The Wind raced across his face as the steed beneath his legs pushed hard against the rocky ground beside the rushing river; no words were spoken as the two rode from the village they had left but a few hours ago. The sun by now had arisen over the flat land to their right and lit the river with a yellow gold sheen. At that moment it reminded Celebrin of Rathloriel after the fall of Thingol; how he hated that river in his youth and would not dare touch it, even in the day of war when water seemed scarce. Bringing the horses to a stop, Tal-ano led them to the river where the tired steeds drank greedily from the cool rushing water; the two riders on the other hand stood silent watching the drinking horses, avoiding at great lengths the wish to speak to one another.
At last when half an hour had passed in silence the man Tal-ano spoke, his voice filled with reserve and empty of any discernable emotion, he would have made a convincing Sinda, the elf thought.
" Why was my sister in your tent unattended?"
"A painful memory awoke my sleep, she came to see if I was well…"
"She has always been a fool like that, trusting anyone who shows her the least bit of kindness…"
"You do not trust her heart?"
"I trust her heart… but her wisdom leaves something to be desired…"
"She is a wiser person than you know…"
"And what would a stranger know of her wisdom? You have only known her for four days!"
"And in those four days she has earned my respect, something few mortals have ever done in my entire span of life… It seems something common in your family, for you too have earned my respect… and trust."
" I have earned your trust?"
The man said with a scoff in his voice and lilt of his brow, to which the elf replied in a tone of voice that was grave and serious,
"Yes, for your love of her, for your sense of duty…and for your distrust of me."
Silence followed as the man took in these unlooked for words, yet deeply he listened to them in the years to come whenever he laid eyes upon the elf. Yet as the sun rose higher they rose again upon their steeds and rode quickly by the river's side as the land turned from a flat and rocky plain to one of hills and valleys of hard earthen clay. To their left rose the Fire Valley, on its farthest eastern shore. Farther south and to the east lay the bulk of it and if one were to follow the river fully they would turn westward and find a great gorge, where Two old men, an elf, and a woman defended themselves from a great sandstorm. And farther south of that lay the city of darkness, the city of Khamul; even at two days journey away in the distance it remained a great spot upon the southwestern horizon. That land, men in the west would say, had no King, no civilization, nothing to challenge Gondor and Arnor in might and majesty, yet if one were to stand upon a great mountain and face the Talath Anorui they would see great roads cutting through the lands, built by men in long ages past, men the Khand and Easterlings called the dreaded Gods of the West.
And upon an insignificant corner of this barren land two spots rode at great speed yet to be challenged by man or elf till many years from these dark days, traveling in a few hours what would take a day to travel by foot or slow pace of a horse's trot. And as the sun fell from its highest point in the sky the river came to an abrupt end falling into a deep cleft valley that housed a cave of sorts, similar to the Fens of Sirion, where the river disappeared from sight and reappeared miles farther downstream. There the man and elf halted their steeds and in the thorny brush that had grown there for hundreds of years, unkempt and wild, they stayed their ground for this was the place the ancient woman had spoken of, the place where the river ends. Both stood quiet for a while, hearing for sounds foreign to that barren place; at last Tal-ano spoke in a voice filled with anxiety and rashness,
"There is nothing here, nothing but weeds and thorns; if I did not know any better I would think you had bewitched Jzathi- ma-ala as you did my sister…in which case I should kill you now…"
With a rising of his hand the elf brought silence to the man's mouth and spoke in a soft whisper,
"I know not this land as you do, nor do I know the way back to my home if indeed I ever wished to return…but I do know the creatures who attacked your village not but one day ago… they fear for their lives and are above all things unwilling to die by their own hands unless captured…It was they who poisoned your sister, and if they fear their own poison…"
"They will carry a quick remedy…"
"Yes."
"How exactly does that help… they already have two days journey ahead of us"
"They fear the sunlight as you and your kind fear the night…it is their undoing and our fortune…The army that attacked you was made of both men and these beasts, such an army cannot move quickly without leaving some behind…so…"
"One day's journey is not as far as it would be of one kind."
Without words the elf nodded in agreement and with a sly look of his eye pointed toward an amber light that pierced the bramble of weeds and thorny bushes that began to grow as the light of the sun disappeared from the sky. Both elf and man cut their way silently through the brush and found a rather large encampment standing before them that lay hidden by the high stones and hill that littered the lands on the border of the flat sun-burnt valley to the west. To which the man said in a whisper,
"I may not be able to see you as an ally, but it is clear you have been a blessing this hour."
