Faces of War: Chapter 46
Accepting
Disclaimer: The characters and settings of this story are not of my own making….this credit goes to a wondrous storyteller….long live JRR Tolkein through story and deed….
Many apologies to all for the lateness of this entry….I bless those that have followed the story and caution you that I have made changes to the ending….have sought to give our ring bearer a different purpose in his future….this is the reason this story was so delayed…..enjoy!
Synopsis….due to the length of time between this and previous entries…..
Frodo, after being tormented by ruffians in his attempts to help a band of kidnapped orphans, is paired with two Orcs who help him to escape the work camp with his 'princess' Rosetta. The Princess falls ill and is separated from Frodo while being brought to healing. The Orphaned train or group of children set free from the work camp travel with Gimli and Galen(friendly guard from work camp) towards the second ship that Aragorn stocked with gold and provisions at the request of the ruffians who had kidnapped Frodo and the orphans. Sam, Aragorn and Qurag(the strangely noble Orc prisoner who helped Frodo and Rosetta escape) care for Frodo as he sickens from his abusive treatment at the hands of the ruffians. Elrond and Gandalf have met and discussed the fact that Frodo will be allowed to travel to the shores of Tol Eressa to be reunited with Chyrs ( Frodo's former love).
Many thanks to those of you reviewing…Julia Baggins. WVUchick, Moonlightshadows, love those hobbits, Althea, Breallyaleatherleaf, cool mauraders….blessings upon you all…may the the lights of middle earth always light your way….I will respnd to individual comments in the future….I am just now trying to submit a chapter…so be patient and thanks for keeping abreast of the situation!
Aragorn looked at the leather strap positioned in his hands, he admired the heft and feel, the smooth texture and malleable form of the fastenings his hands had worked hundreds of times. His months as King had given him a new found appreciation for the simple tasks given him. The notion that all things should be as easy to fix as the baggage under his weather worn hands could not help but play through his mind. He finished tying down the pouches and bags which held his healers supplies and turned to look about the members of his encampment.
Mendal was struggling against the firm grasp of Durzak, but the darkly stoic Orc guard could not be budged and soon the bound and gagged figure of Frodo's former tormentor was too tired too persist. Aragorn smiled grimly, Durzak was definitely the right choice to dog the steps of their ruffian prisoner. The Kings gaze turned next to Qurag, who held a weakly coughing ring bearer in his arms. Sam was muttering to himself and attempting to re-wrap Frodo's cloak about the trembling shoulders of his master "there now Mr. Frodo, jest the change in position that's aggravating the coughing, it'll soon settle…there ya go sir" he murmured soothingly. The frown on Sam's face told Aragorn that Frodo's lack of response to his soothing words were a concern.
Brego was held at the ready as Aragorn helped Sam upon his mounts broad back "here Sam, place the blanket before you, we'll lay Frodo here as if upon a sling…." Aragorn saw Sam lips begin to protest but he raised a hand to stop his utterance as he added "we will secure him to you with these straps, and never fear, I'll not tie them too tight" he said with a smile. Qurag carefully lifted Frodo, whose coughs had quieted, to Sam's waiting arms, being careful not to brush anything against the injured foot in his transference. Sam gently brushed a stray curl from his masters face and looked worriedly to the sunken cheeks and dark circles beneath his eyes, taking in the blue tinged lips and shallow breaths. Aragorn sought to bring comfort to the loyal friend as he said softly "I will walk at your side Sam, you need not fear, Frodo will have what comforts I can give him."
Sam sighed, resigning himself to the notion that this part of their journey would be one worry layered upon another as he sought to keep his friend as free from pain as possible. He leaned down to whisper words of comfort "lie ye quiet Mr. Frodo….Strider'll get us to yer little lady as soon as he's able". Frodo drew in a deep breath, his coughs reawakened by his attempts to bring in enough air to speak. Between his raspy coughs he sought to share his thoughts with Sam as his fever bright eyes squinted against the brightness of the rising sun. "Sam..we must find the her" he paused to cough as Sam pulled the bony frame of his master more upright to ease his rattled breathes…."the princess needs her prince" he gasped…."do not let me fail to aid her my friend…she… calls ….to me…. for help" his last words barely audible as his dwindling energy and lack of breath robbed his voice of strength.
