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Get your own Free Home PageVinhir, South Belfalas
Mara Gadianton stopped and bent, avidly trying to get some fresh air. She held
her back against a large oak and closed the eyes for a moment. She had evaded
her pursuers, she thought. In front of her stood the small village, but to her
surprise it seemed to be fully awaken.
"At least the pirates won't find me there...". She moved in silently.
***
Reacting quickly, Fletch looked around for the small creature. Seeing it had fled from the scene, Fletch gave chase. "Talis!! Ware" He shouted as he emerged from the burning barn.
Talis leapt at the sound as Fletch appeared and swiveled to track the flaming furry ball.
Once outside the Hobbit took his bow and aimed at the fleeing creature, he then let fly his shaft praying that it would be on target.
Hearing the shouts, Meneldor appeared from behind the haystack with his longbow ready for action. He aimed at the small furry being but raised his weapon again, afraid of hitting the small Hobbit that stood between him and the creature.
With practiced ease the Dunadan ranger drew back and let fly with an arrow already cocked, still moving to match speeds with the target. "Whose flight will reach first, I wonder? " he thought.
With his breath held, the Hobbit followed his own arrow raising in the sky and then falling just in front of the small creature. Instinctively, the being stopped and his screams filled the night. He started to roll on the floor, trying to put out the fire that was already reaching the skin.
Practically immobilized and like a candle in the night, the creature presented an easy target that a bow master could never miss. Talis's arrow flew straightway to the furry creature, unlike the arched volley from the Hobbit. It caught it between the shoulders and put an end to all the screaming and the being's despair.
In that moment, metallic sounds and heavy steps filled the night. Turning south,
Talis saw an armed group led by Cirlin reaching the barn.
"What on Ea is going on here?", the tall Dunadan headmaster addressed Talis,
pointing the tip of his sword towards the little body that laid aside.
Two Belfalean men-at-arms and seven villagers closed ranks behind their
captain and rightful local authority.
***
Training fields of the Prince, Dol Amroth
Aratan looked at the two group of soldiers arrayed before him.
The Cambeleg looked splendid. They were as tall as Aratan and had fierce looks on their faces. They had been equipped with heavy equipment of superior quality. Each one wore a full breast plate mail that caught every torch ray and reflected it in all directions. Under the armour a dark blue wool shirt protected the Dunedain' skin and stretched down until knees height. The marines possessed beautiful helms and greaves that had been engraved with words of old and sported short and sturdy swords hanging from their belts. On their right hands they carried a long pike and, resting in front of them, a large shield portrayed a white boat over a deep blue background. Each one also had a short bow and quiver hanging on their backs.
But the Cudin seemed unimpressive. They wore rigid leather armour over a similar shirt as the Cambeleg, but their was blood red. Although all the men had composite bows on their backs, the other equipment seemed to be of the owners own choice. The assorted material ranged from slender daggers to heavy clubs or even some superb and expensive swords. Some had shields or helms and others had unusual equipment like ropes or nets. One even had a skull hanging from the weapon's belt. They hardly seemed an unit at all, but rather a mercenary company. Those men portrayed a vast range of colourings and lineages. Although they were well aligned and with the formal posture, their casual poses and joyful smiles irritated Aratan from the beginning.
Two soldiers exchanged a quick conversation.
"What was that? Explain yourself, soldier!"
The short archer moved his feet uncomfortably, but his companion smiled and
replied for him to Aratan's surprise.
"We have never served under such a young captain, sir."
"Who gave you the authorization to speak, soldier?"
"You asked and..."
"Shut up!", cried the enraged Captain. He addressed the short archer once more,
"What's your name, soldier?"
The archer blushed and his companion came to his aid again.
"I am Fundkish Hama, but they call me Cleaver. And this small one here is
Half-Piece."
Aratan was fuming with such unseen behavior. In less than a minute they had
already broken more rules than Aratan had saw or thought possible in his navy
career.
"Sergeant Fletcher!", cried Aratan without lifting his eyes from Cleaver.
"Sir!", came an answer behind him.
"This man will be confined until the Ice Dragon leaves the harbour."
"Yes, sir.", the leader of the Cudin men replied in a low voice that also
surprised Aratan.
***
The fire was spreading quickly and the smoke already filled the barn.
"Bogas my friend, outside!", commanded Benil. He turned and threw his staff
out the door.
Reluctantly, Bogas obeyed. Benil could hear the dog barking at the barn as a sign of protest. The shepherd frowned but went on to the more pressing maters.
Rolling Leif over he picked up his sword and placed it into its sheath. "Better not forget this, or he will have my head, I think.". Picking Leif up he carried him over his shoulder and moved as quickly as possible, but without trying to do any more injury to the Rohirrim than was already done.
Seeing Benil rush to Leif's aid, Meneldor turned his attention quickly to the
creature he sensed earlier. Cautiously he checked whether or not it was still
alive. The creature had his neck broken, his face wide with terror. The elf
was the first one to really look at his face. It was mostly human though with
much darker and harder skin and slightly distorted, a rough appearance. But
his eyes seemed to portray a very deep nature, that only elves or very special
humans have.
***
While Talis explained the incident to Cirlin, a Dunadan from the headmaster retinue called aloud, "Fire! The barn is on fire!"
From the roof, large clouds of dark smoke rose high and the first flames
licked the ceiling. Talis reacted immediately and ordered his men to gather
the proper equipment in the village. Soon, the confusion was settled.
***
Once outside, Benil looked surprised with so many people, but rapidly forgot
the turmoil that was going on. He gently settled down Leif on the earthen
soil. The warrior opened his eyes but his face remained still.
"You'll take some time to fully recover, friend.", said Benil in a low voice,
"You need to rest."
