Resettling the Lost Kingdom

[The X Phial]

The sunrise stung Borgand's eyes, as he helped to count the dead. Twenty three guards, seven civilians, and Calumdril, all dead. There were no women and children among the fallen, but many of the guards had been little more than boys. He pushed down his anger once again. It wouldn't do to be seen shaking his fist...his good fist...at the sky. The time for revenge would come, and soon, but for now, he had to attend to the dead.

Heart aching, he spoke to his personal guard. "Have those who are strong enough begin working on graves immediately. They are to have full cairns. These men all fought and died for us and we owe them the honor of a decent resting place."

Borgand wanted to distinguish Calumdril some way. The man had been greatly skilled, an invaluable resource, and a personal friend. He knew, however, that to raise one dead man above the rest would breed resentment among the families of the fallen. Inwardly, he resolved simply to stand the traditional soldier's watch over Calumdril's grave himself. His thoughts drifted to Illith and Bregand, sent off toward Bree in the heat of battle. He desperately hoped that none he had sent away were suffering. His reverie was broken by his guard's reply and departure.

Borgand needed sleep but knew it would be a long time before he would be able to rest. He looked down at the bodies again. He knew every face. He would have to visit every family. They deserved to hear the news from him. Before that, though, a decision remained.

Turning, he headed to the growing knot of rangers, looking for Tane. They waved him in the correct direction and Borgand stumbled as he hurried, weakened after the night and caught often in the slicks of blood and mud that dotted the ground. Wooden legs are not suited to urgency, but Birgand pushed himself and managed to find Tane in record time.

He pulled the leader of the Rangers aside.

"Tane, our losses are not fatal, but they cut deep. So many men who died needlessly...." Borgand set his mouth into a grim frown. "Please take your men and hunt down these hillmen. Capture them and bring them here to stand trial for what they have done. I don't want a slaughter, but, justice must be done."

[TheLadyAerowen]

After Alearindu had bandaged Awyrgan, she took time to notice her own wounds. There were the occasional and expected nicks on her arms and a few on her torso, but there was one on her upper left arm that had cut pretty deep. Alearindu also noticed she had a few burns from where she had been too close to the fire.

She knew she had bandages in Mornen’s saddlebags, so she walked towards the corrals and where she had split up with Ethiner. Ethiner… had he found Tane and told him about the attack? Alearindu was picking up her bow and quiver along with Ethiner’s when Sulenar came up to her.

“Tane wishes for all of the Rangers and any settler still left to meet him at the trading post.” Sulenar said. Alearindu nodded, but didn’t feel much like talking. Sulenar left, and Alearindu decided to find out what Tane was planning. She glanced at her wound, and decided she wasn’t bleeding to death, so she would be able to bandage it later.

Alearindu made her way to the trading post, and found Tane there; but no one else had come yet.

“Tane!” She called, and jogged over to him. Tane turned around and smiled; most probably at the relief that she was still among the living.

His smile faded as he noticed the wound on her arm. “Alearindu…your arm. Why isn’t it bandaged? It still hasn’t even stopped bleeding.”

“I’m fine Tane.” She brushed away his hand, and attempted to change the topic. “Why do you need all of us here? What are you planning?”

Tane shook his head. He should have expected the small show of stubbornness. “Alearindu, come.” He took the wrist of her good arm, and led her into the trading post tent.

Tane located cloth and bandages, and then walked back over to where he had left her. He pointed to the pouch of water she had, and smirked as Alearindu rolled her eyes. However, she didn’t argue, and handed him the water. Tane poured a few drops onto one of the cloths, and dabbed at the dried blood around her wound.

Alearindu winced as he brushed over the opening of the wound, but Tane didn’t notice. “You know. You wouldn’t be doing this if I were, for instance, Sulenar…” Alearindu commented. “And you know very well that I am capable of cleansing and bandaging my own wounds.”

Tane placed the cloth over the wound and applied a small amount of pressure. He looked at Alearindu for a moment, and then smiled. “Sulenar isn’t as easy on the eyes. Plus, he would have taken care of his own wounds, as you obviously have not. And then again, maybe I just wanted to.” Alearindu narrowed her eyes slightly, and was going to comment about how she was on her way to get her own bandages when she decided to come see him, but she couldn’t help but smile as well as she saw the jesting in Tane’s eyes.

Just then, Kaben walked through the opening of the tent. Alearindu made a move to somewhat hide the bandages, but Tane held her in place. Kaben was obviously affected by the battles; he still seemed nervous and on edge, but he merely glanced at the bandages and smiled. Tane pulled out a few coins, and handed them to Kaben, but Kaben pushed them away. “Don’t worry about that. Just go ahead and use however much you need. You Rangers helped us, so I’m just returning a small portion of our thanks. Even though, I believe this battle is far from over…” And with that, he bowed slightly and exited the tent.

