
by
elora » Tue Sep 22, 2015 8:47 pm
[OOC: Please note my co-writer backtracked in time for backstory reasons]
Misty Mountains – Eastern Flank, Rhovanion – IV 57 – Spring
Losing the trail was a bitter pill for to swallow but they did not abandon hope. Hanasian and Videdgavia pushed west over the mountains towards Eriador as the melting snow allowed, while Beragil and his Rhuadur brethren went east following a track. Somehow, whether by coincidence or design, the five men met again at the burned out cabin. After combing the ruin, they gathered under the withered oaks to camp for the night. Unsettled, Videgavia stood at the perimeter of the charred earth and stared at it. This set Hanasian to thinking. As the sun set, the Rhuadar rangers established a watch while Hanasian got a fire going. Anyone and everyone, including the one they hunted, would know they were there by the fire’s bright glow.
Videgavia returned, crouched and silent, as Hanasian coaxed the flames to life.
Hanasian leaned back as the hungry flames too and as the fire spluttered into steadier life he said to the watching Daleman, ”You know it as well as I. He got out, even if we don’t know how. I suspect he used the cabin fire as a diversion of sorts. He’d be He is heading north back to Dale as fast as he can.”[/I[
Vid tossed a stick into the hungry blaze, [I]”Why? The Dale Guardsman would be very much alerted.”
Hanasian nodded, ”Yes, but he need not see a single guardsman if he doesn’t press too far in. The Moricarni had supporters there, supply and a line of communication to the west. These have been eradicated, but he may still have a sleeper up there. I suspect he only led us down here to get us out of the way.”
Hanasian took his pipe out and scraped together a bowl from what was left in his empty pouch. A twig had it lit in no time.
Vid took a strip of jerky out and gnawed at it a while, thinking, ”You managed it. I suppose he has too. You’ve a suspicious mind Cap.”
Hanasian let a slow stream of smoke out, ”Cap? … you’re ‘Cap’ now. Or have you left your duties to others while you run after this phantom with me? You need to go back. Take up the captaincy again, then resign. Do it right Vid. It isn’t fair to the others.”
Vid nodded as he pitched another twig into the fire, ”I know. I was going to head west no matter. The rivers are still quite high, but I think they’re passable.”
”Take Beragil and the scout with you. They are good rangers and they are Company. They need to settle up with their campaign command too,” Hanasian said, then took his pipe out to dump the ash.
He sighed then and put the empty pipe back to his mouth, ”Massuil, Aragorn too, never held much with deserters.”
Videgavia ducked his head and winced. Neither, he thought, did the woman who actually commanded the campaign. But Hanasian had no idea about that and now was not the time to inform him. Vid looked out to where one of the Rhuadurians stood watch.
He asked, ”What of the quiet one? Is he staying with you?”
“I think so. He is very observant. Has secrets he does, and I get the feeling he is looking for something or someone himself. But that is not my business. He is wise in the ways of the North Country, and we are going north. His skill will be needed,” Hanasian answered.
Vid nodded, then asked, ”How will you split those two? They’re like brothers.”
Hanasian nodded but had nothing to offer on that. He leaned back against a tree trunk and rested his chin upon his chest. A moment’s sleep was worth much at such times. Videgavia stood and decided to relieve the scout that would travel with him and Beragil.
When the scout later rose to relieve the quiet, secretive ranger in the early morning, Hanasian was awake. He watched the ranger that he had decided would join him north pad back towards the oak trees. As he lowered himself to the ground, Hanasian broke his silence.
”I think I can count on two hands if not on one the words I’ve heard you say,” Hanasian observed.
The Rhuadurian shrugged and said after a moment, ”Don’t have nothing to say.”
Hanasian stood, preparing to relieve Beragil, ”That’s fair. You’ve already earnt your Company name anyway. Even Beragil refers to you as ‘Quiet’. But I like to know a little about those I travel with. You’re secrets are your own and I don’t want your biography, but I need to know your name. What is it?”
The Rhuadurian shrugged, ”Quiet.
Hanasian checked his blades while Quiet stared at the fire.
A moment later the Rhuadarian said, ”You said you didn’t want our names back in Bree.”
Hanasian leaned towards him, ”You’ve a hard life ahead of you ranger if you’ve not learned that things change. Get some rest. Come dawn we have many leagues to cross, you and I.”
Hanasian soon sent Beragil back to the camp fire to eat and rest. In position, Hanasian watched the shadows and the stars, his mind wheeling furiously. By the time the eastern sky shaded blue, his thoughts had narrowed to the path they would take and what it was they would look for. Yes, he knew. He knew where he went wrong in losing their quarry.
The morning chill was wintry even if the sun rose a little earlier each day. The frost of the morning was lighter and there was even a bit of a chance that the sun would be warm this day. The five men sat about a fire that had failed to draw any Moricarni out and ate their trail ration slightly warmed. It was agreed that Vidigavia would head west with Beragil and the Scout, while Quiet would accompany Hanasian north back toward Dale. They said their farewells and rode off their separate ways.
