Chapter 22 - Fading Luck
Legolas was still unsure of the passage of time. Before, he had spent so much time in the dark of the sweatbox that he never really knew if it was day or night. Now, between sleep and his continuing battle with maintaining consciousness, he had completely lost track of the number of days he had spent with the strange man. That he wasn’t sure how long he had been with his new companion before waking the first time, didn’t help matters. Even less helpful was his inability to communicate clearly with his surmised rescuer.
Legolas knew that the man had a checkered past, that was easy to see in his deep eyes and by the lines set around them, but he sensed no malice in him now and the elf most definitely felt safe. As well, the man was taking him back North, back toward Ithilien and Gondor, his friends and family. Whether his intent, once they arrived there, was good or bad, Legolas didn’t know. But if he was taking him away from this desolate land, a land where there were no trees to speak to him and Earendil always seemed hidden, then he would not complain about the journey.
Legolas almost started to believe that he was beginning to feel better, but he attributed that mostly to being out of the small, enclosed cell that he had spent so much time in. He could tell by the look on the man’s face, however, that he wasn’t doing as well as he had thought. The man tried to be positive and give Legolas hope with small smiles and gentle touches, but the Prince could see in his eyes that the man was doing it for his benefit.
If he stopped to take inventory of his injuries he would begin to despair and urge the man to push the horse to quicken its pace. At times it was difficult to take notice of his aching knee or stinging knife wounds, so overwhelmed was he with the throbbing of his head and trembling of his body. The earth still spun around him and he fought the queasiness that it evoked.
Quite possibly the most frustrating thing for Legolas, and presumably his companion, was the elf’s inability to hear. The pounding in his head was so loud and the pressure within was so strong that noise from without was almost completely blocked. What little sound did penetrate this barrier did so at such loud, piercing levels that it only intensified the headache that Legolas already felt.
Yet, his biggest battle came in the form of his desire to continue to fight. He could feel his life force diminishing and considered how much easier it would be to just go to Mandos’ Halls and have peace. It was the promise of returning home and taking that particular journey surrounded by the comforts that Ithilien yielded him, that kept him holding on. To pass from this world in such a hostile land was a terrifying thought.
Leaving without bidding his friends, his surrogate family, goodbye, was also something that Legolas did not care to do. Surely Angrod was blaming himself for what had occurred, that would be his father’s doing of course. Thranduil meant well, Legolas knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his father loved him. His father absolutely adored him and Legolas returned the gesture willingly. Thranduil’s assignment to Angrod when he departed Middle Earth was his way of showing the dark elf his trust and his golden son his love.
For now, as he sat nestled against this man and at his mercy, he willed the pain away and prayed his strength to endure for just a short while longer.
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Better time was being made than even Aragorn could have hoped for. Harad was so close now that even the weather had begun to advertise the harshness of the Southern lands.
The determined party of riders had left the protective covering of the trees a short ways back and there anxiety had begun to increase with the temperature. The hotter it got the closer they were and even though they hadn’t crossed the border into Harad as of yet, they knew that they were drawing near.
They had pushed on through the day, continuing their routine of taking brief stops to water the horses and stretch their own muscles. Now as the sun had begun to set and the air had begun to cool, Aragorn pushed the troupe a little bit harder.
"Just over that next rise." Angrod’s soft, sullen voice announced.
Aragorn looked questioningly at the dark elf. When has Angrod been to Harad to know that we are about to cross their border?
As though reading the King’s mind, the elf in question stated flatly, "I have been to the South lands before, I remember the way. It is just over that next hill that we will cross a line in which we may not return unchanged."
The somber mood of the party increased and Aragorn observed as expressions darkened and heads dipped. "Legolas has been deep in these unforgiving lands for many weeks now. I will do what I must to bring him home, no matter the price. My friend is worth it."
Dropped heads began to nod now and some semblance of light began to return to the travel weary group again.
"I am in agreement Aragorn and I would go with or without you at this point. I just feel it wise that everyone is aware of what might greet us." Angrod’s response was sound and unwavering and Aragorn knew the elf did not exaggerate.
"Well that is something that you do not have to worry about Angrod. We are here and we will continue and we will bring Legolas home." He knew what he said was true. He knew that he would not return from the Southlands empty handed. Legolas would be returning home.
"Then quit yapping and get moving or we will get nowhere." Gimli was shouting at the pair from the back of Eomer’s horse. "We have an elf to retrieve. Come on Eomer, get this wretched beast moving."
Aragorn let out a wispy laugh and urged his own animal into a canter. They were getting closer to Legolas even as they spoke. He could feel it.
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Another two nights journey and the going was slow. Alcandir had slowed the horse when he realized how badly the motion was irritating Legolas’ wounds. So, the horse moved at a measured and careful pace. He guided the animal around anything in their path that might jostle its passengers.
Against Legolas’ wishes, Alcandir had stopped during the day as well. He knew that the elf would need his rest after traveling through the night. Also, the daytime temperature had dipped, but not quite enough to make movement entirely comfortable beneath the sun.
