Many thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this chapter for me.

*******

7. Seeking a Hiding Place

Contrary to Legolas’s expectations, Rodda did look a bit better when he went back to the cottage in the late afternoon to find Turgon, Annael, and Rodda all on the floor in the cottage sitting room. To his surprise, Amdir was hopping around the little room and singing to himself. Legolas handed Rodda the bread and cheese he had gotten from the palace kitchen. Jerking his head toward Amdir, he asked Turgon, “Will he not tell your parents?”

“He will forget,” Turgon assured him. “And even if he does say something, my naneth will not believe him. He makes things up.”

Legolas sat down near Rodda, who was eating a little more cautiously this time. Legolas had tried to remember what the healers gave people to eat after they had been sick, but all he could think of was broth, and he could come up with no convincing reason to ask the cooks for that, so he had had to settle for the bread and cheese.

He had had a hard time paying attention to his tutor that afternoon because he had been unable to stop thinking about the boy. When they had found Rodda on their camping trip, Legolas had thought only of the fact that the boy was obviously in trouble and that he and Turgon and Annael could help him find shelter and keep him from being sent back to Esgaroth, a fate that Rodda obviously feared.

Rodda had begged them not to tell any adults about him, and it had seemed only common sense to do as he asked. Legolas thought that Thranduil or Ithilden would be reasonably sympathetic because Rodda was, after all, a child. But he also thought that they were very likely to send the boy back to the care of other Men. They would not want to be responsible for him, and while Thranduil probably would not care how the Men of Esgaroth reacted, Ithilden’s comments on the previous evening suggested that he seemed to be thinking of the Men as potential allies, and he would not want to anger them. So Legolas had seen hiding Rodda as the only thing he and his friends could do.

In the cold light of day, however, Legolas was beginning to worry. He had heard that Men were subject to terrible diseases, and Rodda had been sick that morning. What if he were ill and needed a healer? And beyond that, for how long could they keep him concealed? What if Amdir told his parents about the boy and they actually paid attention? And really, Rodda could not live in this cottage forever. Probably even Turgon could see that, although he might never confess it.  But Legolas could not think of what else to do with the boy. If Eilian had been home, Legolas thought he might have asked him for help, but then again, Eilian sometimes surprised him and acted like all the other adults, so perhaps he would not have done that either. He and his friends were on their own, Legolas thought. They needed to know more about him, and then maybe he and Turgon and Annael could think of some way to help him.

“You are from Esgaroth?” Legolas made a tiny gesture toward Rodda’s uniform. Noticing it too directly seemed somehow indiscreet.

“Yes.” Rodda slowly lowered the hunk of bread to his lap. He was plainly uncomfortable with being questioned, but Legolas pressed on determinedly anyway.

“Where are you going?”

Rodda bit his lip. “I have not decided yet.”

“Is there someone who will take care of you?” Annael broke in. “Besides us, I mean.”

Rodda shook his head.

Legolas hesitated. “Maybe there is someone is Esgaroth, someone you have not thought of.”

Rodda jumped to his feet, inhaling sharply and spilling the bread onto the floor. “No! I told you, I can’t go back there. I--.” He gulped. “I’ve done something bad. They would hang me.”

Legolas’s heart missed a beat. The Men of Esgaroth would hang this boy? How could they do that?

“What did you do?” asked Turgon, his eyes wide.

“I can’t tell you. You’d hate me.” Rodda looked ready to burst into tears.

“No, no,” said Annael soothingly, reaching up to catch the boy’s hand and pull him down again. “You do not have to tell us. We will think of someplace else for you to go, and we will help you get there too.”

Amdir trotted over, picked up the bread from the floor, and began to nibble at it. “Can we go outside?” he asked hopefully.

Turgon sighed. “No. Not now.”

Legolas tried not to look too worried. What were they going to do with this frightened boy?

***

Drawn by the smell of wood smoke, Eilian led Maltanaur and the twins into the little clearing where three Men were gathered, roasting rabbits for their evening meal. It had taken them longer than they had anticipated to find the Men because this campsite was much closer to the edge of the forest than Eilian had expected. He had thought the Orcs would have led the Men deep into the forest by now, probably in the direction of the forest mountains, from which he guessed they had come. The Men’s presence here puzzled him.

