[Arry]

The Dunedain . . . Rôsgollo’s thoughts were hesitant at Lord Ereglin’s question. He sought a way to frame his answer in a better light.

Come, Rôsgollo. I am no child to need your words couched in softer phrasings. Speak plainly. They did not come for us. Ereglin’s piercing statement unleashed a flood of words . . . the hesitancy of the Captain from the first . . . his excuses . . .

But we have come, my lord. Along with Angóre and a young Dunedan soldier who offered his aid. We three must serve, and it must be enough with your aid and what information Lady Erenor has given us. Rôsgollo regretted his lapse as soon as he had thought it. Lord Ereglin picked up on the number three, saying he thought there were mention of four.

And so there are . . . said another voice, breaking in on the conversation. Gaeredhel came softly up on foot behind his brother. I stayed behind for a moment to see that no Orc followed after us as we approached their camp. There were none. Nor did I see any sign of Dunedain troops approaching. Gaeredhel smiled grimly at his brother. Though, I left signs of our way that they might read should they come.

Rôsgollo’s eyes played over his brother’s advancing form. He seemed fit enough, though he noted he held his right arm close to his chest, and led his horse with his left. He would not be able to use his bow and his blade work would be weaker with his left arm. But then, he thought, he need only whack roughly at the Orcs; they were not known for their skillful moves, only their brute strength.

A hurried conference was held between the three Elves, and Lady Erenor contacted. She was, it seemed, less drowsy from the Orc’s potion. It was her that had first shown the outlay of the camp, bringing the would be rescuers near to where the prisoners were held. And she was the only one with a weapon still available to her. What of Bethiril? And the woman and child? Rôsgollo asked.

Bethiril had feigned drowsiness as had the other two Elven prisoners. She was as awake as either of them. The woman and child had not been drugged at all. There had been no need. The Orcs had made it plain they would kill the child should the woman give any trouble. To her they had given the task of ministering to any needs the Elves had. The child was kept close by her.

Let us speak with Angóre and Faerim; they are the ones closest to you at the moment. We will devise some diversion and then let you know of it. Can you ready yourselves? Near the back of your tent, I think. Wait for our instruction. Rôsgollo motioned for Gaeredhel to come hold the horses, saying he should be ready to ride quickly with them in tow when he was called. He was going forward to find their other two companions and give them word of what he had learned. Once a plan was in place he would let everyone know of it . . .

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In the end, the three decided a simple diversion would be the best. Angóre was left to keep watch on the prisoners’ tent. Faerim and Rôsgollo circled around to the opposite side of the camp, staying low and out of sight as they gave the near perimeter a wide berth. Dried, fallen limbs were hastily gathered into a pile about a tall evergreen tree with low growing branches; while among the gathered limbs were stashed a great number of pitchy cones. Retreating a distance away, Rôsgollo let Angóre know what they had done and told the Elves within the tent to gather now at the back of it and await his signal. Fixing a large pitchy cone to an arrow with strips from his tunic, he lit it, and sent it flying toward the mass of gathered limbs. The piling caught fire, the flames flashing quickly from one pitchy cone to another, until the mass was ablaze.

Faerim and Rôsgollo sped quickly away from the blaze which now whooshed up behind them, catching onto the cones growing in clusters among the living branches. The flames licked hungrily upward seeking to consume the tree. The Orcs caught sight of the blaze and scrambled in disarray to stop the spread of the flames from the tree over the dried grasses toward their camp.

Now! called Rôsgollo. And Erenor cut the rough cloth of the tent, as Bethiril and Ereglin handed out the woman and the child. Gaeredhel had mounted his horse and now moved forward with the others in tow. Ereglin exited from the tent next, followed by Bethiril. Erenor stood guard, her knife in her hand. And well she did as one of the Orc guards was sent in to check in on the prisoners during the melee. She dispatched him before he could raise the alarm, then left the tent herself.

Rôsgollo and Faerim made it to where the others were gathered, now mounted on horse. It would not be long before the Orcs would suspect that this suspect blaze had something to do with their hostages. And in fact, they had barely mounted when from a short distance away, an Orc voice rang out, calling his fellows to give chase . . . the prisoners had escaped!

The Elves and Faerim rode hard away from the Orcs . . . their only thought now to reach the safety of the Dunedain encampment . . .