Hanasian moved quickly, which concerned Quiet. He thought that they might miss something at the speed Hanasian had set but Hanasian clearly wanted to reach the north in haste. Their first break didn’t come until they stopped for the night. There would be no fire that night. With only two, they could not afford a watch and the last attempt had not yielded any Moricarni. Hanasian immediately set to writing in his journal before the day’s light failed entirely and darkness took them. Aside from the scratching of his nib across the rough paper stock, there was silence until Quiet suddenly blurted out his name.
”Dauremir.”
Hanasian looked up in surprise, ”I know that name!”
Hanasian eyed him closely and then made a note in his journal. Dauremir shrugged, uncomfortable again, and picked up a branch that had recently fallen from the bare tree above. He eyed it before tossing it back to the ground in front of him.
Hanasian asked, ”You have Dunedain blood?”
“So I am told,” Dauremir replied, wishing he had said nothing.
Hanasian went on, ”And your parents named you Dauremir. That is interesting!”
Dauremir looked over at Hanasian and warily asked, ”Why does my name interest you so much?”
Hanasian nodded, ”Well, for one, King Earendur of Arnor had younger twin sons. One of that very name. He would become the first King of Rhuadur when Earendur died and Arnor was broken up. His twin brother Caontar became the first king of Cardolan. Knowledge of the Line of Rhuadur is even harder to find than those of Cardolan. It was said that the royal line died out when the Hillmen arose in rebellion and slaughtered the family. It led to most of the Dunedain either being killed or driven out where they fled to Arthedain.”
“Well I can assure you there is nothing royal about my family,” Dauremir said as he took a bit of jerky out to chew on, agitated now.
Hanasian decided he would let this be for now. He could look further into what is known of Rhuadar when he gets back…if he gets back. They were silent for a time as the night drew in around them, dark and cold.
Nothing more was said between the men as they pressed north. They tarried seldom and only at need. A moment’s rest by a pool gave Hanasian opportunity to study his appearance. His hair was greying on the left, but was near white and curled where it grew where he was burned. He used his knife and shaved his head close, leaving only stubble. There was nothing he could do about the scars. Would his wife, would his children even know him if he returned? Would they find him too terrible to behold? He returned to where Dauremir had remained with the horses and sat in quiet, dark thought. Even if they could bear the sight of him, he was not in the least assured that they could forgive him for what he had done to them.
The sky was fast turning from deep blue to darkness as the first of the bright stars began to show and Dauremir broke the long silence reluctantly, ”There has been no sign.”
“Yes, I know,” Hanasian replied, laid out his bedroll and stretched out upon it, ”Any sign we might have seen would have been a decoy. on the right track. Tomorrow you’ll go in and get supplies. We’ll be continuing north, where it is still winter.”
And that was that, even if Dauremir had no idea how Hanasian could be so sure that any signs they had sped past would be false. The following day, Hanasian hung back to avoid Dale while Dauemir went into town to collect supplies. It took them a number of days to acquire what they would need but once it was done, the two set out north towards Ered Mithrin (Grey Mountains) after a week or so.
They were only three days in before Hanasian said, ”We are being followed. They have some skill, but they are inexperienced. I suspect they are following you, for I know I have not been seen in town.”
Dauremir nodded, not looking, ”I thought this would happen. I don’t believe they’ll cause us any trouble.”
Hanasian scowled, ”That so? Having somebody on our trail? How could you know this unless you know who it is!”
Dauremir looked out to the western horizon a moment, choosing his words carefully, ”I was noticed when we were at Hunter’s Rest. I didn’t see them clearly and but I didn’t want to compromise is us while we were there. I didn’t see them when I was in town this time, but I had that feeling on the back of my neck that someone had an eye on me.”
“And you don’t think this will cause us any trouble,” Hanasian replied before he shook his head, ”Then no trouble it will be. We’ll move on now, no camp this night. It will draw us closer to our quarry and put distance between us and whoever follows us.”
Dauremir was puzzled, for he expected Hanasian to question him harder, but opted to take the inexplicable reprieve the older ranger offered. They rested shortly until it was dark so that their hunter would think they readied for yet another cold camp. Then, as soon as twilight had deepened into night proper, they mounted up and continued north. Other than leading out into a creek and riding upstream for nearly a league, they did not bother to hide their track.
They were soon back in the snow, wet and cold and slick. It was near impossible to cover tracks in the spring slush and it revealed a solitary track. Hanasian was sure they were on the heels of their shadowy quarry, but he could not determine why the canny man had made no effort to conceal his path at least to some degree. Could he really think that they might not uncover his deception back at the razed cabin?
