Karri: After I posted Chapter 3, I realized I had left off my response to your review of Chapter 2. So here it is. Unfortunately, Anomen is in for some more pain. It would spoil the suspense, however, if I specified how much, so I won't. Mwah hah hah.
Dragonfly: It just so happens that this chapter will show Elrond's reaction!
Blessing of Earendil: I'm glad you enjoyed the disclaimer! Are you familiar with Car Talk, the radio show that features "Click and Clack, the Tappit Brothers"? The name of the 'law firm' came from their 'credits', which I think are meant to be spoofs of similar 'credits' at the end of Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion. So I guess you could say I did a spoof of a spoof of a spoof. Spoof. Spoofier. Spoofiest. He he. Ai! I cannot claim to be as clever at problem-solving as Anomen is. I'm sort of in the situation of the person who, well after a conversation, thinks up the lines that she wishes she had said.
Joee: The story about leprechauns and their mounds, in which time passes at a different rate than in the outside world, is 'true', i.e., is indeed part of traditional lore about leprechauns.
Legosgurl: Hope you still have a job! Your sister sounds cute, what with her 'elfikins'. Of course, you have to deal with her on a day-by-day basis, so you may not agree!
Tara: If he makes it all the way to Cirith Ungol, he may be in big trouble.
Beta Reader: Dragonfly.
Number Nine: Chapter 4
Elrond stared bemused at the ragged little band of humans who stood respectfully before him. The Man who led them was carefully explaining how they came to present themselves before the Lord of Imladris.
"And then the little master," the Man was saying, "told us to first go to Rivendell, for we would need a guide, and the lord of that place could furnish one. And he told us to particularly ask for introductions to the Rangers, for it would be needful to stay on good terms with those folk."
The Man paused and looked hopefully at Elrond, whose eyebrows, as Waerburh would have said, had been 'dancing' earlier in the recitation but had now quieted as Elrond put on his impassive face.
"Of course we will aid you," Elrond said calmly. "Anomen spoke truly. There is indeed fertile land to the north that would repay the tilling. The Rangers will not object to your taking possession of it, for they are no farmers. Indeed, doubtless they will be glad to chaffer with you. There may be more than a few Rangers who would welcome the chance to trade for a dish that was not prepared over the spit of a campfire."
"I know how to bake bread," Waerburh interrupted, earning her a disapproving look from her father but a smile from Elrond.
"Bread? Excellent. 'Twould be a rare Ranger indeed who bore an oven on his back, so bread is something they do not taste often. Tell me, can you sew as well?"
"Oh, yes," said Waerburh eagerly. "And I can spin and weave and knit."
"Ah, that is good. When a Ranger has need of a new cloak, he will know to whom he should repair."
Waerburh's face fell.
"I had forgotten, my Lord. Our sheep were stolen not so long ago. 'Twas a small flock, but it gave us enough wool for trade."
Elrond looked grave.
"Stolen? That is too bad. But if, as you say, you can sew, you may be able to remedy your loss. I have need of a new tunic—yes, and new leggings and a new cloak. If you can devise such garments, I will of course pay you for your time. Your father may then journey to Bree-land and with your winnings purchase a new flock."
Leofwine spoke up then, for he was anxious lest they presume on the kindness of the Elves.
"Thank you, my Lord, but we have the wherewithal with which to buy sheep. It is Anomen who has made sure of that."
Elrond's eyebrows sprang back into action. How could the elfling have provided the family with the wealth they would need for a new flock? As far as anyone knew, Anomen had run away with little more than the clothes on his back.
"A thief tried to make off with Waerburh's dowry," Leofwine explained. "Anomen crept up behind him and knocked him on the head with a spade. When the thief awoke, he found himself in the company of me and my eldest boys. He bought his way out of a beating, and so Waerburh's dowry is all the larger!"
"But that wealth is a guarantee against Waerburh's future," replied Elrond. "It would be a pity if you spent it unnecessarily. Let Waerburh use her talent as a seamstress to earn the money for the new flock."
"Thank you, my Lord," said Leofwine gratefully. "If you are sure."
"I am," said Elrond.
"Then I'll not deny that 'twould be good if we could put the money aside."
"Then do so. But now you must allow my servants to lead you to your rooms and provide you with whatever is needful for your comfort."
When the humans had departed the chamber, Erestor rounded on Elrond, his expression one of horror.
