Chapter III: My Brethren
~2978 TA Eriador~
Dolenbor walked into a small village in view of the Blue Mountains and the BaranduinRiver. It was too small to have a proper inn but one could be allowed to sleep in the stables of the alehouse if one had the right coin. He walked through the muddy street; if street it could be called. The houses and buildings were placed higgledy-piggledy and there were no proper roads, just a bunch of dirt and mud when it rained, which it had. There he saw legends milling about with pickaxes and shovels. Dwarves with long beards thrust into their belts. They ran mines in the Blue Mountains, though there are less of them now since Thorin reclaimed the LonelyMountain and his treasure far from the Blue Mountains and beyond Mirkwood, though he died in battle, Dain now rules as King under the Mountain. As marvelous as it was to see them, he had a mission. But where to begin? He had nowhere near enough information to go on and what questions to ask. He got his first clue when he went to the tavern where there was many a dwarf. Much ale makes loose tongues, Dolenbor had discovered many years ago. Before he had even found a place to sit, a drunken patron called out to him.
"Tall one!" he was the tallest in the room, "aren't all your kind supposed to be farther up north this time of year?" the drunk laughed and slapped his companion on the back.
Dolenbor smiled, "and just what is my kind?"
"The rangers, of course."
"My people are called rangers?"
"No offense, sir, but you have not been offended by the name before and begging your pardon, sir, but aren't you new around here?"
Dolenbor smiled some more and ordered an ale, "It seems I have gotten a little lost."
"Pah! A ranger! Lost!" the room burst into laughter and it was sometime before Dolenbor could ask where he might find his companions.
"Like we know! And we couldn't care less! But I hear they like to hang around the Shire and Bree a lot. Northeast of here that'll be."
One of the dwarves chimed in, "Follow the river till you get to the road. Follow it east and turn left at the fork in the road. Follow it and you shall come to Bree."
Dolenbor thanked them and drained his mug. He bought some more food before setting out for Bree. He pondered over the rangers. He now had something to go on but they all may be like Thorongil and not give any information at all. In fact, he thought that very likely. That is of course if Thorongil is one of these 'Rangers'.
About a fortnight later, Dolenbor entered into Bree. There he saw more legends come to life. He saw only a few dwarves, what had his attention this time were the Halflings. Like children they were at first glance. People glared at him as he walked pass, halflings and humans alike. The sun was beginning to set as he came to the Prancing Pony. A cozy and welcoming place it seemed. He could use a good meal after his long travel, a bath and a good night's sleep would not be turned down either. Inside the common room was warm and full of smoke and laughter.
"I'll be with you in a minute!" A portly man cried from across the room. He put some drinks and plates of stew on a table before coming over. "Now what can I get-ah! a ranger of course. You shall want your usual table of course. Shall you be wanting a room as well? Splendid, splendid. I do not believe I have seen you here before. Of course, it'll be five coppers a night or thirty-two for a week, quite a deal too. An extra two coppers a night if you want meals included with that."
Dolenbor paid for three nights (meals included) and was seated at the "usual" table. A plate of stew and a mug of their finest was set before him. He listened to the talk but he kept to himself. The people ignored him and not one mentioned anything about Rangers. Dolenbor did not see any either, nor did he the second night, nor the third. Reluctantly he paid for another night. If he did not find any Rangers this night, he would try this Shire place that man had mentioned.
The night was deepening and business was slowing down when three tall hooded and cloaked men with stars on their breasts. "Sparrow, pay for the rooms and order us some supper. I just want some food and a bed." The tallest spoke to the shortest.
"Because I'm the shortest or because I'm the lowest rank?"
"Because he told you to, stupid," said the third who happened to be his older brother. Sparrow made a face and went to pay for the rooms. "Halbarad, I believe there is someone waiting for us," Thrush pointed out as he pushed back his hood and shook his wet hair. It had been raining as they came into the Pony. "He is staring at us and sitting in our spot, though I do not recognize him. He's not one of us."
"No. he isn't," answered Halbarad sternly. Their 'spot' was a quiet table in a shadowy corner. It was a perfect place to listen and observe all the goings on inside Bree and to have a private conversation if needed. They waded through the tables and remaining patrons. "How may we help you, stranger?" Halbarad asked as they sat down.
"I am looking for an old friend of mine. I heard he was with the Rangers and since I was in the area, I decided I'd stop and see him," The stranger smiled innocently at the two Rangers. Halbarad observed the stranger's speech was not from the north, so he figured the man must be from Gondor, which made the possibility that he was friends with the Rangers was highly unlikely.
"What is this friend's name?" he asked cautiously.
"I do not know what name he goes by now," Dolenbor scratched his chin, he remembered Denethor mentioning something about an uncle and the name Estel. "But when I knew him, he went by Estel. He was living with his uncle at the time I believe."
"Yes, I lived with my uncle once, but you are no friend of mine," Halbarad stood up from the table. Sparrow returned from paying for their room and board. "Come we are leaving."
"What?! Hal, I just paid for the rooms and the-"
"Come."