"I'll do all in me power sir….ye'll see to her aide as soon as the will 'o Samwise Gamgee can get yer there…." Sam's voice carried the promise of his heart and Frodo lay back as his cough and his fears were lessened. "Thank you Sam…" Frodo said weakly as he lifted the corner of his lips in what might have passed as a smile "I shall always heed her call….as long as I am able….I promised to be her teller of tales…to share the adventures of the world …to share my hope Sam." The stocky hobbit looked, and he recalled all the hours he'd spent captivated by tales of far away and long ago ,with eyes burning from the pain of tears held back , he stared into the wondrous light of love that shone in his companions eyes. A deep and agonizingly long cough erupted from the ring bearer and Sam just soothed him to quiet with murmurs of encouragement and strokes upon his shoulders to ease the passage of the expellations.When the coughs eased at last Sam shifted Frodo's weight to bring his head more upright and he hugged the frail blanket draped form of his hero "She'll 'ave all the 'ope we can all muster sir…mark me words."
The dull 'clop clop' of the ponies hooves echoed in the shadows of the canyon walls. It was late afternoon and the heat of the day had passed it's zenith with the coming of the dusky lights of late afternoon. The stocky dwarf gratefully wiped the sleeve of his tunic across his forehead, it felt good to feel the slight puffs of air that the water borne currents of the river before them wafted back into the narrow confines of the canyon. He looked anxiously through the shadows, seeking to spot the motions of the horse and rider up ahead. Galen was scouting the distant bend in the trail and his tall figure was fading from sight as Gimli felt a chill run through his frame, a boding of evil coming his way seeped into his mind and the road ahead seemed suddenly darker. He was about to raise the riding crop used to urge the ponies to their fastest speed, to use the adrenaline he'd kept so far in check to flee the confines of the steep canyon walls. A voice behind him made him start and he frowned as he lost the thread of his tension and turned to respond to the child behind him "master dwarf….I have to lose my waters " the little voice whispered. The small but anxious and hopeful bright eyes of a young child glowed in the shadows of the canyon walls.
Gimli found himself smiling broadly, his anxiety and fear laid to rest as he met the eyes of the child…."certainly miss Yanna….as we reach the gathering of spruce ahead we will pull up"…he saw the distress in her eyes and noted the clenching of her jaw and he added as gently as his gruff voice could muster "if ye can not wait child I shall pull up right here." Her smile wavered but the drop of her chin passed as a sign of assent for the Dwarf, so he reached to pat her head and turning back to the team of ponies pulled back on the reins and stopped their forward motion. Several other children took their chance and jumped to the relief offered by the near scrub brush.
Kylos looked anxiously to the array of brush and rocks surrounding them…his mind was uneasy, he felt the ticking of the clock, the transience of time, the fleeting sensation of hope struggling to remain alive. He glanced to the smiling countenance of their dwarven guide and then looked ahead to the empty road that Galen had disappeared upon moments before. The world as he once knew was behind him, he saw in the distant blurred images of his mind, days of familiarity and predictable routines, days of soft acceptance and gentle encouragement. He looked to the faces of the young ones about him and he remembered his youth, remembered a lifetime ago when he had played the games of childhood, as he'd sought to learn the patterns of his future.
He was now in a world where his vigilance, his suspicion and his tolerance for pain would guide his choices. He was on edge, hyper vigilant to all sounds and sights before him. His foresight of the past days had remained a torment to him, one he could neither share nor justify and had served only to set his already frayed nerves to teeter upon the edge of paranoia. The sudden screech of a distant bird caused him to swivel rapidly side to side as he sought to see from whence the sound came. The sound came again, the trilling call and echoed reply of a bird to it's mate. Kylos wished he paid better attention to the naming of the birds in the forests and meadows of his young and innocent days….but he hadn't and could only guess at the nature of the bird calls he was hearing.
The children who'd sought the privacy of nearby bushes to attend to their needs began to return from their appointed rounds. Kylos caught the eye of Gimli as the moments stretched out into uncomfortable stretches of time and still there was no sign of Yanna. Kylos widened his eyes expectantly and shrugged his shoulders as he gestured wordlessly to the dwarf that he would check the adjacent growth of tree and bushes in search of their wagon mate. He hopped carefully from his place in the wagon and walked off to a spot seen oft used by his peers. He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun, with a crook of his fingers illuminating his choice of foot path, he began his cautious steps forward. "Yanna" he whispered "Yanna…..are you alright then lass?" he asked and then continued "We are worried for you on out now….'tis no good joking with them who have no time for a witty out Yanna" he softly completed his words, a tough rendition of wheedling heard in his young voice.