"Elrond! Surely you cannot be planning to wear garments stitched by a, a, a—human!"
"I am," Elrond replied calmly.
"Elrond, such clothes would hardly be suitable for one of your stature."
"Do you doubt the child's ability to measure my height?"
"I don't mean that stature, and you know it. I am referring to your status, your authority."
"Erestor, next month a delegation from Rohan will arrive. Don't you think it would be a nice touch if I were to greet them garbed in the garments of Men?"
"Well, if you only mean to wear them in front of Men," Erestor grumbled before stalking off to see to Elladan and Elrohir's morning lessons. When he had left, Elrond leaned back in his chair and sighed as he addressed, Taurmeldir, one of Glorfindel's lieutenants.
"Whatever will Anomen come up with next? Resettling Dunland refugees to the north! Wherever did he get such a notion?"
"Not from me," replied Taurmeldir, "but I would be proud if I could in fact lay claim to the idea. It will be good to have a friendly settlement to the north. It has always troubled Glorfindel that only a few Rangers dwell in that place. Valiant as they are, they could be overrun. If the land were settled more thickly, the risk would be reduced."
Elrond considered.
"I do believe that Glorfindel is right, Taurmeldir."
"Of course he is right," Taurmeldir said with a cheekiness that would have done the balrog-slayer proud, "as he always is when it comes to matters either tactical or strategic."
"Besides," the lieutenant added as he made for the door, "we may be able to procure fresher eggs from such a settlement. The ones from Bree-land must travel too far a distance. That is Glorfindel's opinion, too," he added.
Elrond clapped his hand to his forehead to secure his eyebrows. Ai! His trials that day were not yet over. Later, after the evening meal, he summoned the Dunlendings back to his chamber, for he wished to inquire more closely into Anomen's welfare.
"So the elfling stayed with you but one night?" he said to Leofwine.
"Yes, my Lord. He would have been welcome to remain in our company, but he would not."
"Did he say where he was going?"
"Not to me, but I believe"—here Leofwine turned toward Waerburh—"I believe that he may have told my daughter."
Elrond looked at Waerburh.
"Did he tell you aught of his plans?"
"Yes," Waerburh said simply. Elrond waited for her to say more, but she remained silent. A smile quirked Elrond's lips. He rather thought he knew why the child was so reticent. 'No doubt', he said to himself, 'Anomen has made her promise to say no more than necessary'. Elrond tried again.
"Where did he say he was going?"
"South."
"Did he say why he was going south?"
"Errand."
"Ah, I see. And what was this errand? Precisely, if you please," Elrond added quickly.
"Help a friend."
"Did he mention the name of this friend?"
A triumphant smile spread over Waerburh's face.
"No," she said cheerfully.
Elrond suppressed his own smile in order to pursue his inquiry, but he found it difficult. Behind Elrond Taurmeldir shook silently with laughter. Even Erestor had to suppress a smile.
"When you parted, was he well?"
Waerburh squirmed uncomfortably.
"My Lord, he had had somewhat to eat that morning and the night before, and he had enough food for a few days' more."
"But was he well?" persisted Elrond.
"Could have been better, could have been worse."
Fearful lest her daughter offend the lord with her equivocations, Modthryth decided it was time to speak up.
"My Lord, if I may speak as a mother, I thought he looked poorly. Aye, and he clutched at his arm as if it pained him, but he would not let me tend to it."
"A mother's word in a matter such as this is to be respected," said Elrond gravely. "In what way would you say he looked poorly?"
"He was very pale, even for an Elf, and he had dark rings under his eyes. I deem him to have been worn out either by exhaustion or pain, mayhap both."
Elrond exchanged a worried glance with Elrohir.
"I hope," said the tutor, "that Glorfindel catches up with him quickly. Perchance the scouts follow hard on his heels."
Elrond turned back to the Dunlendings.
"Did a company of Elves pass by heading south soon after the elfling departed your company?"
"No, my Lord," answered Leofwine, "but a company passed by soon before his arrival."
"Before his arrival?" exclaimed Elrond. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, my Lord. They were many, and well armed, so we durst not approach them. But we did trail them until they were well away from our land. They were headed due south. Several hours after their passing, Waerburh encountered the elfling and brought him to our cottage."
