Chapter 23 - Flight and Fight
The exhilaration he felt as he closed in on the murderer and elf was immeasurable. Nolir was so close he could almost smell the man’s sweat, the elf’s blood. Soon he would have his revenge on the beasts who had humiliated him so.
His men, who would follow him to the very pits of Mordor, had ridden beside him without so much as a sigh of displeasure. They would not dare voice any disagreement with him because they knew that the reprimand would be swift and harsh. There was no room for argument in his regime and there was definitely no questioning of orders.
Sand sprayed up from beneath the horses hoofs and showered Nolir and his men. Wrapping their faces in dark cloth to prevent ingestion of the tiny particles was a long practiced habit in Harad and served them well in their current circumstance. They flew through the desert in pursuit of their quarry, their faces hidden and clouded in sand, they looked more like specters than a charging brigade.
Nolir pressed his horse harder in his pursuit and yelled to his men to keep pace. He shouted order upon order over his shoulder. Swords were drawn and arrows began to fly from several archers within the group. The arrows thunked into the sand just shy of their target.
Then something happened that Nolir did not anticipate. They slowed. The man they pursued slowed his horse and pulled his sword. He could not, for the life of him, understand why they had slowed. Was he planning on making a stand against twenty men? He didn’t stand a chance. Was he surrendering? He would not be taken gently.
He saw them then, another troop of men advancing from the North. They will not have you! "Faster!" he shouted again. He could not see who it was that approached but he would not be defeated in his quest for retribution.
Nolir pressed his legs into his horse then pulled out his own bow and notched an arrow. He took aim at the fleeing thief and let his arrow fly. A shout of joy rose above the other shouts as the projectile hit its mark and the man lurched slightly sideways. "I have you now."
The Northern party had increased their pace as soon as they had seen what was occurring in the desert before them and Nolir noted that they were also gaining ground on the injured fugitives. Shouts filled the air and arrows continued to rain down as Nolir notched another arrow. His horse was well trained and knew how to keep the ride smooth so he could have a steady shot. He let out a growl as he released the arrow and watched it sail.
Satisfaction couldn’t have been better as the arrow impacted with the horses hindquarters. The animal stumbled and the grin widened on Nolir’s face as he watched the passengers tumble from the safety of their equine’s back.
"Get them! Bring them to me!" Orders were aimed at his men.
His joy was short lived as pain shot through Nolir’s chest causing the Marek Captain to scream in agony. Looking down he was met with the disturbing sight of an arrow protruding from his own chest. The warmth left his fingers and his arm began to tingle and Nolir’s scream intensified as it turned from pain to anger
He tardily looked to his followers and was stunned to see some falling, dead, as they hit the sand. They were being attacked.
Beads of sweat began to form on Nolir’s brow as his displeasure escalated "KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!"
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Aragorn did not know what he was witnessing when he crested the hill and saw the large party chasing the lone rider. At first he had ordered a halt, not wanting to get involved, if necessary, in matters of law in Harad.
He called Angrod forward and asked him to aid with his enhanced elven sight. "What do you see?" He asked, trying to mask his irritation at being slowed by the scene unfolding in the desert before them.
Angrod remained quiet as he narrowed his eyes and focused on the single rider, then quicker then Aragorn could track, he whipped his bow from his back. "It is Legolas and the bounty hunter."
No further words were needed, Aragorn, Eomer, Gimli, Angrod and the Gondorian soldiers burst from their spot and raced toward the vulnerable pair, grim determination mirrored on all of their faces.
Ignoring the sand that was flying up into his face, Aragorn bent over his horses neck and whispered words of encouragement. He kept the flattened position, almost becoming one with the animal.
"Fire at will when you come within range." He shouted over the rush of wind to his men "But beware of Legolas and Alcandir". He had already retrieved his bow and it was pressed tightly to his horse’s neck. He rose up and notched an arrow and fired. It was difficult to see amongst the sand and he hoped more than skilled his arrow to hit its mark.
They slammed into the oncoming foes and shouts from the Haradrim could be heard ringing through the dusty air. Aragorn abandoned his bow for his sword and pulled it just in time to plunge it into a masked man who came up on his left.
He leapt from his horse, landing softly on the sand and pushed the animal out of the battle. Once he made sure the animal was on its way to safety he spun around just in time to see a large black horse coming directly at him. The horse didn’t slow or swerve but charged directly at the King, slamming into him and throwing him to the ground.
Aragorn landed roughly on his left arm, a loud snap accompanying the impact. Ignoring the pain, he quickly rolled onto his back and pushed himself up to his feet just in time to see the black horse coming back for another attempt at the King.
With his left arm pressed tightly to his side Aragorn spun and sliced his sword across the legs of the attacking horse sending both animal and rider tumbling over the sandy desert floor. Swiftly walking forward Aragorn came to stand over the fallen rider. He raised the blade of his sword over his head and with just a moment of hesitation, plunged his sword down sinking it deeply into the man’s chest.