As they descended from the brush into the cleft the fires from the encampment glowed dimly in the night, revealing little to the naked eye save for large tents some scarlet and laden with heavy gold fabrics, others were thick and black, and their inside was as dark as the void between the stars. From these came no sound save for a grunt and loud roars of inhuman anger and rage- the neighing of horses could be heard in the distance as well as the growl of something unnatural to the ears of true beings, something twisted and deformed, like the sounds of a wolf or a dog mingled with the painful bray of a tortured beast of burden, this was the cry of the warg as it lusted for blood. In the center of the encampment stood a larger tent than any of the others and it was a deep scarlet trimmed with brazen gold that bore an opening at its top, from where smoke rose, telling of a fire within it. Through the side of the tent shadows both man and orc stood in grand profile, in heated discussion, cruel voices entered the air, speaking the tongue accursed in the west. Yet one voice, seemingly fair, or at least it once used to seem so, though now it lay heavy with some unknown woe and rasped as though the speaker had led a hard and arduous life,
"My decision is final Snaga, we leave the village alone, they pose no threat to us now"
In return came a voice as harsh as stone, and when he laughed or growled in anger which was most of the time it gurgled with trapped mucus as though all things vile and evil of the creature were kept inside,
"You are a fool! The master demands slaves! The ones in the city die too quickly to get the great weapon ready. Without newer, stronger scum to do the work He will make you bend your backs…I can be sure of this!"
"You forget worm, that I am your captain! Crowned so by the Lord Khamul himself! You follow my command!"
"Mark my words, human scum, you will fall like all the other goat- herders before you. The true Ruler of the Orcs, will return and you will bleed sweet blood for me to drink!"
Shouts followed both of men and orc followed and the sound of unsheathed metal sounded in the crashing din; outside, hidden by shadow and good fortune a man and an elf listen with intent ears and cloaked faces. And as the sound of battle began to rise a great crash as though thunder sounded broke the din and from the top of the tent a pillar of smoke rose to the sky like a green serpent and was illuminated by its own bile ridden light. The serpent fell for a moment then was stretched as though upon a rack higher toward the unveiling stars turning from serpent green to a blazing red littered with blasts of golden thunder. From the tent rose a whispering voice, bereft of all humanity, like the sound of metal running along the edge of a grinding stone and it entered the air and the bones of man, orc and elf alike,
"Sssilence you fools! What a grand army you make indeed, squabbling amongst yourselves like children…I am your master…YOU OWE NO ALLEGIANCE BUT TO ME! Return to me…and hear of my good newssss!"
The voice fell away into the night air and dissipated as though it were the sizzling of water upon a heated pan. At this the growling of the orcs ceased and the sounds of footsteps leaving the tent could be heard as the cloud of scarlet smoke dispersed into the wind. The shadow of one man stood bent in the center of the tent as the fire within died down to a gentle light and his silhouetted form disappeared behind the scarlet and gold fabric. Silence fell over the camp and it was then that the two spies crept unnoticed into the tent of the captain, unseen, and inside the elf did something he had not done in many centuries- thanked Elbereth for this small favor of being unseen by enemy eyes beneath her stars.
The tent of the captain was lavishly decorated with many diverse items all of which shimmered in the small firelight; still in the tent lay a small whisp of red smoke, fleeting though the hole in the canopy. Bent as a figure ill and lifeless the seemingly young man sat before the embers that lay scatters about the floor, to his arm he brought a device most peculiar to both man and elf, it was in form a small needle, as those that women use to sew, yet it was connected to a golden jar though a winding straw that smoked from its base and bubbled an odd metallic liquid from its top. The smell of the substance was almost intoxicating in itself, but it seemed then that the man took most of it through his arm, from where he had now began to remove the needle. From his shivering lips he mouthed words to the formless clouds of red.
"Forgive me master, I did not mean to anger you…"
The void spoke in return,
"You have served me well Tohopka, there is little reason I should destroy you…you showed mercy to the goat-herders…Why?"
"They are my people lord, I could not destroy them, not then…"
"Such loyalty is foolishness…He who shall return is your father, remember that."
"Y…yes my lord"
And with that the red smoke left the air as quickly and mysteriously as it had come, and the bent figure pulled from his shaking arm the long needle, now drenched in his blood. The gold he wore about his neck jingled as he uneasily rose and kicked dirt into the embers, lessening the light in the tent; then, weary of his ordeal, he laid upon his bed and the sounds of sleep came from his mouth. At this the elf rose from the shadows and crept in the darkness, coming to a large wooden chest that stood nearest to the entrance of the tent, silently he closed the open drapes and opened the chest searching with his hands, nose and eyes for a familiar scent of gentle herbs. The man, Tal-ano, however stood and quietly walked over to the form of his former brother lying upon the gold-laden bed; raising his crescent sword over his head he made target of the cruel man's slowly rising breast. The elf turned his head upon seeing the dying shadow and rushed with speed and agility grabbed the man by his hand in a firm grip. Tal-ano pushed the elf away with all his mortal strength and shouted in a low and vengeful voice,
"Find your drug, this is what I have come for… Justice!"
"What good is justice, when it means killing your own kin in his sleep?"
