My Sword Trembles
by Agape4Rivendell
Chapter 24: Foul Things
“Listen,” Elladan’s whisper shook Aragorn. Too
oft had he heard the tone that whisper carried. There was danger about.
He strained, trying to hear anything, but could not.
“Battle,” Elrohir replied in the same whispered tone. “A bit to the south of us.”
“Orcs?”
“Yes. Very near, too. Strider,” Elladan’s tongue tripped over the
unfamiliar name. “I will help you into that tree,” he pointed, “and
also Faramir. You will stay there until we return.”
Aragorn opened his mouth to protest and realized how futile it would
be. He was badly injured, could hardly stand on his own, and he had the
young Steward to protect. He nodded.
His brothers smiled. “You do well, Estel,” Elladan whispered. Elrohir nodded in agreement.
Faramir had begun to breathe heavily as soon as he heard the word,
Orcs. He ran to Aragorn’s side. The Ranger was pleased to note that,
though there was fear in the boy’s eyes, he did not cling to him.
“Do not be too afraid, Faramir. This is not good, but my brothers will take care of the threat and return to us.”
Elrohir helped Aragorn to the tree and Elladan pushed him up. The
Ranger held out his hand and Elrohir, after whispering words of
encouragement to the boy, lifted Faramir up. Gingerly, Aragorn climbed
up another three limbs. The branches were close to each other and
Faramir had no trouble following him. As Aragorn fitted himself into
the crook of a limb, he found Faramir huddling close by. He took the
boy and put him on his lap. “No matter what happens, or what you might
see,” he whispered. “you must stay still.”
“I know the danger, Strider,” the boy gulped. “I will bite my hand before I scream, I promise.”
Elrohir heard and looked up. “Do not harm yourself, Faramir. We will
return before any can assail you. I promise.” He smiled and was gone,
following close behind his brother.
Aragorn pulled Faramir a little closer.
~*~
“There are only a hundred or so,” Borondir moaned.
“Nay, it only looks like it,” Valanestel hissed through his teeth. “It
is dark and that makes their number look greater.” He slashed at the
hand of one who had almost cut off his own arm, and grunted in
satisfaction to see the severed part on the ground before him. “Also,”
he swung and killed another, “they have lots of armor on to make them
look bigger. These are puny compared,” another swing averted the loss
of his head, “puny compared to those we fight in the north of
Osgiliath.”
“Tell that to this one!” Borondir shouted an oath as he ducked. “Taste
this, you filth!” He at last slid under and severed the Orc’s left
tendon. The beast fell and Borondir slit its throat.
“I see you know how to fight Orcs,” Valanestel gritted through clenched
teeth. The particular Orc that he faced now seemed quite a bit larger
than the last one. “I was afraid,” he slashed and missed, “you were a
greenhorn.” Another slash, another duck, and finally his blade struck
home. The beast fell.
“Greenhorn!” Borondir sputtered as he felled another creature. He
turned, grinning at Valanestel, and grimaced. His eyes opened wide and
the Ranger saw the pain. The man fell quietly.
“No!” Valanestel screamed. “No!” and charged the beast that felled his friend.
Another and another came. The Ranger watched as his company and those
of Borondir’s fell, one after another, faster and more furiously. ‘So
tonight I die,’ he thought as he gripped his sword tighter. ‘I will
take some with me.’
The Orc that flung its spear fell in front of him. Valanestel looked
up, trying to see which of his men had saved his life. None were armed
with bows. And yet, an arrow had buried itself deep into the beast’s
chest.
He quickly spun around and looked again, but there was no one with a
bow. Sidestepping another Orc, he sliced his sword through the chest of
the beast and stepped over it to attack another. Just then, he heard
the soft whine of another arrow and watched as a large Orc, just behind
him, fell. Two more whines and two more of the beasts fell. He watched
in surprise as the remaining Orcs screamed in terror and ran.
