AN: At last...the warning we've all been waiting for...Character Death! Death of a sort of major character in this chapter...but I don't think you'll be too unhappy about it. It's a little gruesome, so read with care...
Chapter Thirty-Six: Betrayal
Carmian struck in an instant, the hand that had been lingering near his belt flashing out clenching a knife.
Thilator easily evaded the human's strike, his face contorting in fury. "How dare you," he seethed, pulling his own knife out of his belt.
The man behind Legolas tensed, lifting his own blade away from the prince's neck slightly. The elf risked a glance up to catch Corben's profile. The man was studying his brother with a mixture of fear and pride on his face...pride at his brother's skill, no doubt, and fear that his skill would not be enough.
Carmian whirled and slashed twice at Thilator, infuriated when the elf blocked both attacks. He seemed to have learned nothing from his failed fight with Legolas, and was trying to use his strength to overpower his slighter opponent.
Thilator danced away again, laughing cruelly as the grace of his movements made Carmian seem almost clumsy. A murmur ran through the men, and Legolas winced as the dark-haired elf slapped Carmian with the flat of his knife before dodging out of reach again.
He was playing with the man, Legolas realized. Thilator could end the fight at any time, but was drawing it out, toying with Carmian.
Carmian's fury seemed to double, and he rushed at Thilator and managed to catch the elf in a broad sweep. Thilator stumbled to the side, blood pouring down from the wound in his arm.
"This ends now," he ground out, his mood changing from one of dark glee to pure malice.
The man seemed to agree with the elf's statement as he charged again, feinting on one foot and throwing out a blow aimed for the elf's belly.
Thilator easily side-stepped Carmian's attack, countering by throwing his knee into the man's stomach. Breathless, Carmian was unprepared for the vicious blow Thilator landed on the back of his head.
In a moment the elf had twisted the knife away from the man, and yanked his head up by the hair while placing his blade under Carmian's chin.
"I warned you of what would happen if you crossed me again," Thilator spat. "Let this be a message to all who would stand against me."
Legolas saw the murderous glint in Thilator's eyes, and turned his head. He had no doubt he had seen the elf kill before...someone had murdered Meledur that night long ago. He also had no doubt of what Thilator was about to do.
His stomach clenched as he heard the sound of a knife tearing through flesh...the gurgled gasp of a dying man...and was painfully shoved aside as Corben surged ahead, roaring a denial and raising his own knife against Thilator.
"Your brother was a fool," Thilator spat, leaping away from Corben's wild attack. "I pray you are not so foolish, Boy...lest you meet the same end."
Corben seemed to stumble near Carmian's body, but was on his feet in a moment, something clutched in his left hand.
His attack was in a similar style to Carmian's, so Legolas was not surprised to see Thilator evade every strike.
Rough hands pulled the blond elf back to his knees. "Do not move," a voice whispered dangerously in his ear, and from the scent of blood he knew it was the man he had injured earlier as fingers dug into his neck, nearly choking off his air.
Corben whirled away from Thilator, his knife flashing in the pale light of early dawn. The elf stood his ground, knife held up in a guard position, a taunting glimmer in his eyes. "Come, Boy, let us see if you can last longer than your brother."
The young man growled. He lunged forward, feinting with his right hand as Carmian had done. Scorn in his eyes, Thilator moved to block the incoming blow from Corben's left hand...
But it never landed. Corben had not been feinting...and his dagger plunged into Thilator's stomach.
The elf pulled back with a cry, hand clapping over his wound as he staggered away. Legolas could see the blood welling through Thilator's fingers as the older elf's knees collapsed.
Corben glared contemptuously at Thilator and spat in his direction. "No, leave him," he ordered as one of the men came forward to finish the elf off. "No short death for this one...let him die slowly."
Thilator, face paling as his blood trickled through his fingers, crumbled to the ground. His lips parting, tiny moans of pain escaping despite his best efforts at stoicism. "May my death...haunt you forever."
The same words Amarthwen had spoke. Legolas shivered, feeling as though some specter of the past had risen among them.
Corben snorted in derision. "I do not think so," he ground out, slowly turning and kneeling beside his brother. "Carmian?"
Legolas glanced back, heart aching for the young man as he watched him gently touch his brother's face. Corben brushed his fingers over Carmian's eyes, one hand resting on his heart as he murmured something over his brother's body.
Carmian was dead. Thilator's cut had been final and fatal.
The men would follow Corben now, Legolas knew. And, seeing the grief and anger warring in the man's eyes, he felt a small shiver of fear run down his spine.
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"Elladan."
Palandil's soft call alerted the dark-haired elf, and he swiftly made his way to the captain of Mirkwood's side. "What is it?"
"There is another set of tracks here."
Elladan sighed. He and Palandil had finally reached the barn where Estel said he and Legolas had been held, only to find no sign of their captors.
Of course, Thilator would have pulled out the moment he suspected they might be in danger, but Elladan had been hoping he would leave some sign.
"How many?"
"Perhaps six. They are not following the main road...you see? The tracks make for the hills, where there is no path."
"Yes, but which way did they take Legolas?" Elladan fumed. "The road would be a swifter journey, but they risk being seen along that way."
"Yet we have seen no tracks to mark the prince's journey in either direction," Palandil added smoothly. "There are many feet going on the road...a greater force than Estel warned us of. Their tracks could be hiding the prince's footprints...though I dare say he would have found some way to alert us."
"If he were able...and if he were unconscious and they were carrying him?"
Palandil grimaced. Elladan nearly apologized, he knew his words sounded insensitive in light of what intelligence Estel had been able to give them. "I do not believe Legolas would go anywhere without a struggle, unless he were too weak to argue."
