Bearclaw

Gildor's POV

Beleriand, FA 126

The small host remained camped in the place for a day more, which I spent mostly sleeping in Faire's stall. I had refused to move into a tent, not wanting to put up with more or less enforced company all the time. Also, the stable master, one of the grumpy, short-spoken sort, was pleased with that – I could take over looking after the horses in that tent whenever we paused long enough that it would be set up. That left more time on his hands for the mortal horses, which caused much more work than the quite independent – and sensible - elf-horses. But the rest of the day grew long. The few hunters that had been sent out were gone since dawn. I was uncomfortably at loose ends until at dusk the quiet and swift packing up of the camp began. The hunters had returned with the meat cut up already, ready for roasting the next halt. The train started moving with less noise and more speed than I would have credited the motley group with. Simultaneously, I started worrying where I should set my next course. The mountains were visible as a hazy, bluish line at the horizon. I rode with the group of younger and less experienced scouts I had been given charge of by Glorfindel, and my encounters with unfriendly eyes or minds were relatively scarce. There had been a sharp confrontation between Glorfindel and one of his sub-commanders over this, but that had happened behind closed tent-flaps, and the captain said nothing of it to me. So far, neither the scouts nor their main leader had objected to Glorfindel's decision or my presence. They were not only forcibly civil as I had expected, but quite amiably. With that worry off my mind, there still remained the matter that somehow Glorfindel had found out I had been in charge of one of the flanks with Macar's fighters, before Silmarusse's death. He had decided I might as well take Morcollo's place, who was only a temporary scout-leader since Rastatinwi, the original leader, had been killed in an ambush just after the army had set out and the two groups been put together under Leucalinde. I would have been perfectly content to ride under someone's command, but Glorfindel insisted it was better to have four smaller units of horsed scouts under four experienced leaders, than two smaller units and one group so large Leucalinde would have to split them up and give charge to one of the scouts anyway should they be forced to ride as additional guards.

The going was slow still, the core of the group being made up of at least ten heavy wagons holding most of the craftsmen's large gear, and a handful of smaller wagons carrying some supplies and stuff for the tents. I wondered darkly what we were going to do when this reached the mountains. There would be passes to cross, gravel-fields, and the gods knew what other obstacles to reach their hiding.

One group of the scouts was always a day ahead, checking for orc dens and probable ambush sites, while another rode a few miles ahead and the remaining two groups rode with the main body. For the time being though, the weather remained dry and mild, and we camped only light and overnight, leaving the tents packed. Some days out from the point where I had met them, my group was riding guard-duty with the host when one of the outriders came galloping back to the train, shouting something. We were crossing lightly wooded and hard to overlook, slightly rolling lands, and all were wary. The strewn rocks and small valleys suddenly appearing in the ground proved obstacles for the wagons as well as offering wonderful hiding places for orcs. When he slowed in front of Leucalinde I heard the call going through the ranks "Rhevain, rhevain"

Involuntarily, I reached for my sword, then angrily pulled my hand back. A sword would do me hardly any good if I had understood correctly. But the archers and spear-bearers did not look alarmed, so I turned to the young scout riding slightly behind me.

"Wolves? At this time of day? Out in the open?"

The scout shook his head "No, my lord. Though there is sometimes little difference. They are very similar, sometimes, so we call them the Wild Ones"

I frowned "Nandaro, first of all once more stop lording me, and secondly, if that's supposed to enlighten me, it doesn't. What are Wild Ones?"

"Wild Elves, my lo-, sir" Nandaro said hastily "They are generally friendly and will give news, but we also had less nice encounters"

When he saw me still looking blank he launched into a brief explanation, keeping an eye on Leucalinde and the orders passed on. The train slowed, and finally came to a halt. The rising noise level and milling was quickly quelled by a few quiet orders from the guards.

"The rhevain are…well, I suppose you can say outlaws" Nandaro said, leaning forward onto his horses withers "They are a motley crowd, elves of all kindreds that happened to get into conflict with their own people severely enough to leave them. They have their own language, their own customs. I think, there are several clans that have formed in the last years, and they call themselves Wild Elves because they explicitly reject all their former traditions. Some of them are quite – well, bitter, I think. You will not get a good word out of them for your own people. Some even outrightly refuse to speak either Quenya or Sindarin or whatever their original language was, and will only use the mortals' tongues with you"

Now that definitely sounded interesting.

"I've never heard of them"

Nandaro shrugged "Most of us hadn't, until we ran into a group of them and Lord Glorfindel started bargaining with them. They would not say where we could find rich game, but they agreed to hunt for us instead. I don't know what they got in exchange, but we were camped in a dark and quite unfriendly forest for several days, always watched by them. They kept their bargain much better than any would have thought, though, and only about the time you met up with us the last supplies they traded with us were used up. But that was when all the trouble started, with some of the high royals speaking out against Glorfindel and all-"

"Why then?"

