All right...warning for violence in this chapter and the next few chapters. Could be considered a bit more violent than some of the stuff earlier in the story...if you want a comparison look at the second chapter of Bad Company.
Chapter Thirty-Four: The Lesson
Half-hearing his brother's explanation to the sleepy-eyed innkeeper, Estel's gaze tracked the man as he made his way down the inn's hall. He looked back once, flinching slightly as his eyes met Estel's.
The man began to climb up the stairs, and Estel focused his attention back on his brother with a hint of exasperation. He had been wanting to discover where the man's room was, in hopes that the man would know where Thilator was going. But it was no use...and Estel did not fancy the idea of creeping into every room upstairs just to find one man.
Ordinarily, he would not have been so anxious...his brothers were very good trackers and could doubtlessly find Thilator with ease...but something in his heart told him they would need more than skill to rescue Legolas.
"The only room left is upstairs," Elrohir muttered, slapping a few coins onto the counter.
"I will be fine," Estel whispered in reply, mind whirling. The possible implication of the kind man leaving Thilator's company was a bit disturbing. What would make him abandon his companions in such a manner? Did Thilator go too far, perhaps?
"Can you make it up the stairs?"
Estel glanced up in surprise. He had been so deep in thought he had not noticed that Elrohir had already helped him over to the stairs. With a nod and a grimace, he gripped the rail tightly and slowly hauled himself up one painful step, leaning on his brother.
The trip was agonizing, but they finally made it to the top of the stairs. Estel closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall for a moment of rest, but a soft sound made him glance up.
A door down the hall was open. It was barely cracked, but he could make out the features of the man who had helped him in the moment before the man closed the door.
Estel quietly counted the number of doors to the staircase. The man's room was the third one from the stairs on the right.
Hope again rekindled, Estel did not even notice the pain in his leg as his brother helped him to their room. If he could get the man's help, they had a better chance of saving Legolas...as soon as he could sneak away from Elrohir, of course.
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"Were it up to me I would not give you a sporting chance," Carmian growled, flipping the crude leather of the strap in his hand. "But the master ordered it."
Legolas groaned inwardly, shaking his head. "We do not seem to be evenly matched," he commented in a dry tone, eyeing the circle of men that had formed around him. He was a bit confused...what possible sort of "lesson" could Thilator have in mind by making him fight Carmian?
"Yes...I have a weapon and your hands are bound behind your back."
The elf let his head drop slightly, glaring at the man. "The advantage seems to be mine."
Carmian growled, lunging toward Legolas. The prisoner paused for a moment, then pivoted away on one foot and slammed his shoulder against his attacker. Carmian was caught off-balance and tumbled to the floor.
"You fight as a coward," he sneered, pushing himself up to his feet.
"I fight as I have been trained," Legolas countered. "You expend too much strength...it is far too easy to turn your own strength against you."
"Do not lecture me!" Carmian shouted, lunging toward the elf again. This time, Legolas let himself be caught and fell to the ground, easily flipping the man's body away with his feet.
Carmain again stumbled to his feet and swung the strap at Legolas. The elf ducked under the whistling leather and got within Carmian's reach, driving one knee into the man's gut.
The man huffed out a shocked breath, stumbling back. Legolas followed him, landing a kick on the man's shoulder that knocked the strap out of his hand. He continued with a few more strikes, careful to restrain his strength enough to not break any of the man's bones. He still held out hope that he could simply defeat Carmian without injuring him too severely, and perhaps earn some kind of standing with the men that would aide him in escaping Thilator.
Easily dodging more blows, Legolas kicked the strap out of Carmian's reach when the man tried to grab it again. The man got a few strikes in, but Legolas knocked him down again without much effort.
This time, though, he felt arms jerking him back as several of the men stepped forward.
Carmian climbed to his feet, wiping his mouth on his arm. "You are going to pay for that," he growled.
Legolas fought against the men who were holding him back, but their grip was far too strong. "Who is the coward now?" he retorted.
The man sneered, and raised his hand to backhand Legolas.
"Carmian!"
Thilator's voice split the air like the crack of a whip. "I thought I gave you instructions."
The man grimaced, letting his hand fall to his side. "He's trickier than we thought...we need to take more extreme measures."
The dark-haired elf snorted. "Beat you, did he?" He shook his head, running the long length of a whip through one hand.
