Chapter Three: Legolas

The morning we were to leave for the Endurance Games came so slowly I was not certain if it would ever arrive. Darkness had yet to give way to light when I could finally justify rising from my bed. I had packed the night before what essentials I could stow in one small travel pack and placed my weapons out in readiness. After quickly washing, I dressed and left for an early morning meal.

In the corridor, I came upon Daeron on his way to the family dining room. “Good morning,” I smiled.

With a feeble wave of his hand and an even weaker smile, he asked, “Am I up yet?”

I laughed. “You are walking.”

“Good,” he yawned as we entered the dining room. “That is a start.”

Adar was already seated at the table, dressed only in a tunic and leggings, sipping tea as he looked over papers I thought must be the schedule Galion prepared for him daily. Seeing him so comfortably unadorned, I chuckled to myself: The king has not arisen yet, only my adar.

“Good morning,” he smiled, placing the papers aside.

“Why are you up so early, Adar?” I asked after Daeron and I had greeted him and taken our usual seats at the table.

“Parents customarily see their sons off on this excursion.”

“Our naneths are coming too?” Daeron said, his eyes finally coming fully open and plainly horrified.

Adar laughed. “No. You may bid them farewell before you leave the palace.”

At that time, Aldamir and Seregon came through the door, dressed for the day in their green warrior tunics and their knives strapped to their belts. I thought they seemed relaxed enough as they greeted us and sat down at the opposite side of the table.

Daeron examined his brother with narrowed eyes. “Are you coming to the training field with us?”

“Yes,” Seregon replied as he placed his meal cloth in his lap. “Aldamir and I always go to the field to see off the Endurance Games participants.” He smiled wryly. “Of course, you would not know that. Until today, you have always been sound asleep in your bed.”

Daeron slumped back in his chair, still staring at this brother as if he were trying to discern if this was the truth or merely a tale to disguise the fact that our older brothers were watching us.

Aldamir nodded to the servant as she placed a mug of steaming tea at his place. “Do not worry, Daeron, we will not hug or kiss you good-bye.”

“That is not my worry,” he said. “I am concerned that you will frighten the other novices. We are used to what you look like in the morning. They are unschooled in such horrors.”

Aldamir put a look of insult on his face and looked down at the front of his tunic. He ran his hand over the perfectly pressed cloth. “I am dressed appropriately.”

Adar laughed. “Eat. This simple pleasure will be the most fondly recalled aspect of home for the next ten days.”

Daeron and I ate our fill and possibly a bit more than needed, but I suspected that Daeron feared as much as I that Adar was right. I had heard the stories of Melda not allowing time to eat anything for days other than awebas, the dried mixture of honeyed oats and nuts that warriors ate when time did not allow true meals. Daeron and I had gorged ourselves on awebas when we were younger, and I did not wish to repeat that mistake.

When we had eaten all of the morning meal we could hold and still be able to travel, Adar sent us to bid farewell to our naneths.

I knocked gently on the door to my parents’ chamber.

“Come,” I heard my naneth call.

Naneth was waiting in their private sitting room for me. This room has always been one of my favorite rooms in the all the palace. The personal touches of my parents fill every space. Carpets cover the smooth stone floor; their soft surfaces swirled with leaves of every shade of green the forest has to offer. The softly blended colors make me feel as if I am walking in the forest on a late summer’s eve.

