Evening
Foothills of the Ephel Dúath

"Captain!"

The sudden shout came from a knot of men deeper in the cave, who had been seeking places to settle their gear. Now one of them held his hand out-stretched and his eyes were huge, mirroring torch light.

Darien strode back to meet them, Landis and Grady at their heels, and Sev felt her stomach sink. Even from where she sat near the front of the cave, she could see firelight wink on small fragments in the man's hand. For a moment jostling dark bodies blocked out Sev's view, as masculine voices rose and babbled in exclamations of, "It's true!" "We're close!" "The orcs really DO have gems!" "Why, that wench knew all along!" "That thing outside ought to be made to talk."

A figure broke away from the group and it was Grady. Sev's breath caught tightly as the shave-headed man strode to her and dropped to one knee, but all he did was hold out one clenched fist. Thrusting it open under her nose, he displayed a small handful of badly broken gemstones, amethyst perhaps, though the dim lighting made identification uncertain. They were worthless, only fragments that the orcs at some point must have tossed aside, but it was enough for Grady.

He leaned towards her with his face framed in an ugly snarl and said, "Now we got proof, witch. You'll lead us to what we want."

Then he closed his fingers, rose, and stalked away. Darien and Landis, who began talking again in low tones, joined him.

Leaning her head once again upon her knees, she watched as Darien, Landis and Grady came to some agreement. That in itself was a frightening situation, for anything that Grady agreed to would involve persuading her or Nik to give more information than either of them possessed. At least, she didn't think Nik knew where Gubbitch and his group had dens, or where they found their gemstones, since the undersized Uruk lived with Russ the Beorning. As Grady marched past her with an unholy glee shining from his eyes, her stomach clutched. Had her hasty words denying further knowledge of any orc dens brought this about? So long as they found her of use as a however-uncertain guide, Nik was safe, but if they began to believe she had reached the end of her usefulness ... She dared not pursue that thought.

Climbing slowly to her feet, she found her way blocked by the young man Neal. Before she had time to do more than glare, Darien appeared and said coldly, "Let her pass, Neal. She deserves to see this."

Neal stepped aside as Darien placed a firm hand under Sev's elbow and steered her to the entrance to the den. Grady and two men she had heard named as Oren and Monroe were untying Nik from the tree. Yet the bonds about his arms and legs remained, and then they dragged him hog-tied into the entrance.

As dread settled in her belly, Sev raised her head to receive the soft kisses of snowflakes on her face. The rain was rain no more. Already the darkness beyond grew lighter as snow frosted the cold ground outside.

"It's time, orc, for you to prove your usefulness." With a flick of his hand, Darien signaled Oren to remove the gag from Nik's mouth.

The little orc spat out the cloth and stood tensed. His eyes shifted from Grady and Monroe, to the knife Oren now held in his hand, to Darien and Sev.

Darien looked down at Sevilodorf, and in the light of a single torch held by the dark man Horus, Darien's features looked haggard, the streaks of grey at his temples more pronounced. There was no gentleness in his handsome face as he said, "Landis informs me that you know of no other orc dens. All day we allowed that weather and your injury inhibited your ability to find them. Yet when it finally suits you, you bring us here - and here we find proof of the orcs' traffic in gems, which can only mean we are very, very close. You, lady, are their agent. You would do well to remember your sources - now."

Striving to delay, yet again, Sev replied in a weak voice, "Honestly, with this blasted headache, I do not know what I know any longer. For all I know they could be right in the next canyon." Sev made a motion into the snow-streaked night."Let us see if we can aid your memory." Darien tightened his grip on Sev's arm and gave a nod to Oren who moved toward Nik. "You have done a fine job this day leading us about by the nose, so in payment, we will take the creature's."

As Sev opened her mouth in protest, Oren's knife flashed then paused, weaving snake-like in front of Nik's face. Though not an intelligent man and a close associate of Grady, Oren owed his main allegiance to Darien. He glanced at his leader now, awaiting the signal for completion of the threat.

