Chapter Eighteen

The sun was steadily moving behind the summit of Black Mountain. Aragorn, Legolas and the Rivendell twins were able to keep well ahead of the resulting shadows cast by the jagged peak. The shadows would not be too dark to hamper Aragorn from checking what damage had been done to each of them by the howlers, however, he preferred to work in direct sunlight. There was less chance of missing something that way, and he knew from experience that even something seemingly insignificant could turn into something potentially dangerous.

Well ahead of the receding edge of the sunshine, Aragorn continued to walk, while keeping an eye out for a suitable place to stop. He soon found an area of flat rock and halted. Turning to his left, he said, “Elrohir, would you clear away those loose pebbles on that flat area and lay your cloak down there?” The man indicated the spot he was referring to with the jerk of his head in that direction.

The younger twin immediately knelt down and used his uninjured arm and hand to sweep away the little rocks that littered the trail. He cleared an area big enough to accommodate the blond elf in Aragorn’s arms. Elrohir then removed his cloak and folded it lengthwise so the bloodstains that had soaked into it from his wounded arm were turned under.

Aragorn carefully laid Legolas down on the elven cloak and straightened up, stretching his back a little as he did so. He knew that Legolas had probably sustained more wounds, but he saw only a small amount of black blood on his friend. Legolas would be all right for the moment, so the man turned his attention to his brothers.

Elrohir had more red blood on him than anyone, although that was not always an accurate indicator of the seriousness of a wound. Aragorn glanced at Elladan. “Do you have any wounds that need immediate attention?”

Elladan shook his head. “A few scratches only.” He gave his youngest brother a small smile. He was very familiar with the look the human was giving him. He had seen it often enough. It clearly said, “Are you telling me the truth?” He laughed. “Tend to Elrohir, Estel. I can wait.” He said it with as much conviction as he could. The elf kept the worry he felt for Elrohir and Legolas out of his voice. Estel did not need any added pressure.

Running his eyes quickly over the eldest elf and satisfied that Elladan was truly not trying to fool him the way Legolas usually did, Aragorn turned his attention to the younger twin. “Elrohir, sit down and let me have a look at you.”

When the elf obliged, Aragorn conducted his examination. He flinched when he pulled Elrohir’s sleeve up and saw the ring of teeth marks in the elf’s flesh. Except for the fact that the holes were not as deep and there was no swollen infection, it looked just like the wound in Legolas’s shoulder. A more thorough examination showed that Elrohir’s arm was the only body part that had taken an injury.

Aragorn looked around for his pack and realized with a jolt that it was not there, It must have been left behind. So, it appeared, had the other three. It was expected that Elladan and Elrohir would have dropped them so they would be able to fight more effectively. It was not expected that they had all forgotten to bring them when they left.

Elladan had seen Aragorn searching near him and quickly figured out what the man was looking for. “We left the packs,” he said with a sudden flash of anger and dismay that they could have just walked off and not given them a second thought. “I will go back and retrieve them.” He turned to leave.

Aragorn’s voice stopped him. “Elladan, while you’re there, please get as much blood as you can from some of those creatures. We need it, if we are to make an antidote.”

The elder twin nodded and began the climb back up the trail. How many times had he gone up and down this rocky path? ‘Too many,‘ he answered himself grimly. ‘It will soon be worn down into a trench.’ He vowed that once he got what he needed and came back down, this trail would never see his feet again.

Elladan returned his mind to the task at hand. He would retrieve the packs and get as much of the black blood as he was able. It looked as if all four of them were going to be in need of it, and he was sure that the longer it remained in the dead bodies, the more useless it would become. He increased his pace.

Once out of sight of the others, Elladan had put his hand on the wound on his neck. He had been truthful with Estel, knowing the wound wasn’t a particularly bad one. In fact, he was probably the least seriously wounded of the four of them. But even so, it was beginning to ache more than just the annoying sting it had been before now. The elf shook his head in dismissal and continued on up the mountain trail.

When Elrond’s eldest son arrived at the spot of the recent fight, he stopped and surveyed the small battleground. Howler bodies littered the snow. Some of the creatures were without heads, one had the lower part of its leg severed, and the rest had wounds of varying types---al fatal.

Normally, Elladan didn’t gloat at seeing carnage, even when it was necessary. Like all peace-loving beings, he wanted everyone to get along and live their lives according to the desires of their hearts. But when those desires involved killing or enslaving the free peoples of Middle-earth, the stakes changed dramatically and battles to the death often resulted. Now with the increase in Shadow upon the land, battles large and small were more numerous and more desperate.

Gruesome as the scene before him was, the elf couldn’t help but smile. These creatures had been vicious and had possessed no qualities worthy of redemption.

The howlers may also end up being responsible for taking the life of Mirkwood’s youngest prince, although the very thought of the possibility of losing Legolas caused Elladan a deep pain in his heart. If the howler leader was telling the truth, the lives of him and his brothers would be forfeit as well. Elladan unconsciously reached up and touched his neck again.

With a sigh, Elladan looked more intently at the area around him. He knew exactly where he had been standing when he had tossed aside the two packs he had been carrying. It took him a moment longer to locate the two packs Elrohir had been responsible for. They were partially hidden by a howler body lying in the snow at the base of a large boulder on the other side of the trail.

Rounding the four packs up, he knelt down and opened his own well-worn one and found a small drinking cup. He didn’t look forward to trying to obtain the black blood of the howlers. Without a pumping heart to move the blood, Elladan knew he would have to virtually dig it out of their bodies. It needed to be done, however. Estel had to have it to make the antidote, though how that would be accomplished, Elladan had no idea. Unfortunately, he didn’t think Estel did either.

