Disclaimer: I don't have any rights to Tolkien's works. This is my last warning.
Chapter 3: East of the Anduin
When I came to awareness, it was slowly and with the first thing I knew being unpleasant, panting breath on my face. "Ugh, York…" I complained half-heartedly, swatting at the source.
My hand met bristly fur.
Suddenly awake, my eyes shot open and I jerked to a sitting position. Warm sand flowed between my fingers and toes as I scrambled backward blindly, until my hand landed on someone's plump belly.
I wasn't where I went to sleep.
All around me was a vast desert that was slowly turning into steppe, bordered on one side by far away foreboding dark mountains and the sun rising on the other side. One of Aunt Libby's enormous black dogs observed me balefully from slightly under a Wild West style wagon, one of a ring that contained several horses I didn't recognize, while the other one sat just a foot from me.
My companions, I did recognize. My hand had landed on Dezzie's round stomach and I took the opportunity to shove her harshly. "Wake up!" I barked at her, watching various members of my family slowly stir.
Dezzie let out a plaintive noise and tried turning over.
I shoved her in the ribs again. "Wake up, now!" I told her, anxiety growing as I stared around with bewilderment.
"Where are we?" Andy questioned, patting the sand out of her luxurious scarlet hair.
At her side, Mackey sat in a grumpy stupor, squinting against the light.
Slowly everyone woke up, questioning where the hell we all were and how we got here.
"Ask Cassandra, she has a habit of kidnapping people," Mother said waspishly.
She was ignored; this was nothing that one person could do.
Only Nan sat quietly, gnarled hands folded in her lap as she gazed around with something like wonder. Something like recognition.
That look drew me past my arguing relatives and to her. "Nan? Do you know where we are?" I asked of my great-grandmother, kneeling in front of her.
She smiled a gummy smile at me, most of her bottom teeth gone and her top denture missing. "I do," she confirmed serenely.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Those are the Mountains of Shadow," she said, pointing at the distant mountains, "Combined with the desert grass, we're in South Gondor." It sounded like nonsense, but she was confident.
"Do you know which way we should go?" I asked, aware that we had caught Aunt Libby's attention and then some.
Nan again pointed, this time north. "When we reach the river, I'll know for sure where we are," she declared in her high, wavery voice.
Thank everything that Aunt Libby took charge. "Everybody, search the wagons. We need to know what kind of stocks we've got," she ordered, fully the colonel she used to be.
Those of us in the military snapped to attention and followed the orders given. On the outside of the ring of transportation, I circled until I found a very basic carriage that looked interesting. There were two seats on the inside, a bench on the front to steer from, and when I found the luggage rack below, I grinned.
And his name was Little Bingo, I thought with great satisfaction as I hauled several cases out to look at them. They all reminded me of steamer trunks with their leather and metal fastenings, but the basic structure was more like a crate than anything. Names were emblazoned on the fastenings: Rohesia, Howard, Katherine, Liam, and Aaron.
While I was most definitely confused as to how we got here, at least I knew we weren't about to take other people's stuff. Those were Nan, Grandpa, and Gran's names as well as my little brother's and nephew's. To not be creepy, I put the cases back where I found them.
A meeting between those of us not busy crying with panic revealed that there were a good amount of provisions in the wagons and cart, along with eleven sets of saddlebags.
One of those bags had my name sewn onto it and I ripped into the contents curiously. A couple pairs of button-up trousers, a belt, a couple shirts and tunics, socks, a pair of boots, a leather jacket, a wool cloak… "Anybody else get the idea that we're supposed to go medieval?" I asked airily.
Brise and her boyfriend both sneered at that. "Like hell," Lance said cheerfully, "We're finding civilization."
"And not dying of dysentery," Brise added, referencing that stupid old game I had never gotten the hang of.
"I don't think any of you quite understand yet," Nan said, smiling absently, "This isn't where and when we came from."
Most of my siblings rolled their eyes at Great-Grandma's deteriorating brain.
I stopped short, her words echoing in my head. "Not where or when…" I murmured, the connection just out of reach.
A soft, small hand clutched mine.
