12. Danger

(April)

Eyes closed, Legolas lay stretched on the grass in the spring sunshine, letting the laughing conversation of the other novices flow around him.  Their plans were laid and soon Lómilad and Maldor would come and give them permission to start their role in the spring novice exercises, this time as the attacking team. Legolas was letting his mind drift as he inhaled the scents of life returning to the woods and listened to the song of the birds.  By the time they returned, he reminded himself happily, his new stallion would be back in the warriors' stables.

"Where is Pilin?" Annael had asked the first time that the novices had been sent to clean the stables after the equinox feast.

"He is in my adar's forest pasture," Legolas had answered briefly.

"Why?" puzzled Isendir, who was right behind them.

"Because my adar sent him there," Legolas had said, tightlipped.

Enlightenment had dawned on Annael's face and Isendir has asked no more, so Legolas assumed the he, too, had reached some understanding of what Legolas meant. Either that, or he was intimidated by the mention of Thranduil.  His friends never pressed him on the topic of his father; they were nervous enough around Ithilden, well aware of the considerable control he had over their lives.

Today, Legolas intended to put his problems behind him and concentrate on serving his team well and enjoying the game.  He pulled his thoughts back to the present.  To his left, Annael was talking to Nálas.  Legolas had lost the thread of their conversation, but suddenly he heard Nálas laugh.  "You are dreaming if you think that she would ever look at you," he said in a teasing voice.

Legolas's eyes flew open, and he glanced at them, but Annael was making a laughing rejoinder. "Then I must have been dreaming steadily," he said.  "And in these dreams, I do not recall her ever looking at you at all."  Nálas snorted good-naturedly, and Legolas turned quickly away toward Tynd's voice on his right.

"I think that Calorfil had his eye on that little ravine southeast of here," Tynd was saying to Riolith, who was once again serving as his lieutenant, preparatory to captaining one of the groups himself next year when Tynd and Calorfil would have come of age and joined the ranks of the warriors.

"The top of one of those low cliffs would not be a bad spot for them," Riolith acknowledged.  "They could try to draw us down the valley or use the drop off to defend their backs. And it is right at the edge of the allowable territory, so it would take us a while to get to them.  How sure are you that that is where Calorfil is headed?"

Tynd grimaced.  "Not very," he admitted. "He could even have been deliberately trying to mislead me.  But think about it.  Let us watch their trail today.  If it looks as if that is where they are headed, we may be able to save ourselves some time by sending scouts directly to the ravine to see if they are there."

Legolas was interested in this.  "Do you mean the ravine with the stream in it?" he asked. 

"Yes," said Tynd.  "Calorfil and Amóng went camping there last winter. Or at least they said they did.  I think they may have been scouting it out as a site to defend."

"My adar once showed me a hidden trail that goes up one of the sides of that ravine," Legolas said.  "You cannot see it from the top because of the overhang."

Tynd and Riolith both looked at him.  "That could be useful," said Riolith.  "Could you find it?"

"I think so," Legolas answered.  Before they had a chance to pursue the matter further, Lómilad and Maldor emerged from the masters' hut.

"Here they come," Tynd said, and the group rose to its feet as the two masters approached.

"Is your group ready, Tynd?" Lómilad asked briskly.

"We are," Tynd replied.

"Then let us go," said the novice master.  "We will lead you for the first league, so you can pick up their trail. Then you are on your own."

"Get your gear," Tynd ordered his group.  "Sarar, you serve as rear guard."  They gathered up bows, packs, and armor and followed the masters into the woods.

To Legolas, their progress that day seemed slow. They tracked the defending team on the ground only to repeatedly lose them as they evidently took to the trees.  At that point, they would spread out and advance, searching for where the defenders came to ground again. By the end of the day, they still had seen no sign of their opponents other than the small marks they had left in the forest trail as they passed. They were, however, definitely heading southeast, and Legolas privately thought that the ravine Tynd had been talking about was as good a site as any in the direction they were going.

***

Ithilden awoke in the early dawn hours with a sense that something was wrong.  He reached for the dagger on the bedside table and then suddenly realized that what he had noticed was that Alfirin was not breathing quietly beside him in sleep.  Instead she was sitting propped up by pillows against the head of their bed, rubbing her hands across the swell of her pregnancy, and panting slightly.

"What is wrong?" he demanded, sitting up, instantly alarmed.

She turned to him with luminous dark eyes that looked huge in the pale oval of her face. She smiled tentatively. "I think, perhaps, the baby is coming," she said, and then drew in her breath sharply again.