"They wanted to trade for weapons, steel pieces, coins"

I shrugged "Where's the problem? The Avari mostly trade for steel"

Nandaro sighed "Because some think it unwise to give them more weapons than they already have. They have the odd fear the rhevain might want to try and fight their way back to where they came from-"

Nandaro broke off when a small group of riders appeared suddenly among the trees and came towards the head of the army. Two of our scouts rode with them, and most of the guards stayed relaxed and calm. Some glanced at the arrivals darkly, though, and muttered among themselves. Glorfindel did not ride forward to intercept the group, and no guards were called to the front either. I took my leisure to watch them. So these were the Wild Elves. No wonder those who objected to lower born nobles in the higher ranks were not happy trading with or, even more, relying, on these guys. One had to remind himself that these were elves. On a dark night, the best scout could have mistaken them for orcs, probably. They rode shaggy-looking mortal horses, some without any gear in elf-fashion, others with saddle or reins or even both. I smiled grimly to myself.

The one who seemed to be leader of the small group was clad in a dark, ragged bearskin, with the head of the beast serving as hood and obscuring most of his face. The fur was held together by a thick leather thong, serving as a mixture of cloak and cape. Underneath garments of assorted furs, ranging from squirrel to wolf, could be seen, but the elf's arms and part of his legs were bare despite the chill winds that interrupted the mild day. He had an axe across his back and a small shield slung across his horse's saddle. That one seemed to go in for close combat rather than stealth, I thought dryly.

The others looked only little less ragged, and obviously anything worked for clothes that the wearer decided would do. Some had tunics or other linen garments, but all relied on furs as main clothing. They also carried an arsenal of weapons that would make any ranger blanch - bows, swords, daggers, as well as the odd axe and broadsword. It would be quite a sight if this group should decide to fight some orcs.

Glorfindel at least seemed to know the leader, who brought his horse alongside Asfaloth to speak with the captain. I caught only half of what was said as the entire conversation went on in a hasty version of what was obviously the Wild Elves' own language. The guards that had ridden with the small group added a few words in what seemed approval. Glorfindel called the Leaders together and word was passed that they would move on towards a wide valley and camp there briefly, while the Wild Elves would each lead some scouts forward. They had killed orcs here two days ago and were sure more hid in the woodlands.

I was aware that decision caused more muttering, but though they did not look very much pleased the leaders also favoured the further delay if the alternative was ambush in the unfamiliar country. As the host moved towards the valley Glorfindel dropped back to me.

"The four others will take two scouts each and have a look at the site. One group will double back on the land we've already crossed. Would you be willing to go forward with Bearclaw alone?"

"Bearclaw?" I said dubiously "And why me? That will leave these scouts under Morcollo's command again" And why are you asking and not simply telling me to go?

"I know" Glorfindel was quite aware of my thought "I ask, because no one else would go with him. I would, but I dare not leave this sack of fleas under Leucalinde's and Morcollo's command. Bearclaw is…well, I suppose the best Orc tracker we could find in the whole of Middle Earth yet. You have some experience fighting them on your own. If you two went forward -"

"Just tell me why you are beating about the bush so much. You weren't as concerned about my preference when assigning the scouts to me"

Glorfindel smiled wryly "I'm sorry, but in this case I will shamelessly use your ignorance of Bearclaw and send you with him if you are willing. If you find out for yourself why the others I could send balk, fine, you can decide then if you would ride with him a second time"

"If we are going to that city as you say, I doubt there will be a second time in the near future" I growled softly "You realize you are not making it better, yes?"

"Yes" Glorfindel grinned and shouted "Hey Bearclaw, my scout leader here will go with you, right?"

I saw quite some heads turn towards them, and turn hastily back so as not to be caught staring. The wild elf leader dropped back, and for a moment I was not sure if I did not rue this new assignment. Bearclaw surveyed me from the shadows of his bear-hood for a moment and gave a brisk nod.

"You had better go as soon as we are safely ensconced. You can send the others on their way as soon as they're ready. The sooner we have an idea what is coming, the better" Glorfindel said softly in Sindarin. I assumed it was for my benefit as I had no idea of the Wild Elves' tongue. I wondered how we were supposed to talk to each other. Bearclaw nodded. He raised his fingers to his lips and gave an odd whistle. The elves of his group turned, and they exchanged a few silent gestures. Without a word, the groups turned their horses and vanished into the forest in different directions, the scouts of Glorfindel's army following them. He turned to Glorfindel and me with satisfaction.

"Well, that was soon" Glorfindel said dryly.

Bearclaw shrugged and grinned "We are effective for our pay" he replied in heavily accented Sindarin. He cast an appreciative glance at Faire "Have your gear with you already?"

"Er- yes" I only now realized that most other guards and scouts did not ride with their packs and bedrolls on their horses. I felt better keeping my things packed neatly and in sight, and neither Faire nor Glorfindel had pointed out I should put them in the wagons as the others.

I knew it would come in handy Faire remarked smugly.

Don't tell me off tomorrow for having you carry the stuff when we could have it carried for a change I warned half-heartedly, trying to keep my mind on two exchanges at once.

