46: Mithrandir and Isenwulf

"Mithrandir!" Aragorn said, his expression one of shock and disbelief. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Why, waiting for you, dear boy," the Wizard said with a wink. "Did I not tell you that when next we met it would be under different circumstances?"

"What!? B-but that was just a dream!"

"Was it? Ah, well, perhaps it was at that." Gandalf sucked on his pipe and gave Isenwulf a knowing smile.

Aragorn stared at the Wizard for a long moment and then in three quick strides he was at the doorway leading into what was obviously a bedroom, pushing back the curtain that separated it from the main room and standing there, still as a statue. Gilhael never moved from the door and the two older men remained seated. After a long moment Aragorn turned around, his expression one of confusion and perhaps even of fear.

"It’s the same room," he whispered. "It’s the same room. How is that possible? What devilry is this?" He staggered, putting a hand to his head, feeling suddenly dizzy.

At once both Gilhael and Gandalf were at his side, gently leading him to the chair the Wizard had vacated. Isenwulf, meanwhile, rose and poured some ale into an empty cup, thrusting it at Aragorn. "Here, youngster," he said in heavily accented Westron. "Drink this."

Until that moment, Aragorn had been unaware that he had automatically addressed Gandalf in Sindarin and the Wizard had replied in kind. Now, however, he made a conscious effort to speak in Westron after taking a quick sip of the heady brew, shaking his head. "It’s not possible. How could I..."

"Ah, well, as to that," Gandalf supplied with a sympathetic smile. "I think my Lord Irmo had a hand in that, perhaps preparing you for this moment. Do you remember what I told you in the... er... dream?"

Aragorn gave the Wizard a searching look. "You said I was safe."

"And indeed you are," Gandalf replied with a nod. "You need have no fear of betrayal under this roof. Isn’t that correct, Isenwulf?"

The older Man nodded, giving them a grin through his mustaches. "Yes, safe. You are all safe under my roof."

"But now, my friends," Gandalf said. "You must explain why you are here."

"Thengel wants to speak with Isenwulf," answered Gilhael. "He asked us to... er.... invite him to meet him at Dunharrow."

"Hmm... well that might not work," Gandalf said with a frown, rubbing a finger and thumb on his chin in contemplation.

Isenwulf shook his head. "I cannot leave here as yet. It would not be safe...."

But Aragorn was no longer listening. Memories of Underharrow and all that had happened of late came rushing to the fore and before anyone could react he was on his feet, a knife suddenly in his hand, as he grabbed Isenwulf by the placket of his tunic and pushed him up against a wall.

"Safe?" he fairly snarled. "How safe were the children of Underharrow, my lord? I should kill you now for your treachery against innocent folk...."

"Estel!" "Cousin!"

Aragorn felt rather than saw Gilhael by his side, pulling him away from the Rohir, who never flinched, his blue eyes steely and calculating, as the older Ranger dragged his younger cousin from him, pushing him into a chair and pulling the knife from his hands. Gandalf gave the younger Man a stern look.

"Enough! I will not tolerate such histrionics from you or anyone else. Do not presume to know everything, young man, for you do not. What happened at Underharrow was unfortunate but...."

"Unfortunate?" Aragorn leaped up yelling, his expression one of outrage, his grey eyes flashing with disgust. "You were not there when Thengel laid a child, a child!, on the funeral pyre wrapped in his own cloak. You were not there when he later sifted through the pyres to collect the ashes of his people who were callously murdered by their own. And he!" — he pointed at Isenwulf who never left his place by the wall — "he consorts with traitors. How do I know he didn’t order the burning of Underharrow himself?"

"Peace, Estel, peace." Gandalf said as he took the younger Man by the shoulders and gazed intently into his eyes.

Aragorn found he could not look away and suddenly felt awash with a wave of compassion and sorrow too deep for him to comprehend or fully accept. He closed his eyes and sagged into the Wizard’s embrace, sobbing. Gandalf held him, refraining from speaking, merely offering him comfort. Neither Gilhael nor Isenwulf moved. Finally, after several minutes, the sobbing slowed and the young Man moved out of his friend’s embrace, wiping a sleeve across his eyes, looking much younger than his years with that single gesture.