As for their tail, it appeared they had lost them, even if for a time. Whoever it was may be inexperienced, but they have the gift, and were learning quickly. They had been spotted when Dauremir and Hanasian had reached a high escarpment in the Greys where they could see far south into the lowlands. Their river decoy had worked but their hunter had guessed they were going north. It was doubtful they had regained their trail but the hunter pushed on none-the-less. Hanasian noted to not underestimate them. He also knew that whoever this hunter was, they knew Dauremir better than the Rhuadarian was aware of or prepared to admit.
Spring was late to come to the north and they were daily pelted with rain, snow, sleet and wind. But the two kept on, and one night they found shelter in a cave that was partially covered in ice. The dripping water had made the inside wet, but they were out of the wind, and even the horses enjoyed the relative warmth.
For three days the rains fell hard. Water flowed everywhere and creek beds that were dry most of the year raged with rain and melting snow water. A cave in of ice had blocked the mouth of the cave they were sheltering in, but the two worked at digging and moving the slabs of ice away so they could get out. It wasn’t until the fifth day that the rained slowed to a mere drizzle. Hanasian went out to scout the area and returned with tidings back.
”We are either in luck or deep trouble. Somehow, our hunter has managed to negotiate the steep tracks in the rain and is now not far away. Our own tracks were obliterated by the slide and cave in. Our hunter is now on the track of our quarry.”
“Why is that lucky for us?” Dauremir asked, surprised.
Hanasian replied, ”Because they will set off any traps our foe may have set and when he makes a move against our hunter, we will have the upper hand on him.”
Dauremir stood, not hiding his concern, and Hanasian’s mild expression shifted into one that was as hard as stone.
Hanasian growled, ”Tell me who follows us or sit yourself back down!”
Dauremir backed away, realizing the sudden threat in Hanasian’s demeanour was no ploy. He leaned against the damp cave wall and kicked at the river of water at his feet.
Then the Rhuadarian sighed unhappily and said softly, ”I’m not sure. I think it is someone who knows me well but I cannot be certain.”
“Who do you know that would they follow you? You have to know!”
Dauremir shrugged, ”I can only guess. But you are right. We will see if they draw out our Shadow.”
Hanasian shook his head at Dauremir’s sudden change in demeanour and drew his sword, ”Well, if we’re going to see anything, we best get into position.”
They managed to get out over the wet ice and snow and they climbed up to a rocky ledge and looked out to watch their hunter ride closer. Hanasian watched close for movement in the rocks. Dauremir kept his eyes on the hunter. Just when thought the hunter would ride straight up toward them, the rider stopped. The hunter dismounted and studied the ground. Then, having noted something, the hunter turned and made off in a westward direction. An interesting turn this was! Dauremir at first didn’t say anything to Hanasian, for he was intently watching and the rocks.
Later, when Hanasian’s eyes moved to search out their hunter, Dauremir said, ”They are in the draw, they turned west for some reason.”
Hanasian squinted hard at the draw and then glanced briefly to Dauremir, ”That will go well for us. Look, the Shadow watches. He has revealed himself to us!”
It was an advantage that Hanasian would not lose this time. They watched as he slipped back into his hiding place in the rocks, suspicious of the rider and likely just as curious as they were on why they turned west. Hanasian and Dauremir readied themselves and made way to the north while the break in the clouds prevailed. They had to be very careful.
The days started to grow longer but the wind, rain, snow, and sleet was relentless. Hanasian and Dauremir managed to keep on the trail of their stealthy quarry without him guessing they were following him. The horse he was riding helped in marking the way. Still, they were only able to follow him at a distance. They could not guess why he was lingering so far north in the Grey Mountains, slowly working his way west.
The days turned into weeks, and the weeks reached out into the summer months. The long days and the morning and evening twilight had them moving longer and farther each day. With supply running lean, Hanasian and Dauremir had to ration their remaining dried goods. At times they managed to find small game to eat, but it was always raw, for no fires could be lit. They would then have to move quickly, for the crows and vultures would soon start to gather. It was the same with their Shadow. He was much more careless now, almost as if he were confident of his success. He would even light a fire, as if he did not care who might find him. He seemed to have forgotten the men that had hunted him over mountain and dale.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rhuadar – IV – 57, 17 Lothron
Father,
I have located the Free Company of Arnor and informed them of my position as campaign command. It is difficult to say how this has been received for the Company is in a state of uproar.
Tidings of the attack upon the Lady of Cardolan arrived before me and their new captain is the Lady’s foster brother – Lochared of Dunland. I am told the Company voted him in prior to taking the field.
He is overcome with grief for they believe the Lady to have perished and I have been unable to confirm whether or not she has survived. There are three, advanced in years now, with prior experience of the Moricarni. They hold that no one survives as a captive of this foe and there is no one to gainsay them.
Into the breach has come another, a former Ithilien Ranger by the name of Berlas. A steady hand, well regarded within the Company. The Gondorians amongst their number are particularly strong supporters. He has been able to moderate, to some degree, the Company’s blood lust.
