The host of men traveled south and then west at a brisk pace, hindered only by the restricting visibility of the mist that arose as the night progressed. As they journeyed, a few of the better trackers trailed behind them, masking their path, and occasionally creating diversionary trails. Uneventful hours passed, marked only by the gradual ease of the night's shadowy curtain. As ordered, they did not pause on their hurried trek, not daring to allow any who might come upon their abandoned camp the opportunity to discover them. Their greatest fear were the elves, for they all knew that once they were aware of the child's absence, they would surely be pursued with fiery vengeance.
"Halt! We make camp here!" the tall commander shouted, raising his arms to stall the ceaseless marching of his band. He indicated a small clearing off to one side, shielded by a small natural hedge, which the men immediately settled into without further prompting. Hidden by the meager barrier was a small stream, providing the exhausted travelers with a convenient source of water with which to refresh themselves. A few men had been sent ahead to scout out the best possible location for the group to take their rest, and they had reported that this site, while not as secluded as would have been preferred, was likely to be the best they would find for some time.
The sun had risen several hours before, and was now well on its path to the peak of its grand arch. A full day had passed since any of the men had been able to sleep, and rest of any kind had not been granted for many hours. Despite their mounting fatigue, the men had relentlessly continued their grueling march, swallowing any complaints they may have harbored, and ignoring the protests their bodies raised. Tired to the point of collapsing, none bothered to question the direction given, nor to truly examine the designated area. Instead, they were simply grateful for the opportunity to stop, and welcomed whatever rest they would be allowed, knowing that it would be far briefer than any of them desired.
The new captain and his lieutenant slowly wound their way through the unfolding camp, monitoring the progress of the preparations, and assigning guards for the first shift of their resting period. Each person selected grumbled in much the same fashion, though all accepted the unwelcome burden without argument. They knew that in spite of their weariness, caution was needed, and eventually all would do their part.
"I suggest we limit our stay here to a few hours," Prevos commented, drawing next to his companion.
Greenish eyes glanced up at him as their owner nodded in agreement. "The men are weary, but we cannot afford to stop just yet, not for any significant period. If the elves have discovered what we have done, they will undoubtedly be hastening in our wake and have the benefit of light to speed their travel. Hopefully this brief pause will grant us the stamina needed to complete this day. It would doubtlessly be preferable to continue on into the night, but I fear we will not hold for such a length of time."
"We knew this initial interval would present the most difficulty," the taller man remarked, a grim expression imbedded in his features. "Still, the men have born themselves well, and though it will be strenuous, I believe we are not so unrealistic in asking for a second press of similar duration. It would certainly be beneficial to our lead, for I fail to believe that such a distance would be easily crossed by any who would seek to find us. It would thus nearly guarantee our success in that it would be virtually impossible for even mounted riders to close such a lead before we reach our destination."
Jarek appeared to consider his commander's argument for a few minutes, thoughtfully glancing around at the freshly erected campsite. "Perhaps," he conceded at last, his tone reflecting the doubtfulness that still plagued his mind. "Irregardless, it seems as though we have little room for consideration; our options are severely limited, and time is not our luxury. We must do what is required." He frowned grimly as he pondered their situation, suddenly wondering why he ever agreed to such a high-risk scheme. "The money," his memory whispered, conjuring images of bagfuls of shining coins. It was far easier to split the grand spoils amongst 6 than it would have been with 12. A wry smile found its way to his mouth, despite the misgivings he still firmly held on to.
"Well spoken, my friend," the captain beamed, ignoring his companion's uncertainty. "It will all work out in the end, you'll see," he assured, roughly patting the other on the shoulder.
"Men!" he bellowed moments later, turning his attention to the dispersed band, and drawing their focus to him. "Take your rest while you may, we leave at high noon!" he announced.
A few of the men grumbled at this unwelcome - though not surprising - proclamation, realizing how few hours they were being allotted. None voiced their complaints, however, for all knew that a strong lead was imperative for their success. What few tasks remained were hastily completed, and soon the majority of the camp was fast asleep.
Time, as it was wont, passed far too quickly for the slumbering members, and sooner than any wished, the sun had reached the apex of its climb. The sleepers were given a rather harsh awakening, as the captain paced around their bedrolls bellowing. Those that did not arise immediately were submitted to vigorous shaking, and even dousings of cold water, if the first methods failed. Once awake, they were hurried through the process of readying themselves for travel, and tearing down their campsite.
Jarek saw that a second dosage of the sleeping draught was administered to their captives, before inspecting the encampment's progress. Satisfied with their readiness, he reported his observations to Prevos.
"How long will they be out?" he asked the shorter man, after hearing the update on their prisoners' status.
