"Open the gates!" shouted the sentry after an abbreviated interview with the Elves who appeared at the gates of Stony Bend.
Once they all dismounted, Elluin scanned the primary courtyard into which they stepped. The houses, many of them newly built with Greenwood timber, were in good repair and appeared well maintained. But signs of more recent neglect were obvious in the dirt-smeared porches, empty market stalls, and the debris dotting the ground. The smell wafted over the company soon after, and some ellith briefly slowed their steps as they fought to regain their resolve.
The Elvenqueen turned to one of the gate guards who had followed them in. He stood attentively, unable as yet to draw his eyes away from the unexpected guests to perform his apparent duty as guide. "Good sir," she said in the Common Tongue, "do you have an infirmary or a place where most of your ill have been brought for tending?"
"Oh, aye, lady," he stammered, gesturing. "They're in the Chieftain's main hall. You can leave your horses here, and I'll show you to the hall."
Elluin gave brief instructions as to what supplies to take from the horses' packs before nodding to the Man to lead on. He was, again, somewhat reluctant to take his eyes off the company. It was understandable—Elluin knew that, unlike in the Gray Havens, there was hardly ever any interaction between the First- and Second-born of the Children of Iluvatar on this side of the Misty Mountains. The point was enforced by the startled looks on the faces of the few people who caught sight of the Elves as they walked through the streets. Most stopped mid-stride and stared. A few children pointed and exclaimed in excitement. Elluin favored these with a smile, but did not stop, as she believed their errand to be too urgent.
Their pace did not falter as the Man led them to the center of the small town. Even though the Silvan-style garb of the ellith allowed the hems of their dresses to escape the worst of the mud splatters, the boots of the entire Elven company were soon caked as they strode through the muddy streets.
"Why have they uprooted the grass? This abused ground sorely has need of it," murmured one Elven guard to another in the Silvan tongue, his distaste absent from his face but perceptible in his tone.
"Have you not noticed? Men walk holes into the earth," his companion answered similarly. "Of course the grass would give way under such weight."
Their guide soon stopped before the doors of a large building, its stone base supporting a simple but admirable structure with several wide windows and a towering slanted roof. Two guards were before the doors, and they snapped to attention at their approach.
"Here it is, lady. The Chieftain will be within, as well, to greet you. Though, I am afraid it is the custom to leave all weapons at the door before entering the Chieftain's Hall." He looked nervously at Elluin and her guards.
Elluin turned to her soldiers and gave them a nod. They made no move. Elluin swallowed her frustration. "Soldiers," she told them in their own language, "set aside those weapons you carry openly. We are in no danger among friends."
Nidhair cleared his throat politely. "Perhaps my queen would consent to two of your guards remaining outside and armed?"
A quick glance revealed support for the idea on the Elven faces behind her. Elluin nodded her consent.
After a moment, all but two of the ellyn moved at last to set their swords, knives, bows, and quivers along the wall beside the door. None of them removed the daggers they kept concealed in boots and under tunics, noting their queen's wording and recognizing the compromise. The gatesman barely stifled a sigh of relief that his request was apparently met and spoke a word to the two door wardens, who crisply opened the doors.
"I trust my soldiers' weapons will not be disturbed?" Elluin asked them before passing through. "Many of the swords have spells upon them that are perilous to those who would lift them without their owner's consent."
The guards' eyes widened. At last, one of them replied, "They will not be disturbed."
"Thank you," she said diplomatically, and led her company through the doors. A quick glance back showed that the two Elven guards who remained behind took posts a few yards from the door, looking mildly toward the road so as not to appear a deliberate threat to the door wardens, but alert and tense enough to exude an unmistakable air of readiness.
Elluin blinked as her eyes adjusted to the gloom of the hall she entered. The windows of the hall allowed through as much of the dreary sunlight as could be expected, and was supplemented by lanterns along the walls at regular intervals. They illuminated the cots lined neatly along each wall, in an organized but obviously hastily-made fashion. The sounds of coughing and groans were frequent, along with quiet conversations between the village healers and their assistants. Well-worn blankets covered fevered bodies, and simple earthenware cups and basins could be seen between them, held by young women who looked tired and not a little frightened as they mopped sweating brows and held cups to cracked lips. The wavering scent of healing herbs was insufficient to keep the smell of many sick or busy human bodies from making many of the Elves wrinkle their noses.
Soon, the company heard sure booted footsteps approach, and soon a Man was before them. His dark hair was tied back to reveal a handsome, bearded face. His clothes were simple but well made, and he bore a silver chain around his neck. The chain swayed as he bowed, hiding his surprise at the appearance of the Elvenqueen.
