Southeast of Vinhir, South Belfalas
Talis and Fletch kept following Mara from a distance to either side,
observing all signs of possible danger. Shortly, she stopped and signaled
to both. Blanchon, Meneldor and Benil had already gathered around her.
"The pool stands right behind that last line of trees, there.", she
whispered, "These woods circle the small clearing where it stands and touch
the edge of the hill. The narrow way to the cave and the beach can be found
beyond the pool.". The sounds of the waves were clear now and they played a
warm song on Meneldor's heart.
"Well, no sign of these drums now," said Talis in a whisper to those hidden
by the tree trunks about. He peered once more into the dusky dark of early
evening, sniffing once. "Hmm. I'd better check the area around for signs of
passersby. Benil, now is the time I think for you and Bogas to do us all a
great service by working the opposite side to me. I will pass in a semi
circle through the trees to our right coming into the open to meet you at
this pond. If Bogas can show you the left way, we can give a signal to
those awaiting here that the coast is clear. What say you old friend?". The
Ranger looked keenly into the slowly darkening hollows of the shepherds
weather-beaten face, awaiting an answer.
"Why certainly.", replied the kind shepherd, "We will do a good job for
you. Bogas and I will do it, eh old boy." He scratched Bogas under the ear
as he said that. "If the way is clear we can send Bogas back. If he comes
silently, then the way is clear. If he comes barking then we will need
help. Is that alright with you Talis?"
Meneldor interrupted thoughtfully, "wait my friend perhaps I too can be of
some assistance." He glanced to Mara, "I am afraid that I will need to
employ the skills we spoke of earlier. Do not be alarmed. I do so in order
to help the people of Vinhir." He turned back to Talis and continued while
Mara raised the right portion of her upper lip, wandering what the Seer had
in mind. "I have two suggestions. First, I have some skill in moving
beneath trees subtly. At the same time I can try to...", the seer thought
about a good word to explain what he meant but he was unsuccessful,
"...see... if there are any arcane powers or energy nearby. The pool still
alarms me, for we do not know what we will find there. Second, if you think
it better I can wait until you have both scouted abroad. I can then call
forth a mist in which we might all be able to move without being seen.
Though we will have to be careful not to loose our way in unfamiliar
terrain."
The ranger nodded, "Certainly friend Meneldor, I have seen your bizarre
abilities often enough in the past and I would welcome them most times. The
hidden aspect of yonder pool intrigues me also. Your suggestion is a good
one. Benil and I will scout the way as before but your... keen senses...
may call the alarm for us if we stumble upon trouble. Be on your guards."
Fletch aware that lives were at stake, took on a more serious attitude.
"Talis, my skills lie at your disposal, I'm not best disposed to frontal
conflict but my bow stands ready to aid in any way you see fit. Lead on
and I shall follow!". A little embarrassed at his small speech, Fletch
didn't look directly at anyone instead he seemed to study his feet as they
made patterns in the dust of the trail.
Meneldor placed a reassuring hand on Fletch's shoulder as he said, "Fletch
I would be grateful if you'd allow me to accompany you, behind Talis. I
will not have to be right at the fore in order to understand the pools
nature but my concentration will be required once I start in earnest. Come
let us see to our task."
Fletch smiled up at the elf. "Of course, I'll protect you while you do
your...", Fletch emphasized his point by waggling his fingers in a comical
mimicry of spellcasting. "Lets go check out that pool!"
With that, the outdoorsman stealed off between the trees in a wide arc
towards the coast.
***
Sergeant Oromir and Sergeant Wulfright waited for the captain of the
rangers to join the war counsel of Captain Alyster. The ranger came out of
the woods and only when he stood in front of them they saw who he was.
"Damn you, Elvorn, you walk like a ghost", complained the blond northman.
"It is my job to do it, Wulfright."
"Umpf!", Wulfright rubbed his hand on his mighty axe, Slitter, as if
showing the ranger how a true warrior did his job.
"I'm glad you did not took long to answer my call, Elvorn.", said Alyster.
"Still, I had to wait for my men to report before coming here, sir."
"Good, any news?"
"Nothing, sir. There are no one on these side of the woods. We are in no
immediate danger."
"That's really good news.", said Oromir, "It would be a disaster to be
ambushed on this terrain and with our troops lined in a long queue, unready
for battle..."
"I doubt that my rangers could not warn you, in that case.", replied
Elvorn.
"Even so, we would have but a few moments to prepare a defense and that
would prove to be a difficult maneuver here."
"You are right, Oromir, that's why we should take the lead.", said Alyster.
