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All Those Who Wander  by daw the minstrel

The Captain and the Body Guard—Missing Scene 2

The orc's stench seared Eilian's nostrils.  Its wide mouth parted over a thick red tongue and yellow fangs, and the muscles in its arms bulged as it struggled to slide its scimitar off Eilian's blade.

Eilian's arms trembled.  For a slice of an instant, his vision blurred, and he watched himself from far overhead, somewhere safe in green shade, battling with this orc, or was it the one he had killed a moment ago, or perhaps the one from last night?

A bead of sweat stung his left eye.  With a shout, he heaved the creature away from him, swung his sword in a whistling arc, and drove it into the orc's neck.  Black blood gushed down Elian's arm.  Surprise flickered in the orc's yellow eyes.  It sagged, and he yanked his sword free of its weight and spun, searching for prey.

At his back, Maltanaur turned with him.  Around them, the warriors of the Southern Patrol surged among the trees.  Gelmir drove his blade into a retreating orc's back, and it took Eilian a moment to realize that orc had been the only one still on its feet.

Sórion appeared at his side.  "Are you all right, Captain?"

"How do I look to you?" Eilian snapped.  Sórion's face became impassive, and Eilian clamped his mouth shut.  He drew a long breath.  "Did we get them all?"

"Two managed to slip away," the lieutenant said.  "I sent four warriors after them."

Eilian frowned in the direction Sórion pointed.  "Maltanaur and I will go too."

"No."  Maltanaur's voice was pleasantly calm.  "If four Elves can not take care of two orcs, then the novice masters need to grovel at the king's feet.  If you and I went, that would just be taking unfair advantage, and we would not want that, would we?"

Eilian tried to smile at the feeble joke.  Maltanaur was probably right.  His warriors would dispose of the two who escaped.  And even if Maltanaur were wrong, what did it matter?  More orcs would come tomorrow, if not these two, then others.

Maltanaur slapped him on the back.  "We will leave a crew to dispose of the bodies while we go back to camp."

Eilian frowned.  He ordinarily stayed until his entire patrol was ready to head home.  But Sórion was already pointing to half-a-dozen warriors, indicating they should start collecting the corpses.  Maltanaur left his hand on Eilian's back and started toward camp.  Eilian gave a single glance backward and let himself be steered.  Sórion had things in hand, and no one else seemed surprised the lieutenant was directing the clean up.

It was not yet dawn when he and Maltanaur entered the patrol's campsite.  The two warriors he had left on guard duty shot them a quick look and then turned their attention back to the forest around them.

"I will see what is to be had to eat," Maltanaur said.

Eilian dragged himself to where his bedroll was laid out.  He unbuckled his scabbard and dropped to the ground with a grunt, then leaned over, grabbed his pack, and fumbled in it for the cloth he used to clean his sword.  With care, he set to removing every drop of black blood from his blade.

The smooth slide of steel under his hand was soothing.  He had done this task hundreds of times.  And would probably do it hundreds more, he thought suddenly.  Thousands more.  Forever.  Or rather until Sauron drove them back step by step, tree by tree in defeat.

His mouth twisted.  Whine away, he jeered at himself.  That will certainly help.

He continued cleaning his sword, trying to think of some tactic he might use to stem the flow of orcs ever further north, but his brain felt slow and distracted, and his thoughts spun in tight little repetitious circles.

The rest of the patrol streamed out of the trees.  Sórion spotted Eilian and came to stand a yard or so away from him.  Eilian raised an eyebrow.

"We caught the other two and burned all the bodies."  Sórion's face was still unreadable.

Eilian felt a twinge of guilt.  He should not have snapped at his lieutenant.  "Good.  Good job."

Sórion's shoulders loosened a little.

Eilian nodded toward the fire, where Maltanaur had dug out the leftovers from the meal they ate before they set off on patrol.  Eilian's warriors were gathered around him, helping themselves.  "Get something to eat."

Sórion put his hand over his heart, then obeyed.  The patrol members scattered into small groups to eat.  Gelmir hesitated but then joined two other warriors on the far side of the campsite.  It occurred to Eilian that his patrol had carefully skirted around him, leaving him all by himself in a circle of isolation.  Well, he could scarcely blame them.  He was exhausted and in a bad temper, as he had been far too often lately.  If he had any choice, he would not have sat with himself either.