Carmian glared from one elf to the other. "He needs to learn to respect us."
"Oh, I agree," Thilator nodded. "You, however, needed a different lesson."
The dark-haired elf's eyes narrowed as he leaned in until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Carmian. "Cross me again and I will do more than humiliate you in front of your men. There was more than one lesson to be learned here today."
Carmian glowered, lunging toward Thilator when the elf turned his back.
Thilator whirled around, easily evading the man's clumsy strike and sending him tottering unsteadily. The elf snapped his whip out, and a harsh crack filled the air.
Flinching, Legolas was stunned to see the bright crimson line appear on Carmian's back.
"Attack me again and I will do more than warn you," Thilator said, his voice dangerously calm. "Do not cross me, Carmian."
He turned back to face Legolas, striding over and capturing the blond elf's chin in his hand. "Do you see his eyes?" he asked one of the men quietly. "Do not stop until their light is dimmed. I do not want to see this same defiance when you are finished. He is becoming too hard to handle."
"But you said..."
"It will not matter," Thilator waved his hand in the air to cut off the man's protest. "Do nothing that will harm him permanently."
Thilator tossed his whip to one of the waiting men and strode to stand against one wall of the barn. "You should not have encouraged your friend to escape," he called to Legolas. "His presence would have saved you much grief. Now we must encourage your cooperation in more...painful...ways."
With barely a whisper of warning, one of the men drove his fist deep into Legolas' midsection. The elf grunted, more in surprise than pain, and before he had a moment to recover another blow caught him on the side of the head.
He fought to free himself from the men holding his arms, trying to twist away from those who were beating him, but to no avail. He wrenched one shoulder free, only to be stunned by a blow to the back of his head and wrestled into submission.
He had lost count of the number of blows by the time the men stopped. His chest and stomach were throbbing, pain exploding from the sensitive spots where more than one fist had struck. Wearily, Legolas rubbed his face against one aching shoulder, suddenly noticing that his bottom lip was bleeding.
Head lowered, the dangling end of a now-familiar leather strap appeared in his field of vision. He lifted his head to find himself once again face-to-face with Carmian. The man was grinning.
A sharp knife sliced through the rope binding Legolas' hands behind him. He stifled a moan of pain as his arms were shifted out to his sides, pulling at his stiff shoulders.
Apparently, Thilator was no longer concerned with keeping Legolas from harm, the blond-haired elf reasoned grimly.
He steeled himself as Carmian walked slowly around behind him. This time, when the first blow fell he was ready for it.
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"How are you feeling, Estel?"
The young human smiled at his brother. "Much better," he admitted, studying the clean bandages that now encircled his leg. Elrohir had helped him clean up and found him something to eat before taking care of his leg, and while Estel had felt a bit guilty about enjoying such luxuries when Legolas was still a captive, he knew he had to recover his strength.
"Now we need to find you something to wear," Elrohir said, standing up straight. "Too bad you are not quite tall enough to wear something of mine...and I did not pack anything in any case."
"I will be fine," Estel shook his head.
Elrohir raised one eyebrow sardonically. "Estel, your clothes are so dirty they are practically falling off of your body."
"Do not worry about my clothes," the young human protested. "I will be fine here...you should go after Elladan."
"First we must make sure the infection has left your leg," Elrohir replied. "I wonder if the innkeeper would have something...you stay here while I seek him out."
Estel nearly called out his agreement, but remained silent while his brother left the room. He waited until he thought Elrohir would have disappeared down the hall, and slowly pushed himself to his feet.
He stood with only a slight wince. It was amazing, really, how much better his leg felt after the little care his brother had given him. Granted, the medicine in the poultice Elrohir had applied was probably the reason, but Estel was grateful that he could stand without too much pain.
The innkeeper had found a stout stick and brought it up for Estel's use, as Elrohir had been expecting to need to leave the human at the inn for a few days. He grabbed the stick, leaning against it as he eased the door open and peeked out into the hall.
Elrohir was not in sight. Estel wondered how long it would take him to rouse the innkeeper, and if he would have time for his errand before Elrohir's return.
Estel was planning to find the man who had helped him and convince him to help Elrohir find the bandits' camp. He carefully counted down the doors, hobbling over to the steps and counting again to make sure.
Sure of the right room, he knocked on the door.
There was silence within, but Estel would not be deterred. He knocked louder, wondering if he should resort to banging with his walking stick.
