Chapter 4
Time Fades
"Come along, you miserable thing," Aragorn shouted as he ran. That may have been his worst mistake. For his ill fortune, the wind died down at the exact instand to his cry and the ears of the enemy turned towards him. Aragorn felt the pounding of many feet through the ground beneath him. Whatever these creatures were, they were powerful and plentiful. Gollum tried to writhe free and as Aragorn tugged on his leash, and Uruk-hai attacked from behind. While he strove with that one, another cut the rope which bound Gollum to Aragorn. Soon the Ranger was surrounded and within moments he had fallen.
"Frodo?" came Boromir's voice, startling Frodo out of a troubling, sleepless thought. He sat straight up and did not relax until he was certain the Ring still hung around his neck. "I could see you were troubled, and rightly so. As near as Gimli and I could guess, the sun should have risen by now. I don't think Aragorn would have taken this long to scout out the terrain and return had something ill not befallen them." Boromir seemed to have perceived Frodo's thoughts and his worst fear. "We should begin to prepare oursleves for the possiblilites in case . . . in case they do not return."
"If I were in charge, which I not I'm not, I'd go chasing after that pointy-eared Elf prince and that crazy human just to prove that they can't be killing themselves off and get all the glory," Gimli volunteered.
"But the chase could lead us all to our doom," Boromir objected. "What proof do we have that our companions yet live."
"Aye, but what do we see or hear that guarantees their defeat? Nothing! It seems there are risks either way."
"But if the Ring goes off to the enemy . . ." Boromir cut himself off, seeing that Merry was stirring.
"Hello, Frodo, Gimli, Boromir. Any sign of the others?" Merry asked in his happy-go-lucky way.
"None," answered Frodo, "and it's past dawn."
"Gime 'em time. Ye can't expeck 'em to run like deer in this fog," Merry laughed. He was always the optimist.
'If only it were that simple, Merry,' Frodo thought. He felt uncomfortable even in his mind, fantasizing that Boromir could hear all he thought, whether he said it or not. He envied Merry. He knew some of what lay ahead, but had, perhaps, no role to play in how the dice of fate would roll. But he was in as much danger now as the rest of the Company was. What would happen if Pippin and Merry should be injured, or killed? What if they saw the death of a good friend? No. Frodo knew he must protect his cousins. To him, the represented innocence, and, in a way, the Shire. If innocence were shattered, the Shire would be gone, its ideals crushed, erased forever from time's memory. It was these thoughts and the sweet memory of the Shire that drove Frodo to sleep that foggy morning.
Legolas awoke to an earthquake. 'No, that's not it,' he thought. The beating of drums, no. It was a combination of the two. He opened his eyes and saw nothing, save fog. Judging by the amount of light, it was nearly nine o' clock. That meant he and Aragorn had slightly over an hour to escape and return to the others. Aragorn! Where was that Ranger? Legolast tried to stand, but found his legs and arms were bound.
"Great," muttered Legolas. "Just great." Just then, another party of Uruk-Hai and Orcs arrived. Legolas tried to understand what they were saying, but the dark tongue was difficult for even the ears of elves to comprehend, for it was destined for evil tongues and ears. He caught something about Saruman and Isengard. Something caught his eyes: a star low, amid where, from the sounds of it, the foul Company was located. 'No star is ever that low,' thought Legolas. There was only one thing in Ennorath that light could be: the Evenstar. Luckily for the Companions, Aragorn had not decided to leave it with Frodo for safe keeping as he had considered it a power that might aid the others since they were depriced of the protection of Anduril and the Bow of Legolas. Legolas scooted himself slowly but surely towards the only light he could see. He ran into several Uruk-hai in the process, bruising him up pretty badly from all that armor they wore, but, fortunately, they could not feel the impact. He eventually reached Aragorn, but could only see the outline of the Human he knew so well.
"Dunedain," he whispered over the wind, which had mellowed some since the previous night, but was still fairly violent. Aragorn was motionless, save his shallow breathing. "Aragorn," Legolas called again. Aragorn mumbled in Elvish.
"Nin este. Dhinnan le." I rest. You silence.
"Cuiva, mellon nin. Dagor utulien. (Wake up, my friend. Battle has come.)" Legolas practically shouted in Aragorn's ear.
"What time is it?" Aragorn asked, still half-asleep.
"By my account, it's neary ten o' clock. One more hour and the others will be forced to choose."
"Don't give up yet, Frodo," Aragorn whispered, as if somohow he thought Frodo could hear him. Legolas saw the Uruk-hai had taken Anduril as well as Aragorn's bow and daggers, which probably meant his bow and knives from Lorien had also been stolen. Getting out of this mess would be a challenge, but Legolas vowed to escape, or at least allow his companinon to escape. There was a reason the Uruks had not yet killed them, but neither companion knew what it was. Then, throught the fog, Legolas saw imprinted on the armor the White Hand of Saruman. "At least we know whose slaves they are," Legolas mused. But that still didn't answer the question. Why were they alive?