Chapter Five: Consequences of Delays

Legolas halted his mount.  “Someone draws near.”

“Friendly?” Aragorn asked in a whisper.

The elf shook his head.  “I do not know.”

Gently, Aragorn shook the shoulder of the slumped figure who rode in front of him.  “Doleth, you must wake.  Someone is coming.”

The girl started, straightening quickly.  “Forgive me, sir.  I must have dozed off.”

The slightest of smiles touched Aragorn’s face.  During the tedious journey of the last day and a half, Doleth had made no complaint at the fast pace they had maintained.  In fact, she had been nothing if not eager to please, seeming afraid to offend either of the warriors who escorted her.  Aragorn’s smile quickly vanished however, as it always did.  Every movement Doleth made reminded him of Dómiel in the most painful way – every toss of the head, every fleeting smile inevitably made him think of his own daughter, somewhere beyond his reach.

Legolas turned toward his king.  “They come directly toward us.”

Aragorn made a swift decision.  “Hide.”

Both warriors turned their horses quickly off the path and into the trees.  Moving with speed learned from decades – or, in Legolas’ case, centuries – of experience, they concealed their horses and crept forward to the edge of the path to watch and wait.  Doleth crouched down where Aragorn had motioned for her to stay, trembling.

Finally, a party of armed men on horseback appeared from around the bend.  The men bore black shields, and their helmets masked their faces.

A cry flew from Doleth’s lips.

Instantly, Legolas clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late.  The men had heard.

“Reveal yourselves!” cried the man who seemed to be in command, searching the brush with his eyes.

Aragorn hesitated, mind racing as he looked for a way out.

The commander gave a quiet command.  Six men drew arrows from their quivers, aiming at the thicket where the trio hid.

Without warning, Doleth leapt to her feet.  Legolas jumped up beside her, hoping somehow to shield her from the arrows that would surely fly.

The commander’s eyes grew wide in shock.  “Doleth?”

“Don’t shoot, Papa!  They haven’t hurt me!”

Aragorn chuckled in amusement and relief as he rose to his feet, hands spread in a gesture of peace.  “Greetings, honored Mayor!” he called out.  “I believe you are searching for this young one.”

“Yes,” the Mayor replied softly, and Aragorn thought he detected a glimmer of moisture in the man’s eye.

Legolas released his hold on Doleth’s arm, and the girl ran from the thicket, crying, “Papa!”

The instant she reached the safety of her father’s arms, Doleth began to talk, telling him everything about her capture and subsequent rescue.  It took several minutes for the Mayor to assure himself that Aragorn and Legolas had not captured his daughter, but rescued her.  Once he was certain that his daughter had come to no harm, he greeted the two warriors warmly.

“My name is Telithar, Mayor of Molenth, and all the resources of my small town are at your disposal, Master Ranger and Master Elf,” he said fervently.

Aragorn bowed slightly.  “All I could ask of you, sir, would be information.”

As the soldiers began setting up a temporary camp, Aragorn and Legolas seated themselves near the edge of the clearing beside Telithar and Doleth, who refused to leave her father’s side.

Aragorn wasted no time.  “Your daughter told us of a band of renegades who often arranged kidnappings of this type.  Do you know anything about them?”

Telithar nodded.  “After the defeat of Sauron, Mordor became a gathering place for all evil.  Many men who had profited from Sauron’s reign of terror – thieves, assassins, and the like – journeyed there and set up homes for themselves under the shadow of the lingering darkness.”

Aragorn nodded.  This much he already knew.

“Several of those men,” Telithar continued, “allied themselves into small bands in order to commit larger and more terrible crimes.  A few years ago, one of these groups began taking responsibility for a series of kidnappings.  Their methods are unfailingly the same.  Family members of men of wealth and influence, or occasionally the man himself, vanish without a trace.  Some days later, the man or his family receives a note demanding vast amounts of gold or silver or gems or whatever that land has to offer, for the safe return of the one who was taken.  If the families do not pay, the victim is never seen again.  The rumors say they are killed or worked to death in the bowels of the earth.”  He shuddered and pulled his daughter close to his side.

Struggling desperately to keep his face neutral, Aragorn merely nodded.

“What else do you wish to know?” Telithar asked after a moment.

“What do these men call themselves?”

“No one knows,” the Mayor replied.  “Their ransom demands are signed merely with a symbol – a black-hilted knife.  My people refer to them as the “Shadows of Mordor.”

“Do you know where they have their lair?” Aragorn asked.

“The last time Doleth fell into their hands, we tracked to the mountains themselves.  I do not know whether or not they are still there, but I can show you the area where we found my daughter.”

“I would find that most helpful,” Aragorn replied, careful to keep his answer casual.  As Telithar went to look for drawing supplies – trailed, of course, by Doleth – Aragorn caught Legolas’ eye.

“I think, my friend,” the elf whispered softly, “this delay has proven to be well worth its risk.”

Aragorn shook his head.  “I shall agree with you once I hold Dómiel in my arms as Telithar held Doleth.”

The Mayor trotted back a moment later, a piece of parchment in his hand, and Aragorn schooled his features once more.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Three days later

“We are nearly there,” Aragorn whispered, glancing once more at the roughly-drawn map Telithar had given him.

“I feel as if we are being watched,” Legolas warned softly.  “These mountains have eyes.”

After a moment’s consideration, Aragorn nodded in the direction of a rocky outcropping a few yards away.  “Perhaps we can shelter the horses there.”

The outcropping proved to be quite suitable for concealing both mounts, so Aragorn and Legolas left them there and crept further up the mountain on foot.

“There.”  Legolas pointed just up the mountain at a dark hole, nearly concealed by brush and boulders.  “That looks large enough to be the entrance.”  He crept closer, moving to see from a better angle.  “Yes…I see movement.  There is someone there.”

“It is heavily guarded, no doubt,” Aragorn muttered darkly.

“Let us look for another entrance,” Legolas said.  “If we could sneak in through some abandoned tunnel…”

“That search could take days,” Aragorn protested quietly.

“Estel…it is our best hope.”

Finally, Aragorn nodded, the two set off around the edge of the small cliff which housed the entrance and began a long, and quite possibly futile, search for a lesser-used entrance.