Faces of War

Chapter 31: Luring

Disclaimer: The characters and premise for this story belong to J.R.R. Tolkien....a man of many talents!

Sorry for the delay...end of the school year is a very busy time for teachers....but all work and no play makes even teachers a little bit dull...so we're back!

endymion2....Frodo is not in very good shape....and the ruffians are soon to be at it again it would seem...but our own Mr. Baggins has friends and supporters in many places....who do you think should reach him first...Sam or Aragorn? I have written and re-written these chapters....but am always open to suggestions!

Shire Baggins...Poor Garth...yet another pawn in Anborns evil games....Frodo senses that Rosetta is a key part of the future of the world...he will do all he can to see her time is made to be valuable...even if his remaining time is diminished....the evil men will be caught...but you may be surprised by by just who is considered evil later in the story!

Elanorelle....Oops... didn't mean to confuse you...Mela is another orphan...briefly introduced in chapter 29...she is the small "plucky" one that Galen sends up the tunnel to investigate the damage from the blast...I felt badly that Rosetta had to be separated from Frodo...but I need our ailing Hobbit to focus on larger questions of good/evil with Qurag....and he needs to not have to worry about her for a little while....I agree...if more people were looking for the greater good...we would all be much better off!

Sam came to his senses with a quick shake of his head and he put out his hand to the man child lass beside him "Samwise Gamgee, at yer service miss Mela" he said stiffly. His head was reeling, he looked deep to the depths of the green eyes before him, she knew him, his eyes confirmed that, yes indeed, this wee lass before him knew his master. He looked her over a moment, scratched and bruised she was and as dirt caked as a pig in muck on market day, but she was sturdy and her bearing was one of confidence and strength. He watched as she brushed some of the dust from her ragged skirt "how is it ye know of me miss?" his voice sounded harsh in the silence of the woods.

She shook more dirt from her loosened braid "Ada told us" she said lightly " he told us of you and master Merry and and even of the pranks of Little Pippin." Mela looked a little saddened by her next words "he told us many tales Master Sam, tales of hope, heros and the glories of long ago, tales of elves, men and hobbit...but he did not tell us what ta do if he were taken from us...so me and the others, well, we need ta find him again...we need our Ada ta help us find our way home. Can you help us to find him?" she asked hopefully, the overly mature nature of her words suddenly overcome by a voice filled with child like longing. Sam stood stock still, lost in his imaginings of Frodo as storyteller, recalling the hours spent wrapped in the spells of wonder his tales often cast. He looked to the girl beside him, she was near to his height and he imagined this one ta be a lass not more'n 8 or 10 summers, he was touched by her sincerity. "Aye, I'll help ya, for that is my only purpose as well youngin'." he paused in his words as Mela smiled broadly at him and then she turned to shout into the opening "I'm out Kylos, send up Gerta and Hanford...then start with the rest of 'em". Sam watched as Mela turned back to him but a moment and he asked "how many of ya are there then?" Mela cocked her head to one side and her lips twitched in a barely suppressed smile as she noted with amusement the concern in Sam's voice. "Oh, not ta worry Master Sam, there are no more'in thirty of us left...some " she paused and searched for the right words "some of us were separated and can't find our way from this tunnel."

Gerta and Hanford were quickly followed by Ansel, Tomel, Kenis and Jory. As each Orphan crawled from the opening, they, using their best manners extended their hands and introduced themselves to Sam. The bewildered Hobbit was soon lost in a swirl of names as he met the orphans. Grendal, Hanna, Erstrad, Moreland....Portrel, Norstrand, Jergan and Yerta, the names and faces kept on coming. Blond haired, red haired, black and brown haired, they kept coming one after another from the hole to solemnly shake his hand and to whisper their words of greeting and homage. Until finally, there were near to twenty five children clustered about him. He shook his head in amazement, each had seemed to know so much of him, their words of warmth and their love of his master had shaken him and he felt his legs trembling. The last of the Orphans seemed to be coming from the hole and Sam found himself face to face with a serious brown haired lad who introduced himself as Kylos. Sam saw a lad of quiet strength and restrained emotions, a serious face, one that had seen too much and laughed too little...his face reminded the Hobbit of another moment in time, another introduction to one whose spirit was far to aged for his youthful body. " 'Tis pleased I am ta meet ya lad, I...I am mighty grateful fer all ya tried ta do for my Master...I'll not be forgetting yer kindnesses" Sam said as he reached his sturdy hand to shake the lad's dust encrusted and chapped fingers in his. "You are all that Ada described" Kylos said, with wonder in his voice "you are warmth and goodness, with the steadiness of good sense and a kind heart...or at least that is how Ada described you." Sam found himself blushing at the glowing praise these children seemed bound to dispense.