"Right" the wild elf pushed his hood back, revealing a wild mane of brown hair and a lean face. Both cheeks were marked by scars, which had roughly the size of a curved claw "You know my name. You are…?"

"…Calathaura" I said, ignoring Glorfindel's speculative glance and hoping he would go along with this.

Bearclaw watched me warily "Calathaura and what? I have had enough blunders with mixing up your titles"

"Just Calathaura. No titles or anything"

Bearclaw frowned but shrugged once more "Alright then" He shifted into a comfortable position on his shaggy beast "Let's go"

Bearclaw proved as good a scout as I had guessed, and much better company than I had feared. We rode warily, and in silence at first. As seemed sensible, I decided to leave most of the immediate scouting to the wild elf and kept my mind on scanning the land and remembering small details that might prove useful soon. We crossed a number of rivulets and brooks, wide meadows and densely wooded patches. Bearclaw gave me a brief description of the general lay of the land and held on a course which he thought favourable to travel with a large host.

We had started out at early afternoon, and when dusk approached we came to a freshly green birch-wood, where the floor was covered with thick long grass and a spicy scent of damp earth and near moor hung in the air. Bearclaw halted his horse and raised his head slightly as if catching a scent. Faire, some paces ahead of him, halted as well and I turned, thinking I had missed something alarming.

"What is it?" I asked when Bearclaw dismounted and pulled the reins over his horse's head.

"We rest for a while" the wild elf announced "We might find orcs sooner than we expect, and I do not want to run into them weary. My group had been riding since last night before we met you"

I dismounted as well and we took the gear off the horses. Faire turned her attention to the grass, and Bearclaw also let his horse wander loose.

"What tells you this is safe?" I asked when the wild elf flattened a space in the grass, formed a circle with small stones and arranged wood for a small fire. Fire seemed the least sensible thing now.

"Oh" Bearclaw looked up and got to his feet "You haven't seen. Come"

"What?"

"I'll show you why it is safe" Bearclaw elaborated "My people leave signs on the sites we pass, and these here told me that no orc comes near this wood"

Bearclaw led me back towards the edge of the wood and aside from the slight trail the horses' hooves had made. He traced the ordinary-looking markings on a birch-trunk, and only when he placed his hands in an odd position over the black markings on the white bark I saw that there was indeed a sign visible, made up half of Bearclaw's hands and half of the marks on the bark.

"This simply means that all of my people who have passed here before have camped here, some even for a few days, without seeing, hearing or scenting orcs, and that no traces of them were found a quarter of a day's walk on foot in each direction"

"Simply?" I echoed, looking at the tree after Bearclaw had lowered his hands again "I would never see that, not even stark drunk"

Bearclaw laughed "One can see a lot stark drunk. But no – that is the purpose of our signs. Neither orcs, nor humans or other elves can read them. Well, some can, but we try to keep them secret"

"It must take years to learn how to read and produce them"

Bearclaw shrugged "That depends. But there is a key, and when you have that, it is easy" He went on back towards their campsite "We have simpler signs as well – look up there. Do you see something?"

I squinted into the branches, dark shapes in the gathering night.

"Look for feathers" Bearclaw said, pointing.

There was a small feather fastened to a branch, that for all the world could have just snagged there.

"That was put there for a purpose, trust me" Bearclaw answered at my doubtful look "Because it goes with those sticks directly opposite"

"Gods" I shook my head "You could have charted the whole land without anyone else knowing"

Bearclaw glanced at me "We have charted quite some regions without you knowing. We were here before you returned"

"Which, in effect, means 'if you were on our side some less of our people might die spying out places unknown to them'"

"You people often pass through our lands without knowing and noticing" the wild elf said as we returned to our small fire.

"And you neither help nor hinder them"

"We are seldom asked to help" Bearclaw smirked slightly "Most of us have little desire to help the people they left, or were made to leave. Most would not accept our help if we offered, anyway"

"There are exceptions, aren't there? Glorfindel deals with you"

Bearclaw speared the meat we had taken with us before leaving the host on green branches and stuck them over the fire. He shrugged "We get paid. We trade fair"

"And what is your gain in this risk? If the lands are as full of orcs as you said?"

Bearclaw snorted, spreading his bare arms and casting a demonstrative glance at himself "Steel" he said simply "We have no forges, and few of us could actually work metal. We used to be all kinds of…professions, but you will realize that we neither build nor farm. We hunt and gather, but for – say milk, grain, linen, steel weapons we must trade, or offer service for coin to be able to buy from humans - or we steal. When the winters are hard, we often enough do"

I stared at the slowly browning meat. So that was what Nandaro meant with no difference between them and wolves.

"Why did Glorfindel – why would no one else go with you this time?" I asked bluntly.

"Ah" Bearclaw smiled crookedly "Let us complete our survey and I will tell you, but I won't risk having to tell Glorfindel you turned tail before we came ten miles"

I smirked "If you think so"

Bearclaw shrugged, but remained silent.