When I looked down at my tiny little nephew, I noticed the ring on my finger. The silver ring with the star on it, a cheap trinket Liam had found for my birthday in the fall.
The same ring that Lourdes had shown me a picture of on the day we met.
Not quite able to believe it but not seeing another option, I picked up Aaron so that I could hurry to question Nan. "If we're not where or when we came from, then where are we?" I asked, jiggling Aaron in my arms to keep him occupied.
"This one gets it," she said bracingly, tapping me on the shoulder, "Asking the right questions." A sneaky little smile made her appear years younger than her century and some. "But I think you already know the answer, don't you?"
So that I didn't drop him, I put Aaron down. Because otherwise I definitely would have dropped him. With all eyes on me, I said in a low voice, "175 million years ago, near New Mexico."
Nan nodded.
There was a near riot. Screaming that this was impossible, shouting back that something's happened and there's no better explanation, children demanding to know what's going on.
"It makes perfect sense!" I bellowed over the din, nearly hyperventilating between the angry voices and ridiculous situation.
At least that stopped the arguing.
"I was sent to New Mexico because they found a female skeleton in those ancient tombs," I finally told them all, "A female skeleton with scars on the bones that match mine, dental work exactly like mine, and DNA exactly like mine. They found my bones long after I died and brought me in to make sure that they were right about that body exactly matching mine, and they were. We're 175 million years in the past, and we don't have a choice but to live with that." I turned to Nan then and asked, "But why?"
She sighed and grimaced. "I am so sorry," she said quietly, "but this is all my fault."
For a long moment the only noise was of the wind and the horses.
"When I was a young girl, perhaps Liam's age, my home village was attacked by… horrible monsters. We called them Uruk-hai, and they were both stronger and crueler than men. Everyone knew that whoever isn't killed would be taken, and perhaps even eaten. I prayed desperately to anyone listening, to please spare my life. Please. I'll give anything." Nan paused. "And someone answered. I woke in France, lost and confused, and only knowing that I was given my second chance- but only because I doomed my descendants to live in the time I was removed from." In a croak, she added, "I'm sorry for my selfishness."
Around then Cressie started screaming at Nan through her tears, clutching Rosie like she was afraid her daughter would disappear from her arms.
Dezzie crumpled into a heap of tears that no one could budge, kicking and screaming.
I could almost feel Brise's oncoming nervous breakdown.
"If this is only for your descendants, then why are we here?" Aditi, my step-sister, asked sensibly, gesturing to her brother and then herself.
Madhav simply huffed into his crossed arms.
"My granddaughter," Nan took a moment to glare at my sobbing mother and ignoring her screaming great-granddaughters, "claims you as her children also. I suppose that was enough for them."
After a long moment where everyone processed, or sobbed, I asked, "So, everyone agrees that we should go north?"
In my opinion Liam saved the day when he pulled a large scroll from the seat of the nearest wagon. "Hey, look what I found earlier," he said, unrolling the parchment, "The Mountains of Shadow, or the Ephel Duath, as this calls them, are here." He tucked the top of the scroll under his scruffy chin so that he could point at a spot on the south-east corner of a map.
Those of us with somewhat intact emotions crowded around to take a look. It was like nothing that I had ever seen before, writing switching between English and something I can't read between blinks. At a river in a place called Eriador, a silver star was inked.
"Looks like whoever's responsible wants us to go there," Anahera murmured and touched the star.
"Tharbad," I read to myself.
"I say we go literally anywhere else," Lance suggested passive-aggressively.
"You can do that, I'm going to Tharbad," I told him absently, "Let us know where to let you off at."
It was generally agreed to go north; there was absolutely nothing out here anyways. Really it took much longer to get the various screaming, crying, and kicking relatives into a place we could travel with them than the essential things like finding the road or hitching up the biggest damn horses I've ever seen, and two very muscular ponies, to the vehicles.
"How do you know about horses?" I asked Electra at one point while she guided an enormous Dalmatian-spotted beast into place.
"We had a cavalry charge last year," she replied on a grin, "Me being able to adapt like that is part of what got my application to the Green Berets accepted."
