Part 5

My forth birthday came and went, as little celebrated as the cold winter which accompanied it. It was so harsh that Malkemen, now almost eight, had little trouble finding work, and often used it to get us a room warmer then the cave at night. The only help my birthday brought was that because I was a year older, I was one year closer to leaving the miserable town of Nove, and setting off on the wonderful adventure my brother planned for us. The demons continued to come, but I was aware and prepared for them, and somehow realized that if I thought hard enough about holding onto them, I could keep them away to some extent. Spring bloomed effortlessly, and all thoughts of the harsh winter washed away with the rains, and I was hopeful for the future. Except for when I was hungry.

We walked in the brisk morning to the town. There was a little well on the left side of the street that was used by the people who didn't have their own, most of them who lived on the other side of town. Why it was placed here, I never truly understood. However, this well served it's own purpose to us; this is where we met any villager who wanted our, or rather Malkemen's, service.

The air was crisp, and the dew stung my bare feet. Still far off in the field, I could see no one was awaiting us at the foot of the well. It was the third day in a row. I felt my stomach, which hadn't eaten for the past two days, start to coil around itself. Oh, please let him work with the women and fish today!

We made our way to where a gaggle of women were scaling yesterday's catch. Their leader saw us instantly. "No work for ya her, young rascles. We've got young Miss Petty now." She nodded to the young girl, a few years older then Malkemen, who was furiously trying to master the art. "We'll need you even less."

Malkemen nodded, and we turned away.

"You're better then she is."

He nodded.

"Why don't you tell them that?"

"Because they already know."

"Then why don't they hire you?"

"Because they don't like me."

"Why?"

"They just don't."

"If they did like you, would they hire you for every day instead. Why don't you work somewhere everyday?"

"This work, it's women's work. They won't take me everyday."

"What's the difference between men's and women's work? Why can't you do either?"

"That's just how it is."

"I don't like it."

"It's just how it is."

"Why don't you get a job every day doing man's work?"

"I've asked, and no one's taken me."

"Why don't you ask again?"

"Because they know I'm here. I offer all the time, and no one ever accepts. We never leave, Kinya. Everyone knows who we are."

"So?" This wasn't making any sense.

He just shook his head.

I felt like I was gasping for food, and receiving only air to remind me of the emptiness. "Mahkemn, Mahkemn, I'm hungry."

He patted my head. "I know, little sister, I know. I am too." He paused. "I think we're gonna have to steal today."

"Mahkemn?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Why don't we just steal every day? It's so much easier, and then you don't have to work all day, but we can go and play and do other stuff."

"It's wrong to steal."

"Why?"

"Because we didn't earn the food. Someone else did."

"Yes, we did. We earned it by taking it from them."

He stopped me and put his hands on my shoulders. "I know you don't know enough to say any better, which is why I'm being patient. It is wrong to steal. We should work if we can. How would you feel if you worked all day, every day, to earn your family food and shelter, and someone took that away from you. How would you feel?"

I thought furiously. "But, Mahkemn, someone did."

He sighed. "Yes, someone did. And was it very nice?"

"No. But if they can, we can to, right? If everyone steals, then it's alright, right?"

"You just said it wasn't very nice. So what's the point of helping the bad along, when it's already there so much?"

"But the bad's still there, Mahkemn! I'm still hungery, Mother's still dead, and we still live in a cave."

"I know, baby sister, I know." He put his arms around me. "We can't control other people's actions, but we can ours, so lets not make it any worse a world then we have to. Come on, Sunshine."

I nodded, trudging beside him. Hand in hand, as we made towards the market.

Malkemen left me sitting on a barrel filled with foul mead and went off to mingle with the folk purchasing from the vendors. My small stomach gurgled at the distant smells of warm baked flatbreads topped with melted cheese and fried fish hot and dripping with oil. Even that horrid meat that plagued the whole town was more then appetizing. I saw my brother, patiently winding himself through the hoard of foul scents that were people. He did not dodge or dart, but became part of the crowd, so other's did see him, but did not look at him. He had patiently explained this to me many times, and I still did not understand it. However, it seemed to work, and I trusted him, so I simply accepted it for being true.

