Chapter Three

January 28th
Daybreak
The Burping Troll

Landis yawned. He had agreed to be the one to stand watch for the Rohirrim woman, and now was struggling to keep his eyes open. Early rising was not one of his own bad habits, but this was a chore that could not be trusted to Grady. The sound of a door clicking shut in the hallway and soft footsteps going down the stairs brought him wide awake. He peered carefully out the window down to the ground. Darien had figured this would be the way she would go to the barn, but so far no sign of her. Had it even been her? At least dawn blushed red in a clean-washed sky, so perhaps they would get a reprieve from the rain today.

After standing ready for close to fifteen minutes, Landis was beginning to slip back into a doze. The door almost directly below him opened and closed, and Landis watched the woman from Rohan make her way toward the barn. 'The Ranger was right. A hard habit to break.'

Landis gave Darien a nudge bringing the man instantly awake. Jerking his head toward the window, Landis said, "She's gone out to the barn. Alone, far as I can tell."

Darien pulled on his leggings and tunic quickly. "We can only try. There are far too many folk around here for anything else. Even if I agreed with Grady's suggestions."

Landis rubbed his hand through his beard. "Aye, and all protective of each other they are."

The significance of a perimeter check by a Ranger last night and that the woman was not to go unaccompanied had not been lost on the men. Nor had the stout bars on all the doors and the sturdy shutters across the windows. These folk may be peaceful enough but it did not appear that they were foolish. Perhaps a bit of guile would work instead.

From the conversation he had overheard in Henneth Annûn, Darien knew that this trading of stones was something new. Perhaps the woman would be willing to allow someone more experienced in such trades to accompany her. He had been prepared to set the groundwork for such an offer last night, then the woman had taken offense and marched away. Darien gave a sour look at Grady's still sleeping form. If only the fool would follow orders.

xxxxxx

Making a show of conversation as they approached, so not to frighten the woman, Darien and Landis entered the barn and found the trader woman pushing a half-laden wheelbarrow down the center aisle. The blank stare she gave them seemed to offer little chance of success for their strategy, but ever hopeful, Darien sketched a slight bow.

"Good morning," Darien smiled, but received only a small nod in response. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, he continued, "I had hoped to find you this morning."

Sev leaned the shovel and rake against the nearest stall and said, "Really? And for purpose would you be looking for me?"

"To offer my apologies if anything my companions or I said offended you in anyway." Darien smiled wryly.

"He spoke the truth as he sees it," Sev said noncommittally. "But that does not mean that I must listen to it." Sev waved a hand toward the stalls. "I am busy gentlemen. If there is nothing you need, I would like to get back to my work."

Landis said, "Your work?"

Sev arched an eyebrow. "Aye, sir. My work. All of us work at what needs to be done. And who better than I to care for the barn? Surely, you don't suggest the balrog?"

"To be truthful, madam, I have yet to see the balrog." Landis' eyes twinkled.

"Do you doubt his existence?" Sev's eyes glittered as she lifted a hand to pat the equine head that appeared over the stall door looking about inquisitively. "I give you my word he does."

"Very well, we will accept your word about the existence of the balrog if you will accept ours that we knew nothing about Grady approaching you in Henneth Annûn and that he has been warned to keep his distance," Darien said firmly.

Sev snorted and stared at the two men for a long moment. Seeing nothing in their manner but sincerity and perhaps some slight embarrassment over the behavior of their companion, Sev nodded slowly. "Very well. I will believe you."

"Good," Darien smiled broadly. "Then that gives me the opportunity to present a plan that I think will profit all of us."

"And what might that be?" Sev said warily. A handsome face and a handsome smile did not mean she would immediately hand over her trust.

"As I said last evening, I am a trader in gemstones." He inclined his head in a brief bow of acknowledgment, one businessperson to another. "It is my understanding from comments I heard here at the inn that you are new to the gemstone trade."

Sev nodded once. "And your point?"

"Perhaps you might be willing to introduce me to your clients and I could handle the trading for you." Sev opened her mouth to speak and Darien continued in a rush," Of course, you would still receive a percentage of each trade."

Sev eyed the men suspiciously, but saw little to cause her to mistrust that they were what they said they were. There remained only the possibility that they were canny enough to consider edging her out of the business entirely - since she was, after all, only a woman.

