Throughout the rest of the night and into the morning hours, through the high winds and the torrential rains, Arod led Aragorn and his men towards Legolas. The night was a dark one, the only light coming from the lightning that flashed ceaselessly above. But that mattered not to the grim, determined band, for Arod needed no light to find the trail by. And so they had forged on, stopping midmorning to rest, but their break was a short one. As soon as the horses were refreshed enough, the men took the reigns up once again, following the white Rohirrim horse.
As before, the trail looped and circled this way and that, but that grew to be less and further between, and then path became all at once straight, as the elf's abductors had been confident that by now the trail would have been lost. But now and again in the earlier part of the morning, Arod faltered at times, whipping his tail. Often the delay was not long, but Aragorn knew that the trail was growing old, even for Arod's heightened senses. He was relieved when for two full hours, the trail led them straight on. Mountains were in the distance and the horse seemed to be making straight for them.
Now, towards the evening of the second day that they'd been in this dreary land, they reached the foot of the mountains. There were many cave openings and Aragorn dismounted. The rest of his men followed and he let fall Arod's reigns, leaving the horse free to move about at will. Here the horse surveyed the openings, sniffing this way and that. But the trail failed here and he stomped at the ground, confused. But Aragorn patted his head and spoke reassuring words to him in elvish.
Gimli was impatient, and would have checked every one of the some two or three dozen caves, had Aragorn not stopped him. Next to him, Faramir was just as anxious to begin the search.
"Lord Aragorn," he protested after standing as still and silent as he could.
But Aragorn did not turn his gaze to Gondor's Steward and instead looked unseeingly at the mountainside, lost in thought perhaps. After a few moments, he began to search the ground, all to no avail. For here still the ground was stony and he could gather no information on which cave it was that his friend had been taken into. He sighed.
"Sire, let us split up and search for Legolas," pleaded Faramir.
"No, we must not waste precious time. Not should our small strength be broken, though each man here is mighty in arms. We do not know how many of the enemy we shall find."
"What then shall we do?" asked Gimli.
"We must look for a sign."
As if in response to his wishes, Arod suddenly neighed and tossed his head. He walked towards the last cave mouth to the right and stood by it, for the opening was narrow. Now the men moved forwards again, weapons drawn, ready to meet the enemy head on. Aragorn took to the front of them, Gimli behind his friend and Faramir taking to the rear.
Into the cave they went, their eyes having to adjust to the inky blackness around them. The stone walls were terribly close at first, but soon they opened up into a larger space. Faramir lit a torch, as did all save Gimli, and they saw that they were in the main hall of what might have once been a dwarven stronghold. But of what time and history the place was from, not even Gimli knew, for it was a forgotten place, and the long years of uselessness had weighed heavy upon it.
Pillars stood broken here and there, the toppled remnants littering the floor. It appeared that orcs had used it at one time, for foul writing graffitied the walls, but even that was old and the inks they'd used were beginning to wear away. Arched doorways stood here and there. Once the hinges had held mighty doors of wood and metal, but now all the wood had rotted away, and the metal cast to one side. The great door hinges stood naked and the darkness beyond them was the only door they had known for countless years.
"Stay close together," Aragorn cautioned his men as they began to search for other signs.
The ground was rock, but here and there the layers of caked dust held endless overlapping trails of footprints. It would be no use in trying to follow them. They began to search each of the rooms that lay beyond the great doorways. Half of the group took to the left, the rest to the right. Each side would call the other if anything was found.
The group on the left, headed by Faramir, began their search. Beyond the first door was a store room; the brittle bones of long decayed meat lay in one corner. Hooks and shelves covered the walls. There was no other doorway. In the next room, was a bunker of sorts, for cots lined the room, each on bunked three or four layers high.
To the right side, Aragorn's group found a great armory. Weapons of badly tarnished metal stood solemnly in place, awaiting the hands of warriors that were never to return. After that was a dining hall; for long rows of stone tables stood there, but there were no seats, and Gimli knew that they would have been of wood.
And so the search continued. A dozen rooms they checked all together until at last they found signs of recent life. Sacks of unidentifiable food were stored in a room that Aragorn looked into. But there also was food meant for a man, elf, or dwarf. Salted meats, dry fruit, and wine were among the stash.
Faramir found a different room, and this too proved to the men that hope remained. For the passage they took led to an adjacent cave, and here there were several horses stabled. Fresh hay was laid out for them and water too, but only other doorway led out of the cave.
The men filed back into the main room, and the search began anew. But now Aragorn cried aloud to his men, for beyond the center doorway was a narrow hallway, and beyond that, a twisting stone staircase that led downwards to a lower level.
