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Tangled Web  by daw the minstrel

I borrow characters and settings from Tolkien, but they are his, not mine. I gain only the enriched imaginative life that I assume he intended me to gain.

Many thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this chapter.

*******

7.  Battles Near and Far

Legolas crouched to examine the marks on the ground beneath the web strewn tree.  The bare foot prints told him that the Dwarf child had lain on the crushed grass here, but so far, he had found no signs of the adult Dwarves.  He bit his lip.  Could Hobbit have become separated from his parents in all the confusion last night? A lone child in these woods would be prey for more ugly things than Legolas liked to think about. He had a sudden childish memory of Thranduil scolding him sharply for going into the woods without an adult, and from there, his mind slid unwillingly to thoughts of the scene in the Great Hall that morning. He was still smarting from the scorn that had laced his father’s scathingly expressed opinion of the Home Guard’s performance and hence his own.  He grimaced and pushed the thought away.  The best way to insure his father’s respect was to carry out the task he had been given and get rid of any spiders as quickly as possible.

He looked at the child’s footprints again.  If Hobbit was alone, then the Elves were at least partly responsible because it was Thranduil’s spell that had blinded him and his parents. He stood and walked to where Annael and Beliond were examining the dead spider and the ground around it.  “It was stabbed between the eyes,” Beliond observed, “and slashed along the side too.”  He pointed. “The blade was sharp.”

“The only footprints I see are those of the child,” Annael worried. “Could he have killed the spider on his own?” The three of them looked at one another doubtfully.

Legolas drew a deep breath and made a decision. “If he is alone, we need to find him even before we hunt for spiders.”

“Assuming that we do not find the child and the spiders at the same time,” said Beliond grimly.

Annael bent to look at the ground again, and the others left him to it. Legolas trusted Annael’s tracking abilities even more than he trusted his own.  “This way,” said Annael finally, and they set off with him in the lead, following what signs of the child they could find.

It was evident immediately that Hobbit was not only alone but lost.  His tracks drifted aimlessly from side to side, although they at least did not go in circles but tended northeast.  The child was surprisingly light-footed for a Dwarf, and even Annael had to pause occasionally before he could spot the signs of Hobbit’s passage.

Suddenly Legolas became aware of a change in the light ahead.  “Look,” he urged softly, and both Annael and Beliond raised their heads sharply to look where he was pointing.

Legolas could hear Annael’s breath catching.  All three of them knew what had dimmed the light in the dusky spot ahead. They had been carrying their bows in their hands, and now, they all reached over their shoulders to seize arrows from their quivers and fit them to their bowstrings.  They crept forward silently, and then, in unspoken accord, they halted and stared in dismayed surprise at what lay in front of them.

In a clearing near a streambed that was dry in the heat and drought of late August, spider webs were draped from almost every tree limb, crisscrossing and tangling until they lay so thickly that they shut out the light.  The colony had to be huge to create so many webs, Legolas thought, appalled.  He exchanged glances with Beliond and saw his own shock mirrored in his keeper’s eyes.  The two of them and Amdir had been through this spot only the day before yesterday, and it had been clear of spiders then. The creatures had to have moved in with lightning speed.  They must be multiplying even more quickly than we realized, Legolas thought with a stab of what felt very much like fear.

He gestured toward the trees, and the three of them leapt into the branches, climbing until they were above the webs and then moving forward to spread out and surround the colony.  Legolas saw almost immediately that the colony was all but abandoned.  The nests seemed empty, and only half a dozen or so spiders were crawling along the strands of webbing, repairing what appeared to be recent tears.  Far below, Legolas saw perhaps as many more on the ground, prodding at several dead spiders that lay on their back with their legs curled up.  As Legolas watched, one of them darted forward and sank its fangs into a black, hairy corpse.  He shuddered.

When he looked to make sure that Beliond and Annael were in position, he found their eyes were on him, and when he raised his bow and took aim, so did they.  He sighted along his shaft and then opened his fingers and let the arrow fly, hearing two other bowstring twang at almost the same moment.   Three of the spiders on the webs broke free of the strands and went crashing to the ground.  Before they landed, Legolas had drawn and shot again, and then again.  Within two minutes, every spider in the area lay dead or dying.  He scanned the trees one last time to make sure that he and his warriors had wiped out all of the creatures and then climbed rapidly to the ground.

“Where are all the others?” asked Beliond as soon as he hit the ground next to Legolas. “These few did not make all of those webs by themselves.”

“I do not know,” Legolas answered, “but we had better get some help in finding them before they find us because we can be sure that they will not abandon these nests and webs.”  He whistled a loud, two-note signal that would draw any patrol within earshot to him.  Then he turned his attention to the ground again.  “Let us see if we can find out what became of the child,” he said soberly.