Darien turned an impassive gaze first on Sev, then on Nik. "I don't mind which of you tells me, but if either of you knows of the location of the orcs, you had better speak quickly. If neither of you knows, then say so, and this creature can have a clean death rather than endure further torment. I will hear the truth. You have ten seconds."

Sev stared at Nik. There was no way that she could see out of the situation; the truth was a death sentence for the little orc, if indeed he knew it, and further unconvincing lies would result in him being horribly injured, again and again. The next thing nearly caused Sevilodorf to jump out of her skin. Nik flashed her a quick grin. Then he winked.

Darien stared in amazement at the impudent creature, then his face hardened. "Wipe that smile off his face, Oren."

"NO!"

Sev's shout rang as the man with the knife grinned savagely but, even as she lunged against the hands that held her, an arrow thudded into the ground at Oren's feet. Oren leapt behind a boulder, but Grady grabbed the uruk and hauled him towards the back of the cave.

"Landis," Darien shouted. "Get her inside, out of the way!"

Sev found herself nearly swept off her feet in the rush back into the cave, while other men ran towards the entrance, weapons bristling. Three archers fell to one knee with arrows nocked as desperate eyes peered out into the snowing night. Silence. Thickening white flakes began to swirl in from the night beyond.

Then a clear voice rang out from the darkness beyond the cave, "Harm either of your captives any further and you will answer with your lives. The cave is surrounded and we have you outnumbered. Send out our people immediately."

Darien had heard that voice before, the memory of it jangled with odd clarity, and then he realized: 'The silver-haired elf at the inn - and he regards the uruk as one of their people?' Running a distracted hand through his hair, Darien wondered how many 'people' were really gathered out there.

He shouted a reply, "The woman is safe. She was knocked out by accident in the road and we could not just leave her there. She will remain safe if you withdraw and

let us finish our business here." The threat was veiled, but it hit home.

"And what is your business?" the same voice asked.

Darien stood silent. He had seen and been through much. More than he cared to remember, although nightmare visions still often tore him from sleep in a cold sweat of horror and regret. And he had always, always been on the right side, the good side, defending and avenging those who had no power to fight back. But now, now he wasn't so sure. Darien turned to look at those behind him. They were as uncertain as he was. There was something horribly skewed in events that could bring them to facing elves across bows and blades, whilst holding prisoner among them a woman who should have been one of those they all fought to protect.

He latched onto the only thing that made any sense. Orcs. Orcs were evil. Period. Therefore, anyone who associated with them had to be evil as well. The wizard Saruman, Wormtongue the false councilor of Rohan's late king, the Wildmen, the Haradrim, Southrons, everyone who had ever been associated with such creatures had always been on the wrong side. There was no getting around it, and no forgiving of lives ruined and homes destroyed by the forces allied with Shadow. But then there were the elves. In all his life he had never heard of any Elf anywhere ever even associating with the enemy, much less being in league with him. But they were a strange folk and who really understood them? Could it be possible?

"My business is that of every right-minded man," Darien shouted, and as he spoke he felt the power of his convictions flood and strengthen him. "To rid the world of the evil that has plagued it since time began. We are not your enemies. It is insanity that men or elves would fight each other over the vermin that we fought alongside each other to destroy. The war may be over, but such creatures still ravage the lives of thousands. These men follow me because we came home from war only to see my lands, their homes pillaged by raiding orcs and our families slaughtered!"

Silence - they were thinking on his words. That was a good sign. Maybe they would see sense. Neal eased up beside him with his sling ready, and Darien whispered, "Can you make out where they are and how many?"

The youth shook his head, "I think they are hidden amongst the rocks and trees. The snow is getting thicker. I have seen no movement."

Darien tilted his head as an unknown man's voice, edged with fury, demanded, "If you are not enemies, send out the woman."