Now it was Elladan's turn to grimace. That was likely the cause of the lack of signs from his friend...Legolas could be a handful if captured; Elladan had seen it himself once. It was amazing, in all consideration, how a being as lithe and graceful as Legolas could seemingly sprout eight extra arms and legs when being dragged somewhere against his will.
"No, he would not have gone without a struggle," Elladan agreed. "He must have been..."
"Let us not dwell on it," Palandil said firmly. "We must decide which way to go."
"Perhaps we should split up?"
"No," the Mirkwood elf shook his head. "That would be too dangerous."
Elladan's brow furrowed in concern, and a trace of confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Suppose one of us were to meet up with the men keeping Legolas prisoner? Even if they were the smaller group, six is not a number I would gladly fight alone. Nor would I wish to leave the prince to find help."
"Ah," Elladan sighed. "Then we must figure out which way he went."
As Palandil stooped to examine the main trail more closely, Elladan found his gaze drawn back to the tracks leading through the hills. The prints all seemed haphazard, tracks of men struggling to climb rough terrain. Except one set.
Elladan knelt beside an odd print. This set of tracks seemed to be placed most deliberately, as though this man alone had been concerned of exactly where he placed his feet. Yet there seemed to be something odd about this track.
It was as though it had a slight shadow, a secondary impression in the soil. Elladan's heart pounded...this track looked as though the man who made it had deliberately stepped into another's track—to hide it.
He followed the prints up a bit, noticing the strange impression as he went. It was not constant, but he found enough other examples to form a firm idea in his head.
And were it not for the fact that he had no other evidence of another being's tracks near this set, he would not have been so confident that he'd found where Legolas had been led.
Excitedly, he led Palandil to the spot and explained his idea. The wood-elf knelt beside the print, gently tracing it with one hand. "If only we could be sure."
"I think we can," Elladan interjected. He was kneeling beside another print, one which looked a bit more scuffed about than the others. "See here, along the outside of the foot?"
"Yes," Palandil's voice tightened as he crouched beside Elladan. "That was made by no boot."
It was only a small sign, but it was clear. "Either Legolas has come this way, or someone has stolen his shoes," Elladan commented with a slight grin.
Palandil could not hold back a snort of laughter. "I do not think even Thilator would go this far."
"Perhaps not," Elladan shook his head as he and Palandil followed the trail into the hills, the faint predawn light making their way much easier. "But let us catch them before they have the chance."
He hoped Thilator could show some restraint. If the dark-haired elf had harmed Legolas even slightly...there would be no concern about taking Thilator to Mirkwood for his punishment. Elladan would gut him himself.
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Legolas stumbled, fighting to keep his feet as he was pulled ruthlessly along the trail.
His wrists had been bound again, this time with a long rope attached which one of the men held, pulling him along as though he were an animal on a lead.
It had been Corben's doing. The man had looked so dangerous, the hatred in his eyes undiluted after his fight with Thilator. For a moment, it had seemed as though Corben was going to kill Legolas outright, but the man had restrained himself and simply bound the prince's wrists and barked out orders for the men to keep moving.
He had set a terrible pace, ordering that Legolas be dragged if he could not keep up. The young man planned, it seemed, to carry out his brother's plot of ransoming Legolas to his father. The plan was risky...while his father would risk any ransom for any of his children, Legolas also knew that Thranduil would not rest until justice was brought to those who acted against his family. Corben might be rich for a few days, but there was nowhere the man could hide if the Elvenking decided to pursue him, unless he fled to the black lands of the Enemy.
Legolas was still a bit stunned at the deaths of two of his captors. He glanced over to where one of the men was dragging a travois carrying Carmian's blanket-wrapped body. Carmian had seemed to bear such hatred for his prisoner...it was a little hard to believe he was gone.
And Thilator...Corben had left Thilator to die. Even if the elf were to somehow survive his wounds, he would surely be too weak to follow them.
He slowly grew aware that someone was walking just behind him, though he could barely hear anything over the confusion in his own heart. Legolas glanced over, meeting Corben's hate-filled eyes.
"Let me go."
The man snorted in derision at the elf's quiet suggestion. "After everything that has happened, why would I do that?"
"I will speak to my father on your behalf."
"I know," Corben strode forward, grabbing the rope and giving it a vicious tug that nearly pulled Legolas off his feet. "You will speak to him and supposedly convince him not to kill us...to be merciful."
"No...Thilator was an enemy of my family. If my father learns that you killed him, he will reward you."
"And when he learns that I was also one of your kidnappers?"
"I will not tell him." He knew it was a risky idea. Corben had no reason to trust him, but he had hoped the human would at least consider the idea.
"So you say. But if we were to free you, what then? When you are back in your palace surrounded by a circle of protective guards, will you not betray us and tell your father the truth?"
"I would not break my word," Legolas countered in a soft voice, his heart sinking as he realized the man would not listen to him.
Corben sneered. "Forgive me if I do not trust the word of an elf," he spat, jerking his head toward his brother's body. "Keep moving. I do not think your father would pay ransom for your lifeless body." With a final sneer, he jerked on the rope again sending Legolas stumbling to regain his balance.
The elf flinched. His wrists had already been rubbed nearly raw during his imprisonment, and now the rope was tearing through his skin. Corben's comment, when he saw, was that such wounds would merely encourage Legolas to keep pace with his captors.
But there had been something in the man's eyes that had sent a sense of dread to Legolas' heart. The man was certainly grieving for his brother, but his eyes showed that something had changed deep in the man's heart.
Legolas could not explain it, but he could not help but feel that he was now in more danger than ever.
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AN: I know Estel is not in this chapter, but that was because anything with him would have been deadwood. More traveling with no plot development...Eliam isn't so interesting an OC that he should tell his story here, or anything. But Estel will appear again in the next chapter and begin to take more of a part in this story.