Chapter 3 Bergil

Disclaimer: don't own rangers Faramir Mablung Damrod Bergil etc. no money being made.

At last they had found it. It was the greatest of the orc strongholds left in the Mountains of Shadow. Even though it was the greatest of those left, ten years ago it would have been accounted to be a lesser hole, a cave, a look out post. How things had changed!

He could only vaguely remember them but his father and uncle had often told him tales of battles, of how all the people of Gondor lived in fear of the shadow of Mordor and of how Ithilien was a no-mans land of battle and fights. He knew that few people missed the days of fear and battle but he couldn't help wish that he could have lived then and struck a blow for Gondor' s freedom. His father knew this and he had used his position as Captain of the White Company the Guard of Faramir Prince of Ithilien to appoint him to the Rangers of Ithilien, an elite band of men whose task it was to flush out the last remains of the orcs of Mordor from the mountains, on his twenty first birthday.

This was only his first mission and what a way to start! He was the most junior man on this mission but his commander was the great hero Mablung, who had been a Ranger before the War of the Ring and who had lead the Rangers during the famous March on Mordor while the lord Faramir was ill in Minas Tirith. His father had been on the march and had fought well but more importantly during the siege he had defied orders to save Faramir from being burnt to death when his father Denethor had gone mad. The glory of this and the small part he had played during the siege in fetching athelas for king Elessar to save Faramir, who had commanded the rangers before and during the war and was loved by all the men, made the men less unwilling to have him with them then otherwise but he knew he would still have to prove himself to them before they would accept him as a true Ranger.

It had all gone to plan. They had surprised the orcs and had slaughtered all of them. Many had come running out of the cave when they had shot the guards with food still in their mouths. When they had seen the Rangers they had been so surprised many without weapons had killed those who had to get them.

It was still dark when they were finished and after they had lit a fire and tended to those who had been wounded, none fatally, thank the Valar the orcs had been too panicked to aim properly, Bergil had drawn the short straw to have the first watch. As he turned round from the fire he saw in the pale light a gleam of reflected light as if on someone's head. He would have thought it was his imagination but just afterwards he heard a rustle in the bushes. Quickly he sent an arrow after it but, in the dim light and without a clear idea of what he was aiming at, he missed. Hearing the bowstring singing and the arrow whistling Mablung awoke.

"Why did you fire?" he asked.

"I thought I saw something in the bushes."

"It was just your imagination."

"That's what I would have thought but I heard the bushes rustling."

"It was the wind. However if you did see something hostile towards us and your arrow did not scare it away, then you will just have to keep a good look out and stop all of us being murdered as we sleep. I have the next watch and I will tell Mardil to be careful when he takes over from me." Bergil stayed on the watch until he was relived but neither he nor either of the others saw anything more that night.

The next morning they burnt the corpses of the orcs and then searched through their foul den for any prisoners that might still be left alive. They found no one but just before they left Mardil found something strange in one of the cells. It was near the front of the cave with a tiny crack in the wall like a window there was straw in one corner and beside it there was a metal plate and a cup.

"There has been a human here. How recently I cannot tell. I think that you may have been right when you thought you saw something last night Bergil." Said Mablung when they showed it to him.

"But if I saw them last night, wouldn't that mean that they saw us? Why would a human run away from us?"

" Eru only knows. If they had been imprisoned for any length of time they may have forgotten any treatment but that of orcs and they would fear we would treat them like that. Or maybe they did not see us. It was dark you must remember and you only just saw them and if they thought your arrow was an attack they would have run away. Then again they might have given up hope and died weeks ago. Or they might have escaped. Who knows?"

After collapsing some of the more inner chambers and boarding up the entrance the Rangers set out again. The exploration and destruction of the cave had taken the best part of the day and as it was Bergil's first mission they had to obey the tradition of spending at least one night at Henneth Annun the famous hideout hidden deep in Ithilien. Although it lay a day's journey out of their way the tradition was that a Ranger who did not spend one day at Henneth Annun on his first mission would be cursed and all who travelled with him too. The day was bright and clear and they made quick work of the journey. Soon they arrived at the legendary hideout where Lord Faramir had lead the two Hobbit Ringbearers, Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee ten years ago.

As they walked Mablung seemed lost in thought. When they reached the hideout he murmured to himself as if in a dream

"The 7th it was but … Bergil come over here. I may have got it wrong so I want you to work it out for me. When did the Ringbearers come to Henneth Annun?"

"The seventh of March" said Bergil wondering why his commander was testing him in something his two-year-old niece knew.

"Right lad and how many days were taken off of the calendar when the Fourth Age began?"

"Five" he replied now wondering if Mablung was losing his mind.

"So if we were to celebrate the anniversary of their coming when would it be?"

"The second, I suppose, why?"

"What day is it today lad?"

"The second of March." Said Bergil suddenly understanding.

"Aye lad I thought so." Said the older man smiling "Eleven years ago today I was carrying Frodo Baggins down those very steps we just walked along. No bigger then my little nephew he was but fifty years old. Make me feel old it does."

"You're not old. When I think about it I was taller than the other Perian Peregrin Took when I was ten and yet he was nearly three times my age. I should be a giant by now!"

"True they were small and Peregrin was the smallest of all of them, but they say he slew an Olg-Hai troll at the Battle of the Black Gate." "I know he did. It was about to kill my father and he killed it to save him. Then it fell on top of both of them."

Both men laughed. The others looked over at them.

"We were just talking about the War." Mablung told them.

They all nodded knowing which war he meant. He then asked his friend Damrod the same questions but so that the whole cave could hear. This brought up memories for everyone. Soon they had all settled down round a blazing fire to an evening of roast meat, good ale, tall tales and reminisces of the war. Bergil was one of only a few of the younger men who had any stories about themselves but all had cousins, uncles, brothers and fathers who had fought for their country. How ever as the night wore on and the ale flowed freely the tall tales and war tales began to get distinctly mixed up. Mardil claimed that a scar he had on his hand was from a warg bite that had left him at death's door for two days but he had carried on fighting and had killed twenty orcs, ten wargs, five Haradrim and two Oliphaunts, before his uncle Damrod reminded him he and his family had been one of the first to leave the city and that while that scar was from a bite he had gotten during the war, that bite was from a goat on his grandsires farm. They had all laughed but it had grown late and they all wanted to leave early so as to get the best part of the journey back to Emyn Arnen over, so as to get home well before sunset on the second day.