"If I could, I would," Darien shouted back. "But she is our guarantee that you will not attack. Leave us in peace and I swear she will be returned to you unharmed."

"Return her to us unharmed," the voice replied, "and we will leave you in peace!"

Within the cave, Sevilodorf lifted her head in disbelief. That was Anardil's voice. She must be suffering from wishful thinking, for she could not imagine that he had come from Pelargir already, let alone become part of this debacle.

Seeing the hope that she could not hide surge within her, Landis remarked, "Someone important to you?"

Dampening her feelings, Sev glared up at the man.

"Good. Then you are important to him and much more valuable. Perhaps we all will live through this."

Sevilodorf turned her face for Landis to see the bruise created earlier by Grady's harsh blow. "I would not count on that, Landis. Payment for even the tiniest scrape and bruise suffered by Nik or myself will be demanded. Your best option is to go out right now and throw yourself on their mercy. And I warn you, the worst of your enemies has not yet appeared."

Landis looked from the battered orc to the woman. In league with the dark forces they were. What else would come to their aide?

xxxxxx

Sev was alive, and for the moment unharmed. Anardil drew grim satisfaction from that, and from seeing that brief flash of her Rohirrim mettle, even if it was in the runty orc's defense. If nothing else, he was certain she had not made her captivity easy on her captors. What wrenched his nerves tighter now was their captain's assertion that Sev was held as hostage against attack. The logic in that became seriously flawed in his mind, when balanced against the fact that Sev's abduction was the reason any attack might occur. Why, then, would they not simply turn her loose and rid themselves of their own peril? Celebsul had said the men expressed interest in gems, which could only mean they now sought the gems that Sev traded from the orcs, and thus this mad chase about the wilds of far Ithilien. And that, Anardil realized grimly, had to be the real reason they would not set Sev free. They still believed she could lead them to riches, and felt themselves strong enough and secure enough to withstand any assault from her friends. Worse yet, they were clearly willing to risk it.

"Leave you in peace?" This time it was Elros' strong voice that rang across the clearing. "You claim that you work to rid the world of evil, but I see precious little decency in men who carry an injured woman miles into the wilderness in a pouring rain, instead of returning her home!"

"That was not our intent!" The captain's voice drifted sharply through the swirling snow, as he stood with firelight behind him. "I swear to you it was a mistake and one I deeply regret. Our quarrel has never been with any right-thinking person, and I have never before been at cross-purposes with any man or woman of Rohan."

"Then send her out to us!" Elros' tone took on a raw edge, as cold necessity shaped for him an ugly vision of things to come. "For pity's sake, man, don't compound your wrongs. You do not know what you face."

Nearby a heavy dark form shifted with glinting eyes, and Warg's growl rumbled softly as she listened. Anbarad whispered softly to her, while Firnelin and Gambesul exchanged amused smiles. Indeed, they did not know.

"Sorcery, I'd wager!" That shout burst from the shave-headed man, who had returned to the cave mouth after bundling Nik out of sight. "What else is it that drives a woman to traffic with such filth, and not a one of you to gainsay her? She cut me rather than give up her foul pets - and she defends them yet! What say you to that?"

"I say you err more grievously than you know," Elros replied harshly. "I am Elros of the Ithilien Rangers, here with my comrades and friends. You trespass upon our duties and you have broken the peace we keep here."

Silence. Anardil could hear a shocked mutter of voices within the cave. But then the shave-headed man shouted again.

"Peace? I say it is a peace bound by sorcery and foul arts! There is no peace where one orc is left alive, and there will be no peace until every last one of them is dead, dead, dead! There is no law against that!"

"But there is against kidnapping!" Elros shot back. "And you, sir, have kidnapped a lady of Rohan within the realm of Gondor, and offended the laws of TWO kingdoms!"

Anardil was startled to see the captain yonder suddenly seize the bald man by the front of his coat, but whatever words they exchanged were too low for human ears. Beside him, however, the elf Aerio chuckled softly.