My silent watch was forced to withdraw when the cottage door opened behind me to reveal four men exiting. One was Raschk, the blacksmith, whose home I was sitting in front of, and I felt suddenly nervous. The other three were very tall, and obviously dressed for travel. The first seemed to be a leader who had no authority over the other two except that he was simply the logical choice to command. I studied him a moment, thinking his face was somewhat familiar. I assumed he'd passed by before. He was tan and rough skinned, and his clothes were as dark as his hair that fell unkempt about his shoulders. Every inch of him seemed to be stitched, worn, dirtied, patched, and filled in every possible place with a weapon or other unknown item. The other two were taller, leaner, and far fairer to the eye. Half of their fawn hair was tied back, leaving the rest to fall perfectly about their shoulders and chests. Although they were the obviously companions of the first stranger, they did not bare the same unkempt look, for every inch of them was clean and unscathed. Their ears were also something to behold, as they were pointed; they were elves.

The first was thanking Raschk, apparently for a night's food and lodging.

"You're traveling south now, is it?" asked Raschk. "How far down- just past the Brandywine into Minhiriath?"

The leader shook his head. "Nay- we're going past the Greyflood into Enedwith, and eventually back into Dunland." His voice was surprisingly deep and even for one of such an appearance.

"What brought you up here into Herlindon?"

Another, the taller of the two elves, spoke up. "We skirted the edge of the Shire to travel the Ered Luins. It's different territory we haven't tracked before." He offered no further explanation.

All further conversation was cut off when an outraged yell accompanied by a strangled cry was released above the chatter of the market. My head snapped in that direction, and I saw, amidst the crowd, Talcum, his forehead red and furious, holding my brother by the neck. The small piece of bread he had evidently attempted to steal lay forgotten in the muddy ground, and I saw that Malkemen's feet were several inches above it.

I set off as fast as my four-year-old legs would carry me. I raced towards him, though anything I could possibly do would have little meaning against Talcum's ferocity. I tried to push through the crowd, despite cries of "Ya," and "Look, there's the lil' whore!" and "Here comes that bitch!"

I had forgotten about the three travelers. They stomped past me, brushing aside people much better then I could to get to my brother where Talcum was close to strangling him. The leader placed a dagger sharply across Talcum's throat. "Release him," he growled.

Talcum looked up at him, hands still grasping Malkemen's neck. As he did so, a complex string of emotions crossed his face. His brows furrowed and scrunched so that they seemed to be one, and his upper lip became slack to reveal his uncared for teeth. That moment of taking the sight in was closely followed by an indignant look where his jaw and lip tightened and his eyes became so small I could hardly see them behind his condensed eyebrows. At this the man applied a slight pressure to his bare neck, and Talcum mustered what dignity that he could, his nose now scrunched as though he smelled an awful stench. Malkemen was thrown roughly to the ground, and by this time I had pushed through the gasping crowd and was able to kneel at his side. He sat gasping and massaging his throat. However, no one paid any attention to us, for the action above was much more climatic.

Talcum's face had not changed again, but his eyes held a fire pit of fury and his skin was beet red. "Who are you to place your blade on me? You don't belong here!"

The leader replaced his dagger solemnly. "I am called Halbarad, and this is Elladan and Elrohir. I am a Ranger of the North, and they are of Rivendell, sons of Lord Elrond."

"And what right do you, Ranger of the North, have that allows you to stop me from strangling that little wench? I've been waiting eight years to do so, waiting to catch him in the act. Tis our law that tis penalty of death for stealing, and I have followed that law me whole life."

Halbarad sighed. "I'm afraid, then, our two laws contradict, for it is my law that where ever I go I stop unjust affairs such as strangling a starving street-child. If you wish to settle this dispute, I am happy to negotiate." He drew his sword. "Though I can promise you, you won't win."

