Chapter Six
Early Afternoon
The Orc Hunter's Cave
In the course of the last two hours, Aerio had considered and rejected any number of elaborate plans for retrieving Sevilodorf. In his observations of the cave and its inhabitants, he had determined that there were no fewer than six men and possibly as many as twelve inside the cave. At least one was always on guard at the entrance, though sometimes there were two. While he had soon come to the conclusion that he would not have to expend a great deal of effort to enter the cave, Aerio had faced the uncomfortable fact that he could not do so with any certainty of locating and removing Sevilodorf without injury. Nothing he had heard or seen thus far indicated these men did more that hold her here. Thus he continued to wait.
A jangle of voices rang from the wood behind him. Only his eyes moved as he looked down to see three - no, four figures lurch from the trees and make their way towards the cavern. Three were Men, two riding, one leading his horse, but the fourth - Aerio's breath caught in a soft hiss of surprise - one was the little Uruk-hai, Nik, bound and bloodied and slung head-down across the back of the led horse. The stakes had just changed.
A cry of greeting from the guard was answered by the foremost of the three riders, the stocky man from the inn last night riding with the slight hunch that Aerio recognized as a man sheltering injured ribs. From the cavern came his two companions, the bald one who had stood glowering at the bar and the tall man who had so intrigued the hobbit lasses. Aerio frowned. He had preferred to believe this was a case of opportunistic robbery gone awry; but their motives now seemed to take a turn to the bizarre. What could they want with a captive orc, when they already had a mortal woman in their clutches? Then cold realization clutched his heart. Greed was the motive, as elementary as that. These men had learned of Sev's gemstone trade with the orcs and now they had two vital game pieces in their cruel hands.
Fingers twitching on the hilt of his saber, Aerio watched as Nik was pulled roughly from the saddle to the ground, and then dragged within the cavern. The only hint that Nik was not dead lay in the fact they found him worth keeping.
xxxxxx
Sev blinked twice just to be sure her eyes were truly open, then with an exasperated sigh sat up to lean back against the wall. Jerking forward as the tender lump on her head met the wall, she accepted the fact that none of it had been a bad dream. That she truly was lying on a blanket in a dark hole, heavens knew where. Testing her memory, she cursed softly at finding the same gaps.
How much time had she misplaced this time? She didn't feel as thirsty as she had when she awoke the first time, so perhaps it had been a shorter amount of time.
This time also she was better able to focus her thoughts and decided that the most important course of action at the moment was retrieving the one blade her captors had neglected to locate. Sev gave a small smile as she pulled up her tunic and shirt and plucked at the threads along one channel of her corset to free the narrow bit of steel hidden there. Should she give them credit for being gentlemen or simply consider them fools for overlooking this particular place of concealment?
The blade was thin, but as beggars should not be choosy, she would count herself lucky to still have it and hope that she would be given an opportunity to use it. Strapping the blade to her arm with more strips of her shirt she prayed that, believing they had already disarmed her, they would not search again.
Unable to sit patiently, Sev pushed her way to her feet. The nausea had gone though she felt a little unsteady. Uncertain whether to lay the blame for that on the darkness or on the lump on her head, Sev made her way around her small cell with a steadying hand firmly upon the earthen walls.
Twice, then three times around paced, each time testing a different portion of the walls, for what little good it did her. Stone and earth and a thin trickle of water. Nothing had changed.
No, wait, that was not true. Returning to the water, she rested her hand in its flow. Surely, it was stronger now than it had been. Kneeling down she found that the small muddy place beneath the water had grown and a small puddle was forming.
Wonderful. Soon the whole floor would be awash. Amazing how a situation one thought could not get worse, suddenly could.
Concentrating of the puzzle of the water, Sev had not realized that someone was fumbling about with the coverings that made the ceiling of her prison. When one corner was suddenly flipped back to reveal a thin stream of light that appeared altogether too bright to her eyes, she was forced to bite down on her lip to hold in a startled cry.
Glittering black eyes set in a dark skinned face studied her expressionlessly. A face she had never seen before. Or at least she did not remember.
"So madam, you are awake," he said with the faint lilt of an unknown accent. "That is well for we have a guest for you to meet."