"They should not awaken before nightfall," the brunette responded, wiping the bleariness from his emerald eyes. He suppressed a yawn as he waited for the order to move, idly wondering how he was going to last another full day's travel.
"Very good," the captain grunted, fingering his scraggly beard. "Let us not delay any longer," he cried to the group, who resignedly awaited his command. "Onwards to the Anduin!"
The men systematically formed a line and began their second day's hike, already looking forward to the coming evening, when they might be allowed a true rest. Their pace was somewhat slower than the previous leg, though still reasonably swift, as energy levels quickly drained, and the men struggled to push themselves through the strain of remaining both awake and active after such little repose.
A few hours later the entourage met the bank of the mighty river. Prevos instructed them to walk in its waters, out to where it rushed about their knees, that their passage might leave no trail. As the pain of the strenuous activity began to weave its way into the muscles of the considerably exhausted party, the sun mercifully began to sink beyond the horizon. The air cooled to a refreshing temperature as the sky gradually progressed through a menagerie of colors, before fading into shades of deep purple.
Encouraged by the excellent progress they had made, the commander decided to allow them an early end. Following the suggestion of the scouts he'd sent, he directed the men to a clearing near the riverside where they could set up their base for the night.
The men were all too eager to comply, and promptly commenced the reconstruction of their camp with all the speed they could manage. After a hasty meal, all but the night's first guards retired to their bedrolls, some nearly fainting from fatigue.
"We made it," Jarek stated to the dark haired man, a note of disbelief coloring his tone.
Prevos smiled thinly at his companion, his midnight eyes twinkling smugly. "You sound as if you thought we would not." He did not wait for a response, knowing his interpretation was correct, and that his lieutenant would not deny it. "I am pleased we achieved so much ground. I believe it is fairly safe to assume that we need not worry about pursuit any longer."
The brunette nodded in response, his gaze thoughtful as he considered their present state more thoroughly. "Tomorrow - do you wish to continue our travels in the water, or shall we remain on the shore, where we will be able to achieve greater speed?"
The taller man frowned as he pondered the options for the following day, carefully weighing his confidence in their lead with the practicality of each method. "While we would surely be able to travel much faster on the bank, I am hesitant to abandon the protection of the water, and risk our trail being discovered," he admitted, verbally mulling over the situation. "Our course has been one of great predictability, as following a stream is often the most direct route. I do not think it entirely impossible, though certainly highly unlikely, that our direction may be guessed, and our trail found, however eventually. It may benefit us to favor caution..."
"Sir!" came an urgent cry, interrupting his contemplations. A thin man in his early thirties followed the call, long hair whipping behind him as he raced towards the two leaders. "The apprentice healer has awoken!" he declared once he'd reached them, panting slightly from rushing across the camp.
The news startled the commanders, who had not yet formally begun to consider what to do with the hostages once they recovered from their drugged slumber. Their earlier discussion completely forgotten, the two quickly glanced at one another, sharing a moment of alarm as their minds quickly churned to formulate a plan.
"He is yet bound, is he not?" Jarek asked the man, momentarily wondering if the haste of the messenger had been sprung from the instance of his escape.
"Aye sir," the man affirmed.
A deep frown pulled at the corners of the bearded figure's mouth, ideas and concerns flooding his consciousness in a barrage of frenzied chaos. "And the other two?" he questioned, only partially listening for the answer, his thoughts occupied by the hectic activity in his head.
"Nay not, sir. Estaf believes that they will be out for some time longer," the thin man reported, firmly standing before his superiors as he awaited their instructions.
"See that he is contained for the time being, Hummeth," Prevos ordered after several additional minutes of silent contemplation. His eyes were narrowed into slits as he regarded the individual before him, his mind still lost in its own inner conflict. "Do what must be done to ensure that he is not a distraction. I would prefer that we reserve our supplies for the draught until they are more urgently needed, but if it becomes necessary, do not hesitate to silence him by any means." His lips settled into a thin line as he thought of the young man he loathed as an incessant annoyance.
He had initially been against the idea of bringing him along, but had eventually ceded to include him in their plan. They expected Tewarn to resist his capture, and it was this that raised concern. Until the older man awoke, they could not be sure that he would agree to help, even if his skills were direly needed. Although much less experienced, the youth's training had provided him with nearly all the skills of the healing arts, and Prevos had agreed that it was better to be overly prepared than not at all.
"And be wary of the healer, for he may try to deceive you in an attempt to achieve freedom," the shorter lieutenant added. Like the captain's, his thoughts had been filled with balancing the many uncertainties of dealing with their captives, and though cognizant of the conversation that had occurred, he had been focused on formulating the best method of handling them. "Before he wakes, check that his bindings are secure. We need not a second rendition of last eve's events. Oh, and have someone check on the elf-child's injuries," he advised evenly, systematically addressing the most pertinent issues that had circled through his mind.