All three Men were on their feet with their bows in hand when Eilian’s group appeared, but they did not look unduly alarmed, probably because the woods’ most dangerous inhabitants would not arrive on horseback. Their eyes widened at the sight of Elves. Thranduil’s people went to Esgaroth often enough that most of its inhabitants had seen Elves, but most never approached close enough to speak to them.

Eilian slid from his horse’s back. On the ride here, he had thought carefully about how to approach these Men. He needed them to accept his leadership. He needed the twins to do so too, for that matter, and during the trip he had become increasingly uneasy over the degree of their reserve with anyone but one another. He was used to being able to read his warriors at a glance, but he found he did not know what the twins were thinking. His inability to sense their intentions had shaken him a bit, and now he was a little worried he would not be able to understand the Men either. Away in the south as he usually was, he had had only occasional contact with them.

“Mae govannen,” he said, bowing with his hand over his heart. The three Men all nodded a little self-consciously. “The Elvenking has sent us to render what aid we can in recovering your dead and in hunting down the Orcs who killed them.”

The Men blinked, and then one of them stepped forward with his hand extended. “I’m Lared, and these are Drecan and Arend.” For just a second too long, Eilian stared in perplexity at Lared’s outstretched hand, but fortunately Elrohir stepped forward and shook it.

“I am Elrohir, and this is my brother, Elladan. These are Maltanaur and Eilian, our captain.” He slid his eyes toward Eilian, smiling blandly.

A little vexed at his own slowness, Eilian too shook hands with Lared. “Are you this group’s leader?” he asked.

“I’m its sergeant,” Lared said. “Our officers couldn’t stay. We’re only supposed to recover the bodies,” he added, as if trying to justify his officers’ absence. “And we’ve had no luck doing that. In truth, if we’d found nothing tomorrow, we’d have had to go home empty-handed.”

“Have you found signs of the Orc band?” Eilian asked.

“Yes, but they’ve not done as we expected and retreated to the mountains. Instead, they’ve been moving about in this area, occasionally shooting at our troops but mostly just seeing what we’re up to.”

“Scouts of some sort?” Eilian asked with a frown.

Lared nodded. “We think so.”

Eilian looked at the ground to hide any sign of his own thoughts. If the Orcs were scouts or spies, then they had probably not been supposed to provoke the Esgaroth troops by attacking their patrol. But the discipline of Orcs was always chancy, and if they had seen a chance for easy meat, they might have taken it. If that were the case, then the seven deaths had been a product of pure misfortune. And if the Orcs were scouts, then it probably would not be wise to allow them to report on whatever it was they were investigating. He felt a little thrill low in his belly and recognized the familiar warmth of battle lust. He had missed the excitement that came only when he leapt deliberately into the path of danger.

“They’ve been retreating to some hiding place deeper in the forest during the day,” Lared continued. “That’s probably where they took the bodies, but we’ve been able to follow them only so far before they disappear into rocky ground. They probably have a cave there. Twice we’re run into spider colonies and had to seek a way around them. And of course we’d have had to get to their den by night while they were out. The three of us couldn’t have engaged the whole band, not that we were supposed to anyway.”

Eilian realized he need not have worried about being unable to understand the Men. Compared to the faces of Elves, those of these Men were open for anyone to read. Lared fairly radiated unease about the forest that darkened as it stretched away to the west. Unease, shame at their failure, and anger, Eilian thought. He regarded the Men closely for a moment. They wanted to go after the Orcs, not just the bodies, he realized with a stab of satisfaction, and they were angry that they had not been able to.

“Our commander has written to yours, asking that you be seconded to us, so that together we can avenge your warriors’ deaths,” he told Lared.

He had been a little concerned that the Men would insist on hearing from their commander before they agreed to join him, but apparently it never crossed Lared’s mind that his leaders might refuse Ithilden’s request. His face settled slowly into lines of satisfaction. “We want the bodies too, if there’s anything left of them,” he warned. “There’s a young wife waiting for one of them.”

Eilian tensed. “We can destroy the Orcs tonight,” he told Lared. “But if you want the bodies, we will have to let them go so we can follow them back to their den. We will not be able to attack them until tomorrow night, when they come out again.”