Sensing Anardil's curious look, Aerio whispered, "Their captain fears the hairless one will get them all killed with his mouth."

Pushing the bald man from him, the captain turned to look outwards again. "I say to you again, we dare not let her go. Though it goes against my every instinct to mistrust either men who claim to be Rangers or the Fair Folk who side with them, I will not leave my men vulnerable to treacheries I cannot foresee. The woman stays, though I give you my word she will not be harmed."

"Further harmed," Anardil growled under his breath.

"Your word?" This time it was Bob's hard voice, somewhere among dark trees to the left. "The word of a kidnapper? The word of a man who lied that he was a trader in gems? You hold her in bonds because you think she can lead you to some fantastic treasure!"

"I did not lie!" the captain replied strongly. "If the orcs have gems, then they are spoils of war, and I will indeed use them in trade! Long I have funded our work from my own coffers, and I would be a fool to pass up the chance for recompense."

Fury swept over Anardil in a scalding flash, and he launched his own words across the deadly space between. "Then you are thrice a fool, if you think we will allow you to use her as a guide in your private war! I will see you dead before you ever put her in such danger again!"

Silence. Snow drifted in grey, half-seen flakes that brushed the skin with icy touches.

"How can I trust any offer you make?" came the captain's query. "If we send the woman out, and keep her pet orc, will you let us go? Will you take her and leave us to our business?"

Anardil awaited Bob's or Elros' reply ... and none came. A twig snapped, then he heard Bob and Elros muttering together just beyond his hearing. Cold astonishment seized him as he realized there was actually reason for debate in their minds.

"Elros!" he hissed. "For the love of mercy, tell him yes!"

"Dil, we've got to talk them into giving up entirely," came Elros' low reply. "It's a death sentence for Nik, as soon as she's gone."

"Who cares!" The words burst from him without thought, fueled by blind desperation. "Blessed heaven, Elros -!"

"Then I have your answer," the captain called into the stillness, and a tone of finality chilled his words. "You are indeed in league with forces of darkness. The woman stays, until you leave and our task is through."

"Elros!" Stealth be damned, Anardil exploded from his place and scrambled urgently to Elros' side. "What are you doing? Elros, they'll get her killed - even if they don't raise a finger themselves, they'll get her killed! Those are orcs - orcs! I don't care if they are tame enough to trade with, once those fools over there find the trouble they're looking for, what orc ever spawned will spare one human life among a company that's trying to kill them?"

Somewhere to one side he heard a scuffing step, and knew without looking that at least some of the orcs accompanying them must have heard him. Yet too clearly he could imagine the savage, no-quarter battle that would explode once those men engaged the orcs as they intended. Indeed, in the dark of these hills might be untold scores of Gubbitch and Hooknose's kindred who did not share their odd brand of domestication, and it froze his heart to think of Sev's fate if she were caught amidst warfare between races whose enmity spanned millennia.

"It won't happen, Dil," said Elros. "We'll get her out of there, I swear it."

Bob's shout shocked the stillness again. "Your task is already through! I call upon you in the name of the King to lay down your arms and release your prisoners. All of them!"

"I cannot," the distant captain replied. "I am sorry for the woman's involvement. But my men look to me to keep them alive, and I will not give in to whatever sorcery grips this place. I am sorry, sir. Our battle is with orcs, the foul creatures who destroyed countless lives and left homes and families in ruin, not Rangers or Elves. I pray you will find the good sense to let it remain so."

Silence again, then yet another voice called out, gravelly and harsh. "Tha wants orcs. Well ah'm leader of orcs round 'ere. Let Sev out an' ah'll be tha captive instead."

Anardil turned his head in utter shock. Gubbitch the orc, ugly and malformed and inscrutable as all of his kind, had just volunteered his life on Sev's behalf.

xxxxxx

"I see him," Neal whispered, and the men in the cave gasped as proof of that croaking voice came to view. The silhouette of a small, gnarled creature standing on a boulder many yards away was darkly visible against the dim, growing blanket of new snow.

