Garren had received several good reports from the men of the hall earlier, but had long since shut the door to his father's room. Now he heard the occasional sobbing of women come through the door, but did not stop to wonder whether they were rejoicing or mourning. He was much too preoccupied with watching the Elvenqueen as she worked with his father.
Since the coming of the Elves, with their fragrant herbs and pure voices, they had seen quick improvement in most of the patients. Some had their minds cleared somewhat of the haze of fever, and the burning on many foreheads decreased. Some breathed more easily, and the rash that covered most of the disease's victims seemed to become less pronounced.
Garren could see no change in his father, with the possible exception of his face, which now appeared less contorted with pain. But this was the only effect he had noticed thus far from all the Elvenqueen's efforts. She had selected from their foraged herbs a cluster of leaves and a root. Some of them she ground into a paste to apply to the rash, and some she brewed into a tea, dribbling sips into his father's mouth with the assistance of one of her strange guards. But the chieftain still moaned weakly with febrile dreams, and the burdened, crackling rise and fall of his chest was the only volitional movement he seemed able to make.
"My lady, the treatment is not working," Garren eventually ground out from his seat at his father's bedside.
"I am afraid it is unlikely we will see results this soon, my lord," Elluin countered. "And the body will do with the herbs as it will."
She turned compassionate eyes towards Garren, and for a moment, he felt that he was falling into a starry night sky. But her next words brought him crashing back to the ground.
"You must accept the possibility that we are too late, and that your father's body is already too weak to withstand this plague despite our intervention. It may be that his spirit will leave his body behind ere long."
Garren felt rage build within him, which showed in his tone. "What good are Elven neighbors if they will not share their talents? What magic does your kind have that you could withstand this plague? And why do you refuse to grant it to others?"
Elluin sighed solemnly, turning her eyes back to the old man, perhaps a decade or two younger than herself and nearing the end of his body's endurance, even had the disease not set upon him. "Lord Garren, the Elves lack the authority to prevent the Second-born from receiving the Gift of Iluvatar. And herein lies the irony: during their short years, Men grow to dominate the lands of Middle Earth, only to leave the circles of Arda altogether at their death. And we of the Firstborn, though our power dwindles on the Hither Shores, are doomed to leave Middle Earth but remain within Arda unto its end."
Garren had no patience for this cryptic talk. Rising, but not quite daring to take a step toward her after a warning glance from her guard, he spoke more forcefully. "There must be something else that can be done. What are the other Elf-maids doing that you are not? Why do my people improve while my father does not?"
"We are using the same treatments," Elluin assured him. "The chieftain's body is taking longer to accept them…if it will accept them at all."
"I think there is some plot afoot," Garren said with a frown, feeling the desperation clawing through his own chest as his father's shuddered. "Perhaps you are withholding your help in order to gain something from my father's demise."
The Elvenqueen's two guards were suddenly a step away from him. A quick word from Elluin stopped their advance before the Man could even think of drawing the dagger at his belt. The tallest of the Elves slowly crossed his arms as he glared, refusing to step away. Garren was made all too aware that no matter what move he attempted to make, he would not be able to catch these warriors by surprise. Not as he was, at any rate.
"My guards took that as an insult to the honor of Greenwood," Elluin remarked coolly.
Garren swallowed hard. "You will forgive me for pointing out the obvious," he said obstinately once his heartbeat had returned to some semblance of its previous rhythm, drawing himself up to look at her over the shoulders of the guards who had not yet moved back. "Your people may decide that if the people of Stony Bend were leaderless, or their leader new and untried as I am, that any agreements would fall more in your own favor."
"The Greenwood has been entirely self-sufficient for thousands of years, and we would fare perfectly well without any trade with other peoples," said the Elvenqueen. "Our king is not greedy. What agreements we have made have benefited us, yes, but we deal fairly." Steel entered her tone. "If you wish to continue enjoying the benefits of our trade, my lord, I would suggest refraining from leveling undue accusations."
Garren held his ground. He had no experience to advise him on the trustworthiness of the Elves now caring for his people, aside from a few successful exchanges over the past few years. And these exchanges occurred mostly when his people were desperate, lacking adequate shelter or food to survive. In his mind, it was clear that the Elves were willing to take advantage of the desperation of others through their bargains in exchange for aid.
