Five days after Faramir had ordered that the beacons be lit, two columns of soldiers appeared, marching across the Pelennor. Éomer King of Rohan rode at the head of one column. At his side, on a sturdy pony, was Gimli, Lord of Aglarond, leading a detachment of dwarves bearing wicked-looking axes. As the soldiers of the two armies made camp just outside the city walls, Faramir welcomed the two commanders into the Citadel.

"We came as soon as we saw the beacon fire," Éomer said. He saw that Faramir's eyes were red and hollow, as though he had been weeping. "What has happened? I see no threatening army."

"The threat is not here," Faramir said. "It is hidden from us, though we cannot doubt that it is real."

Éomer exchanged a glance with Gimli, but Gimli had no explanation for Faramir's strange behavior. At that moment, Arwen stepped up to Faramir's side and gave Éomer and Gimli a gracious nod of acknowledgement.

"Welcome, my Lords," she said. "I thank you for your swift response. Gondor may indeed rely on her friends when she is in distress, and today our distress is dire. Five nights past, the Steward and I received word of an assault upon Emyn Arnen in the land of Ithilien." Éomer sucked in a sharp breath, and Gimli bristled. Arwen laced her fingers together tightly. "During the assault, Lady Éowyn was abducted," Arwen said softly, "along with both of her children, several of her ladies, and their children."

"Abducted?" All the color drained from Éomer's face. He looked at Faramir, who seemed to be on the edge of despair. For a moment, he seemed to waver between fury at those who had taken his sister and compassion for her husband, prevented by duty from rushing to her rescue. Then he pulled Faramir into a swift, strong embrace, releasing him almost immediately.

"This is grievous news indeed," Gimli said. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Therein lies the heart of our problem," Faramir said, standing a little straighter. "They appear to have been attacked from the north by soldiers wearing armor of Harad."

"This is not the first time in recent days that I have heard of mysterious soldiers wearing armor of Harad," Éomer said. "Some time ago, I received a letter from Legolas of Ithilien."

"I also had a copy," Faramir said, "As did the King. Éowyn told me that she thought the description in that letter matched the Haradrim she saw in the War."

"It seems to me," Arwen put in, "that there is something similar about both of these attacks. In Rohan, horses are stolen in swift raids. Later, in Ithilien, women and children are taken in a similar raid. Something valuable has been taken, quickly and violently. It is not unlikely that the same power is behind both attacks."

"That still does not answer the question of why Haradrim would attack from the north," Gimli said, "or even if they are Haradrim at all. No one has laid eyes upon them save at a distance or in the heat of battle. All we may say for certain is that they wear the armor worn by Haradrim eleven years ago. I wonder if they are Haradrim at all."

"Who else would they be?" Faramir asked. "The Easterlings are not so friendly with the Haradrim as to ally with them in attacking Gondor and Rohan."

"But they would not be above donning Haradric armor to fool us into believing that it was Harad which attacked, and not Rhûn," Éomer pointed out.

Arwen frowned. "Or perhaps they are indeed Haradrim who seek to attack while the King is away from the city. We cannot be certain."

"Yet we may try to be certain," Gimli said. "Has Legolas had any more to say in this matter?"

Faramir indicated a letter that lay on a table cluttered with maps and sketches of armor designs. "He has offered his service at my request."

"Good. I will say this for the Elves: they are excellent scouts. Let us take advantage of Legolas’s kind offer. If you will, Lord Faramir, I will ride to Ithilien and ask Legolas and his folk to scout the area. Perhaps the trail of Éowyn’s abductors is still fresh enough for Elves to follow."

Arwen smiled a brilliant smile, and Faramir and Éomer relaxed visibly. "That is an excellent idea, Master Dwarf," Faramir said. "When we discover the identity of those who have taken my wife and children, they will rue the day they were born."

Éomer raised an eyebrow at the Steward. "That is, if my sister has not already made them rue it."

Faramir laughed, for the first time since he had heard the news of the attack upon Emyn Arnen. "Well said, Éomer King. Master Gimli, please relay our request of aid in scouting to Lord Legolas."

Gimli bowed. "I will leave within the hour."

One of the horsemen Thano had assigned to guard the perimeter of the settlement trotted up to the big house. "I have seen riders coming from the south," he called. "They will arrive here soon."

