Chapter Two: The Enemy Within

Finally, Strider spoke. "Sauron's power is growing, darkening the earth. His orcs are spilling into peaceful lands, destroying everyone and everything in their path."

Xena eyed Strider a few seconds. The company held its breath.

Gimli's subtle moaning caused Xena to turn back to her potential victim. Her fingers struck the dwarf's neck once more.

He fell to the ground, gasping.

"What did you do to him?!" Pippin exclaimed.

"He'll be all right. Who's Sauron?" she persisted.

"He is the evil that plagues this land," Strider explained. "For the time he is confined to his tower, but his minions are loyal. They will die for him."

"And so you're going to stop them," Xena said, looking at the unusual mix of characters.

"We shall," Legolas answered fiercely, his bright blue eyes burning with fire, "or die trying."

A brush of sympathy touched Xena. She knew they were sincere but she pitied them. If not for this man Strider, she knew the band would be lost.

"Our mission is still secretive but we can warn you of the dangers you'll face should you encounter these Uruk-hai," Strider said.

Xena agreed, taking a seat by the fire.

***

Gabrielle's palms began to sweat as she saw waves of hideous creatures marching toward her. She had faced countless species of enemies in the past but these creatures were different somehow. They were unnatural. She gripped her staff tightly and hardened her face, ready for battle. Still, she wondered where Xena was. Gabrielle was not convinced she could take them without her. The pointed ears, the sickly yellow eyes, the shapes of strong men but the faces of demons. And a peculiar upside-down white hand print on each of their foreheads. The creatures struck with their swords, and she countered with her staff. Yet the jabs and wounds were not enough to defeat them. Their strength was incredible. She could feel it as her staff hit, a similar feeling to when she struck it on trees, angry she had burned dinner or lost her favorite quill pen. As she fought one of these creatures, she felt a sharp pain in her back and collapsed to the ground. The creature that struck her from behind now stood over her, laughing. She hadn't the strength to get up but she weakly turned onto her back to face her attacker. He held a sword, crude but decent enough to finish off an opponent, even if things got messy. He raised it above his head. As it was coming down, she heard a familiar voice. "Gabrielle. Gabrielle." It called out but she was too stunned to respond. "Gabrielle."

"Gabrielle, time to go."

The bard immediately shot up from her blanket and said, "What?!"

Xena looked at her best friend, concerned. "That nightmare again?"

Gabrielle was disoriented. She heard the question only faintly. She took a few short breaths and looked around. Her answer came in a quick nod without turning to Xena.

Beginning to collect herself, she said, "This time the sword was coming down."

"I don't know what they put in the food in Thrace," Xena said, smiling.

But Gabrielle's solemn expression didn't change.

"Gabrielle," Xena said with resolve.

Gabrielle looked up.

"You're going to be fine. The gods just have nothing better to do than meddle in our dreams."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Gabrielle said, trying to shake off the sensation of realism to it.

Xena began to roll up her blanket. "We're not going to Ephesus. There's been a change of plans."

Gabrielle gave her a questioning look.

"I'll explain on the way."

"Way? Way where?"

The Fellowship just finished picking up its things when Xena and Gabrielle appeared. "This is my friend, Gabrielle," Xena announced. She proceeded to introduce each member of the fellowship, one by one.

Wrapping up the introductions, she said, "And this is Legolas, an elf."

"An elf?" Gabrielle said, fascinated. "I always heard elves were, well, shorter."

Legolas smiled. "A common misconception."

His astonishingly blue eyes caught her off guard. She said nothing but shyly smiled back, quickly lowering her gaze.

Xena and Aragorn both picked up on the exchange but chose to ignore it for the moment.

Merry broke into everyone's thoughts when he said, "Where's Frodo?"

Xena hadn't thought much of it. She figured he and Boromir were on a quick hunt and would be back soon to finish all the introductions.

But when she saw the concern in Aragorn's face she also grew alert.

Frodo was off by himself, trying to clear his mind and repress the pain with which the Ring burdened him.

"None of us should wander alone," came a voice from behind, "you least of all," Boromir added. "So much depends on you."

There was no reply.

"Frodo?" Again, Frodo stood silently.

Boromir continued. "I know why you seek solitude. You suffer. I see it day by day."

"I'm quite all right. I just needed some time by myself."

"There are other ways, Frodo, other paths that we might take," Boromir offered, undeterred from Frodo's denial of suffering.

Frodo's eyes grew alarmed, catching Boromir's soft-spoken coaxes combined with his slow but ever approaching steps toward the young hobbit. Frodo tried to casually move back as Boromir moved forward. He knew of the "other paths" of which Boromir spoke. Ever since Rivendell, Boromir desired that the Ring be brought to his homeland of Gondor to be used against the Enemy. Lady Galadriel's recent warning to Frodo of Boromir incited more distrust of the man.

Burdened with the Ring and frustrated with his suspicious Fellowship member, Frodo blurted out pridefully, "I know what you would say, and it would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart." Drats! Why did I say that? Frodo mentally kicked himself.

"Warning? Against what?"

Frodo kept quiet.

"We're all afraid, Frodo, but to let that fear drive us to destroy what hope we have, don't you see? That's madness."

Annoyed that orcs and an evil wizard weren't all he had to deal with, he firmly proclaimed, "There is no other way."

That did it for Boromir. Beginning with a plea, he said, "I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" The plea turned into a fit of utter frustration. Frodo, ready for flight, stared cautiously at Boromir.

Donning a semblance of self-control, Boromir said, "If you would but lend me the Ring." But his body spoke otherwise, as he closed in on Frodo and reached out his hand.

Frodo backed up again. "No."

"Why do you recoil? I am no thief."

"You are not yourself," Frodo said in observation.

Boromir's voice grew low and harsh. "What chance do you think you have? They will find you. They will take the Ring, and you will beg for death before the end!"

Frodo couldn't take anymore. The scene was growing too hostile, and he almost feared an attack.

Boromir continued to stalk him. "You fool! It is not yours, save by unhappy chance! It could have been mine. It should be mine! Give it to me!"

With determination Frodo resisted. "No!"

Boromir lunged at him and a struggle ensued on the ground. As Boromir reached for the Ring, he caught a kick in the face. With surprise covering both faces, Boromir crumbled over.

Frodo's panic that someone else may be vying for the Ring instinctively caused him to stuff it on his finger. The frantic hobbit instantly vanished, no evidence of his presence left behind but broken leaves.