Alearindu went to follow Kaben out, but Tane grasped her good wrist again and shook his head. “Be patient. At least let me wrap the wound.” Alearindu sighed, but gave in. Tane placed a clean cloth over the wound, wrapped a bandage a few times around her arm, and then tied it. “There. See? Now was that so hard?”

Alearindu smirked. “Thank you, Tane.”

Tane smiled again. “Anytime.”

[Belin]

Those who would stack up the bodies side by side and count them would say that the losses of the settlement were greater than the Hillmen’s. This idea was not much comfort to Wolf, who knew that each man who was killed was a heavy loss to the Hillmen, who had always been few. There were few advantages in attacking their enemies this way. Central to the plan had been the hope of frightening these newcomers off with a show of greater force than they were actually able to muster. They had no warriors who had not been present, and any damage the southerners had done to the attackers was damage done to the Hillmen as a whole. It was too much. Wolf had learned much during the battle; he knew the settlers in a way he had not known them before. He had seen their grimaces as they drove his men out of their strange new buildings and the vehemence with which they had hacked away at anyone who came near them. He had drawn his conclusions about them.

They were a people who lived by war. Unlike the Hillmen, who used raids and hunts to get what they needed and were willing to spend the rest of the time quietly minding their own business, these intruders had a regularity about they way they killed people that suggested serious training and considerable practice. Wolf vaguely remembered stories he had been told in his youth, about a king who had helped them to defeat the southerners once and keep this land for themselves. The Hillmen must have been then as their enemies were now, practiced, grim killers whose lives consisted of little else.

But Wolf’s ancestors had had a reason for becoming killers. It had been the grim necessity of those who would defend the land that by rights was their own. He couldn’t fathom what had driven the southerners to become killers, but he imagined it as some event long past from which they had never truly recovered. They were still the killers they no longer needed to be, seeking out places to carry on their wars, and truly he could think of no other reason that they would want this land, which was not their homeland, after all. And that was the other thing that he had learned; they did want it, badly enough to battle past fear and resistance and the anger that faced them…. badly enough that they would not simply flee. He had seen it.

On the other hand, so did they. Bear was badly injured again, and Wolf thought, this time without a trace of irritation, that it was really Bear’s own fault, that he was the most reckless kind of warrior who would endanger himself and do whatever was needed. Certainly they could cure him again.

Certainly they could make a show of their own strength and determination before they were annihilated. Wolf would expect nothing less of his people.

They did seem exhilarated by their victory in this battle. Those who at some point in the battle had been near Bear were a bit more serious, gossiping quietly about their own theories of what had become of him, how Oak claimed to have seen him lying in a building, wounded by the blade of a frenzied southerner, and had found the brothers Fox and Mink to help carry him out, how Oak had been killed beating settlers away from that spot only to find that he had vanished. One young warrior whom a doting mother had optimistically named Star was spinning a tale for the others about how the pain of Bear's wound had come back to him in the battle and how he had helped him along, and much lighter Bear had become at that moment, but none of the others seemed to believe him. Wolf certainly didn't. For such a large man to simply disappear was strange, they all agreed, but none of them had any news of him for long after the fire was set.

Others of the Hillmen, many of them young, lacked even this solemnity. Some were truly impressed with their newfound prowess at war and insisted on recounting, at length, all their exploits to companions who wanted nothing better than a chance to tell their own. Others were all for mimicking the settlers’ errors. “It’s a pity we didn’t pick up some of that wine!” cried an enthusiastic man who, fortunately, Wolf could not identify in the darkness. “I hear it mixes well with what we picked up from those travelers last month!” Wolf snarled something thoroughly discouraging in his direction and there was no more talk of wine, but the voices of his men were neither quiet nor serious on the way back to the village. Wolf did not ask them to be either, not yet.

He also wondered, not for the first time, what had become of Fletch. Certainly he should have returned by now. Wolf was of two minds about the help of the other village. His new certainty that even another such battle would be insufficient to drive out the southerners made him hesitate to ask others to give up their whole village to the same fate as his own. But perhaps if Rook were to join them, others would too. In any case, he would have liked to have heard what Rook had said. Perhaps Fletch was on his way, or perhaps he had been delayed somewhere… Wolf moved to the edges of the group, searching for Knife, who he found in the midst of a detailed description of the inside of the town hall to the men who had killed the guards.