The advance warning pleased Thano, for it allowed him to don his fine black cloak, stroll out into the yard, and await his guests with an air of cool expectation. He did not have to wait long before Haytham arrived, leading a troop of men clad in bright silks and shining armor. Thano attempted to remain impassive, but could not stifle a gasp of admiration for the glorious soldiers. Haytham grinned as he dismounted and strode over to greet Thano.

"They are the loyal remnants of my father’s house, who have sworn their fealty unto me to the utter end," he said. "They advance with martial noise and glittering aspect, and their splendor is the last sight to dazzle the eyes of their enemy."

"Impressive," Thano managed. "Do you have word from Lord Nasir?"

"I do," Haytham said. "Come, let us find shade, so that we may discuss the future with cool head and calm heart."

Thano nodded and ushered Haytham inside the house. "What does Lord Nasir say?" he asked. "Why does he not come with you?"

"Lord Nasir is occupied at the moment with matters of state for the Calif. He bade me make his humblest and most sincere apologies, and has given me orders to act in his stead, doing his will in all things."

"Good." Thano pulled his lips back in the grin he had been using more frequently. "Then you may tell him that I will begin to repay the debt I owe him. I have acquired a gift for my fellow Lord."

Haytham blinked. "Indeed. I am most curious to see this gift."

Proud that he had managed to startle the normally unflappable Haytham, Thano led the way down the stairs to the cellar level. He took the ring of keys from its hook on the wall and unlocked one of the storage rooms. With a triumphant flair, he threw the door open to reveal the blonde Princess and her children huddled in the corner, blinking in the light. "That is the Princess of Ithilien," he said. "I captured her when I led my best men on a trip to obtain slaves to work our fields. I offer her to Lord Nasir to help pay my debt."

Haytham stared at the Princess for a long moment. "You led your folk on a slaving raid in Ithilien?" he asked. "Truly, I am astonished. I had not realized that you had the will and the capacity to do such a thing. You have progressed further in your lessons than Lord Nasir or I would have anticipated."

"I have done well?"

Haytham nodded. "You have done very well. I believe that this gift will please Nasir. To possess such a concubine, as golden as the desert sands in the morning, eyes as blue as the Sea from whence my father’s people came . . . that is no mean thing in life. Yes, he will be pleased indeed. I would suffer you to keep her a while longer, though, for I may not return to Lord Nasir’s side immediately."

"Why?" Thano asked, puzzled.

"I have come to offer you yet another way in which you may make partial payment on your debt to Lord Nasir," Haytham said. "Do not fear. It is well within the capacity of one who has stolen slaves from Ithilien, and I will be at your side in any event."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Do you know anything of the lands beyond the Ephel Duath?" Haytham asked.

"Some. There is Gondor, where the King lives with his Elf. I have heard that other Elves live nearby."

"They do," Haytham assured him. "But it is in Gondor where our concerns lie. Gondor’s King is away from his palace at the moment. He tarries in Poros to parley with the Calif. He leaves behind a jewel of great value, which the Calif has greatly desired of late. Were Lord Nasir to come into possession of the Jewel of the Evening, he would be assured of the Calif’s attention to certain of his . . . suggestions."

"You want me to help you steal this Jewel of the Evening?" Thano chewed his lip thoughtfully. "That does not sound too difficult."

"I will be more than happy to offer my assistance, of course."

Thano nodded. "What does this Jewel of the Evening look like? Can I carry it in my belt pouch?"

"No," Haytham laughed. "The Jewel of the Evening is a fairer thing than any lovely stone. The Jewel of the Evening is the living form adorning the arm of the King."

"The Elf of Gondor," Thano breathed. "You would have me steal the Elf of Gondor."

Haytham nodded. "Surely not an impossible labor for one who has stolen the Princess of Ithilien with the aid of no force but his own."

Thano drew himself up to his full height. "It will be done. Together, we will take this Jewel of the Evening. And Lord Nasir of Harad will see that Lord Thano of Nurn has become a power to be reckoned with." He glanced briefly at Éowyn. "We will deliver the women together. It will be easier that way." Then he shut the door, locked it again, and escorted Haytham back to the main level of the big house, where they began to flesh out their plans.