"Why is it yer calling Mr. Frodo Ada?" Sam asked and then continued "and why is it yer knowin' so much about me and my ways?". Kylos smiled as he turned to quickly offer a helping hand to yet another child emerging from the hole, "Ada, or Sir Frodo as my sister called him, spoke to us of you, his tales of friendship and the warmth you held for all livin' thing were a comfort to 'em, we heard a lot of Sam and Frodo tales durin' the long dark and scary nights," Kylos sighed, a far away look in his sad eyes..." tales of your youth and times spent learning the ways of the elves with Master Bilbo." Kylos paused a moment " although it twas always night seemingly in the caves...and, ...well" the lad paused a moment, brought back to a lighter memory or so it seemed to Sam "his words gave us strength and his teachings gave us confidence...we, we have all of us been without either mother or father and his way seemed to steady us so, and well, while he don't know of it, we all call him' Ada'...for even as the Lord Elrond of his tales was the father, the leader of the elves....Frodo is our leader" Kylos watched as Sam's eyes held a watery glow "he told us tales of the elves and of the making of the world, he taught us ta read some elvish and ta make choices with our thoughts and deeds that were only ta help others....he did not believe in hate" Kylos whispered at last, his voice breaking with his last words the boy reached a tentative hand to Sam's shoulder "he wouldn't let us believe in it neither...not even with all they done ta him".

Sam near to broke under the weight of the lads last words, for in his visions he'd had images of the pain and torment his master had been through. He'd been able to go on, to continue to hope with the help of the fellowship, to believe that perhaps the endless array of pictures that filled his restless mind were just the worries of his heart brought forth in fear. Now, now there was no escaping the truth, his mind had painted the picture of pain and torment that his lips could not speak of and he felt his legs weaken as his body slowly sank to the surety of the solid ground beneath him. Kylos quickly sat in front of him, squatting and looking with concern into the hazel goodness of Sam's watery gaze " you must have faith master Sam....Frodo always said we must cling to the belief that there is some good in this world, good that is worth fighting for..." Kylos paused to look awkwardly at the sandy haired Hobbit before him, his words were gentle and filled with respect and longing "he told me that those words of yours carried him through some dark times, though he never told me what those dark times were" his voice sounding sad and regretful. Sam reached to the boys shoulder and grasped it firmly "someday my lad, when we are through with this pain and uncertainty, I will tell you and all who will listen of the brave and courageous heart of my master...I will be certain that the world knows of the debt it owes Frodo Baggins" Sam said, his voice tearful and firm in it's convictions.

The group of children, who had been clustered so quietly about the rim of the hole, began to point and speak with delighted whispers as Kylos turned from Sam to see two grown up sized figures emerge frm the rubble of their self made hole. Galen got awkwardly to his feet and then turned to aid Toleman as he exited the confines of the narrow, dank passages underground. The burly guard wiped the dust from him and turning to Sam said "aye master Hobbit, it's right on time you are....now where is this King of ours?, for there is some serious digging to be done." Sam looked about him at the assembled crowd "you mean to say that there are more of ya then?' he asked in his no nonsense tone. Galen's lips twitched and his eyes grew sad " there is yet the matter of digging your master and Kylos's sister from the rubble of the blown tunnel." Sam's face was showing the shock of Galens words, "They were trapped, with their Orc guards, not a day ago...they are in there Sam, and need to be brought forth soon...or soon there will be no air to breathe."

Sam's face whitened "Orc guards?" he questioned warily. "Aye" Galen answered, "our last moments with Frodo was before he was taken by Anborn to slave for the gold brought from the second tunnel. Yer Frodo was taken ta work the fuses and build the explosives....Rosetta, she were taken ta crawl to the tiny spots and lay the charges." Galen looked uncomfortable, almost knowing what Sam's next question would be. The worried Hobbit asked, his hazel eyes boring into Galens "and the Orcs, what of them? What was their task ta be then?". Galen shook his head a moment and replied "I'm not sure exactly, but I'm guessin' that keepin' yer Mr. Frodo cooperative, threatenin' him with harm to his Princess to ensure that the needed work was done, and well I know, that as brave as Frodo tried ta be, he held real fear for them Orcs master Samwise." The burley guard, his eyes softening in understanding, said "Frodo knew they needed him, that if he told them he'd not choose his journey yet...that well, perhaps he could help the children."

Sam, a look of confusion mingling with his ever present worried frown asked "what journey do ya speak of". Galen sighed heavily, a look of quiet wonder and disbelief shadowed his unshaven face "yer Frodo was blessed with the choice given the former lords of Numenor, he's able ta choose his moment of death, and I know that worried Dalmer and Anborn...so I'm bettin' he found a way ta barter away his choice to keep the girl safe." Sam cursed his thickheadedness, he couldn't seem to be able to put any of this together, he was still unsure of what Galen's words, 'choices of Numenor' meant. Galen tried again and bending down low to look the sturdy Hobbit right in the eye whispered softly "he can chose his moment of death, he's been gifted with his time, Master Samwise, he can chose when he's ta die." Sam face lost all color and he felt his hands go cold, he was terrified for he knew the somewhat tenuous hold his Mr. Frodo sometimes seemed to have on living. His eyes filled with unshed tears and he bit his lips to keep his worries from the children clustered so hopefully about him.