Their hunger for vengeance is strong, Father. Unfortunately, Berlas served alongside the Lady for a time and he, too, is disinclined towards temperance.
I will do what I can to contain them, as I must, but I fear it will go ill for any the Company encounter here in Rhuadar. I have sent a small party of Easterling scouts ahead with instructions to warn those they find to flee.
I cannot help but wonder what has prompted our foes to attempt such a bold venture. The risks are many and for what? To seize the Lady of Cardolan? Surely they cannot think that would bring this campaign to an end.
If anything, it appears only to have spurred it on.
Yours,
Eldarion
Rhuadar Campaign Command
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Annuminas – IV – 57, 28 Nórui
Eldarion,
I have received disturbing reports concerning the Free Company and the use of wizard’s powder.
Rumours are ever the rats of war and they flourish within Western Arnor. Still, I must ask, is this true?
Yours,
A
Elessar Telcontar
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rhuadar – IV – 57, 18 Cerveth
Father,
Sadly yes. Battle was joined shortly before dawn on Erulaitalë. It raged through the day and into the night and I will not soon forget it. The screams and moans of the injured and dying will, I think, haunt me to the end of my days.
The killing field was strewn with bodies torn asunder, limbs…I cannot go on to describe it adequately.
Battle was triggered by the sudden arrival of Moricarni fleeing ahead of the rangers that had pursued them from Fornost. I did not discover the ampules of power before the first was ignited and by then it was too late. There is none of the wicked stuff left now, of that I am certain.
By the following dawn, none of the Moricarni flushed from Western Arnor lived. By comparison, our losses were light. Nineteen dead, many more injured. Of those, perhaps two score are serious enough to merit removal from Rhuadar. Arrangements have been made.
Of the Rangers who drove the Moricarni into our savage arms, those of Arnor have since returned and those of Cardolan have been given leave to seek their mistress.
Yours,
Eldarion
Rhuadar Campaign Command
~ ~ ~ ~
Imladris – IV – 57, 21 Ivanneth
Father,
I hope the Easterling messenger, Runner, found you with my hasty note. Now that I am arrived at Imladris I am able to provide a fuller report.
If Runner found you then you will know that the Lady of Cardolan was located, alive, in Rhuadar. Her captor is dead. She was returned to the Company by Videgavia of Dale, former Company captain. He was accompanied by two Rhuadarian Rangers, one of whom you might know – Beragil.
The Lady’s arrival was a moment of great relief and immense dismay. Her injuries were considerable. Videgavia reported that most were incurred during her escape. Bound hand and foot, her captor had halted atop a steep, rocky ridge far to the north. I believe her captor was attempting to elude the Company and those you have set to pursue the Moricarni attackers from Fornost. As Videgavia tells it, the traitor was distracted by either Videgavia’s presence or one of the Rhuadarian Rangers. The Lady seized the opportunity this presented and, after a brief tussle atop the ridge, hurled herself down it.
Beragil says that he killed the traitor, an arrow to the eye, when the man seemed likely to set off after her. Videgavia says he found her at the bottom, shaken and stunned but otherwise alert. He moved swiftly, keen to locate cover to take stock and put as much distance between them and whoever the traitor was seeking to meet with there.
By the time they regrouped and halted, the Lady had lost consciousness. It was only then that they realised how grave her condition was. Any rib that was not broken was cracked. It is a wonder her lungs were not punctured. Her right wrist was snapped and she was bruised black and blue from head to toes. There was an older injury to her foot, likely sustained during the initial attack at Fornost if I had to guess. At some point, a knife was taken to her, likely to quell her resistance. Most troubling of all, though, was a head injury sustained on her way down that wretched ridge.
The Company’s elation swiftly soured when Videgavia brought her in. The medics did what they could in camp and they tended to her well. The Company’s captain surrendered his position to Videgavia and retreated to his sister’s side. A vigil was mounted in which time she scarcely stirred. She woke once, briefly, confused and unable to recognise her own brother. She could not comprehend nor speak any language bar Dunlendic. I sent to Imladris then and there and some weeks later, my uncles answered my call.
They bore her swiftly back to Imladris, accompanied by her brother. Videgavia issued him a temporary leave of service. As for Videgavia’s own absence, he told me that he had gone in search of Beragil as approved by the Lady of Cardolan. I have been unable to confirm this with her directly, but it does correspond with the records she has kept. The Company has swiftly settled under his more experienced hand.
As of now, they scour Rhuadar for any Moricarni that might yet linger. Few have been found and I suspect the Moricarni may well be a spent force. Again, I wonder at what they hoped to gain.
Our cousin has steadily improved under my uncles’ care. They tell me they are optimistic. Bones knit and bruises fade, as we well know – but even the confusion that beset the Lady in Rhuadar has begun to recede.
Her household arrived a few days ago despite the concern that she may not recognise her children. It proved unfounded, thankfully, and I suspect her children will accomplish whatever my uncles cannot. They have taken measures to ensure the Lady and her household may remain in Imladris, beyond the Moricarni’s reach until this campaign is done.