"Aye sir," Humeth nodded. He waited a few moments for further instructions, and when none were offered, excused himself to return to the area where the captives were held.
Neither spoke as they watched the retreating form of the messenger rush to the opposite corner of their rest site. When he finally disappeared beyond view, the pair wordlessly glanced at each other, emotions permeating their gazes as they both silently expressed their own reactions and read the others'.
"Have you any ideas on the matter?" Prevos asked in a hushed tone some minutes later. His words severed the entrancing link the two had shared, causing both to jump slightly as they were roughly thrown back into awareness.
Jarek frowned slightly, glancing back towards the far end of the camp for a moment. "I believe any planning must be put on hold until we have a clearer perspective of the situation. There are many factors that create much variation, too many, I believe, to decide on a specific course at this time."
Prevos scowled at the evasive response he received, casting an annoyed glare at his companion. "And what factors might those be?" he inquired, his tone sharp with derision.
The shorter man blanched slightly at the anger evident on the other's features. Immediately catching himself, he solidified his own poise, brazenly returning the stare that he refused to allow to intimidate him. "Tewarn presents a very pressing impediment, should he refuse to comply. Also, the elf-child was dressed as a hunter, and though small in stature, I would not underestimate his ability to resist containment, especially if panicked. Even if we succeeded without undo difficulty, he does not speak our language, and thereby cannot understand orders…"
"There I think you may be mistaken. I am sure that given the appropriate... incentives... the child can infer our commands," Prevos interrupted with a smug grin, his eyes twinkling with the amusement of his own malicious thoughts.
"Perhaps," Jarek consented sharply, shooting the burly man a deathly stare. A look of repulsion passed over his countenance as he deduced the reasoning for the man's sudden mirth.
Having composed himself, the captain restated his initial question, hoping to draw a more succinct answer from his snarling companion. "What would some of your suggestions be, disregarding these contingencies?" he asked in a carefully monitored tone that ensured his irritation would not seep into his voice.
"I think that the most profitable result would be for them to acquiesce to their capture, and allow themselves to be led. Then they could move of their own accord, granting them a greater sense of freedom, however fallacious it may actually be, which may prove to better their morale. We would then be able to discontinue our use of the cart, which would speed our progress, require less energy to be expended, and make it easier for us to cover our path," he confided, concluding his lengthy proposal.
"The only problem I can decipher from your plan is the unlikeliness of our hostages' cooperation," Prevos criticized with a thoughtful frown.
"Aye," the stocky lieutenant agreed, "But you did request that I ignore the impediments of any such plan I had formulated."
The dark man continued to frown, a hand coming to play with the ends of his mustache as he stood silent for a few moments. "You know," he murmured, seemingly unaware his thoughts were being voiced, "It is possible that they be... persuaded." A malevolent spark twinkled in his eyes as the idea took shape inside his head, soon followed by a rumbling chuckle of insidious delight.
A fire of rage ignited within Jarek's breast at once again witnessing the sadistic nature of his companion's soul. Only a flash of the fiery disgust passed over his features before he was able to quell his desire to pummel the repugnant man who drew such satisfaction from the pain of others. A sickening sensation slowly trickled through his veins as a small voice reminded him that he'd agree to what was now their scheme.
When dark eyes at last met his gaze, he wisely masked his emotions, preferring to remain silent as he dared not to trust his own tongue.
Prevos quirked an eyebrow, a hint of a snicker transforming his smile as he identified the emotions his partner valiantly attempted to hide. He chose to refrain from voicing the snide comments that wove their way through his consciousness; instead he waited to see if the brunette would dare to voice his contempt.
Immediately Jarek recognized the unspoken challenge that was posed in the goading stare, and coolly matched it with his own unwavering glare.
"We have not long to rest," the tall commander said finally, breaking their wordless dispute. "We will revisit this subject at a later hour." His tone left little room for argument, and without another word or glance, he turned and walked away.
For several minutes the green-eyed man remained as a statue, paralyzed as he succumbed to the furious inferno that raged beneath his skin, setting his blood to boil. He struggled to contain the scream of rage that surged within his veins, violently tearing through his system as it sought its release.
He knew he was trapped, his actions dictated by the alliance he'd willingly forged. What was worse though, was that Prevos knew, and used that knowledge to torment him, purposefully baiting him when he knew his resolve was faltering. After tremendous effort, he was able to obtain a semblance of control great enough to allow him to seize possession of his silently quaking body, and lead it to a quiet spot where he hoped to be able to regain his calm.