CHAPTER IX
AN UNLIKELY REUNION
"Annalyn!"
Haldir called out, bow in hand, as he closed the distance to the maid of Rohan. She stood but a few paces from the foul creatures that he'd skewered with his true aim. His keen gaze discerned the quakes of her form long before he reached her. He watched her expression flicker between surprise and puzzlement as he neared.
"Are you well?" Haldir asked, thinking she might have hurt herself while falling from the saddle.
Annalyn's quivering breath frosted in the cool night air. "Haldir?" What are you doing here? her eyes seemed to say.
It had been a close call, his timing a sheer stroke of luck. Earlier that night, Haldir had been tracking a scattered horde of Orcs when he had spotted the fleeing company of three, shortly before they had sought refuge in the forest.
It had been a troublesome sight, prompting him to sprint over grass and rocks in hopes of reaching the company before tragedy befell them. Given the distance he had to cover, Haldir had lost sight of them for a time. For nearly two hours he had hastened across the land. He had not yet reached the woods when Annalyn had emerged from the forest, riding with all haste to escape the Warg and rider on her tail.
Fortunately, her chosen path had brought her nearer to him, and he had been able to kill the creatures just in time. Presently, their foul stench assailed him as he walked by, but Haldir ignored their lifeless forms, and continued toward Annalyn.
As a weary but grateful smile came to paint her face, she beheld him with a blend of wonder and perplexity. "How did you… Where…" Her mouth worked, but her query would have to wait, for a howling was suddenly borne upon the wind, evidence that a Warg yet lingered in the area.
With a frown knitting his brows, Haldir cast a sweeping look into the gloom. "We cannot linger here."
"But my kin…" Her fretful protest matched the concern on her face.
"One thing at a time," Haldir told her, but not harshly. He peered out into the valley again. "Riders prowl the area, and the horde is but a few leagues that way. It would be unwise to remain out in the open like this." But first things first, Haldir needed to seek the arrows he had loosed. Once his quiver was restocked, he straightened and saw that Annalyn had retrieved the blade she had lost when she had fallen from her horse. Her hand rising to sweep an errant lock of hair from her face, she nodded once to indicate she was ready.
They set off at once.
Having no clear idea of what had occurred in the forest, Haldir thought it best to find a safe vantage point from which he could get a better sense of what they should do next. "There," he whispered at length, indicating a small cluster of pine trees that stood between their present location and the dark woods from which Annalyn had emerged.
Wordlessly, the two hurried forth. As the landscape rose and fell beneath their feet, Haldir kept a careful watch over his surroundings. At one point, he motioned for Annalyn to stay low, for there were at least three Warg-riders out here, their dark shapes visible to his eyes. At present, they were lingering about, weaving their way among rocks in the distance. Likely they were searching for Annalyn.
In a sense, she and her kin had been fortunate. When Haldir had first spotted them in the distance, their presence had apparently gone unnoticed by the creatures. But as the main host had continued on, a small band of Orcs and Warg-riders had broken away quietly in order to pursue them into the forest. It spoke of their murderous voracity, for Orcs were selfish and distrustful of one another. They did not readily share in their killing and plundering.
In the present, Haldir had almost reached the pine trees when a retching sound severed the stillness. Turning, he saw that Annalyn was bent forward, her hands braced on her knees as she vomited upon the grass. The night's events had overwhelmed her, it seemed.
Uncertain of what to do, Haldir winced at the sound and cast a look toward the distant riders who, for a mercy, did not appear to notice. Once her stomach had settled, Annalyn spat a few times, before moving past him with averted eyes.
As they sought cover in the trees, crouching beneath thick, green boughs, she reached for her hip with a trembling hand, only to realise that something was missing. Not her sword, Haldir noted, and deduced what it was.
"Here." Reaching for his waterskin, he offered it to her, but she hesitated. He could not miss the embarrassment in her hazel eyes. She thinks I pity her, though to be honest, he did feel bad for Annalyn. Clearly, she had had a wretched night.
All the same, she accepted the water in the end. Mindful not to touch her lips to the opening, she tilted her head back and poured a small amount in her mouth before swishing the liquid around. Eyes scrunched tightly, she drew a tremulous breath through her nose, spit off to one side, then promptly poured another mouthful, but swallowed this time.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Annalyn returned the waterskin with a curt nod of thanks. It was then that another growl echoed in the night. Closer this time.