"And extra precaution..."
At Alyster signal, Oromir produced a map of the region and laid it down on a light campaign table. The four men bent over it and discussed their strategy and the deployment of their Lines. Wulfright was decided to advance in force, though not foolishly but rather with some astuce that surprised his companions-at-arms, even captain Alyster. As always he wanted to gain the initiative over any possible enemy but Elvorn argued that the woods would play some tricks on him and all his planning would become lost among the trees. Oromir also stood by a more defensive strategy while they had no information.
After a while, the captain turned his back to his officers and pointed to
the dark tower. "There is something strange about the tower. Even if they
were looking for a siege, they would have recognized our horns and banner.
I don't like that. Perhaps we could send some men scouting ahead".
"Agreed!", said Oromir.
"I want to go there personally, sir, with a couple of my men.", said
Wulfright.
"No offense intended, Wulfright, but my men are the best for that mission.
Sir?", interposed the ranger's captain.
"OK, two of the rangers will go to the tower and will signal to us if there
is no danger. If they don't come in half an hour, we'll attack the tower in
full force."
"Yes, sir.", replied Elvorn, avoiding Wulfright big eyes.
"And order the men to post guards all around till our scouts return,
Wulfright. Let them rest for awhile, but with weapons ready. We don't know
what to expect out there."
The blue eyes of the northman shone with his call to action.
"That's all.", said Alyster. His officers saluted him and went to their
troops, already starting to give their orders.
Elvorn was the last to leave. Before he had immersed in the trees, Alyster
called him again.
"Elvorn."
"Sir?"
"Don't risk your men's lives! If there is danger flee and regroup with us.
I trust your ability to not fall in an ambush, as we will too if you do.
Good Luck."
"Thank you, sir."
***
Once Talis started moving ahead Meneldor reached into his pockets and removed a small glass phial. He poured a little of a syrupy liquid into his palm and using the other hand traced out a subtle pattern. As he did so, he said something quietly in sindarin. When he finished he placed the palm to his forehead and closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened again he too moved quietly forward through the trees.
For a moment the trees transmuted to shadows themselves and the seer rubbed
his eyes. Then they became normal again but soon they took the ghostly
shadow form again. Meneldor was aroused with this unusual effect. Things
became thorny and foggy, no longer could he see his companions. The seer
fell to his knees and his bent head sent his hair onto the floor. As if
possessed by his own life, the hair started to remove the dust on the
floor, revealing a strange but already known path.
"Leave me alone.", said Meneldor.
"I am here to warn you."
"Leave me. I'm tired.", repeated Meneldor. He raised his head and saw his
own imaged still blocking the path ahead.
"The Water is running deep. Does it have strength to put out the Fire?
That's a good question. You are not Fire, Meneldor, but you can be
extinguished as well. I can't allow it, can I? That way I would know that
it was you that stole me your future. Beware where you stalk, Elf of
Ossiriand."
"Leave me, please..."
"Here, have my hand"
"Here, have my hand", said Fletch.
"What happened?", asked Meneldor.
"I don't know. You were chanting a nice song that almost made me dance then
you fell after a few steps. Are you all right, mister Meneldor? You don't
look to good. You are strange, I can't see you that well but I don't even
think that I'll will ask why. No sir."
Meneldor placed a hand on Fletch's shoulder to encourage his companion, but
his touch felt strange to the Hobbit. Fletch quickly turned away, filling
his mind with his present job and forgetting what he had seen.
***
The sun was already behind the tall trees that lined to the west, when the noble from Rohan and two Gondorian cavalrymen reached the roadblock. There was no one there, no sounds of wood cutting, no signs of the strange group. Leif wandered if the cart was still on the other side of the pile of trunks.
"This is not a joke!", said one of the cavalryman, a veteran by his
appearance.
"Is it an ambush? ", asked the other, a young Dunadan.
"We must take word to the sergeant, they will be here very shortly and the
hooves of forty horses will be easily detected, if someone is there.", said
the elder.
"Maybe this is all to delay the communications. They might have already
left the place...", replied the other.
"There's only one way to find out!", exclaimed Leif, action building up in
his good arm.
With a ring of steel from scabbard, Leif drew forth Frostbane. The sword felt good in his hand. With hardly a backward glance to his companions, the Rohirrim spurred Ranak on to gallop toward the roadblock, yelling at the top of his voice while swinging the sword round his head. "For Edoras and Glory! Come out you scum and fight the son of Hanir!"
He and the horse were almost a blur as they galloped toward the roadblock.
