It had been no less than 5 minutes since Käleea had been left semi-alone. Her mistress, Sérathen, had gone to relieve herself nearby, whilst the young girl took the brief opportunity to indulge upon the pastime she rarely had the chance to partake in. Reading. Though no sooner has she begun, it seemed, than the precious interlude was cut short.
"Oi! What you doin'! Put that non-sense away this instant! Honestly, the only reason people loo' at these bloody group of words is because they ain't smart enough ta imagine things themselves! Common, ge'tup!" Sérathen demanded as she snatched the bag...the bag containing the ever important parcel... by Käleea's legs and began to remount her horse.
"Yes, my Lady. Of course." Käleea replied hastily while planting the novel back into her own knapsack. Thankfully, Sérathen had not asked where the girl had acquired the book, for that certainly would have brought out a more aggressive reaction from the elder woman.
It was merely a few hours until dusk when Käleea put on her bag and the two females set off to continue their mission. Sérathen was determined to cover at least one more league before the blanket of darkness hindered their path, but that was indeed easy for her as she simply sat atop the sluggishly trotting stallion whilst the adolescent girl struggled to keep pace on foot. Käleea's modest exhaustion was not so much caused from the lengthy passage, but the weight of the knapsack itself. Yet each time she thought about abandoning the entire duty, it seemed as if someone or sometTHING was persuading her...urging her to go on against her will. It was that peculiar aspect that made her anxiety grow. She subsequently realized that the only object that could have swayed her mind and body in such a way must have been that of the mysterious article, tucked away on Sérathen's horse. The same article that they were going to allow Wullgam to utilize secretly.
"It must be an item of sheer devilry." Käleea thought... and at that moment, she decided it could not be transported to Wullgams; it WOULD not. She began assessing a plan that she could carry out before the end of their journey, fully noting it would probably take all her will to complete. Though, the servant was determined to see that item...that monstrosity... was out of harms way, whether it cost the young girl everything or not.
"Their pace has quickened." Aragorn stressed as he lay upon the unyielding rock and pressed his ear towards the earth, as to catch the reverberation of footsteps. "They must have caught our scent. Hurry!"
The Ranger forced himself off of the land and began to resume his tracking, whilst his two comrades faithfully trailed behind.
"Come on, Gimli!" Legolas's deep tone urged as he glanced back to observe his companion.
"Three days and nights pursuit. No food, no rest. And no sign of our quarry, but what bare rock can tell." The fully bearded Dwarf huffed wearily and began to support himself upon his trusty axe. Covered in traditional Dwarven armour, the male's physical appearance seemed short and stocky...though his spirit was anything but. "Let us go on. My legs must forget the miles. They would however be more willing, if my heart was less heavy."
The three pursuers had relentlessly been tracking the whereabouts of their two imprisoned companions since Amon Hen. It had been a difficult hardship with many adversaries, but no one was going to give up on the Halflings. As they began to enter the enclosure of a rock escarpment, Aragorn halted abruptly and knelt down to raise a trinket out from the liquid dirt. The petite item's edges glistened in the daylight as the human recognized its beech-tree leaf shape.
"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall," he explained sombrely. "This did not drop by chance."
"They may yet be alive." The Elf paused and reassured Aragorn. "We do not search in vain."
"Less than a day ahead of us. Come!" The Ranger agreed and sustained his expedition, not even fleeting a look back to check on the fatigued Dwarf. Though, Legolas did, just in time to witness the stout being stumble down a slight embankment.
"Come, Gimli! We are gaining on them!" The Elf cried and resumed his subtle lead over the shorter male.
"I'm wasted on cross-country." He replied as he got back to his throbbing feet. "We Dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances."
As the warriors came out from a sizable rock crevice, they noted that the sun was gradually being sheltered as clouds tinted their way across the late afternoon sky. The trio came atop a large hill and paused to gaze across a dry Plain.
"Rohan. Home of the horse-lords." The Dúnedain explained as he looked out over the thousands of irregularly dispersed rocks. His elevated body stood rigid as his moist brown locks and cerulean grey eyes stayed completely motionless. Indeed his attire suggested he was a man of immense travel, but a certain noble facade could not be hidden away. "There's something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures; sets its will against us." The Elf companion seemed to concur as he began to progress slightly ahead of the Human and Dwarf, inspecting the area that now lay before them. "Legolas! What do your Elf-eyes see?"
"The Uruks turn Northeast." He replied firmly as shadows reached around the figures of boulders that lay carelessly within the Plain. "They are taking the Hobbits to Isengard!"
"Saruman." Aragorn hissed as he contemplated how much distance still needed to be covered to pull alongside the vile creatures.
"Though...objects much closer appear to move across the land," Legolas suddenly interrupted as his features slightly illuminated in the blunt sunrays. The Elf's fair skin and flaxen hair remained just as captivating as the vividness in his eyes, whilst his lean and lengthy appearance adorned attire of the Silvan elves of Mirkwood, made chiefly of monotonous greens and browns. "Do you see?"
