Chapter 4

It had been several days since they had left the dwarfs. The Grey Mountains, as they were referred to on the map, had grown small and blue behind them and they had entered a forest that was marked on the map as Mirkwood, but they were still a long way from Lothlorien. They trudged on, without talking for the most part. They were sorry they had left the boat behind, for they were all better sailors than walkers.

"I wonder if all that Dirk said about Galadriel was true," said Omir suddenly.

"Oh, Dirk just says things," replied Omiel.

"How do you spell 'Galadriel'?" asked Dakir.

"G-a-l-a-d-r-i-e-l," said Omir.

"But then you would pronounce it 'Gaylaidriel'!"

He received no answer. This was because an arrow suddenly sped past Omir's ear and caught into a tree trunk.

"Your dwarf breathes loud enough for me to shoot him with my eyes closed!" called a feminine voice through the trees, and a tall blonde elf stepped out.

"We don't have a dwarf!" said Omiel.

"I know," said the elf, chuckling to herself. "I was quoting a movie. Did I sound authentic? I want to be an actress, you see."

They didn't have time to answer, for another blonde elf suddenly dropped lightly out of the sky. Or perhaps it was the tree overhead. Omiel couldn't tell.

"Who enters Mirkwood without permission from Thranduil, Elven King?" he said haughtily.

"Wait a minute," said Dakir. "It's a boy!"

"Uh-" said Omiel.

"Of course I'm a boy," snapped the elf. "Stop playing games with me. Who are you?"

"We're fairies-" began Omiel, but he interrupted her.

"I can see that, what is your business? Why are you here?"

"We are journeying to Lothlorien to speak with Lady Galadriel," said Omir. "We ask for safe passage through Mirkwood."

A black bird flew shrieking overhead. Before Omiel realized what was happening, the he-elf had out a bow and arrow and fired a shot into the sky. The bird landed with a thump at Omiel's feet and an arrow through its heart.

"Aw," she said, "why'd you do that?"

He ignored her. "Your request is for the time denied," he said to Omir. "You will be taken to Thranduil and he will decide what to do with you."

He whistled, and another elf stepped forward. The three of them began to tie them up.

Bother, thought Omiel. First orcs, then dwarves, now elves. Who was going to capture them next-fairies?

Suddenly she heard the sound of approaching hooves. A horse rode into the clearing with a man on its back. It actually was a man, not an elf. Omiel could tell because he did not have long hair cascading down his back, though he still had rather too much. Also, she had never heard of an elf with glasses. Actually, she had never heard of a man with them either, but this man was quite definitely wearing spectacles.

"What's going on here, Loriel?" he asked the elf.

"So it is a girl1!" said Dakir in astonishment.

"I am not a girl!" said Loriel. "Why does everybody keep saying that?"

"What is it?" asked the man again.

"Fairies trespassing on Mirkwood land," said Loriel, sulkily.

"Fairies?"asked the man in surprise. He dismounted and walked toward them. His glasses were too big for him, he had to keep pushing them up the bridge of his nose.

He looked at Omir first, then Dakir, then his eyes fastened on Omiel. He stared at the golden chain round her neck. Omiel started trembling in fright and looked about for a way to escape. But they were surrounded.

Suddenly the man dropped to his knees. "My Lady," he said to Omiel, "all the world bids you welcome!" He motioned for Loriel and the other elves to follow his example.

"You're out of your mind, Berand," exclaimed Loriel. "I'm not going to kneel to a fairy!" The other elves seemed to be of the same mind.

"This is no mere fairy!" said Berand. "This is her of whom it was spoken in the prophecy, 'EƤrendil, Star of the Elves, and the Sailing Moon shall bear it.' We owe her our allegiance!"

The girl elf stared at Omiel with shining eyes. "So it is true," she said softly. "A fairy bears the Silmaril." She stepped forward and reached out her hand for the chain around Omiel's neck.

"Hands off!" said Omiel, "that's mine."

"I just wanted to look at it," said the elf sulkily.

"Leave her alone, Phylloxera," said Berand. "This thing must be delivered to Lady Galadriel herself."

"I can deliver it," said Phylloxera.

"It must be delivered by the Sailing Moon. Loriel, find some boats for these fairies. We must take them to Lothlorien."

"That's what we've been trying to tell you all along!" said Omir, losing patience.

"We?" Loriel asked Berand. "You expect me to travel with fairies?"

"I expect you to do as I say."

"I obey no man."

"I am no man!" interrupted Phylloxera, with drama.

"Er-obviously," murmured Omir.

"These fairies must first go to King Thranduil!" continued Loriel. "My loyalties lie with my own people, not outdated prophecies."

"The ancients were wiser than thou,"said Berand, laying his hand on his sword hilt.

"I was not speaking of the ancients, but of what they said. You can't believe those old scrolls and things. It's called progress. Out with the old and in with the new."

"Draw thy sword, Elf-no-I shall not call you an elf who would so lightly cast aside the wisdom of his forefathers," said Berand passionately, unsheathing his own. "Draw your sword and defend yourself!"

"Man," Omir said to Omiel, "he's almost as good as Phylloxera!"

Loriel quickly obeyed, seeming to forget his earlier statement that he would obey no man. The two swords clashed together as Phylloxera uttered a long, dramatic "Noooooooooooo!" The other elf's attention was turned to the two combatants as well. No one was looking at the fairies.

"Now!" hissed Omiel, who had succeeded in pulling the elven rope off her wrists and had just finished untying the others. "Let's go!"