We had taken a loaf of bread each as well. Faire wandered over when I unwrapped it and looked at me expectantly, an amused glint in her eyes. I broke off a handful and gave it to her "Right. Tomorrow, you eat grass"

She gave me a shove that almost flattened me, and I pinched her nose in revenge.

I wonder what happened to his face

Hm

"You are talking to her" the wild elf observed. Faire looked up and stared back at him.

"She is talking to me" I said, hiding my surprise that Bearclaw had noticed the tiny exchange "She wonders what happened to your face"

Bearclaw frowned "What is it to her?"

I shrugged "She's as curious as me"

"Curious" Bearclaw snorted "Well, that's a new way to put it. I think that's worth an answer, right?"

I raised an eyebrow, waiting. Bearclaw indicated the scars "This one was…stupidity, this one intention. I wasn't much of a woodman when I…left. In a hurry. I met a bear in the mountains, and thought I could show him. Well he showed me" Bearclaw made a slashing motion with his hand "I got broken ribs and this souvenir. Some time later, I found a group of Wild Elves – or they found me - and they took me up. They taught me to survive in the wild. And to make this look respectable" He indicated his other cheek "There are quite a lot of interesting techniques to produce scars and tattoos. After a while I went back to look after the bear" He smiled wryly and tugged at the fur-coat "When I returned, I could claim the name of Bearclaw by right. And I needed not freeze in the night anymore"

"You are their leader now"

"Now" Bearclaw stretched and checked on the sizzling meat "I travelled with the group that found me for a long time. A few others joined us, and we became too many to travel quietly and to survive in the winter. We split up, but there were two to claim leadership over the smaller group – me and an Avarin Elf we only knew as Darkstone. He came from the Mines, escaped from Angband. We fought for the lead, and he lost. He and the others agreed to follow me, and that group has stayed together ever since" Bearclaw smirked "Those scouts of yours, they know my story and balk at trading with me. I wonder what they would say to Darkstone. He leads Lamandil and Mithfaun now. They do not know"

I whistled softly "He stayed in your group even though you defeated him?"

Bearclaw shrugged once more "It was a fair fight. We have rows still, but we have no grudge against each other. I am glad to have him in my group – he knows the land around Angband like no other. He is silent as night itself in stalking something. When we spy on orcs, we always send him first. He speaks their language, eavesdrops" Bearclaw shook his head slightly "If your people were willing to trust us, trust him and those that escaped like him, you would have an advantage still in your war-"

The sieges. I stared at the flickering flames. Faire stood behind me, listening to Bearclaw quietly 'They are not all - free' she said darkly 'We cannot trust them. And you find out they lie only when it is too late'

'Oh Faire, if I wanted to judge that I would have returned to Macar and his forces weeks ago'

'Yes I know'

"What were you before? I mean…your people?"

"My people are the Wild Elves" Bearclaw plucked the branches out of the fire and handed me a stick with sizzling meat. Faire snorted softly in disgust at the scent of meat, turning her head away demonstratively.

Bearclaw waved his stick around to cool the meat "I was born in Doriath" he said unexpectedly "My parents were Sindar, in Thingol's court. Ouch" He juggled a piece of meat in his hands "What about you, Calathaura-no-titles-or-anything? What is your story?"

"What makes you think there is any?"

"Everybody has one. I guess yours is interesting, Elda"

"I could say the same of you, wild elf"

Bearclaw laughed in satisfaction "Ah, I will thank Glorfindel for sending someone who does not subside at a glare. But I am a good watcher by now. You know your way around a court – I grew up in one, I know the signs"

I looked at him speculatively, then grinned "You talk so much of fair trade – answer my question, and I will tell you mine, sharp-eyes"

Bearclaw chewed his meat "Bastard"

I laughed "Outlaw"

Bearclaw smirked "Why don't you join us? I think you've got the knack right"

Yes, why don't I? I shook my head "I don't know what I am going to do. Does your offer stand?"

"Yes" Bearclaw said with a slight smile "It will remain"

"Well?" I asked "I won't let you off the hook"

"I see. Well, the Sindar cast me out because I killed an elf. Right in the king's hall"

I stared at him for a moment "Oh"

Faire said nothing, but I knew she flattened her ears to her skull. Bearclaw returned my gaze flatly. I knew I should be scandalized, and some part of me was, but a far greater part did not care in the least. Why should I care? Not my business. I had asked, and this was my answer. Somehow it failed to really bother me. Somehow, I admitted, anything failed to bother me. Nothing truly seemed to matter at the moment.

I nodded. I could not read Bearclaw's face. Uncomfortably, I turned my attention to the meat and pried a piece off the stick.

"I ran for it" Bearclaw added "I found I was able to leave the Girdle, probably because they thought it was just as well. No blood on their hands, the spiders would take care of me" He shrugged carelessly "The land beyond the Girdle would have handled that well, at least if the Wild Elves had not picked me up blundering through the wild. Well" he said then "Your turn. Who did you loose?"