"I think we can all do with something soothing to drink," Gandalf said as he gently guided Aragorn to a seat. "Isenwulf, let us have some tea."

The older Man grimaced. "Bah! Tea is for old women and sick children."

"And for old Wizards," Gandalf said, giving his friend a knowing smile. "I am sure that Reinhild has some stashed in the cupboard somewhere."

Isenwulf nodded once and went to the cupboard where dry goods were stored, rummaging about until he found what he was looking for. Soon, a kettle was on the hob boiling away. Meanwhile, Gilhael stationed himself by the door, not sure what he should be doing. Nothing was going as planned and he wondered what other surprises were in store for them this night. Gandalf stood next to Aragorn, gently rubbing his shoulder, willing calm. For several moments no one spoke. Soon, though, Isenwulf was laying out the tea paraphernalia. With a little urging from the Wizard, Aragorn found himself sitting at the table with a mug of hot sweet tea in his hands. Taking a cautious sip so as not to burn his mouth, he felt himself relaxing even more and sighed with relief. The other three men took their own seats with Gilhael facing his cousin.

"Now that’s much better," Gandalf exclaimed, taking a sip of his tea and smiling benignly upon them all. Isenwulf grunted, but whether in agreement or not, it was difficult to say.

"Mithrandir," Gilhael finally ventured. "What are you doing here in the enemy’s camp?"

Gandalf frowned. "Enemy camp? A rather harsh judgment, my boy. We are all friends here and most of the good people of Upbourn would fight for Thengel if given the chance."

"They closed their gates to Thengel," Aragorn said baldly.

"The rebels closed the gates, youngling," Isenwulf said gruffly. "Most of us had no say in the matter."

Aragorn stared at the man he still considered a traitor to Rohan whatever Mithrandir might say to the contrary. "You must come with us, sir. Thengel demands your presence and I will not deny him the pleasure of your... company."

The older Man shook his head, his eyes more sad than angry. "I cannot go. To do so will mean death to my family."

Both Dúnedain raised eyebrows at that statement. "What do you mean?" Gilhael asked.

Isenwulf gave the Ranger a steely look. "Think you that I would betray my oaths to Thengel King for... for that woman? My wife, Reinhild, and my youngest daughter, Isenhild, are kept as hostages in Edoras to ensure, if not my cooperation, then at least my good behavior." He snarled at the mug in his hand as if its very presence affronted him and he stood to retrieve his goblet of ale, topping it before sitting down again. He took a large swig before setting the stein down. "If I am missed, they and others will be summarily put to death."

"Others?" Aragorn asked softly. He was beginning to understand that more was going on than met the eye.

Isenwulf nodded, looking suddenly morose. "Aye... most of the children...."

"Where are they being held?" Aragorn demanded.

Isenwulf glanced up at the younger Man, his expression puzzled. "There is a barracks to the left of Meduseld where...."

"I know where it is," Aragorn said, giving Gilhael a significant look, which his cousin recognized.

"Oh no, my lord," he said, switching to Sindarin, "we are not going to Edoras to rescue anyone."

"Oh?" Aragorn said and Gilhael cringed at his cousin’s tone, mentally cursing his Chieftain and all the Valar.

"We came here to get Isenwulf and that is all," he insisted. "Besides we have no way to get into Edoras."

"I can get you in."

The two Rangers stared in surprise at the Wizard who gazed back with a faint smile on his lips.

"Well, even if that’s true, Mithrandir," Gilhael averred reluctantly, switching to Westron again, "how do we get them out without anyone noticing? One or two people, yes, I have no problems with that, but...."

"How many hostages are there?" Aragorn asked Isenwulf.

"Twenty, not including my wife and daughter. They were taken to keep the little ones in line."