Sev eyed askance the rope with a sling made from a strip of blanket that he dropped down into the pit. "You are joking, aren't you?"
With a flash of white teeth, the man said, "No, madam, I seldom joke. If you find it any comfort, it is the way you descended."
"I am afraid I don't find that very reassuring." Sev measured the height of the wall with a practiced eye. "If I promise not to pull anyone in with me, couldn't you just find a friend and lift me out?"
"Very well. I will return." The man pulled the rope up, coiled it quickly, and disappeared.
Sev muttered, "It's not like I'm going anywhere."
She took the moments before the man returned to study the hole she was in more carefully. After all, who knows, she might be right back in the dark after meeting this guest.
A faint scuffling overhead disrupted her musings and Sev looked up to find the dark faced man and another, with an extremely bushy beard and the beginnings of two lovely black eyes, leaning over the side with their hands stretched out.
"Your word, madam."
"Of course. Anyway, I am as anxious to get out of here as you are to get me out." Sev reached up and grasped the hands of the two men.
As they lifted her over the edge of the pit, Sev found her view blocked by a collection of packs and supplies. Then as she lifted to her feet she reeled under a wave of dizziness that forced her to grab their arms in support. Pale faced, she closed her eyes and waited for the dizziness to pass. Opening them, she found herself looking into the pale blue eyes of a face she did recognize.
"You? I must be a worse judge of character than I thought," Sev said as she drew herself up and shook free of the support of the two men.
Darien gave a rueful smile. "Your judge of character has been the point all along, madam."
Her head beginning to ache once more, Sev snapped, "Don't speak in riddles. What is it you want? Certainly not to trade for gemstones with Gubbitch." Sev stopped, and stared past Darien to meet bald-headed Grady's glowering face. In her mind, she again saw him with a sword poised to attack. The gray fog shrouding her lost memories parted once more and she heard a voice, 'We want only for you to lead us to the orcs.'
Slowly, she said, "No, I remember now. You followed me. You want me to lead you to the orcs, so that you can slaughter them."
Darien nodded and replied softly, "As they slaughtered so many." In a stern voice, he continued, "You are of Rohan, lady. How can you treat with such creatures? Foul beasts who killed hundreds, nay, thousands of your countrymen."
Memories of the long shadows cast by burial mounds covered in simbelmyne outside the gates of Helm's Deep filled her head and she shouted harshly, "Don't you dare tell me about how many or who orcs kill! I know only too well what the vicious ones can do. But you are wrong about these. They are not like the others."
Grady growled, "Why is that? Because you can make a profit from them? I told you what she was like."
Sevilodorf stood shaking with a fury that stole her voice and left her only able to shake her head in denial.
Darien spoke quietly, with one arm held out to prevent Grady from crowding closer. "Whatever your reasons for protecting these creatures, the time has come for them to pay for what they have done. Will you lead us to them now or must we use other means to convince you of your duty?"
Forcing herself to breathe deeply and speak slowly, Sev said defiantly, "Pay for what? For what they were forced to do under the command of a master more terrible than any of you can possibly imagine? Do what you will, I will not lead you to them."
Darien sighed. Torture was not his way, he preferred clean kills; but if that was what was needed to rid this world of this foulness, he would do it. If he doubted for an instant that his cause was just, he had only to remember Evan screaming in his brother's arms beside the torn body of their mother. Or Landis holding his dead son. Or the reek of burning and cries of pain and grief which were as close as yesterday.
"Carrick, Horus, bring her," he said as he turned on his heel and pushed Grady ahead of him to the main cavern.
Strong arms grabbed her and the dark man and the bearded fellow pulled her after Darien. Torchlight did little to brighten the cavern, but Sev could see grey rain falling steadily beyond the entrance. At first all was a confusion of staring eyes and pale faces. A young boy sat hunched beside a small fire over which a kettle hung. On the other side of the fire, the grey-bearded Landis stood with his shirt off and his arms out to his side as a young man akin in features to the boy wrapped bandages tightly around his torso.
'Cracked ribs,' thought Sev, scanning the room for any other obvious signs of injury, as she was pulled to a halt beside Darien.
