Nineteen

It happened so fast, so unexpected, that Legolas could only watch in horror as Jasper grabbed Torel from behind and sliced open his throat.

How had the man snuck up on them unaware, unseen, unheard? By the time he saw the movement and tried to warn the boy, it was too late to save Torel.

Sad as the young man's death was, Legolas had no wish to be the next victim. Even as the young man fell, Legolas grabbed the knife Torel had dropped and sliced through the ropes that bound him, no easy feat given his hands were bound.

He leapt to his feet, but the man was on him, anger driving Jasper into a murderous rage. He wielded Legolas's own elven blade, the steel flashing in the moonlight.

Legolas twisted, but could not completely avoid the strike. The sharp steel caught him across the back, slicing across his shoulder blade until it hit bone. He hissed but spun and blocked Jasper's second strike, catching the man's wrist and staring him in the eye.

Jasper sneered at him, unafraid. "Now we're even," he snarled.

The man was cold and calculating, but arrogant in regard to his abilities. Too arrogant, for with the wound Legolas had inflicted days ago, Jasper's other arm was still weak and nearly useless.

But this was no time to prove himself in a fight. Legolas knew he had only seconds before the other men were alerted of their struggle and the death of their comrade. He could feel the blood flowing from the wound on his back, but ignored the pain. It was now or never. They would escape, or they would die.

With deft fingers, trained from youth, he disarmed Jasper by applying pressure to specific points on the man's wrist. The knife dropped to the ground.

Jasper yelled out, but Legolas used the hold he had on him to pull the man close enough to slam the side of his other hand into the side of the man's neck, a move he had learned from the sons of Elrond.

Jasper went limp and sank to the ground, unconscious.

Perhaps Legolas should have used enough force to kill the man, but it was enough that they escaped into the dark.

He stooped and grabbed the knife, but as he moved to Caeri, he heard the cry of alarm from one of the men, the sounds of them scrambling from their bedrolls. He had to hurry!

He knelt before her and reached for the ropes around her ankles.

But to his surprise, she pulled away. "GO!" she told him, her voice distressed, "leave me! You have no time!"

Legolas did not blink, but gripped her leg to still her movements as the elven blade sliced like a hot knife through butter through the ropes binding her ankles. Looking up, he met her eyes even as his hands reached for the ropes around her wrists.

"NEVER! Never will I abandon one of my people! We will both return to Ithilien…or we will both die here." And with those words, Caeri's bonds fell loose.

Hauling her to her feet, Legolas turned her towards the trees with a small push. She stumbled, but he reached out and steadied her with one hand and she managed to keep her feet.

Then they were in the trees, fleeing into the night, leaving chaos behind them as they ran.

o —

For two nights and two days Aragorn and Gimli had followed their strange guide through the tall trees, heading northwest and stopping only when need arose. At least Aragorn followed her. Gimli followed blindly, trusting the man but suspicious of what he could not see nor hear.

Now, this third night, they alternated walking and trotting along through the dim trees, the horses snagging occasional mouthfuls of grass or leaves as they passed. Overhead, the half moon rose, then moved across the sky in its eternal dance with the stars. Ëarendil shone down on them, winking at Aragorn, as if urging him onwards.

They rode on. Few words were spoken between he and Gimli, but both knew the other's thoughts were on their friend and their strange guide.

Just what trouble has Legolas managed to get himself into this time? Aragorn wondered.

He questioned Rani about Legolas, if he were in danger, injured, but she gave him no answer.

"You will know when you know!" she told him sternly. "Is it not enough he is in need?"

"It is enough," he answered, and pushed Halruin into a trot as the girl took off at a run through the trees.

Sometimes she ran, and they trotted behind her. Sometimes she walked, one ear turned up as if listening for something from up ahead. And when they stopped to rest at his insistence, she usually slipped away not to be seen again until they roused and remounted.

Aragorn insisted on short rest breaks, for though Rani seemed tireless, he and Gimli were not. The trip from Minas Tirith had taxed them and their horses, for they had rode hard with little rest. He could feel exhaustion bearing down on him as it had not since the Ring War. If Legolas was in need, then he would need them with some measure of strength, or so he supposed based on Rani's pleas for haste.

But he kept those breaks few and only an hour or two, just enough to allow the horses to feed and to let them seek rest enough to keep from falling asleep on their horses' backs.

The moon was now low in the sky as they rested beside a gurgling brook. The horses cropped at the long grasses growing along its banks and drank deep. Aragorn and Gimli lay on a soft bed of meadow grass, Gimli softly snoring.

Aragorn had found sleep elusive on this odd journey. He understood Legolas's need to come home and see his family, and even his need to bid farewell to the wood alone. But to remain alone here for as long as he had? And not just that, for even before he had word of the elves removing themselves, he had noticed the darkness creeping into his friend's eyes.

But what could he do about the sea? Such things were beyond his ken and even understanding. He could not change what had happened. This he had known even last year. But now he understood better just why the sea longing darkened his friend's eyes.

Legolas would never leave them, not while he and Gimli lived. Nay, it was not an inability to resist the call that caused the elf to be so melancholy of late. It was the elf's focus on the call, and his refusal to follow it, instead of looking to the sun and letting those shadows fall behind him.

Aragorn hoped he would get the chance to have a discussion with Legolas about it. But for now, he could use a little sleep.

He gazed at the stars and eventually dozed off and slept, dreaming strange dreams of blood and a flashing blade, golden hair and piercing grey eyes tinged with pain.

Then he was swallowed by a crashing wave, dragged under the swell and pulled out to sea…and all the while the gulls sang their sweet song.

"You must awaken," came Rani's voice, dragging him back from sleep. He blinked groggily, and separated himself from his cloak which had become entangled about him as he slept.

He glanced at the stars and found from their placement that he had slept for a little over an hour. Then he glanced at the girl beside him, the moonlight filtering through the trees onto her golden hair turned it almost silver.

She turned wide eyes on him, fear filling her face. "We are almost too late," she told him. "I am needed. Continue on the same course we have followed, and make haste! I must go…"

And as he watched, she turned around and simply vanished from sight.

For a moment, he just stared at the space where she had stood, then he forced himself to rise and rouse the dwarf.

Gimli grumbled as he sat up, still half asleep. "Riding through the dark in the forest," he mumbled. "Following invisible children. Mahal save me."

Gimli's annoyance was obvious in his tone, his fatigue showing in the dark circles under his eyes.

"Well?" the dwarf asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Where is she at now?"

Aragorn shook his head. "I am not sure, Gimli. She disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Gimli's confusion furrowed his brow. "She left again?"

"No, not exactly," Aragorn answered, pondering what he had seen and trying to reconcile it with what he knew. "Well, yes, I think she has, but… "

He shook his head again, knowing beyond a doubt who the child was. "She vanished…simply faded from sight, until she was no longer there."

Gimli stared at him as if he were crazy. Aragorn knew he must sound so, but he was not.

"We must go," Aragorn told him, moving to prepare the horses. "I'll explain as we ride. We are getting close."

To be continued…

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