"Start a fire!" the lord ordered, "Heat some water! Keep a full guard, there may be some orcs who escaped alive." He knelt beside Damial, and Legolas saw the younger man's chest moving in ragged breaths. A sense of relief filled him and he realised for the first time how worried he'd been. He could have sent that young man to his death.
The lord ordered bandages and herbs to be made ready. The others who were injured were tended quickly, but the lord seemed determined to heal Damial himself.
An anxious crowd stood round him as he cleaned and dressed wounds, lifting Damial's head to pour some concoction down his throat. An hour passed, perhaps more, and at last the lord sat back. Damial was breathing more easily now, much of his body covered in clean cloths.
Legolas found himself relaxing as the men did, when it was pronounced that Damial would live.
"We will remain here until tomorrow," the lord announced, "rest while you can. We leave at dawn."
The children and Legolas were let out of the wagon, and Legolas found himself sitting near Damial. He was sleeping now, strangely peaceful. His face was almost as pale as the bandages he was wrapped in. He looked so much like a child as he lay there that Legolas wondered anew at the cruelty of orcs. He wondered if he should have taken up the human's offer and gone with them to find Damial. Then some of the orcs might be dead because of him. As it was, the only one to suffer because of him was lying beside him now.
Damial's eyes fluttered open, and Legolas was pulled out of his thoughts. If an instant, the human lord was kneeling beside Damial. How he'd seen the minute movement, Legolas couldn't have guessed.
Damial tried to sit up, but a gentle hand held him to the ground.
"Lie still," the lord said, "you've taken quite a beating."
"I tried to fight," Damial said in a pain-laced voice, "but there were too many. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise. You were outnumbered. Even the best of men cannot fight for so long against so many."
"And I'm certainly not the best of men."
"Why do you insist on comparing yourself to those around you? They are older than you, they have more experience. It does not lessen your skills that they are better than you."
"How do you know who is better?" Damial asked, "You will not let me prove myself."
"Look around you, Damial. These men have fought many battles. They have lived in the wild and learned how to see and pass unseen. We are in lands filled with danger. Is it not natural that I should want to have as my guards and scouts those who have seen first hand what it is we must avoid."
"But I will never see if you don't let me."
"Life will give you plenty of tests, Damial, more than you will want. You will have more than enough chances of proving yourself. For now, let those who are older take the responsibility. A day will come when you are the one who knows best and another young one wants to prove himself, and you will know then why I do what I do now." The lord stood and turned away, but Damial called after him.
"Why did you come after me?"
"You did a foolish thing in running off, Damial, but everyone makes mistakes. I was not about to let you pay for yours with your life."
"Thank you." The lord left then. Having seen what he would do for one of his people, Legolas now understood why they were so fiercely loyal.
***
"Where is it that you are taking me?" Legolas asked later. The company were split, with some relaxing, some standing on guard. The lord had just come over to check on Damial, sleeping beside the prisoner.
"North," the man replied, unhelpfully.
"I know the direction," Legolas said, "I wish to know the destination."
"And I wish to know your name. Perhaps an exchange?" Legolas' glare was all the answer given. He was stubbornly determined not to give this man his name.
"Is your name so precious that you will not share it?" the man smiled.
"I have no wish for my name to be fouled by being uttered by a man such as you. One who would buy children and deal in slaves."
To Legolas' immense surprise, the man gave a low laugh. "You are the first slave I've ever bought," he said.
"Why?" Legolas asked, confused, "Why then did you buy me?"
"I bought you at the request of another. I will deliver you to him."
"Who is he?" Legolas asked, suddenly afraid. Whoever had sent these men must have known exactly where they must go, and so must know exactly who was being brought to him.
"Someone willing to pay a thousand gold pieces for you," the man said, "That is why I would like to know your name. I would like to know who it is that is so valuable."
"So that you know whether to demand more money or not?" The man didn't answer. A thought struck Legolas. He would never have dreamed of this as an option before, but learning that someone would pay so much for him for some hidden purpose made him desperate. He would use this man's greed against him.
"If you release me," Legolas said, "I will see that you are rewarded with twice what you are offered for me as a prisoner."
The man looked at him for a long moment, expression unreadable. "Why should I trust you to do as you say?" he asked finally.
"I give you my word," Legolas answered. That should have been enough, but the man gave a derisive laugh.
"And why should I trust your word?"
"An elf would never break an oath."
The stone mask that had covered the man's face melted for an instant. White hot rage burned beneath the surface. In an action that made Legolas cry out, more from surprise than pain, the man leapt forward and seized his hair, yanking his head back. Strong fingers tugged painfully at blond strands, and for a brief moment Legolas saw hatred flashing in the man's eyes.
"You are a naïve fool to believe that," the man said in a low, menacing tone. Legolas had never experienced anything like the intensity of that gaze, filled with so much anger, rage and pain. Legolas couldn't conceive of anything that could make someone feel such fierce hatred. The eyes bore into him, burning holes right through to his soul.
"An elf will break a promise sworn to one dying," the man said, "An elf will cast aside an oath when the need suits him. An elf will throw away that which he claims to hold dear." The man released his grip then and walked away. Legolas sagged with relief, not to be free of the grasp, but to be free of those eyes. He hoped he never saw emotion like that again.
Some time later, Ethindal came up to him, bearing his evening meal. Legolas looked across to where the lord was talking to one of his men.
"Why does your lord hate elves so much?" Legolas asked.
"He doesn't hate elves," Ethindal stressed the final word. "He hate one elf. The one who broke a promise made to my lord's parents. The one who betrayed him."
