Chapter 12:  in the dead of night

The procession trudged silently through the dark forest. Sinaht was looking over his shoulder for the hundredth time in a short while. Always he expected Thoran´s bloodhounds to appear behind them.

The group of women and children had left his cottage in the dead of the night after a sentry had warned them. An elf identified as a fellow of Thoran had come suspiciously near their house. Sinaht had not taken any chances.

Now their only defence consisted of a few male elves flanking them left and right; no real protection should any trained warrior or something worse decide to attack. All elves, male and female alike knew how to handle a weapon and defend themselves but with all the children in their midst and against a trained opponent they would stand no chance.

Their destination was a small clearing still within the inner ring of the border. It was long deserted now, but once it had been a gathering place for families during the time when the kingdom moved north. The many simple but sturdy huts should still be usable, and it should be a good place to abide for a while. Only a few elves, who had made the journey north, still knew the exact location.

Sinaht could not think of a better place at the moment and hoped that it would not easily come to the mind of the elves supporting Thoran. It was agreed that the warriors still loyal to the King would join them there.

Now however his greatest worry was to reach the place at all. He could not really believe that Thoran would be insane enough to attack women and children but he would not bet on it.

It had been hard enough to convince the little ones to leave the warmth of the cottage in the middle of night but now they could no longer be placated while being told that it was necessary to trudge through frightening dark trees along a path that not even the moonlight could reach at all points.

Some began to wail, others to cry and some wanted to be carried all the way. Sinaht swallowed while he listened to the noise the group made. The elflings still on their feet were not yet able to make good use of their inborn skill to walk soundlessly.

The women did their best to hush the children and carried them if necessary but an attentive follower would hear them anyway. Hearing the wail of another little one, Sinaht looked over his shoulder again.

He could discern nothing but an attacker would make no noise before the strike. Maybe their luck would serve them a bit longer. In answer to the questioning gaze of his wife walking right beside him he shook his head.

“I’m growing paranoid,” he whispered and directed a concerned gaze at the elfling in his wife’s arms. After an initial tantrum and many convincing words Legolas had ceased all struggles and protestation. In fact he had not stirred since Isiwen had picked him up after leaving the house. He was not sleeping and his eyes gazed sightless into the distance.

With a sigh Sinaht shifted his sleeping son in his arms and listened again into the darkness. All of the children were distressed but everyone had at least one parent close by. Legolas felt alone and not even his friend Elion could make him feel better.

After three more hours of walking Siondel called for a halt. It did not make any sense to go on. The women and children were tired and the men were edgy. A rest would hopefully do them some good.

After everyone had settled down and the women had cared for the children by sharing the meagre supplies they had brought with them the elflings went silent, most from exhaustion, others because of fear. Two elves Sinaht could spare circled the camp. The Troop Commander was leaning against a tree trunk. He did not have the stomach to settle down; his worries for their group were keeping his senses on alert.

He had delivered his son back into his wife’s arms and looked fondly at his little family. Elion was mastering this surprisingly well. He was sleeping soundly next to his mother. Isiwen seemed to have found some sort of relaxation herself after she had seen to the other families.

Sinaht’s smile however vanished when he looked at the prince sitting forlorn on a log near the center of the glade. He had refused the offer from Isiwen to snuggle up to her and she had given him some space for privacy but only after the assurance of her husband to keep an eye on him.

Reassured by a signal from the sentries that all was quiet so far Sinaht took a deep breath and left his spot. He walked over to the log and lowered himself next to the boy. “Are you hungry?” he asked while he retrieved a wrapped bundle from his pocket. Without looking up the fair haired elfling shook his head and continued staring at his feet.

Sinaht placed the bread beside him on the tree trunk and edged a bit closer. He knew very well why the boy was so down. After the death of his mother Legolas shared a strong bond with his father. Since that fateful day the child lived in fear of losing the other foundation in his life as well. Until now he had never been separated from his father for any length of time. This forceful parting had left the elfling traumatised.

But how could he make what was happening clear to a child when he did not grasp all implications himself? How could the boy understand why Thoran wanted to supplant his father? Although Sinaht wished he could reunite the prince with his father soon, he did not succumb to this illusion.

They stood only at the beginning. All was in motion and unclear and no one of them had ever experienced such a situation before. This conflict could well stretch long and end bloody.

However, before he could think on the consequences for them if the unthinkable happened and Thoran would succeed, he heard something.

The lembas forgotten Sinaht whistled softly to alert his cousin Threlan sitting a few feet away with his young wife in his arms. Threlan looked up and at a sign of Sinaht he came over and scooped the prince up in his arms. He brought him to the other children sitting with them.

The Troop Commander and the other male elves readied themselves. The women were busy collecting the children into the group’s centre to defend them with their bodies if necessary. Sinaht observed knives and other weapons suddenly appearing in the hands of the women. A grim expression appeared on his face. An attacker shouldn’t regard this group as defenceless.

Redirecting his senses toward the dark forest he listened intently. But try as he might he could not catch another noise. Had his overwrought mind fooled him, or was there indeed something or someone out there?