"Stop your chirping and come on," whispered his brother, "I'll explain later." Someone called for Thrush to sing them a song but the request was ignored as they left the Inn. The companions were silent as they left the village of Bree. Dolenbor followed behind them at a comfortable distance. He had to know more. The rangers apparently knew whom he was seeking information about and were likely to talk about it when they got to a safe place, and Dolenbor would be there to listen in. Or maybe not. They came to the east gate, which was closed. The gatekeeper's light was off in the gatehouse, but this did not bother the Rangers. They simply climbed over the wall with great ease, as if it were the natural thing to do. He walked up to the wall and wondered how they jumped so high, there was nothing to use as a step that he could see.
Finally, he spotted a barrel next to the guardhouse. With great effort, he pulled himself up over the wall, almost losing his grip on the wet wood as he lowered himself down the other side. All the time muttering to himself about how he wasn't cut out for this line of work. He was just a simple man who wanted to find what Denethor was looking for and get back home where he belonged. Denethor hired him because he would not be missed from the ranks. Spying was not for him. In fact, he was a bit of a coward. He had only joined the army because his father wanted him to. He wanted to become a florist. Open up a shop in Minas Tirith perhaps, with all kinds of flowers: roses, daisies, etc. Maybe he could have a greenhouse and raise some exotic flowers from the North and far south.
Letting go of the wall, he allowed himself to fall the rest of the way and landed on his hindquarters. Getting up and trying to brush some of the mud off, he looked around for the Rangers only to see them disappear into the darkness.
oOo
"Someone from Gondor was looking for Aragorn?" exclaimed Sparrow. They made camp in the forests off Bree. Thrush had just finished telling his brother about the Gondorian.
"Hold your tongue Linaewë!" hissed Halbarad, "Stars above! You don't go shouting names all over the hills!" He threw his hands in the air, "And to think you are not only older than me but you've been a Ranger longer than I."
"How many times have I asked you not to call me that?"
Thrush laughed, "You deserved it."
"Consider it a punishment," replied Halbarad.
Thrush stopped laughing as he thought of something. "Hal, you told that Gondorian that you were Estel."
"He was fishing for information. I wanted to throw him off the scent."
"Why would a Gondorian be looking for Estel and how does he know that name?" asked Sparrow. "You don't think he is from…"
"No, I do not think so, but we should still be cautious. I think," said Halbarad slowly, "that the reason he knew that name is because Estel must be Gondor. In that case, my attempt to mislead him was for naught."
"You don't think he is going to, you know," proposed Thrush, "with the thing we can't talk about."
Halbarad shook his head, "I honestly do not know. He will do what he thinks is best." Silence fell upon the three. The fire crackled and sputtered. The rangers drifted off into light sleep.
Dolenbor snuck up to the camp. After stumbling around in the dark he saw their fire in the distance. He came up behind a tree and peered around it. The fire was there, but nothing else. Something was not right. He started to back away but then he felt the touch of cold steel. "I warned you." Came a hiss in his ear.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait," flustered Dolenbor, "Here me out first please." The blade pressed a little harder against his skin. "Please."
"All right, speak." The three rangers sat near the fire eyeing their prey now tied a tree.
"Is all this necessary?" asked Dolenbor whilst tugging on his bonds.
Thrush pulled out a knife and fingered it, "We could kill you now and not ask any questions."
"Right, my name is Dolenbor, I am from Gondor. The Lord Denethor sent me to inquire about Captain Thorongil. He told me he lived with his uncle and went by Estel. I don't know how he got the information, but that's all he wants, I swear. He wants information about him."
"Why?"
"Not a lot is known about Thorongil and Thorongil is not exactly forthcoming about his past."
"How much does the steward's son know?"
"I don't know, but not much more than what he told me, I reckon, but it's hard to say."
"Can we kill him now?" asked Thrush.
Dolenbor paled and gulped, "Can't we just forget the whole thing? You untie me and I'll go back to Gondor and tell Denethor I didn't find anything." He searched the rangers' faces for signs of hope but was met with grim faces, except for Thrush who was sharpening his knife and testing the sharpness. Thrush looked at Dolenbor and smiled deviously before throwing the knife and sticking it into the tree a hairsbreadth from his head. He glanced at the knife from the corner of his eye, panting in fear before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped over.
Sparrow stood up, "Great, look what you did, brother. You gave him a heart attack and killed him by scaring him to death."
"He's just fainted you idiot."
"Oh."
Halbarad examined the man and searched him to see if he could make out his story. He did not find much to go on. Dolenbor took very little with him on his person and his bag was back at the Prancing Pony. "What should we do with him?" asked Thrush. Halbarad sat back on his heels and thought. What would their chieftain do?
"If he is working for Denethor, it would not be right to kill him. Even to prevent him from relaying anything he finds to his master, however, we can't exactly let him go either, a most puzzling situation," he sighed. "I wish he were here." Halbarad laughed, "Though, of course, if he were here, we wouldn't be in this mess." They could not very take him back to Dírhael. On the off chance that their prisoner escaped, he could tell Denethor where to find the lot of them. Besides, the Dúnedain did not have anywhere to keep prisoners. There was only one other place to go and may prove to do more harm than good, but he had no other options.
*Will Halbarad order the death of a man from Gondor? Will Dolenbor find out who Thorongil is and return to Gondor? Will he ever open his flower shop? Tune in next time to Chapter 4: A Dream!