Chapter Twenty

It didn’t take long for Aragorn’s eyes to shift downward to Allaura’s throat. It wasn’t the fact that he would like to place both of his hands around that throat and... No, it was the fact that the woman’s flawless, milky white skin below it was devoid of adornment. "Where’s your necklace?" he asked in a level tone.

Immediately Allaura’s hand went to her throat, and Aragorn wasn’t sure what he saw when he looked into her dark eyes. Was it fear or anger he was witnessing? Both, he decided.

Allarua’s tried to dismiss the necklace’s absence as being in any way important. "I do not need it," she lied. The expression on the man’s face told her he didn’t believe her.

A wide smile spread across Aragorn’s face. He grabbed the woman by both arms right above her elbows. "Then this will not hold you. Correct?" he asked sarcastically. His hands tightened until the area of her skin around his fingers was bloodless.

Her eyes narrowed. "You had best not provoke me, ranger. I promise it will not go well with you, if you do not let me go."

The man’s grip did not lessen. "You know this house well, so where would Legolas likely be hiding?" He, of course, knew nothing of the elf’s obsession, but he thought that perhaps Allaura would know of a good hiding place. The elf would have had to stumble into it, not knowing his way around, but Legolas was resourceful, and Aragorn knew his friend would find a suitable place to avoid detection until he could get down to the dungeon to try and free him.

Despite the reversal of their roles as captor and captive, Allaura had no intention of helping this man find the elf and take him away. "And what would be my reward for finding him?"

"I will keep you from facing the dragon."

Allaura burst out laughing. "You just said he was probably a long way away by now. Besides, even if he was still here, no dragon is going to help a human or even an elf. He would as likely kill you as look at you. What kind of fool do you take me for?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" the ranger sneered. She had no idea the connection he and Legolas had with Treco, and, for now, he wasn’t going to tell her.

He didn’t get the chance to answer her question, even had he intended to, because just then a noise was heard near the end of the hall. Without releasing his hold on Allaura, Aragorn looked toward the sound. What he saw surprised him.

A man was coming down the hall aided by a crutch. His right foot was wrapped in black satin fabric. He had clearly torn off a piece of Allaura’s bed linen and used it as a bandage. Aragorn spared himself a second to wonder how Allaura would react to that. Badly he hoped.

It suddenly dawned on Aragorn who this man must be. He looked at Allaura. "Your husband, I presume?" His question was met with a scowl from the woman he held. ‘So, she isn’t happy to see him,’ he thought. ‘This could prove helpful.’

When Ricard came within ten feet of him and Allaura, Aragorn said, "You can stop right there." His presumption might be way off the mark, and he wasn’t willing to take the chance of trusting this man until he knew more about him and his relationship with Allaura. Too much was at stake to make that mistake.

As Aragorn looked at the man, he found himself leaning toward sympathy for him. He was way too thin and haggard looking. Allaura must have been using him for years, probably since they first married. He wondered how the man could make it down the hall on his own, even with a crutch.

Allaura glared at Ricard. "Do something!" she yelled at him. "Hit him!"

"How, my dear? I am ten feet away. Should I throw my crutch at him?" Ricard asked with his own share of sarcasm. Seeing that his wife wasn’t the one in control had given Ricard a bit of courage.

If the man’s words were an act, it was a good one, Aragorn thought. The look in Ricard’s eyes appeared to be none too upset at the situation in front of him. In his years among his own kind, Aragorn had never known any man or woman who could completely hide their true feelings. A face may express one thing, but the eyes never lied. Only elves could mask their emotions, but even for the Firstborn, it was not always an easy thing to do.

Ricard regarded his wife. "You were happy to leave me in pain, not only just now but all the times you used that necklace on me." His tone was bitter. "Why should I help you now?"

"Because I will bury you, Ricard, literally, once I get free of this ranger." The words were spoken with a venomous threat that was all too believable.

"It looks like you have a choice, here, Ricard," Aragorn told the man. "You can help me or help Allaura. Which will it be?"

Ricard avoided looking at his wife. He knew the threatening look that she likely had on her face. He had seen it all too often in his years with her. "I do not know how much help I can be to you with my broken foot, but I will do my best. And I promise you, I will not help her."

"Good," Aragorn smiled. "Tell me where we can put her while I search for Legolas."

"Legolas is the elf."

"Yes."

"He is the one who broke my foot."

That piece of news was a bit of a surprise to Aragorn. His friend must have believed that Ricard was working with Allaura. Perhaps he should rethink giving this man any kind of trust. Elves had an uncanny intuition when it came to discerning evil. He decided to ask. "Why did he do that?"