Exchanging a glance with Threlan he stepped further away from the clearing to draw, whoever was out there, away from the women and the children. Carefully he readied his bow and wondered how loud the creaking of the wood and the string appeared to be.

Being a realistic person he knew exactly that if they were attacked by Thoran’s forces he would surrender so as not to endanger the life of their families.

Already doubting his senses he almost jumped when an elf dropped from a tree and landed right in front of him. He drew his bowstring taut but relaxed quickly, when he recognized the one standing before him.

“Galadhion,” he breathed relieved and grabbed the Crown Prince’s forearm in greeting. “You could have announced yourself.”

Smiling apologetically Galadhion peered past the trees at the clearing. Sinaht gave the others a signal. Bows were unstrung and knives re-sheathed.

Sensing the unspoken question Sinaht stepped closer. “All went well so far. No one has followed us as far as I can tell. Your brother is safe, but very unhappy.”

Galadhion nodded and fought down the urge to comfort his little brother personally. He tore his gaze away from the group. “I couldn’t detect anything unusual on my way here either. Everything is far too quiet and that makes me nervous.”

“Maybe Thoran has overrated his influence and is running out of men?” Sinaht remarked out of an impulse and regretted his careless words instantly seeing the grimace on Galadhion´s face.

“He still holds the King captive and that’s serious enough for me. We should not make the mistake of underestimating him.”

Placing a hand on the Crown Prince’s shoulder Sinaht squeezed it in sympathy. “Forgive me, my prince. My words were thoughtless and only spoken out of hope.”

Galadhion swept the apology away with a flick of his hand. “Nothing to forgive, my friend. We are all unfamiliar with such a situation.”

Not seeing but rather sensing the sigh of the Troop Commander Galadhion quickly changed the subject. “I’ve checked the gathering place. Many warriors have arrived there already. They are preparing the huts. It seems safe enough. A few other families have also arrived.”

Sinaht only nodded. Maybe they could reach their destination after all. To supply the families there with the necessary items for survival would be hard enough. He took a deep breath before asking: “Could you gather any news from the palace?”

A chill ran down the warrior’s spine when the King’s eldest son briefly closed his eyes. What had happened at the palace? This reaction did not propose anything good.

Feeling a touch on his arm Galadhion redirected his attention at his friend. “I was able deliver a message, but could not speak with my father. I do not even know if he was able to read the message…..” The Crown Prince trailed off. Sinaht shied away from the thought to consider why the King should be unable to read the message, given that the note has actually reached him.

However before Sinaht could replay anything Galadhion continued. “Thoran is controlling the palace by using members of the staff as hostages. How complete this control is, I cannot say. A direct assault has to be considered very carefully.”

Nodding Sinaht stored the information for good use later, albeit this news did nothing to let him look ahead with much confidence. Seeing there was more plaguing his friend Sinaht asked carefully: “What’s there further, my friend?”

Galadhion lowered his eyes. “I heard two of Thoran´s fellows talk about Saeron. They said he did not make it.”

Sinaht narrowed his eyes. “But you can still feel him through your bond, can you not?” he asked. When Galadhion nodded Sinaht let out a sigh of relief. “He’s alive, yes, but our connection is very weak…”

Making up his mind Sinaht quickly embraced his friend not caring for the many eyes watching them. “We must cling to hope. Your brother is strong. Maybe he could escape after all!”

Only nodding Galadhion stepped back. “Thank you,” he said with a lot of gratitude in his voice. Sinaht smiled back. “Come, say hello to your brother.”

To his surprise Galadhion shook his head and stepped back further into the trees. “No, as desperately as I want this, he would not let me go again. I will meet him and you at the gathering place. I will make sure no one is behind you.”

Sinaht nodded while Galadhion retreated further into the trees. Just as the Troop Commander turned to return to the glade, a high pitched cry alerted both warriors and froze them in place.

Galadhion had whirled around before Sinaht even had the chance to identify who had uttered the cry. Seeing the Crown prince hastening to the middle of the clearing and kneeling beside his brother Sinaht swallowed. What had distressed Legolas this much? He observed that the child was crying hard and his whole body was shaking.

Sinaht ordered one of his fellows to take his place and resume the watch. With quick strides he covered the distance to the glade’s middle. They had to calm the child otherwise they did not have to worry about possible followers any more. Legolas would alert the other elflings and the parents would be hard pressed to hush them again. The cry had to have been heard back at the palace anyway.

Seeing that Galadhion was rocking his little brother back and forth and murmuring something he did not understand Sinaht waited a minute longer before he placed his hand on the Crown Prince’s shoulder.

Galadhion looked up and Sinaht could see the tears running down the elfling’s pale face his head lying on his brother’s shoulder.

“What is it, little one?” Sinaht asked while he stroked the fair hair of the child. While Galadhion had closed his eyes, Legolas’ blue eyes focused on him. Sinaht’s heart missed a beat at the soft but clearly spoken words. “Why do they hurt Ada?”

Sinaht swallowed. What could he possibly answer to that and why was the boy even asking such a question? He looked in the direction they had to go. The path ahead appeared much darker now.

To be continued…………………………..