[Envinyatar]

Rhûnnaro

When he had come full circle, it was in front of Rhûnnaro that he stood. Turos held out the last skin of water to the Easterling and offered him a small portion of the dried meat and fruits. As they left his hands, he started to nod his head downward, averting his eyes from the overseer as a slave was required to do.

‘Turos, raise your face to mine. I would speak with you.’ Rhûnnaro spoke in a low voice, his words reaching only to the ears of the man who stood before him. Turos head came up slowly, his clear hazel eyes meeting those of the Easterling. The hint of a smile played on the lips of the older man as he watched the young man regard with him with a quiet confidence.

He is only a little older than my oldest son. he thought to himself. The smile left his face, replaced by a grave expression. ‘Fortune has not been kind to you,’ he said, his eyes sweeping over the bent and scarred body. ‘Yet I see that your spirit has not been killed by the circumstances of your life.’ His brow creased as he considered his next words. ‘As a slave all your choices were made for you, even the last choice of when you would meet your death. I wonder - can you make such a choice for yourself now. Face the possibility of your death as a free man.

Turos stood mute before him, saying neither ‘yes’ or ‘no’. His gaze stayed steady on Rhûnnaro’s face as he waited for the man to go on.

Rhûnnaro motioned him away from the group and sat down on the ground at the opening to the clearing. He bade the young man sit next to him, offering him the water and the remainder of the food. As he ate, Rhûnnaro spoke quietly to him of his plan, pointing out the area near the head of the clearing where he wished Turos to lie, drawing in the Hunters for what would seem an easy kill.

‘They will come for you, taunting and boasting as is their way. You must have the courage to cower before them like a wounded deer awaiting the touch of the blade that will end its life. We will fall on them then, and make what end we can of them.’ He brought his eyes back from the envisioned scene in the clearing to Turos, whose face bore a mixture of emotions and possibilities. ‘I cannot guarantee that you will not die. Not anymore than I can guarantee such for the rest of this little group.’ He made to get up, saying as he rose, ‘I will leave it to you to decide if you will do this. If you cannot, then we will find another way.’

He was only half-way up when his wrist was grasped in the strong grip of Turos’ left hand. Surprised at the temerity of the touch, he crouched down on a level with the younger man.

‘I heard you ask the woman, Haven, a question, just a short while ago. It is a long journey from here to the high, green plains of Rhûn, you said, and many green places lie scattered along the way. How far do you wish to come?’ Turos looked into the distance, his eyes narrowing at something just outside his range of sight. ‘I have thought about that as we traveled here. And I have my answer for you – to both your questions that you have asked this day.’

Rhûnnaro watched him as he sought to make himself clearly understood. ‘I will be the bait, my own free choice to do so. It is a small thing I can do, since I have no other way to battle the Hunters.’ Turos left hand strayed to his right arm, rubbing unconsciously the crippled useless limb which hung there. ‘And this is my other answer.’ He looked carefully at the man crouched before him. ‘I have no place to call my own. I wish to go all the way, to that last green place, with you – to your homeland, if you would have me.’

Turos looked away, then, not wanting to see the look of amusement that he feared might come from this request.

A silence fell between them, and then the clipped answer of the man from Rhûn. ‘No small thing, Turos. And yes, I will find a place for you.’

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Tenzin remounted his horse only a short time after they had arrived at the clearing. The women were taking what rest they could, and Rhûnnarro and he had discussed briefly their strategy. They could not keep pushing the women forward. The Hunters would soon draw near and it would be better to have their little band be rested and ready for battle than to spend futile time in trying to outrun them.

He headed back down the trail they had come. Moving like a shadow through the thickly grown trees and underbrush, several paces to the north of their actual path. The sun had moved a little more than a finger’s width in its arc when he heard them. He reined in his mount, and shading his eyes with his hand peered through the spaces in the limbs of the trees that hid him.

Four horses were what he counted as they picked their way closer, and one of the riders was covered in blood. He saw the dark gore covering her like some grotesque paint as she passed through the bands of sunlight that filtered through the trees. Carefully he turned his horse and headed back toward the clearing as quickly as he could . . .

[ June 11, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]