The two Gondorian soldiers hold their collective breath...
"He'll never make it!", said the young Dunadan.
"Bloody mad Rohirrim!", agreed his companion.
Ranak neared the roadblock and then with a mighty leap both he and his blonde headed warrior left the ground.
"Damn...", let out the older cavalryman when he saw the impossible jump. His own horse seemed nervous at the sight of the muscles and sweat of Ranak.
Leif felt very heavy and then extremely light, as Ranak flew over the trunks. He held himself with all his strengths when a powerful blow reached Ranak's legs telling that he had found the ground again.
Leif held sway of the willful horse and again he complained but obeyed. He
promptly looked around but saw nothing. There were no signs of dark
warriors nor the cart. Quickly the warrior ordered Ranak to make a complete
turn, sword and soul drawn in alertness. Leif was surprised but not as much
as the being that, half lied, was holding his back on the pile of trunks.
He was one of the dark warriors, but this one wore a dark brown rigid
leather armour over the dark rags. A longsword laid at his left side and to
the right stood a strange, twisted and long horn that seemed made of bone.
It looked like he had been watching the road but never expected such a bold
move. As Leif looked to him he reached his right hand toward the sword but
he found the warm touch of the horn instead. He looked confused and his
eyes rolled between the shinning warrior in front of him and his cold
sword. Suddenly he stood up, took a deep breath and carried the horn toward
his lips.
***
Talis made a wide circle following the edge of the trees. He found several
clues about the strange army that Mara had told about. They crushed and
smashed the grass, flowers and branches without care. But there was no sign
that they still stood on the surrounding. They should have gone deep inside
the forest or simply returned to the ship, thought the tall ranger. Talis
stopped for a quick glance around. Through the edge of the woods he saw
Fletch trying to find his whereabouts. Talis revealed himself and signaled
that he could advance to the pool. Then he tried to see Benil and his loyal
dog, but he couldn't. He resumed his path silently and eventually came out
of the woods a few meters from the cliff edge. A narrow and unused trail
followed the edge of the cliff, than run east-west here. This must be the
path that Tara talked about, he thought, she saw the dark army from some
point on it.
***
After a few moments in anticipation, Serpent reappeared from behind the curve of the mountain trail and signaled his captain to follow. Aratan lifted his eyes from the full scale battle down there and quickly followed Serpent. When he met him, the Cudin man was pointing silently to a small entrance to a cave. Aratan could see no longer the battlefield, and even its ominous sounds could only be faintly perceived. Here the silence and peace seemed to be the Kings over the mountain. But their reign was short as birds of prey flew above Aratan, headed for the valley bellow, claiming the mountain's crown.
Aratan followed closely his soldier, ducked and trying to walk silently. They both entered the cave and at first saw nothing but a huge darkness. As their eyes adapted to the gloom, Aratan saw that the cave was not much bigger than what the entrance suggested. It was five meters wide and three meters long, at most. At least I can stand without hitting with the head, thought Aratan. Now his eyes were completely adapted to the gloom and he saw Serpent at the other side of the natural hall. He shrugged to the man as saying that they had not took this way, but Serpent put his finger toward his lips and pointed up. Then Aratan saw what Serpent was referring to. There was a wood ladder that lead to a small tunnel, three meters above the cavern level. Aratan thought that he could see a faint reddish light flowing through the tunnel, but he saw no one and heard nothing.
Serpent signaled Aratan to cover him, and the Dunadan held his bow again. Serpent made the way up quickly and silently. Carefully, he looked into the tunnel. Then he unslung his own bow, covered the tunnel and signaled Aratan to join him. Aratan took longer than his strange companion. His heart almost sunk when he fumbled one step and produced a sound that came out as a thunderstorm on a clean day. But there were no answers. After spending a minute to reassure himself and regain his breath, Aratan signaled Serpent to follow the tunnel.
Though Serpent had no troubles to walk in it, he needed to bent in order to keep his head out of the irregular ceiling of the rocky tunnel. He was almost out of sight when he signaled Aratan to advance, once more. As the Navy captain entered the tunnel, his thoughts traveled to the flat expanses of the sea. How he loved it. These murky, confined spaces were not his realm and made him uneasy. The tunnel ended abruptly at a fork. The strange red light came from the left branch, but to the right there was a small cave like the first one. Serpent was unsure and signaled Aratan that he could not find any signs of the Haradrim passage. Aratan ordered Serpent to search the cavern to the right, while he stood motionless on the fork, his arrow covering all exits. His heart pounded hard on his jugular veins.
Suddenly Serpent came out running from the cave.