The man stood with a girt face and tense arms and he struck at a wooden chest with his blade; the sounds drew the sleeping man awake and upon seeing the two shadowed figures rushed to reach for his sword, yet Tal-ano quickly placed his own blade upon the neck of the man and stood prepared to slice it off. A smile came from the gold-toothed man as the moonlight glistened upon his sweat- laden brow; his face, though grim and shallow by firelight bore an amazing youth in his eyes,
"So you have come to kill me brother…well make it quick, you owe me that at least."
"I owe you nothing Tohopka! You alone abandoned our people…you alone broke our gentle peace with the other tribes!"
"And yet when mother died you thought little to tell me! How cruel indeed your heart is!"
"As far as mother knew she had but a daughter and one son…you were dead to her, and because of that she died from an incomplete heart."
A curse was spoken by the cruel faced man and it seemed then that Tal-ano would have severed the head from its body were it not for the voice of the elf which entered the man's ears, reminding him of their original task, weakly assenting Tal-ano placed the blade deeper into Tohopka's slender neck and spoke in a voice filled with rage and subdued violence,
"A coward you will always be to me brother, yet in the eyes of The Spirits you may have this one chance to be redeemed…Where is it? Where is the poultice that could save MY sister's life?"
The cruel man's bitter smile turned quickly into a thin line of worry and regret, and with his furrowed brow tears began to fall from their dry ducts as his wiry frame became limp and a cry broke forth from his golden mouth. And from his prostrate form a mangled voice emitted.
"By the Gods, I did not know… I ordered those cowards to not harm anyone! I ordered them!"
It was at that moment that the opening to the tent was parted and a cursed figure entered the starlit room, dragging his feet as though they were chained to a rock that sunk deep into the earth. A growl left his mouth as his first gaze came upon the eyes of the elf that shimmered like silver in the dimness, and from his scabbard was let loose a iron blade,
"I knew you to be seditious Tohopka! Holding parlay with these cursed beings!"
"Who are you to speak of sedition Snaga? You disobeyed me…an act equal to death!"
Tohopka stood at this and taking Tal-ano's sword, with movements quick as a young man, made skilled by war, he deflected the rising blade of the orc and brought the curved steel to the orc's trembling throat. A sneer came from the bent figures curved, scarred mouth as his choking laugh was followed by mucus being thrown back into the throat,
"They needed to be taught a lesson…what better lesson than to kill their princess."
His laughter came to the elf's ears and made him shiver as though he stood in the cold of the northern ice, his eye burned like blue steel and his dark raven hair glimmered in the dim light… to this the orc laughed and said,
"Wait till the Dark One hears of this… You siding with their lot…Then your head will roll, yours and all your kind!"
With that Tohopka sliced a small cut barely through the orc's throat, slender enough to prevent splatter but deep enough to cut the life veins of that wretched creature. From its corrupt mouth came a cry that sounded like a dog under unimaginable torture. Soon others followed filled with rage and wrath; and though the action was swift and precise the young man Tohopka slowly bent upon his knees, and in a manner unbefitting a servant of the Dark Lord he wept. Neither Man nor Elf knew why, perhaps it was for his fallen grace, perhaps it was for his unavoidable death, or perhaps…perhaps deep within him something broke which took years, nay, most of his life to reach a point in which a sorrowful fear could no longer be held back. His sobs broke the midnight silence and were swallowed in the din of angered growls and barks, and his tears, as though they had not wept in years, formed a small pool between his knees. Without looking at either man or elf he took from the neck of the slain orc a small pouch that was heavy with a dank smelling herb, deluged in blood. Throwing it behind him he spoke words of broken will,
"That is what you want isn't it? Take it and be gone…or…I will put you to the sword as well…"
Silently the elf took up the pouch and hid it deep in his clothing, behind his silver gray sash, which now was stained with impure blood, as he turned to leave he looked behind him and Tal-ano knelt beside his former brother and placed a small necklace beside the other's knee, it was not made of silver, or gold, but of doe hide and twigs, formed into a circle of red, blue, yellow, and white…it was strange to the elf who gazed upon it and kept the memory of it all his life and only once asked what it truly meant…
The two travelers stole into the brush amid the crowding throngs of men and orcs; none saw them pass, and none saw them leave, save a scout and though he shouted to his comrades his words fell on deaf ears. The moon passed the highest pinnacle of the sky when the two silently rode beside the river's edge at a pace faster than either had ever ridden. They did not stop for rest, or water only to hear the cries of a man stabbed in the heart, yet it was not a cry of pain but of battle, a war cry to the distant stars…
By the first hour of the morning two figures entered the village of Tal-ano's people and though the horses dropped from exhaustion beside the river's edge the two riders ran into the tent of Jzathi-ma-ala; and as they did so a mournful cry entered the air as though it mourned a great passing.