I expect to remain here a little longer yet, another ten days and no more, before I return to Rhuadar.
Yours,
Eldarion Tel-Conntar
Rhuadar Campaign Command
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Northern Rhuadar – IV 57 – Late Summer
Berlas checked his men before sending them out on one last long-range patrol before they withdrew south for the winter quarters. He had many of his Tharbad men with him, and his recruits from their days in Tharbad now had plenty of field time under their belts. The young Rohirrim all now had nicknames bestowed upon them based on the skills and demeanour they had shown. It had been a week since they had any contact with the Moricarni, and it seemed they had given it their last in the battles they had fought a ways south.
Loch and most of the Easterlings had pushed their sweep east into the high country, seeking out any pockets that may have remained. They did the same to the north. But winter would be coming to the northern heights of the Misty Mountains, which some called the Angmar Mountains. They had pushed as far north and west as the low hills to the east of Mt Gram, and they were overstretched. Berlas knew that he had to make sure he was thorough, and so he planned this last foray.
He would send out six groups in sort of a star pattern from their main encampment on the upper Mitheithel where he would stay with the remaining men. They had instruction to gather information, and search and use any caches they may find, and secure that which they could not use or carry. Berlas doubted they would be back, but one never knew. If they came back next year, he would have a cache of his own. The groups were to avoid any fighting if possible, and to send word if strength was needed. He trusted his field sergeants, for they had done well since their deployment north. A couple were veterans, like Hamoor who had been with them since the Rhun campaign.
One group headed due east up the river into Hoardale, another would accompany them for a time before turning north and back west down a valley to the lowlands that lay between the mountain spurs. They would meet up with the third, which would go due north, then they would go west along the foothills until they met up with the fourth, fifth and sixth group coming around Mt Gram. It was the last three groups that would have the hardest terrain and the longest way to get to their waymeet with the others.
”You all are as well supplied as can be and know what to do. I’ll expect you back here when you get here. The journey back may get rough if winter comes as early as it did last year. May you find only caches and no battles.”
The men spent a few minutes on their farewells saying farewells and were soon formed up and ready to move out. It would be months before they would be back here again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Signs of the waning of the short summer of the far north appeared with the dry withering of the scrub grass in the rocks. But for now, it was if not outright hot, it was quite dry. Hanasian wanted to take a hard look at their back-trail, so he left Dauremir to keep an eye on any movement of the Shadow while he set out for a day of back tracking.
”I’ll return by tomorrow evening,” Hanasian said, ”I’m going to back sweep to that spring we passed. so we don’t fall into complacency. If you need to move to keep his track, do so. But it is appears he has likely settled for a day or two and I should be back by the time he moves. He is familiar with this far North Country. The rocks give little, so he likely has found water there and will not move for some time.”
Dauremir nodded agreement with the assessment, “I will move around northwest up that way so we will be shaded in the height of day. Make haste, and bring back some of that water. We were too swift in our haste when we went by it.”
Hanasian nodded as he handed the last full water bag to Dauremir and took the empty ones and the one partially full with him. He silently eased his horse away over the rise they had just come over and made his way back east.
The itch between Hanasian’s shoulder blades had been there since yesterday. He was convinced they were being followed again and determined to see if this was indeed true. He’d said nothing of this, however, to Dauremir. His young companion was an excellent ranger but there was something about his silence and his reticence that troubled Hanasian.
Hanasian made sure he didn’t leave a track and cleaned any sign he saw they had left on his way back. He had hoped to come to the small spring they had passed earlier by nightfall, but he stopped short. Dismounting, he climbed up to a rock ledge to see what he might find. Sure enough, their hunter was back on their trail again. They’d been pursued since Spring, on and off, and yet over the months that had passed their hunter appeared to have learned nothing.
He saw signs of carelessness everywhere. The hunter’s horse rested by the spring while the hunter splashed in the water. All the hunter’s gear, water, satchel, knives, sword and bow were still lashed to the horse. Hanasian eased back from the rocky edge of his vantage. He picked up a small rock in one hand and a larger one in the other. With a hard hook he lobbed the small rock far overhead. Just as the small rock hit some rocks up the far side, he pushed the larger rock over the ledge. The small rock started a small slide in the loose scree. The resultant din made the hunter leap up, look about wildly and reach for a blade. Just as the hunter realised the blade was still on the horse, the larger rock crashed down. The horse spooked, reared and bolted up the track only to slow after a few spans when it sensed and then saw Hanasian’s horse.
Hanasian calmed the mare swiftly and began to study the gear the mare had carried off in her flight. Westernesse blades, Rhovanion bow, Rohirric horse. Scant food, no water, and a small pouch of Gondorian coin.