Elluin, seeming unconcerned, returned to her charge. She spoke to her guards, and they reluctantly withdrew to assist. Together, they withdrew a stone they had placed in the hearth and carried it in a leather sling between them to a basin by where Elluin stood. Garren watched as she ladled a mixture of water and some fragrant herb over it, causing it to hiss instantly into steam, which she fanned gently toward his father's face as it rose, chanting softly in her own tongue.
She had repeated the motion only a few times before the Man noticed that the Elves were all staring at the door in anticipation. Sure enough, a few moments later, even Garren could hear the rapidly approaching footsteps. None of them were surprised at the knock.
"Lord Garren," a soldier reported in a rush when he opened the door, "there is a war party fast approaching from the east."
"What? Who are they?"
"We are not yet sure, but their formation and banners suggest they are some group of Men from afar. We are losing the light — it is difficult to make out any details."
Garren started to march out the door ahead of the soldier, but stopped short and looked back at his father. Then Elluin's concerned eyes met his.
"Will you stay, lady?" He knew almost as soon as the words left his lips what the answer would be. She would look first to her own, of course.
"Allow me to accompany you out so I may assess the situation, then I will return to the chieftain's side, my lord," she said, not waiting for permission before striding gracefully out before all of them, flanked by her guards.
"Deliril," she called once they were in the main hall, and one of the ellith stepped away from a bedside to curtsy briefly before her. "Take over the care of Chieftain Borgel," Elluin instructed, still using the Common Tongue. "Do whatever you can."
Garren did not wait for the Elf-maid's response, already moving at a brisk pace to a corner of the hall and donning the sword and sparse armor he kept there with the reporting soldier's assistance.
He would have shaken his fists at whatever power had brought him such ill luck, had he not been gripping his weapons. A good portion of his people were dead or incapacitated by this plague. The only help for the town was a group of Elves who, though fair beyond words in appearance, had yet to prove their faith to him. And his father, his constant guide since birth, was not improving… And now this, a foreign army approaching.
"Has the call gone out to the townsmen?" His breastplate hung heavy on his shoulders. He didn't remember having so much room between his shirt and the metal before. It was a harsh reminder that between his duties as acting chieftain and his worry for his father, he had not eaten much over the past several days. He grimaced, realizing that many of the town's defenders would be in a similar state.
"Aye, my lord. Whoever is able will be mustering at the gates."
It could not have been a coincidence that all this should occur now. Somehow, whoever was coming must have heard that Stony Bend's townsfolk and soldiers were compromised by disease, and decided that the time was ripe to conquer it. The settlement's position along the River made it attractive indeed for purposes of trade, agriculture, and fishing.
But who would have told them? Some trader they've had in the past week or so, surely...
Garren nearly growled in frustration as he fumbled with the buckles of his vambraces. It mattered not, he decided. He would do what he could to defend the city with only a fraction of its meager forces.
~.~.~
Seeing Elluin leave the chieftain's room, her silent guard Delwion, who had been assisting the healers in the hall, abandoned his post to join Aurados and Nidhair by the Elvenqueen's side. She barely paid them any heed, intent on getting a view of the threat. As she walked out of the doors, the two Elven guards they had left outside the hall saluted grimly and joined the group in their swift march toward the gates. They paused only to allow Aurados, Nidhair, and Delwion to gather their weapons from beside the pale-faced door wardens.
There was some flurry out in the streets of the town as any Men who were able to bear arms were summoned, sometimes forcibly, from their trades or the bedsides of the ill to defend against the oncoming warriors. There were no more eager faces in the windows, now, as the women and children were counseled to prepare for an attack and hide.
"What do you think, Aurados?" Elluin murmured, knowing that the captain knew something of the movements of foreign forces from his meetings with Cembeleg. "Who would attack Stony Bend?"
"I am not sure, my queen," he replied, eyes piercing behind every corner and down every alleyway as they walked. "We are too far north, perhaps, for Dunlendings from across the mountain to come all this way. And Harad is still closely watched by Gondor. Perhaps it is another tribe from among the Men of the plains?"