The fury that he had been feeling over the past long weeks receded ever so slightly as he watched the life leave his opponent’s body.
Aragorn yanked his sword free and turned to see how his companions were fairing. Gimli spun around and drove a man to the ground with his axe. He had never seen the dwarf fight with such passion, not even during the War of the Ring, and he pitied those on the receiving end of his axe.
Eomer stood mere feet from Gimli, wielding his sword as expertly as ever. He took down two Haradrim simultaneously. They were all fighting superbly considering their tired state. He scanned quickly for Angrod but could not immediately see the dark elf, but his presence was well known when an arrow lodged into a man just inches from taking Aragorn down.
The King of Gondor turned and nodded quickly to Angrod in appreciation then went back to the existing battle. He felled two more Haradrim, ending their lives quickly and cleanly, then took one more look around the battlefield. Taking quick stock in his friends well being, his attention was quickly brought back to the purpose of the fight.
"Legolas!" The call rang out over the desert.
The bodies of dead men were scattered about him. Blood soaked into the sand and all appeared red beneath the setting sun making the site even more eerie. He was joined by his friends and the search commenced. Shouts of Legolas’ name boomed across the dry land, but no response was heard.
"Alcandir!"
No answer.
As the airborne sand floated back to the earth, vision became clearer. The injured horse that the lost pair rode was seen just to the west, limping heavily. Aragorn sprang into a run toward the horse, thinking that where the horse was, the elf couldn’t be far behind.
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Alcandir grabbed onto Legolas so tightly when the horse stumbled that he was sure he was impeding the elf’s breathing. He knew that the horse was going down and was going to take them with it. He had pulled Legolas closer to him in an effort to absorb some of the impact from the fall and to not lose him once they hit the sand. The elf, fortunately, had lost consciousness as soon as the chase had begun and had yet to regain awareness. Alcandir was grateful for this and he suspected that Legolas would be as well.
When they finally lost physical contact with the horse, the fall seemed to last an eternity. Perhaps it was the anticipation of the impact that made the time seem extensive to Alcandir. He had been successful in keeping his hold on Legolas and when the man hit the ground, the elf slammed into him less than a second later driving the air from his lungs.
Alcandir rolled Legolas gently off of him gasping for air. He pushed himself up onto his knees with his head bent over the Prince, mouth hanging open and eyes wide as he tried to force oxygen into his lungs. His chest burned and his eyes watered producing a blurred, swimming image of Legolas before him.
Calming his mind in an effort not to panic over his loss of oxygen, Alcandir’s lungs finally expanded and breath rushed back to him. Dragging in long slow breaths he then reached down and grasped the arrow protruding from his side.
Now is as good a time as any to take care of this small burden
Gripping the arrow shaft in one hand and the elf’s tunic in the other , Alcandir ripped the arrow from his side. The bounty hunter bit down on his lip to keep himself from screaming against the pain but couldn’t prevent the loud hiss of pain that the motion caused.
Clutching the shaft tightly in one hand, he released the elf and pressed his other hand tightly against the open wound. Blood spilled forth, staining his tunic and dripping off the edges. Alcandir leaned even further forward, resting his weight on the hand holding the arrow. He scanned over Legolas looking for signs of further injury. When he couldn’t see anything new and noted the slight, yet erratic, rise and fall of the elf’s chest, the man then flopped down onto his backside.
He closed his eyes against the pain and rested momentarily listening to the sounds of battle that raged behind him. Alcandir was perplexed by what had happened, but had given up trying to solve the mystery of the other army as soon as the horse threw him and the elf to the sand. He had other more pressing matters to think about at that moment.
"To your feet thief."
Alcandir slowly opened his eyes and looked to the source of the command. The guard from Kalen’s palace stood over him, blood pooling from a wound in his chest. His face now uncovered, Nolir scowled down at the bounty hunter. Alcandir let out a huge, exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes. "I am in no mood. Please, find another to torment."
Snarling as he spoke, Nolir grabbed Alcandir by the bicep and began to pull him to his feet. "I do not jest. I will have retribution."
Alcandir allowed the man to lift him to his knees and tightening the grip on the arrow still clasped in his hand, he swung his arm around, stabbing the projectile deeply into the man’s chest. Creating a new wound just opposite the other arrow wound, the arrow penetrated deep into Nolir’s heart. The Marek guard’s eyes bulged and he gasped loudly. Alcandir, removed his hand from the arrow and placed it firmly on the center of Nolir’s chest and shoved the unpleasant man away from him and Legolas.
"I told you, I am not in the mood."
He didn’t watch as Nolir fell to the desert floor with a thud. He had seen the life light leave the man’s eyes the moment that the arrow struck.
Falling back to his former position next to the elf, Alcandir lay his hand over Legolas’ chest and closed his eyes once again. Secure in the relative safety of his pursuers demise.