Hanasian could hear the hunter struggling up the track, cursing in the common tongue, totally unaware that Hanasian was there. He sent the mare over by his horse, grateful that the pair seemed to get along well, then crouched behind a rock pillar where the track curved. The hunter stormed up the track then paused at the sight of two horses.
”Who did you find?” the hunter said, her voice raised in mild surprise and no small relief that she’d found her mare without too much difficulty.
Hanasian swiftly emerged behind her and wrapped a hand around the woman’s mouth, his blade pressed against her flank. A brief struggle caused the blade to cut through her leather jerkin and shirt but it drew no blood and she soon capitulated.
Hanasian whispered into her ear, ”You’re late. Dauremir was expecting you much earlier.”
The sudden gasp at the mention of Dauremir’s name confirmed what Hanasian suspected. The woman not only knew the Rhuadarian, the ranger knew in turn who she was. Hanasian’s trust in Dauremir had been reserved since they had left Dale, and even more so when he did not tell of who tailed them. Hanasian spun her around, keeping grip of her wrist as he sheathed his knife.
”So you do know, and dare I say, seek him?”
“I…. I don’t know of who you speak.”
She said with hesitation, nervously darting her tongue over her lips.
Hanasian smiled at her grimly, “I know better lass! He told me all about you, back when we first saw you followed us in Spring. I have to admit, though, that I thought you would be older.”
She tried to pull away from him but Hanasian held fast to her wrists. He wasn’t getting too much information from her other than her body language.
He told her, ”I will release you if you promise not to do anything. Yes?”
After another slight tug against his grip, she nodded grudgingly. Hanasian slowly relaxed his hands, she remained still, looking at him. Quiet though she was, her eyes betrayed her. He could see she was calculating distances and options, and he was reminded of another woman who would do exactly that had she stood in this young lady’s boots. Hanasian was ready for her next move yet she still made the distance to her horse quickly. Her hand did not fully grasp the knife she reached for in her saddle as Hanasian collided with her. The knife fell to the ground with them and he knew he had knocked the wind out of the girl. He got his knees under him and held her wrists to the ground as she tried to draw in new breath.
He said in a low voice, ”You lied to me girl and that was not wise. But Perhaps you didn’t understand what I said.”
He stood, dragging the gasping woman up with him, and using rope from her horse bound her wrists together.
”This wouldn’t be necessary if I could trust you,” he told her, ” What is your name?”
Still trying to breathe properly, she gasped, ”Didn’t Dauremir tell you?”
Hanasian took up the reins of both horses in one hand and led the woman by her wrists in the other back down the track.
”He was very protective of some information about you,” he told her, looking about to check no one was ahead or behind or above them, ”It’s getting dark, so we’ll go back down by that spring you found and camp there.”
She nodded in agreement as if she had a say in the matter, and again he was sharply reminded of another. Though, were his wife here she’d be considering how best to roll down a mountain rather than actually comply. Fortunately, the young woman he towed along behind him seemed to have lost her will to fight and they settled by the water without further incident.
With the woman secured to the gnarled tree with the two horses, Hanasian filled his water bags, and took the two from the woman’s horse and filled them as well. Finding a pouch of dried berries on her horse, he sampled a couple. He offered her some, but she turned her head away.
Hanasian finally said, ”Listen, I don’t think Dauremir would want us to get along like this. I prefer to take you to him unbound.”
He offered her a drink next and after considering it carefully, she did not recoil.
She then heaved a forlorn sigh, ”Alright. Yes, I know Dauremir.”
Hanasian shrugged, ”I already know that. I also know who you are to him. Like I said, he told me.”
“Then he has told you I haven’t seen him in a long time?”
Hanasian nodded. He was finally getting somewhere, which was good since he didn’t know how long he could fool her with his charade.
”Over a year at least,” Hanasian replied and added, ”Believe me, I know how that feels.”
Hanasian released her from her bonds and watched as she stretched her arms but made no unwise moves. She retrieved her bedroll from her horse. Hanasian sat on a rock carefully looking on as she rolled it out.
Laying back and watching the sky darken, she said, ”My name is Caila and we have been married two years.”
Hanasian realised then that there was quite a bit that Dauremir had failed to tell anyone, including Videgavia and his brethren. The young Ranger had an even younger wife for one. But, if this answered Hanasian questions about the Rhuadarian, it only triggered a much larger swathe of new questions.
Caila finally drifted off to sleep talking of how she wanted to see her husband again. Hanasian slept alert, sitting up. It was possible the young woman was deceiving him, but somehow he doubted it. The next morning came and Hanasian awoke with a start. He expected to find she had fled with everyting, including his horse. Certainly, it is what his wife would have done. But now, he found Calia was still there by the spring. He rose and went to offer her a hand full of dried berries and nuts to eat.
”It isn’t much. Food is scarce here.”
She stood and turned as she pushed her wet hair from her face. She scraped it up and tied it, then took the offered food.
”Thank you,” she said haltingly and ate, studying Hanasian as he walled away again.