Now Elrond and Erestor exchanged bewildered glances. How was it possible that the scouts had journeyed further south than Anomen himself? Glorfindel had taken his best scouts and was a superb tracker in his own right. Yet it would seem that the combined efforts of the balrog-slayer and his scouts had not sufficed.
"That little fellow," observed Erestor with grudging admiration, "is certainly remarkably good at whatever he sets his mind to. It is, of course, a pity that the thing he generally does set his mind to is driving the adults to distraction."
Chagrined, Elrond nodded. After he had dismissed the Dunlendings, however, a sudden thought struck him.
"Hah! We have him now!"
"What?" asked Erestor, puzzled by his outburst.
"Anomen is no doubt aware that Glorfindel is ahead of him. That means that he will not be so careful at covering his tracks. Tomorrow I shall send out another company, and I am sure they will be able to retrieve our elfling in short order by coming up on him from behind. He will not be able to escape, for he shall be trapped between two patrols."
Erestor shook his head doubtfully.
"I think you underestimate his abilities."
"Clever as he is, he is still only an elfling, and, judging from what the Dunlendings have told us, a weak and weary one at that."
At that very moment, this weak and weary elfling was doggedly trudging southward in the wake of Glorfindel and his scouts. He was about to face a decision, however, and a difficult one. After parting from Waerburh and her family, he had hastened to catch up to Glorfindel, still believing as he did that staying in the vicinity of the patrol would help guarantee his safety. Now, in determined pursuit of the elven warriors, he was passing through the Gap of Rohan. It seemed by the signs, however, that Glorfindel had decided to turn north, into Fangorn Forest.
'They must be making for Isengard', Anomen thought. 'They would have no other reason to enter that forest'.
Anomen was right. Having reached the Gap of Rohan without finding any sign of the elfling, a perplexed Glorfindel had given thought as to what he ought to do next.
'Mithrandir visits Isengard from time to time', he mused. 'Perhaps he has gone there. As Anomen is attempting to follow Mithrandir, he could be expected to go to Isengard as well. Even if neither is there, however, perhaps Saruman could advise me. He is reputed to be able to see far. Some say that his gaze extends throughout Middle-earth."
And so the elven patrol was wending its way to Isengard, and Anomen had to decide whether to follow; to await their return and resume trailing them, as he hoped, southward; or to continue on his own without delay. He took several tentative steps north, into Fangorn Forest. The pain in his arm eased. He would be going in the wrong direction. He stopped and considered. Since he would be going in the wrong direction, he would gain nothing by following Glorfindel. At the very least, if he were not to immediately go on alone, he should marshal his strength whilst awaiting the Glorfindel's return. But should he wait in the first place?
'It may very well be', mused Anomen, 'that Glorfindel will in fact turn north after leaving Isengard. Then my wait for him will have been entirely fruitless! But let us assume that he will continue south. All very well and good, but I should still lose much time dallying here. Mithrandir needs help now—I am sure of it!'
Without a moment's more delay, Anomen turned his face to the south and marched off.
At Isengard, Glorfindel was at that moment being ushered into Saruman's throne room. It always troubled the balrog-slayer that Saruman presided in such state—'Mithrandir would never bother with such nonsense!'—but Glorfindel put aside his dislike of pretentiousness in the interest of finding out all that he could about the fate of both Mithrandir and Anomen.
"My Lord," he said respectfully, bowing deeply, "I come in need of such counsel as only the White Wizard could provide."
This sort of stuff, Glorfindel suspected, would be just the thing to win over Saruman and induce him to lend his aid.
Glorfindel had judged rightly. Saruman's eyes glittered as he gazed gloatingly upon the balrog-slayer. Glorfindel, of all Elves, was begging for his assistance. Excellent! With an air of condescension, he gestured for Glorfindel to seat himself upon a chair that a servant brought forward.
"As you doubtless know," he pontificated, "I have always been at pains to assist the Eldar of the realm of Imladris."
Glorfindel did not know anything of the sort, but he wasn't about to say so.
"Pray tell me how I may be of service," Saruman continued loftily.
"It seems that one of our elflings feels a peculiarly strong connection with one of your order, Mithrandir the Grey Pilgrim."
"Ah, has Mithrandir had an unfortunate effect upon the young one? You may be sure that I shall impress upon him the harm he may do to the impressionable."
"I do beg your pardon, Lord Saruman. Far be it from me to suggest that any member of your order would have a harmful effect upon the young. I hope I have not offended."