The warrior closed his eyes and went into a heavy sleep.
Benil stood up and cleared of the ash that filled his clothes. He picked up his staff and whistled at a high pitch. "Here Bogas, here boy!"
Bogas returned to his master and traced a few circles around him. He looked happier but still disturbed. But his master did not wait and walked once more to the warrior. He bent down beside Leif and quickly looked him over. Seeing the arrow sticking out and the bad cut above he shook his head. Breaking the arrow he removed it as gently as he could and using some clean rags and water out of his water skin he cleaned it up as best he could.
His mind settled a little and the fair shepherd allowed himself to take a long and calm supply of fresh air. His eyes rolled around to make sure that Bogas was in no trouble.
The dog waited seated, his face slightly turned to the left side and his hears
raised. Noticing that his master gave him attention, he started to run around
him once more. He seemed upset, even frightened. Once in a while he stopped the
maddening race, looked at the barn and barked furiously in that direction.
***
Mara got hold of the blanket that hang on the window. A farmer crossed the
street leading his chicken and mare, still showing some signs of distress.
She raised from behind a barrel and noticed a small child seated near a door,
eating a great piece of pie while playing with his pet.
"Calm down Anduin. Here...", he threw a bit of the pie and his dog raced after
it.
That was too much for the starving woman.
She raced past the boy and stole the food before he could understand what had
happened.
Behind her, shouts and barks raised even more shouts, but she did not slowed
down and kept running with her mouth full.
***
Burning balls of hay rained around Meneldor. The elf pushed the slim creature two meters aside, where he could stand under the second floor and for a moment be free from the fire.
In the place where the melted sword had been, something shiny caught Meneldor's attention but it seemed like the reflection of some of the 'dark water' that used to be the blade. Meneldor kept pushing the creature's body.
The seer closed his eyes and placed his hands on to the creature, muttering strange arcane words. Meneldor hurried since the creature's soul seemed to be leaving his body.
With the eyes closed, Meneldor's face gave a faint nod of satisfaction and then fell in a heavy, somber stance. He was fighting for control. Meneldor fierce spirit did not broke his concentration and he immersed in a particularly deep pool of his mind. He had forced his way. He tried to project back to his mind the two strange humanoids that he had dreamed of once before. He was not successful at first, but then something formed in front of him. Misty at first but then it became very real. Yes it was the road again, as in the dream. Suddenly, coming from nowhere a creature appeared. It looked like Meneldor himself or his own reflection came alive.
"Leave this path, old one. If you proceed you may find what you seek but the fire will burn your being. I am Meneldor. I am the old. I am your past. I used to held your future but someone stole it from me. You cannot go through me. You cannot go through your past. It's too late. Leave this path, old one. The answers you seek will call the Fire. But Water it is. After all it may be you that stole your future from me. Or the fire did it. Turn away, old one, but don't look back. There's someone behind you. He knows you. He seeks your eyes. You cannot fight him. You will be blind if you turn around. He want your eyes. Never, never look behind you. You will burn. Leave the path at once, old one."
Meneldor's spirit sensed the danger and heeded the warning in the vision. He
opened his eyes again and after a moment of confusion he quickly moved out.
The second floor had already caught on fire.
***
It was too late. The villagers had brought water and wet towels but the fire
was too big now. There was nothing they could do. They stood there until it
came down.
***
After examining and giving a just burial to the small being, the six companions left the burning barn and Cirlin behind, heading for the village. Leif was awake and riding Lessa but it was Talis that held the bridle.
"What do you think about this small being, Blanchom?", Talis asked.
"I don't know. It seemed intelligent, but... I never saw one alike. Smaller
than a Hobbit he was."
"Not a Hobbit!", Fletch seemed offended, "He looked like a small bear to me.
His eyes were strange and he was too thin for a Hobbit. You saw, he had hair
all around and not only on the proper place."
"Proper?", asked Talis.
"The feet.", said Leif, smirking oddly...
The companions laughed for the first time this night.
"And head!", added Fletch harshly thinking that, after all, helping Leif had
been a bad idea.
"Both of them used a strange language. They are not from this realm.", Leif
observed.
"One disturbed the essence of the barn.", Blanchom remarked, though no one but
the seer seemed to have understood. "He was a spellcrafter.", Blanchon explained.
"Like you?", asked Talis.
"Not really. Not a real spellcaster, but a spellcrafter.", Blanchom's voice seemed
to float far away, "They have no masters. They follow no law. They create
their own knowledge and none is like the other. I just knew one in my life
time."
"Ah! So what? We tell our children that those were things of the past. Just
legends. But in a couple of seasons I crossed the path of three spellcasters.
Spellcrafter, the tall one? Weakling and coward, he was.", Leif noticed that
he was also offending the elves, but he did not excused himself but rather
gave Blanchom a pitiful look.
"I know animals well, friends.", Benil cut the tension, "And I know that all those animals on the village could not have been disturbed with the simple presence of those two. And Bogas is unusually excited. I feel that something is wrong."
For a moment the silence settled among the companions. Talis was the first
to break it.
"For a while I thought I've heard that scream before. Now I think that I know.",
an hidden fear flourished on Talis eyes, "It seemed like the warcry of the
hunters from Minas Morgul that once caught me and my companions on the forests
of Ithilien."
"Hunters?", asked Blanchom.
"Intelligent Orcs, I think... Spies, rangers, and the banes of the common
Orc.", replied Talis.
"Not this one.", said Meneldor. His companions stared at the green elf but
he added nothing more.
Suddenly, they noticed a being running uphill. It seemed a distressed woman
that constantly looked behind her. She lifted her eyes and noticed the party,
surprised carved in her mouth. Everyone heard her hard breath, as if she had
been running for a while. Instinctively she stared around for possible escapes.
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