After a few long moments, The dwarf could no longer stand the tension, with a last glance at the children behind him he climbed down from the wagon's seat and entered the closest set of bushes. Gimili crept forward slowly, shaking the bushes to alert the lass to his presence, he did not want to catch her unaware and violate her privacy….but he was becoming uneasy. "There 'tis something not right here my friend" he muttered to himself, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as a sudden feeling of dread seeped into his heart. He walked faster now, less concerned with Yanna's privacy than her safety, he called out her name "Yanna…..finish yer business lass…..we've got to move on now". He hastened his pace yet again, ripping bushes aside and calling the lasses name he heard Kylos begin to yell her name as well and the air soon echoed with twin cries of "Yanna…Yanna…". But no answer came.
Gimli, breathing hard, sweat trickling down beneath his leather jerkin felt panic fill him as he made the decision to head back to the wagon…he would need to enlist the aid of the other orphans he decided and he pushed aside the last bush ready to shout out his request as his heart thudded painfully in his chest and his mouth opened in fear.
Yanna, her face pale with fear and eyes pleading silently for help, was held in the encircled arm of a swarthy skinned corsair. The large muscled man tightened his arm about the small girl's neck as his ship mates looked on with stony faces. Gimli was suddenly struck down from behind and fell with a grunt to the rock strewn cart trail. He landed hard on his hands and knees, instinctively reaching for his short handled axe he found his arm wrenched behind his back as a sharp pain exploded in his gut. The Corsair brought his foot in an agonizing kick to the dwarf's midsection and Gimli bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. He was dragged to his feet struggling madly, arms pulled sharply back when a second Corsair brought his long gleaming blade to rest amidst the tumble of the dwarf's red beard. He gave up his struggles and glared at the darkly tattooed and greasy haired scavenger before him.
Keldor stared down at the dust covered dwarf before him "there will be no resistance Dwarf….others will pay for your mistakes" he said with quiet purpose. He turned to the Corsair holding the young lass before him and pausing a moment to say "do not make the mistake of thinking we have any need of compassion my dwarf" he nodded slowly and purposefully. Gimli, having seen the blatant disregard for life reflected in the flat dark eyes of the Corsair, screamed his anguish as the guard in a flash had taken his knife and drawn it across the dirt encrusted neck of the young lass before throwing her lifeless body to the ground.
Gimli began at once to struggle as he sought to break free. Keldor nodded once more and another child was dragged from the cart. Gimli realized his mistake at once and ceased his struggles as he growled, his voice thick with hatred "you win pirate, I'll be still so that the children will live". Keldor nodded, his lips curled up in a sneer "oh, you'll do more than that Mr. Dwarf…..you'll do more than that to ensure the safety of my newest slaves….". Keldor paused to look over the motley crew before him, children whose ages and sizes varied greatly from one to another. "You'll teach them to row my ship… as you once did so skillfully for my other slaves" the deep steadiness of Keldor's voice continued as he stared at the stoic dwarf before him "the woodland folk you helped me to procure….or have you forgotten my angry young dwarf?"
The dwarf, who'd been still to forestall any further harm to the children….let his gaze break from the depth of hatred in Keldor's eyes and he took in the horror of Yanna's limp body and the fear filled faces of the remaining orphans, he swallowed his pride and chose his words with great care. "Aye Keldor….I know of the workings of yer great ship…and at the need of these children…I'll return to me tasks as yer row master….but mark my words….the King will stand for no harm coming to the children of his Kingdom".
Keldor paused in his hard gaze, his icy eyes resting for a long moment upon the short stature of the dwarf before him as he said "Perhaps a trade will be more to his liking then….he does after all seem to be in possession of my property….there is the matter of Firngil's ownership we have yet to barter….and I doubt not that the King will listen to the pleadings of his Halflings when he sees what is to be gained…..I have no doubt of this my friend Master Gimli"…..the Corsair captain said with a laconic grin. With a dismissive nod of his head and a curt growl he beckoned the growing number of his men to take control of the cart as Gimli and Kylos were trussed painfully and tossed with no quarter to the back of the wagon as the rest of the orphans were forced to walk….their hands tied to the two ropes that trailed the slow creaking of the cart.