"Hail, Garren, son of Borgel," Elluin greeted him gently with a bow of her head.
"My lady, welcome to our village. I have not had the pleasure of congratulating you in person on your wedding. We were most pleased to hear the news," he began honestly. But that was all the time he spared for pleasantries. The black smudges under his eyes, his subtly disheveled appearance, and the stains on his sleeves were enough of an indicator of what had been occupying him.
"Will you come see my father, lady?" He gestured to a door at the rear of the hall. "It…goes ill with our chieftain."
Elluin soon distributed her companions to help the tired Men with all the Elven magic and learned craft they possessed. The Elves sang softly together, and the sound alone lifted the spirits of the ill. The effect was increased with the beauty of the Elven faces that leaned over each bed to assess. The ellith soon set to the work, evaluating the symptoms and conferencing quickly on what herbs and other measures to prepare. They made good use of the soldiers who, despite always keeping an eye on their surroundings, readily obeyed when asked to bring water from the barrels by the door, move patients, stoke fires, open the high windows, or stir pots. But Nidhair and Aurados, who had remained grimly silent throughout the venture, were Elluin's shadows, and kept within arm's reach of her no matter what orders were given.
The Chieftain was indeed gravely ill, and could not be roused to consciousness as he lay in his fever. Elluin soon lost track of time as she fought for his life.
~.~.~
The mid-afternoon sun was flashing through the bare branches when Thranduil's company halted their horses , seeing Sadron appear on the path and hail them. He and Tinalfir were the two of Elluin's Silent Guards that remained, and had waited there at the edge of the forest to meet the group of soldiers they knew would come in pursuit of their queen.
"Sadron, what news?" Thranduil demanded.
"We have noticed no disturbance from here, sire," the ellon answered, "but we have not ventured closer. No other Men have left the village."
"None to demand a ransom, then," Cembeleg broke in from beside the king.
"Tinalfir?" Thranduil called to the canopy.
The Silvan leaped down from a branch close by and saluted. "We are far from the walls, sire, but what signs I am able to see from this distance would confirm the messenger's story. There have been few travelers in or out of Stony Bend in the last few days."
Thranduil allowed his controlled panic to decrease to distress.
"How can we get her back?" he asked no one in particular.
"We must go through with the plan, my king," Cembeleg said calmly. "You will stay here with a hundred ellyn and await our return. I will go with sixty of the soldiers and half dozen healers so we can extricate the queen and not appear a threat. If all goes well, we should reach her in an hour, and I will escort her out of the village around sundown."
"Go," Thranduil said.
"Wait," Sadron said, uncharacteristically interrupting. His green eyes were bright as he looked southeast, to where the village lay at a bend of the River Running. Tinalfir, who had jumped again into the canopy, had also pinned his sharp gaze thither.
"What is it?" Cembeleg asked as Thranduil fought to suppress the urge to spur his mount onward.
"There is a host of foreign Men moving toward the village at speed from the east," Tinalfir reported.
"What, Men from where?" Thranduil asked, rising in his stirrups and moving his horse forward a few steps to have a better view past the trees.
"Likely Rhun," Cembeleg said. "Gondor still holds the ways between here and Harad, and no Men have been seen coming from across the Misty Mountains. Rhun has some trade with the Men of Stony Bend, but if reports from the council are to be believed, they are not overly friendly with one another, correct?"
The Elvenking nodded numbly, his eyes now tracking the shadowy shapes of the warriors of Rhun as they raced across the plains. They would still be out of sight of the watchmen of Stony Bend, but in another half hour, perhaps, they would be spotted. And come dusk, the intruders would have taken the gates, and Elluin would be trapped. There was not enough time to reach her before the Rhun Men arrived.
"Since trade has stopped with this settlement, the Men of Rhun must have learned of the plague and thought to take advantage," Cembeleg continued. "While the forces of Stony Bend are compromised, they will attack the town and have all the wealth it has gained from its trades."
"From trades with the Greenwood, primarily," Thranduil said bitterly. "Our own trade with Rhun will then cease—surely they do not wish to risk our business?"
"Trade partners are not the same as allies, sire," Cembeleg said with a similar tone, and Thranduil was painfully reminded of the Sindar history. "But it is true that they would not wish to antagonize our kingdom. If they knew the Elvenqueen was within, they would not dare."
"We should intercept," Thranduil said, checking his restless stallion.
"Agreed. But they will still gain the gates before we do," Cembeleg said, gesturing for everyone to prepare.
The Elvenking's face was grim as he whispered to his horse. "Bear me swiftly, now, friend. Malice rides toward the queen. Let you and I be as Orome and Nahar—let them fear our coming as the shadows fear the light. Now, on!"