With both hands embedded in the hair at his temple, Darien struggled to make sense of this; an orc offering himself to orc-killers for the sake of a human woman? This was madness reversed. What so-called evil enchantment would want such an action? There was something here that he could not grasp. However, his own logic told him clearly that there would be no attack while he kept the woman, but there might well be if all that was at stake were two orcs.

"Cap'n," said Landis. "I don't know what to make of that, I've never heard the like, but we dare not risk it."

"I know, Landis, I know."

Glancing aside at Grady, who stood scowling out into the dark, Landis said more quietly, "We're in a ticklish spot, cap'n, no question about that. But if we use our heads we can still sort this out with no further harm done. They are strange folk yonder and perhaps not to be trusted, but they chose talk as their first weapon, which bodes well for us."

Darien sighed as he let his hands drop to his sides, and cast Landis a grateful look. As ever, his old comrade's good sense shone a light in a morass of dire uncertainties, and he was perhaps right. The people facing them in the wood, however bizarre a company they might be, had not yet shown themselves to be anxious to spill blood or come to blows. Indeed, they could have simply shot from the dark the moment they arrived and half of Darien's company would now lie dead or wounded, but they had not. True anger came only from the unseen man whom Landis suspected belonged to the woman, but the others spoke only of duty and fears for the woman's safety. And yet such fears might be the only reason why they did not attack. If he let her loose, would these strangers simply walk away. He had grave doubts.

"We will bide a while yet," Darien said. "Let the next move be theirs. Without fire or shelter, the cold and the snow will work against them, and we have good stone at our backs."

xxxxxx

No reply came to Gubbitch's offer. Things were at a stand still. Anardil sat beside Elros now with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Elros looked aside at his old friend in the dark, but could offer nothing beyond the dubious comfort of shoulder touching shoulder.

"What are they willing to die for, Elros?" the one-armed man asked in a muffled voice. "Are they so greedy for orc gems? Or is their hatred for orcs that strong?"

"No one needs to die here, Dil," Elros replied quietly. "That's what we're trying to prevent."

"Aye, but do they agree? They are of two minds over there, as we've seen in the captain and the bald-headed one." Anardil raised his head to peer through the murky flicker of falling snow towards the fire-lit arch of the cave across the clearing. "Fear and intolerance are ugly masters, and may overthrow reason."

"Dil." Elros reached to clasp Anardil's arm, his fingers closing in an iron grip. "If you trust nothing else, trust the eyes and the arrows of our elven friends."

Anardil nearly came out of his skin when a face suddenly leaned at his other shoulder. He only remembered to breathe when he recognized Anbarad's dim silhouette, and saw a silvery glint of eyes.

"Sevilodorf is ours," came the elf's soft voice, and a silken purr in it prickled the fine hairs on the back of Anardil's neck. "They keep her only a little while - only until we weary of their sport."

Then he vanished, leaving Anardil to try to decide if that was supposed to make him feel better or not. Truly he had learned the mettle of the elves when they had helped rescue Elanna and Anoriath from the raider, Parcus, in Nurn. He would will himself to trust them now.

As the feather-touch of snow drifted around them, Celebsul mulled over the situation, trying to think of words or actions that could move the situation on without anyone getting hurt and … What was that noise?

He looked at Aerio. He heard it too, but his eyes never wavered from the cave entrance. Moving silently toward his apprentice, the older elf asked, "Do you recognize that sound?"

Aerio shook his head. "It's familiar, but I can't place it."

The other three elves also held still, listening, and Warg's sharp ears swiveled in puzzlement.

Celebsul sat and listened for a moment longer, then grinned. "I think I can," he said, as over his head a fat, black honeybee flew past and vanished into the swirling snow.

The thrumming grew louder.

xxx

TBC ...