Gimli fought to keep a stoic expression firm upon his face. The gaze of the young lad Kylos near to burning a hole in the stalwart dwarf's composure, he turned from the unspoken questions in the lads eyes to view the limp and dust covered body of Yanna. Her crumpled body and weakly folded limbs reminded Gimli of a young bird who had, with no parental protection about them, ventured too far and fallen from the haven of their nest. He looked from the still body of the young lass who'd brought naught but warmth and smiles to loneliness of a warriors campsite to the hardened ease with which the corsair captain carried himself. His mind burned with images of pain, degradation and abject misery with which he'd been surrounded in his past. He vowed his steely dwarf promise and knew that where one war had ended, another battle for him was just beginning, his heart would never find it's peace while his focal point of hatred existed.
The quiet clip clop of lightly stepping elven steeds were the only sounds that broke the stillness of the late afternoon. Legolas raised his hand to signal a halt to his companions. He looked at the view spread before him, the river sparkled with the fleeting magnificence of a fey jewel cache in the rays of the setting sun, sapphire blues, ruby reds and the lustrous golden hues of near forgotten treasure. He willed himself to pause, to refresh his spirit with the beauty spread before him, but found his heart could not see the glories of the view below him while his mind thought only of the passing of time that such colors had brought to pass. He turned the intensity of his sea colored eyes to the view of the twenty elven warriors behind him, he calculated in his mind the distance they would still need to travel to reach the site of the second ship, he raised a shapely eyebrow and nodded as he urged his horse towards the narrow path the to waiting river. Silently the graceful and tensely upright warriors, displaying the stony elegance of their kind, followed.
Galen groaned, his head throbbed and he felt the roil of his uneasy stomach assail him as a wave of dizziness nearly overwhelmed him. He bit his lip and forming his hands to lose fists, sought to pull himself forward. The uneven stones of the ground dug into his fingertips and he shuddered in pain as he sought to find purchase and roll himself over to his back. Before he could gather his wits and strength enough to bring himself to a position of his choosing, he felt a sudden weight upon his back and a hand reached to roughly grasp his dust covered hair as his head was pulled back roughly. He stiffled his desire to groan and stiffened his body in wary protest of it's handling. He was muzzy in his perception of the world about him and his memory of the events of the last few moments could not be reconciled to his current circumstance…he could not understand what had happened …how he had come to be lying upon the trail with a roughly shod foot upon his lower back.
As he was trying to gather his thoughts he was abruptly rolled and yanked 'till he was facing the darkly etched face of the greasy haired ruffian whose presence filled his senses. The smell of the greasy hair and foul breath, the feel of ragged nails against his skin, the sight of the deeply scarred skin, flesh etched with tattoos and skin tortured to coerce the will of it's bearer bit into his senses and he waited for the word of his enslaver.
Yet before a single word could be uttered the breathless cry of a young child was heard and Galen shifted his gaze in time to see a small puff of dust and to hear the sound of a small body impacting with the hard ground. He held his breath waiting for the cry that he felt sure he'd soon hear, but the only sound to meet his ears was the panting of one trying hard to control themselves, one struggling not to cry, one who'd learned the cruel lesson that tears only made pain worse when they fell on deaf ears. He blinked heavily, waiting for his mind and senses to clear a little more, waiting for the darkly scarred hand entwined in his hair to lessen it's presence, waiting to see if all the fear in his heart would really be laid before him.
As the dust cleared and the owner of the silent tears made themselves known Galen felt himself gasp and begin to struggle in vain, but the swarthy muscled man to whom the iron grip belonged laughed harshly, his laughter echoed by the loud replies of others as Galen's arm was twisted behind his back and he was forced to his feet. He was dimly aware of a trickle of blood running down the side of his head and he clenched his eyes closed tightly to fight the vertigo of his abrupt changed in posture. As he struggled to master his growing dizziness and the uneasy roil of his stomach he breathed heavily through his nose and bit his lips.
The sound of small stones shifting and the grip of small hands upon his legs took his focus from his nausea and he willed himself to open his eyes and look down to the small being wrapped about his legs. He found himself looking to the wide eyed and fearful stare of dark blue eyes set in a face reddened from the sun, scratched and dirty from days of unrelenting travel and highlighted by the priceless gift of a smile. He felt his legs weaken in relief and surrounded by the cruel laughter and coarse comments of their captors the guard and the child who would be princess found their haven in the presence of the other.