"It was to my shame that he had to do it. I..." Ricard took a deep breath before continuing. "I was holding him from behind. I gave in to Allaura’s demands. I hate to admit that I am - was - afraid of her. You cannot imagine what she has done to me over the years."

‘Yes I can, though she only did it to me once. I can see in you the result of years of it,’ Aragorn said to himself. Even though he knew Ricard was well aware of his own condition, the ranger didn’t think it would be very nice to say so to the man’s face, so he refrained from voicing his thought.

"You deserved it, you worm," Allaura spat out. "I should have killed you right after we married."

Ricard shook his head. "Lovely, isn’t she?" He looked his wife straight in the eye. "You should have done jus that, my dear, because now I will gladly help these people bring you down."

Allaura screamed and tried to lunge at Ricard, curving her fingers into claws ready to scratch out her husband’s eyes. However, Aragorn’s grip was too strong to be broken.

Even with Ricard’s declaration and Allarua’s reaction, there was still reason for caution, but Aragorn had decided that Ricard would be a valuable asset to him. He noted the smile on the other man’s face. "Where do we put her?" Aragorn reminded.

"I would not trust her out of our sight here in this house, no matter how secure the place we may leave her," Ricard said. "There are four guards, who would help free her, if they found her locked up."

"Not to worry about them," Aragorn told Ricard. "I left them unconscious in the chamber with Treco. I’m sure he took care of them before he left."

Ricard stopped and looked at the ranger. "The guards are dead?"

"I would imagine. I knocked them all out and left them with Treco after I freed him. He wasn’t too pleased with them, so..." He left the rest of the sentence unsaid, sure that both Ricard and Allaura could supply their own scenario.

Ricard stared at the ranger. "How in the world did you free the dragon? And yourself for that matte?" He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that before now.

"A hole in the ceiling, but that’s a tale for another time," Aragorn replied. That was far down on the list of things to do.

Ricard looked at his wife. So not only had the elf eluded her, and the ranger now held her captive, but her captured dragon was now gone, as well. He gave her a wide smile.

Allaura actually snarled, trying again to jerk free of Aragorn‘s hold to attack her husband.

Ignoring her, Aragorn asked, "Where do you suggest we go?"

*~*~*~*

The land rolled away far below Treco, as he soared out over the valley and across the surrounding ridges. He felt sheer joy, as the fresh air blew into his face and flowed over his body. The dragon couldn’t resist a wide grin at the pure luxury of it. This was where a dragon was meant to be.

Treco felt more and more comfortable the farther away from Ravenlore he got. As he passed the last ridge surrounding that witch’s valley, he knew there was no chance that she could bring him down the way she had before. Whatever magic she possessed couldn’t reach this far.

He wasn’t all that hungry, he realized, but he was thirsty. Spotting a river in the distance, the dragon swooped low into the next valley and headed for it.

The huge creature found that a broad bend in the river created a rock-strewn beach that was big enough for him to land. He flew over the area in large circles several times, making sure there was no one around. He didn’t think he had anything to fear, however, he didn’t want to be surprised.

Satisfied that he was completely alone, Treco landed on the open river bank. He folded his wings and walked to the water’s edge. He took another quick look upstream and down, then lowered his head and drank.

After he had taken his fill, Treco backed away from the swift-flowing current and turned to face the forest a good thirty yards behind him.

For some reason he couldn’t begin to fathom, the sight of the forest made him think of the elf and that led to thoughts of the ranger. He shook his head. He did not want to think about either of them. They had been left behind, and that was where he wanted them to remain.

Turning his head away from the forest, he looked across the river. Of course, there were more trees on that side, too.

Treco closed his eyes, and there on the backs of his eyelids, he saw both of those infuriating creatures, and they were grinning at him, as if they knew something he didn’t. The dragon roared in frustration. They meant nothing to him! So why could he not get them out of his mind?

Treco walked back to the river and drank more water. Maybe he could drown them out of his thoughts. It took only a moment for him to realize that that wasn’t going to work.

As he often did when he was upset or angry about something, Treco raised his head and shot a flame up toward the sky. That didn’t help matters any, either.

Determined to ignore the feelings that were stirring within him, he lifted into the air, intent on flying home with no more thought of the elf and the ranger.

Treco cursed himself mightily when he found that he wasn’t flying toward home at all but back toward Ravenlore.

*~*~*~*

"We can put her in one of the vaults in the dungeon," Ricad said. "However, I don’t have the keys to the doors down there."

Aragorn smiled. "I do. I relieved the guards of them. That’s how I was able to get up here."