Luckily, the door opened a crack and a familiar blue-gray eye peeked out. The man's eye widened at the sight of Estel, and he started to slam the door shut but the young human managed to shove one end of his walking stick into the crack to hold the door open.
"Please," Estel pleaded. "I need your help."
He could see the hesitation in the man's eye. Slowly, he opened the door completely and stared at Estel. "Why would you want my help?"
"My friend is still a captive," Estel explained. "You were one of them...you could help us find where they are taking him."
The man shook his head. "I cannot go against my people like that."
"But why?" Estel could feel tears filling his eyes, and he did not know if he had the strength to hold them back. He was tired, both from his captivity and from worry for Legolas. If this man did not help them, he did not know when his brothers and Palandil might be able to free Legolas.
"Carmian led us when our people were starving. He was the one who made the deal with Thilator. How can I go against the one who has kept us alive since the plague?"
"You helped me," Estel protested. "When I was injured...and again when my brother was bringing me here. Why will you do nothing more?"
"I cannot stand with Carmian and the others anymore," the man explained. "But I cannot stand against them, either. I may not agree with what they are doing now, but I will not get in their way."
"You would let my friend suffer for this?"
The man flinched. "It is regrettable," he said in a soft voice.
"Regrettable?" Estel's voice sharpened. He was well aware that this man could easily overpower him, if he had a change of heart and decided to join up with Carmian again. "As the deaths of the children in your village were regrettable? When is the suffering of an innocent merely 'regrettable'?"
"An innocent?" the man shook his head. "Thilator told us everything."
Estel snorted. He doubted the truth of that statement. "Did he tell you that Legolas was only a child when Thilator's sister locked him in a cell in the dungeons? That she threatened him into silence? That he was only five years old to the eyes of his people when all of this began? What great crime could he have done to earn such malice, and such apathy from you?"
The man was silent, staring at a spot on the floor. Estel shook his head, disgusted.
"Forgive me for troubling you," the young human said in a bitter voice. "I will bother you no longer." He turned and made his way down the hall, leaning heavily against his walking stick and fighting hard to keep his head held high. He did not want to let this man know he was defeated...but what hope did they have of rescuing Legolas now?
"Wait."
Estel turned. The man was looking at him, sorrow in his eyes.
"I will help you. But we must leave now."
He nodded, forgetting at once his resolution to wait for Elrohir's return. "I am ready."
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Legolas collapsed to his knees, crumpling to the ground when his arms were released. His back was now throbbing much like the rest of his body, but he suspected he was not bleeding. Evidently, Thilator did not want him wounded beyond what a couple of days of rest would heal.
Footsteps approached, and he automatically curled up as a boot prodded him.
"Let me see him."
A rough hand grabbed his head, forcing his chin up. He pried his eyes open to meet Thilator's gaze, putting as much venom into his own glare as possible.
Thilator laughed. "Your rebellion at this moment is futile...and amusing."
"My father will never turn the kingdom over to you," he retorted, wincing inwardly at the waver he heard in his own voice.
"Are you so confident?" Thilator gloated. "Tell me...did your father ever tell you why he sent you away when you were young?"
Legolas grimaced. He was not going to play this sort of game with his former tutor. Doubtless Thilator had some twisted version of the story. "I know why," he replied.
"Do you?" the dark-haired elf smirked. "So you know it was because he could not bear the sight of you? Because you reminded him so much of your dear mother...and because you were responsible for her death?"
"That is a lie!" Legolas struggled against the men holding him back. A strong blow to the back of his head dazed him, and he was forced back down to his knees.
"Is it?" Thilator chuckled. "Are you so sure?"
He did not wait for a reply, snapping an order to the men to prepare to move out.
Legolas was forced to his feet, and shoved forward when he stumbled. He flinched when rough fingers dug into his wrist, and found himself jerked around to face Carmian.
The human's face had turned ugly with hatred, and he brandished the leather strap he had used to beat Legolas in the elf's face. "Humiliate me again and there will not be enough of you left to ransom to your father," he sneered. "The pride of a man is not something to trifle with, Elf."
"And what of your master?" Legolas asked through gritted teeth. "I thought he was the one who decided that you needed to be humiliated."
"Oh, I will not forget him," Carmian pushed Legolas ahead of him, keeping a firm grip on the elf's arm. "It is nearly time for the master to learn a lesson himself."
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