Because a year had passed since they conceived their son, they had known that the birth was likely to be today, and Ithilden had rehearsed this moment in his mind for months now.  He was out of the bed, through their sitting room, and out into the hallway immediately.  "You," he called to the sleepy looking guard at the end of the hall, and it was a measure of his disorientation that he could not, for the moment, remember the guard's name.  "Go immediately to fetch my mother-in-law and the midwife."  He had time to see the guard's face light up with excitement before he ducked back into his apartments again.  The arrival of Thranduil's first grandchild had been the subject of great interest to many of the king's people, although Eilian had told him that the household guards were most interested because they had all staked wagers on the hour when the baby would arrive.

He returned to the bedroom to find his wife on her feet and pacing, with a shawl thrown over her shoulders.  "Should you be out of bed?" he asked anxiously.

"Do not fuss, my love," she said.  "I feel better this way."  Then she stopped, gasping, with her arms wrapped around her abdomen.  He moved forward to put a supporting arm around her shoulders, smothering the impulse to let loose with all the Dwarvish curse words in the considerable vocabulary he had built up in his centuries as a warrior.

Deliberately he calmed himself, for he would be of no use to Alfirin if he were not in control of his own emotions.  "Lean on me, love," he murmured gently, with his arm still around her.  "Let me help you."  She laid her head back on his shoulder and he could feel his mind and body coming into harmony with hers.  When the next contraction came, he let his own strength flow toward her.  And then both of them turned their minds toward the baby and began to sing soft songs meant to soothe the frightened little one.

***

As the novices were preparing to break camp, Legolas was packing up his gear, when he heard Tynd called his name.  He walked over to where Tynd, Riolith, and Nálas had been conferring.  “We are going to send you and Nálas on ahead as scouts,” Tynd said without preamble, “to see if the defending team is at the ravine.  Do you think that you can find the trail you were telling us of yesterday?”

Legolas nodded eagerly.  “I am sure I can.”

“Do not let them see you,” Riolith admonished, unnecessarily in Legolas’s opinion.  He was plainly nervous about putting their fate in the hands of the inexperienced Legolas.  Legolas nodded again.

“We will continue on as we have been doing,” Tynd told both him and Nálas. “You should be able to find us if you keep track of your own course and the one we are probably on.  Use the bird signals we agreed on.  And remember that the rules say you need to be back before nightfall, although I would hope you would be back long before then.  If your information comes too late, it does not save us any time.”

“We will be back as soon as we can,” Nálas assured him.

The two older novices looked at one another. “Do we have to ask Lómilad?” Riolith asked.

Tynd shook his head. “As long as we stay inside the boundaries, it should be all right, but I think he would be happiest if we informed him anyway.  Wait until I tell you to go, you two.  And in the meantime, distribute most of your gear among the others.  Help them, Riolith.”

Tynd went off to confer with Lómilad and Maldor, who were sitting to one side, chatting with one another as they watched the novices breaking camp, and Riolith organized the dispersal of Legolas’s and Nálas's gear, so that they could move more quickly and quietly while scouting.  Annael rolled his eyes in dismay as he accepted Legolas’s bulky leather armor.  “I expect payback for this, Legolas,” he said, tying his friend’s armor onto his pack next to his own.

Legolas grinned.  “I will carry your gear the next time we do survival training,” he said. Annael laughed.  The last time they had practiced survival training, they had all been left in the woods with only the clothes on their backs.

Tynd approached.  “You two can go now.  Just be sure to stay inside the boundaries for the exercise.  You are sure know where they are, right?”  Legolas and Nálas nodded.  “Good,” said Tynd, smiling at them.  “Go to it.”  Legolas smiled back at him and then leapt forward into the trees, with only his bow on his back, and followed Nálas in the direction of the ravine.

***

Eilian strode into the Home Guard's headquarters, flushed with excitement.  His first nephew was finally about to make his appearance, and while Eilian found that an event to rejoice over all by itself, he also could not help thinking that the time was coming soon when he could again press Ithilden for his release back to the Southern Patrol.  He found several of his warriors gathered around a small table studying a chart that he knew recorded all of their bets on the baby's birth.

"Good morning," he said, raising his eyebrows at them.  "I have no objection to the wagering, except, of course, for the fact that I lost all chance of winning at midnight when the time I guessed for the birth passed. But surely you all have something better to do?"