Slowly she replied, "You would do all the work and yet give me a percentage? Why?"

"They were your clients first. And if I read the situation correctly, you are the only one who knows where they live."

Sev did not deny this, though in truth she knew little more than the hobbits. "Out there, somewhere" was all that she knew as well. The orcs met with her in the trading glen and that was about all she was willing to do at this point. Sev gave a small shudder at the thought of what an orc's den would look like.

"Nay. Celebsul does. He visits Gubbitch occasionally."

"Celebsul?"

"The tall silver haired elf. He knows all of their holes and such. "

"Ah, but he has no interest in gems or trading, does he?" Darien's eyes twinkled, as if sharing the absurd humor of anyone not interested in making a profit.

"No," Sev replied. "He does not."

"Which leads me back to you," Darien said. "You know where they live, and further, it is you they trust. I know the wide world has little sympathy for their kind, so they would not deal with just anyone. Am I correct?"

"Yes." Sev knew that although Gubbitch enjoyed the easy familiarity of the Burping Troll, it was probably the only place in Middle Earth where he could freely mingle with races once his enemy. She could not imagine him easily trusting strangers in any business, once outside those walls.

"That is why we need you," Darien said, and cocked his head as he raised his eyebrows in entreaty. "Heaven knows we could rove these hills for weeks and they would never even let us see their faces. Without you, there would be no dialogue, no trade. With you, we would do the work, but their confidence in you is our contract. Now do you understand?"

Sev studied the man with narrowed eyes, glancing briefly at Landis, who simply watched with mild attentiveness. "You are saying that my good will and their confidence would be worth your keeping me in partnership?"

"Exactly. And your percentage could of course be increased if profits prove high."

"We're not talking diamonds and rubies here, but lesser stones."

With a soft snort of laughter, Darien said, "Madam, there are far more vain and silly people willing to buy bright baubles and pretty stones than there are who can afford a true king's treasure."

"I'll think on it."

"Beg your pardon?" Darien found himself staring at the woman's back, as she turned and picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow.

"I said I will think on it." She pivoted the wheelbarrow to face them. "Plus I would need to confer with my ... clients ... before I agreed to anything. Now if you will excuse me, I need to empty this."

Muttering a vague acknowledgment Darien stepped aside, and stood silent as the woman trundled her laden barrow out the door and into the newly risen sun. Beside him Landis stirred.

Quietly he said, "You know we don't have time for this, Darien."

"I know." Darien bowed his head to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed. "When was the last time you stood and listened to me mouth such a pack of lies?"

With a sympathetic frown, Landis said in a low voice, "Can't be helped, Cap'n. So, what now? We could just follow her and see where that gets us."

"Yes, I think that's our best course. We'll have to be wary of her elf, but after all -." Darien grimaced in an expression of disgust. "We're just traders bound for the Dwarves in the Ash Hills. Come, let's kick Grady out of bed."

xxxxxx

Early Morning
Henneth Annûn

The morning was dawning gloriously crimson and gloriously muddy, but Elros had hope that perhaps he could make the six-hour ride home before the rains returned again. As he yawned over a hot cup of tea and the remains of his breakfast, he was at least thankful that, despite whatever official Ranger muckety-muck kept his captain here another day, he himself would escape. He had reminded Halbarad of that only moments ago, too, and Elros grinned to himself at memory of the unkind gesture Halbarad had given him on his way out the door.

"Who is she?"

"Good lord!" Elros' chair flipped over with a crash as he sprang away from the sudden voice at his ear.

He spun to face a wry grin that turned into a full-face smile and grey eyes that laughed though the man himself did not.

"Anardil!" Elros exploded. "You nearly stopped my heart! And what 'she'?'"

Anardil chuckled as he bent to right the fallen chair; the left side of his cloak falling forward over the emptiness of the sleeve pinned there. "A man smiling by himself first thing in the morning, I'd guess it was a woman."

Still waiting for his heart to resume a normal pace, Elros snorted and shook his head. "No woman, just Halbarad bemoaning the call of duty."

"Ah. Where is Hal?" Both men took seats at the table, and Anardil nodded to the serving girl's questioning glance.

