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The Forest

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Nightfall came as the comforting sounds of Eithel Irvin grew more distant behind them. Soon the pines gave way to more oaks and ashes and other trees whose yellow leaves were shedding copiously in the waning of the season. But the travelers could not enjoy the sight of them in the dark, and pressed onward until the woods became sparse and soon turned into open plains. Here they picked up speed, anxious to move beyond sight of the Sirion Pass and reach the cover of the Forest. They were fortunate to find small patches of woods in which to rest, or more specifically allow their mortal charge to rest, taking great care to keep as still and quiet as possible when they did.

The Teiglin River they followed south until it reached the Crossings. As their travel had been without incident thus far and the reports which prompted the journey indicated the forest to be well protected, shortly after passing into the Brethil Forest they at last relaxed their vigilance somewhat, feeling safe enough under its eaves for lanterns and firelight. In the fading light of early evening several of the party wandered off to forage and hunt for what wild harvests the woods could provide, to supplement the provisions they had brought. Mírian meanwhile wandered back eastward, curious to have a closer look at the river, planning to collect some of the berries and fallen nut pods she had spotted on her way back. She gazed down in awe at the mighty falls and rapids deep in the ravine, and placing her bow on a stone ledge just below the edge of the river's high bank, she climbed down a ways to explore the boulders and cliffs before the daylight failed. At the bottom the sound of the rushing water was quite loud, and she could hear nothing of the world above. After a while she saw that it was growing dark, and finally she filled her water containers and climbed back out.

But upon reaching the spot where she had started, Mírian found to her dismay that her bow was missing. The shades of evening were deepening with little light left but the last bit of day behind her and the stars of twilight steadily growing stronger above, and she could not hope to look for tracks on the gravelly banks. She headed north along the river's edge toward the crossings to find the road into the forest, but to her alarm she found there the marks of careless trampling by a large group, leading straight toward her camp. Mírian knew enough about the servants of the Enemy to understand who likely made them. Suddenly she heard shouts and cries ahead in the distance.

Pulling her long knife Mírian dashed back in alarm through the forest to find her companions. She came to the clearing where her camp had been, but the fire was out, and no one was there. Looking around in the dim light of the forest at sunset she tried to gauge which way to go. Her heart was pounding as she stood there alone, mustering the courage to put to use her years of childhood training in a genuine crisis far from home. But she did not get the chance. Suddenly from the boughs of a tree overhead came the sound of cracking branches and rustling leaves, and just as she looked up something was already coming down on her from above. Gripping the handle with both hands Mírian held up her knife against it, but she collapsed to the ground as it fell on her, and saw no more.

*.*.*

The large Orc leading his company homeward had spied a figure climbing into the ravine, and tarried a while. He did not plan to stay long, but paused in curiosity, finding it most unusual to see a lone elf wandering so in the open, especially a maiden. His troops relayed word that elves had been spotted amid the trees, so he directed some of his soldiers to harry them as the rest of the company shuffled ahead, so there would not be any chance for enemies to waylay his mission. This Orc was more shrewd than most, and just as he was getting ready to move on, he caught a closer view from the bridge and noticed a faint difference in scent, and realized that although she had the garments and bearing to match the elves nearby, he was in truth looking at a mortal. So he went over and fetched her bow, breaking it in two and casting it into a thicket nearby. Then he headed into the forest and hid in view of her camp, and waited. When she finally reached the site he then pounced on her from a low tree, in an old trick which they often used in those days. But she managed to gash his arm with her knife, which he took and promptly broke also, also removing her cloak and containers and quiver of arrows. Then he slung her over his shoulder and took off in a sprint. He caught up with his company who was already moving northward with great speed, and dropped her down when they stopped for a brief rest near the end of the woods upon crossing the Brithiac.

"Wudjya bother bringing that fer?" one of his fellow raiders asked him. "Them maidens run too slow for the haste we're to make. Is it dinner for the wolves?"

"No!" he snapped.

"String 'er up for target practice," another jumped in, "then feed 'er to the wolves."

"Looks like the rabbit bit you there, cap'," interrupted another. This earned a round of chuckles from his comrades.

"No!" he barked, and paused with a snarl to flash a threatening glare. "Strap 'er to one of the ponies. Them wood elves don't take up with these stinkin' mortals. I bet any amount a' gold she's high kin to those sniveling elf-friends Master hates most. Master or his worm can question her, and we can get a fair reward for the extra offerin'. A better assignment maybe, at the least."

"And I'll be makin' sure she pays for this before we get there," he added, referring to the wound on his arm as he fished for his healing things.

Seeing some sense in his reasoning, and the promise of good fun with an extra captive, they gave no more resistance. And so, having driven the elf encampment safely off a good distance, the company of orcs continued on their way.

*.*.*

The girl's companions in the meantime had marked the troop of enemies approaching, and had all managed to flee safely. And the orcs gave little chase to them, being in a great hurry to avoid attack by the Men of Brethil and deliver their target captive swiftly. The elves then tarried a while in search of their charge, finding to their distress most of her things heaped in a pile, damaged or destroyed. But most of the group were wary of further danger and anxious to get the rest to safety. They had little choice but to go on their original path, and beseech the great elf king for aid. But their journey was still long yet, and they knew the trail would grow cold by the time they could find help.

Cúdolin was an experient woodsman, and he tried to follow the enemy trail for a short while. But they were already long gone when he started after them, and soon he returned to the group. For it was now quite dark, and he was the only seasoned fighter among them, and he could not leave the rest unguarded and unguided for the remainder of the journey. Some of the older boys had offered to help him, but they were unseasoned and the women were adamant against it, as was he. But it pained his heart grievously to forsake a rescue, and he stood staring northward, clenching his fists, wrenched with dread and anguish.

They all stood in silence, their hearts heavy with their loss. Lothaelin cursed herself for insisting on separating the children and bringing the girl along, and Cúdolin rebuked himself for insisting they go east not south. But then Gilduriel said to both of them, "The Valar set for her a task to the succor of the elven kings. Believe not that they will fail her now. Take comfort! My heart tells me that her road will take her whither she needs to go."