"Sir, you have to see this. Quickly!", he was grabbing and pulling his
captain by the arm, as Aratan used to do with his elder brothers in the
white streets of Dol Amroth, many years ago.
Aratan noticed the strange red light here, also. His eyes fell on the source, a narrow slit on the wall. Serpent was already peeking through it. Aratan came to his side and kneeled down. He looked also through it and his eyes widened.
The slit looked like a vent on a great cavern's ceiling. Down, there was a
strange platform, with a dark marfim table on it and some wood stakes to
the sides. On one stood a kind of lantern that threw the red light, but
there were other similar lanterns on the walls and other places. Some
strange statues were set with a chaotic disposition, almost as if laid
casually at their present places. A tall vase filled with a burning fire
was on the floor in front of the table. Aratan looked to Serpent and saw
that the man was swetting freely.
"I don't recognize it, Serpent. This is a strange and intriguing place, but
I don't see nothing special about it...", whispered Aratan.
"What!?", Serpent said aloud and immediately took a defensive position,
mentally kicking himself for such stupidity. "It is a Black Altar, don't
you see? Look. There's a dark flame engraved on it!"
"Never heard of it..."
"Damn these nobles!", mumbled Serpent with clasped teeth, then he raised
his voice again, "The Prince laid waste to two of those some years ago. One
in the Galibur region, in central Belfalas, the other in a basement in the
city of Linhir itself... I know, I was there."
"Altars... What are they for...?"
"For the Dark Priests, of course, those that teach the True Word. We'd
better get out before we get their attention. Now I hope that those two
Haradrim have not noticed us following them, or else we will have some
serious troubles. Anyway, I don't want to find out if they have or not. Let
us go, captain! Now!"
***
Benil had some troubles to follow his dog. The shepherd loved the rocky hills and green fields of his homeland and mistrusted forests, where the wolves had their hideouts. The folklore of his village was full of stories of dark dwellers of the forests, intelligent and cold wolves or even strange men that turned into ones. No, the woods were not made for him, he thought. More than once he had taken his sheep through the Burned Oak Woods, near his village, but that was a nice wood, he remembered. Trees were apart from each one, he could see the sky, and only a short grass and gorgeous flowers covered the soil. Here the trees were taller, closed and large bushes made his progression slow. Gloom thoughts burned deep inside Benil's gentle spirit and soon it turned into despair. He emerged from his dark thoughts with Bogas signals for urgency. He found his dog deeper inside the woods, out of his path. There was a particularly large oak near the dog. Reality stroke him as a nightmare would and the shepherd could not suppress a surprised shout. He raised a hand to his mouth and felt weak. There was a corpse hanging from a large branch, two meters above the ground. It swung slowly and sickly, making the wood intone a strange rhythm. It was carved of small shafts, maybe crossbow bolts and his heart had been ripped out. Benil could not stand it and ran away from the dreadful scenery. But soon he paused and held his back against a trunk. Slowly, he came down.
His dog found him seated near the trunk and licked his hand in a reassuring
signal. Benil returned the affection between them. "Good Bogas, why have we
left our peaceful corner, old boy?". Bogas seated in front of him, looking
somewhat tired of much running, his tongue out and conducting a fast warm
breath. Benil smiled to him and the dog closed the mouth and turned his
head slightly to the right with his hears raised. Benil smiled and gave him
a big hug. Bogas licked all his face. "Mister Talis would like us to tell
what we saw, don't you think? We must get there again... Better now than in
a couple of days...", the hard working shepherd concluded.
***
The sun glinted on Frostbane's fine edge when the warrior from Rohan lifted it back and brought it down hard on the horn, breaking it and making the creature's lung effort becoming lost.
With fiery, cat-like eyes, the strange warrior took but a moment to roll aside and grab his own heavy sword. Soon the sounds of clashing metal run down the road and spurred the two horsemen to action. They had some troubles to round the roadblock, but when they did it they saw that the Rohirrim gained vantage over his opponent. There they stood, an oddly smiling Rohirrim on top of a magnificent horse, his left arm immobilized from a recent wound but his right arm holding a fine blade against the creature's neck. The dark warrior stood laid down on the fallen tree trunks but with no fear showing. His weapon was thrown aside by a masterful maneuver and out of reach. But he was not caught yet. He took the slight distraction that the two newcomers brought to Leif and grabbed the Rohirrim blade with his left hand. He managed to pull it aside with the sacrifice of a deep wound that quickly filled the blade with a very dark red blood. From nowhere a flashing dagger appeared in his right hand and the confused Rohirrim had to roll to his right using Ranak as cover to avoid being stabbed. The dark warrior was fast, and knew his job. He took the chance to give a hand to the young warrior, lifting Leif's left foot and getting the air out of his lungs when he felt the ground on his backs. Stunned, the Rohirrim only saw a fuzzy image of a dreadful short blade hanging over him. But it never came down, as the two horsemen, free from the obstacle, raced forward shouting their warcries. The dagger flew from the warrior that still stood standing on a tree trunk, a meter over the ground. The blade found its mark on the younger horseman's neck, killing him before he had even reached the soil. His companion's eyes went wide, but soon the warrior experienced showed him the way. He brought down his lance and charged forward.
