Just a Friend- Chapter 12
A bit more action here, with a familiar, if not very welcome face returning. Mwahaha...
Disclaimer: see Chapter 1
They had been going for a while when suddenly Las, who had been sitting with his eyes half shut against the tree, sat up, alert and tense. Strider's gaze instantly went to him and his sword dropped. Telan, not noticing until the last minute, managed to stop his sword mid-swing. "What is it, Strider?" he asked.
Strider made his way swiftly to Las' side as the elf stood shakily to his feet. "Mellon-nin?" he asked softly. "Man cenich?"
Las blinked. "Someone is out there," he murmured softly, placing a hand against the tree in a not so subtle effort to steady himself. "Someone the trees don't like. He is dangerous."
"Telan, get back," said Strider quietly. He tensed, looking into the trees. "Who goes there?" he called out loudly.
Las moved back as a figure came clear, moving through the woods. "Hello again," came a rough voice, and as the figure moved forwards, Strider's face tightened in recognition.
"I thought I told you to stay away," he said. "I thought I told you never to come back."
"You did," said the figure, throwing back his hood. His scar rippled again as he spoke. "But this was an opportunity too good to miss, my friend."
Strider shook his head. "I am not your friend."
The scarred man laughed bitterly. "Then I shall take you down." A sword suddenly appeared in his hand, and he grinned, his scar rippling on his sallow face. "I wanted the elf, and you wouldn't let me take him. I want him now. Where is he?"
Telan looked around, and was surprised to see that Las was nowhere around them. His gaze turned back to Strider as the man stepped forwards, bringing the wooden sword forwards.
"He will never go with you," said Strider, barely restraining the anger in his voice. "And you will never take him."
The man grinned, his eyes without mirth. "But I have a sword here," he said. "And you have nothing but a twig, and a young boy standing behind you." His gaze fell on Telan. "Hello, boy," he said softly. "Where is the elf? Tell me or I will hurt you and your friend."
Telan gulped, but he shook his head slowly. "No," he said. "I won't."
The man's grin disappeared. "Fine then," he said, his voice silky. "I will take down your friend first, and then I will take down you." He swung his sword lazily, and Strider, his face taut with anger, raised his wooden stick.
"Last chance," said Strider. "Leave now." There was a dangerous edge to his voice that made the man's face blanch ever so slightly for a second, before he smiled again.
"My friends were too scared to come back here," he said. "So I ended them, just in case. I will end you too."
"I'd like to see you try!"
The words came out of Telan's mouth before he could stop them and he suddenly clamped his mouth shut, his eyes wide. The scarred man smiled.
"You will watch me try, boy," he said softly. "You will watch, and then it will be your turn."
"Run," said Strider softly over his shoulder. "Run, Telan."
Telan shook his head. "I'm staying here," he said, even though it sounded foolish to his ears, and his eyes fell to the wooden sword in his hands. "I'm staying," he said again, as if trying to convince his hands to stop trembling.
The man shrugged. "Fine then," he said. "But I shall start with your friend first." He raised his sword, and then, in a lightening stroke, brought it down towards Strider.
Strider dodged, and the fight began in earnest. The scarred man swung his sword again, the steel blade cutting through the air, but Strider deflected it off his wooden sword and twisted away, coming up behind the man and striking his back, hard, with his sword.
The man grimaced and spun, his sword out, but Strider ducked and kicked out at his legs, making the scarred man stumble and fall back. They fought back and forth, neither of them gaining the upper hand. Strider was the better swordsman, but he had not slept for days, and it was beginning to show. The scarred man was not as good, but he was more brutal, putting all the force behind his swings that he could muster. His sword was real as well, thought Telan, not a wooden training sword.
The two men fought back and forth, and all the while Telan stood there, paralysed, his eyes watching them ceaselessly. The scarred man tripped Strider and swung his sword down over his head. Strider lifted his own wooden sword to stop the blow. It did, but the force from the scarred man's swing split the wooden sword in two.
Telan's eyes grew even wider as he saw Strider get to his feet, the broken hilt of wood in his hand. The scarred man laughed, and suddenly moved, running forwards towards Strider.
It all happened so quickly for Telan. The man swung, and Strider could not block the blow. He twisted and spun away, but the man moved his sword, catching his legs with the flat of the blade and sending Strider sprawling to the ground. He hit his head with a resounding thump on the hard, stony floor. He didn't move.