"In council." Elros pulled a face. "You just missed him. Lord Faramir is here and seems intent on using this beastly weather as an excuse to hammer out every bit of tedious bureaucratic planning he can think of for this area. Thus, our captain is captive for another day, but I am free to go. When did you get here?"

"Late last night, actually. Sevi was kind enough to arrange transport for my things through her cousin's freight company, and I rode up with it."

"You're here now? You've moved up?" Delight danced in Elros' eyes as he clamped his fingers about his old friend's arm.

"That I have." Anardil twisted his wrist to return the clasp warmly. "I have bid farewell to Pelargir - and to Harad - and so I have come."

"Wonderful!" Both men glanced up as the girl set down an extra mug and a full teapot, then left with a smile. "Do you have some time, then? Have you any immediate duties or missions?"

Since the loss of his arm in the battle at the Black Gates, and his subsequent resignation from the Rangers, Anardil had found other ways to serve his people and his king. If he could no longer serve by strength of arms as a whole man, then he would use his wits. So it was that he entered private service for King Elessar, drifting often into other lands as eyes and ears for the crown, a silent, unnoticed face that heard much and spoke little. Of late, however, there were certain chieftains of Harad who had developed unhealthy suspicions about the crippled ex-soldier said to be roving in their midst and thus Anardil had been removed from all assignments there. His eyes now would turn to Rhûn and lands to Gondor's eastern borders. Meanwhile, however...

"No, for now my time is my own," Anardil replied. "If this blessed rain never lets up, I think we need not fear what any enemy might be planning, for he will be as buried in mud as we are. I wondered if our wagon would bog to the axles yesterday, the road was so bad."

"Aye, it has rained all week," Elros said with a grimace, which then morphed into a sly grin. "Then I suppose you won't want the mud and mess of riding up to the Troll with me, eh? Maybe you'll wait a few days until the roads dry out a little?"

The look Anardil gave him said just how asinine he thought that idea was, and Elros laughed aloud. Indeed, he doubted that anything short of a six-day blizzard would keep Anardil from his reunion with their Rohirrim healer, Sevilodorf.

One eyebrow rose as Anardil said, "And I suppose you want to be the one to explain to Sevi why I failed to pay my respects in a timely fashion?"

"Not I," smiled Elros, and then followed his next thought. "Say, do you have a place to keep your belongings? We could store things at the Ranger barracks here until you find permanent lodgings."

Anardil did not fail to note the sudden proprietary "we" in that, and chuckled. "For now my few possessions are safe in the freight company tack room. All I really need is a change of clothes and a shave."

"And breakfast! I'm buying."

With a lopsided grin Anardil replied, "And I'll let you."

Clinging clouds already huddled against the craggy flanks of the Ephel Dúath, by the time the two men trotted north out of Henneth Annûn. Hoof beats thudded wetly and fog drifted in gauzy scraps of white low against the treetops as they rode, but even if the blue sky turned to grey altogether, Anardil's mood would not be dampened. Almost four months had passed since he and Sevi had spoken words of promise to each other, a promise yet undefined by any more than the urgings of their hearts. They had been together only twice in that time, once when her trading ventures brought her to Pelargir, and most recently when he rode north to spend Yuletide with her and his long-neglected Ranger friends. Yet the passing of time only whetted his feelings the keener, and though he was often far away in lands where even the night sky wove different shapes, she was ever in his thoughts. Once a week he had written to her, or if a week must be missed he wrote twice the next time. The letters themselves were of no great import and he was not a man given to the language of romance, but what he hoped was that they held open a window to his life away from her. People he saw, strange animals and fantastic places, things mighty and mundane, all found expression through his pen. To his surprise he found that he enjoyed writing reports that had nothing to do with politics or rumors of war, and that his battle-weary spirit slowly awakened to new wonders in the world, because he looked for them - to share with her.

Now fortune seemingly conspired to bring their paths to at least parallel roads, and for the first time in more years than he cared to count, Anardil found himself anxious as a boy. All his adult life he had struggled to shun matters of the heart, for he knew too well the anguish visited upon those left to mourn their Ranger dead. He and Elros, Hal and Bob had sworn years before that they would take no wife to be left as widow. Then Sev swept into his life on a whirlwind of fate, and the thought of losing her overrode all other fears.

"Don't bungle this," he whispered to himself. "This is your one chance, don't botch it."