The dark warrior sensed the battle hardened spirit of the charging horsemen and decided that he should not wait for too long. Jumping down from the tree trunk he kicked Leif's right leg that still stood on the stirrups and grabbed Ranak's bridle. The horse took a couple of steps to the side as he heard his master mumbling something, but his wild spirit was heated with the smell of blood and now he hadn't his master to calm him down. The dark warrior tried to mount him, but Ranak refused and the warrior had to feint to avoid being crushed by his mighty hooves. The charging horsemen was almost on him, and he saw no other option than climb up the pile and jump it, gaining the necessary time to flee through the woods as the horseman had to make all the way around it, again. But as he fumbled up, he saw a large number of cavalrymen charging down the road. He panicked and looked quickly from the group of horsemen to the two warriors behind him. The horseman followed every move he made, ready to strike as long as he would jump to either side of the woods. The other warrior had grabbed his wits and weapon, and seemed ready to strike him again. He had started to climb the pile after him. He was cornered. He could not believe it. His trained spirit calmed himself. He closed his eyes and seated.
Leif had some troubles to climb up the pile with only one hand that still
held Frostbane, but soon he reached the top and saw the White Runners
reaching the roadblock. In front of him stood the dark warrior, seated with
his legs crossed and his head down, as if inviting for the final blow.
***
In less than twenty minutes, Alyster watched a lantern swinging vertically
from a window on the tower's window.
"It the signal, captain.", said Oromir at his side. "The rangers found
nothing and are signaling us to come."
"Strange, they had no time to search through the six levels of the tower,
had they?"
"No, sir, they are signaling from the second level. They might want us to
join before they search the rest."
"Those were not their orders, sergeant."
"Do you want me to send someone there, sir?"
***
Having moved forward a few feet, to the other side of a tall beech tree, Meneldor stopped for a moment. He began chanting again and as he did so his hands locked and unlocked in a series of different ways. After a minute or so of this, he raised his folded hands to his forehead and ran them lightly round each eye. His expression now seemed even more intense.
Suddenly an explosion of power threw his hair over his face and he turned
back only to see the powerful flow of light that emanated from Mara.
Meneldor almost fell to his knees again, but he managed to hold this time.
"I was wrong. She stays too powerful.", he said, a hand protecting his
eyes.
"Meneldor!", cried a chill voice in Sindarim over the wind of light.
"What? Who calls me?"
"It's Blanchon! You are reflecting too much power. Stop or you will drain
both of us..."
"It's not me... Take Mara away, take her! Now!", he shouted without caring
if someone could hear. Then he turned and raced towards the pool. He could
not stand the light but he had something to check.
Near the pool there was a boulder and Meneldor used it to cover himself from the light source, that now emanated with less intensity from the woods. Meneldor opened his eyes and held his face a few inches above the surface. There was still too much light. It was almost if it were a full midsummer bright day. But even then he could see some sparks of light jumping inside the pool, swimming, dancing and bouncing, but not daring to leave it. Meneldor hands made a quick movement and all the light was gone.
Fletch was standing on the boulder, behind him, nervously expecting to find
a mighty warrior coming out of the beach.
"There are only vestiges, but not the source. Not anymore, Fletch.",
Meneldor voiced called the Hobbit's attention. The elf looked tired and
breathed deeply.
"Great... I guess... Sure it is gone.", said the small warrior showing
Meneldor a strange smile and a helping hand. "I guess it's too late to walk
on these woods, right? There are no one sane that would do it, right?", he
said.
"What a weird guy, really...", mumbled Fletch to himself as he watched the
elf regaining his breath. "First he almost disappears under my own eyes,
then he falls, mutters strange words and his hair flies with some...
gurp... invisible wind... then he shouts words to Blanchon that no one
could possible hear... Damn, I think he is too old for adventuring. He is
getting a little crazy in his head, I'd say."
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