Telan's eyes didn't leave the scarred man as he slowly turned around, sword levelled at Telan. "Where is the elf, boy?" he asked softly. "Where is he?"
Telan shook his head. "I don't…" he began to say, and then stopped. He looked up, to where the branches of a tree overhung them, and his heart seemed, if possible, to leap even further into his throat.
He backed up again. "I don't know," he said. The scarred man followed him forwards, his eyes alight with a dangerous glint.
"Where is he, boy?" he asked again. Behind him, Telan could see Strider beginning to stir slightly, and the sight fuelled him with some sort of naïve courage.
"I'll never tell you," he said, his voice sounding pathetic and thin to his ears.
The man laughed. "Oh really?" he asked. "I doubt that." He took another step forwards, and Telan backed up again until he felt the hard cold bark of the tree against his back. He gulped.
"I will make you tell me, boy," said the man, his scar rippling down his face. He took another step forwards, and his sword was nearly touching Telan's chest…
When a lithe shape dropped out of the trees and onto the man. Telan jumped in surprise as the elf forced the man to the ground, Strider's dagger in his hand. The man growled, and together they began to grapple back and forth for the dagger that the elf had, poised above the man.
Telan saw Las' face as the elf was spun onto the ground, and he was surprised. The elf was not scared, even though the man had somehow knocked the dagger out of his hands. His eyes burned with a barely suppressed fury as they fought, Las kicking out as the man held him down.
But the elf was still recovering from the poison, and he was weak. The man's hand slowly closed around Las' throat, and he grinned.
"Not so mighty now, are you?" he taunted as slowly the air was cut off from Las' lungs. Las twisted, and punched the man in the face, but the scarred man held on, his hand tight around Las' throat.
Telan watched, paralysed once more. Las' struggles were becoming weaker and weaker, and he could see Strider moving, raising his head, but he would be too late, because the man's hand was tightening and Las' eyes were sliding shut, and Telan didn't know what to do, he didn't know what he was supposed to do, and the dagger the elf had had was out of reach, and…
And Telan glanced down and saw the wooden sword in his hand. And without really knowing why, he lifted it, and with a cry he ran forwards, and brought it down with all his might on the back of the scarred man's neck, and the man cried out and let go of Las, who rolled over, coughing…
And then Strider was suddenly on his feet, and he snatched up the sword that the man had dropped and now the fight was back, but it wasn't really, because Strider had a sword and the man did not, and Strider's face was full of rage, and the man fell down in front of him, in the dirt, and…
And then it was all over. Telan stood, the sword dangling limply in his arm. Las was crouched on the ground, coughing, one hand at his throat. Strider was stood over the scarred man, who was panting, lying on the ground.
Strider's face was thunder. "I told you," he said, his voice sounding like the edge of steel. "I told you what would happen if you came back."
The man went to say something, but Strider suddenly moved, and swung the hilt of the man's sword, knocking him out cold. The man sprawled on the ground.
Strider worked quickly, pulling off the man's coat and ripping it up, first tying his hands together, then his legs. When the knots were secure he was on his feet again, and in an instant was at Las' side, crouching down next to the elf with a hand on his back.
Las stopped coughing and looked up. "It's not…too bad," he said breathlessly.
Strider grabbed hold of his arm and pulled Las to his feet, supporting the elf's weight as Las staggered and coughed again. "Easy," he murmured.
Las nodded weakly, and coughed again. He looked up. "My thanks, Telan," he murmured. Strider frowned.
"Mellon-nin?" he asked.
Las smiled slightly at Telan's still shocked face. "He hit…the man over the head…with his sword…when he was choking me," he said between gasps for breath. "I am in your debt, Telan."
Telan didn't know what to say. He nodded awkwardly, the wooden sword falling out of his hand and hitting the sword with a thump. Strider's gaze fell on the man, lying unconscious on the ground.
"Telan, run back home and tell Alya what has happened," he said. "Then get some rope and bring it back to me."
Telan nodded, thankful for something to do, and turned and sprinted across the hard ground, his breath coming fast. The paralytic shock that had taken hold of him was fading now, and he could feel his arms beginning to tremble. His eyes blurred suddenly and he blinked fiercely, running around the side of the small house and throwing open the door.
Alya looked up startled as Telan ran in, her arms covered up to the elbow in flour. "What is it?" she asked. Cat peeped out from behind her mother.
"Rope," said Telan, his mind fuzzy and unclear. "I need rope."
