Twenty-One

Brigus' hands shook as he wrapped Torel's body in a blanket. He was beyond feeling anything. All he could think about was that his little brother was dead, and it was his fault. If he'd not pushed Torel to come with them, his brother would be safe back at the farm.

He tied the blanket in place with a length of rope, then stood and walked away, letting his mind go over and over what had happened, rather than focusing on how he felt about it. And the more he thought about what had happened, the numbness inside him turned to a cold fury that filled him.

He and the others had awakened from a shout by Jasper and sounds of a struggle. Brigus had scrambled from his bedroll, nearly falling in his haste. It'd taken him a moment to realize the sounds came from where the elves had been tied, and all he'd considered was that if the elves escaped, then they'd lose any chance of finding the treasure.

The elves were free from their ropes before he could get to them. They'd fled into the dark woods, leaving him, Sirk, Nirk and Prem staring after them. Then they'd turned their attention to the two men left behind on the ground.

Jasper was alive, just unconscious. But Torel—

Brigus's heart wrenched with an unfamiliar pain as he remembered the sight of his little brother lying crumpled in a pool of his own blood. His throat had been slit!

How could this have happened? He'd just wanted to fix up the farm for Torel and their mother and be able to live a life of leisure. How difficult was that? They'd just needed to find the elves' treasure!

But instead Torel was dead on the ground, wrapped in just a blanket. Their mother would never get a chance to tell him goodbye. Torel would never bed the girl next door or marry her. Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to!

Jasper stirred, groaning.

"Get up," Brigus hissed at the man. It was time he had some answers as to what'd happened to get Torel killed.

Jasper rolled over and slowly sat up, looking around the clearing in a daze. Then his eyes landed on the wrapped body of Torel. He stared at it with cold eyes, then turned and met Brigus' gaze.

"The elf did that," Jasper confirmed. "Killed him in cold blood."

"How did they get loose? Those ropes were tight!"

Jasper rubbed his head, still looking a bit dazed. Then he shrugged. "I dunno exactly. I woke up and saw Torel bending over that elf, Lass. Looked like he was cutting his bonds."

"You saying Torel set 'em loose?" Brigus asked in disbelief. He knew Torel was soft, having been coddled by their mother. He had been her baby. Brigus had tried to make him more of a man. It was why he had brought Torel along.

But Torel had argued against holding the elves captive. He'd also been against their using the woman to satisfy their lusts. It wasn't impossible that his little brother had decided to set the elves loose. As far as Brigus was concerned, it didn't matter what Torel had done. It only mattered now that Torel was dead and that was unforgivable!

"I'm saying what I saw," Jasper's voice was laced with ice. "Torel had a knife and was cutting the elves loose. I jumped up and grabbed the knife we took off the elf and ran to recapture him, but that elf…" He cursed.

"That Lass, soon as he was free, turned on your brother, took his knife and before I could do anything, he cut Torel's throat and left him to bleed out on the ground."

Brigus grit his teeth. The elf, would suffer for that!

"I managed to get to him before they could run off, and I cut him real good on his back and called for you to come help. But then the next thing I know, he's done twisted my arm and the knife fell and.."

He shook his head again. "That's all I remember." He glanced around the clearing. "I guess you didn't catch him before he escaped then?"

"No," Brigus said. "They ran into the woods."

The sound of a shovel biting into the earth broke the stillness of the night.

Prem was working by firelight to dig a hole in the ground with a small spade they had brought with them. They would have to bury Torel here in this clearing in the middle of this nasty forest. There was no way they could transport his brother's body back to their town. None of them were even sure how to return home from here.

Anger surged through Brigus again, and he clenched his fists tightly as he stared at Prem digging. Tears leaked down the boy's cheeks.

Brigus told him to stuff them. Tears were for weak men, and children. They needed to be strong now.

Looking down at Torel's wrapped body, Brigus let his guilt slip away. No, this was not his fault! He had not caused this. He had only tried to make their lives better. It was the elf that had done this, killed his brother in cold blood. Lass should have just led them to the treasure, but instead he'd plotted and led them in circles until they were lost in the wood—and killed Torel.

Brigus swore that he would find the elves and make them suffer for this. Both elves would pay for Torel's death, and pay dearly.

He glanced at the sky. Dawn was not far off, but he did not want to wait for the light.

"Sirk!" He walked over to where the twins were searching the edge of the wood with a lantern. "Did ya find anything?"

"Aye, found some blood. Trail leads into the trees."

A cold satisfaction filled Brigus as he stared at the blood on the leaves. They would find those elves and bring them back here and then the fun would begin.