Annael had already been searching. “Look here,” he called, and Legolas and Beliond hurried to join him.  Annael was pointing to a confused pattern of large Dwarf tracks.  “There were twelve adults,” Annael said. “And look at this.” He indicated a print that had been made by a smaller, bare foot that must have been Hobbit’s, although not for the first time Legolas thought that it was larger than he would have expected from so small a child. Legolas sagged with relief. Hobbit had found his family and had apparently been well enough to walk away with them.

A robin’s song announced the arrival of Sinnarn, Nithron, and Elorfin, who had been the one to spot signs of spiders on the previous evening.  They dropped from the trees and then lowered their bows at the sight of the dead spiders.  Legolas approached them immediately.

“What do you think, Elorfin?” he asked.  “Could this be the colony you saw signs of last night?”

The other Elf made a face.  “The spiders I glimpsed were on the move through the treetops.  I suppose this could have been where they came from.  The direction would be right.”

“Legolas,” called Annael, “come and take a look at this.” They started toward Annael, but he put his hand up. “Come around there,” he ordered, and they circled so as to avoid some pattern of prints he wanted them to see.  He pointed to the ground.  “It looks to me as if the Dwarves went off in this direction,” he said. “They were running when they could, but some of them seem to be stumbling.  And spiders went after them.”  He pointed to the trees, where they all could see traces of webbing leading in the same direction the Dwarven footprints did.

“We must go to their aid,” said Legolas in alarm.  “The Dwarves were unarmed except for their knives. They will be no match for this colony, especially if some of them are injured.”  He would not leave anyone who was not actively an enemy to the mercy of the giant spiders.

“Wait,” warned Annael.  He pointed in the other direction, and Legolas’s heart sank, for there in the dirt was unmistakable evidence that the child had gone the opposite way from the rest of the Dwarves.  He looked up quickly to see the tell-tale strands of webbing following the child.

“How could they have left him on his own?” he cried.  “Did they not care what happened to him?”  The thought bewildered him.  He had once seen Dwarven parents with a child, and those Dwarves had seemed loving and protective.

“Perhaps the adults were trying to draw the spiders away,” Sinnarn offered.

Legolas blew out his breath in frustration. “We must split up,” he decided.  “You three go that way, and we will search for the child.”  Sinnarn, Nithron, and Elorfin immediately moved into the trees and set off to follow the trail of webbing.  “Come,” Legolas said, and he, Annael, and Beliond also took to the trees in the other direction.  They would follow the spiders, because if they could get rid of them, then Hobbit would be safer no matter where he was.  And almost certainly, they would find the child and the spiders in the same place, because the creatures had plainly been pursuing him.

They moved quickly, keeping watch for any spiders that might have lingered behind the others and be waiting to snare them, but the creatures were apparently intent on their pursuit of Hobbit.  At the edge of his hearing, Legolas could just detect the clacking noises they made when they were upset, and then, to his surprise, he thought he heard a snatch of song.  He quickened his pace.  It was certainly not the spiders who were singing, and if it was the child, he was probably drawing them straight to him.

The faint noise ahead began to veer off to the left, and with one accord, the Elves moved that way too, hoping to intercept their quarry.  Unexpectedly the sound changed, and it took Legolas only a second to realize that now the spiders were coming back toward them.  “Climb!” he called to his companions, but Annael and Beliond were already scrambling higher into the trees where they could wait in ambush for the approaching spiders.

Suddenly, beneath them, a black flood of spiders came flowing through the trees, with Sinnarn, Nithron, and Elorfin in pursuit. Legolas immediately put an arrow through a spider’s head, causing others to veer in his direction.  He gritted his teeth and stood his ground. He had fought spiders often enough over the years to be sure that he and his companions could destroy this group, given time, but he had never been able to suppress the loathing they inspired in him.

One of the larger spiders swung toward him on a thread it had cast into a branch over his head.  “These stingers we can see,” it hissed, just before he put an arrow in its eye and sent it to the ground.

Legolas shot arrow after arrow, and when his quiver was empty, he scrambled to the ground to glean more and shoot again from there.  A spider fell from high overhead to land next to him, splattering him with sticky black blood.  He flinched away and then grabbed the arrow that was protruding from its back and shot another spider.  He looked around for more arrows to salvage, but by the time he had fitted one to his bow, he could not find a target.  The ground was thick with the reeking bodies of spiders.  His warriors would have to gather them and burn them to avoid attracting more who were looking for a feast. And then they would have to do the same thing where they had found the colony.  Legolas wiped the sweat from his forehead on the back of his hand and then grimaced when he realized how filthy his hand was. He wiped it on his tunic. Sinnarn dropped to the ground next to him.

“Did you find the Dwarves?” Legolas asked.

Grinning, Sinnarn nodded.  “They took refuge in the clearing where the feast was held last night.”