They turned and crept softly away. They had almost reached the cover of the trees when Dakir tripped over a fallen branch and fell.

"Ow!" he shouted as a sharp stick found its way into his palm.

Berand and Loriel turned to look. "Stop!" cried Loriel, sheathing his sword and drawing his bow.

Dakir scrambled to his feet and all three fairies ran.

"Stop!" called Loriel again, fitting an arrow to the string and preparing to let fly.

"No!" said Berand, grabbing the bow. "Don't kill the Silmaril Bearer!"

Suddenly, a blood-curdling yell rang out ahead of them. The fairies froze in their tracks.

"Orcs!" observed Loriel, helpfully.


"I'm not going in Mirkwood, whatever you say," snarled Chabouk. "I don't fancy getting my head chopped off by that King Thranduil guy."

"You'll fancy your head being chopped off if I want you to," Sjambok growled back.

"I'm hungry," whined Kurbash.

"That was random," observed Chabouk.

"So was that," replied Kurbash.

"Look what I've got," cackled Scarpine. She reached behind her back and produced a pizza from nowhere, as it appeared. "Looks like meat's back on the menu!"

"Pizza!" shrieked both Chabouk and Kurbash together.

"Quiet, filthy maggots!" snarled Sjambok.

"Dynamite!" (that was Chabouk's favorite expression) "No one heard that," said Chabouk. He happened to be right, as Phylloxera's "Noooo" had drowned it out. "Come on, give us a piece!"

"We haven't time for eating right now. We've got to keep going." said Sjambok. "We've lost enough time, as it is."

"But we've had nothing but dry bread for a whole lot more than three stinking days," he whined.

"I can't even remember what pizza tastes like," said Kurbash.

"Forget it, you fat slobs. We've been over all this before."

"Nobody's fat here but you, Sjam," hissed Scarpine.

"Skinny slobs, then."

"Oh brother," muttered Chabouk. (He was his brother, in fact. They were all siblings, but that doesn't make a whole lot of difference to orcs.)

"Get a move on," said Sjambok, giving him such a violent cuff that it sent him reeling.

"Eeeeeek!" screamed Chabouk. (This was the blood-curdling yell the fairies heard.) He wasn't screaming about being punched, he was used to that. But as he was sent flying into a bush, an enormous black creature scuttled away. "Kurbash!" he cried in annoyance, "why did you have to bring Anthracite with you?"

"You scared him!" said Kurbash reproachfully.

"I scared him! That thing gives me the creeps. Why didn't you leave him home?"

"I couldn't leave him behind!" said Kurbash. "He would have been lonely without me!"

"Okay, okay," said Sjambok. "Quit all the jaw. Let's get moving, there's no way they didn't hear that scream, Chabouk."


"Loriel, what do your elf-eyes see?" cried Berand. Loriel was in a treetop, looking for the orcs. The other male elf had set off to find Thranduil to inform him of the orc trespassers.

"There are four of them," said Loriel. "All of them are armed. That's odd."

"What?" asked Omir. "That they're armed?"

"No-I could swear one of them is a girl. I didn't know those existed."

"Of course they exist," said Omiel. "Where do you think orcs come from? Holes in the ground?"

"They do come from holes in the ground," said Loriel, looking at her condescendingly.

"Four of them," said Berand. "And two of us."

"Where'd he learn to count," muttered Omir.

"Three of us," said Phylloxera.

"That's a little bit better," said Omir, "but I was thinking more along the lines of six."

"You have no weapons," said Berand. "Phylloxera, lead the fairies to safety."

"Me? Aw man!" said Phylloxera.

"Uh-I don't feel very safe with her," said Omiel, remembering how she had tried to take the Silmaril.

"How big are the orcs?" Berand called to Loriel.

"One big one, the girl, a medium sized one, and a tiny one-a snaga."

"A snaga?" asked Omiel, "Is that what they're called? How cute!"

"Phylloxera," said Loriel, "get that girl out of here! I'm about to have a nervous breakdown!"

"I want to stay and fight," complained Phylloxera.

"Don't be silly."

"I'm not going anywhere," said Phylloxera stubbornly.

"That's quite all right," said Omiel. "We can go to Lothlorien by ourselves."

"I've got an idea!" said Berand. "Come on down, Loriel!"

Loriel slid gracefully down the trunk. Berand led the way through the trees, dragging the fairies with him.

"Where are we going?" asked Loriel.

Berand pushed aside a branch and Omiel found herself looking at a river with two boats moored in it.

"Into the boats," said Berand. "And don't touch the water. It will make you fall asleep."

"Wait a minute," said Loriel. "An elf never runs in the face of danger!"

Suddenly four orcs appeared. "There they are!" growled the big one.

"Look!" cried Omiel as Berand pushed her into the boat. "It's Sjambok and Kurbash."

Loriel fit an arrow to the string. Just as he discharged it, he was struck with a violent fit of coughing. The arrow flew into Chabouk's shoulder, and Loriel leaped into the boat which Omir and Dakir occupied and started rowing violently.

"I thought an elf never runs in the face of danger," remarked Omir.

"I'm not running from danger," said Loriel. "I'm running from an allergy-or something."

"Huh?"

"My anthracosis is acting up."

"Nonsense," said Berand. "You just smoke too much."

Omiel looked over her shoulder just in time to see a strange black creature scuttle through the underbrush along the bank.


1 In fairie tradition, only girl's names end with 'iel'. Boys names usually end in 'ir', except for those of some of the very old men, who were born before this custom became popular. King Tamil was one of these.