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Chapter 8: Cat and Mouse
"Halbarad!" Aragorn rose to his feet quickly, eager to show Halbarad what he had found. But rising quickly to his feet was a bad idea as it made him extremely dizzy, and he had to steady himself against the rock wall to not keel over. Once his vision had cleared, Aragorn saw that Halbarad had nearly reached his side.
"What is it, Strider?"
A broad grin lit up Aragorn's tired face. "Something that will lift your mood, Halbarad." Aragorn turned around slowly, so as not to get dizzy again, and then gestured at the spot where he had fallen.
Sidling up to Aragorn, Halbarad breathed heavily and gazed at what Aragorn was showing him. "Valar. How did you find that?"
"Luck." Aragorn deadpanned, before he gripped Halbarad's arm and supported him while they made their way down a rocky slope, off to one side of the rock formation. It was only a small slope, barely worth mentioning, and Aragorn would have surely overlooked it, had he not nearly fallen down it.
As it was, his fall had shown him one very important thing. At the bottom of the slope, sheltered and shadowed by the rocks, was a shallow depression…and that was half filled with water.
Gravel littered the slope and it took them a few minutes to reach the ground. Aragorn helped Halbarad to kneel down, one arm pressed against his chest to support his own broken ribs, and then they both drank form the clear water, sating their raging thirst.
"Ah, that felt good." Halbarad sighed and leaned back against one of the rocks that dotted the ground.
Wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, Aragorn nodded. "Aye. A shame we cannot take some of it with us. But at least I can clean your wounds now."
Grimacing, Halbarad gave Aragorn a pained look. "Is that truly necesarry? I mean, look, it nearly doesn't hurt at all."
"Nice try." Aragorn cut some more pieces of cloth from his already tattered cloak, cleaned them as good as he could in the water and then returned with them to where Halbarad sat. "Do you need to drink more? Once I start cleaning your wounds the water will be tainted."
Halbarad waved a hand in the air and placed it then on his belly, "I had my fill. You?"
Shaking his head, Aragorn slowly unwrapped the soiled bandages that wound around Halbarad's leg. The dried blood made the cloth stick to the skin, and soon the water in the small depression was tinted with red blood.
"I cannot see anything in the puncture wounds and the skin does not look inflamed. A small miracle given the state of the trap and our journey." Aragorn knotted the new bandage in place and sat back on his behind.
"Thank you, Strider, it already feels better." Halbarad gave the bandage an experimental tug.
"Hal, I want to apologize. I had no right to…" Aragorn began, but Halbarad interrupted him.
"Its alright. It was not my intention to offend you and I think…maybe we are both not up to our usual selves."
"Aye, maybe." Aragorn said no more, gazing up towards the crest of the slope they had come down. From the look on his face Halbarad could tell that there was more to the matter than met the eye, but he decided to let it rest for now. As hungry, tired and in pain as they both were, they would probably only end up arguing with each other.
Time to change the topic. "So, that plan of yours. When do we set it into motion?"
Aragorn shrugged. "Why not right now? I am sure he watches us. As soon as we exit this ditch, we will start."
Halbarad gave him a lopsided grin. "I hope this works."
"Why, my plans always work out in the end." Aragorn got to his feet and gave his friend a lift up.
"That is what is worrying me, Strider."
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"This is insane." Halbarad muttered under his breath, all the while pressing his body against the ground in the dried out riverbed that he had literally stumbled over.
For the rest of the day and the following night and day, Aragorn and he had made their way eastwards, the rock formation to their left for shelter and protection. The water had revived them greatly, and both felt some of their strength returning.
But, instead of walking faster, they had slowed their pace, resting more frequently and longer than before. At the end of the night they had more stumbled than walked, using the rocks for balance and as a crutch.
In Halbarad's opinion, they had made a good show of two extremely exhausted, hungry, thirsty and generally defeated rangers. The bad things was, that it was not as far from the truth as Halbarad wished it would be. Maybe he was not thirsty any longer, and his hunger had turned to a stomach ache that would vanish soon, but he still felt tired and he was in pain. And he knew that Aragorn was not feeling any better.
"Curse his damn plan." Halbarad grumbled and shivered as a cold gust of wind hit him. Night settled slowly over the rock outcroppings, deepening the shadows and making it even more difficult for him to see Aragorn.
For, that was what he was supposed to do. In principle, Halbarad found the plan good. But, under the given circumstances, it was too risky. It was Aragorn's plan to make the assassin believe that they were at the end of their strength. That they were ready to drop and at the end of their rope.
In the late afternoon they had split up. Aragorn had made a good show of leaving the hobbling Halbarad behind, and Halbarad had played his part in looking half dead on his feet. The plan was to make the assassin believe that Aragorn would go on alone for help; after all, the river was only a day and a bit away now. If Halbarad would have been as injured as they wanted the assassin to believe, he would indeed have tried to convince Aragorn to leave him behind and return with help.
Once Halbarad had lost sight of Aragorn and had waited sufficiently, he had followed Aragorn. It had been more difficult to follow him than he had at first anticipated. The rock formation became lower and soon the rock outcroppings were the only things that could be used as shelter and hideout.
According to their plan, Aragorn had stopped in the late afternoon. The spot he had picked was perfect; there were rocks in his back and to his right and the open plain to his left. Halbarad had circled the spot when he had stumbled over the dry riverbed, instantly choosing it as hideout. From here, he could not only see Aragorn, but most of the open plains surrounding him as well. If the assassin would truly strike this night, Halbarad would see him.