Before she could ask him his name, he turned and said to her, ”No, thank you. These were yours to begin with. Come, we should go. By day’s end, we should meet up with Dauremir.”
Hanasian wasn’t sure what to make of Caila. She was perceptive enough, despite her initial hostility, to know that he was sincere. He could see that she believed he would lead her to Dauremir. He also knew she harboured no small amount of curiosity about him. It was best she did not know his name, though.
They rode at a fair pace, and by midday, they stopped at a saddle in the ridge. Hanasian looked about as he dismounted, taking a water bag and the pouch of the dried meat. He convinced the horses to eat the drying grass that grew in tufts amongst the rocks there. Caila dismounted and picked at more of the dried berries she had.
Hanasian broke off some of the dried meat and handed Caila the other piece, ”Here, take this.”
He placed the other half in his mouth and peered into the bag at the last remaining piece before he tied it off.
”You keep this as well,” he said as he set the pouch into her hand. He slung a water bag over his shoulder and looked north.
”This is where I must leave you. I will have to borrow your horse. You take your things, these water bags, and my horse, and go due west on this track. You keep my cloak as well. Dauremir may not want to be found by someone who isn’t me.”
“No, he won’t,” she agreed, ”Where do you go?”
Hanasian reply was a riddle.
“If my gut is right, I go to end this whole mess.”
Calia’s confusion showed but then a coy expression that belonged only to the young crept over her features, ”Should I say that I killed you?”
Hanasian shrugged, ”If that is your wish, lass. I doubt you two will be talking about me over much, given it’s been over a year since you have seen each other. You should get moving if you want to change that today. You stay safe.”
She smiled openly at him, taking no effort to conceal her feelings and Hanasian found himself wondering why Dauremir had stayed away from her so long. Or didn’t talk about her, or conduct himself like a husband separated from his wife by unwelcome circumstance. Then again, the same questions could be asked of him. Or so Hanasian supposed as he whispered to his horse and sent her up the track.
Caila turned back and said, ”I still don’t know your name!”
Hanasian mounted up on Caila’s horse and mare seemed anxious over this change of events. He turned the horse around a few times before he called out to Calia, ”You can ask Dauremir when you find him!”
She turned and rode forth over the rise. Swamped by his large cloak, she resembled a small wraith. He watched her until she dropped over the ridge and was out of sight, hoping he had not just sent her to her death. Dauremir was either going to be surprised and very happy to see her, or surprised and not so happy when Caila finds him. And find him she would, for Caila’s tracking abilities were good for all that they were still developing.
Hanasian turned Calia’s spirited mare to the north and made his way down the steep embankment. The rocks rattled behind him as he sprinted the horse out onto the still snowy flat. He wanted to make speed and he read the horse well. She was a fast one. Hanasian was guessing at a good place to cut back south. He had seen it on vague maps and so he sought the easiest way. The chill air was growing ever colder by the day here in Forodwaith and it would be too soon before winter’s grip held this far northland in its sway. Working back up and southwest, Hanasian did his best to avoid the worst of the rocky ridges and peaks that reached westward called the Mountains of Angmar.
If he stayed north and followed along them west, it would lead to Carn Dum where no man wished to go. Mt Gundabad was his mark, and hills of the Ettenmoors. With a diligent search and only passing it once, he found the one canyon that cut through these mountains with the least rise. The rocky outcrop shielded its opening from sight in the grey mists, but could be seen easier while moving back to the east. Though the days grew ever shorter, Hanasian was blessed with clear and relatively warm weather through the waning days of summer but for the one day he passed the canyon.
He rested the night at its mouth, knowing the season was quickly turning of autumn which could last a mere days here before the winter winds and snows started. When he awoke in the morning to fog, mist and greyness, he made haste south up through the canyon. He made good headway despite having to dismount and walk his horse up some rocky slopes. Finding a place to rest after the night fell was difficult, and Hanasian started moving south as soon as there was enough light to see. It was this morning that the first rain and wet snow blew in from the north. Winter had come to the Northern Waste.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The company scouts made good time to their designated points. The second and third both found only supply, and a lot of it. Most was sorted through and taken, with the rest hidden well away. It wouldn’t be found by any who had left these caches, and they noted that it had been some time since anyone had been there. They hoped the hoarders had gone south and were wiped out in the southern battles. They met up at the foot of the valley as they watched the declining weather form over the Mountains of Angmar to their north.
The first was led by a young Rohirrim sergeant that Berlas thought had some leadership potentia. This would be his first small unit command. They moved easily along the high reach of the Mitheithel to its headwaters, where the trickle of the waterfall fell from high over the cliff wall that was the Misty Mountains. They searched caves and crevices but found little. There was sign that the Moricarni had been there, but not in quite some time.
The fourth under Sergeant Sticks missed their primary route and they ended up going north up a deep ravine just to the east of the cliffs of Mt Gundabad. Their timing was good, for the second and third had made good time on the edge of the valley, and met the fourth when they emerged from the ravine. They found nothing. No sign of caches and no sign that anyone had been there in decades.
