To Whatever End

A Trail to Follow

Henneth Annun

A message had been sent to Lossanarch to inform Dirihael, of what had happened to Eowyn, and that he may be called to aid Faramir and the Rangers in the search. Faramir only hoped that his old friend would not be tied to some other errand, and that when needed, he would be able to give aid.

As for now, the Rangers were off. They were making their way, guided by Faramir, to the spot where he had found the necklace. Faramir hoped that the orcs, being clumsy creatures, had left a trail to follow. He figured that the orcs would take Eowyn directly to Cellas, which as of yet they hadn't done, the orcs always headed to some remote cave or clearing, throwing the Rangers off their lead time after time. This time, he knew, would be different, Cellas wanted Eowyn and would not risk her, she was going to be his leverage.

Faramir knew Ithilien better then any, so he knew the exact location of the where he had come across the necklace. He waved a hand as they reached their destination, which was the silent command to halt. With him Faramir had taken his best Rangers, Anborn, Mablung, and of course his Damrod. This was more of a scouting mission then an attempt to confront Cellas and his orcs, they would attempt to find and follow a trail, then if and when they found Cellas, they would call for aid. It was to dangerous to have an entire garrison with them, they would be easily seen, and the covert intent for the mission would be lost.

"This is the spot" Faramir stated in a whisper. "Take a look around, look for any sign of the direction they might have set off in." Faramir was all business, it kept him from thinking that Eowyn might be hurt...or worse.

The four Rangers set about in different directions, covering ever inch of the small patch of forest. Each knew what to look for, a broken branch, a piece of torn fabric, a foot print in the mud. The signs would be small, not noticeable to the untrained eye, but these men were the best of the best.

Suddenly after not too long of a time, Mablung gave that familiar call that the Rangers gave to gain the attention of their own, but none else. Faramir was the first to respond, giving the owl like call in return to tell Mablung he was coming.

"I think that I've found something" he whispered giving a sly smile, and then he drew his Captain's attention to the forest floor.

There, in a damp patch of muddy grass, was a foot print, and a large one. It was to large and misshapen to be human...it must be orc. The foul print was pointing north, so north they would go.

Lossanarch

Lord Dirihael, son of Forlong, and the Lord of Lossanarch, was quickly reading a letter that his dear friend, Faramir, had sent to him form Ithilien.

Diri,

Hello old friend, how fairs you and Lossanarch? How is your brother, Beren? As sly as ever I'll bet!

I would love for this to be a letter purely to exchange pleasantries, but alas it is not. Their has been foul play here in Ithilien, as you well know. Cellas, that coward, who sits in hiding while others handle his dirty work, has captured my Eowyn. King Aragorn has allowed me to stay in command here, even though my two months are over, in order to retrieve my Lady and hopefully force an arrow through the head of the foul creature that has her!

I write to you know, friend, in the hopes that if I shall call upon you in the coming days, you shall answer. I am certain that I shall have need of you and some of your best soldiers in order to take down Cellas.

Please make ready, for I fear that if you are not mustered quickly all shall be lost.I shall send word soon.

You brother in arms,

Faramir

Dirihael looked up from the letter, his friend form boyhood had need of him, and he would most definitely ride out to give Faramir and the Ranger whatever help he could offer.

Affairs in Lossanarch had been running quite smoothly. The rebuilding of the city, and the restoring of crops in the villages, was moving along at a nice rate, and with Beren as his right hand man, the Fiefdom could spare their Lord for a few days, or weeks if need be.

He then called for his young squire to send for Beren.

"Roydon, please send my brother to me. I have to speak with him, I make for Minas Tirith at once."

Cave system, Northern Ithilien

She had that damned sack over her head again. She knew that this must mean that they were near to Cellas, to where he had been hiding these past months.

The orcs were quieter now, they seemed to be nervous, perhaps this Cellas was some sort of cross between and orc and a Raith? Wouldn't that be horrid she though to herself, but on the bright side they were both things she had conquered before.

A group of orc in the back of the ranks were arguing about something, food maybe, Eowyn thought, when Gorgen shouted, "you in the back! If you don't shut you sinking mouths I'll have them cut out! We are nearing the Master, have a little respect!"

"We forgot ourselves, we would never want to anger the Master!" said one of the bickering pair.

"Do not forget yourselves again" Gorgen replied, menacingly.

Who was this Cellas, why did the orcs so blindly follow him. Did he claim to be some relation to Sauron, Eowyn thought, why were they so eager to do his bidding? It was dangerous for the orc, the men of the world were eager to see them rid of, and were moving rapidly. Aragorn and Faramir, as well as Dirihael in the south and Eomer and his men in the north, had been hunting down the orc and all their kind heedlessly since Sauron fell.

They had made some early head way, but then within weeks of the destruction of the Ring, a new enemy had surfaced, Cellas. No one had seen him, they had only heard his name form the Rogue orcs that did his work. They had virtually undone all the progress that the Court has made, the people of Middle Earth once more had to live in fear.

Some said that he was Sauron himself, come again in a mortal form. That he wanted to challenge Aragorn to the throne of Gondor, and eventually take over all Middle Earth. Aragorn and Faramir, however thought that he was some sort of higher up amongst the orc, an uruc-hai. They were smarter then the normal orc, they were mixed with elvin blood, and resembled men more so then any other strain of orc.

She soon felt the warg stop short, and she and Gorgen were almost through straight to the ground, much to the amusement of the others.

"Shut it maggots! Bring the wargs to the back cave, and keep the noise down, you disgusting lot!" Gorgen then grabbed Eowyn, and practically dropped her to ground. She tried to stand, but a large and heavy foot pressed her down.

"Don't be tying anything stupid, the master has other ways of getting what he wants! But it would be easier for everyone if you kept you trap shut! Got it?' Gorgen said, he then removed his foot form the White Lady's shoulder, and hauled her to her feet.

With her hands tied behind her back, Gorgen lead her by the elbow in to the damp feeling cave. It smelled of orc, and she could hear them yelling at the "filthy human". Soon they seemed to be heading away form the noisy bunch, and through the sack tied around her head, she could tell that it was darker in this part of the cave.

"So this is the White Lady of Rohan, the one they say, took down the Witch King." said the booming voice. "Gorgen, if you please, remove the sack form about the lady's head."

This then, Eowyn thought, was Cellas,