[Ealasaide]

Kaldir

As Kaldir was dragged away from Benia by the rope around his neck, he could hear her make a soft keening sound in her throat. The sound alone would have broken his heart if he had been in any other situation, but under the current circumstances, it ripped at his soul as well. He knew that he would never see her again, at least not with the same eyes. To an outside observer, it might have seemed odd that he had accepted Naiore's deal so quickly, but Kaldir knew that, evil though she was, her word was as good as a bond. Benia would not be harmed... so long as he held up his end of the bargain.

At a sharp blow from Ferny, Kaldir stumbled and fell, landing heavily on his knees before the Ravenner. It was a posture that he had sworn he would never again occupy. The touch of her fingers against his face felt like the touch of death. Out of an ancient habit, Kaldir averted his face.

“Here we are again,” said Naiore crisply. “We have much to do, my friend, so I will remind you but once. Do not defy me. I no longer have the time for games. Remember... if you resist me, I shall have Barrold cut out your lady’s eyes one by one. Do we have an understanding?”

When Kaldir nodded, she smiled. “Good. Then look at me.” Finally, reluctantly, Kaldir did as he was told. His body stiffened in pain as Naiore forced her way into his psyche. All of the demons that he had sought so long to keep at bay came rushing forth, yet he did nothing to push them away from him or to stop Naiore. The mental walls he had once been able to push up against Naiore’s invading consciousness lay dormant. He let her in, let her do her work unopposed. If he wished to save Benia, he had no choice. He merely endured the pain as Naiore’s sharp mind slashed through his memory and conscience like a scythe through dry grass. In the end, nothing remained of him but his fearsome fighting skills and the intense determination to use them for her defense. A thin trickle of blood ran from his nose. Naiore smiled and stepped back. Kaldir was gone.

Only emptiness remained. Emptiness and death. The husk that was once Kaldir, slumped into his bindings. Inside his head, Naiore continued to speak as outside of him she began to untie his bindings with her own hands. “There are others,” she said. “They are coming. It is your job, my friend, to stop them. Kill them. Do not let them pass. I will keep your lady safe for you while you do your work for me. When you have killed as many of them as you can, make your escape. You will find us in Gladden Fields. Your lady and I will wait for you there. Remember. Kill any you encounter.” He said nothing as her silken voice droned on and on. His mind in tatters, he merely stood there and accepted his weapons back from her hands. The only thoughts he was able to grasp were her face, her voice, and the content of her repeating commands. He must kill them. Kill them all.

“Go now,” said Naiore. Wiping the blood from under his nose, Kaldir nodded and walked away to do as he had been instructed. The farther away he got from Naiore as he moved back in the direction of Imladris, the more he became aware of his surroundings, but it was not with the same awareness that he once had. It was the awareness that he had once thought belonged only to the world of nightmares. Even the faintest sounds rang out at him with intense clarity, every detail of the woods shone as though outlined in black. He wiped again at the blood that ran from his nose. Nothing connected.

Reaching the base of the trail that Naiore had used to get in and out of the vale, Kaldir hesitated, listening. Someone was approaching down the path. Drawing his dagger, he concealed it behind his leg and waited. Before long, an old ranger appeared, moving slowly between the trees, his attention focused on the ground. Tracking. Like the silent hunter that he was, Kaldir waited, his dagger at the ready.

Seeing him at last, the old ranger quickened his step. “There you are!” he exclaimed, a look of relief appearing across his weathered face as he approached the waiting hunter. “I was beginning to think we had lost...” His words trailed off in confusion as Kaldir neither moved nor responded, his face expressionless and cold.

Before the old ranger could say anything further, arm himself, or even fall back a pace, Kaldir seized his opportunity. He stepped forward and with a single fluid motion, sank the blade of his dagger into the unprotected torso of the older man, pushing it in to the hilt and upward between the man’s ribcage to his heart. Feeling the ranger’s hot blood gush over his hand, Kaldir merely twisted the blade. As the old ranger began to go limp and fall, dying, Kaldir let him drop to the ground. Puling the dagger free, he wiped it clean on the shoulder of the man’s cloak.

Then, for a flashing instant, Kaldir hesitated. A fragment of memory raced across his detached mind. This man. Laughing... He knew him. Rauthain?. Equally quickly the moment was gone. Someone else was approaching through the trees. He could hear the soft clop of a horse’s hooves. Stepping over the dying man, Kaldir sheathed his dagger and drew his sword.

**********************************

Naiore

Naiore watched from the center of the camp as Kaldir's tall figure disppeared from view. She felt a combination of triumph and disappointment that she had gained such an easy victory over him in the end, but all mortal men had their weaknesses. Conquering Kaldir had simply been a matter of finding his weakness. Naiore glanced over at the black-haired woman tied to the tree. Once she had found that weakness, the rest had been easy. The pity was that she had not had the time to do a proper job of exploring and corrupting his mind. In her haste, she had been forced to make do with a shallow destruction of him, nothing more. Too bad! What a fearsome weapon he would have made had she been able to turn him completely to her will without destroying him as part of the bargain. It was such a waste.

With Kaldir gone to carry out her bidding against what elves and rangers he could find, Naiore turned her attention toward the more immediate business of her own well-being. It was then that she noticed for the first time the low-pitched keening of the southern woman. Turning to Barrold Ferny, she snapped, "Shut her up."

"Gladly," muttered Ferny. He stepped up to the bound woman and raised a hand to strike her a fierce backhand across the face, when she fell abruptly silent. Ferny chuckled and tickled her under the chin instead. "Smart move, sweet'eart," he said pleasantly. "You an' I are going to get along just fine. Don't start up again or I'll rattle your teeth for real."

With that, Ferny dropped her a slow wink, to which the woman responded with silence and a glare of pure hatred. Ferny cawed with hoarse laughter. He cast a glance over his shoulder to see what Naiore's response had been to his moment of fun, his laughter trailing off as he saw that Naiore had slung her pack on to her shoulders and strapped her curved swords into place.

"Wot!" he exclaimed. "Are we leavin', then?" He nodded in the direction the bounty hunter had gone. "Wot about 'im?"

"He will not be coming back." Naiore smiled coolly. "He will be either killed outright or captured and executed for his sins. We needn't worry ourselves with him any further."

Ferny's jaw dropped open, exposing a mouthful of black teeth. "So's we just leave 'im. 'Is knowing where we are and everything? Wot if 'e gets away? They can follow 'im, right? Right to us."

Naiore's beautiful gray eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Perhaps it would be better to be sure of the bounty hunter's demise. If he survived the contact with the elves and rangers at all, she knew well that he would be wounded and vulnerable and, consequently, of very little further use to her. She nodded. "Then you may stay behind," she answered smoothly. "Kill him yourself. I'll leave you the horse. When you know the job is done, you may rejoin us quickly by horseback."

"Wot about 'er?" demanded Ferny, gesturing to Benia with his thumb.

"She pleases you?"

"She ain't bad."

"Then she comes with me," answered Naiore. "For safe-keeping. When you return, you may have her to do with as you please." Naiore turned and drew her dagger. With a quick, fluid movement, she cut the rope that bound the southern woman to the tree. Her wrists still tied, Benia Nightshade fell away from the tree, careful to keep her distance from Naiore. The elven woman laughed. "Yes, it is wise to fear me," she said, sensing the dread and hatred that now rolled off the woman in waves. With her dagger, Naiore pointed toward a path out of the campsite that would eventually lead into the south. "Now go. Remember I will only be a step behind."

"How will I find you?" called Ferny as the two females began to walk swiftly out of camp, Benia first with Naiore tightly on her heels.

"Make for Gladden Fields."