Lord Saruman's smile, always rather strained, became even more forced.
"I am at a loss to know then, my dear Glorfindel, how I may assist you."
"I have of course not explained myself clearly," said Glorfindel smoothly. "The elfling on occasion feels Mithrandir's moods from afar. He has even been susceptible to the same pains and torments as have been suffered by the Grey Pilgrim."
Saruman was skeptical. How could a mere elfling have established such a link with one of the Istari—a lesser Istar, of course, but, still, one of the Order? He expressed his skepticism in icy tones.
"Strange that I have not felt him. I wonder if the elfling's feelings on this matter are clear."
"They are clear, my Lord."
"And where is this elfling?"
"That is why I have sought your help. Feeling sure that Mithrandir is in peril, he has run off in search of him. We have been unable to pick up his trail. You, however, surely know of the whereabouts and doings of the members of your order. If you could tell us where Mithrandir might be, we will hasten toward him. I suspect that along the way we shall overtake and recover our elfling."
Here Glorfindel had hit upon a sore point. Saruman did not know where Gandalf was—he rarely did. This fact rankled, and always had. The other Istari, deferring to Saruman the White, sent to Orthanc frequent reports of their whereabouts and activities. Gandalf had never seen the necessity for that, and only troubled to account for his doings on those occasions when he saw fit to visit Isengard—which was never often enough to satisfy Saruman's desire to know and control all! It suddenly occurred to Saruman that this elfling, if he could truly sense matters pertaining to Mithrandir, might prove to be a way of at last keeping apprised of the goings and comings of Gandalf the Grey. His 'interest' in helping Glorfindel suddenly soared.
"So the poor little fellow has run off into the wild in search of Mithrandir," he said, adopting a sympathetic tone. "Pray tell, what is the name of the young one?"
"Anomen."
Saruman almost choked on the goblet of wine he had so casually raised to his lips. That brat again? Impossible! Recovering himself as best he could, he professed grave concern.
"Anomen? He has been here before. He is quite a little fellow to be roaming Middle-earth, which, as we know, can be a perilous place. And this is not the first time he has slipped away from Imladris. Really, my dear Glorfindel, I do think he needs a more vigilant caretaker."
Now it was Glorfindel's turn to assume an icy manner.
"No matter how heedful, no guardian can watch his charge at all times."
"Then perhaps," retorted Saruman, "the young one should be removed to a place that is not as easy to slip away from, a place encircled by high walls and whose gates are well guarded."
Glorfindel suddenly very much regretted having sought Saruman's aid, for he imagined he knew the place to which the wizard was alluding. The balrog-slayer arose.
"I am sorry for taking so much of your time, Lord Saruman. If you do hear tell of either Mithrandir or Anomen, would you send word to Lord Elrond?"
"Of course," lied Saruman.
As soon as Glorfindel and his Elves had ridden away from Isengard, Saruman pondered what was best to be done.
'I thought the first time I laid eyes on the brat that he may be useful. If he indeed has a link to that grey gadabout, then he would be far more valuable than I dreamed. Now how to lay my hands upon him? Glorfindel's band is tracking him, but apparently with little success. Still, they will have some reason for traveling in whatever direction they take—to the south, apparently. I will send some Orcs to trail after them. If they retrieve their elfling, then my Orcs will relieve them of the trouble of conveying him all the way back to Imladris'.
Saruman found this notion amusing, and his face contorted into something intended to resemble a smile, albeit it had more in common with a leer. Then he resumed his plotting.
'Although Glorfindel may be concentrating his search to the south, it has not escaped the notice of my spies that Mithrandir chooses to meddle much in the land of the rat-folk. If Anomen does indeed have some sort of tie to Mithrandir, and if Mithrandir is on one of his visits to Shire, then the brat may have followed him. I must therefore be sure to send a force to the north as well, in the event that Glorfindel has misjudged his quarry'.
Having laid his plans, Saruman gave the necessary orders, and, well-pleased with his cleverness, he retired for the night.
As for Anomen, he took advantage of a full moon to trudge on for several more hours. The further south he journeyed, the more he was convinced that Gandalf was in danger, and he grudged every moment that he was required to spend resting or foraging for food. Reader, Glorfindel's patrol will have to move very quickly indeed if they are to have any hope of intercepting the elfling before he arrives at Cirith Ungol.