Legolas almost laughed. Given the enchantment his father had set, they could not have chosen a safer spot. “Was the child there too?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Thank the Valar, Legolas thought.  “And the leader?”

Sinnarn shook his head. “No, Amdir must have retrieved him already.” That was good, Legolas thought.  Although his father had not said so, it had been clear to Legolas that Thranduil wanted the leader separated from the other Dwarves.

He looked around and sighed.  “We need to clean up here and then we need to search this whole area. Some strays undoubtedly eluded us.”  He looked at his nephew. “And then, I have a feeling we are going to be on our way back to the feast site to fetch the other Dwarves.  I cannot believe that Adar will leave them loose.”

Sinnarn grinned again. “I hope so,” he said cheerfully. “I would like to talk to them. And they are safe enough for now. Even if they leave the clearing, they have nowhere to go.”

Legolas could only agree.

***

Orcs!  Orcs were coming! Probably drawn by the strange events happening all around, at least a dozen Orcs were hastening toward them, and Eilian’s experience told him that more would undoubtedly follow before long.

From the corners of both eyes, he could see all of his warriors, except those Tynd was holding as rear guard, scrambling frantically to position themselves to meet the oncoming Orcs.  Off to his right, he saw Galelas start to climb into a tree and saw Gelmir jerk him back just in time to avoid another falling branch.  They would have to fight from the ground, Eilian realized grimly, and that meant they would have to forsake their bows and use swords far more quickly than they usually did.  He took what shelter he could behind the trunk of a trembling tree, nocked an arrow, came to his full draw, and waited.

The instant a dark shape emerged from the darker trees, he loosed his arrow, nocked another, and shot again before the Orcs who were running toward them realized what was happening.  With guttural shouts of alarm, the Orcs dove for shelter, fitting arrows to their own bowstrings as they ducked from view.  A black-fletched arrow whistled past Eilian’s ear.

“Push them back!” he shouted.  At all costs, the Orcs had to be kept out of arrow range of the White Council.  He loosed an arrow and then darted from behind one tree and moved forward to another, ducking away from another arrow just in time.  He heard an Elf cry out, and from the corner of his eye, he saw one of his warriors fall with an arrow in his side, but he did not see who it was.  Long experience in battle told him that he could not think about fallen comrades now, not if he wanted to keep his other warriors alive.  Not if he wanted to survive himself.

The tree behind which Eilian was sheltering groaned, startling him, and suddenly, he realized that an unidentifiable noise had begun to rumble in the distance. He tried to ignore it and keep his attention on the battle, but he could see that the Orcs too were surprised and disturbed by the sound that built swiftly to a deafening roar, drowning out the twang of bows and the battle cries of both Orcs and Elves.  A hot wind tore through the battlefield, and Eilian’s hair whipped around his face, stinging his cheeks and eyes.  Desperately, he reached to push it away so that he could see the enemy.

At that moment, he became aware of an almost imperceptible change in the light. To Eilian, it felt not as if light were penetrating the gloom, but rather as if darkness were being torn away. All around him, the trees swayed, and then, just where the Elves and Orcs were met, the trees bent apart and a flood of paler daylight washed over them.  After so long in the dim light around Dol Guldur, even Eilian’s eyes were momentarily dazzled, weak though the light still was, and the Orcs roared with pain.  A large Orc suddenly stood, turned, and began to run.  Within seconds, all of them were fleeing or trying to, for Elven arrows brought down at least four more before they had moved beyond range.

Eilian leapt from his hiding place, running forward and stopping only to loose more arrows. All around him, his warriors surged toward the retreating Orcs, and only at the last possible second and with an almost physical pain, did Eilian manage to control his battle rage and sound the signal to call them back.  They stopped themselves with visible effort. He stood for a second, panting in bewildered triumph. What had just happened here?

Then, suddenly, he recalled seeing an Elf fall.  He turned and ran back to where he could see Galelas crouched over someone stretched full length on the ground.  With his heart in his throat, he realized that it was Gelmir.  He gave an inarticulate cry and dropped to his knees.

Galelas looked at him wide-eyed.  “He is still alive,” he said in a shaking voice, “but only just.”

Blood had seeped from around the Orc arrow, staining Gelmir’s tunic deep red.  His eyelids were fluttering and his breathing was shallow.  Before Eilian had time to do anything, he heard the signal to retreat in a voice that he recognized as Ithilden’s.  He and Gelmir looked briefly into one another’s eyes.  Then, grimly, Eilian seized the shaft of the arrow and broke it off so that it would jostle less.  Gelmir let out a stifled cry, and Eilian gathered him in and stood up with his friend in his arms.