Trotting beside him Elros heard the faint syllables, though not the words, but he could imagine the thoughts on Anardil's mind.

"If the weather holds and we don't delay," he said, "we should be there just after noon."

Anardil only nodded in acknowledgment, but his one-sided smile threatened to become a permanent fixture on his face.

xxxxxx

Midmorning
Burping Troll

"Let's go," Darien murmured as Sev's cart disappeared from sight.

Grady and Landis followed their leader to the horses, which stood already saddled at the rail near the corral. The hope a clear sunrise had brought seemed dashed by the grey clouds gathering against the mountains, but the weather was of little importance. Landis paused only a moment to stuff the napkin-wrapped biscuits he had requested from the hobbits as an excuse for a delay into his saddlebags; then mounted and followed the other two out the north gate of the Burping Troll.

Opportunity had knocked and they would not be laggard in greeting it. During breakfast they had overheard a fragment of conversation indicating that the woman's elven companion would be delayed. Indeed, the bright-eyed elf had been nowhere in evidence as the woman completed her chores, readied her cart and harnessed her horse. First slowly saddling their own mounts and then lingering as long as possible over their breakfasts, the men had watched with carefully concealed pleasure as, with sharp gestures of annoyance, the woman paced from common room to kitchen to upstairs and back to stare morosely out at the clouds gathering against the slopes of the Ephel Dúath. Finally, just as they were running out of credible excuses for delay, she had snapped to whoever was in the kitchen, "Tell Aerio I will meet him at the lightning oak" and then stormed off to the barn and hooked horse to cart. Thank Eru, for the impatience of women.

"Now remember, we simply follow her," Darien said firmly with a stern look in Grady's direction. They had allowed the woman and her cumbersome cart to leave some twenty minutes or so ahead of them, for riders would have no trouble closing the distance if need be, but the strategy now called for patience and caution.

"Aye, Cap'n," responded Landis.

"You've gone soft, Darien." Grady's face twisted with disgust. "She's as bad as the filthy creatures she consorts with."

"I said that we are to follow her and that is all," Darien said harshly and pulled his horse across the path of Grady's. "Do I make myself clear?"

Grady met his eyes sullenly. "Aye, you do at that, Darien. But I still say you'll see."

Darien continued to stare at Grady until the other man dropped his gaze. With a nod to Landis, Darien jerked his horse back toward the north. Spurring his mount he moved ahead of the others a short distance. In stony silence they took to the road and let their horses find a leisurely pace. It would not do to seem hasty, should any watch their departure, nor did they wish to overtake the woman too soon. With any luck, they could simply hold back and let her guide them to their target. Then all they need do was go collect the rest of the lads and come back to exterminate some vermin, by which time, with any luck, the woman would be long done with her unholy traffic and safely on her way home. However, the unwelcome thought that Grady would prove correct was still uppermost in his mind when, just at a bend in the road, he caught sight of the woman and her cart stopped on the side of the road.

Raising his hand to signal the others, Darien pulled to a halt and saw that the woman had climbed from the cart. The three men sat motionless behind a screen of bare tangled brush and tree limbs at the road's edge, while the woman bent to cradle her horse's hoof against her knee, evidently working to remove a stone. There was no sign of anyone else, no witness but them and the twisted bare trunk of a lightning-struck oak tree. Then with a flash of red fur, their luck departed.

Two chattering squirrels raced across the road and flicked straight between the hoofs of Grady's horse. It sidestepped away with an explosive snort, and Darien muttered a curse as the woman looked toward the sound. Lowering her horse's leg she returned the pick to her belt and walked toward the center of the road

Grim-faced, she called, "I know you're there. Come out where I can see you."

A whirling sense of déjà vu overtook Darien as he realized those were the same words the orc in the farmer's field had said. Shaking off his disorientation, he urged his horse forward and called up an imitation of a smile.

"We didn't mean to startle you."

Slipping her hand into her sleeve, Sev said with a frown, "You feel spying on a person is better?"

"Once again, I apologize. No offense was meant. Our road appears to run together for a distance. Would you accept our company?"

Sev frowned at the men. Something was not right. Backing away carefully, she shook her head in confusion. Landis and Darien had been up with the dawn, but their departure had been delayed again and again for spurious reasons. Suddenly, Sev understood.

"You're following me."