“We want the bodies,” Lared repeated, “or at least any belongings we can recover.”

“We understand,” Elladan intervened. He glanced at Eilian. “We know how important it is to Men to see the remains of those they have lost. The Orcs will be just as dead if we kill them tomorrow.”

Eilian drew a deep breath. “Of course.” He kept his tone sympathetic, trying not to let his disappointment show but rather to make it clear to these Men that he understood their concern, although he was not entirely sure he did. When an Elven fëa fled a damaged body, the body crumbled rather quickly, a sign that what mattered was gone. “We will begin the hunt as soon as you have eaten,” Eilian said. He caught a glimpse of Elladan and Elrohir exchanging a satisfied look and assumed that the twins approved of his plan for immediate action, even if it would bear no fruit until the next evening. For a second, he wondered what the twins would have done if they had not approved, but he shoved that thought aside as pointless.

Lared raised an eyebrow. “It will be dark soon.”

Eilian smiled. “We know the forest and our eyes will penetrate the dark. We will find the Orcs, and when we do, we will hunt them to their den and then make sure that this particular band never harms either of our peoples again.”

Lared hesitated for only a second, regarding Eilian with his eyes narrowed appraisingly. Then he gave a slow, answering smile. “We’re at your service, Captain.”

As Eilian turned, intending to see to his horse and retrieve the bread, cheese, and apples that were still in his pack, he found Elladan looking at him with gleaming eyes before he too turned to reach for his pack. Eilian paused and then walked thoughtfully toward where Maltanaur was standing with both their horses. He admired the twins’ skill with weapons and had looked forward to hunting with them. On some visceral level, he echoed their desire for vengeance and their eagerness for a fight. He thought he understood them. The pain of his own mother’s death had not disappeared, but merely muted over the last twenty years, and the twins’ presence had called it to the fore again.

Oddly enough, what made him nervous was not a fear that the twins would lose control of themselves in a fight, as he himself might have done in the first black months when his loss had made him unsure if he wanted to go on with his own life. No, what worried him about the twins was their tight, single-minded concentration on their goal. They would be hard to manage if they decided that his leadership was not serving them well, and that could be dangerous for everyone concerned, not least of all the twins themselves.

He found Maltanaur too watching the twins. “Take care, Eilian,” Maltanaur murmured. “Those two strike me as a very bad mix of you and Ithilden at your worst.”

Eilian glanced over his shoulder to where Elladan and Elrohir had seated themselves among the Men, who in turn were edging slightly away from them. He saw what Maltanaur meant. Ithilden had that same immovable look sometimes, and the Valar only knew how often Maltanaur had seen Eilian spoiling for a fight. “They are extraordinarily good with swords,” he said, although he was uncertain whether he was reassuring Maltanaur or himself.

“I was not questioning their skill,” said Maltanaur and turned to tend to his horse.

Eilian took his pack and sent his horse off to graze. He would not need the animal tonight, for tracking would be easier on foot. He went back to where the fire burned, pulled out his food, and offered it to the Man who was tending the roasting rabbits. Drecan, Eilian thought. That was his name. The Man hesitated. “We have the meat, Captain. We could pool our supplies and share it all out, I suppose.”

Eilian glanced at the few rabbits and knew that what was enough for three would never stretch to feed seven. “No,” he said hastily. “We would not take your meat.”

“Then I don’t think we need your bread and fruit,” Drecan said. For a moment, Eilian wondered if he had offended Drecan, but there was no help for it now. He nodded and went to sit with his back against a beech tree, watching the Men and considering his plan for that night. Someone slid soundlessly up next to him and sat down, and he turned to see Elladan.

“The Men spoke truly when they said they would have trouble seeing after dark,” Elladan said quietly.

Eilian nodded. He had assumed that Lared was being realistic in doubting the Men’s ability to scout after dark, but he was glad to have Elladan’s confirmation. From what Eilian could tell, the twins had had a great deal of experience in fighting alongside Men. “They can show us the most recent tracks they have seen, and then we can scout without them and come back and get them later.” He looked at Elladan. “Can you and your brother travel through the trees?”

Elladan smiled slightly. “Not as fast as you undoubtedly can, but surely we will scout on the ground in any case.”