"Follow it and bring them both back." He stared hard at the scar on Nirk's face. "Don't kill that murdering elf. I wanna do it. It's my right."

Nirk nodded. "I might have to rough 'em up some, though, to get 'em back here."

"As long as he's alive when he gets here, I don't care what you do to him. But don't touch the girl." He glared at both men. "I want Lass alive long enough to watch me take her first. Then each of you can have her as well."

Sirk and Nirk grinned. They didn't care who got the woman first, so long as they got a turn.

"After…" Brigus continued, "When we've all had our fun, even Prem over there, then, I will kill the elf, just as he killed Torel." Brigus would enjoy watching the elf bleed to death…a death Torel should never have had.

Sirk and Nirk sneered, then slipped into the trees, following the trail of blood the elves had left as a guide.

— o —

When the sky began to lighten, Lancaeriel hesitated in waking Lass. He slept deeply, his head resting against the trunk of the old oak. He needed the rest, but he also needed food and water—as did she.

Her own mouth was parched, and she could not fathom going further without something to sustain them. The half sips of water she had been given over the days captive by the men were not nearly enough. Her back still ached fiercely, and she felt weak and strange, Was this how mortals felt when they were ill?

Lass showed no signs of waking. Glancing up at the graying sky, Lancaeriel decided to let him sleep a few minutes longer. She would go and find at least something for them to eat. Even some berries would be better than nothing.

She took his knife with her out of habit. Her father had taught her from youth never to go into the forest to harvest without a blade. In the grey light of predawn, she could more easily see the vegetation and made quick work of scouring the area for anything edible.

In just a few minutes, she found a few handfuls of berries on a low bush and popped half of them into her mouth. The berries were not yet ripe, and instead of sweet and tangy, they were bitter and sour. But they were food and would provide nourishment.

The rest she saved for Lass, using his knife to cut a square piece of cloth from the length of her tunic along with a narrow strip to use as a tie. She wrapped the berries up in her makeshift sack and tucked it inside her shirt before continuing her search.

Where there was one bush, there was likely another, so she cast a quick glance at the oak, then increased the area of her search. Just a few minutes longer. The food would be worth it.

She ranged in ever increasingly large circles from the oak, but kept it in sight. It was the largest tree in the area and she could easily find it again. Her search had turned up several roots and berries and a few herbs. A few more minutes and she would have the makings of a decent breakfast for them!

Then she became aware of a soft tinkling sound, its voice calling to her to come.

Water!

She limped towards the sound, thinking only of satisfying her thirst and being able to lead Lass to it when he woke. He needed to drink after losing so much blood! Then, refreshed by rest, their thirst satisfied and a little food in their bellies, and they would be able to head south and begin the long trek to Ithilien.

With a soft smile, she continued towards the luring sound.

o —

Legolas woke with a start.

The first thing he noticed was that his shoulder ached. Then he noticed that the sun had risen just over the horizon. He had overslept! They had to move!

He glanced about for Caeri, but there was no sign of her in the tree. He looked around for his long knife, but it too was missing. Fear had his heart pounding and his wound throbbing as he began the slow descent from the tree to look for her.

At the bottom, he searched for any signs that the men had been here, but found none. There was nothing to indicate a struggle.

So where was she then?

He supposed she could have taken the knife for protection and slipped into the trees to tend to personal needs, and that should not take long. He hesitated calling out to her for fear the men would hear, if they had dared search the woods for them. He would wait a couple of minutes and then start looking for her.

After five minutes, he began to worry. He started to search for signs of her passing and found a small berry bush that had been stripped of its fruit.

So, she was looking for food, he supposed. Foolish, but understandable, given their lack over the past few days. He remembered her concern for him during the night, and the care she had shown in tending his wound while he had lost himself in the song of the sea. It was always worse at night, especially under the stars and even more so with him weakened and wounded.

No, he could not even rouse himself to be irritated with her for looking for sustenance, considering the state he had been in while she tended him. She had not understood that it was not so much a lack of food or water that caused him to drift. He could use water, for certain, with the amount of blood he had lost, but he could also go on for a time without it, especially since he had rested several hours.

A soft rustle came from up ahead, coming in his direction. He sighed in relief, surmising that she returned from gathering some form of breakfast for them.

But it was not Caeri that emerged from behind a tree. A knot lodged in his throat as his gaze landed instead upon little Rani.

Her eyes were filled with fear and despair. Her gold hair was mussed with twigs and leaves. In her hand, she held his white knife.

And her white dress was splattered with drops of blood.

To Be Continued…

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