Pulling a knife from its sheath, she continued retreating until she stood with her back against Dream's flanks. Sev watched with dismay as the three men dismounted and moved to encircle her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose at the sound of Grady's low throaty laugh.

"You think that little blade is enough to stand up against us," Grady said, drawing his sword. "Let me show you a real blade."

"Put that away, Grady." Darien said with impatience. "She's an intelligent woman. She understands there would be no profit for her to stand against us. Don't you?"

"That, of course, depends upon what you want." Sev said focusing her attention on Grady. "If robbery is your goal. I fear you chose a bad day. There's nothing in the back but a bedroll and a few herbal remedies. Take them if you've a mind."

Grady laughed again. "Robbery? No, we have other plans for you."

The color drained from Sev's face. Working to keep her voice steady, she said, "In that case, I think I prefer to fight."

Darien stepped between Sev and Grady. "No, you misunderstand entirely. We do not mean to harm you."

Sev waved her hand toward Grady's sword. "That says differently."

"I give you my word."

Sev fought an almost uncontrollable urge to laugh in his face. "If you mean me no harm and robbery is not your object, what do you want from me?"

"The orcs, madam. We want only for you to lead us to the orcs."

"You hold me at sword point to be led to a group of orcs?" Sev said in disbelief. "What can be so important about them? Surely, this is not merely for the trade of a few stones." Sev narrowed her eyes. "What business do you have with Gubbitch and his group?"

Grady exploded. "The same business we have with all orcs. And will have until their foulness is gone from the earth."

"And you expect me to lead you to them?" Sev looked from one man to the next. "So that you might slaughter them?"

"As they have slaughtered countless men."

"No," said Sev. "I won't."

Grady sprang with his sword raised, only to find his way blocked bodily by Darien, shouting, "NO!"

Sev seized her opportunity and dove under Dream's belly and rolled to the ditch along the side of the road. The wagon creaked as the horse surged forward, then back, confused by the sudden whirl of motion.

As Landis darted forward past the horse's head, he shouted, "Around the back!"

Grady shoved himself free of Darien and raced around the back of the cart to run after Sev. Scrabbling desperately as her feet slid in the mud, Sev fell face down with numbing force. Rolling over in muddy leaves, she slashed out with her knife as two hands seized her shoulders. A sharp gasp of pain gave her a moment of satisfaction, but she was down and there were three of them and she knew there was no way she could win. Her last hope lay in a prayer that Darien was what he seemed to be.

Dropping her knife, she held up her empty hands and cried, "I yield!"

A blade swept down and hovered beneath her chin, the steel seeming to breathe cold like a breeze over ice. Grady's rage-twisted face loomed over her. He reached out a bloody hand and jerked her stumbling to her feet with terrifying strength.

As Darien appeared at Grady's side, Sev gasped for breath and said, "You gave your word."

Grady snarled, "He did, but I didn't, you craven harlot."

Before Darien could even draw breath, Grady threw her back against the nearest tree as if she were a rag doll. Sev's head connected with a resounding thud and her eyes crossed as she staggered then slid to the ground.

The silence that followed fairly echoed, broken only by the rasp of heavy breathing and a rubbery snort from the carthorse. Even Grady seemed briefly taken aback by the result of his temper, but then his scowl returned, as Darien brushed past him.

"Grady," said Darien. "What have you done?" The tall man looked down at the woman, running a hand distractedly though the grey hair at his temple.

For once in his life Grady had the good sense to remain silent, and merely scowled deeper as he sheathed his sword and watched his captain. Darien knelt beside the fallen woman and gingerly laid two fingers against her throat. His expression eased as he looked up at his companions.

"She lives."

Now he reached cautiously around her neck, lightly probing beneath the thick rope of her braid. Then he grimaced at what he found on the back of her head. Looking up again, he held reddened fingers for their scrutiny.

"But she is injured." He stood and studied her prone form an instant, the thought patterns of crisis and command taking over. "We cannot leave her here, and we cannot take her back. If she awoke too soon, she would bring all her strange comrades down upon us, and we are yet too far from our own friends."

"Put her on her horse, I guess," said Landis. "The cart would be much too slow."