I did not have the opportunity to observe further, for my brother had apparently regained his voice, and with it whispered sharply, "Come, Kinya, we must flee." With a quick tug, he pulled me out of the crowd until we were able to sprint for the cave. There may have been noises or footsteps following, but I didn't hear them above the rushing of my ears and thudding of my tiny heart.

We reached the outskirts of the cave, breathless, and instead of descending into its depths we stood shuddering on the cliff. I started crying as soon as the distraction of running away was no longer present, but my brother did not comfort me, which made me cry even harder. I looked over at him, and saw that he was crying, too, alone on the cliff face. I didn't want him to cry. He was the big one, he was the one who made everything better. Trying to help, I walked over to him and put my arms around him as well as I could, and he laughed at my feeble attempts and hugged me.

We stayed there for some time, until I suddenly felt myself driven to look back toward Nove, and was somewhat startled, yet for some reason not altogether surprised, to see our rescuers marching towards us.

"Mahkemn!" I proclaimed, panting. "Look!"

He stood up swiftly beside me, and we both stood silently as they approached. With their brisk pace and long legs, it took only a few moments for them to be standing before us. Malkemen had his eyes respectfully to the ground, while I foolishly looked straight up at them, blinking. They were a few feet away, their expressions grim, but not spiteful. They did not speak, just looked at us, and I looked shamelessly back.

My brother spoke first. "I thank you kindly for your services. My life is in your dept." Still his eyes stayed on the ground.

"Humble, and formal, words for one such as yourself," mused Halbarad. At this Malkemen looked up tentatively. Suddenly Halbarad became strict, not unlike a father trying to find the truth between two sons when their stories contradicted. "Why are you stealing when you knew if caught you would be killed?"

Malkemen's eyes shot straight down again. "I had to, sir. We had no food, and could not find work. There was no natural food we could scavenge for and we haven't eaten for two days. I was risking death cause that was better then simply accepting it."

I was watching the elves. They were so beautiful; how was it possible that their hair was blowing gracefully in the wind while mine, Malkemen's and Halbarad's were constantly prone to wipe it away from our eyes? But they seemed unaware of my staring eyes, for both were staring at the sea behind us, as though it were the most wondrous thing they had ever seen. I found this quite stupid; having lived all of my life near the sea, and more recently practically on top of it, I found it to be no interesting sight. Why did they stare so? Hadn't they seen it before? Why did they not stare at the grass or the distant mountains, instead?

Meanwhile, the conversation continued over my head. "That's a nice dagger." Halbarad commented.

Malkemen tensed up. "I didn't steal it. We only steal food when we have to, never anything else. This was my fathers, and I'm not foolish enough to steal something like that and go around wearing it, anyways."

He shrugged. "I was just wondering why you didn't use it."

Malkemen spoke slowly, as though making sure his answers were perfect and he didn't mess up. I found this odd, as he always spoke quickly and readily to me. "Well, I guess there's always a chance of escape, and I don't want to use it until the last moment, so they don't have more reasons to come after me later."

"Hmmmmmmm….Look up at me, boy," Halbarad ordered kindly. Malkemen looked back up. "How old are you, and what be your name? How did you come to be so hated by the villagers?"

My brave brother inhaled slightly. "My name is Malkemen, though many villagers would tell you it is simply Mal. This coming summer will be my eighth. This is Kinya, my sister, just as crudely known as Ya, and lived her forth year this winter. Our mother died two years ago, and no one would help after. They didn't like her very much. We've been living here on the cliff face ever since. The villagers don't like us very much, either," he finished somewhat obviously.

Halbarad turned to the other two, who were oblivious to the whole interaction. Halbarad looked at the uninteresting sea for a moment, then back at them. Tapping each on the shoulder, he jerked them out of their trance, and they had a hurried conversation (with many glances stolen at the surging waves). After several nods in our direction, Halbarad grimly continued.

"My name is Halbarad, and these are my companions, Elladar and Elrohir. I am a Ranger of the North, and they are the sons of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. We wish to be of further service to you. I ask that you try and cooperate as much as you can. Now where is…. where do you sleep?"