"Nay, Legolas. Not even my eyes can see that far." The Ranger replied gingerly as he leapt across several boulder fissures to approach his loyal friend.
"What is it then, lad?" Gimli bellowed breathlessly as he leaned his drained body alongside his walking axe. "Speak up!"
"A rider it appears, with a younger companion trailing alongside." Legolas clarified. "Though, I can say no more of what type of human they be, except the steed they accompany is certainly not one of the Rohirrim's... and their attire is outlandish indeed! Two feminine garbs adorn the lone fleeing folk!"
"Two lassies unattended? That surely is an unnerving sight...though we should not pay heed to their dealings. The hours of darkness fall shortly and we have much ground to cover. Come!" Gimli urged as he leapt slightly off the rocks and began to jog ahead.
"What shall we do?" Legolas calmly questioned the Ranger as both stared absent mindedly at the fleeting Dwarf.
"For the moment, nothing. Our road is fixed upon Isengard and rescuing Merry and Pippin." He sighed then, grasping reality. "Although, we will undoubtedly reach them upon dusk. Perhaps...perhaps then we will inquire as to their peculiar situation."
There was a cool chill on the air as Sérathen decided it was time to halt. The nightshade was closing on them at a brisk pace and the moon had not performed its duty of slightly illuminating the black sky and risky terrain.
"Go on, girl! By the time of me return, I wants everything ready ta serve me hunger and slumber. Understood? Watch the package!" Sérathen hissed as took off to relieve herself before even waiting for the young girl to respond. It made sense that Sérathen went more often than Käleea, since she was the one sneaking and transporting water upon her saddle. In contrast, a mistake the two Woses made was to allow the servant girl to be responsible for the food. Käleea believed two could participate in the same antic her mistress was playing, so almost every time the woman took off, the girl cunningly indulged in the rations...however, she was intelligent enough to seize equal portions from each of the two food parcels in her bag, so as to not lead Sérathen on.
"Yes, milady." Käleea whispered as she unsaddled her mistress's horse and prepared to make camp within a rough circle of rocks nearby. The grass was parched and ashen as she laid the blanket rolls, water skins, and shoulder bag containing the unknown package, out atop the land. She then knelt down to set out a simple meal, being wholly aware that a fire would not be made as it could give their location away to unfriendly eyes. "What to prepare?" She pondered as she removed the sack from her back and rummaged cautiously though it. "Ah! Well enough for this night." Käleea replied to herself as she took out two unequal servings of fairly stale bread and curd...the larger portion going to Sérathen, of course! The girl shook her head slightly and sighed at her cleaver behaviour, for who would know of her prior disobedience if she kept covering up her actions this cunningly.
"Oi, you! Ge' me some water ready as well! Go on!" Sérathen shouted from a distance and interrupted Käleea's thoughts.
"How could I have forgotten that?" The servant thought sarcastically and began to crawl over to the water skins without glancing up. As she did so, her knees accidentally knocked over Sérathen's shoulder bag and out fell...two slender daggers. They were not of Wildman orientation, but purely those Wulf had brought home long ago. Where they were from, she did not know, though they certainly were more beautiful and tantalizing than some she had seen and read about. Käleea inattentively trailed her trim, soiled fingers along one of the stunning scabbards, and bit her delicate lip in response to her actions. Not wanting to be shrieked at, she unwillingly picked up the pair of protective weapons and placed them firmly back in Sérathen's bag...next to the package.
Since the initial thought of hiding the parcel, the girl had semi-devised a plan to carry out, with several kinks still to smooth. Though, she knew there were still many days of travel ahead, so the preparation should not be carelessly rushed.
"My, I'm 'ungery! You better be ready over there!" Sérathen bellowed as loud footsteps could be heard coming back in the girl's direction. Käleea subsequently positioned her mistress's bag back in its remote place and resumed distributing the meal.
"It is, milady." Käleea replied and swung her head around to check the whereabouts of the elder female. She confirmed that she had enough time to finish, just as flecks of her seemingly striking hair fell to frame the sides her face. "Will you never stay in the place I put you?" Probing to herself, she began to run her fingers over her once gleaming blonde, sunkissed hair. It now looked like a mangled bird's nest, so she removed the leather strip and redid it in the same fashion she had for the past few days. Käleea was not one for fashion, as she had never had the need to experience it. She also knew that the style wasn't elegant...but it kept the unruly locks out of her way.
"Well, no fire?" The woman cried as she entered the camp and Käleea stood in respect.
"No, my appologies. Such a thing could give our whereabouts away t-" Käleea tried to explain before being interrupted by an already distraught Sérathen.
"Nevermind, just give me your bedroll ta keep warm and be gone with ya. I need my space!"