"How old?"

The Rohir shrugged. "The youngest is perhaps five and the oldest about eleven or twelve." He pulled another swig of the ale and gave them a defeated look. "I was able to convince Éolind that taking babes as hostages meant taking their mothers and half the nurseries in Upbourn. Too much trouble. I tried to get them to take someone other than the children as hostages but...."

Gandalf leaned over and placed a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. "You did what you could to keep your people safe, old friend. Do not despair. We will save your wife and daughter and the children."

"And how do you propose to do that, Mithrandir?" Aragorn asked. "You said you could get us into Edoras, but can you get us and everyone else out?"

"Oh, to be sure, to be sure."

Gilhael suddenly laughed though it held little humor. "It is said: Go not to the Elves for advice for they will say both ‘no’ and ‘yes’, but no one ever warned us about asking Wizards, for they will only say ‘maybe’."

Gandalf hrumphed as he took a sip of tea but his eyes were twinkling with veiled amusement. "And they would be correct," he said, "for all paths are equally evil and none can say which road will lead to victory and which to ruin. Not even the Powers in the West can say. So if I am chary with my words it is for good reason, my dear Gilhael. Rest assured though that I do not speak idly or to offer vain hope. A way can be found to bring you into Edoras and a way will be found to bring you out safely."

"This is madness, Cousin," Gilhael exclaimed, switching to Adûnaic. "We have not the time or permission. Do not forget that others await us and will likely do something... rash if we do not return in time."

"Others, you say!" Gandalf interrupted, frowning. "What others?"

"My brothers," Aragorn explained, smiling grimly at the Wizard’s startled look. "They wait for us near the ruins of Underharrow."

"And you know full well, Mithrandir, that if Estel is even five minutes late..." Gilhael began but stopped when the Wizard raised a hand, his eyes shuttered as he sat deep in thought.

They all sat in silence while Gandalf continued thinking, wondering what the Wizard would do next, so they were rather surprised when he opened his eyes more fully and nodded. "Well, that puts things in a different light. I suggest we all sleep on it and wait and see what the morning brings."

"What?" Aragorn demanded, standing. "You know Elladan and Elrohir will tear this town apart with their bare hands if necessary to find me. They will not rest until they do and innocent people may well be hurt or killed along the way."

They had switched back to Westron during the last bit so Isenwulf was able to figure out something of what was being said. He gave Aragorn a smile. "Your brothers I can see are very protective of you, but I do not think they will get far with a frontal assault and they are only two, after all."

"Except these two happen to be the sons of Elrond of Imladris," Gandalf said with a chuckle. "and they have spent the last five hundred years destroying orc armies singlehandedly. If they want to raze Upbourn to the ground they will have no problem doing so, though I doubt they will go that far." He turned to Aragorn. "I assume they know how to find this place."

Aragorn nodded. He ignored the look of disbelief on the Rohir’s face as Isenwulf stared at him. There was no time to explain and Aragorn was not in the mood.

"Good, good," the Wizard said. "Then we can just wait for them to show up."

"My friend," Isenwulf said with a resigned look on his face as he turned his attention to Gandalf, deciding to shelve the enigma of the young Dúnadan for another day. "You only get more mysterious as the years go by."

"Heh?" Gandalf said, giving the older Man a skeptical look. "Well, be that as that may, I think it’s time for all of us to retire. The curfew is long past and we do not want to draw undue attention to ourselves."

Isenwulf nodded and in a few short moments he was showing Aragorn and Gilhael the loft where his children normally would sleep. "My sons are grown and now ride with Hilderic in the Westfold and my other daughters live elsewhere with their own families. Only my Isenhild is left." He swallowed noisely and Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Fear not! We will rescue your Isenhild and all the others. You have my word."

Isenwulf stared at the younger Man for a moment before nodding. "My sons’ cots are on the other side of the curtain. Good night."