The furniture is warm and inviting as well. When I was an elfling, I found comfort there with my parents when the nights were stormy or when nightmares invaded my slumber. Even now that I am too old to sit in my parents’ laps, I still enjoy sinking into Adar’s chair in front of a roaring fire on cold winter’s night. The fireplace was unlit on this day, but was laid with logs and fresh greenery. A portrait of my mother has hung above the fireplace for as long as I can remember. Her brother, Tarondor, painted it for Adar at the time of my parents’ bonding. In the portrait, she is seated on a bench with her eyes cast downward to a fully opened snow-white peony bloom. She looks incredibly ethereal in the soft colors and the slightly hazy background of the gardens and tall beech trees. A portrait of my brothers and me that was painted for Naneth’s begetting day a few years ago is hung on a far wall above a tall chest of burnished wood and golden clasps. Oropher’s sword and knives are arranged on the wall next to their bed chamber door, situated under a portrait of him and Liunil seated in the throne room. A small portrait of Naneth’s parents brought with them when they came to the forest is on the other side of the door. Under the carved frame is her adar’s sword from the Last Alliance and a framed woven lace collar made by her naneth. Two houses joined into one. My parents’ sitting room is such a personal place that I feel as if the history of my family is held in all the portraits, books and keepsakes that are housed with love in this one room.

With her hair loose about her shoulders and still wearing her night robe, she rose gracefully from the chair in front of the fireplace and opened her arms to me. For as long as I have had memory, her scent has been as distinctive to me of her as her face. On that morning, I felt particularly comforted by being so near to her.

When she released me from her arms, her hands remained on my shoulders. “Good morning,” she smiled. “I trust you are prepared for your training exercise?”

“Yes, Naneth, I am ready,” I said.

“Good,” she said as she took my face between her hands. “I am so proud of you. I know you will do well. All I ask of you is for you to be cautious and safe. You, my son, are far too precious to your adar and me to risk harm coming to you. Learn well and enjoy your time under the trees”

I smiled. “I am told that we will not exactly enjoy this trip, but I will try.”

Naneth laughed. “Do your best. The trees will welcome a group of young novices under their boughs. They will share their song with you.”

I chuckled and hugged her again. “I will do my best, Naneth.”

Breaking from my tight hug, she stepped back and waved her hand toward the door. “I will miss you, but go before you are late. I love you, child. I will look forward to hearing about your trip when you return.”

When I returned to the corridor, I met with Daeron as he came from the chambers he shared with his naneth. Aldamir and Seregon were also there, leaning casually against the wall, waiting to walk with us to the field. Daeron stopped in front of his brother and whispered loudly, “Do you know what she told me?” Apparently, he did not require a reply for he plunged on. “She told me to be sure I cleaned my teeth and bathed daily. Then she asked me if I had enough clean stockings and told me to change my undergarments every day.” He threw his hands up. “Where does she think I am going, to Imladris to lord lessons?”

Seregon nearly choked in his effort to not burst out laughing. Aldamir dropped his head, most likely pretending he was reviewing troops so that he would not double over with amused hysteria. Not having their dignity, I laughed aloud. Aldamir waved his hand at me to silence me, but I could not stop laughing.

“Shh.h,” Seregon chuckled. “You do not want Naneth to hear you.”

“Or you,” Aldamir said as he poked me in the shoulder. Taking a deep breath, I gulped in air to try and control myself.

“Does she tell you to change your undergarments every time you go into the field?” Daeron asked incredulously. A hoot escaped me again. For my poorly contained effort, I received three stern glances. Daeron turned back to Seregon and held up his pack. “Does she think I have ten days worth of garments in this one small pack?”

Seregon hastily placed his arm around Daeron’s shoulders and began directing him down the corridor.  “No,” Seregon said, still flushed and constantly rearranging his lips into a tight upwardly tilted line to suppress laughter. “She is merely worried, Daeron. That is all. She cannot tell you that she is worried, so she tries to make herself feel better by knowing you are well stocked and prepared. This gives her a small comfort as if she were there with you to be certain you do not need anything,”

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Daeron snorted. “I can be the first novice to go on the games with my nana.”

“She is not going with you, Daeron. Naneth only wants to be sure you will be all right without her.”

Daeron let out a long huffing breath and shook his head. “I cannot believe this.”

Seregon patted Daeron affectionately on his shoulder. “Do not worry little brother; she will get better in several hundred years.” Daeron groaned as we all finally burst into laughter.