Maltanaur approached, bearing two plates of cold venison.  When he extended one, Eilian shook his head.

"I am not hungry.  I think I just need some sleep."  He lay back on the bedroll and flung his arm over his eyes to block Maltanaur from his sight.  He should take off his boots, he thought.  He waited for Maltanaur to go away so he could do it.

Maltanaur's voice said, "Walk with me, Eilian."

Eilian cracked one eye open to find that his keeper had set the plates on the ground and stood waiting for him.  "Not now."

"Now."

Behind Maltanaur, Eilian glimpsed Gelmir and Sórion watching them.  He grimaced and struggled to his feet.  Judging from the hard line of Maltanaur's mouth, this conversation should take place in whatever privacy they could find.

Maltanaur led the way into the trees, and Eilian followed, so tired that his feet scuffed in the dead leaves. 

"What is so important that you have to drag me from my bed?"

Maltanaur drew a deep breath.  "You need to go home."

"What?"

"You need to go home.  Today.  As soon as it is light."

Eilian's gut tightened.  "Did a message come while we were away?  Is something wrong at home?"

Maltanaur raised his hands and patted the air.  "No.  Not that I know of, at any rate."

Eilian breathed again.  "What then?"

Maltanaur's brows drew down.  "Are you really so dense?  Surely it has occurred to you that you have shadow sickness."

"Of course I have shadow sickness. So do you.  So does everyone here to some degree.  Mine will ease when I go home on leave next month."

Maltanaur shook his head.  "You will not make it to next month, Eilian.  You are behaving more and more recklessly every night.  Tonight I was unsure if it mattered to you whether you or that last orc survived."

Eilian froze.  Had it mattered to him?

Maltanaur put a hand on Eilian's shoulder.  "Listen to me, son.  Get the wool out of your ears and listen.  You need to be away from the shadow for a while, and you need to see the healers."

Eilian licked his lips.  His heart fluttered with a sudden longing to be home.  But how could he go and leave his patrol to keep fighting when they too were exposed to the shadow?  How could he give in like that and ignore his duty?  He pictured his father's face, dark with disapproval, and pulled away.  "I cannot."

He started back to the campsite, but Maltanaur caught his arm in a painfully strong grip.  "You can, and you will."

Eilian drew his head back.  Maltanaur sounded almost angry.

"I will not stand by and watch you destroy yourself," Maltanaur said.  "You are going home if I have to tie you up and drag you."

"You can make the attempt."  Eilian tried to yank free, but Maltanaur's fingers tightened.

"I would not have to do it alone.  Do you think I am the only one worried about you?"

Eilian thought about the look he had seen on Gelmir's face, and in his head heard Sórion asking him if he was all right after the battle.  He flinched.  Did everyone in the patrol think him unfit for duty?

Maltanaur leaned closer.  "You are going home, Eilian.  Accept it."

Eilian glared at his keeper, but Maltanaur did not so much as blink.  Astonishment flared at the back of Eilian's head.  He had no choice.  He was going home.  For a shameful instant, he was flooded by relief so intense that his knees weakened.

Maltanaur must have felt it because his grip eased fractionally, and he helped Eilian to sit beneath a stunted maple.  He dropped to the ground next to him.  "You have done enough," he said gently.  "For now, you have done enough.  Darkness still spreads, I know, but you do not have to lose yourself in it.  Trees flourish at home, and there are people there who love you and can help you."

Eilian shook his head.  It would not be enough.  He was beyond help, beyond hope.  They all were, only the rest of them did not know it yet.  They had failed.  He wrapped his arms around his knees and put his head down on them.  "I am so sorry."

To his horror, his voice broke.

Maltanaur put his arm around Eilian's shoulders.  "You have nothing to be sorry for.  No one could have done more than you have done."

Eilian shuddered, and Maltanaur pulled him closer.  Black despair swept over Eilian, like the orc's blood gushing down his arm.  He could not help himself.  He laid his head on Maltanaur's shoulder and wept.

"Shh," Maltanaur murmured.  "Shh."  Rocking slightly, he put his hand on the back of Eilian's head.  "It will be all right.  I promise it will be all right."

Eilian dug his fingers into Maltanaur's sleeve and held on.  It will be all right, he told himself desperately.  I will go home as soon as it is light.  He clung to Maltanaur and waited for the dawn.





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