Malkemen looked at me briefly, as though the answer were in my face. I shrugged, hoping that would be significant enough. Silently, he made his way down the rocks toward the cave. I followed him like an unacknowledged shadow, my bare callused feet no longer sliding on the rocks after seasons of practice. They followed silently behind us, their daunting presence causing a million questions in my mind. Through it all, I could not help but notice how the nimble the Ranger seemed on the rocks, when he seemed so big. However, his antics were nothing compared to the elves; they seemed to have lived on such rocks their entire life for the swiftness of their step and sureness of their stride.

I swung into the cave, and settled in a corner, hugging Nima to my chest. I realized that I'd never seen anyone else in the cave before, and the thought of grown men coming into our one secret place frightened me.

Our dwelling was fairly small, built into the cliffs of the sea by means far greater then my comprehension. There were so few necessities laying about that one walking in might not know someone inhabited this place at a first glance. There were the three meager blankets we had scavenged from our own home, a few make shift eating utensils made from sea shells, stones and bark, and there was a water jug my brother had earned while helping with the harvest. Other then that, the cave was empty.

Halbarad took a look around, the elves following suit. I was still amazed by them; how they moved, their fairness of face, their experience in this treacherous territory. I caught all three sneak quick glances at my brother, but only Halbarad even glanced at me. The elves avoided me, but I watched as they consulted one another and sized up whatever unfathomable situation they were in. Then something changed. Quite suddenly…

The two elves are standing on a dock, awaiting several others; one, their father? How do I know that? One, their father, also an elf, the second, husband and wife, both with long bleached hair that creeps about their forms, their elegant figures standing perfectly straight with the slightest effort. The man is something to behold, but the woman's beauty and grace is that of a goddess. All stand watching the shore, awaiting someone…but who? An old man appears, dressed in white and baring a staff. A quiet looking young woman follows him, dressed in similar robes of green. Behind them several strange people follow, and although they all, especially one in particular, looks old, they couldn't have been much taller then Malkemen was now. How odd…

The light shifted, and they and their father are there once again, this time with another elf; a woman, their sister. She has a far off look about her, as though her mind is drifting in the leaves that lay scattered on the ground. The men are discussing something, but what I could not hear, and their expressions yield only unpleasantness. The woman simply watches, playing with her dark hair as her father and brothers frantically plan as though the end of the world is coming…

The light shifted again, then all but died. I saw Elladan and Elrohir once again, their fair faces dark from shadows of the overwhelming forest that haunts the background. They are standing over a figure that is bloody and broken. A child, a boy. His wrangled arms and legs lay askew in the mud and his wet hair limply covers his features. Another man, Halbarad, is crouching over the figure, attending to his wounds. I wondered who it was, until it is made necessary that Halbarad shift his head, and I saw his face…

I screamed. Malkemen was already at my side, his hands on my cheekbones. I clung to him, sobbing, "Don't go, Mahkemn, don't go!" He tried to soothe me, resting me on his lap.

"Don't go where, little sister?" He whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
"With them, with them. Yo-yo-yo-yo-you will die." My sobbing continued more strongly after these words. The clank of Halbarad dropping a seashell we used as a cup reminded us of their presence.

He was looking at me, along with the other two elves, I noticed. His features were pure fear and amazement. "What-what is that?"

I snuggled in closer to Malkemen, liking their avoidance better then their attention. He answered for me, looking down once again. "We don't know. It's been there for many seasons now. She just sees things, people doing things. Her eyes flash, and she just goes….she has no control of it at all. The villagers think she is being taken by devils."

They were still staring at me. My sobs had quieted, but my limbs continued to shake.

Halbarad knelt down beside me, his face right in front of mine so I could not evade him. I still managed fairly well, for a short time. "Child," He said surprisingly gently, "what did you see?"

I pointed of at the elves. "Them," I whispered, "going on a boat with others. And them with their father and sister, talking about war, and then you too, trying to…to…to…" I was so scared. Why wouldn't they go away? Were they going to kill my brother? Was it their fault? They must leave! "Go go go go go go go go!" I murmured over and over.