I looked up sharply, and Bearclaw shrugged once more "I said I'm a good watcher"

"My partner. She was slain by orcs a year ago. I hunted them for the last year"

Bearclaw looked at me for a long moment, then at Faire, obviously seeing or guessing more than I liked "It was because of her you…lost your old place"

Now I shrugged "We both lost our places because we refused to marry"

"And exile came in handy to escape the old ways without turning outlaw like us"

"You are uncanny"

"No. Experience"

I made no answer, and Bearclaw did not ask further. We finished eating in silence and slept for a few hours, Bearclaw accepting Faire's offer to keep watch without hesitation. The next few days were much less easy going. We had left the forest barely a mile behind when we found a black ring of cold ashes and the bony remains of some orc dinner. The fire had been doused, and the soil was still damp. We agreed that it was a day old at the most, and when we picked up the trail found it headed in much the same direction Glorfindel's mixed host would take.

Here, a comparatively smooth space of alternating woodland and meadows was framed by rocky, bare ridges that ran parallel to it and would force the host into a kind of tunnel. To pass around them, Bearclaw said, the host would loose more than two moons and move far into almost the opposite direction they eventually had to take. We did not follow the probable route straight but also scoured a broad stretch to both sides of it, splitting up for a while to do that. I went on foot so that Faire could make her own way through the underbrush. Faire's nose picked up scents an elf would simply miss. I had quickly learned to rely on her in tracking my orcs.

But this time we found no fresh tracks, and the signs we saw were old.

When I met Bearclaw back along the orc trail though, the wild elf looked grim "There is a nicely visible deserted camp-site there, and a fresh trail branching off this one a little ahead. It goes off east slightly, and it is fresh. Judging by what I saw and smelled, there is a group near in that direction"

"How many?"

"Ten at least. Others may be off scouring for food. They did not go in ranks, even I cannot read their crisscrossing tracks" Bearclaw shifted slightly on his horse "Would you rather report back and ask for a few scouts? After all, we were sent to scout, not to clear the area"

I considered that for a moment "No" I decided "We would lose them, riding back and returning here"

Bearclaw caught my unspoken proposal and smiled grimly, fingering his dagger "You have a bow – if we manage to surprise them, you hide and take off as many as possible first, I will take care of the remaining"

I nodded "Faire will take care of the ones that slip both of us. Now, or tonight?"

"Night" the wild elf said without hesitation "If we are not discovered earlier. They will have guards"

"I passed a place where you can leave your horse in cover" I said as I dismounted "We should have a look at that camp now, though"

Bearclaw slipped off his horse as well "It is not that far I should think. We had better go on foot. Can you call her before we attack?" he added, glancing at Faire.

"Yes. Will your horse remain quiet when she leaves?"

"I would not be riding him otherwise" Bearclaw said "We cannot afford to have our horses yelling for each other. He may not be as effective a fighting partner as your lady here, but he is wise enough to stay out of harms way, and will come when he is called"

I nodded, satisfied. I felt excitement rising, a dark anticipation to kill more orcs. No, I would not ride back and ask for fighters. That Bearclaw seemed quite happy with that – perhaps unwise – decision only heightened my desire to get going.

'Faire?'

'I go with Bearclaw first. You call'

No sign if she liked or disliked my plans. I sighed and took her reins off, stuffing them in her saddle bags. It would never do to have them snag on boughs or an orc grasping them.

The wild elf led his horse into the forest following my brief description of the place, and Faire trailed after him. I watched her bright coat disappear in the mottled light and dark patches uncomfortably. I was used to fighting in a team with her from start to finish. To have her come into the fight later was sensible, but I missed her cool, steadfast presence in this.

I did not have to wait long for Bearclaw to return, and we crept forward in the direction of the camp. Despite his heavy weapons the wild elf moved with surprising swiftness and stealth. He did not disturb a single branch.

Not knowing where exactly the orcs were and if they had posted sentinels we had to move especially careful. There was only a little distance between us, but we signalled to each other rather than risk a whisper. We followed aside from the trail Bearclaw had mentioned. After a long while creeping through the underbrush I stopped suddenly. Glancing aside I saw Bearclaw freezing at the same instant. The wild elf nodded and made a small motion indicating I should stay where I was. Slowly, Bearclaw moved on. With his hood drawn low over his eyes he almost looked like the bear whose skin he wore.

There was a sudden rustle ahead, and I swiftly wormed my way forward through high grass, taking care not to disturb the branches hanging low above me. Then I found myself face to face with a dead orc, Bearclaw ducked to the ground beside his victim.

I moved up beside the wild elf and glanced at the orc. There was no sign of a weapon on him. Bearclaw made a wringing motion with his hands, and grinned sheepishly "Saw him too late" he mouthed.

Wonderful, I thought wryly Now what? Leave the corpse. We would make a hell of a racket trying to cover it. I glanced up at the sky. Clouds were coming up and it was getting dusky. Stay here and lie low until dark?

Bearclaw tugged at my sleeve, pointing forward. We could not be far from the camp. I shrugged. If we were discovered now, to hell with it.