"Yes, Captain," they agreed good-naturedly and went on out to their various duties, leaving only Siondel behind.

"Do you know that you look like your adar when you raise your eyebrows like that?" Siondel inquired.

Eilian laughed.  "I am not sure whether Adar or I should be more horrified to know that," he responded.  He moved toward the table, where a small pile of reports lay. "Did anything interesting happen over night?" he asked.

"No," Siondel shook his head and was just starting to summarize the reports when a guard stuck his head through the door.

"Captain," he said, "the Man from Esgaroth is back, along with two of his warriors."

Eilian frowned. "Beam?" he asked and the guard nodded.  "Send him in," Eilian ordered, and the guard disappeared to be replaced in the doorway a moment later by Beam and two soldiers whom Eilian did not know.  Eilian advanced and clasped hands with the Man.

"I fear I have bad news," Beam began at once.  "I came to you because I know you, but I think this news needs to be shared with your father and brother."

Eilian blinked at his abruptness but judged that it spoke of the urgency of Beam's message.  "We will go to my adar at once," he said. "Your men may wait here if you like." Beam nodded and the two of them walked rapidly to the palace, where Thranduil was still in his office, delayed in leaving for the Great Hall by the furor over Alfirin going into labor.  Excitement was plainly written across his face when he looked up from his desk at the entry of Eilian and Beam, but he damped it down when he saw that his son brought a visitor from Esgaroth.

"What word from Esgaroth?" he asked after polite greetings had been exchanged and Eilian and Beam had been seated.

"My lord," said Beam, "since this matter concerns our mutual defense, perhaps your older son would wish to be present."

Thranduil ignored the suggestion. "Ithilden is not available," he said. "Go on with whatever you have to say."

Beam drew a deep breath.  "Since I was last here," he said, "the Easterling who visited us before has been to Esgaroth several times and has brought two others with him.  They have spoken to the town trade council and repeated what it is they desire.  As I told you before, they want the right to use the port and the lake. They said that they could increase our trade.  They were very polite and, I fear, persuasive.  They asked, for instance, that we not judge them all by the bad actions of some among them. 'We are not all evil,' they told the council and I believe there were some among the council members who might have been fooled and others who were only afraid."

"Are you telling me that your council voted to give these Men what they asked for?" Thranduil interrupted sharply, leaning forward.

"No, my lord," Beam hastily assured him, "but it was a near thing.  The vote was taken only three days ago, and acceding to the Easterling's demands was only narrowly defeated."

Thranduil sat back in his chair.  "Men can be fools some times," he said, causing Eilian to flinch slightly at the insult.

Beam looked grim. "Be that as it may," he said steadily, "it is something else I come to tell you.  The Easterling and his companions were angry at the vote and stalked out of the town hall and, indeed, out of the town.  I feared they might be angry enough to do damage so I had them followed. They rode away from the town and then disappeared into the woods – your woods. We did not follow them there, of course, for you had asked us not to, but I thought you would want to know."

Eilian's mouth fell open.  What in Arda was the Border Patrol doing?  Even as he thought that, he knew the question was unfair, for the Border Patrol had miles and miles of territory to cover. It was not surprising that no patrol was in the exact spot where the Easterlings had entered the forest. For all he knew, the Border Patrol had discovered the signs of the incursion by now and were sending word.

"At what point did they enter the Woodland Realm?" Thranduil demanded, indicating a map pinned to the wall of his office.  "Show us."

Beam walked to the map and studied it for only a moment before putting his finger on the edge of the woods perhaps seven or eight miles south of the Forest River. "Here," he said.

Thranduil and Eilian both looked at the spot that Beam had identified, and Eilian felt a chill run down his back.  "That is near the area where the novices are," he said.

He glanced at his father.  "With your leave, my lord," he said, "I will go.  I need to set warriors searching for our unwelcome visitors, and I will get the novices out of the area."

Thranduil nodded. "Do so," he said grimly.  He turned toward Beam. "We thank you for your information," he said stiffly, and Eilian strongly suspected that Thranduil was going to have something to say on the topic of Border Patrol failures on a more private occasion.  Beam nodded and followed Eilian out of the room.

***

Without his bulky gear, it seemed to Legolas that he was fairly flying through the trees. He and Nálas had left their companions behind before they had even begun to move again and were soon well away.  Legolas thought he knew exactly where the ravine was and, moving through the treetops, he and Nálas were soon approaching it, for the group had covered more ground than Legolas had realized on the previous day.  As they neared the ravine, they slowed their movements and stopped to confer.