Moving slowly, Neldorín studied the forest floor, carefully banishing expectations from his mind. Legolas had assigned him the task of tracking the Men who had abducted Éowyn of Ithilien, but had been unable to specify how many Men Neldorín was to seek or where they might have gone. Neldorín had assembled a small party of the settlement’s best scouts, including his wife, Arasiel, and their young son, Faron, who was learning the art of tracking from his mother. Arasiel had taken Faron and two other scouts to the south side of the road, as Faramir had given them permission to expand their search into the territory controlled by Men. They would meet at sunset at a particularly old and gnarled oak tree that Neldorín had specified to share the information they had gathered.

At the moment, Neldorín had found little of interest. The tracks in the forest indicated that only Elves and other forest creatures had passed by, and the trees expressed nothing save idle curiosity. With a sigh, Neldorín reminded himself that finding out where an enemy was not was almost as important as finding out where that enemy was.

Suddenly, the song of the trees shifted to one of alarm. Neldorín became instantly alert, and heard the sound of running footsteps. A voice called his name, and one of the two scouts who had searched the south side of the road burst through the underbrush. "Neldorín," she said, "you must come at once. Arasiel has need of you."

Neldorín was on his feet in an instant, following the scout through the woods and across the road. Arasiel lay at the side of the road, her head cradled in the other scout’s lap. Faron was nowhere to be seen. Neldorín sank to his knees at Arasiel’s side. She was conscious, though dazed and weeping. He clutched her hand. "What happened? Where is Faron?"

"Gone," she gasped. "I am so sorry. There were too many of them."

"Too many of whom? What happened?"

Arasiel did not answer immediately. Neldorín gathered her in his arms and held her tightly as she wept. After a few moments, she was calm enough to answer. "It was the Men. A great party of them, armed and on horseback. Faron and I were following strange tracks that seemed to lead back to the road, when we came upon them suddenly. They were surprised at our presence, but before I could give a signal, their leader pointed at Faron and said something in a language I do not know. Then they attacked us, and one of them seized Faron. I fought, and I tried to call for help, but there were too many of them. And now Faron is gone. I am so sorry, Neldorín! What will become of him? He is still so small." Arasiel choked back a fresh round of tears. Neldorín’s heart tightened, and he glanced at the other two scouts.

"We came when we heard Arasiel’s call," one of them said. "But we were too far away to arrive in time to save Faron. We found two sets of tracks along the road. One rider turned and rode east, while a greater party continued west."

"Gather the others," Neldorín ordered. "We will report this immediately to Lord Legolas. The large party is heading for the Anduin, and perhaps to Minas Tirith or Rohan. And the lone rider is going eastward to the Dark Land. I guess that he is the one who has my son." He patted Arasiel’s back. "Can you walk if I assist you?"

"I think so."

Neldorín helped Arasiel to her feet, and the little party stumbled across the road, whistling to call the rest of the scouting troop together. Slowly, they made their way back to the main settlement. Legolas came running to meet them, with Gimli hot on his heels.

"My Lord, we have found our quarry," Neldorín said, "or, rather, it has found us."

"Let us take Arasiel to the infirmary," Legolas said. "You may give me your report after we have seen her safe." He looked more closely at the rest of the party. "Did you not take Faron with you today?"

There was a sudden silence. Gimli stroked his beard. "Thereby hangs a tale, it seems."

When they had helped Arasiel to the infirmary and laid her down on a soft bed where her injuries could be tended, Neldorín and the other scouts told Legolas about Arasiel’s encounter with the Men and the conclusions they had drawn from that. Legolas did not interrupt them, though his hands clenched and his eyes blazed with cold fury. When Neldorín had finished speaking, Legolas was still for a moment, then swiftly rose to his feet.

"Eleven years ago, we saw the fall of the Lord of Mordor," he said. "But it seems that the evil that stains that land has not yet washed away. I will not surrender a child to that darkness. We will go after the rider who took Faron, and we will bring him back." He turned to Neldorín. "Will you ride with me? We will wait until you are rested enough to travel."

Neldorín glanced back at the infirmary where Arasiel lay. "Give me an hour to wash, eat, and arm myself, my Lord," he said. "And then I will hunt the Men who took my son from me."

"Good." Legolas said. "I will send a messenger to Minas Tirith to warn them to watch for the rest of the Men of Mordor."

"I will take that message," Gimli offered. "I must return to Minas Tirith in any event. But I thought you had decided not to take your folk further than the Ephel Duath without Faramir’s word."