That was all good and well, but Halbarad had not thought of the fact that lying still and unmoving in the dry riverbed would make his sore muscles cramp. The wind assaulted him mercilessly, too, although he was only a little target. Clouds had stolen over the sky during the day, and now the moon was veiled, making the night as dark as the inside a cave. And to top this all off, lying on the ground made Halbarad incredibly sleepy.
Suppressing a yawn, Halbarad rubbed his eyes, wishing for something that would keep him awake…preferably something warm.
The night settled over the lands, silent as a thief and dark as a bottomless abyss. Soon, it was so dark that Halbarad could barely see his hand in front of his face, and he knew that should the assassin attack now, he would not be able to see him. Why, he could not even see Aragorn!
Still, Halbarad did not move, knowing that their plan would be screwed should he move. So, he tilted his head this way and that, hoping to hear the assassin. There were no nocturnal animals this time of year in this area, beside the occasional howl of a wolf or the scurrying of some mice. If the assassin moved tonight, Halbarad was certain he would hear him.
Hours passed and nothing happened. Midnight came and went, and it became more and more difficult for Halbarad to fight sleep. His eyelids felt like leaden weights and once he had roused himself in the last moment before he had fallen asleep. As it was, he had taken to pinch himself or move his injured leg to stay alert.
Another gust of icy wind made him shiver, reminding him that it was already winter. The little bit of dew that had gathered on the ground was already frozen, and the ground was so cold that it had easily seeped through Halbarad's clothing.
Shortly after midnight, the clouds drifted away, leaving the sky clear. The moon shone brightly down from the sky and the start twinkled merrily. To his relief, Halbarad could now easily make out the huddled form of Aragorn, but he knew that with a cloudless sky, the night would turn even colder.
With an inward sigh, he tightened his cloak around his shoulders. If the assassin did not strike soon, they would have to keep the masquerade up the next day and night as well. And 'that' was something Halbarad had no wish for. Not at all.
The hours passed slowly, uneventfully. Only a spell away from dawn, Halbarad had fallen into a dreamless slumber, unable to fight the sleep any longer. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, while the other served as pillow.
Suddenly, his eyes flew open. Unmoving, making no sound at all, Halbarad held his breath. He had been a ranger long enough to go from sleep to full alertness in the split of a second without being confused about where he was and why. He trusted his instincts completely and right now they were screaming at him to not move.
The seconds ticked by slowly, and then the faintest sound reached Halbarad's ears. It was not truly a sound, more the vibration of the earth under his hand. His ear rested on the back of his hand and he more felt than heard someone moving in the darkness.
Halbarad lifted his head a tiny fraction, peering in the darkness. Using his hand to cover his mouth and therewith his breath, for it was misting white in front of his face, Halbarad took a shallow breath and released it slowly. He could clearly see Aragorn in the distance, and he was not moving.
So…it was time. Aragorn's plan worked and the assassin was making his move. But, where was he? The fact that he could hear, but not see the other man made Halbarad uneasy. A shiver that had nothing to do with the coldness of the night crawled down his spine.
With the blood rushing in his ears, Halbarad had difficulties hearing more than the deafening silence around him. Where was the assassin and….There! Halbarad turned his head to the right, from where the sound had come. Footsteps!
Gripping the hilt of his sword more tightly, Halbarad peered into the darkness, waiting. After a few moments, he heard it again. Someone was making his way over to where Aragorn was lying. Silence followed, and a few minutes later the footsteps could be heard once more. Apparently the assassin was taking no chances and was being extremely careful.
With the help of the moon and stars, Halbarad was finally able to see the man. He was nothing more than a dark shape against the slightly lighter sky, hushing from rock to rock and using them as shelter. But, once Halbarad had spotted the man, he did not lose him for a second.
When the assassin was far away enough from his position, and Halbarad had stored his moving pattern, he waited until the assassin moved again, and then made his own move. Every time the killer would move, Halbarad did the same. Due to his injured leg and the stiffness in his limb, Halbarad moved slower than the man he was following, but as soon as he would break cover, that would not matter any longer.
Ever so slowly they neared Aragorn's resting place. It were only some dozen yards, but it took them some long minutes to make it far enough to see Aragorn's face in the darkness. He was obviously sleeping, and Halbarad hoped that Aragorn was only faking it and had not truly fallen asleep.
A gust of cold wind blew into Halbarad's face and in the light of the moon he saw something shimmer in front of him. It was time. The assassin had drawn his sword. He was ready to strike.
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He was near enough. For days now he had been following the rangers, had kept to the shadows and in hiding. Why, he had even been forced to leave his horse behind! He was tired to stalking the rangers, tired of nights without a warm fire, tired of his stale bred, the dry meat and the foul cheese.
The only good thing that had happened had been that fool of a ranger to step into his trap. The fact that it had caught the wrong one had not truly bothered him, and in the end it had proven to be a blessing in disguise. Who could have known that the rangers would be so stupid as to slip up?
'The better for me,' the assassin thought was he sneaked through the darkness. 'Gives me the chance to kill this one without many problems.'
And on his way back to Bree, he could kill the other one. Just for the fun of it. His employer had only paid for one, but he would do the other in as a bonus. Once back in Bree he would buy another horse and then ride south before the worst of the snow set in. At least, the coldness would keep the orcs away from the gap of Rohan, although the Isen would be more difficult to cross should it snow.
All of these thoughts flittered through the assassin's head as he slowly neared Aragorn's sleeping form. When he was close enough to make out the pale face in the moonlight, he gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands.
"A pity you will never know who killed you, ranger." He said, and then brought the sword down in a deadly arc.
To be continued…
I have finished this story and there will be two more chapters. I hope you like this new chapter. Let me know what you think,whether it is good or not. :o)