Out of sheer elation for my baby sister, I laughed long and hard, and wrapped her in a hard hug. "Did you really get in?" I had to ask, following her instructions on how to buckle what.
"Mhm. This last year was training, I was waiting until it was over and official to tell everyone," she answered, then frowned, adding, "Not that it really matters anymore."
I clucked my tongue at her. "Of course it matters," I corrected, "Just because we're here now doesn't mean you're not a Green Beret. It's just that no one outside the family will understand what you mean." Who knew if Marines existed, even? Or rangers like Matt? Certainly not the kind of weapons Andy has trained her whole adult life to be qualified to launch.
No one would have an idea what kind of things we're capable of. But that's alright, I told myself, stroking the noses and sides of various horses and ponies.
We've got a whole new world to explore.
There are multiple things that suck about traveling without modern conveniences like cars or, in a hot climate like this, air conditioning. Everyone not used to the heat was even more miserable than our sudden change in circumstances prompted, and I regularly thanked the sky that I had elected to ride one of the short horses rather than in a wagon.
Also, this way I didn't have to listen to Lance complain about the smell of the various animals. Or Dezzie whine about missing her phone. Or Cressie argue for the seventh time in three days that no, her daughter was not riding that pony, no matter how safe we all assured her it was at walking speed.
At meals there was more sullen silence than anything. We were all walking on eggshells around the more volatile members of the party, namely Mother and Cressie, who were liable to explode at the smallest thing. The caffeine addicts of the party spent several days as near-zombies.
However, as time passed, moods generally mellowed. We got used to being the only people around and the slower pace of things. Dezzie and Brise appeared to even start enjoying it, trotting around the caravan on other small horses to see the scenery from all sides.
I settled into a sort of state that is conveyed well by the Russian word nichego, meaning, "It can't be helped," or, "That's too bad." It's a sort of accepting resignation. We were in a world that Nan herself described as a medieval fairy tale and if I had the chance to go home, then I'd take it in a heartbeat; but I knew that was never going to happen and there was nothing else to do but resign myself to a short and bloody life here.
Except that it wasn't really that short, I remembered with some comfort. My skeleton was dated to be about 70 years old when I died. When I will die? (Needless to say, my grasp of accurate tenses is a bit shaky now.) There was no denying that my life would continue to be bloody.
Aunt Libby's enormous black dogs did rather decently out here in the steppe, built like greyhounds and their wiry coats weatherproof. Speckles and Freckles were even helpful; every few evenings Aunt Libby or Electra took them out and returned with rabbits or nutria, giving the innards to her helpers as thanks. The bones went to the corgis and puppy.
The other dogs were less than helpful at the moment, thick coats and short limbs conserving heat. Only at night were they any kind of active. That was when they did their own hunting but always came back by morning, when they would be packed into the wagons. (Try to imagine a corgi hunting, I dare you.)
As we went north the weather cooled and the land became greener. A small stream that the map labeled the River Poros was a relief; we were finally able to bathe. The water was cold but refreshing in the afternoon sun and I swore I could feel the desert washing off of me when I poured a bucket of water over my head.
The water barrels were taken off the vehicles and scrubbed out, then refilled with fresh water for the journey ahead. With a little clever math from Mackey, we were able to determine that we needed a slightly faster pace to get to Osgiliath and the Anduin with our water supplies.
Nan didn't like the idea of going so close to Minas Morgul, but even she had to acknowledge that there was no other way to get the wagons across the wide, deep Anduin. Listening to what she could remember of her youth in this odd Middle Earth place, I didn't like it either. The place seemed like pure evil.
Before we left the Poros, everything was cleaned as best we could. Clothes were washed on a wooden screen or with a dolly in a bucket and hung off the wagons to dry, once those were rinsed off. The corgis, Freckles, and Speckles taught the puppy, Gander, how to swim and dear lord, they all looked so funny when they came out of the water. Even the horses got a bath, if for no other reason than to shut Lance up.
Gradually steppe turned to grassland and then forest, with their bounty of vegetation and prey available for dinner. To have anything green in the pot made me happy, even if it was just green onions and watercress. Now squirrels were added to our diet, no matter how disgusted Dezzie and Cressie were.