He squared his shoulders bravely and with a few words of encouragement began to guide the children down to the Quarry camp. As he walked he tried to keep his eyes from falling to near the gaze of the lad named Kylos, 'that lad knows me, thanks ta yer words Mr. Frodo, that lad knows me right well, I'll need ta be careful ta keep me worries ta meself....I can see they've been through enough they have' Sam thought to himself as he led the group over the ridge and to the steep path leading to the quarry camp. Sam sighed, there was something familiar about the lad Kylos, he searched his tattered memories, wondering if this pale and strong hearted lad was part of the reason his master twasn't there right now. His thoughts turned to Frodo, his frightening visions and images of the past few nights flashed through his mind, he worried that Frodo would not have the strength to continue the unending 'chore' of living with his mistakes and would indeed chose the eternal peace that was his gift from the Valar. As he led the rag tag group of starved, ragged and dirty children to the Quarry camp he thought of his master's words "who will help the Children Sam?" he'd asked then, Sam looked with pride at the children behind and beside him, they were the keepers of his master's last stories...."I will Mr. Frodo, I will" he said under his breath as they descended into the camp.

Qurag watched the sun slowly sink behind the distant hills and then turned to the limp and sweat drenched form beside him. "Sun gone, cool now, we go." he said, his voice harsh in quality, but words gently delivered. Frodo struggled to open his eyes, it was such an effort to re-emerge from his cocoon of slumber. He panted a little in his efforts and grimaced from the pain of his hot and swollen leg as he tried to pull himself up on one elbow, then failing, laid back down in exhaustion. "Yes, now is our best chance" he whispered "I shall need your help Qurag, I cannot even sit up I am afraid, I am sorry."

Frodo trembled from his effort to sit up, he took a deep breath and looked to the dark pitted skin and tensely strung muscles of the Orc at his side. His mind was filled with images of the life led by Qurag, the toil and despair of life lived in constant terror and with the weight of unyielding demands. He shut his a eyes a moment as he gathered his strength "Why Qurag?" he whispered..."why did you do what was asked of you in the Snaga camps?" The pale Hobbit turned his gaze to the solid form beside him and waited for a glimmer of explanation, a view into the life of misery that had claimed so many. Qurag cocked his head to one side "it was my task, expected of me....to make life better." he said in a gruff voice, feeling at once that his Hobbit friend was seeking to make ill of the life given to Orcs, his voice held a ring of defensiveness. Frodo looked wide eyed to Qurag, he did not wish to make the Orc defend his past cruelties, he only wondered at the choices they had each made. Frodo laughed painfully at the irony of it all, a laugh that quickly became a painful shudder as his frame was rattled by an agonizing cough. "Expected of us....yes...there has been much expected of those on both sides...." Frodo said quietly "yet, when shall we do the 'good' for others that is expected of us? When shall we see the good that suits the people of our world...the kind deeds that all deserve...when shall we have the heart to show compassion?" Frodo grimaced in pain as his lengthy speech left him coughing and holding his ribs to hold back this latest hurt.

The Orc looked with something akin to pity at the failing form of the ringbearer, he sensed the weakening spirit, the drive of life slowly ebbing from the dusty, thin form beside him. "We go now, find water, find King" the Orc said and he carefully leaned over and hoisted the frail body into his arms, careful to cradle the infected swollen leg beside his body for support. Frodo's head lolled weakly against the massive dark skin of his protector. Qurag could feel the fever that was once again rising to consume the consciousness of the ringbearer, he was running out of time and worried that his choice to allow the Hobbit to rest had been a folly that would cost the ringbearer his life. He looked down to the faded and pain filled eyes that lit the wan face beneath his gaze, he must hurry.

Anborn looked about him, an ugly sneer of contempt upon his lips, he would not be caught, never again would he pay for his cruelty towards those less than himself. He had decided long ago that he'd take his share and seek his fortune, family ties be damned, he would take all that life owed him. His brother had chosen to align himself with these loathsome and desperate men. 'I shall not share the fate of such lowly creatures' he sneered to himself as he tied the last of the gold pouches to his saddle, 'I shall take all that's mine and find my reward'. With a last scornful look about the myriad of men sleeping throughout the makeshift camp, he signaled to Mendal and Thad to follow as he sat himself upon his steed and then, wheeling fast upon his mount, he rode silently off into the deepening night, sparing no thoughts of love nor compassion for the brother he knew to be sitting in the path of the King's slowly encroaching assault.. "I've all the gold I can carry, it tis up to Dalmer to find his own path" he thought as he rode off, his skulking form soon swallowed up by the cover of the dark night.