We were not the first to arrive on the small training field that morning as the forest around us began to awaken. The first glint of the rising sun glazed the grass and trees with soft golden light. Several other novices had already arrived and were sitting on the grassy knoll of the field with their packs and weapons nearby. Daeron and I dropped our packs and placed our bows against a tree and went to join them. As more novices trickled toward us, I thought that everyone seemed excited, even the novices who had gone before. This cheered me. If they did not dread what they knew would come, then I felt the games were something we would all survive more or less intact.

Aldamir and Seregon approached Melda, and I watched as they conversed in quiet tones. Occasional laughter came from them as they stood with arms folded, eyeing those of us who waited. I imagined they were recalling their own experiences with the games and again, I was heartened that they could find humor in their memories.

As the last of the novices arrived, parents also began to gather at the edge of the field, watching and waiting. Soon I saw Adar coming down the path toward where the parents stood in a tight group. He was still dressed in only a tunic and leggings. No circlet was on his head or any other sign of his position was visible. All the novices jumped to our feet. Parents bowed respectfully. The masters and our older brothers bowed and placed their hands over their hearts in formal salute. Adar nodded his acknowledgment and waved his hand. “Please, carry on. I am merely here to bid farewell to the novices.”

Melda nodded again. “We are always pleased to have you join us, my lord.” Adar smiled and turned to speak to Barahir’s father.

At last, when all were gathered, Melda held up his hand and silence fell over the novices. “Good morning to you all and welcome to the Endurance Games. You are all aware of our goals for this exercise. Our desire as masters is to offer you the opportunity to experience the conditions of patrol, battle and the woodcraft skills needed by warriors in a prolonged campaign. However, you must remember that we will be in the forest, and you should not at any time take for granted your safety. While we will use only training weapons in our exercises, you are required to keep your true weapons well within your reach at all times. No one is to wander off alone. A master will know where you are at all times. You will be divided into groups that will vary each day so that you experience serving with an ever-changing group. A captain will be appointed daily for each group.” He paused for a moment and looked us over. “For the beginning of the trip, I will divide you into four groups. The four oldest novices will serve as captains. All of them have participated in these games in the past and will help those who have not, understand what is required of you.”  He removed a small sheet of parchment from his tunic. “Moralendi will captain the group consisting of Findo and Alar. Your master today will be Orocarni.” Melda shifted his gaze up to look at us once again. He went on. “Nouren will captain Derion and Legolas. Your master will be Ambar.” He nodded toward us. “With Callilendi will be Barahir and Tarior. Your master will be Galdor. And lastly, with Belas, will be Kama and Daeron. You master will be Haluil.” I heard Daeron groan when his name was called for Belas’s group. Melda tucked the note back into his tunic and nodded to my brother. “Lord Aldamir…”

Aldamir smiled at us. “How pleased and proud I am to see such a fine group of novices assembled here today. As a commander, I am gratified to know that our future ranks hold such promise. This exercise will be one that will teach you much and aid you in honing skills that will go with you from this point onward. I do not doubt that you will make us proud.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Go safely.”

After a brief farewell with the attending parents, we began our journey. Our brothers held to their promise to not hug or kiss us good bye, but Adar had made no such promises. Despite being in full view of so many, I was relieved when he gathered me tightly to his chest and laid a kiss on my head. I found reassurance in his confident embrace.

The heat was far less noticeable as we wound our way further into the forest. The dense canopy of foliage barely rustled in the windless morning, but the leafy shelter did offer a pleasant shadiness. Occasional bursts of sunlight touched the leaf strewn path, dappling the shade with gently waving yellow dots. Birds chirped in happy song as we passed.

At mid-afternoon, Melda paused in a clearing to the southeast of where we had started out that morning from home and called us to gather around him. “Two trails have been laid. I will divide you into groups and you will follow your path to its termination.” He looked toward Kama. “Kama, you will lead your group southeast. You will lead: Belas, Daeron, Legolas, Alar, and Callilendi.” He turned to Findo. “Findo, you will lead Moralendi, Barahir, Nouren, Derion and Tarior to the southwest.” He smiled. “I will see you all at trail’s end. Now go.”

