Chapter Five
Giran was livid. His plan would have worked if it were not for that treacherous, young spy. It might still work if he could get the two elven prisoners within his grasp again.
He bellowed threats and orders to his captains, who were quaking with fear, not that most people would see that. If they did not find Elrohir and Legolas, they would be in deep trouble, to put it very mildly. Yet an elf, having escaped, would spare no pains to avoid recapture. It was quite natural, but it boded ill for all inside the palace. And especially for the young ranger who started the whole mess.
Inziladun watched by the opening of the alley as the soldiers paced by, obviously searching for him and his friends. Legolas walked over and touched him on the shoulder. Inziladun looked at him. "Stay back," the mortal boy whispered. "The search has begun!"
Legolas cupped his hand at his lips and tipped his head back. Inziladun nodded his head and beckoned Legolas to follow him. He led the young elf into one of the less shabby buildings. In the first room, there was a pool of water. Legolas knelt down and drank thirstily.
Aragorn woke to find himself by a stone wall somewhere with no light. His head throbbed where he had been struck. He tried to put his hand to the wound, only to find that his hands were chained to the wall above his head. He groaned in frustration. Everything had gone wrong and Estel's only desire was to know that his friends had escaped, or everything would have been in vain.
He had no idea how long he remained like that, drifting in and out of a light doze. For all he knew, a day or two could have passed when the soldiers entered his cell. He raised his eyes slowly as men and orcs filled the room. This was not good. An older orc jerked him to his feet. "Where are the prisoners?" he snarled viciously, digging his fingernails into Strider's shoulders.
Estel flinched. "I know not!" he whispered calmly. Good, the others had made it to the alley. Otherwise, his captors would not be questioning him.
The orc slammed the ranger's head against the wall. Aragorn winced. At that, the captain back-handed the orc disgustedly. "Snaga, you simpleton!" he bellowed. "I'm here to extract answers from the prisoner, not to kill him!" He forcibly turned Aragorn around, exposing the young man's back. "This is your last chance, boy," the man growled. "Tell us where your friends are and it will spare you a lot of pain."
Aragorn's eyes widened in fear, but he shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "I'd rather die."
The captain became quite angry about this. "That is one thing you won't do, even if you wish otherwise." He grabbed a whip from an orc and brought it down on the young man's shoulders.
Aragorn shook his head and tried to pull away. He had not thought that a whip could hurt that much through his leather vest. The captain tied Strider's hands to the metal ring his chains hung from, forcing Aragorn to stand on his toes. The young ranger's heart was pounding in his chest. He was not sure how much pain he could take and he feared betraying those he had risked everything to rescue.