Darien motioned to two men who reached down and pulled erect what she had mistaken for a roll of bedding. Sev winced as she realized that the battered and bound creature they held captive was Nik, Russ the Beorning's undersized Uruk friend. This then was the "other means" to convince her to lead them to the others.
"You can't," Sev whispered, staring into Darien's eyes with a mixture of horror and fury. "If you do, how does that make you any better than you believe they are?"
Darien's eyes hardened. "Because they deserve to die and the men they killed did not."
Jerking at the arms which held her, Sevilodorf said, "Who are you to determine that? By what authority do you decide life and death? King Elessar himself has said these orcs are to be left in peace."
A murmur of 'King Elessar' went around the room and Sev saw indecision appear on a few faces. Then Grady stepped forward and slapped her with a force that set her head spinning again. Though Darien seized his arm before he could strike again, Grady's voice rang without hindrance.
"Don't listen to her. Didn't you hear Landis? There's sorcery at work here. Her words merely serve to enchant us and lure us into a trap. You know they will be searching for her, we can't delay. We must force her to show us the way."
Through the renewed pounding of her head, Sev latched onto the words "they will be searching". They would she knew. All of them. With a look toward Nik, Sev felt a faint hope. These men did not know the forces they had aligned against them with such a capture. She might have elves and men searching for her, but Nik would have the bear-man and his animals. How long would it take for them to be found? How long could she delay without bringing about either Nik's death or her own? Forcing her mind to focus, she considered what she could do.
xxxxxx
Nik felt himself being dragged across a rocky surface. He had slipped in and out of consciousness while on his way here, but now began to come more fully aware of his surroundings. The smells of rain, unwashed bodies, stew bubbling to completion and blood were the more overpowering odors, but another fainter odor came to the runty Uruk as he was tossed upon the ground. Immediately a hard kick was delivered to his ribs. He knew this fainter odor, if he could only make his brains work. But his thoughts were disconnected and he could not seem to focus any attention on any one idea before it slipped away. Something flowery, he thought, or perhaps sweet, like the honey that Russ' bees made.
With the thought of Russ, he came completely awake with a soft moan. Another swift kick to his ribs and he lay still again. He had no idea why these men were playing with him, but he did not think he was going to enjoy what was to come. Tensing his muscles, he tested the cords holding his hands bound behind him and those at his ankles and knees. Perhaps he could break them if he had the time; for now however, they and the cloth covering his eyes were sufficient to keep him from striking out as his captors.
Forcing his wandering mind to focus, Nik listened to the voices around him. Eight, maybe nine men were in the room with him. Then, to his amazement, he heard a lighter-timbered voice from farther away that he recognized. Sevilodorf from the Burping Troll. And she was shouting. The only words he could make out were 'orcs kill' and 'wrong.' Angry grief again overwhelmed him at the thought that she could have been involved in his capture. Did she lead these men to him? Had she already led them to Titch and the others?
Hands reached down to jerk him roughly to his feet and forced him to stand. Nik strained once again to hear the voices surrounding him and to his astonished joy he realized that Sevilodorf was arguing with the men, telling them that they were wrong. "- these orcs are to be left in peace -." That brief flare of joy was extinguished at the sharp smack of a blow. As he realized it had been Sevilodorf they struck, Nik struggled against his bonds, only to be shoved to the ground and kicked hard.
A deep voice growled, "So the creature seeks to protect his little playmate. If she won't show us, mayhap he will."
Again Nik found himself hauled roughly to his feet, only this time, hands fumbled at the cloth covering his eyes. Nik blinked rapidly in the torchlight as the blindfold fell away. A double handful of men lined the edges of the small cavern and he snarled though the gag in his mouth prevented any words. Near the center stood another handful, two of which held Sevilodorf tightly between them. Nik watched as she spat in the face of a baldheaded man with half an ear missing and the man's upraised hand was caught and held by a taller man.
"I told you not to touch her again, Grady."
Wrenching his hand free, the baldheaded man said with disgust, "You've gone soft, Darien. Why shouldn't she be made to pay as well? Good men died so the likes of her could live and make pets and playmates of this filth."