Our group gathered together with Kama in the center. He smiled. “I think Melda starts the games with this exercise every year to give us time to settle in and to get attuned to the forest in this area. If it is like last year, we will arrive at our campsite for tonight.” He glanced around. The masters had disappeared.  “The masters will be waiting on us at trail’s end, but do not assume that they are not watching us. They will be around, and once they are certain we are on the right trail, they will go on to our destination to await us. Even though they are near until the time we are almost there, they will not interfere. If we get lost, then we will be lost until we find our way. The later we are arriving, the less time we will have to rest. Pay attention. This first exercise is usually fairly easy, but do not think that we will not have to look for tracks. First and foremost, remember that we are far enough away from the protected areas of our home to encounter danger. Keep your real weapons within reach and be alert. Now, fan out and let us find the first clue as to our direction.”

Our group parted and began to search the ground and underbrush for any signs of a trail. The other group had moved to the west of us and was slowly making their way off into the woods looking for the tracks they were to follow.

We had only been searching for a few minutes when Alar called to Kama. “Look, captain. There are scuff marks here along this fallen branch.” He crouched and pointed to the limb that was as large around as my thigh. “See the crushed and broken bark. Someone has stepped on it.” Alar stood and stepped over the branch. “And here the leaves are disturbed, leaving an area on the ground that is newly exposed.”

Kama smiled and clapped Alar on the back. “I think you are right.” He motioned us all forward. “Continue to search this way,” he said as he moved forward, following the logical line of where someone would have walked.

From there on, the path was fairly simple to follow. The masters had not gone to much trouble to cover their tracks. About an hour into our tracking, however, the markings simply disappeared. An earnest hunt began as we fanned out to pick the trail up again.

“And this was going so well,” Daeron quipped as he walked along a line of scrub bushes, looking carefully at each one. I walked along behind him, searching the ground for any signs that our prey had doubled back on us.

“Here!” I heard Alar call to our right. “He has changed his course again toward the south. There are footprints in this soft dirt.”

Kama joined Alar and looked at where Alar was pointing. “Good work,” he said then chuckled. “You are very good at this, Alar.” Alar flushed a bright red.

Belas snorted behind me and whispered to Callilendi, “Indeed. It is a good thing the elfling can do something at least half way, especially since he can hardly lift a sword. And his archery! We are all in danger when he has a bow in his hand.”

Daeron and I both whirled around to look at him. He glared back at us for a moment as if challenging us to say something and when we did not, he went off in the direction Kama had gone, leaving Callilendi to face us. He merely shook his head and followed Belas.

“What a thing to say!” Daeron said, angrily. “He does not know Alar.”

“He is just being Belas,” I said as I fell in beside Daeron to follow the others. “We will simply have to ignore him”

“He is somewhat big to ignore,” Daeron snorted. “Alar is doing fine.” He stopped and looked at me. “And he should not have to put up with Belas just because he is Belas.”

“Perhaps Belas will not say anything directly to him. As long as he does not bother Alar, then it is probably best that we do not say anything to him. The masters will see how he behaves.”

“But will they intervene?” Daeron asked.

“They will if he becomes a problem,” I said as I started to walk again. “Besides,” I said as we quickened our pace to catch up to the group, “why would you be surprised? Everyone knows that Belas is curt to anyone he takes a notion to dislike.”

“Which is nearly everyone,” Daeron huffed.

I laughed. “True, but since we know he is mostly hot air, I do not see any reason to let him bother us. If we ignore him, then he will finally stop.”

“Stop?” Daeron said incredulously. “He has always been this way, and he has not stopped yet. Being a warg’s tail is as much a part of his personality as his aversion to smiling.”