With the cup in one hand and his knife in the other, Elladan walked up to the nearest howler and stared down at it. This was the one with the severed leg. He shook his head. It had bled to death and would probably not have much blood left in its body.

He turned to a creature a few feet away and knelt down beside it, ready to complete his important but unpleasant task. As he held both cup and knife next to the howler body, he was sure of one thing: no matter how well it was cleaned, he knew he would never drink from that cup again.

~*~*~

Elrohir hissed as Aragorn held his arm firmly to better examine the bite marks. Each tooth mark had a little trail of blood trickling down from it. Most of the blood he had shed had ended up on his cloak. Other than that, the wound looked relatively clean. That was surprising, considering the decided filthiness of the howlers’ teeth. Of course, he reminded himself, looks were often deceiving.

Aragorn looked up at Elrohir’s somewhat anxious face. The younger twin was rarely fearful of what a wound might do to him. He took things as they came. However, he had seen what a howler bite had done to Legolas.

Pushing his fear aside, Elrohir made the same observation that Aragorn had thought a moment ago. “It looks like the wound on Legolas’s shoulder.” He forced a grin. “Of course, they were both caused by the same thing.”

Aragorn returned the grin. “And to think that Elladan doesn’t believe you have any powers of deduction.”

“Oh he thinks that, does he?” Elrohir replied. He had a very ‘I’ll-show-him’ note to his voice.

The seriousness of the situation soon overtook them both, when Aragorn said, “There is more athelas in my pack. I hope it’ll help.”

“It did not help Legolas,” Elrohir pointed out, though it was hardly a revelation. Seeing the man’s expression of failure, the elf put his hand on Aragorn’s arm. “It will work this time.” Both doubted that statement was true, but Aragorn appreciated the effort at encouragement Elrohir was making. “And there is the antidote you will make from the creatures’ blood.”

“Which we do not have,” came a voice from several feet away.

Both Aragon and Elrohir looked up and saw Elladan rounding the titled boulder and approaching with two packs slung over each shoulder.

“What do you mean?” Aragorn asked, not liking the crestfallen look on Elladan’s face. A very bad feeling began to build in the pit of the man’s stomach.

Elladan pulled the straps of the four packs free of his shoulders and set them down near the ranger. He straightened up and looked both of his brothers in the eye. “They are gone.”

For an instant, Aragorn’s heart almost stopped. It did skip a beat. Maybe two. Shaking his head, he said, “I knew they were immortal, but to survive decapitation and...”

Hearing these words, Elladan realized what Aragorn, and probably Elrohir as well, were thinking. “No, Estel. I said that wrong. I do mot mean that the creatures got up and left. They were all dead, just as we killed them. Only...” He found it hard to continue. Describing what had taken place while he was among the howler bodies was going to be challenging.

“Elladan,” Elrohir said, “tell us what has happened.” He saw the difficulty his twin was having, so his voice was soft and encouraging.

Elladan sat down in front of his brothers. But before beginning his story, he glanced at Legolas. “How is he?”

Sighing, Aragorn replied, “The same. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

“And your arm?” Elladan then asked Elrohir.

The younger of the dark-haired elves smiled slightly at what he was about to say. “It is not bad.” He refrained from looking at Estel, who he knew was probably shaking his head. “Tell us your news.”

“I went to the place where we fought the creatures. They were all there, just as we had left them. I found out packs easily enough and got my knife and my drinking cup. I was not looked forward to trying to get the creatures’ blood out of those hideous bodies, but I knew it needed to be done.

“I picked a howler that I thought would yield the most blood and knelt down beside it. It looked just the way it did when it fell. I know because I was the one that killed it. I reached down to roll it over, so I could cut it open.”

Elladan paused, his head shaking from side to side. He was not in the least squeamish, so Aragorn and Elrohir had no idea why he was finding it so hard to talk about cutting open a howler.

Despite the anxious anticipation of what Elladan was about to tell them, neither Aragorn nor Elrohir said a word. They could see that Elladan’s frown had grown deeper in the elf’s fair face.

After taking a deep breath, Elladan continued. “I reached out, and as soon as I touched the creature, it collapsed into a pile of dust.”

Both Aragorn nor Elrohir were struck speechless. Whatever they were expecting to hear, this certainly was a far cry from it. Finally Aragorn managed to get out one word, “Dust?”

Elladan nodded. “I know it sounds crazy. Even watching it happen, I could not believe it myself, so I went to each howler body and touched it, hoping that the next one would not do what the last one had done.

“Each one did the same thing. They each looked normal and then at my touch, they all turned to dust. I have no doubt that a strong wind will come and blow the dust away. Except for the cavern, all evidence of the howlers on the mountain will be gone.”

Aragorn roused himself from his shocked state enough to comment. “They were cursed by Morgoth millennia ago. When they died, I guess they turned into the dust they would have become as mortals who died a normal death all that time ago.” It was pure speculation, but it made sense.

“I do not mourn the creatures‘ loss in itself, even though being cursed was not their choice.” Elladan took a deep breath. and then expressed what he dreaded most of all to say. It was the one thing that he was sure would soon occur to his brothers. “That means I could not obtain any blood.”

Elrohir looked at his twin. “What about the blood that ran into the snow?” He turned to Estel with a note of desperate hope in his voice. “It would be diluted when the snow melted, but could it not still be used somehow?”

“The blood vanished when they did,” Elladan said sadly. “There will be no antidote---for any of us.”

TBC