Nik's eyes narrowed as the man called Grady turned toward him. A knife suddenly flashed in the man's hand as he drew near, eyes glittering in the torchlight.
"A few slices out of him and she'll tell." Grady ran the knife along the side of Nik's face. "Just so he won't have to suffer so much before we kill him." Grady whirled about and looked at Sevilodorf. "Ain't that right, you whore? You don't want your little pet to suffer now, do you?
With a quick slash of the blade in his hand, Grady carved a thin line down Nik's right cheek. Black blood welled up and ran down his face to soak into the cloth binding his mouth.
A cry from Sevilodorf was cut off as the man Carrick let go her arm and slapped a hand across her mouth. He gave a curse as she bit him, then clamped his hand down more tightly. She tasted copper as his fingers crushed her lips against her teeth.
Shivering from something more insidious than the chill of the cave, Sev could only stare. Then a dark figure moved between her horrified stare and Nik, and Darien again stood before her. Handsome face, dark hair neatly touched in iron-grey, yet his eyes were cold as marbles. Those eyes shifted from hers, nodding to whoever held her, and the bruising hand fell away. However, it resettled with its mate tightly gripping her upper arms. Glancing past Darien she could see that Landis now stood beside Grady and the battered little orc. But while Landis had originally seemed a decent man, she did not dare to think that he would lift a finger to aid an orc.
"Madam," he said quietly. "If you persist in this course, you seal that creature's fate, for if I attempt to intervene I will have a mutiny. Do you understand?"
"Yes, but you're making a huge mistake! That orc is no -."
Darien's hand swept up and her words choked, but there was no blow, simply his rigid forefinger pointing at her face.
"Not another word," was all Darien said and Sev knew that he meant it.
"Now," said Darien. "You will guide us, or that creature will die. Are you hearing me?"
Sev nodded jerkily. 'His name is Nik!' she wanted to shout, but wisely held her tongue.
Leaning closer, Darien spoke with the soft intensity of steel drawn over velvet. "I take no pleasure in tormenting anything, not even those most deserving of death, as that creature's foul kindred are. But I promise you that Grady is not the only man among us who is not so encumbered by scruples."
He paused, and Sev wondered what he could read in her eyes. Rage, frustration, helplessness. Fear.
"I am not a villain, madam," he said softly. "Pray do not make me one."
With that he stepped away, and turned towards the waiting men. " Everyone eat quickly, then get your gear together, be sure you have enough warm clothes. We're moving out."
xxxxxx
Afternoon
Foothills of Ephel Dúath
Sevilodorf's feet slid on rain slick stones, but she flinched away from the arm that reached to set her upright. Giving Landis a glare as payment for his courtesy, Sev held up her bound hands.
Venom dripped from her voice when she asked, "How do you expect me to mount with my hands tied?"
"If you'd not tried to scratch Grady's eyes out, you wouldn't have to be tied, would you?" Landis replied shortly.
"You don't like him any more than I do, and neither does Darien." Sev sniffed and tried to brush dripping hair from her eyes. "Tell you what, give me a sword and five minutes, and we'll all be rid of him."
Landis laughed shortly then clutched at his ribs. "That I would pay to see. Perhaps another day, first we have another matter to attend to."
Looking up at the tall back of the horse before her, Sev shrugged. "With those ribs, I wouldn't advise you trying to toss me up there. I'm not exactly a slim young miss."
"Now that I already know, madam," Landis' rather thoughtless remark earned him another glare. Calling to the bearded man lashing a pack to one of the spare horses, he said, "Carrick, come put the lady in her saddle."
Carrick still nursed the painful pinch of bitten fingers, and he muttered, "She ain't no lady."
That remark earned Carrick not only a glare but a swift kick in the stomach as he tossed Sevilodorf ungracefully atop her horse.
"Enough!" spoke a sharp voice behind her. "Or do I need to remind you the consequences of further such actions?" The coldness of Darien's voice left Sev shaking her head.
"No, I do not need another reminder."
Sev looked over Darien's head to where Nik stood head down. His legs had been unbound so that he might walk at the end of a rope securely knotted about his waist. The other end was tied to the saddle of the man called Oren. Hopefully, she could delay things long enough for someone to track them down.