"Very good," Ricard said and turned to head down the hall.

Aragorn swung Allaura around so that he was holding her arms from behind. His grip was just as tight as ever. He couldn’t afford to let her get free with a sudden, surprise move.

Ricard headed down the hall, down several flights of stairs and then opened the door to the spiral stairs that would take them down to the dungeon. What better place to put Allaura while they looked for Legolas?

"Can you make it down these steps?" Aragorn inquired of Ricard. He didn’t know if the other man maneuver well enough on one foot and a crutch.

Ricard nodded. "It will be a bit difficult, but I will manage. Just let me go first, so if I stumble, I won’t fall on you."

The going was slow, partly because of Ricard and partly because Allaura tried more than once to get free of Aragorn, and he was forced to stop and shake her until she calmed down enough to continue. Finally, though, all three of them made it safely to the bottom.

As they progressed down the passageway, they found the same thing that Legolas had earlier: all the doors were open.

Aragorn had left from the chamber above where Treco was kept, so he hadn’t needed to go through these doors but figured the guards had left them this way in their haste to find out if he had climbed up through the hole in the ceiling of his vault.

When they came to the first vault door, Aragorn stopped. "This looks like a good place to put her."

Ricard reached the two and also stopped. "Yes, I quite agree."

Holding Allaura extra tightly, Aragorn released one hand long enough to reach into a pocket and pull out the four keys. He handed them to Ricard. "I don’t know which goes to these vaults."

Apparently Ricard also didn’t know which key went to which door, but leaning on his crutch, he took them and tried the first one in the lock. It didn’t turn. The second one didn’t either, but the third one did.

The man unlocked the door and moved out of the way, as he swung it open. With a grin on his face, he swept his left arm toward the dark room. "Your new home, my dear."

Allaura fought against Aragorn, when the ranger advanced to the doorway. She grabbed the doorframe and pushed backward, hoping to break his grip. The result was the same as every other time she had tried something: it didn’t work.

Aragorn shoved her inside. He took hold of the door and quickly closed it, but just before it clanged shut, Allaura yelled, "You cannot leave me here in the dark like this."

"You had no qualms about leaving Legolas and me in the dark." With that Aragorn pulled the door shut and locked it. He handed the key to Ricard.

As Aragorn and Ricard turned to leave, they heard the metal door being pounded on, accompanied by screams of rage. Neither of them felt even the tiniest bit of guilt - or sympathy.

"While we are down here, I would like to see this hole you got out of, if you do not mind." Ricard was trying to figure out how a hole could have gotten in the thick stone ceiling.

With the guards probably dead and Allaura locked up, Aragorn believed that Legolas was safe from any danger, and since the vault he had escaped from was nearby, the ranger decided it would do no harm to satisfy Ricard’s curiosity.

Walking a few feet down the passageway, he stopped at another metal door. "This is where we were held."

The ranger pushed on the partly open door and looked in. He noted that not only was the torch still lit, but light also filtered in from the huge chamber above.

Shocked by the pile of rocks in the center of the room and the large hole above it, Ricard asked, "How did that happen?"

"Treco had a fit and stomped on the floor of his chamber. Impressive, isn't it?"

"Quite," was all Ricard could say, still staring at the ruined vault.

It was then that Aragorn's eye caught a figure sitting in a far corner. "Legolas!" Aragorn shouted. He ran forward, fully expecting his friend to rise and greet him with as much joy as he himself felt.

The elf didn’t move, didn’t glance up or show any sign at all that he recognized the fact that his friend was there and calling his name.

"Legolas." Aragorn reached the elf and grabbed him by the shoulders, hoping to get his attention that way.

There was still no reaction from Legolas. His head was down, but Aragorn saw that his eyes were open. When he followed where it was the elf was looking, he froze. Legolas was staring at Allaura’s necklace.

Aragorn frowned and put his hand over the blue stone. "Legolas, it’s me, Estel."

The elf did react then. He growled at the ranger, jerked the man’s hand free of the necklace and shoved him backward.

Falling back onto the floor, Aragorn’s face registered pure shock.

"He’s enraptured by the stone," came a voice behind Aragorn.

The ranger got up and approached Legolas once more, intending again to try and get through to the elf, but Ricard put a hand on the man’s shoulder. "He will fight you for the stone, if you try to take it from him. He is under its spell."

Turning a troubled face toward Ricard, Aragorn asked, "What can we do to help him?"

"I do not know if anything can be done for him." He looked at the elf sadly and then at the ranger's stricken face. "It may be too late."

TBC