“Go!” he called.  Warriors streamed around him running back to where Ithilden was still calling them. Their bows were at the ready, but no enemy was in sight.  They caught up to the White Council to find Ithilden and Glorfindel shepherding them away, with Tynd and the rest of the rear guard flying ahead to find safe passage.  All around them, tree branches were crashing to the ground and, in the distance, Eilian could hear the confused, frightened cries of Orcs.

In his arms, Gelmir groaned, and Eilian knew the movement must be hurting him.  “Hang on, Gelmir,” Eilian murmured. “I do not want to have to explain to your naneth how I came to let you die here. Explaining that wound will be bad enough.”  Gelmir gave him a weak smile and then slid into merciful unconsciousness.

They stopped their flight only when they were well beyond the area that the Orcs had been patrolling.  Ithilden called a halt in a grove of pine tress that shook but seemed to be dropping no more limbs.  Eilian laid Gelmir down carefully, and both Tynd and Galelas were at his side instantly.  Tynd cut away the remnants of Gelmir’s tunic and began to probe around the base of the broken arrow shaft.  Suddenly Eilian felt another presence and turned to see Elrond frowning down at Gelmir.  Without speaking, he crouched next to Tynd and bent close to the wound.  Seeing who it was, Tynd backed hastily away.

Elrond looked at Eilian, and from the look on his face, Eilian guessed that his own face was strained.  “These two and I will take care of him, Captain,” he said gently.  “But I can see already that the wound is not deep and the arrow has not struck anything vital. If it is not poisoned, he will almost certainly be all right.  If you have things to do, you can safely leave him to us.”

Eilian was on the verge of protesting that he would stay with his friend when he caught sight of Ithilden standing with Mithrandir, both of them looking toward Dol Guldur, where the sky was noticeably lightening.  He needed to know what had happened, he decided.  And if he could not trust Gelmir to Elrond’s care, then he was probably more affected by the Shadow than he had realized.  “Very well,” he said, rising.  He was not surprised to hear that his voice shook. “I will be back as soon as I can.” Elrond nodded and reached for the emergency healing supplies that Tynd had laid out.

Eilian went to stand next to his brother. “What happened?” he demanded, alarmed by the uneasy look on Mithrandir’s face.  “Did you not succeed?”

Mithrandir did not take his eyes from the tower. “Oh, we succeeded,” he said.  “Sauron is gone. We did not destroy him, and I do not know where he has gone, but he is no longer here.”

Eilian’s breath was driven out of him, and he suddenly felt as if his legs might give way.  For the first time, he understood what was meant by the expression “limp with relief.”

“But that is wonderful!” he cried and saw again that the Wizard’s brows were drawn together. He looked at Ithilden, who shrugged.  He was apparently just as puzzled as Eilian was.

“Is something the matter, Mithrandir?” Ithilden asked.  “You look concerned.”

Mithrandir sighed.  “I do not know,” he said slowly.  “At first, Sauron resisted us, just as we had anticipated. But then, suddenly, he seemed to stop. It was almost as if his attention were elsewhere rather than on us.  And then he was simply gone.”

He turned to them. “I suppose you will say it would be wise to leave here.”

Ithilden nodded, all crisp business now.  “I want you and the other Council members as far away from here as possible before nightfall and out of the forest completely as soon as possible.  Sauron may be gone, but his Orcs are not.”  Mithrandir nodded and went off to speak to Curunír, who looked exultant.

“There may still be Orcs, but they do not sound as if they are spoiling for a fight,” Eilian observed, “at least not while it is so light.  And Sauron’s departure has probably left them without a central command. They will soon be quarreling among themselves.”

Ithilden nodded.  “True, but I want to get the Council as far away from here as I can today.  Your warriors will guard their backs.”

“Of course,” said Eilian.  “We can move as soon as Elrond is done digging an arrow out of Gelmir.”

Ithilden looked concerned. “How is he?  Was anyone else wounded?”

“So far as I know, he is the only one, and Elrond says he will probably survive,” Eilian answered, consciously struggling to keep his voice steady.  Ithilden patted his shoulder lightly.  Eilian and Gelmir had been friends from childhood, and Ithilden knew it.

“We will move as soon as Gelmir is ready,” Ithilden said.  They both looked again toward Dol Guldur.  “We did it,” Ithilden marveled.  “Sauron is gone.  I am not sure I believe it yet.”

“I wonder if Adar can tell?” Eilian said.  They looked at one another speculatively.  The extent of their father’s magic was not entirely clear to them.  “At any rate,” Eilian went on a little wistfully, “you will soon be home to tell him and everyone else too.”

Ithilden smiled. “Perhaps we will soon find that we need fewer warriors here and you will be home too.”

Eilian’s heart leapt at the thought.  He loved the excitement of fighting a constant stream of enemies, but if the need for battle were to lessen, there was excitement of a different sort waiting for him in his bed at home.

 





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