"We'll have to." Darien looked at Grady, and there was little liking in his hard gaze. "Gather the horses, if your carelessness has not scattered them all down the road. I will unhook the woman's horse, and then you and Landis will push her cart off the road." As he turned away towards the cart and horse, he said, "Screen it with some brush and let us be gone before that balrog of theirs suddenly comes strolling down the road."

The balrog did not appear, and their horses stood close at hand. Darien began to hope they could at least get back to their camp to rejoin the rest of the men without any further catastrophes. The mare seemed well trained and stood quietly while they unhooked her from the shafts and tied her driving lines up out of the way. But trouble began when Grady was left holding the animal, whilst Landis and Darien saw to the woman's thoroughly unconscious form. Dream did not like the rough-handed man holding her, and she did not understand why strangers in the middle of the road were unhooking her, nowhere near home. Nervously she sidestepped and then tried to back away.

"Hold that horse, for pity's sake!" growled Landis, wondering how a woman whose head scarcely reached his shoulders could suddenly weigh as much as a sack of stones.

Dream blew and flung her head as she backed further. Something was wrong with her human and the calming voice she trusted did not speak. Hard hands yanked on her bit and the mare jumped with a snort, only to be yanked harder.

"Stand still, you!" Grady snarled. "Stand, I say!"

"We can't sit her up," gasped Landis, catching himself as he slipped and nearly pitched himself and the insensible woman into the mud. "We'll have to just throw her over and tie her down, for now."

"Blast!" swore Darien, but he could see no other way.

With Sev slumped limply between them they staggered towards the woman's mare. Dream gave a long, rattling snort and her eyes rolled white as she eyed this strangeness approaching. There was her human, but she smelled of blood and reeked of wrongness, and these men were Not Right, and the ugly man was shouting at her again. Grady gave her another teeth-jarring jerk on the bit and the mare rocketed backwards with hooves scrambling. Bam! She collided with the cart, staggered a leg over one of the shafts, and abruptly Dream had enough. With a whistling snort she leaped forward and right through Grady and was gone in a thunderous spatter of mud.

"ConFOUND it!" shouted Darien.

Landis abruptly found himself with the woman's entire weight sagging through his arms, as Darien wheeled and strode to stand over Grady's now-prone form. As the shave-headed man sat up, Darien stood over him with both fists clenched.

"I trusted you to do a job," he said, and the low voice he forced through gritted teeth silenced any thoughts Landis might have voiced. Instead, he simply watched as his captain glared down at Grady, seething. "I took you into service for your skills as a soldier and because I knew you had what it took to get the job done. But I did NOT expect you to stop bloody THINKING!"

"That blasted horse is as traitorous as its mistress," snarled Grady, and pushed himself to his feet, flinging mud from both hands. "And how in blazes is it my fault if the beast doesn't have a wit in its head?"

"It's not the horse's wit that's at issue!"

"The wench cut me with her knife!"

"After you threatened her with a sword!"

"Did you think she would give up her pretty playmates just because you gave her a big shiny smile?" Grady's face twisted into ugly lines. "She could see through you like a windowpane."

"Hoy!" Landis' sharp voice silenced them both, as he now knelt with the woman draped gracelessly in his arms. "We need to get the cart off the road and we need to get out of here. Unless you want to wait here until any number of her playmates show up."

Darien's breath rasped keenly through his nostrils as he faced Grady once more. "You will not touch her again. You will not provoke ANYthing again. You have driven me to kidnapping an injured woman and that is the last I will tolerate from you. Do you understand? One more mistake and you are no longer with this company."

Grady growled something that may have been a sullen threat to quit anyhow, but it was his eyes that dropped from Darien's hard stare. Then Landis left the woman quietly lain, while he and Grady set their shoulders to the cart, pushing it creaking and lurching off into the brush. Meanwhile Darien stared northward up the road whence the woman's panicked horse had gone, hoping against hope that the foolish creature might be grazing in roadside weeds a few hundred yards away. But of course it was not, and he sighed a growling note. The men he gathered for his purpose could not be gentle nor could they be gentlemen, but for pity's sake, he did expect them to use good judgment. However, the game had changed and he must adapt accordingly.

Moments later they were mounted up, Sev slumped in the saddle before Landis. They swung away from the road and set a course cross-country into the rocks and trees of the tumbled hills. As they went, a drizzling rain began to fall.

Xxxx

TBC ...