We moved on together once more. We would be inside the ring of sentinels now. To our utter surprise the camp was filled with mostly sleeping orcs. Four sat up together, casting bones in a pit in what seemed a game. One seemed to win and got bashed over the head by his companion as reward. The metal helm rang dully, and the one who had struck reaped a slash across his face.

Sleeping! That was definitely something new. They must feel oh so secure here. I watched them with loathing. I had a mind to charge right into the sleeping creatures and give them an untimely awakening. Or better, to let them not awake at all.

I glanced at Bearclaw and made a patting motion, suggesting to stay where we were until dark. Or until the waking orcs would force us into action. The wild elf shook his head. He leant close to me, but still I had to strain to hear his whispered short objection "I go back and kill sentinels fast. You find a tree and shoot now. Never mind the night. Call the horse, too"

We had come too far anyway. The risk was greater to alert the sentinels when we crawled back and have the whole pack on us at once. We should wait for the cover of darkness – but then, they were night-creatures. That would play to their strength.

I gave a curt nod. Bearclaw melted into the underbrush. I waited a moment, scanning the trees. A suitable one was several feet away. The opposite direction Bearclaw had taken. I shrugged and slowly made for the tree, expecting to run into a sentinel myself. At the foot of the tree I halted, and then froze. There was a sentinel alright, some distance away, staring into the opposite direction. Orcs had a keen sense of smell but poor eyesight by day. The light wind blew into my face, though. If I was silent…

For a moment I considered killing the watcher, but then decided against it. I killed fast, but not soundless. Not as soundless as Bearclaw. Slowly, holding my breath and moving with utmost care I straightened and laid my hands against the tree. Before I could climb it, a dark shape moved out of the thorn bush behind the orc. Bearclaw wrapped his arms around the orc's face, cutting off the startled growl and muffling the sound with his bear cape. There was crunch, and the orc slumped lifeless. I nodded in admiration. Bearclaw gave me a truly bloodthirsty grin and gestured upwards.

The tree had smooth bark and was easy to climb. I moved into position and took aim. From here my sight was obscured by leaves, but I could see enough for safe shooting. I took my bow and shifted the quiver into position. Bearclaw glided towards the orcs. From above, even his motions were bear-like. I saw him crouch and slip his axe off his shoulder.

I fixed the four waking orcs with a dark glance. Surprise froze the orcs momentarily still, and only the fourth managed a hoarse cry that woke every orc in the camp. I aimed for the heads, eyes and throats. In the sudden milling I took out four more before the orcs realized which direction the arrows were coming from and a literal hail of answering arrows forced me to drop to the ground hastily. From there, I hit another orc before they ran for me. I slung my bow over my back and pulled out my sword. Two passed Bearclaw, the wild elf remaining still undetected, and attacked me. Bearclaw fell on the backs of those that followed their quicker comrades towards me.

I did not see much else than huge dirty plate-armour for a while, hacking, slashing and blocking blows. One orc tripped over a root and I smashed my sword over the unprotected neck. I paid for that in catching a painful blow across my shoulder. It did not penetrate the armour, but the force of it made me stagger and numbed my arm for a painful moment. Regretting not having dropped my bow I rolled ungainly to bring distance between me and the other orc, thinking I would ask Faire to kick me if I managed to get my own bow broken. Behind us, Bearclaw roared wildly, and for a second, the orc was distracted. I reversed the wide arc I had aimed for my opponent's side and instead drove the point of my blade into the orc's belly, throwing my weight against the hilt. The violence of my strike flung the orc back against the tree and I felt the steel hit wood. Somewhere near I heard hooves thundering, then Faire's angry screech. Avoiding the dying orc's clawing grasp I retreated, pulling the blade back and finishing the creature off with a swipe. I turned to the other orcs and found Bearclaw holding off three with shield and axe.

'Faire, this would be a good moment to enter the battle proper'

I ran over to Bearclaw, slamming my blade into the unprotected back of the nearest orc. The creature collapsed with a gargle, spitting blood. I stumbled over the bodies of three orcs that had already fallen to the wild elf's axe and backed off warily. Bearclaw was keeping a wide area around himself clear of orcs, but also of possible back guards. Faire's appearance at the other end of the camp offered a distraction that allowed me to snatch my bow and shoot two more, then Faire was among them and I would not risk hitting her. She ploughed a trail through the few remaining orcs, maiming more than she killed. Bearclaw caught one of his orcs with a slash across its belly and his axe snuck in the steel plate. Both elf and orc went to the ground struggling. Faire crushed the other orc, bowling him over and trampling. Her hooves rang on the armour, and she slipped and stumbled.

'Don't break your neck!'

I crossed into the middle of the camp, grimacing at the smell that hung around the trampled area. I quickly moved around Faire's victims, killing what had not died under her hooves. A last orc attacked me, growling with hate. Briefly I noted that this one's armour was cleaner and in better repair than that of the other orcs, and some crude design in dark red was painted on the breast-plate. Probably a high-ranking one. I did not care. I wanted them dead. This last opponent gave me some work, though. Mostly, orcs lacked finesse in fighting, but in one-to-one combat they were respectable enemies. This one was not leader for no reason, I thought, twisting back to avoid a mean feint. Considerably shorter than I, the orc had the advantage to hit areas I could not well defend. I was forced to retreat several times to avoid blows to my knees and thighs. Parrying them would always leave me defenceless to one side or give the orc an opportunity to strike at my shoulder or head.