They heard him make his way down the ladder and then there was a dousing of lights so only the banked coals in the fireplace gave any illumination. Gandalf, it seemed would be taking Isenwulf’s bed while the Rohir camped out before the fireplace on a pile of rugs and furs. The two Rangers divested themselves of their gear and lay down on the cots. For a long moment there was only the sound of sheets rustling and beds creaking as they settled towards sleep.

"So, how long do you think they’ll wait?" Gilhael asked his cousin, speaking softly.

"They are already making their way here," came the sleepy answer as Aragorn yawned.

"What do you mean?" Gilhael asked and even in the darkness Aragorn could hear the confusion in his cousin’s voice and smiled to himself.

"My brothers will be here before dawn," was all he would say and then he rolled over, pulling the thin quilt about his shoulders and settling himself to sleep. After a moment, he heard Gilhael sigh as the older Ranger also drifted towards sleep and then only Isenwulf’s snores broke the silence.

****

Aragorn felt a hand over his mouth and without conscious thought a knife was in his hand and at the throat of his assailant. He opened his eyes to see Elrohir grinning down at him, a finger to his lips. He gave a quick nod even as he removed the knife from his brother’s throat. The Peredhel moved slightly to the left, allowing Aragorn a glimpse of Elladan waking Gilhael in similar fashion. The older Ranger’s reflexes were just as sharp as ever and in a second he had Elladan pinned to the floor with a knife to the Half-Elf’s throat.

"And good morn to you," Elladan said with a grin before he did some impossible move that Aragorn could not see in the predawn light filtering through the small shuttered window at the other end of the gable. In short order Elladan had Gilhael disarmed and was now straddling him instead.

Gilhael glared up at the grinning heir of Imladris. "Ever hear of knocking?"

The two Peredhil laughed softly as Elladan released his hold on Gilhael, smoothly rising and giving the Mortal a hand up. Aragorn gave his cousin a smug smile as he too rose from his bed. "Told you they would be here before dawn."

Elrohir rewarded him with a quick slap on the back of his head. "Breakfast is waiting," was all he said and he and his brother made their way down the ladder like twin ghosts, silent and ethereal in their movements.

Aragorn and Gilhael went through their ablutions quickly and were soon downstairs where they found a bemused Isenwulf sitting at the table with an amused Gandalf while Elrohir was fiddling with the kettle and Elladan was laying out plates and mugs. The two Rangers took turns using the privy and then joined everyone in the common room just in time for the twins to serve them fried eggs and bacon, along with some toasted bread. There was also tea and even Isenwulf did not refuse any in his bemusement to see two whom he could see were Elves making breakfast for him. As they sat and ate the twins and Gandalf spoke softly in Sindarin, the Wizard catching them up on everything that had been discussed the night before.

Aragorn noticed his brothers exchanging looks that even he could not read for all that he had grown up with them. They turned their attention back to the Wizard. "So, you want us to help with the rescue attempt?" Elladan asked. Of the two, he was the better at devising strategies, though Elrohir had a firmer grasp of logistics.

Gandalf nodded, looking calmly at the Elrondionnath. For a long moment no one spoke. The twins gave each other significant looks and it was obvious some sort of silent communication passed between them. Then, they looked at the three Mortals and one Wizard and smiled as one. "Well, Estel. It looks as if you’ve gotten yourself and us into another mess."

"That’s right, Elladan. Go ahead and blame me," Aragorn snarled, not at all pleased at the teasing looks on his brothers’ faces.

"Oh, don’t worry, little brother," Elladan rejoined. "I have every intention of laying this one at your feet when Thandir starts asking embarrassing questions."

Gilhael snickered, which earned him a glare from his Chieftain. Then Aragorn sighed, realizing that they were only jesting. If anyone was going to be blamed for this hare-brained scheme it was going to be a certain Wizard with a fondness for Halfling leaf. The Chieftain of the Dúnedain was going to make sure of that.

"So, what’s the plan?" Elrohir asked and soon they were deep in discussion about an impossible mission to rescue hostages out from under the very noses of their captors as Anor rose in the east.