Alya turned and took down a spare coil of rope, handing it over. "What happened, Telan?"
"The men, the ones who wanted Las, they came back." Telan was babbling now. "Well, not they. He came back. Only the one with the scar. I don't know, but I think he killed those other men when they wouldn't join him. He said he ended them. He said he would end Strider as well, and Las. I don't know."
Alya's hand was covering her mouth. She immediately rushed forwards and enveloped Telan in a hug. "Are you alright?" she asked frantically. "Are you hurt?"
Telan shook his head. "I'm fine Ma," he said, trying to hide the trembling in his hands. "I need to get the rope to Strider. They're both alright."
Alya nodded. "I will get your father from the fields," she said. "He will need to be here."
Telan nodded. He didn't say anymore, but turned and left, the door slamming behind him. He ran around the house and sprinted across the stony ground towards Strider, Las and the man, who was still out cold on the floor.
Strider smiled, but it was a grim smile when Telan turned up. Without speaking he took the rope from Telan and unravelled it, using it to tie the scarred man's wrist tightly together behind his back, and then his legs. As he finished the man began to come around, and twisted violently when he found he was tied up.
Telan moved back, and Strider hit the man around the head, making him reel backwards and stop moving. Strider crouched down. "Listen very carefully," he said, his voice quiet, yet as unyielding as stone. "You do not know who I am. You do not know what you have done. I gave you a chance to turn away. And now you are here. You are tied up. I have your sword."
The man's gaze flickered down to his boots, and Strider smiled grimly. "I did not know about the dagger in your boot," he said. "But thank you." With deft hands he pulled the dagger from the man's boot, and held it out behind him.
Telan looked up as the lithe shape of the elf came forwards from where he had been leant against a tree. Las took the dagger, his piercing silver-blue eyes not leaving the man's face.
"Do you know who I am?" asked Las quietly. His voice, too, was unyielding, but there was something else in his that wasn't in Strider's, something ancient in his voice, and suddenly Telan, looking over at him, saw the elf differently. He saw for the first time what an elf really was, what it was like to have lived for hundreds of years, and seen hundreds of things. He gulped.
The man shook his head. "It does not matter," he said, spitting at Las' feet. "You are-"
He was abruptly cut off when Strider grabbed the front of his shirt. "I would not continue that sentence," he said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Or I will make you stay silent."
The man wormed his way out of Strider's grip, spitting again at Strider. "You can try," he said. "But-"
That was all he managed to say. Strider, having picked up some torn pieces of the man's tunic he had used at first to tie up the man, stuffed them in his mouth and tied the pieces behind his head. He sat back on his heels, a slight smile on his face as the man spat angrily.
"I warned you," he said softly. "And I think that it does matter, very much, who this elf is, who I am. I think you will find this out."
Telan frowned, puzzled at his words, and the man spat angrily again. Strider looked over across the fields to see Henric approaching quickly. He untied the man's legs and hauled him to his feet.
"If you try and run," Strider warned him. "I will personally see to it that you end up in the darkest dungeon in Minas Tirith. I would not try it."
Henric reached them as the man staggered to his feet, going immediately to Telan. "Are you alright, son?" he asked, grasping him by the shoulders.
Telan nodded, but found he couldn't speak, and Henric drew him into a tight embrace. Las stepped forwards slightly.
"Your son was brave," he said softly. "Saved my life." He sighed slightly. "I am sorry. We seem to bring trouble wherever we go."
Henric shook his head. "That pathetic excuse for a man is not your fault," he said with a glare at the scarred man on the end of Strider's rope. "What shall happen to him?"
"Come with me," said Strider. "We'll take him into town. I can speak to whoever is in charge. They will keep him under lock and key until we reach Minas Tirith and send back soldiers for him."
Henric nodded. He looked down at Telan. "Go home, son," he said softly.
Strider looked over at Las. "Go back with Telan," he said quietly in the Grey Tongue.
Las shook his head. "Mellon-nin, whenever we end up separated one of us gets hurt. I would rather go with you."
"I think Telan needs someone to talk to," said Strider. "Go with him."
Las nodded, and stepped towards Telan. "Come," he said. "Let us go back inside."
Telan turned, and with the tall elf at his side, made his way towards the house.
To Be Continued...
Well, that seems to wrap things up a little better! It looks like there will be three or four chapters after this one, with a possible epilogue. Next chapter will be up on Monday. Reviews are very welcome.