Nidhair chimed in, "I do not believe these Men would become so nervous at the approach of a group of one of their own, armed or no. It must be someone else."
By now they had reached the throng of assembled Men, who all cast uncertain glances their way as they skirted to find a clear spot on the ramparts above the gate.
"Let us not disturb them by trying the crowded main stairway up to the rampart," Elluin suggested. "Leave them to their main gate—let us find another way up."
"There is a ladder." Nidhair pointed to one leaning against the outer wall many yards away. That part of the wall was as yet only occupied by a single sentry, intently staring toward the east. Together, the Elves moved toward it. Nidhair gave the signal for Delwion to ascend alone. The guard leaped up easily and spoke a polite greeting to the sentry, who started but mumbled a response before focusing again on the oncoming host.
It only took a moment for far-seeing Delwion to make his assessment. "My queen, they are Men of Rhun, indeed," he said. "Three hundred of them, on swift steeds."
"They outnumber the able-bodied of this settlement twofold," Aurados said grimly as he watched the Men assembling at the gate.
"The Elven warriors of Greenwood the Great would count for much, I think," said Remlastor, one of her other soldiers, with a proud nod.
"I do not know if we should intervene," Elluin said worriedly. "Greenwood trades with the Men who live by the Sea of Rhun. And even though these are likely not from so far north as that, I should not like to attack our allies."
"Regardless of whether we intervene, one group of our allies will be attacking the other," Nidhair said. "But it happens that you are in this settlement, my queen, and we must protect you at all costs. I would advise that we lend our aid to these Men once the attack is launched."
"Shall we declare ourselves?" she asked. "Perhaps if they knew I was here, they would decide not to incur the wrath of the Elvenking by attacking this place."
"It is too late for that, my queen," Delwion called from the wall, shading his eyes against the setting sun as he looked northward. "The king already rides toward us from the forest, with a host of our soldiers, and he likely has plenty of wrath to spare already. But despite the pace, he will arrive long after the Men of Rhun."
Elluin felt her heart pounding, and her mind reeling with indecision. Perhaps she could save the lives of many Men by declaring herself. But if the approaching Men did not hold trade with Greenwood in enough esteem, she would be placing herself in unnecessary danger. Perhaps her own life could be spared if she were to remain hidden long enough for Thranduil to ride to the rescue, but how many would be lost during the wait?
If she were to ask Nidhair, whose primary duty was her protection, she knew he would counsel the latter option. She turned to the other captain. "What should we do, Aurados? My heart breaks for these people. I would seek to preserve them, if I can."
His gaze swept over the other four soldiers before he looked at her grimly. "Perhaps it would be enough of a warning to the Rhun Men to see Elven warriors assisting in Stony Bend's defense. I would suggest that you shelter with the ill, my queen, with half of our soldiers. Even if they manage to pass the gate, the invaders will likely avoid the Chieftain's hall for fear of catching the plague themselves, opting for a siege instead to starve out the inhabitants if they gain control of the gate. I would set the other half of your soldiers here on the walls, my queen. With Orome's favor, our arrows alone may be enough to dissuade the Men from attacking at all."
As Elluin considered, she watched Delwion explain what he saw to the eager sentry, who ran quickly to spread the news to the other Men as the ellon descended. The weight of Elluin's position suddenly felt unbearable on her shoulders, and tears sprang unbidden to her eyes.
"I am so sorry," she whispered miserably, looking at each of the five warriors around her as she spoke. "If I had not decided to come, none of us would be at risk now."
"Nonsense," Nidhair interrupted cheerily. "There is just as much risk to you in Greenwood as there is here. That is why you have guards, my queen. It's just that…we have less help for your defense at the moment than we could expect under the trees," he ended uneasily.
"Who is to say?" said Remlastor, a tone of doubt tinging his voice. "Perhaps the Men of Stony Bend will defend the Elvenqueen with due fervor."
Elluin sighed, steeling herself under the burden of her station. "Very well. Aurados, select the ellyn you wish to go to the walls. I will return to the hall."
"Please hurry, my queen," Delwion said sternly, already walking ahead and gesturing for her to accompany him. "The Men of Rhun will soon be at the gates."