Legosgurl: Oh, alright. Gandalf can be cute—on occasion. But not when you get his dander up.
Dragonfaeriex: Yes, a wild goose chase! Exactly so!
Karri: So you hope that "the cavalry arrives soon." Hmmm. Maybe 'great minds think alike'.
Dragonfly: Haley Joel Osment is correct. The character he played one the one who said "I see dead people." Although, come to think of it, I think the little girl from Poltergeist does see them as well.
ScarlettPendragon:
I confess 'evil cliffies' are becoming my preferred
way to conclude (or not conclude, as it were!) chapters. Yes, you are right in expecting some "creative
discipline" looming on the horizon for the twins, although not in this chapter
but the next one. Thank you for your
kind words about both this story and the series in general. Of course there is no way of knowing how many
people enjoy these stories, but when a 'lurker' surfaces, it reminds me that they may
have more readers than I know of. And as
Gandalf once said, "That is an encouraging thought."
Beta Reader: Dragonfly
Chapter 11: The Spectacularly Speckled Wizard
Gandalf and his flock of elflings had been racing north for several hours, the company of Orcs in close pursuit. Suddenly Haldir cried, "I hear something—but to the north, not the south."
Gandalf at once called a halt, and all listened intently—save Anomen, of course, for he was still unconscious. Soon they could hear what Haldir had first noticed, and the sound was unmistakable.
"Riders approach from the north," wailed Elladan. "Once again we will be trapped between two bands of foes." Gandalf, however, suddenly smiled.
"Cease your caterwauling, Elladan," he exclaimed, although not unkindly. "When have you ever heard of Orcs mounted upon horses? No, the company that approaches must be made up of either Men or Elves."
Haldir had been listening carefully.
"They are elven horses," he said happily.
Sure enough, cresting a hill were Glorfindel and his company. They galloped at full tilt toward the fugitives.
Unfortunately, Gandalf had forgotten that he still had the helmet on. He was smiling underneath it until he realized that each of the approaching Elves had nocked an arrow, and each arrow was pointed at—him! With his arms full of elfling, he could hardly pull off the helm. Not wishing to peremptorily drop Anomen, the wizard swiftly crouched down to make himself less of a target, and Haldir and the twins, realizing his peril, huddled about the wizard and flung their arms around him.
Of course, Glorfindel thought that the 'Orc' was using Anomen and the others as a shield. "Release the elflings," he shouted. "Relief the elflings or prepare to die a terrible death."
"I am not holding any elflings," Gandalf shouted back. "They are holding me! And I would be very grateful if you would take them off my hands!"
The balrog-slayer had been astonished to encounter not one but four elflings. He was likewise astonished at hearing Gandalf's voice issuing forth from under an orcish helm. However, he hid his amazement well. Calmly he gestured for his scouts to lower their weapons, and then he dismounted. The twins and Haldir stepped back from Gandalf. The wizard laid Anomen, who was now awake, gently upon the ground and then arose and pulled off the helmet. Glorfindel approached the wizard and handed him his sword.
"I am sorry, Mithrandir, that this is not a scimitar. It spoils the effect of your costume I am afraid."
"Ha ha," said Gandalf dryly, hefting his sword gratefully. He was going to need it, and soon. "Glorfindel, Orcs pursue us. Shall we try to outrun them, or would you prefer an ambush? To flee or not to flee, that is the question."
"Oh, an ambush, by all means!"
"Yes, I thought that would be your choice."
The elflings were sent to the rear, the twins and Haldir helping Anomen walk, while Gandalf and the Elves took up positions behind boulders. They concealed themselves none too soon. Here came a fair-sized band of Orcs, marching quick-time. The Elves let the goblins approach until they were well within bowshot, and then Glorfindel gave the signal. A storm of arrows rained down upon the Orcs, and many fell in that first volley. To the Elves' disappointment, however, the survivors at once turned tail and fled. The archers got off a second volley before the goblins could scuttle completely out of bow range; still, several escaped, so both Glorfindel and Gandalf knew that reinforcements would be summoned.
"We had best flee after all," observed Glorfindel. "A larger force will return, and this time we won't be able to take them by surprise."
