so strong that he may yet hear and understand you."
Elrohir nodded and bent down to the opening in the trunk. "Elladan, we will come back for you; meanwhile, stay still—do not stray!" He straightened up and helped Anomen scatter some broken branches in front of the fissure. Then the two of them turned back toward the Southron camp, carefully obliterating all signs of their passage as they went.
Once back at the camp, they did exactly as they had planned. They set off toward Rivendell, making no effort whatsoever to hide their trail. At first they ran as quickly as they could, but Anomen soon insisted that they go slower.
"Why?" asked Elrohir. "Should we not try to stay well out of their reach?"
"No," answered Anomen. "If we pull too far ahead, they may give up and turn back. That would take them toward Elladan. We must let them think that they have an excellent chance of catching us; their greed will then draw them onward." Anomen hesitated. "And there is another reason that we must encourage them to keep up the pursuit."
Quickly Anomen explained his plan to lead the Southrons to a patrol so that the slave-traders might be slain. To his surprise, Elrohir did not look horrified or disgusted. Instead, he nodded in somber agreement.
"This does not trouble you?" Anomen asked in astonishment. "Were you not horrified when you saw that I had cut the throat of the Southron guard?"
"I was horrified, yes, but only because I thought that you were in grave danger. I was shocked to see you in the camp, but I was not shocked at your action." He paused. "And I saw what that Southron and his ilk did to the Dunlendings."
Anomen had spent a lifetime holding back forbidden tears, but now he could not stop a few from springing to his eyes, so glad was he that Elrohir was not disgusted with him. He was not happy that he had killed the Southron, but he believed that the death was a necessary one, and he was relieved to find that Elrohir thought so as well.
The two friends jogged on steadily for several hours, knowing that each step they took led the Southrons one step away from Elladan and one step closer to the scouts. After awhile, however, Elladan began to fear that the Southrons were following too closely.
"Anomen, do you hear that?" he asked at last. Anomen paused and listened carefully. Yes, he could make out the sounds of heavily booted feet. But he heard another sound as well.
"Elrohir, a patrol draws near!"
"Let us hurry then!"
"No! Let us go even slower!"
"Is your brain warg-addled!? Do you want them to capture us!?"
"Elrohir, if we let them catch up with us a little more, mayhap they will become so excited that they will lose all wariness—and that will be all the better for our warriors!"
Elrohir thought for a moment and then grinned. "Anomen, now that I know how devious you can be, I will never trust you again!"
Anomen returned the grin. He could almost pretend that the events of the last few days had never taken place, that he was still an elfing rather than a warrior who had slain his first foe.
The two friends resumed a steady trot, but at a slightly slower pace. After awhile voices as well as footsteps reverberated through the woods.
"They can't be far enough. I'm sure of that."
"Let's pick up the pace. I can't wait to get my hands on those two brats. Pity they're so valuable—I'd like to skin them both."
"I think," whispered Elrohir, "that we might go just a trifle faster, don't you think, Anomen?"
Anomen nodded, and they sped up from a trot to a run. Anomen was convinced that they were within yards of the patrol, and he did not think it would matter at this point if he and Elrohir put a little distance between themselves and the Southrons.
Even Anomen was surprised, however, when he and Elrohir burst into a clearing and found themselves in the midst of the patrol. The mounted Elves seemed to be waiting for them, as indeed they were. The scouts had heard Elrohir and Anomen's approach as easily as the two young Elves had heard theirs.
"Glorfindel," gasped Anomen, "a band of Southrons is pursuing us. They are very close!"
Glorfindel nodded calmly as if this news also was no surprise to him. "Up into that tree, the two of you. Berenmaethor, you lead your group to the left; Taurmeldir, you lead yours to the right. I will remain here."
Elrohir and Anomen scrambled into the tree, and all the other Elves but Glorfindel vanished into the woods on either side of their leader. Scarcely minutes later, the Southrons huffed into the clearing, pulling up short in surprise when they found themselves confronting a solitary Elf on horseback. After a moment of hesitation, however, the leader found his voice.
"Well, boys, here's that lone Elf I was talking about last night." He drew his sword and laughed, and his fellow slavers drew their swords as well. Still laughing, the Southron leader took a step forward. It was the last step he ever took. He fell, his head, neck, and torso riddled with arrows. The remaining Southrons, with a foolhardiness born of stupidity and stubbornness, split up and rushed into the woods on either side to seek out the slayers of their leader. Elrohir and Anomen could not see what transpired, but no Southron ever returned to the clearing. Instead, the scouts stepped out wiping their swords.
Glorfindel looked up into the tree where Elrohir and Anomen had hidden themselves. "Come down now and tell me of Elladan. Does he live?"
Elrohir and Anomen scrambled down from the tree even more hastily than they had ascended it.
"Elladan is alive," cried Elrohir, "but he is badly hurt! We can lead you to him!"
"Do both of you know where he is?"
"Yes!" declared Elrohir.
"Then I want you to return to Rivendell with Berenmaethor. Anomen will ride with me and guide me to Elladan."
"But I want to be with Elladan," protested Elrohir.
"I understand, Elrohir, but, although I suspect you have not complained of it, you are badly bruised, are you not? Anomen is uninjured. I believe I will be able to travel faster with him as my guide. And speed is of importance in this case, is it not?"
Reluctantly Elrohir conceded that this was so, and Berenmaethor pulled him up behind him. Escorted by a number of the scouts, they turned toward Rivendell. Glorfindel and Anomen, meanwhile, accompanied by Taurmeldir and the remaining scouts, rode toward the border of Imladris.
TBC