Trying to make some sense of this, he looked about him. His men, what
were left of them, were helping their comrades stand. Others took
charge of the wounded. Valanestel summoned his own aide. “Did you see
where the arrows came from?”
“Nay,” Balan watched the forest as he spoke. “They seemed to come from everywhere.”
“Yes. I thought the same. Look up into the trees. Mayhap our rescuers
are there.” He called out, “Hoy! You who have come to our aid, make
yourselves known.” Only silence greeted his call.
“Set pickets, Balan, and then send out a small patrol. Make sure the
Orcs have continued to run from us.” He smiled, “I correct myself. Run
from our rescuers.”
He began to pick through the bodies that lay strewn about. Remembering
in horror the fall of Borondir, he ran to the spot he had last seen the
man. At last, he found him. Blood seemed to be everywhere. “Captain
Borondir, please speak to me.” No sound left the captain, but
Valanestel noted that his chest rose with ragged breaths.
“Healer!” he shouted.
“Dead, Captain,” Balan ran to his side. “Ours and Borondir’s. Both dead.”
The Ranger swore viciously. “He will not live long. I can bandage the
wound, but he has lost much blood. Do we have any of the healers’
packs?”
“I will look.”
Valanestel heard his aide shouting out orders to find the packs. Within
moments, the aide returned. “Here,” he held out a crushed package.
“This is all that was found. I fear the contents are useless.”
“We cannot leave them in this state,” Elladan whispered. “What good is
it to save them from Orcs and then leave them to die.” He shifted
slightly in the tree to better face his brother.
“I do not think showing ourselves is wise. You have heard the rumors of
fear and disregard towards Elves by these Men. We have already risked
our lives once today. I would prefer not to die on the end of a sword
of Gondor. Then there is Estel and the young Steward to think of. Our
reception could be hostile, ending with us bound or dead. And then what
of Estel and the boy. Nay. I think it foolish to show ourselves. Let us
return to Estel and take him and Faramir back to Osgiliath. We will do
what Estel thought, leave the boy near the gates and watch until he is
discovered.”
Elladan reached over and touched Elrohir. “We cannot leave them, muindor nîn.”
Elrohir nodded. “I will follow your lead.”
Elladan jumped down from the tree. He slung his bow upon his back and
held his hands before him. A heartbeat later, Elrohir joined him.
Shouts greeted them. Valanestel looked up in surprise and fear. “Hold!”
he shouted as his men gripped their swords and spears. “Hold. They have
put aside their weapons.” He strode forward. “Elves.” His heart jumped.
“Forgive me. We have not seen Elves in Gondor in an age. Welcome and, I
believe, thank you should be our response. You are the ones who saved
us?”
“I would hardly say we saved you, valiant warrior of Gondor,” Elladan
bowed slightly. “You were outmanned. You and your men have naught to be
ashamed of.”
Valanestel smiled. “Why do you show yourselves?”
“You seem to need more than an arrow or two. My brother and I are skilled in the art of healing. We offer our help.”
The man almost choked in surprise and relief. “We are desperately in
need. Our healers were killed during the battle. We have almost no
medicaments. This is our captain; he is gravely wounded.”
Elladan knelt next to the man. Elrohir moved off to another. “He is indeed gravely injured. Do you have a cart nearby?”
“Nay. We are searching for… we scour the woods for a missing man. It is easier to track without horse or cart.”
Elladan looked up. “A missing man?”
Valanestel wondered at his slip and then sighed. “A child. We have lost a child.”
“I have found a child,” Elladan stood. “We have hidden him, during the battle, in a place near here.”
The Ranger’s eyes filled with tears. “A boy! You have found a boy? Seven in men’s years?”
Elladan smiled. “Seven and precocious. Unharmed but frightened.”
He watched in wonder as the doughty Ranger before him crumpled to his
knees. “Valar be praised,” Valanestel whispered. Elladan nodded in
agreement.
A/N - muindor nîn – my brother - http://www.jrrvf.com/cgi-bin/hisweloke/sindarin.cgi?search=muindor
