Chapter Two











Irenon relieved Aragorn in the morning. Strider returned to his room, threw himself on his bed and promptly fell into a deep sleep.


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Estel woke several hours later. Inziladun was sitting beside his bed, mending a shirt. When he noticed that Strider had awoken, he quickly rose and brought over a tray with Aragorn's breakfast. Estel looked at him and noted his thoughtful expression. "What is it, lad?" the ranger asked.

"I was just thinking," the boy replied. "If you are able to rescue the elves, King Giran will organize a search for you. They expect you to try to leave the country immediately. You should probably hide somewhere nearby."

Aragorn stared at the boy. That had been a ranger's logic. "That was well thought of, Inziladun," Aragorn smiled at him. "I had thought of that some myself. You would make a good ranger."

The youth smiled at the praise. "One of the last things my father taught me was that if someone hunts you, hide the last place they will look for you and don't move until they think you've gone."

"He sounds like he had a ranger's training," Aragorn commented.

"He did, sir," Inziladun replied, proudly. "He was a Dunadan of Arnor."

That surprised Aragorn. "Then what was his name?" he asked.

"Inzilakhor, friend of Arathorn," the lad said, beaming.

"I met him once! He came to Rivendell, where I was raised, once when I was little. In fact, as I recall, you were with him!" Strider exclaimed excitedly.

"Me?" Inziladun gasped incredulously. "I don't remember that.

Estel chuckled. "You were a baby then. I had just turned six and was quite chagrined, having no idea what to do with the squalling baby that was to stay with us for a couple years."

"I was there for that long?" Inziladun exclaimed, his mouth dropping open.

"Yes, indeed you were," the young ranger replied, smiling. "Inzilakhor left you there until you were old enough to take into the wild. Whatever did happen to him?"

"He was tracking orcs just north of here, when some of the king's soldiers found him," the youth explained sadly. "There was a fight and Father was killed. They didn't kill me, because I was young enough not to be a threat to them. Instead, they brought me here and sold me. That was twelve years ago."


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That day, Estel wandered around the city, looking for an unfrequented alley. Most of the city was bustling with activity. Slaves ran here and there on errands for their masters. Merchants and craftsmen plied their trades where ever there was enough room. Soldiers marched through the streets, telling coarse jokes and laughing loudly. Other men and women sauntered around, stopping now and then to look at some trinket that caught their eyes.

Aragorn blended in well, stopping periodically to buy some useful item that they would need when they left the castle. It was not until mid afternoon that he found what he was looking for.



The alley-way was not noticeable to the untrained eye, but Aragorn was used to looking for the unnoticeable. Slipping in, he found that, after the first few feet, the alley widened out into what resembled a courtyard surrounded by abandoned, run-down buildings. Looking around, he was satisfied that no one had been tree for many years and decided that, most likely, no one even remembered the place existed. He placed that day's purchases in a dark corner and left quickly and quietly.