Alcandir would use this time to check Legolas’ injuries and feed them both. He would also take some much needed rest himself. Legolas’ injuries had not improved, they still appeared red and inflamed and the strange wound to his shoulder blade continued to appear dark and the discoloration had spread even further from the knife hole. The prince still trembled uncontrollably and was racked with fever. Bouts of retching would still send Alcandir running to Legolas’ side, and the blood that was expelled now appeared somewhat darker in color.
The elf’s mood had improved, albeit only slightly, and his eyes seemed to shine a little brighter than when Alcandir had first seen him. The fact that the two had managed to communicate a little more using their own sign language may have helped some as well. Alcandir was frustrated that he could not answer the elf’s questions, and some words were just impossible to convey.
Alcandir had attempted to communicate to Legolas who he was and why he had come for the elf. After failing the first time he decided that it would be better left to King Elessar explain to Legolas why he had hired a bounty hunter to bring him in, so to speak. Somehow he thought that it would be an interesting conversation and he looked forward to listening in on the two.
Mostly Legolas lay with his eyes closed, either in sleep or having succumbed to the pain or sickness.
Aye, that we could only speak with each other. I am confident that I could learn a lot from you, and possibly this journey would not be quite so boring.
The unusual pair had stopped for the day soon after the sun had made a full appearance in the sky. Blue, without a single hint of white welcomed the fiery orb and discouraged all travelers from any hopes of clouded shade.
Alcandir had laid Legolas onto a blanket on the sand and erected the tent over him. The morning ritual had become so routine that he didn’t have to think about what he was doing, the motions became habit for him. After ensuring that the tent would stand, he then lit a small fire and covered it with a small pot of water. Their supply of water was beginning to run low and he had to be careful not to waste any. Once the water and shelter were taken care of Alcandir would take his usual seat next to the prone elf and set about tending to his wounds and illness.
He had managed to will himself into a light slumber and had stayed that way for a time when something pricked at his senses. Opening his dark eyes, he realized that the day had expired and the sun was almost out of view. The pink, iridescence that remained, gently lit the desert sky making it difficult but plausible to still see their surroundings.
Alcandir rose from the blanket that he shared with Legolas and scanned his environment, searching for the source of his sudden discomfort. Perhaps it was just his mind warning him that he was wasting time. Then he saw it, first it was just a slight twist on the horizon, then as he focused his attention, the twist materialized into constant movement. Men, there were men approaching from the South and they were approaching fast.
He ran to the horse and threw the saddle over its back and quickly strapped it down. Sneaking a glance back toward the approaching threat, he verified that it was definitely a large party of men.
Rushing to Legolas’ side he quickly scooped the elf up, not taking to much consideration of the elf’s injuries, causing him to moan in pain. Legolas’ eyes shot open at the motion and stared wide at Alcandir. He tried to reassure the Prince with his eyes, but was sure he had failed considering he was frantic himself.
He propped the Prince up onto the horse and swung up behind him. There was no time to collect their provisions and he cursed his luck as he kicked the horse into a run and left their camp and supplies behind. He would have to deal with that later, if they were able to outrun the men.
Holding tight to the elf, and to the reins, he held on for all that he was worth and prayed that the horse could outrun whoever it was behind them. He dare not venture a glance over his shoulder to check on their progress for fear that he would lose either himself or his charge. His focus was entirely on the horse and the path ahead.
I suppose this is my punishment for complaining of boredom. I will forevermore be thankful for a peaceful night’s sleep.
Legolas was quiet, he made not a single sound, not even to voice his discomfort at the rough ride and Alcandir suspected that the elf had lost consciousness once again. Actually, he hoped that Legolas had, the trip would be a lot easier for the elf if he had.
He could hear shouting coming from behind him, the indistinctness of it, however, told him that their pursuers were still a distance behind them but had spotted the pair. The horse would not be able to keep up its current pace much longer, especially carrying two. Although Legolas was quite light, the animal had been traveling extensively the past few days and Alcandir just hoped he could hold on long enough to discourage the party of men from continuing their pursuit.
Finally, daring a glance over his shoulder, Alcandir could now see the men more clearly, despite the lack of light. He could just make out the uniform of Marek and knew that Medero hadn’t been able to fool the guards for long and hoped that his old friend still lived. He admitted that Medero had made a foolish decision, but hoped he hadn’t paid for it with his life.
Soft whistling filled the air and Alcandir leaned forward as he realized that arrows were being fired from behind. He pressed his body tighter against Legolas’ trying to cut down on wind resistance and to protect the already hurting elf from further injury. The arrows thudded into the ground just behind them and he urged the horse harder to keep them out of range of the dangerous projectiles.
Your luck may be running out My Prince. I pray to the Gods that they will grant you with just a little bit more.
With that thought Alcandir focused his eyes ahead of him and pulled up. The horse didn’t stop running but it did slow down considerably. Alcandir’s jaw dropped, directly in front of them, just within site, another party of men rode toward them. They were surrounded. Arrows rained around them and the bounty hunter needed to do something quick. He pulled his sword from its scabbard and tightened his grip on Legolas as both parties closed in.