Two of Glorfindel's smaller scouts doubled up so that Gandalf could have a horse. The wizard took Anomen up before him, and each of the other elflings was similarly bestowed upon a rider. They then began to ride north as quickly as they could, although Glorfindel knew that on the broken ground they could not ride much faster than the Orcs could run. As they were a small band, a search party rather than a war party, they would be in grave danger until they could reach Rohan. Even then their safety might not be assured, for the Orcs might pursue them onto the plain.
The scout bringing up the rear gave a shout, and Glorfindel twisted about in his saddle to look back. He almost gasped in his dismay at the sight that greeted him. Orcs were cresting the summit of a hill behind them, and as he watched, the hill's slope turned black with the armored goblins pouring down it. Swiftly the Elf looked about for a defensible position, but he quickly abandoned the plan. Yonder was a hill upon which they might make a stand, but, although they would be able to hold out for a time, they would be surrounded by a vastly superior course, and they would face an inevitable outcome: death or, worse, capture and torture.
"Noro lim!" shouted Glorfindel to his companions. But the ground at this point was particularly rocky, and their foes on foot could in fact make better time than their horses. The Orcs began to swarm to either side of them, and Glorfindel knew that soon some of the goblins would draw ahead of them. When they came to another hill, Glorfindel now commanded all to dismount save the elflings. Anomen was put on Haldir's horse, for the Lórien elfling was the oldest and largest of the four and perhaps had a chance of keeping a grip upon him. For good measure, Gandalf swiftly tied a rope around Anomen's waist and then looped it around the horse.
"Get your horses into the center of the herd and crouch down," Glorfindel ordered the elflings. They obeyed, and then Glorfindel shouted to the horses that they should make with all speed for Rohan. As the horses broke for the north, the Elves launched volley after volley of arrows at the Orcs to distract them from the steeds, and the goblins, not spying the elflings flattened upon the horses, ignored the animals and concentrated on the older Elves, who, loosing arrows as they ran, were ascending the hill. Soon the horses were out of sight, and Glorfindel turned his attention to holding off the Orcs as long as possible and taking out as many goblins as they could before the end. The Elves formed a circle at the top of the hill, and sheltering behind boulders, they picked off Orc after Orc with their bows. At last, however, they had expended all their arrows, and they drew sword and prepared for the final assault of the Orcs. Gandalf drew his sword as well. Glorfindel noticed that the wizard did not hold the sword in his usual hand, but the balrog-slayer had no time to wonder why. The Orcs drew nearer and nearer, and the Elves could hear their coarse talk, uttered in the Common Speech so that the Elves would know what the goblins had planned for their intended victims. Lesser beings would have blanched at the taunts, but the Elves kept their countenances. All they concentrated on now was bringing down as many Orcs as possible before their own deaths, which they hoped would be honorable, if not swift.
Gandalf looked at his staff, held in his sword hand.
"I might as well use it," he said to Glorfindel, "for doing so will not alert our foes to our presence—it is obvious that they already know we are here! So, although I can't dispense with all these Orcs, at least I can send a few on their way in a spectacular fashion that will be the talk of Mordor for some time to come."
Gandalf cast aside his sword and switched his staff to his good arm. The wizard pointed the rod toward the closest band of goblins and muttered an incantation. With a loud explosion, a ball of flame shot out from the end of the staff and enveloped the Orcs. Shrieking, the few that could still stand fled back down the hill, smoke streaming from their garments, but they were immediately replaced by more Orcs. Gandalf sighed and raised his staff again. Suddenly, not only the Orcs he was pointing at but all the Orcs on the hill turned and fled down the slope. Gandalf chortled a little. His self-satisfaction was soon tempered, however, by the realization that something other than his staff had rattled the Orcs. He heard hoof beats and turned to see the horses returning. To his surprise and joy, they were accompanied by yet more horses—and the riders upon these steeds were not elflings but armed Elves. The fleeing horses had come upon Elrond's company and had led them straightaway to their besieged kinsmen. It was the sudden appearance of this new band of elven warriors that, when combined with the power of Gandalf's staff and the doughtiness of Glorfindel's Elves, had at last unnerved the Orcs so utterly that they had turned tail and fled.