“Yes, of course. I was thinking more about how to summon the Men and then manage the battle tomorrow evening.”

Elladan turned toward him. His brows were drawn down, and tense lines had appeared around his mouth. “Elrohir and I are to be in the thick of the fight,” he said flatly.

Eilian blinked at him. “I will arrange it if it makes sense to do so,” he said slowly. “Your skill with swords will be welcome. But we usually use bows first, from the trees if we can. I need to see the terrain to decide how to deploy everyone, and we will also have to make good use of the Men.”

Elladan drew a deep breath and turned to look straight ahead. Then he leaned his head back against the beech trunk and briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his face had resumed the almost expressionless mask he usually wore. Across the fire, Eilian could see Elrohir watching them intently. “Very well.” Elladan rose and went off to sit near his brother.

Eilian looked down at the apple in his hand, struck by a sudden vivid memory of his own despair in the time just after the Orcs had killed his mother. It had taken him months to learn that he could ever be happy again, even for brief moments. And he did not know how he would ever have survived if his captain had not sent him home where Legolas’s demanding childish sorrow distracted him from his own. That and Celuwen, he thought, but turned away from the thought of her. They were not on good terms just now.

He grimaced slightly. He had been looking forward to pursuing these Orcs. The Orcs’ attack on the Men coupled with the suppressed rage of the twins over the fate of Celebrían had somehow made it seem as if on this hunt, all need for restraint was temporarily suspended. Even now, knowing he would have to wait, his blood sang with excitement at the thought. But somehow he had come to feel responsible not only for avenging these Men, but also for seeing to the safe return of the sons of Elrond. His mouth twisted in a wry smile. Ithilden was sometimes far too clever.

They all ate quickly, and the Men scattered the remains of their fire. “We are ready,” Lared told Eilian, taking his bow in hand in a movement that was echoed by the other Men.

“Show us the most recent traces you have found.”

The Men may have hesitated to go into the forest, but they were efficient enough trackers in this part of the woods, and they led Eilian, Maltanaur, and the twins to an area about two miles in from the forest’s border. Drecan pointed to the ground, where the signs of heavy feet disappeared into a rocky ravine that had probably been cut by a river that must have run down from the forest mountains at one time. “We followed them to this spot this morning. We’ve been avoiding them when they’re out, and trying to follow their tracks back to their den during the day, intending to go back at night when it was empty. As Lared told you, the three of us alone were not a big enough force to engage with them, although we’ve shot at them once or twice and killed one.”

Lared flinched a little at Drecan’s disclosure. “We weren’t supposed to do even that,” he said, a little apologetically, “because, of course, the Orcs came after us, and we had to do some smart maneuvering to get away. They might have found us even then, but there was a leader who seemed to have good control of them and called them back to whatever scouting they were doing.”

“You could not track them farther?” Elrohir asked. Eilian glanced at him. His tone was neutral but something in his voice suggested that he was surprised.

Lared stiffened a little. “No. The ground is very rocky.” Elrohir nodded and then drifted forward a little and bent to look at the stony ground.

“We will see what we can find,” Eilian told Lared. “Wait for us at your campsite. We probably will not be back until morning because we will want to make sure they are safely tucked up in their den before we leave them.” Lared nodded and then, a little reluctantly, signaled for the other Men to go with him and started back toward their campsite.

Eilian walked up to Elrohir, who was looking at a pebble whose damp underside was showing. “We need to get as close to their den as we can before dark so we have the best chance of finding them.”

Elrohir nodded. “We can track them easily enough until full dark. It will be harder then.”

Elladan and Maltanaur approached. “These Men are less competent trackers than the Rangers who patrol near Imladris,” Elladan observed. “I had not realized that there would be such a difference.”

Eilian shrugged. “It does not matter. We can find the Orcs, and the Men can join with us to destroy them.” Like Elrohir, he bent to inspect the ground, and before long, the four of them were making their way deeper into the forest, following the trail of the Orc band.

They had gone only a mile or so, however, before the last of the evening light faded, and the tracks became harder to spot, even with Elven eyes. Eilian sighed and straightened up. “They will be on the move by now.” He glanced around. They were in a rocky ravine, with brambles growing up its sides and trees leaning out over the tops of its edges. He had no way of knowing on which side of the ravine the Orcs would travel. He glanced at the twins and considered what to do with them.