Brise had it especially hard with the dietary changes, I had to admit. She had been a vegan for a while and only recently turned to vegetarianism before this all happened, system adjusting to meat while we all suffered sugar withdrawals. At least she was happy about it all being organic.
I was impressed by how well the kids were taking it all. Aaron was too young to understand what was happening and seemed to just accept the here and now, stumbling all over the campsites with an accompaniment of corgis. Rosie had only thrown one fit so far, and that was because she wanted to ride the pony.
Honestly my biggest concern was with Anahera. She was only four months along, but there was no better help around than me, and no modern hospital to be rushed to if something went wrong. "At least you know to wash your hands," she pointed out with a shrug, very nichego.
At a set of hills, we went off the road and passed along their west side. Nan had insisted that we stay as far from the mountains as possible, and that the hills themselves were likely filled with monsters. I wasn't sure how much I believed about the monsters but at least this way we could travel near the river.
It was harder going off the road, and at one point Aunt Libby had to replace a broken wheel with the rest of us acting as a human winch. At the campsites there was no fire due to fears of being seen by unfriendly eyes. The nights were quiet and tense again.
I had taken to carrying a halberd, one of the many weapons found scattered within the cargo. In the forest I clutched it ever tighter; something about this place didn't feel right. Maybe it was my instincts telling me that I was being watched, or maybe Nan's stories got into my head, but I felt that we were being watched.
"It's too quiet out here," Matt had murmured to me while we rode, leaning down from his seat on one of the larger riding horses.
At his other side, Mackey kept a careful watch on the small path we were following.
I nodded in acknowledgement. "We should keep two people on watch tonight," I suggested.
"Maybe until we get out of this forest," he agreed, "and leave our unseen friends behind."
Now that I knew it wasn't simply paranoia, I allowed my eyes to follow the occasional movement I saw in the trees. Sometimes it was a squirrel or a wolf. Other times I wasn't sure what I saw, human-like shapes that were gone as soon as my eyes adjusted. The calls of the birds didn't sound quite right.
After we passed the hills called Emyn Arnen on the map, I felt a bit better. The darkness didn't seem so complete. We were almost to a city, to some kind of civilization.
That night we all gathered in the middle of the wagons for the night, only to have a tall cloaked shape leap down from the trees above.
Cressie gave a shout of alarm.
Automatically I pointed my halberd at the new arrival.
Despite the weapons pointed at him, the man held his hands up in a gesture of peace. "I simply wish to ask, what is your business here?" he asked in a voice that wasn't particularly deep or high.
"That depends, what's yours?" Aunt Libby replied cautiously. An axe was in her hands, and not the one we had figured out was for chopping wood.
"I am a ranger of Ithilien, one of those guarding against the evil that roams these lands. Are you friends or foes of Gondor?" the stranger questioned.
An image of the map appeared in my mind, specifically the area we were passing through now. It was a part of Gondor; we were on his turf. "We're passing through," I told him simply, "We don't want trouble, we just want to cross at Osgiliath and follow the road northwest."
For a long moment the stranger seemed to examine us all. I get the feeling that his eyes lingered on Madhav, then Anahera and Nan.
In the background Cressie sobbed quietly.
"You have no evil designs upon Gondor or Rohan?" the man asked.
My voice was one of many that quickly denied the idea.
The strange man thought for a moment and then nodded his head. "You do seem to be mere travelers, having your very old and very young with you. Be wary; though we rangers are constantly on guard, this land is dangerous," he warned, "Continue north, I will send word to expect you at the city and let you through."
To be polite, I changed my grip on the halberd to bring it into a neutral stance.
"Thank you," Aunt Libby answered, "Is there anything else we should know?"
"Leave as quickly as you can," the man replied, "All lands east of the Anduin are shrouded in growing darkness." Just like that, he disappeared into the woodland.
The world seemed to return to normal then. The birds still sounded off, but I felt less eyes on me now.
"What now?" Andy asked, frowning at the surrounding night gloom.
"Now, we rest, and tomorrow we make as good of time as we can," Aunt Libby answered.
If only it were that easy.