***
Author's note: Again, it's a little short, but it's better than not updating at all. Reviews welcome, as always, and they might even convince me to update quicker.
The lord ordered bandages and herbs to be made ready. The others who were injured were tended quickly, but the lord seemed determined to heal Damial himself.
An anxious crowd stood round him as he cleaned and dressed wounds, lifting Damial's head to pour some concoction down his throat. An hour passed, perhaps more, and at last the lord sat back. Damial was breathing more easily now, much of his body covered in clean cloths.
Legolas found himself relaxing as the men did, when it was pronounced that Damial would live.
"We will remain here until tomorrow," the lord announced, "rest while you can. We leave at dawn."
The children and Legolas were let out of the wagon, and Legolas found himself sitting near Damial. He was sleeping now, strangely peaceful. His face was almost as pale as the bandages he was wrapped in. He looked so much like a child as he lay there that Legolas wondered anew at the cruelty of orcs. He wondered if he should have taken up the human's offer and gone with them to find Damial. Then some of the orcs might be dead because of him. As it was, the only one to suffer because of him was lying beside him now.
Damial's eyes fluttered open, and Legolas was pulled out of his thoughts. If an instant, the human lord was kneeling beside Damial. How he'd seen the minute movement, Legolas couldn't have guessed.
Damial tried to sit up, but a gentle hand held him to the ground.
"Lie still," the lord said, "you've taken quite a beating."
"I tried to fight," Damial said in a pain-laced voice, "but there were too many. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise. You were outnumbered. Even the best of men cannot fight for so long against so many."
"And I'm certainly not the best of men."
"Why do you insist on comparing yourself to those around you? They are older than you, they have more experience. It does not lessen your skills that they are better than you."
"How do you know who is better?" Damial asked, "You will not let me prove myself."
"Look around you, Damial. These men have fought many battles. They have lived in the wild and learned how to see and pass unseen. We are in lands filled with danger. Is it not natural that I should want to have as my guards and scouts those who have seen first hand what it is we must avoid."
"But I will never see if you don't let me."
"Life will give you plenty of tests, Damial, more than you will want. You will have more than enough chances of proving yourself. For now, let those who are older take the responsibility. A day will come when you are the one who knows best and another young one wants to prove himself, and you will know then why I do what I do now." The lord stood and turned away, but Damial called after him.
"Why did you come after me?"
"You did a foolish thing in running off, Damial, but everyone makes mistakes. I was not about to let you pay for yours with your life."
"Thank you." The lord left then. Having seen what he would do for one of his people, Legolas now understood why they were so fiercely loyal.
***
"Where is it that you are taking me?" Legolas asked later. The company were split, with some relaxing, some standing on guard. The lord had just come over to check on Damial, sleeping beside the prisoner.
"North," the man replied, unhelpfully.
"I know the direction," Legolas said, "I wish to know the destination."
"And I wish to know your name. Perhaps an exchange?" Legolas' glare was all the answer given. He was stubbornly determined not to give this man his name.
"Is your name so precious that you will not share it?" the man smiled.
"I have no wish for my name to be fouled by being uttered by a man such as you. One who would buy children and deal in slaves."
To Legolas' immense surprise, the man gave a low laugh. "You are the first slave I've ever bought," he said.
"Why?" Legolas asked, confused, "Why then did you buy me?"
"I bought you at the request of another. I will deliver you to him."
"Who is he?" Legolas asked, suddenly afraid. Whoever had sent these men must have known exactly where they must go, and so must know exactly who was being brought to him.
"Someone willing to pay a thousand gold pieces for you," the man said, "That is why I would like to know your name. I would like to know who it is that is so valuable."
"So that you know whether to demand more money or not?" The man didn't answer. A thought struck Legolas. He would never have dreamed of this as an option before, but learning that someone would pay so much for him for some hidden purpose made him desperate. He would use this man's greed against him.
"If you release me," Legolas said, "I will see that you are rewarded with twice what you are offered for me as a prisoner."
The man looked at him for a long moment, expression unreadable. "Why should I trust you to do as you say?" he asked finally.
"I give you my word," Legolas answered. That should have been enough, but the man gave a derisive laugh.
"And why should I trust your word?"
"An elf would never break an oath."
The stone mask that had covered the man's face melted for an instant. White hot rage burned beneath the surface. In an action that made Legolas cry out, more from surprise than pain, the man leapt forward and seized his hair, yanking his head back. Strong fingers tugged painfully at blond strands, and for a brief moment Legolas saw hatred flashing in the man's eyes.
"You are a naïve fool to believe that," the man said in a low, menacing tone. Legolas had never experienced anything like the intensity of that gaze, filled with so much anger, rage and pain. Legolas couldn't conceive of anything that could make someone feel such fierce hatred. The eyes bore into him, burning holes right through to his soul.
"An elf will break a promise sworn to one dying," the man said, "An elf will cast aside an oath when the need suits him. An elf will throw away that which he claims to hold dear." The man released his grip then and walked away. Legolas sagged with relief, not to be free of the grasp, but to be free of those eyes. He hoped he never saw emotion like that again.
Some time later, Ethindal came up to him, bearing his evening meal. Legolas looked across to where the lord was talking to one of his men.
"Why does your lord hate elves so much?" Legolas asked.
"He doesn't hate elves," Ethindal stressed the final word. "He hate one elf. The one who broke a promise made to my lord's parents. The one who betrayed him."
***
Author's note: Again, it's a little short, but it's better than not updating at all. Reviews welcome, as always, and they might even convince me to update quicker.