If they had been Wood-elf warriors, he would have sent them to search one side while he and Maltanaur searched the other, assuming that whichever pair found the Orcs first would notify the other. But the twins were unfamiliar with the forest; moreover, despite their understanding of the Men’s desire to recover the bodies of their dead, he was not entirely certain he trusted them to do the sensible thing and leave the Orcs alone until the next night, when they were all together, including the Mannish soldiers. He had to suppress a sudden smile at the idea that he doubted someone else’s good sense when it came to danger. Maltanaur would fall over laughing if he knew what Eilian was thinking.

They would have to stay together, he decided, and get up into the trees to start sweeping the area, letting their eyes, ears, and noses tell them if Orcs were nearby. “Up there.” He pointed to the right-hand bank, and they all made their way to the top, fending off the brambles as best they could. He turned to the sons of Elrond. “We get a better vantage point and find it quicker to move through the trees. Is that true for you too?”

The twins exchanged a look. “Yes,” Elrohir said, with a small smile. “A bit more exciting, but quicker.”

Eilian blinked. He was uncertain what Elrohir meant, but he supposed he would find out soon enough if the twins were up to the task he was setting. “Good. You two move off three hundred yards or so that way. Stay close enough to signal Maltanaur and me if you find anything. Watch for spiders too, and let us know if you run across them, so we can avoid them.” He demonstrated the bird signals he wanted them to use, and they nodded and trotted off. He watched them long enough to see them swing up into the branches and begin working their way along through them. They were less sure-footed than Wood-elves, but they made the leaps from tree to tree well enough.

“We will have to go more slowly than usual,” Maltanaur murmured, watching the twins.

Eilian shrugged. “We have all night. We can just go forward more slowly, moving apart and then together again, searching a wider area at once.” He leapt into the nearest tree, and the two of them began the familiar task of scouting for Orcs. He and Maltanaur scoured their area, keeping the twins within hearing, if not always within sight through the thick, leafy treetops. Gradually, Eilian became convinced that they were on the wrong side of the ravine. Not only did they see no signs the Orcs, but also the trees here were too placid for there to be Orcs among them. He beckoned to Maltanaur and sounded the signal that called the twins to them. Evidently thinking he had found what they sought, they came racing recklessly through the branches and grabbed for their bows the minute they stopped moving.

“They are not here,” Eilian said. “We need to go back to the other side of the ravine.”

Elladan glanced at his brother, with one eyebrow raised. “You sound so certain.”

“The trees are undisturbed here,” Eilian said.

They turned identical skeptical looks upon him. “The trees?” Elrohir asked.

It occurred to Eilian with a shock that the twins could not hear the song of the forest trees. Perhaps they could only hear the trees of their own valley, he thought. Perhaps he would not be able to hear the trees’ song there. He rejected that idea at once. He was a Wood-elf. He would hear the trees wherever he went. “Yes,” he said firmly. “The trees. We will go back.” With Maltanaur at his side, he turned to retrace their path, and after a moment’s hesitation, the twins followed.

They dropped from the branches to cross the ravine, and then began to search again on the other side. And here, Eilian knew almost at once that they were on the right track. He could feel the disturbance in the forest’s night song in his very bones and blood, and his pulse quickened. Soon! Soon they would find their enemy. Stalk them only, he reminded himself. Tomorrow night will come surely, if not quite as soon.

And then, like poison dripping into a pool, the stench of Orc wafted toward him on the night air. He turned toward its source, and then paused for a moment to call the twins to him. Once again, they came flying rather more recklessly than their skill in the treetops made advisable, and Eilian again felt a spurt of sympathy for Maltanaur, who must have watched Eilian make similar journeys more times that he could count.

“That way,” Eilian murmured, but the twins had already caught the same smell he had and had turned in the direction that would surely lead them to the Orc band. Eilian touched Elladan’s arm. He could feel the tension in the muscles underneath Elladan’s tunic sleeve. “We will stay concealed and follow them back to their den,” Eilian reminded him. Grimly, Elladan nodded, and the four of them set off toward the Orcs, circling slightly to keep downwind of them, where the Orcs’ scent would be noticeable and their own would be swept away.