"You check this side of the ravine," Nálas said softly into his ear.  "I will cross over and check the other side. We will meet back here.  Stay in good cover. They are likely to be sending out scouts of their own by now."  Legolas nodded and began to edge toward the ravine as Nálas quickly disappeared through the trees.

He had not searched far before he became convinced that there were no novices on this side of the ravine, but he worked his way all along the edge just to be certain.  Tynd would be disappointed, he thought.  Calorfil must have been misleading him for months.  Just to be certain he had not missed anything, he kept his attention on the edge of the ravine as he worked his way back to his starting point, but he still found no sign of the defending team.

As he crouched in a sheltering oak waiting for Nálas to return, it gradually dawned on him that the trees were uneasy over something.  He looked around cautiously, for now that he listened, the trees seemed to be whispering of danger.  Suddenly he heard a faint, high noise.  He turned his head and listened, and the noise came again.  It sounded like a child crying, he thought, startled.

If it was a child, he decided, then he needed to offer help at once, but remembering the lessons in caution that the novice masters had drummed into him and his fellows, he first sounded one of the bird signals that the attacking group had agreed on and waited to see if Nálas would answer.  When no answer came, however, he concluded that the other novice might be too far away to hear it, for the distance across the ravine was greater than he had remembered.  He hesitated only briefly before he decided that he could wait no longer.  He took his bow in hand and moved quickly in the direction of the sound.

He had gone only a few dozen yards through the branches before he saw beneath him a sight that froze him where he was.  At this point, the rocks that had tumbled back from the edge of the ravine had formed a long half circle with the open end pointing away from the ravine.  In this natural dead end was huddled a small, human, female child, and menacing her was a wolf.  The wolf was slinking slowly toward her, his yellow eyes never leaving her, and she was backed up against the rocks, crying in terror.  Legolas could clearly see the slaver dripping from the wolf's mouth, and his heart caught in his throat even as, with another part of his mind, he wondered how the child could possibly have come to be here.

All but holding his breath, he stood up on the branch and carefully nocked an arrow, but before he could draw, a whistling noise sang through the air and a sharp pain tore along the edge of his left thigh, shoving his leg out from under him and sending him tumbling to the ground with an involuntary cry of surprise.

Shock warring with confusion, he tried to rise.  And then fear swept over him as someone jumped onto his back, knocking him down again and throwing a cloak over him to pin his head and arms.  Nauseating pain shot through his leg as his attacker kicked at it.  Struggling to stay in control of the panic that was on the edge of his consciousness, he shoved frantically at whoever it was, but now a second person was on top of him, holding him down and trying to stop him from fighting them off.

"You are going to have to knock him out," said a Man's voice. Someone struck him on the head with what felt like a rock, and even muffled by the blanket, the blow was enough to send him descending into darkness.

***

Ithilden sat behind Alfirin on the bed and supported her, trying to ignore the midwife and his wife's mother who were now examining his wife.  They were making it hard for him to concentrate on keeping connected to his wife and son as they labored to bring the new life into the world.  He placed his hands over Alfirin's on her abdomen.

Even without distraction, keeping connected was difficult, for Alfirin kept slipping away into a world of her own, a world that he loathed and entered only with effort, for in it, Alfirin had been riding regular waves of pain for hours.  Even now, he could feel her stiffen and twist as anguish slid through her.  He clung to her and reached out to her with his mind, pushing against the pain and holding it as far at bay as he could. She relaxed against him as the contraction ended, but the respite was brief.  He felt her suddenly gathering what was left of her strength and all of his as the next onslaught hit.

And yet she was unbelievably strong.  For still, she remained in deep communion with the baby, and Ithilden, too, reached out to the tiny, determined creature who was his child and offered what comfort he could in the terrible struggle to be born.  At moments, the three of them were linked in a way that he knew would tie them together forever.

The two women straightened up.  "Excuse us a moment," said his mother-in-law softly, and the two of them withdrew into the sitting room.  Ithilden did not like this at all, for fear had entered his heart and it was not a feeling that he was accustomed to.

***

Eilian called the patrol to halt to allow the scout to descend from horseback and check the forest floor in several directions. They had tracked the attacking novices rather easily, for they had had no reason to cover their trail.  He thought they must be drawing near the group, for the signs that his scout was reading were growing fresher.  The scout approached.  "You might try a signal again, Captain," he said.  "I think they are quite near."