"Very well. Fairwell, Mistress." She replied while walking away to eat and guard the bags, as she had every night of this journey. Her tired body carefully collapsed a good 25 feet away from Sérathen, and she began to silently consume her meal. Käleea's intense, sky blue eyes glided over many items in the camp, but it seemed the attention was constantly returning back to her caretaker's bag.
Forcefully removing her sight from the unknown package, Käleea looked down upon her stature and noticed that her beige peasant dress and emerald shaded overlay had been torn in several places from all the access running and obstacles. It was unusual that she was doing this duty in such garb in the first place, but Käleea owned only labour attire; none of which were trousers.
"They are meant for the males anyway, girl! Tha'tis not your place!" She remembered Wulf telling her firmly one day.
"Curse him. Curse them both." Käleea whispered as she finished her meal and squeezed her eyes completely shut. "And curse myself for losing the courage to escape from it all."
"We have come to a hard choice." Aragorn stated as he and his companions stopped on the dimming Plain. "Shall we rest by night, or shall we go on while our will and strength hold?"
"From what my eyes can see, the Uruks have halted their march. Although, not even my sight can foresee their certainty of staying in the same position during these hours of darkness." Legolas stated uneasily. "The shadows blind my view of our trail, but it is possible to proceed."
"Bah! Even I, Dwarf of many journeys, cannot run all the way to Isengard without any pause." Gimli inputted. "My heart burns me too, but now I must rest a little to run the better. And if we rest, then the blind night is the time to do so."
"Very well," the Ranger replied at length, with obvious heed in his spirit. "We will not continue to walk in the dark. The peril of missing signs of the Hobbits seems to me the greater. If the moon gave enough light we would use it, but he is young and pale."
"My heart bids me to go on," said a reluctant Legolas. "But we must hold together. I will follow your council."
"Then we shall approach the camp of the wandering travellers. After we are certain they are friend and not foe, we will rest. They may even be kind enough to offer us provisions." Aragorn hoped as he was interrupted by a beaming Dwarf.
"Aye, now! That is the best thought you've said all day, lad! Though, I doubt their generosity could rival that of the Dwarves." He gambled as his companions looked over to him and softly smiled before resuming their last leg of the night.
"Wake up ya stupid wench! The horse is gone!" Sérathen shouted as she shook Käleea awake. "Now look what you've done!"
"Wha-Oh no..." In shock, Käleea struggled to speak as she noted she had forgotten to tie up the stallion. "My apologies, my Lady! I will search for him now!"
"You should not have disobeyed me orders." The woman said firmly. She then proceeded to hold Käleea down while ripping off half of the bottom portion of the young girl's skirt.
"Na-no..." Käleea nervously looked downwards to see her forest green travelling boots and the majority of her taupe leggings now visible...then her body became numb and her stunned eyes widened.
"But you will never have the chance ta do it again!" Sérathen pitched as she began using the material to wrap around the adolescence's neck.
"Wha-" Käleea muffled as she was in complete disbelief and denial over the situation. When the atmosphere struggled to enter her constricting lungs, her reflexes suddenly stopped fighting back and her gazed turned to stone. She surely could have given Sérathen an intense fight, as from many years of hard labour, her strength would certainly have rivalled that of the elder woman. Though, this would be an easy way out, to be free of this pain and torment of a life. But did she truly want that? Did she truly want give up her life...without a fight?
While she laid there in disbelief, agony, and torment, the women took a final shot at Käleea's defeated position, kneeing her with massive power several times in her right leg. Sérathen suddenly stopped her strangling motion, as she swiftly got to her feet and stared out into the distance of camp. It was at that moment Käleea brought her limbs into her chest, shut her sapphire eyes tightly, and tried to gasp for the air she now desperately needed.
Apprehensive yet thankful for the diversion that captivated Sérathen's attention, Käleea squirmed moments later to try and remove herself from the situation. She gingerly grasped the side of her pulsating throat and began to stand when Sérathen's voice took a drastic octave downward.
"Ge' rid of the map." Sérathen whispered as she shrewdly made her way over to her shoulder bag...and the daggers, without glancing back to the girl.
"Valar." Käleea whispered as her vision cleared enough to make out what Sérathen was transfixed upon. It appeared to be that of four shadowed figures, materializing and approaching within metres of their camp.
"And not a word." Sérathen threatened. "Not one word…"
Just a quick shout out to all the reviewers! THANX so much, it means a lot! I was completely in awe and shock after reading them! Scout's Honour
Ellmarr, Leah1001, mellon18, LadyLossehelin, youbow2noone, shakespearette (I know! I noticed that too and I apologize! I will most definitely take that into consideration now, but warning it'll probably take me a few tries to get out of that habit! Just remind me! LOL) and Vanima Bliss!
Thanx again! I appreciated the encouragement!