Within minutes, they could see signs that clumsy feet had passed through the forest below them. The bushes were trampled, and here and there, low branches had been snapped off the trees, apparently for the simple pleasure of hurting them. The trees here were agitated. Eilian occasionally patted their trunks as he moved through them, murmuring words of comfort. And then, he caught sight of a darker shape in the darkness under the trees in front of them, and immediately, he signaled a halt.

With a visible effort, Elladan and Elrohir reined themselves in to come to his side. He gestured them to move off a little to his left, and then, keeping pace with the band, they began the cautious task of shadowing the Orcs without being seen. In his years as a warrior, this was a task that Eilian had rarely had to do, and even though he knew why it was necessary, he chafed at it now. Every instinct he possessed drove him to attack at once, to wipe the forest clean of the creatures who were befouling it. He could only guess at what the sons of Elrond were feeling and kept glancing over at them to make sure they were following his orders. For now, they seemed to have their fury under the cool control in which they were usually wrapped, but even from a distance, Eilian could see what it cost them, and felt his own desire for action throbbing through his veins in answer.

Glancing to his right, he found Maltanaur watching him in what he assumed was an echo of his own scrutiny of the twins. He smiled weakly and turned his attention back to the Orcs. Attacking now would be stupid, he thought fiercely, silencing the voice in his head whispering that the four of them would be more than a match for these brutal but crude fighters.

He redoubled his efforts to assess the band, counting them and looking for bows on their backs, because the presence of many archers would make the trees an unsafe refuge for him and his companions. Of course, using the trees might be a problem for the Men in any case, he reminded himself. He counted seventeen Orcs, eight of them with bows.

As they moved through the dark woods, Eilian also began to see the odd pattern of behavior that the Men had described. The Orcs trotted along the forest’s edge, apparently scouting out the positions of any Esgaroth soldiers. Twice, Eilian became aware of Men moving on horseback over the grassy lands beyond the forest’s borders, and it was evident to him that the Orcs registered their presence too. Each time, he reached for his bow, intending to shoot if the Orcs gave the slightest sign of going after the Men. But both times, the Orcs only paused for as long as the Men were within hearing, and then moved on. Eilian could see that, just as Lared had told them, the Orcs’ leader was keeping a tight control over them, on one occasion even snarling and snapping at an underling who put his hand to his bow.

Although they followed the Orcs for what seemed like an eternity, the night had been more than half gone by the time they had located them, and Eilian was nearly caught by surprise when the Orc captain barked an order and the band wheeled around and began to make its way back into the woods. He sounded a low call and hastily began to retreat. If they were to stay downwind of the Orcs, they would have to travel ahead of them now, and keep an eye out for any changes of direction. To his relief, he saw Elladan and Elrohir respond immediately, and he was reminded of the fact that they were experienced warriors, even if they were off balance just now.

The trip back was slowed by the fact that the Orcs stopped to stalk and kill a deer that they then threaded on a branch to carry back to their den. Dawn was nearly upon them by the time Eilian stood on the lip of the ravine and looked down to see the troop enter a cave that was well hidden behind some rocks. He let out a long breath. Here then, they would stage their battle when the day faded again. He would have all day to rest and make plans.

He beckoned to Elladan, who was looking hungrily down at the cave entrance with Elrohir at this shoulder. “Take your brother and go back and get the Men,” Eilian murmured.

Elladan’s head jerked around toward him, and Eilian immediately knew that Elladan had reached the end of what he could endure. He could no more walk away from his prey than Eilian could fly to Imladris. Ah well.  That the sons of Elrond were under his command had always been a fiction.

“You and Maltanaur move much more quickly through the trees,” Elladan said evenly. “And you would know how to manage the spiders too, should you and the Men come across them. We have no experience with them.”

Eilian looked at him for a long moment, seeing Maltanaur standing behind Elladan with disapproval written large on his face. “The Orcs will not emerge until nightfall,” Eilian said.

Elladan nodded. “I know.”

Eilian sighed. Unfortunately, Elladan had a point about the spiders. “Very well. Maltanaur and I will go. We will be back as quickly as we can.”

Elladan nodded and turned his attention hungrily back to the cave mouth.