Haldir studied the copse in which they were hiding. To lessen their chances of being seen, he motioned to a bowl-shaped hollow in the ground, less than two paces away, at the foot of a large pine tree. With a nod of understanding, Annalyn retreated into the sunken depression, while he remained where he was. In a crouch, he donned his hood, and turned his focus on the dark valley around them.
Haldir's cloak was superbly strange, woven with magic perhaps.
As she drew her arms and legs tightly into her body, Annalyn forgot the sick feeling in her stomach and focused instead on her unlikely companion. What's he doing out here? she wondered even as she marvelled at his elven garb. Of course, Annalyn had seen his cloak before, but for some reason had never noticed how utterly effective it was in concealing his form. At once grey and not, the fabric blended perfectly with the night-clad wood. Not only that, but Haldir was so still, he could easily pass for a shadow cast by something solid and unmovable. A master of concealment indeed.
Another growl breached the night, bringing to mind those dreadful fangs, and the gaping maw of the Warg's mouth—the one that would have torn her to shreds had Haldir not intervened in time. A fell voice echoed just then, and another voice answered, deeper and more grating but just as foul. She could not make out the words, but she guessed the Orcs were still searching for their prey, for her.
Annalyn stiffened at the thought, and wished she could see the valley from here. To gauge what was happening out there, she kept her eyes on Haldir. His bow was in his hand, but he had yet to draw an arrow from his quiver. The riders must have been far enough away, then.
The wind picked up a little, a single sweeping gust that brought the scent of earth to her nose, along with a fleeting waft of cedar.
The voices were clearer now, speaking in a harsh tongue she did not know. Her stomach dropped. When Haldir raised a fluid arm toward his quiver, grabbing and silently nocking an arrow, it seemed her ears were not mistaken. The Orcs were drawing near.
Several thundering heartbeats went by. Annalyn made herself even smaller as Haldir drew the string back, slowly. Instead of releasing the arrow, however, he waited with supreme focus while she held her breath, dreading the encounter that was sure to follow. But then, unexpectedly, Haldir eased the tension on his bowstring, and lowered the elegant weapon. The riders must have been moving away.
With a nod, Haldir indicated that it was safe—well, safer. She climbed out of the hollow, but remained close to the ground, and to Haldir. The Orcs were still out there, but it was dark, and her eyes could not see them, unlike her companion who seemed to be tracking their path.
As they watched the valley together, the smell of cedar wafted to her nose again, and she wondered if it was Haldir's scent or that of the trees. Looking around, Annalyn saw naught but weathered pines. Strange, she thought and looked sidelong at him. No, the scent was definitely Haldir's. It was pleasant, she noted, clean with a subtle but spicy undertone, like cloves almost.
Her mind shifting to her present situation, Annalyn asked if he could see her kin somewhere. At the shake of his head, she despaired a little. "And Cobalt?"
"Nay."
She willed her frantic heart to slow. "They are out there somewhere. They are safe," Annalyn declared, mostly to reassure herself.
Night was nearing its end, and a faint band of light could be seen just over the eastern horizon. Stooped shoulder to shoulder with Annalyn, Haldir watched the valley until the upper edge of the sun appeared, sending bright orange light upon the land. The Orcs had long since abandoned their hunt, and the distant horde had gone to hide somewhere.
Thus it was that their watch came to an end. Rising to her feet, Annalyn crossed the sheltering cluster of pines. At the opposite edge, she turned her anxious gaze toward the looming forest from which she had emerged last night. With her back to him, she fell into silence, and studied the tree line.
Now that they were well away from unfriendly eyes and ears, Haldir decided it was time to give voice to the questions that were swirling about in his head. Rising also, he said her name, and watched as she turned her head slightly, but not enough to meet his gaze.
"Your uncle and cousin," Haldir began, but she interrupted him.
"We were separated." A beat went by, and then another. "I know not where they are." Though her words were tinged with worry, Haldir discerned something else in her tone—self-recrimination perhaps? After a heavy silence, Annalyn finally sought his eyes, her voice a mere whisper when she said, "But I'm going to find them."
It was a promise, he realised, one she had made to herself.