“I need to take care of something,” he said quietly. Knife raised an eyebrow, but Wolf ignored it. “I should be back early in the day, but I want to see if I can learn something. Please don’t let anything disastrous happen. And make sure everyone gets cured, whether they think they want it or not. The hard part of this is still ahead of us. I doubt that they will be able to attack us today, but it is coming. Keep that in mind.”

Knife stared at him. “And you want to leave?…”

“There’s something I need to know. I won’t be gone long. Will you do what I ask?”

With a long, pale glance over at the place on the horizon from where they had come, the village that had killed so many and the place where the earth had apparently devoured their brother, Knife nodded slowly. “Until noon, I will. Come back by then.”

“Yes.”

He had no plans to go farther than the stones where lightning had struck, a walk of one or two hours. Perhaps he would meet Fletch coming home from his journey, or perhaps he would find his bones. If they had allies, they would need them soon.

[Belin]

Bear pulled himself from the water and lay panting on the large, smooth, wet stones. His warm, red blood mingled with the muddied water and surged over the rocks, creating an ironically warm environment for the great man to lie in. His sodden wool tunic hung lankly to his prone form and he shivered as a wind shot over his bulk. Memories of the last few ill-fated hours shot through his weary mind. Things had appeared to go well for the hillmen, their initial attack seemed to be a complete surprise, and for a while the southerners were on the back foot.

The soft ground seems to echo as his feet pound into it. Through the smoke-haze around him he can feel the thundering voices of men, the screams of women and the crackle of flame; his senses seem inflamed and unruly. Like a poisoned beast he feels himself crash into man after man, filling the sodden night with showers of red. Screams resonate around his existence.

With a gasping intake of air, Bear regained consciousness.

Things had started to turn as the fight spilled out into the extents of the settlement and Bear found himself almost alone with only a few hillmen around him. Grasping a stone firmly in his palm, he struggled to stay conscious. Grasping for a thought to hold on to, his mind raced through his recent past. A face… long and unfamiliar…filling with sudden recognition…a sudden anger, burning at his chest… a tempest unleashed…

Bear had espied his adversary and immediately recognized him as his attacker. Further, ice-cold wrath had piled and squeezed itself into his existence and he had thrown himself further into the fray; further towards his foe. Then, in the midst of his glory, covered in the death of his foes, he found himself alone; dead hillmen lay by him, their blood flowing into and mingling with that of their dead enemies. An almost complete ring of southerners had been made about him, many of whom he recognized. The man he had encountered only days before stood there before him, panting and hunched in his weariness. Slowly the men advance upon Bear. The whirlwind of steel that ensued smote both helm and limb and soon the ring was broken. A fog had fallen upon his eyes and he only saw dim shapes.

Stumbling like a blind man, he had hacked his way through a gap in is opponents and out onto a patch of clear ground. Cold suddenly rushed up his legs and looking down, he realised he was knee-deep in the water of the lake. His foes still beat down upon him, their blood filling the cool water. Bear tired, he would not be able to continue to fight off so many attackers. Using a slight break in the melee, he dove into the frost-cold, murky water. Bear's numb fingers fumbled with the straps of his belt... with the fabric of his tunic...with the weight of his hauberk. Like fire in the scrub, aching pain rushed through Bear's lungs. Moonlight flickered through the brown water, turning the metal in his hands to gold. Relief seethed though his veins, like a cool breeze on a hot day, like drought-breaking rain, like sea crashing into a desert - the encumbering metal vest was off. Bear watched it as it fell heavily to the bottom. Clutching his axe firmly in his left hand, Bear pushed powerfully off into the inviting darkness of the water ahead.

So it was that he came to be lying unconscious on the bank of lake Evendim. Utterly exhausted, wounded and steaming, Bear clambered to his feet and strode off. Water dripped off his bulky form as it meandered towards the place he called home.

[Kryssal]

It was early in the evening when the hillmen had attacked, but now, slightly past mid of night, the fire of the town hall was finally starting to smolder to embers. It was still too hot to get close, but at least the flames had left, making any danger of it spreading very unlikely.

Tane could still see the hall's glow from the open flap of the trading post tent. Rubbing his temples, he went over his plan one more time before stepping out and addressing the gathered Rangers and settlers.

Raising his hand, he got their attention and a hush fell over the small crowd.

"We're going to the hillmen's village at dawn," several burst of shouting erupted from the crowd and Tane had to raise his hand again to try and quiet down the men eager for battle. "Not all of us are going," ignoring a few protestations, he pushed on. "The town still needs to be on guard in case the hillmen decide to strike again. We lost many loved ones tonight...too many, and I'm not going to chance another slaughter by leaving the settlement open. Borgand is in charge of the settlement as always, so if told to guard the settlement, report to him."

