[Ealasaide]

Benia

They made camp after nightfall against the west face of Bree Hill, about a half of a mile north of the North Gate into Bree. Looking around, Benia knew the spot well. Her father's family had used the spot for years. Located in a crevice in the side of the hill, the campsite was protected on the east and south by Bree Hill. On the north and west, an overgrown wall of bushes and long-thorn brambles concealed it from the view of casual passers-by. A well-used fire circle occupied the north end of the clearing, while a hollow against the side of the hill offered shelter for the horses. She watched from the back of the bay mare as the bounty hunter dismounted and led the horses through the hidden entrance into the clearing.

Once the horses had been secured in the rear of the campsite, Kaldir lifted Gilly from the back of the gray horse and set her safely on the ground. Benia thought she saw Gilly's shoulders relax visibly as soon as her feet touched the earth. Then Kaldir turned his attention to Benia. Holding the horse by the halter to keep her steady, he held his free hand out to Benia to help her dismount. Benia glanced down first at the shackles on her wrists, then at his outstretched hand. Then she dismounted without his help, landing rather heavily on her injured foot. She bit back a gasp of pain and turned her face away so that Kaldir would not see how badly her defiance had hurt her.

Gilly, having heard Benia's sharp intake of breath, stepped up and grasped Benia's hand. "You can lean on me," she whispered as Kaldir withdrew his proffered hand. Benia nodded and gave her friend's hand a squeeze.

The two of them stood side by side near the horses and watched as Kaldir went about the business of setting up camp. Noticing that he paid them scarcely any mind, Benia relaxed slightly and took the opportunity to look around. She couldn't see much in the darkness, but remembered that there was an old log around somewhere about the size and shape of a small bench. She needed to sit down. Pulling Gilly with her, she hobbled in the direction in which she thought she would find it, and, after only a few steps, she saw its dull shape rise out of the gloom. Sighing, she sat down heavily. Stomach rumbling loudly, Gilly plopped down beside her. They both glanced nervously at the bounty hunter, who was occupied at the moment with building a small fire in the fire circle.

"You don't suppose he will let us eat anything, do you?" asked Gilly under her breath.

Benia shrugged. "I hope so," she whispered back. "I'm famished."

"Where do you suppose he's taking us?"

"I imagine he's taking me to Harad," answered Benia softly, a deep sadness creeping into her voice. For a moment, her mind travelled back to the blowing sands of the desert, its harshness and its beauty. She not been there in a few years. Ironically, she had been just preparing to return there on business of her own when the bounty hunter had intervened. Now, she would still be making the journey south, but not to bring aid to her mother's people. Now, she would be going there to die.

“There are still those who would pay well for the capture of one of my tribe," she continued, a faraway look in her eyes. She remembered the tales her mother had told her as a child so clearly that at times she almost felt that she had been there. The stories of her tribal history were not merely history lessons. They were memories, passed down in her blood from mother to daughter.

Sitting there in the flickering light of the new campfire, Benia could almost hear the sound of her mother's voice. In the years before you were born, her mother's voice said in its soft desert dialect. Sauron sent emissaries to recruit new followers to his standard. Our tribe and one other refused. We fought the Eye. Our chieftain and many others were slain. After that, our new chieftain, Ahmad, openly defied the forces of the Eye. He rode against them at every opportunity until finally our numbers had so dwindled that we were forced into hiding in order to survive.”

Remembering, Benia smiled sadly. She had met her chieftain on only a few occasions. He was a tough, battle-scarred man, approaching sixty now, but wise and canny as an old lion. Now she feared she would never see him again. Or his kind wife.

She looked at Gilly, then nodded in the direction of the bounty hunter. “I imagine this man is taking me back to those who would have all of my tribe destroyed. Sauron may be gone, but this man is still doing his work for him," she finished bitterly.

"But what he plans to do with you," she added after a moment. "I seriously can’t imagine.”

Gilly nodded philosophically and pressed one hand to her midsection in a vain attempt to stifle the loud growling of her empty stomach. “I guess I will find out soon enough,” she sighed. “If I don’t starve to death first.”

