Orcish Revenge
Chapter 11 - Sam's Story (Part 2)
Sam was tired. So tired that he almost fell off his pony several times. The riders had not spoken, at least not to him. He had recently overheard them exchange a few words about the trip; just a few miles to go.
Sam sighed and rested his head against the back of his pony's neck, looking out to the beautiful, snow-topped peaks, they were watching over them and thousands of others, solid and never moving. Never speaking either, Sam found the mountains to share this quality with his current escort.
Something caught his eye and he shot up again, peering over the rising hills, the mysterious figure was there still, moving just as fast as they were.
Sam tried to ignore it, remembering the Elves reaction before. He cursed softly realising that Elrohir could no longer tell him who or what it was that mirrored his journey in the distance. He could only hope that he would find out upon his arrival in Minas Tirith.
He gazed once more at the riders escorting him; tall, silent and glimmering in their silver armour. He looked back at the mountains; tall, silent and glimmering peaks of snow. The warriors of Gondor were truly trained in the style of the glorious mountains that bordered their country.
They came up over a rise and Sam found himself look out at the city, sitting on the mountain's edge, like part of the mountain itself. 'Yet another thing crafted in the mountains image' Sam muttered.
One of the riders signalled for them to stop, muttered a few words to his men, signalled for fifteen to follow and rode off, back the way they had come. Another horse rode up the hill they had just come, a boy upon is back. He rode after the fifteen riders, the look of exhaustion all over his face. Sam watched them ride off, curious as to where they were headed.
Before he could come to any conclusion the remaining seven riders rode on towards Minas Tirith, Sam followed after them.
In a matter of minutes Sam was riding through the gates of the great white city. He looked around in wonder; the city seemed so much brighter and cheerful since the coming of the Fourth Age and King Aragorn.
Sam smiled as he remembered his travels with Aragorn and the other members of the Fellowship. His face turned from happy to sad as he thought of Frodo, he sorely missed his companions.
He sighed and looked around at the cheerful city once more, children were waving to the hobbit and he thought it only polite to wave back. After all, to these children Sam was a hero.
'That's right' he said to himself, 'To them I am a hero, and I must keep that true to them'
'They're not the only ones who think of you as a hero' a familiar voice said.
Sam looked up. His face ignited with joy as he gazed upon the smiling face of Aragorn. Leaping from the pony, Sam wrapped his arms around the King. Aragorn returned the gesture and they walked together along the bustling street discussing the events since Sam had left the shire.
Sometime later they had reached Sam's freshly prepared lodgings and they both sat by the fire, thinking silently of their adventures before the destruction of the ring and the coming of the Fourth Age.
Sam stared into the fire, his thoughts deep. He wanted to ask if the rest had made it to Minas Tirith, but he feared the answer he may recieve.
Aragorn closed his eyes and thought hard. Legolas, Gimli and the hobbits were in danger, he knew this. Some of his riders had been sent to find them, a comforting thought, but a band of Orcs chased after the small group of travellers and Aragorn knew not their numbers. Then there was the betrayal of Hindike, he had been informed of this already and worried deeply about others that may betray them all.
Then there was Sam; if the others were caught or killed Sam could not merely return to the shire, he would have to do all he could to save them, or at least have proof of their demise before he could give up the chase.
Aragorn dismissed these thoughts, for he knew that he too would do the same for his friends. He would enter the pits of hell to save them, and although he had not seen any of them for some time, he knew they would do the same.
He stood silently and moved towards the door, stopping just before he passed out into the hall beyond. 'I will send word to you when the others arrive' he said, not turning to face the hobbit.
Sam did not turn either; he merely continued to stare into the flames. 'When the others arrive' he mimicked, 'And what if they don't? We do not know what has happened. Unless…' He thought of the mysterious figure that shadowed them across the plains. Perhaps that figure had seen it all and rode straight on to Aragorn, or someone else, for help.
Sam shook the thoughts from his mind, 'Impossible' he sighed, 'there is no way that figure, no matter who or what it was, could have seen the events'
Sam stood and walked to the window. His lodgings were high, even in the cities seven levels. Placed on the sixth, his rooms towered over the walls and looked out on over the plains in all directions.
He gazed out across the plains; he could see figures glimmering in the moonlight, just in sight. And fire, he could see fire. A battle. He swallowed hard and tried not to think of what the figures were. His gaze followed the road back to the city, just in time to see a single figure gallop out in the direction of the glimmering figures. He rode a brilliant white horse and seemed to give no heed to the fact he was possibly riding to the aid of an all but defeated force, facing what may have been hundreds of orcs.
This was madness, what could one man do? Unless some Gondor force had ridden out without Sam knowing, this seemed quite possible as Sam and Aragorn had talked for some time, without once gazing out into the plains.
He sighed again and walked away from the window, it seemed to bring dark thoughts on such a lovely clear night. He glanced back at the window, now too far away to see anything but the sky.
'The sky seems very bright tonight. Though I could have sworn not that bright but seconds ago' thought Sam as he sat on the bed, 'It must be a full moon, and a big one at that, the clouds are playing tricks on me is all.'
He removed some of is clothes and slid under the soft covers of the bed, glancing one more time at the window before he closed his eyes. He drifted to sleep thinking how much darker it seemed to get in the short time it took him to get into bed. 'More clouds in the night', he muttered before falling into a dreamless sleep
Revised version - Some slight additions and modifications, fixed spelling and grammar etc. No changes to the story, just an improvement on the writing.