Tane turned and called Hothem to him. "Go through these men here and decide which ones are able and fit for the journey and fight. The ones you deem need to stay, tell them to go report to Borgand," Tane glanced at the group that was now talking amungst themselves, each man swearing they'd get retribution from the hillmen. "I don't want anyone coming that is too blood thirsty. Another blood bath isn't going to help any of us."

Hothem nodded and started going through the men, telling each one where to go. Tane turned to the other side of the crowd and started to do the same when Awyrgan stepped in front of the crowd with a determined grimace on his face.

Tane looked Awyrgan up and down and noted several wounds that would make a normal man take to bed recovery. Before Tane could say anything he pronounced, "I'm going and you know it."

Tane nodded slowly. "All right, but if you fall behind, stay there. We don't need to cover for wounded Rangers."

Awyrgan was about to make a sharp reply, but found that it didn't matter regardless. He had gotten what he wanted, and if truth be told, if Tane had ordered him to stay he would have gone anyway. This was one hunt he was not going to miss out on.

Awyrgan nodded and turned to leave when Tane hailed him back. "How's Thoronmir?"

The old Ranger shifted his position, standing up straighter. "'Bout the same as me in all regards."

"Alright," Tane understood that to mean Thoronmir was hurt, but just as stubborn as Awyrgan. "Tell him the same thing I told you."

The rest of the settlers and Rangers went by in a blur until Alearindu came up to Tane with an angry look on her face. "Hothem has informed me that I am not to go to fight the hillmen!"

"Alearindu-"

"No! I am not to stay behind. I'm as good a fighter as any man going!"

"You're also injured!" Tane raised his voice a notch to get Alearindu to stop so he could speak.

Her eyes were angry and hurt, but she waited for him to continue.

"I know you can fight. This isn't special treatment against you. That burn on your shoulder is going to hamper your fighting much worse than any scrape."

Alearindu unclenched her jaw and took a deep breath, gathering her arguement. "The burn is not that bad and the only other real injury I have is just a small cut. I can still ride, can still shoot a bow, and can still swing my sword with force," to demonstrate her mobility she swung her arm up and around, controlling her face so that she wouldn't wince. The burn had tightened her skin, but she knew she could fight.

Tane stared at her eyes, seeing the determination. She seemed just as resolute as Awyrgan and Thoronmir. "Fine, but you're going to be in my group."

Alearindu smiled and gave Tane a quick hug. "I knew you'd come to your senses."

Tane snorted. "I think I left them in the trading post."

~*~

All the men that were going to go to the settlement were gathering their weapons and horses when Tane went to see Borgand. The leader of the settlers was barking out orders and moving around as if he were stomping out hillmen with each footstep. When he saw Tane he waved those around him away so that they could talk privately.

Borgand's eager voice started before Tane had even reached his side. "You're about to leave then?"

Tane nodded slowly. "We've selected about thirty men to go, about half of them are settlers."

Borgand didn't seem to hear him. "Bring them all back and then we'll see.... Tane! Bring them all back."

Tane didn't like the sound and shift of Borgand. The man needed some rest, at least, but even then the Ranger didn't think it would get rid of that gleam in the Leaders eye.

"I wil...."

Borgand smiled disarmingly and clapped Tane on the shoulder. "Good....good..."

~*~

Tane had been disturbed by Borgand's behavior, but now he needed to address the fighters one last time before they started out for the hillmen. There were around forty men going, almost half of them settlers. Even though the Rangers had lost several men to the hillmen, they made up for it with all those in from the camp.

Hothem came up to Tane. "They've been split like you've asked, and we're all ready to go."

"Good." Tane mounted Skit and faced the two groups, once again raising his arm to get attention. "Hothem and I will be leading the two groups. Hothem's will be going in first, attacking head on while my group will spread out and try to cover as much perimeter as we can. Let me make it perfectly clear, this is not a retrubution blood bath! You are to kill only if the hillman will not stop fighting and you cannot disarm him. Get the warriors first. Bring them back to the perimeter where I will have several men there to hold them. When the fighting slows down, help those guarding so that the hillmen have no chance to overtake our men. Once the warriors are captured, gather the women and children. They are not to be harmed! We'll move them en masse back to the settlement where they can be held accountable for their actions. Let's go."

Tane swung around and started out, Hothem still at his side.

"Tane," Hothem looked back at the men who were still turning around to start out. "You told me you were wary of Borgand and his wish to bring them all back."