Faire was busy keeping orcs off Bearclaw for a moment, then she returned to me. Rearing, she lashed out with her fore-hooves, driving the orc back. I advanced, but Faire finished her kill without my intervention. There was a wet crunch as her hooves cracked the orc's skull open. There would be a fair amount of orc-brain to brush out of her fur tonight, I thought grimly.

I looked for Bearclaw. The wild elf moved around the site, checking for survivors. There were none. I went to him where he crouched inspecting the orcs' gear. His left arm was slick with blood still flowing freely from a deep gash.

"You're alright?"

"Yea. Looks worse than it is" Bearclaw went through the smelly packs with a system, picking out daggers, knives and other metal things "I don't suppose you care for any of this?"

I shook my head. The smell of orc blood and less pleasant things hung heavy over the place. The pungent aroma of trampled foliage and grass mingled with that. I glanced up to see if carrion birds had already taken an interest into the events, but the trees were empty yet. I walked around looking for clues that might tell me if there were other orcs near, but found nothing. Even if they had had written orders, I thought, I would not have been able to read them. The packs and what were probably bedrolls numbered up to the orcs we had killed, I noted with satisfaction. Bearclaw did his own scavenging with cool efficiency. I went over to Faire and rummaged in her saddlebags for a clean rag. Rolling it into a ball I cast it to Bearclaw.

"Here, catch"

The wild elf caught it deftly and grunted in thanks, tying the cloth around his arm and pulling it tight with his teeth before returning to his inspection. I glanced at the former orc-leader, then shook my head. I went to one Bearclaw had killed, recognizable by the split in the solid armour, and rolled the carcass over with one foot. That would do. With a forceful swipe I severed the orc's grimacing head and rammed it on the end of a broken spear. It produced a sickly, slurping crunch. I stuck the sharpened spear-tip into the soft soil at the edge of the camp. It took some force to dig it in firmly, and I grimaced at the pain in my shoulder. If any orcs happened to pass here, should they see what had happened to their comrades.

Bearclaw finished his inspection and came over to me, cleaning his axe with a bloody rag. He gave the trophy a leer.

"Nice idea. Could have been Darkstone's"

I shrugged "I wish he could still feel it"

"Huh" Bearclaw cinched the straps holding his axe in place tighter "Hateful, are we? Your lady is a good fighter, by the way"

"You tell her"

"I did" Bearclaw glanced around "We should pile these wretches, don't you think?"

"I don't give a damn if they rot where they lie" I said "Wasted time"

It was long after nightfall when we came to a small lake Bearclaw knew and rested there. Faire looked for the brook running out from it and splashed into the water, cooling her legs and trying to get rid of the dried blood. I had no grooming supplies and the best I could do was getting her to lie down in the brook and kneeling beside her in the water, rubbing her fur with my hands. Bearclaw cast off his fur-cloak and weapons and stripped without hesitation, wading out into the pond.

"Come on" he looked back at me "You'll never get rid off the smell"

"Who are you telling that?" I muttered as I followed the wild elf's example. The water was icy, dark and the ground underfoot slimy. I held my breath and ducked under water, rubbing dirt and blood out of my hair. The past year had consisted of this, hellish cold baths taken only out of necessity, fighting dirt and smell without soap and towels. I knew I took it with ill grace, but the image of a hot tub loomed enticingly before my inner eye. Bearclaw had more practice. He methodically cleaned himself off, tore the soaked bandaged off his arm and rubbed the wound clean without so much as a grimace.

"Hot bath" I muttered "Just think it's hot"

Bearlaw heard me and laughed, wading towards the bank "Oh don't talk about it. I can't even remember what it feels like"

I left the lake as well, casting about for something to use as a towel, not wanting to climb back into my clothes dripping wet. Well, it was wind-drying again.

"Look here" Bearclaw said as I sat down awkwardly "Main thing you'll learn with us is this: forget about modesty. There's no way you can keep that up anyway. So move over here and give me a hand with this cursed bandage, yes?"

"Right" I obeyed, more than from force of habit and awkwardness than anything else "If you order everyone about like that I see why Glorfindel's nobles aren't fond of scouting with you" I said grumpily, covering my embarrassment quite nicely, I thought.

"Ah, but I'm not" Bearclaw grinned "Only you. Because you're just smart enough not to take offence"

"Oh, so I am?" I tied the rag around Bearclaw's arm and grimaced sardonically "What're you up to?"

"Huh, sharp one, yes?" Bearclaw craned his head to look at me "First of all, get your hackles down. I'm not in for flirts, least of all with males. Second, that's the way we do things – if you ever stay with us, you'll see. Not all of us are lucky enough to have a partner in this life, so the group covers" He stretched unconcernedly "Thank you. Now, I would offer you help with that mane of yours, but I suppose that's private or mate business with your people, right?"