Glorfindel and his company descended the hill and greeted their kinsmen. They did not linger long over this reunion, however.
"The Orcs may return," Glorfindel pointed out. "Frightened though they be, their masters likely will drive them back into the fray."
"Aye," agreed Elrond. "Let us make haste to the north. A little further on, the ground grows less rocky, and we will be able to make good speed to the border of Rohan. There we will find that friends await us."
Gandalf looked about anxiously.
"I do not see the elflings. Did you send them on to these friends?"
"Yes, all of them," replied Elrond, shaking his head in bemusement. "I am very curious," he continued, "as to how one elfling multiplied into four, but I suppose the tale—or tales—will have to wait until we are safely back at Imladris."
With that, all remounted and hastened toward the north. They were wise to have done so. The Orcs' masters were at this very moment shouting and cursing and flailing about with their whips. At last the Orc captains succeeded in forcing the rabble of goblins into something resembling an army, and they moved out, also making for the north.
Elrond had been right: they were not far from ground that was fairly flat, and once they reached it, they broke into a full gallop. Orcs, however, can move quickly at need, and it was not long before the elven scouts, looking back, could descry a dark cloud upon the horizon that swiftly came after them—and that against the wind. The Elves urged their horses on, racing for the border of Rohan, though they feared the Orcs would not shrink from crossing it in pursuit of them. Still, Elrond had said that friends awaited them, so even if the Orcs came after them, perhaps they could hope for aid from these unnamed allies.
The border of Rohan drew near. The Elves galloped over a small rise—and were met by an amazing sight: row after row after row of tents in ordered ranks. Amongst the tents swarmed Men innumerable. It seemed that the Rohirrim captain had more than kept his promise to Elrond: not only he had remained encamped by the border, but he had sent for reinforcements, and the better part of the army of Rohan now awaited them.
The Elves cantered into the camp, making for a tent before which stood a tall pole that bore the pennant of Rohan, a white horse galloping upon a green field. When they reached it, they dismounted, and the Rohirrim Captain came out to greet them.
Elrond bowed deeply to him.
"I see that you are a Man of your word."
The Rider bowed in return.
"As I said before," he replied, "I am only too glad to do what I can for the great Lord Elrond and those of his household."
His smile, Elrond noticed, was a trifle mischievous.
"I see," the Elf Lord continued, "that even now you are hosting some of my kinsmen."
"That is so," said the Captain. He turned and beckoned to Haldir and the twins, who were peeking out from behind the tent flap—Anomen lay sleeping within. The elflings were glad to see their kinsmen safe, of course, but they feared the punishment that they knew would soon be forthcoming. Elrond, however, had other concerns at the moment.
"No, I do not wish to speak to them now, for there is a small matter of an Orc army that pursues us."
"As to that," the Captain replied calmly, "you need have no fear." He gestured past Elrond, and the Elf Lord turned. Behind him the Orcs stood upon the rise, but at that place their progress had halted, for the goblins stared amazed at the force that was arrayed upon the plain. Not even the boldest of their captains was eager to take on the Rohirrim cavalry, and after a few minutes, the goblins retreated, slinking back into the relative safety of their own land—'relative' because they now had to fear retribution for their failure to recapture Gandalf.
The Orcs having vanished, Elrond turned to look again at the tent opening. The elflings, too, had vanished. No doubt they were huddled in various corners of the tent, hidden under bedding and behind boxes. Well, let them hide for the time being, Elrond said to himself. For now he was desirous only of seeing to Anomen, for when he had encountered the elflings upon horseback, he had seen that Haldir had been supporting the younger elfling.
"The smallest of the elflings may be ill or injured; may I enter the tent and examine him?" he asked the Rohirrim Captain.
"Of course. Please consider this tent your own, Lord Elrond, and enter it freely. I shall give orders that no Man shall hinder you at any time."
Elrond gravely thanked him and went into the tent. When he was gone, Gandalf, knowing that Anomen would be looked after, addressed Glorfindel.
"I noticed a water hole as we came onto the plain. I am going back to it."
"Pardon me," interjected the Rohirrim Captain, "but if you are speaking of the one just yonder, I am afraid its water is not potable. You will find a proper water hole to the north of the camp."