“Ignore him, Daeron,” I said bringing back to mind the seriousness of this training. “We cannot risk getting into a squabble with him. Personally, I do not want to have to go home and tell my parents that I was reprimanded on this trip because I could not curb my tongue.” I smiled and bumped him playfully with my shoulder. “You, on the other hand, everyone would expect to get into trouble for saying what you think.”

Daeron snorted, but made no reply.

As we walked on for a minute, he tilted his head toward me and smiled wryly. “See, I can keep my thoughts to myself, or I would have pointed out that you are just as likely to tell someone that they are behaving like the south end of an ignorant orc as I am. You have certainly had enough choice words for me.”

“But that is you,” I laughed. “I have better sense than to pick a fight with another novice while training.”

“This is not about picking a fight,” he said. “Belas harasses people he sees as weak. Protecting someone or offering support to someone he is picking on is different. We cannot just stand by and allow him to hurt Alar.”

I sighed. He was right, of course. If Belas did cause problems, then we would have to deal with it appropriately; I was simply not certain at that point what the appropriate means would be. The first person to tell our concerns to would be our captain, but if Belas was captaining that day, this would be like complaining to Adar that we disapproved of his methods of punishment. Matters would only get worse. “We will have to wait and see, I suppose. If Belas becomes a problem, then we can look at it at that time, talk to some of the other novices, and then decide what to do.”

“Come to think of it,” Daeron said, “I do not think the masters will interfere no matter what he does, unless he endangers himself or others.” He stopped and turned to me. “My understanding is that they will allow us to work through everything just as if we are true warriors serving in the field. I have heard Seregon say that when there are personality conflicts, the captains do not intervene unless the quarrel becomes a threat to the patrol. They leave it up to the interested parties to sort out their problems on their own.”

I shrugged. “Then we will have to find a way to deal with this that does not create more problems. As long as Belas does not harm Alar, then perhaps we should stay out of it. I cannot see interfering unless Alar is unable to deal with the situation himself.” I smiled. “Perhaps Belas will move on to someone else.”

“I do not think Alar can handle this by himself. He is too insecure at this point,” Daeron said.

“But he has done well so far with tracking, better than Belas. Perhaps that will bolster his confidence?”

With a sigh, Daeron nodded. “Perhaps.” Then he muttered, “But what makes Alar feel better, makes Belas angrier than a bear with a thorn in his paw.” I laughed to myself.

No one said very much as we followed the last of our trail to where the masters were waiting. They were seated in a clearing that nestled next to a tributary that ran from the mountains to join the Forest River. The creek was small and ran lower than normal due to the lack of rainfall, but the sound of the water lazily running over the rocks was a welcome sign of relief from the heat.

Our group arrived only a few minutes earlier than the other, but there was enough time for us to feign relaxed boredom when they came through the trees.

Melda appointed duties. I was among those assigned to first watch. After the completion of setting up our camp, Nouren, my captain for the night, set out the perimeters we would walk for our watch. Ambar followed silently.

Dusk came promptly and full darkness soon upon its heels. After eating a stew that Daeron had helped cook and being surprised that it was not nearly as bad as I would have predicted, I took my bow and walked to the area assigned to me. I followed the plot of my watch to become familiar with it and then found a welcoming oak that was kind enough to grant me a view of my assigned area. The crickets were busy singing love songs as the tree frogs echoed their own refrain. I listened to their voices until I felt I knew their rhythm and would note any change. I knew I would know if they ceased, but oft times, just a change in their song can alert one to something moving in the forest. The stars blinked between the branches overhead as if they were as content as I to simply abide in this place. The old oak hummed at my back. I was sorry when the time came for me to travel the area of my watch again, and I had to leave this glorious moment of peace. So far, the games had been a delightful exercise, but I knew this peace was false and soon enough the masters would be putting us through our paces. As difficult and tiring as I suspected the remainder of the games would be, I was glad to be in the forest and looking forward to what the next day would bring.