"And you," Darien moved to stand before Nik. "You understand that if you even try to escape we will kill the woman."
Nik nodded and looked beyond Darien to where Grady now held the lead line for Sevilodorf's horse. That man, Nik decided, would be the first to die, if he had the chance to fight.
Darien frowned as the little Uruk's unfathomable gaze flicked past him - towards the woman. Smothering a frustrated sigh, Darien turned towards his waiting horse. He could not understand how all of this came to pass. How could so much have gone wrong? Landis must be correct. There was some sorcery at work here that spawned unnatural tolerances. It was their own fortune that they remained outside its spell.
Signaling to the others to mount, Darien climbed wearily into his saddle. The incessant rain would make this a miserable operation, but with luck the rain would also delay the search for the woman until the job was done. Nudging his horse alongside that of the woman, he started at the sound of a bird warbling a sweet trill. A bird out in this rain? Even the animals in this place were bewitched out of good sense. A quick glance at the woman showed she had paid the sound no attention, but spent her time glaring at Grady.
Almost he was beginning to believe that Grady had the right of it. She did need to be taught a lesson, several of them actually. A second glance at the long line of scratches on Grady's face convinced him, however, that Grady was not man enough to do it. He had overheard the woman's offer to Landis to rid them of Grady. For the first half mile, Darien entertained himself with pleasant visions of a fiery brown-haired Rohirrim engaged in a battle to the death with Grady. There was little doubt in his mind who would be the victor.
Beneath her dripping hood, Sev raised her eyes and examined the tangle of naked trees framing the trail. She had seen Darien's reaction to the birdcall and deliberately ignored it. But now, with him ahead of her and careful to allow no sign of what she was doing to become obvious, she scanned the trees. That had been Aerio. She was certain of it, for the bird that had sung did not linger here in winter. And if she knew the elf, he was perched somewhere looking down on this odd cavalcade and making elaborate plans to rescue her. Briefly she allowed herself to hope that he would be able to do so, just as he had another rainy day so many months before.
xxxxxx
When the last of the men were out of sight, Aerio dropped silently down from the tree. That Sev's spirit remained undaunted was a vast relief to him, for his keen ears had heard every word and vituperation she had hurled against her captors. He smirked at the remembrance; even if she were not bound to Nik by actual friendship, her fiery temperament would not easily yield to threats and injustice. Indeed, when less-than-gentle hands sought to put her a-horse, she had turned on the one called Grady like a wildcat. Although Aerio regretted that it resulted in her hands being bound, he found himself feeling inordinately pleased that she had so keenly registered her displeasure. A pity she had missed her mark.
Meanwhile, he was reasonably sure that Sev had recognised his signal and would know help was on its way. But was it? He could not single-handedly tackle so many armed men. Aerio left a mark on a smooth boulder to direct those whom he hoped were following. Then, deciding stealth was a better option than riding after the men; he started to run in their wake. And as he did, the young elf calculated distances and times, not liking the resulting solutions. He hoped that the Inn residents had started to worry early rather than late. Aerio reconsidered all that he had heard at the cave. He had a good idea now what the men were seeking, and he knew that Sev would try to mislead them. The critical time factor was for help to arrive before the men realised they were being deceived, or perhaps before they accidentally stumbled upon the orcs.
Glancing southwards, Aerio realised that the latter possibility had a much-diminished ratio. Gubbitch and three of his lads were heading towards him with their usual, untidy shamble. He paused and hailed them with a "Well met!"
"We'd 'ave met a chuffin' lot sooner if tha didn't hide tha signs so well." Gubbitch complained. "Does tha know what's goin' on?"
Aerio rapidly explained everything he knew or suspected, and was relieved to hear that the Burping Troll and Russ had been or would soon be alerted by the orcs.
"Just as well we did. There's not enough of us to tackle s'many men." Gubbitch looked back down the road forlornly. "We were thinkin' it were only three of 'em. Hope Troll comes in force, and reet soon. Sev's risking 'er neck and we're not even there for 'er to protect. Let's go on, anyroad. Ah'd rather face uneven odds than 'ave Sev an' Nik 'urt more than they 'ave been."
xxx
TBC ...