I stared at the dark pond for a moment. He set a rapid pace, that one. Silmarusse would have liked him. And hell, she had always been right. Bearclaw was right.

"Yes. But as you observed, not all of us are blessed with a partner. Go ahead, but don't complain about going handmaid"

Bearclaw laughed "Handmaid, hardly. I tell you, it's impossible to keep taking shifts at the water-hole, better get used to it at once. Don't have a comb, do you?"

Smiling, I shook my head. Well, not what I had expected the wild elf to be like, but really – what had I expected?

"Don't get your hopes up, I'm not a good shot at this kind of handiwork" Bearclaw said, fighting with the numerous knots. He shoved the damp mass of hair over my shoulder to start with one side "And I'll want compensation. Huh" he added, tapping his fingers lightly on an old scar "Not the greenhorn you look to be, really"

"I look like a greenhorn?" I laughed "That's news to me"

"But you do" Bearclaw teased "Just like a moment ago, going blanch on me thinking I was courting"

It was too tempting not to join the banter "Who said that was because of the fact? It's not unusual. Maybe it was because of you"

"Ah yes, Old Bearclaw would not make a cuddly mate, I suppose. But I didn't know it was fine among your people – quite some of us got in trouble because of just that taste"

"Ha, old Bearclaw. I bet you're half my age"

"Yes I fear so" Bearclaw agreed comfortably "But really, it's easier to find partners on the male side than a lady. And we hardly get a chance to flirt with non-outlaws"

"Well, my lady would have liked you" I said without thinking, then stopped myself, shocked that I would say this to Bearclaw. It was just not – proper.

To hell with proper. He had made me talk about her and smile at the same time. Valar's grace, I should be grateful no end! She had always asked me to-.

"Well, she must have been a crazy one then, if you think she'd have had a knack for an outlawed killer" Bearclaw grinned.

"She was crazy" I stated with another laugh that surprised myself "She took me"

"Hum" Bearclaw sobered a little "I'd say she had good sense, though. I wish I could have met her"

"Yes. So do I" I muttered. Despite his denial, Bearclaw had deftly worked his way through the tangles and re-braided my hair. I sat down behind him to take my turn.

"She was your lady's horse, wasn't she?" Bearlaw said after a moment silence, nodding his head slightly towards Faire, who stood half asleep beside his own brown horse.

I frowned "Why do you think that?"

"Well, she is a lady's horse. Looking too slight to stand a long chase, not to mention a fight -and no one but a lady would have acknowledged her suitability to both and had the guts to train her for fighting. Your lady had, and she left her for you. Your in luck, because you're still just within the size and weight for her. That's what I'd say just looking at her"

I licked my lips and concentrated on fabricating a neat, firm braid. Bearclaw's hair was shorter than mine, and all of different lengths, so I had quite some time capturing all stray strands.

"Yes" I said finally "I suppose you're right. Still, she could have been anybody's, don't you think?"

"No" Bearclaw said firmly "The way you treat her, she almost is your lady. And she is a hell of a fighter. No, you two are just a bit too good to be just horse and rider by ways of a good deal. My -" he felt the tight braid "That's no-nonsense stuff. That should hold till the binding rots off"

"Not so bad" I smiled and stretched as well. My shoulder was throbbing "So what is the plan, master scout? We are dry now"

Bearclaw smirked "First we get dressed. See, greenhorn" he added with satisfaction "You do blush"

I shook my head in exasperation and turned to pick up my clothing. Bearclaw looked away into the night for a moment "We should go back and report. That is, go back quick and keep to both sides of the old trail again. So no rest tonight"

I nodded, pulling on my clothes and wishing I had brought a spare set. Well, after this year I should be used to both – dirty clothing, and riding after a bone-wrenching fight.

"The others should have returned before us by then. If their spaces are clear, we can concentrate on bringing the caravan through this funnel double quick" I said, trying to ignore the insistent voice telling me gleefully, no, you damn well won't.

Bearclaw snorted "And even double quick, that's not fast enough"

Chapter notes:

Lamandil: (Q) "animal-friend"

Mithfaun: (S) "white-mist cloud"

Macar: (Q) "sword-fighter"

Leucalinde: (Q) "snake-singer"

Morcollo: (Q) "black cloak"

Nandaro: (Q) "harper"

Rastatinwi: (Q) "twelve stars"

Rhevain: (S) plural of rhavan, "savage" ((Q) ráva "wolf").

- I wonder if there were full-blooded outlaws among the elves who were turned out of whatever community they had belonged to for severe crimes. There were certainly outcasts, especially elves who had escaped slavery in Angband. For this story I assume that there were enough outlaws/outcasts of all elven 'races' that they formed their own, loose community and with some cynicism adopted the name given to them. The dialect they use among themselves I call 'rhevain' as well (as in Avarin, Noldorin etc. – if you know what the proper name for that language should be, please tell me).

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