The fifth led by Sergeant Flint had the hardest route, having to traverse several ridges as they went west then north around the west side of Mt Gundabad. They collected several caches of food but nothing else. As with the other groups, they found nobody. Their only enemy was the route, and this set them well behind schedule. The deteriorating weather added to their hindrances. Surely by the time they got to the far point, the sixth would in position, for they had an easier way to go at the edge of the lowlands to the west.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hanasian was tired and hungry, and had no idea when he would ever eat again. Forodwaith gave very little for a man to eat in its short summer. There was a reason so many maps just called it the Northern Waste. He was unsure how things went with Dauremir and the young woman he had sent forth toward him. He hoped the best for them, but he really had no time to care. It was strange what came to mind in times like these. Hanasian had traversed the narrow passage through the Mountains of Angmar and crossed the valley into the hills of the northern Ettenmoors. The young horse was easily distracted by the green grass of the valley floor, and Hanasian was glad for the heavy low cloud and mist. Though he could not see the hills south, so to could he be seen. Still, he estimated he would still get west of where the Shadowy one would be, even if he had moved. It was a gamble to do, but one he hoped would pay off.
He had gained the edge of the Ettenmoor Hills, and soon discovered he was well west of where he thought he would be. He saw a flicker of light in the greyness, and the heavy scent of wood-smoke hung in the air. He dismounted the horse at a low break, leaving the horse to forage much sought after and needed grass. He waited for nightfall before moving forth toward the camp. The glow of the fire could be seen flickering against the rocks and the scrub as he crept up toward the blaze. Whoever it was, they had no night discipline. He could see nobody on watch. Climbing up to the edge of the flat where the fire was, he lifted his head and the fire came within sight. He could see nobody nearby the fire or anywhere within its light. It blazed bright, so it had been recently stoked, and there was a kettle hanging with water just beginning to boil. Hanasian stayed in the shadows and watched. He may have alerted them but there was no sign of anyone. Maybe when the kettle comes to full boil, someone might appear.
He didn’t have to wait long. The boiling pot drew out someone. They moved ever so cautiously, sword drawn, turning and looking slow. A second figure followed, watching behind and ready with a short sword. Whoever they were, it was clear that it was not their camp. They had paused on the far side of the fire and turned slow, looking hard. Hanasian remained frozen and blended in with the rocks he was behind.
It seemed like he came from the sky, dropping down from a rocky ledge above the flat. A tall figure dropped down and kicked the kettle of boiling water toward the two who were for the moment surprised. The man in front quickly leapt toward the attacker, but the one that was following did not move so fast as they were looking away. The water hit their hand and arm and they cried out as the sword dropped from their hand. A knife flew toward them and hit with a thudding sound and they fell back. The attacker paid them no further mind as he turned toward the other who had tried to impale him with their sword.
A ring of steel told of the move being deflected, and they fought hard. Hanasian watched close, and with their turns in the firelight, he recognized the man as the shadowy one whom he sought. It was time for him to join the fray while he had an ally in the fight. Hanasian stood and sprinted up and leaped onto the flat from the rocky ledge, sword drawn. The shadow knocked the other man back with a blow, and turned to access the new threat. Now faced with two sword-wielding opponents, he parried Hanasian’s first lunge. But it gave the other man time and he hit the shadow with his sword. His turning saved him from serious wounding, but wounded he was, and he knew he had to get himself out of this situation.
Hanasian was pushed back and nearly stumbled over the fire pit, but corrected his fall. He glimpsed at the fallen one that was before him. It was a woman! Caila! She looked very much dead with the blood seeping out onto her leather vest from where the knife had sunk in to her. Hanasian now knew the other man was Dauremir. If she was indeed his wife, he will be sorely grieved by her fall.
Hanasian got around and stabbed at the shadowy man, rending his cloak and splattering blood. But he spun so fast that Dauremir’s killing blow missed, instead he fell forth, taking a hit from the shadowy one in the neck at the edge of his leather collar. He staggered forward, but not before getting his sword tangled in the legs of the shadowy one, causing him to stumble. Dauremir fell face first down by the rock where his wife lay.
Hanasian wasted no time and turned on the shadowy one, keeping him on the defensive and managing to severely cut one of his arms. This time the shadowy one stumbled over the fire pit. Hanasian wasn’t expecting it and his lunge only caught the shadowy one slightly in the side. But the Shadowy one hit Hanasian in his right leg, causing him to fall to the side hitting his head on a rock. His vision blackened, and he knew he would be finished if he lost it now.
He struggled to his knees, and he saw Shadow rise in the firelight. As he stepped forward to finish him, he screamed and fell back. Hanasian faded and fell forth on his face. He was sure he saw someone behind the Shadow take him down, but could not be sure. He fell away into either death or dreams and visions…