Halbarad held my face in his hands, and Malkemen softly tightened his grip on me to acknowledge his ever presence. "What were we trying to do, child? You have nothing to fear from us. We will try and help, if we can."

"Yo-you were standing over Mahkemn in a forest. He was dying, and you were tr-trying to save him but you couldn't. An-and he was wet and hurt and you couldn't do anything!" I was crying so uncontrollably that Malkemen lightly pulled me out of Halbarad's reach.

He sat back, hunched over as he silently thought about his current situation. I continued to sob, wrapping Malkemen around myself. After several minutes, Elladan spoke.

"Our father has the gift of foresight. That is not it. I have not seen such a thing before, but it is nothing like what our father has. His does not come in flashes…it is long, like a trance. She seems to see just a picture, for a split second. And I've never heard of it being shown with a flash in the eyes."

Halbarad sighed; he had not moved through this pronouncement. That elf I had seen, it was their father? He could see into the future? Maybe he knew of me, of what I had…

"Boy." Halbarad said suddenly, breaking my train of thought, "Malkemen. I have a proposition for you. You must hear me out before you make any rash decisions. It is probably no shock to realize this is not the ideal place for children such as yourselves to grow up. You need a more dependable source of food, warmth and love. This we may be able to supply for you both, though your paths may be different. No-wait, let me finish. Your sister, she-well, first of all, she is young, and she is a female. And she also has this odd…thing… that would not go over well with many people. I have seen many odd things in my life, but this…

"We could find a safe home for her, away from people such as your townsfolk who would care for her, despite her eccentricities. You, however, could not stay in some foster home as she could. Your path would be much different. How would you like to travel with us, and perhaps learn from us, travel with us? Of course, it is very possible you may find a trade you enjoy, and a master to teach you it. Either way, you both are safe and happy, which is much more then this hole can offer you."

We sat, looking silently at him. If possible, I was clutching to Malkemen even tighter then before. He was going to leave me, go away forever. He couldn't, yet this was something I knew he wanted, somehow, I knew he just wanted to forget about me, forget about responsibilities and be a boy, instead of having to be a man because he understood the difference. "Mahkemn, Mahkemn.." I murmured.

"Shhhhh," he soothed, "all is well, dear sister." He looked back up at Halbarad, who sat observing us quietly. "Thank you, but I must reject your kind offer. But we will not part. I cannot trust anyone, not with what I have seen of human beings. I could not leave her with someone. I'm all she has."

"Yes, but we could give her-" Halbarad stopped, shaking his head. "I can tell a lot about people in a short amount of time. I think I knew you would refuse. Alas, I also cannot bear to see children such as you suffer.."

I glanced at Halbarad, and noticed he had a wide but shallow scar on the lower side of his face and most of his neck. Putting the pieces together, I realized where I'd seen him beforehand. The demons had shown him to me…this man had had a daughter, who was sick and had died. He'd watched her die, and then in frustration afterwards had taken a knife and jabbed himself with it. "You had a child, didn't you? But she died. It was very sad." I ended regretfully. Amazed at my revelation, I reached out and gently touched to scar.

A shadow crept over his face and he jerked away violently. I realized he probably didn't want to be reminded of the incident.

"Yes," he said simply.

"We must leave soon, Halbarad." Elrohir cut in, staring of into the waves. "The sun moves quickly, and does not change to our want."

"Yes," he sighed again. He glanced down at my brother. "Farewell, child. May the tides be kind to you. I wish you much luck." Malkemen nodded, and Halbarad strode swiftly away to the edge of the cave. Before he left it, he continued, "We travel south down the shore. If you change your mind, that will be our path. Oh, and this might help for the time being." A sac of food materialized from his bodice into his hands before being dropped on the ground. He then continued out. Elladan and Elrohir waited for him to pass, nodded gravely at my brother, taking great care to ignore my presence, and followed him. And as unobtrusively as they had first come, they were gone.

I got up slowly, working the pins and needles out of my cramped legs. As soon as I had relieved Malkemen of my weight, he jumped up, grabbed a pebble from the ground, and threw it into the sea. I'd never seen a rock fly so far in my entire life.