"I still am, but if I leave the women and children I won't be able to protect them."

"And what are we to do with them once Borgand is done with the men?"

Tane looked sharply at Hothem. "I'm not bringing them to the settlement just to be killed. There has to be some solution.... Let's focus on the upcoming battle for right now."

Hothem nodded and they continued in silence.

~*~

It was nearing dawn when the group was close enough to the hillmen's village to split into the two groups again. Hothem's group had left their horses and were proceeding on foot, running lightly across the shadowed terrain. Tane made sharp movements with his hands as Hothem was almost to the village and his group started galloping out to cover the perimeter. Kicking Skit into action Tane went straight forward. He was going to cover their entrance, in case any hillmen decided to get his men from behind.

Soon shouts were coming from the village and all the men, hillmen, settler and Ranger became a giant swarm in Tane's eyes.

[Carrûn]

Awyrgan had positioned himself with Hothem's group. He listened with a dull sort of indifference to the chatter surrounding him as the men made ready to leave. Many of the settlers voice held a shrill tone, angry and eager for revenge. He glanced around at the other rangers, most of whom were sitting still, waiting; veterans with nought more but a look of grim determination on their face. Even the youngest of them seemed old.



A quiet stirring among the men caused them to fall silent. Tane had ridden up and was addressing the group. "Hothem and I will be leading the two groups. Hothem's will be going in first, attacking head on while my group will spread out and try to cover as much perimeter as we can. Let me make it perfectly clear, this is not a retrubution blood bath! You are to kill only if the hillman will not stop fighting and you cannot disarm him. Get the warriors first. Bring them back to the perimeter where I will have several men there to hold them. When the fighting slows down, help those guarding so that the hillmen have no chance to overtake our men. Once the warriors are captured, gather the women and children. They are not to be harmed! We'll move them en masse back to the settlement where they can be held accountable for their actions. Let's go."



A pale moon highlighted the shadows of the forty or so men moving through the wilderness. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled. Awyrgan smiled. The wolves hunt as we do. He mused their leader's instructions over in his head. They were noble, but the weathered man doubted they would work in practice. He deeply hoped he was wrong.



A small ray of light was beginning to break over the skyline as they approached the camp. The groups split into two again, with Hothem's group moving directly towards the camp. Awyrgan closed his eyes briefly, checked that his sword was loose it it's sheath, and notched an arrow to his bow. One of the men stepped on a branch, snapping it and a dog barked. The dam burst and the patrol swarmed forward into the village.

[VanimaEdhel]

Light was about to spill over the Western line of the horizon. Barzûn sat by a fire, smoking his pipe and musing at the miles they had yet to traverse before the break of day. Also, the carvings that had been brought to his attention the previous day kept returning as images in his mind. They were done recently. Who could have done them? Only the Hillmen he heard spoken of lived nearby. Were they trying to copy the old and glorious designs? Barzûn grunted as he stood, shaking off his thoughts. There was no way he would put all the pieces of the puzzle back just sitting there. They had to begin the trek back to the settlement if they wanted to reach the camp before midday so they could get back to building.

“Dwarves!” Barzûn grunted, moving amongst the Dwarf bodies, some sitting others reposing. Soon, they all stood awaiting Barzûn’s command.

“The sun will rise soon,” Barzûn said, “I want to get back to the settlement before midday. We have to start now. We still have a few miles to go yet, and getting there before midday would be better.”

With sighs from various members, the Dwarves stood, packing and preparing to leave as quickly as they could. Barzûn oversaw the progress, grunting corrections to the Dwarves’ methods of carrying the stone.

“We cannot stand for any more delay,” Barzûn said, “So be careful with those wagons. Alright, Dwarves, let’s move out.”

The train of Dwarves moved along over hills steadily moving back towards the settlement. As he pushed his own wagon, Barzûn pondered the stone carvings more. Say the Hillmen did draw the images: why would they do such a thing? Was there something about the men they envied? Or did they merely admire the designs? Barzûn wondered if the men knew about these carvings. Perhaps the Hillmen wanted to be more like the other men in their designs, valuing the delicate strokes required for such intricate impressions. Barzûn decided that he would ask one of the men about such things. To think that the men expressed worry about the Hillmen! Perhaps they could live in peace after all.

“Oy!” Barzûn said, seeing part of the train falling behind, “Catch up, Dwarves! Come on! We need to make time!”

Barzûn intentionally sped up, moving at about twice his previous speed. The Dwarves grumbled and struggled to keep up. They made good time as the sun began to poke its head out and the dark shadows became fewer. Light began to illuminate Barzûn’s face as he pondered the carvings and their origin.