Haldir appreciated her resolve. With silent footsteps, he made his way to her side, and pondered the forest along with her. "I shall go with you," he declared, and felt her eyes on him.
Her delayed response betrayed her surprise. At length, she expressed her gratitude, and followed with an even softer utterance. "You are very kind, Haldir."
This took him aback, for "kind" was not the first word one usually ascribed to him. Grim, efficient, commanding, he had been called over the centuries. But Haldir did not think himself unkind. If he seemed cold at times, it was only because he was cautious, and needed to be.
That being said, in the short time he had known them, Haldir had come to respect Annalyn and her kin, thought they were decent folk. And while he had been sent for a specific task, he could not turn a blind eye and leave her alone out here, with nothing but a sword and the clothes on her back.
Besides, the hordes were easy to track. He had caught up with them once. He could do so once again.
"It should be safe enough now. We should go," Annalyn said, and was leaving the cluster of trees when Haldir noted the unsteadiness of her steps. Still shaken from the chase, and worried sick for her kin, Annalyn was in a somewhat sorry state.
Hesitating, Haldir glanced at his pack, then called her name. "You should eat before we depart." As she frowned and doubled-back, he opened the leather flap, and produced a leaf-wrapped bundle.
It went against custom, he knew, for this elven travel-food had been made by Galadriel herself—who, in turn, had learned the craft from Melian the Maia, long ages ago. It was special fare indeed. Some said that the recipe was first conceived by Yavanna, the Vala known as the Giver of Fruits. Lothlórien had stores of it—mostly for the use of its soldiers—but seldom was this food given to outsiders. But as he stood there, hand outstretched, Haldir felt that the Lady would forgive his decision. For the march could prove long and tiring for Annalyn, especially since they had no idea where her uncle and cousin had gone. For all they knew, they might be leagues away by now. North or south, he did not know.
"What is it?" Annalyn eyed the leaf-wrapping.
"Elven Waybread," he explained, adding that the Elves called it lembas. The Lady Galadriel, for her part, usually referred to it in Quenya, the ancient tongue of her people. Coimas it was called by the Noldor. Life-bread.
Under Annalyn's gaze, Haldir unwrapped the golden cake, and explained its nutritious properties.
Her brows shot up. "A single bite? You jest." Now her mouth quirked. His did not. Little as it might seem, Waybread was incredibly nutritious and filling. A single bite was enough to see a grown man through a full day's march.
"It is no jest. Eat, or else you might grow weary during the march."
She examined the bread for a moment, turning it this way and that. When Annalyn finally sank her teeth into it, he literally saw some of her weariness ebb away. Humbled, she returned the remaining portion with a murmured "thank you" and watched as he wrapped it again.
Since the surrounding land was now bathed in early-morning light, Haldir agreed with Annalyn's earlier assessment that it was now safe enough to strike out across the valley. As they marched in the gathering light, retracing Annalyn's path, Haldir finally asked about her kin. "Where did you last see them?"
"It was dark. Disorienting," she confessed before remembering something. "We had been hiding near a stream when they found us. I think we followed it for a short while."
It was not much to go on, but it was a start.
In contrast to the clear morning sky, the forest ahead appeared dark, the spaces between the trees veiled in shadow. His thoughts shifting to what might be lurking within, Haldir scanned the approaching tree line for any sign of movement, but saw nothing. The only sound was that of early-morning songbirds.
Haldir and Annalyn continued in silence for a little while longer, the forest looming ever closer with every step. They had not yet reached the tree line when Annalyn spoke once more. "I should have paid heed." The words were flat, her eyes set in a vacant gaze. "I should have looked where I was going."
Uncertain of her meaning, Haldir frowned slightly and waited for her to elaborate. She did.
Her voice lowering a notch, Annalyn described the chase and how she had erred, straying from her kin.
She blames herself.
But none of this was her fault. Stopping in his tracks, Haldir leveled his gaze at her. "We will find them, Annalyn."
Though their fate remained a mystery, Feran and Aldin were out there somewhere, hopefully alive.
"Come," Haldir said. "We have a stream to find."
Thank you, thank you, thank you! To all my readers. Your continued interest and your comments have been the best reward I could ever hope for. Truly, you have made my week. For those who wish to continue the journey, the next chapter has been posted.
Kindest regards,
CygnusRift