"Oh, I don't want to drink it—merely to bathe in it."
"It didn't look very clean," Glorfindel warned. "It was muddy and foul—quite a few dead animals were scattered about it."
"Ah, poisonous—excellent! I must make haste! And, Glorfindel, loan me some garments, will you?"
Puzzled, Glorfindel accompanied the wizard to the water hole, which, as the balrog-slayer had warned, was muddy and stank. Undeterred, Gandalf hastily stripped off his clothes and completely submerged himself beneath the noisome waters.
"Ah," he sighed contentedly when he finally came up for air. "That's done for them."
"Done for what?"
"The fleas and the lice. It is no wonder Orcs are so ill-tempered. I should be if I had to continually share my garments with parasites!"
Gandalf submerged himself several more times before he at last came crawling out of the stagnant water. Glorfindel shook his head and grinned at the sight of him.
"A speckled wizard."
"Speckled?" Gandalf looked down at his body. He was covered with red marks, each one no doubt marking the spot where he had been bitten by either a flea or a louse. "Why, yes, I do look rather as if I were covered by spots!"
"Don't scratch! You'll make matters worse."
Gandalf glared balefully at Glorfindel.
"You try not to scratch when you are as flea-bitten as I am! This sort of thing was not in the job description when I signed on to save Middle-earth."
"Why didn't you use your magic to rid yourself of the pests?"
"Glorfindel, you always hold your sword with its blade pointed away from you, isn't that so?"
"Yes, of course."
"Well, the first rule of wizarding is to never, ever point your staff toward your own person. Some day, when we have time, I shall have to tell you about the occasion when I set my own beard alight."
Glorfindel laughed heartily but suddenly sobered when he realized that Gandalf had been suffering from more than parasites.
"My friend, what is that wound upon your shoulder?"
"Oh," replied Gandalf cheerfully, "as you say, it is a wound upon my shoulder."
"An infected wound upon your shoulder, Mithrandir. You must let me tend it."
Gandalf suddenly grew serious.
"Yes," he said thoughtfully. "I had better let you tend it. More than my comfort may be at stake."
Shrugging off the words of the wizard—Glorfindel was used to his enigmatic utterances—the balrog-slayer was all business, rinsing off the wound with clean water from his water bladder, anointing it with salve, and then wrapping it with strips torn from a reasonably clean corner of his bedroll.
Back at the camp, Elrond had been seeking to soothe a feverish Anomen. The lad had no visible injuries save for the patch of irritated skin over his birthmark. Elrond had bathed the reddened flesh with water into which he had cast athelas leaves, but it seemed to have done little good. Anxiously, Elrond cast about for another treatment. Suddenly, however, Anomen's eyes cleared somewhat, and the elfling felt an easing of the pain that had dogged him for the past several weeks. Elrond laid his hand upon his forehead.
"You feel a bit cooler," he said in relief.
"I'm hungry," announced Anomen, surprising even himself.
"Ah, that's a good sign. Do you think you could manage a bit of lembas bread and a sip of miruvor?"
"Oh, yes," said Anomen eagerly.
With that, Anomen sat up and amazed Elrond both by devouring an entire piece of lembas bread and by draining a vial of miruvor. He would have gladly eaten a second piece of lembas bread, but Elrond stopped him.
"You will make yourself sick, Anomen! One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown Man!"
Now Elrond insisted that Anomen rest. But Anomen began to clamor after Gandalf. Only when Elrond assured him that the wizard was safe did the elfling lie back down and allow himself to slip into a deep sleep untroubled by foul dreams.
Once Anomen was asleep, Elrond arose and looked about him. A suspiciously large lump lay under a blanket. Elrond walked over to it and yanked back the covering. A shamefaced Elrohir looked up at him timidly. For the time being, however, Elrond forbore scolding him.
"Come," he said to his son. "Anomen has eaten, and so should you. Let us see what these Rohirrim contrive by way of meals."
He raised his voice a little.
"You, too, Haldir and Elladan. Let us leave Anomen to his rest."
Haldir came out from behind a chest, and Elladan came out from within one. Then together, Elf and elflings, they left the tent in search of supper. Behind them, Anomen slept on.