Eilian once again put his hands to his mouth and made a series of whistles and tweets. Then he paused to listen.  From directly ahead, an answering sound had arisen.  He signaled his warriors into motion again and they rode forward to find a group of nine or ten novices halted and waiting for them.  Lómilad approached.  "What has happened?" he asked anxiously.

"We have word of some Easterlings in this area of the forest," Eilian told him. "You need to get the novices out of the vicinity."  His eyes were scanning the group.  He saw Siondel sliding down from his horse to embrace Annael, who looked embarrassed, but he saw no sign of Legolas.  I must have misunderstood, he thought.  He must be in the defending group.  He turned back to Lómilad.  "Do you know where the defending group is?" he asked.

"Of course," the novice master answered.  "Their captain is required to tell me what he is planning.  They are in the old oak grove directly south of here."

Eilian turned and issued orders for two of his warriors to go and get the other group and escort them home.  He turned back to find Lómilad still standing next to his horse, looking grave.  Indeed, now that he thought of it, this whole group looked anxious.  "Is something the matter?" he asked.

"We were just becoming worried," Lómilad said grimly.  "The group had sent Legolas and Nálas ahead as scouts. They are not back yet, and I think they should have been."

Eilian's heart stopped.  "Where did they go?" he demanded.

"Toward the small ravine that is southeast of here," Lómilad answered.  "Do you know it? The one with the stream?"

Eilian nodded.  "You get the novices home," he said.  "We will look for Legolas and Nálas."

Lómilad frowned.  "I will see this group to safety," he said, "but I want to send Maldor with you.  Those are two of my novices out there."

"Very well," Eilian agreed.  He considered for a moment longer.  "You should take our horses, too," he said.  "That ravine is easier to reach through the trees than on horseback, and the horses will only hinder us.  They might speed your trip."  He dismounted and signaled for his warriors to do so too. Eilian caught the novice master's arm. "You will have to tell my adar what has happened," he said. Lómilad nodded grimly and then he and the novices began taking charge of the horses and after a few moments confusion, the novices were on their way to safety.

Eilian, the four warriors who had come with him, and Maldor moved into the trees and began speeding toward the ravine.  As they drew near it, Eilian signaled a halt. "We need to get down on the ground and search," he ordered, and they all dropped out the trees and began to comb the area.

Eilian was working his way along the edge of the ravine when he heard Siondel call, "Eilian! Over here!"  He turned and ran toward an area of underbrush where his lieutenant and Maldor were bending over a fallen figure.  "It is Nálas," Siondel told him as he approached.  "We heard him groaning."  And indeed, as Eilian crouched over him, he could see that a dazed Nálas was being helped to a sitting position.

"Can you tell us what happened?" asked Maldor with surprising gentleness.

Nálas drew in a deep, shaky breath.  "I think that someone hit me," he said in a surprised tone.

Maldor probed at the novice's head with careful fingers.  "There is a lump here," he said, indicating a place at the base of Nálas's skull.

"Legolas and I were at the ravine," Nálas said, "and I left him to search one side while he searched the other.  And then," he paused and seemed to search his memory.  "I cannot remember," he said despairingly, "but I think that someone hit me."

Eilian straightened up and looked around to where his three other warriors were still searching for signs of Legolas.  His hands were trembling slightly, but he kept his face impassive.  Siondel stood up next to him while Maldor tended to Nálas.  "I do not understand it," murmured Eilian.  "Why would someone knock him out? What would it gain them?"

Siondel shook his head. "I have no idea," he said.

"Captain!" called one of the searching warriors, and Siondel and Eilian ran toward him. The warrior led them around a rocky outcrop and into a clear area where he pointed at the ground.

Both Elves dropped to their haunches and studied the dirt, for there were clear signs of a struggle here.  And in the middle of the area, the dirt was darkened by a small, dark smear. Eilian touched it tentatively and then smelled his fingertips. "Blood," he said quietly.

"A wolf has been here," the warrior said, pointing to track a small distance away, "and it looks like a child has been here too.  A human child, judging by the shoes and the depth of the marks."  They puzzled briefly over these signs, and then Eilian turned away and began to stride toward where Maldor now had Nálas on his feet.

"Maldor," he snapped, "you get Nálas home, but I am sending Siondel on ahead of you for we need to move quickly.  Siondel, tell my adar and Ithilden what has happened. They will need to send many more warriors. In the meantime, these other three and I will go in search of whoever has Legolas.  And Valar have mercy on them when we find them," he added fiercely, "for I do not intend to."