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Old 02-11-2004, 08:31 AM   #212
Hilde Bracegirdle
Relic of Wandering Days
 
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Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: You'll See Perpetual Change.
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Hilde Bracegirdle has just left Hobbiton.
Rauthain

“Come then and lets us see this thing through,” Rauthain said, tugging on Juta’s bridle. But Avanill did not move, as if he would be an obstacle to the older man.

“Ranger, shall you have the elf’s blood or shall I?” he said coolly, unsheathing his sword as though she might be found at the next turning. It was indeed an interesting question, and Rauthain found himself thinking fleetingly of Kaldir. Perhaps it was right that he should not be the one to find her and risk further harm. Perhaps this was the way for an old man to make his final recompense, though the chance of success seemed increasingly slender.

“Know Avanill,” he said staring in the direction he would go, “that as one of the King’s rangers, I am bound to capture the elf and bring her to face the King’s justice, if at all possible, though my heart speaks differently. For if she were to be mortally wounded I would be far from unhappy, though it would likely be unwise to release such a ruthless feä from its fleshy cage so that it may inhabit this land forever. But for either course, she must first be found,” he added after a moment, looking then deeply into the other’s glittering eyes to see what might be hidden there. “And I reckon that we are not too far behind.”

“Let us not delay anymore then,” the younger man said, “and I will follow your leading, that I may not confuse the trail.”

**********

Slowing, they came near the point where the ground rose again and emerging from under the trees became a grassy slope, running down to the water's edge. The ranger had long since discovered among the heavily trampled ground, the light and delicate step that he had first seen at the Forsaken Inn. And smiled to himself that he should have stumbled across these fresher prints by chance. Straining his ears to listen, so that Avanill might not catch him unaware, he could hear also shouts and the muffled sounds of a skirmish in the distance, steadily rising over the sound of the river. Rauthain stopped and turned to speak to his fellow traveler.

"Why do you stop?" Avanill queried.

"To warn you. Here are the very footprints of Naiore," he said, "and so we may soon need to decide this matter you broached earlier."

"Naiore has been here?" Avanill muttered to himself, his eyes searching the hopeless confusion of prints at his feet. "How long since she has past though this place?" he asked of the ranger.

Rauthain unsheathed his sword and pointing to a spot close to Avanill's boot said, "See, this is where she has walked, some hours ago."

"You are very sure then?"

"I have been following her since before she passed through Bree," the ranger said. "One learns to recognize these small traces after a time. But let us make ourselves useful now and hurry."

Rauthain made his way toward the edge of the trees, being careful to place the horse between himself and Avanill, and keeping his pressing concern for the others to himself. But upon emerging from the wood, signs of struggle were everywhere evident. And they were forced to skirt around an orc who had fallen in their path, an arrow protruding at an odd angle from his neck. Soon finding also footprints of Léspheria, Amandur and Maethor, Rauthain increased his pace through the field until he spied a heap of green and black among the darkened grass, between two fallen orcs.

Hurrying to the spot, so near the water's edge, he scattered the birds gathered there in the morning light, and was overcome by the painful recognition of the sundered body of his friend. His anger welling up inside of him so that must keep moving, he got up immediately and began casting his eyes about, looking for the raven-haired head, and finding instead the slender knives strewn in the grass. Picking them up he laid them with the body.

Disregarding Avanill's steady gaze, he walked in a heavy, nigh haphazard manner, ranging across the grass until he came upon what he sought, and taking the head gently in his hands, he returned to the body, asking Avanill's help. Together the men dragged the stiff form to a little hollow among stunted trees that lay well above the high water mark of the river Bruinen, and lay it there.

Not this one, Rauthain thought, again and again. Not the one for whom he had held such hope! Now he was gone to his doom, and had not to have lived to see better days.

"I have became a caretaker of the dead of late, and death surrounds me," he said with a grim smile to Avanill. "But the wind shall not pass over these bones laid bare. Nor shall the sun see them. I hope that you might excuse me that I might cover them, before we cross the ford. For by the sound of it, I may not be able to accomplish it afterward."

And Avanill climbed upon a grey standing stone and sat watching as Rauthain covered the body, once more building a cairn marking the passage of Naiore through these lands. Choosing the larger stones by the river's edge, the ranger gazed across to the steep and slippery bank at the other side of it, and the dark shapes moving there. An arrow soon landed at his feet. Staring at the black-feathered shaft, he saw a small wooden shuttle bobbing in a pool of still water beside it and picking up the simple tool he wondered at it, quickly slipping the sodden thing with its trail of green in his pocket, before setting off to complete his sad task.

After the body was fully covered, Rauthain signaled to Avanill that he was ready to continue, and the younger man slipped easily off the boulder he had been sitting on. Together they walked to the verge of the water, and viewed the orcs on the other side.

Crossing over to Juta, Rauthain removed the orcish sword from his saddle, choosing to brandish it rather than his own blade, and swinging into the saddle before readying his bow, he addressed Avanill. “I think sir, that today you might have the honor of spilling the Ravennor’s blood, if you are still willing. But go on ahead of me so that I might defend your path with my bow. And do not let fear grow in your heart, for if any other shall approach you, I will ride them down, until such time that I am also too heavily embattled. Go now.” He finished, raising the bow.


Rauthain watched expectantly, to see which way Avanill would turn. If he were to refuse Rauthain could easily drive him forward into the river, but if he were to head for the far bank perhaps with some luck he might draw Naiore out from her hiding place with the ranger’s bait, and her wrath lead to her undoing. It was a slim and hopeless chance, but Rauthain’s own life he now counted for little and she would have little time to ensnare them with her guile, having no doubt resorted to more traditional weapons in the fray. It was as good an opportunity as any, Rauthain thought as he started toward Avanill and the river.
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