"The earlier insult was to Emyn Arnen," Legolas said coldly. "That is for Faramir to avenge. This insult is to the Elves, and we will go without leave of Men."

Éowyn took a deep breath and stroked her hands over the sleeping bodies of her children as she tried to calm the nervous fluttering in her stomach. It would not be long before the serving woman came to bring food for Éowyn and the children. Their cell had no window, so Éowyn could not be certain of the passage of time, but she guessed that they were fed twice a day. A burly, sullen man brought one ration of food, and a thin, tired-looking woman brought the other. The last time she had visited, Éowyn thought she had seen two skinny, rat-like children peering suspiciously out from under the woman’s voluminous shawl. She hoped that the woman would bring her children with her this time as well, for Éowyn’s plan depended on that.

With a sigh, she shook Elboron and Olwyn awake. The children squirmed, peering around in the dim light from the cracks in the door. "Has the lady with our food come, Mama?" Elboron asked.

"No," Éowyn said. "She has not come yet. Elboron, Olwyn, I want you both to listen to me now, for I am going to tell you something very important."

"What, Mama?" Elboron asked. Éowyn wrapped her arms around the children and held them both close.

"Do you remember those two men who were here earlier?" Éowyn said. "They mean to attack the Citadel, where Papa and Queen Arwen are. In a little while, we will go home and warn Papa so that he may defend against them."

"We go home?" Olwyn squealed. Éowyn wrapped a hand over her daughter’s mouth.

"Yes," she said. "We are going home. But it will not be easy, so you must both listen to me very carefully. The first thing is that you must be silent unless I give you leave to speak. If either one of you disobeys me in this, I will not need to punish you. Thano will do it for me. He will whip you and send you to work in the fields. So you must be silent."

The children nodded. Éowyn smiled unpleasantly in the gloom. "You are good children," she went on. "We will leave after the woman has brought us our food and water. We must be very quick about packing it once she has brought it. Elboron, do you still have your water skin?" Elboron held up the empty skin. "That is good. We will use it to carry the water she brings."

At that moment, the door scraped, then opened. The ragged woman reached into the depths of her shawl and pulled out a loaf of bread and a dish of water. The two stringy children watched with enormous eyes. Éowyn took a deep breath and suddenly seized the woman’s arm.

"It is a hard life for you, is it not?" she said. After a moment, the woman nodded. "Look at you," Éowyn went on. "You drudge yourself to the bone bringing food. Your children look like sticks. I wager that you are little more than a slave."

At this, the woman straightened, and her eyes blazed. "I am free!"

"Ha. What does freedom bring you? Toil and starvation." Éowyn gestured at her cell. "I am a prisoner, and I live better than you. I rest and lie idle here with my children. You serve me, and your children starve. Which of us is better off?"

The woman shifted her feet and averted her gaze. One of her children sat down, and she hauled it roughly to its feet.

"Would you like to rest?" Éowyn said. "Would you like to sit here and sleep? Feel your children breathing softly at your side as you slumber? Dream the dreams that only come from peace and quiet? There is rest here, if you wish it."

"Yes," the woman said hoarsely. "I want to rest."

"Then give me your shawl," Éowyn said, "and you shall rest in the silent darkness."

"They will beat me when they find me," the woman said, "but I do not care. I can bear a beating, but I am so weary." She unwound the shawl from her body and handed it to Éowyn.

"Thank you," Éowyn said. She poured the water from the dish into the water skin and tried not to think about how little it was. She tucked the bread away into a pocket in the shawl and drew Elboron and Olwyn under its dark folds. The woman entered the cell, and Éowyn took the keys from her. Éowyn herded her children out into the corridor and locked the cell door. Looking around to make sure that no one had seen the exchange, she pulled a flap of the shawl over her head and took Elboron and Olwyn by the hand. "Come."

Imitating the woman’s hunched, dragging walk, Éowyn left the big house and walked through the fields, breathing the free air. The sun was just setting in the sky in a sea of flaming golds and reds.

They were in Mordor; Éowyn knew that much. To the west lay the Ephel Duath, and beyond that, somewhere, was Ithilien and Minas Tirith. Éowyn turned her face to the setting sun and walked beyond the village. When they had left the fields behind, Elboron tugged at her sleeve, silently begging leave to speak. She nodded at him.

"How will we get home, Mama?" he asked.

Éowyn stiffened her spine and squeezed the children’s hands. "We have no choice. We will walk."