Chapter IV- Interrogation and Planning

Legolas' command was echoed along the wall once more, and the Elves could see how many had fallen by the amount of torches that were extinguished. The Southrons were fighting back to back: half were trying to reach the wall; the others were fighting Anarato's force. They were caught off guard and they were now suffering the consequences. It truly was a slaughter. Legolas' force suffered no casualties as there were no Southron archers to speak of. Apparently, since they had all been at the back of the force, they were the first to be destroyed by Anarato, being unable to fire their bows at such close range. That was where Elves held the advantage. They could easily carry both sword and bow, while Southrons generally held only a large long-bow and perhaps a knife, both useless for close combat.

Not a single Southron warrior made it up the ladder that night. There were simply too many archers to contend with, and they had too far to run before reaching the walls. Soon realizing this fact, the remaining Southrons turned to face Anarato's army. They knew they were defeated, but they simply wouldn't accept it. And in such folly, they all died, save a few who surrendered or fled the battle.

Presently, the door wards opened the gates and the triumphant Elves filed in. They had taken few losses, for as any sensible person knows, it is sheer idiocy to battle Elves in the midst of a forest, especially at night. You cannot win. The Southrons learned this the hard way.

Legolas watched as Anarato strode up the steps to the wall and halted. His eyes went left and right, but didn't seem to find what they sought. His face fell, as if he assumed the worst.

"Where is Haldir?" he finally asked, turning to Legolas. It was then that Legolas remembered. And he feared in his heart that the elf lay amongst the dead.

The morning light revealed the heaps of Southron bodies littering the field like stones scattered by a small boy at play. Everywhere Legolas looked, there were bodies lying sprawled, some on top of each other, in piles of sometimes three or more. It was a ghastly sight altogether, but almost a comfort to the Elves as they beheld their vanquished enemies in utter desolation. They had taken merely eight prisoners. The rest had fled or were massacred.

Anarato selected one of the younger prisoners, who stood trembling for his life, and two Elves pulled him harshly forward, not feeling overly kind to anyone of Southron blood at present. Legolas sidled up to Anarato. He knew what he wanted to ask the Southron, but he was certain that Anarato shared his thought. He summoned the translator. Legolas knew that the general believed Haldir was dead, but he was hopeful that he might be mistaken.

"Where is Haldir?" he asked coldly, his voice a dull edge in the silence. It was the absence of noise that always falls over all after a great battle, and it blanketed everything. Legolas could sense what every Elf present was feeling. Haldir was a well-loved general. The southron seemed hesitant to speak, but a glance at the glowing gaze of hatred the Anarato held him with changed his mind.

"Speak up!" Anarato barked shortly.

"He was taken back to the outpost by a small party of Southrons," the soldier communicated quickly through the translator, glancing back at his companions fearfully. Anarato urged him to elaborate. The southron decided he had nothing to lose. He might as well aid them, and perhaps they would spare his life.

"They planned to use him as a hostage if the battle went ill," he continued. "If you attack them, they will kill him. They said as much. If you value your Elf-friend, I beg you to negotiate."

"We have attempted to negotiate before," answered Anarato, glancing first at Legolas and then back at the southron, "but you dealt deceitfully with us and took Haldir, sent as an emissary, who was promised he would not be harmed, hostage. That is your understanding of negotiation!" The southron gulped nervously, and his features seemed to tighten with anxiety.

"Tell me something that would help us," continued Anarato slowly, but with a veiled threatening intonation, "or you will not draw another breath, I say." Anarato deliberately unsheathed a jeweled knife and held it to the southron's throat. The man trembled visibly, but he dared not refuse to comply.

"Please! Go to-night with a small party, your best trained Elves, and break upon them silently," the southron blurted out plaintively. "This is the next best thing if you will not negotiate. I cannot guarantee that it will avail you, but it is the only other option if you ever want to see your friend alive again. And what's more, I know not if this be of interest to you, but they have another elf, as well. He looked a common soldier to me. Not remarkable. He said not his name. Nor did he give any other information. Five of our men brought him in. Apparently, he had been scouting in the woods. He was at full flight the opposite direction of the battle when they caught him. Since we thought that he was carrying a message of some sort, we didn't kill him immediately, but tried instead to extract information. This didn't work, as he would not give the slightest tale, but instead spat upon our most venerable general. This enraged our leader, and he decided that instead of a quick death, the elf would be sent back to the outpost for some sport later. I know not whether they made it through or no, they may have been intercepted, but the group departed a few mere minutes before your second army arrived."

Legolas looked down in silence. He could guess well whom they had caught, but it was still a puzzlement to him. If Orophin had been captured, how did Anarato's army arrive in such a timely fashion?

"And what of Haldir?" he asked. "How went the peace negotiation that you should take him prisoner?"

"Our general offered peace if he and his people, as well as you and yours, would become subject to the rule of the Southron nation hereafter: to pay tribute, to aid us in war, things of that sort. As you may well imagine, Haldir thought this demand outrageous and soundly refused, after which, he was sent back to the outpost as a prisoner."

"And who are you, a common soldier, I presume, that you should know all of this highly furtive information?"

"I am not a common soldier," the southron replied. "I am a noble. In fact, I helped plan this very battle." Legolas scoffed at him.

"Perhaps the Southrons should find a better planner if they wish to win more battles!" he said. The southron said nothing, knowing a rebuttal could cost him his life. Anarato sighed and peered around the southron to the others standing behind him. He seemed to study them for a time, perhaps to see if the southron had spoken the truth, though he himself could sense that he was. What he saw in their faces told him he was correct. They had nothing left to hide. They only wanted their lives. As Anarato stared, he began to feel something he didn't think he would feel; especially after the wrong they had done his people: genuine compassion. He sighed once more and turned his back to them, thinking. Feeling suddenly very weary, he wondered at this. He decided that it was the fact that he simply loathed battles where the odds didn't matter. Regardless of how many warriors he took against the outpost, long before he liberated it, Haldir and Orophin's lives would have fled them. He felt certain that there was no other alternative.

He instructed the Elven guards to conduct the prisoners down to the dungeon, but not to treat them harshly as they had done what he requested.

"So," said Legolas searchingly, trying to perceive the general's thought, "what are we to do?" Anarato hesitated a moment before answering; his eyes shut briefly, as though he were resting, or in deep thought. Finally, he responded.

"We will be required to attempt a rescue, as the southron suggested," he said. "It is the only decent thing to do in such a circumstance." Legolas nodded, acknowledging the general's truth.

"And," continued Anarato, "I want you to find the most elite Elves you can. We need them for this special undertaking. I would only take ten, or so. They are the most likely to get through without being seen. Obviously, we two will accompany them. We will go to the outpost, evaluate the situation, and make the best judgment we possibly can as for our plan of action. Find the others, and make haste. We haven't a moment to lose. Haldir and Orophin's lives depend on it."