Benia nodded. “Perhaps he means to let you off in Bree,” she suggested hopefully. “We are barely a half mile north of the north gate.” She stopped abruptly as Kaldir approached them from across the clearing. Behind him a pot already bubbled on the fire, giving forth a pleasant herbal smell. This time, rather than offering Benia his hand, he merely bent over and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her over to the fire where he set her down rather unceremoniously on a blanket. Not knowing what else to do, Gilly trailed behind them. Made bold by her hunger, Gilly leaned over to look into the pot and was most disappointed to see only a few long leaves simmering in water.

“Kingsfoil,” she murmured, in spite of herself. Weeds. The man really was out of his mind.

“Athelas leaves,” countered Kaldir gruffly. “Give me your foot.” The last sentence was addressed to Benia, who, for lack of any alternatives, cautiously extended her foot. With surprisingly gentle hands, the bounty hunter pulled Benia’s boot off and unwound the bindings the elves had put on two days earlier. The leg was still badly swollen around the area of her ankle bone, but the bruises had taken on a yellowish tint, which meant that healing had begun. Benia studied his scarred face as Kaldir removed the pot from the fire and bathed her ankle in the warm, pleasant-smelling water. The pain began to subside almost instantly.

Kaldir glanced up at Gilly, who still stood over him, watching closely as he dressed Benia's ankle. “Well, make yourself useful,” he said curtly. “There’s bread, cheese, and some other things on the pack pony. Bring enough for the three of us.”

“Watch out for the gray horse,” he added as Gilly began to move away. “He kicks.”

“And bites,” muttered Gilly, remembering well the bite the bounty hunter’s gray horse had delivered to her backside not even two days ago. She was sure the teeth marks were still there in a circle of little black bruises. She gave the gray horse a wide berth.

As Gilly moved away and Kaldir began to put the bindings back on Benia’s ankle, Benia decided to try pleading again for Gilly’s freedom. After all, if the bounty hunter cared enough about Gilly's well-being to warn her about the horse, perhaps he could be convinced to show the hobbit some larger form of mercy. At least, she had to try. She leaned forward and caught the bounty hunter’s hand between her own shackled, tattooed hands.

“Leave her here in Bree,” she whispered so that Gilly wouldn’t hear. “Please. I won’t give you any more trouble. I promise. Just let her go.”

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

Kaldir

For a fleeting instant, Kaldir glanced down at their intertwined hands, then disengaged himself from her grip. If he did as Benia asked and released Gilly she would no sooner be out of his sight than she would be putting together a rescue team and taking off into the wilds after him. He had always thought of Mrs. Banks as the determined type and, now that she had proven him right, she would have to live with the consequences. She would have to come along for awhile, anyway, at least until he could find a suitable place to leave her where she would not cause him any more trouble, but not come to any harm either. After all, her only sin had been loyalty. He stood and moved away from Benia without even bothering to answer her, which he could see by her face was answer enough. Her expression which had been so open and hopeful a moment before closed like a flower under a cold wind. Her hands dropped limply into her lap.

Turning away from her, Kaldir looked over toward Mrs. Banks, who seemed to be having an argument with the pack pony. Her arms loaded with bread, cheese, and apples, she was trying to refasten the drawstring of the pack, while at the same time trying to fend off the pony’s attempts to bend his long neck around and steal an apple. Leaving her to it, he walked back to the opening in the bramble hedge that led out of the hidden campsite into the open. He needed to go into Bree. He had contacts there that the Rangers wouldn’t have, the kind of men who would know if someone like Naiore was about. They were the kind of men who stole horses and trafficked in poisons, who knew better than to cross him, but whose loyalties lay only to themselves and their own greed... the kind who would be easy prey to a manipulative creature like Naiore. But he would have to go alone. Turning again toward the campfire, he saw that Mrs. Banks had finished her tussle with the pack pony and was back at the fire with Benia, her haul of food laid out on the blanket beside her.

“Eat,” he said, gesturing to the food. “I have to leave for awhile.” Taking a coil of rope from the back of his belt, he bound Gilly tightly around the ankles. Benia, he bound around her legs, just below the knees, sparing her the additional pressure against her injured ankle. He needed her mobile as soon as possible. “But I won’t be far,” he added. giving each of them a stern look. “If I have to waste my time chasing you again, things will go ill for you. I’ve been patient so far, but no more.”

Once both women had nodded their acquiescence, he turned and walked away from the campsite. It would be quicker to go by horseback, but he did not intend to enter Bree by the gate.

[ September 26, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaide ]