II

"Faramir," I whispered and pointed. He peered cautiously out of our hidingplace behind a shrub. Smoke rose from a hill, behind several mulberry trees.

"Later Eorl. Now, we deal with the oliphaunts," he whispered back. I squirmed uncomfortably. "Blow the signal Eorl lad." I picked up a wooden whistle and blew. It sounded like a thrush. To these Haradrim, it would have been nothing. A whistle sounded back. I counted under my breath... one, two, three.

We jumped out of hiding places. I released my arrow. It whizzed through the air and hit a Haradrim in the chest. He screamed and fell back. Faramir hit one too.

"Take down the animals!" he shouted. I aimed one for the throat. Arrows flew everywhere. I loved this life. The thrill, the screams, the death of all the enemies. Someone next to me screamed. I turned wildly and saw Faramir with an arrow in his shoulder. I gasped and yanked it out. He gasped in pain. "Nay Eorl. It's nothing but a scratch. Go back or we will both be in danger, Eorl."

I slid my hands under his arms and linked my fingers over his chest. I pulled him to safety. He was very heavy. It was not fat. It was muscles that made him look big and bulky. I strained all my muscles until I thought I would rip into half. Faramir dug the heel of his leather boot into the ground and pushed. I hid him behind some bushes. "Come on, captain. Let us see that wound of yours," I said. I unclasped his cloak and took out my dagger. I cut some of his shirt away so I could see his wound properly.

"My father is going to be mad if he sees my ripped shirt," Faramir laughed wryly. I muttered in agreement. The wound was not bad. It was red, but not too much blood. I peered closer. No splints of metal anywhere. I clasped his cloak and nodded. Faramir thanked me and we crawled back to where the battle was still raging.

Or at least it was raging. Bodies littered the ground. Mostly Haradrim. I saw Edereth lying on the ground, an arrow stuck in his breastbone. Poor Edereth, the laughing Edereth with a dark sense of humor. May his spirit find its way.

"How many dead?" Faramir asked. Duhildir replied, "Six, m'lord. Two oliphaunts bearing nine of the Enemy fled."

"Good. Eorl, Duhildir, Elhor, Kennith, follow me. The rest of you return to the cave." Faramir smiled. I drew my sword like the rest of them and we trudged up the hill silently.

We Rangers are famous for our 'silent walking'. We learnt it from the elves, in the greater days of Minas Tirith. Alas, now, it is crumbling into decay.

Three figures sat around a campfire. It smelt good. One of them was bald as a coot with cheesy-white skin. He was a scary looking one. The other two had curly hair covering their head. They wore green... no brown cloaks. Whenever one of them moved, it changed hue.

Faramir emerged from the shrubbery. The two creatures jumped. The creature slinked away with a pale light in his eyes. I touched my blade to the fatter one's neck. His eyes widened.

"Who are you?" Faramir demanded sternly. I could see he was tired. A dark patch was growing on his shoulder where the arrow got him.

"We are innocent travelers on an errand of secrecy," said the older one. "Frodo Baggins is my name and this is Samwise Gamgee. We are from the Shire up north. Hobbits we call ourselves, but you may know us as Halflings or Hobytla."

Duhildir spat. "Innocent travelers! No one dwells in Ithilien except Rangers and servants of the Dark Lord Sauron."

"Silence Duhildir!" Faramir fairly shouted. "Don't speak his name here." He stared at the hobbits. I felt my blade shiver as Samwise trembled. Finally, Faramir said, "Bind their hands, blindfold them, and take them to the cave."