Chapter Twelve-- Of Knives and Ghosts

After their lunch up in the tree and the odd and yet compelling incident that followed, the group had continued their journey at a relaxed and enjoyable pace.  As the sun made its way to the very horizon on the westward sky, Legolas called a halt to the procession, guiding his steed off of the dirt road and into a small grove of tender saplings near the stream that they had been following.

The further southwest the group had traveled, the lighter the snow cover had become, until at last, there was none left to speak of.  The air was still chill and laden with wispy grey clouds, but they had entered a part of the southern lands that rarely received much precipitation, mostly due to the fact that the towering mountains beyond them often broke the heavy clouds and gluttonously drank all of the rain or snow before it could reach the grasslands.

After dismounting among the trees, the group stretched their cramped limbs and began to unburden their four-legged traveling companions. 

“How much further?” Hyelif asked as he helped Imlara untie the tight knot he had secured her pack with.

Legolas peered off into the horizon, which was now nearly pitch black, dark enough that the young boy was certain he could see nothing.  Legolas turned back to him promptly and smiled.  “We are only another half-day’s ride from the Serni.”

“You can’t see it from here can you?”  Hyelif was now squinting his eyes, glaring tediously in the direction the elf had just scanned.

A low and breathy chuckle was Hyelif’s reply.  “No Young Sir, not even I can see through the rock and dirt of these rolling plains.  However, I can see the mountains that back the river Gilraen, which is only a short ways beyond the river Serni.”

“So you CAN see that far!  You just can’t see the river!” 

It was not a question, but still Legolas nodded.  “I can very nearly see the fish jumping!” 

Hyelif gasped at this but quickly fell silent, blushing in chagrin at his foolish naivety.  “You cannot…” he mumbled.

Legolas bowed his head in apology.  “No, I cannot.  But I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”

Hyelif rolled his eyes at that and turned back to Imlara, who was staring strangely at Legolas.  “Don’t believe him, Lara, he likes to fool us.”

Imlara did not respond, but rather continued staring at the elf, whose back was now turned to her as he conversed with Gimli.  Hyelif noticed her rapt attention and nudged her ribs with his elbow.  She quickly snapped back to attention and bowed her head, yet it did little to hide the blush on her cheeks.  Hyelif rolled his eyes again.

*          *          *

Imlyana coaxed the last of the potatoes from the fire pit, being careful not to scorch her hands as she dug with a short stick to uncover them in their shallow grave of sand beneath the flames.  The potatoes were warm and soft, and those sitting around the fire accepted them gratefully onto their tin plates, being careful not to burn their fingers as they dusted the sand form their meals.  The dried venison that supplemented their dinner was still tasty enough, though Legolas wasn’t the only one in the group who was looking forward to setting up a base camp the next day and subsequently hunting for some tender rabbit meat. 

Hyelif had been in somewhat of a surly mood since Legolas’s ‘fooling’ of him earlier that evening, and in an attempt at reconciliation, Legolas set down his plate and pulled his hunting knife out of his supple leather boot.  “Do you suppose you can hold onto this for me?” 

He held the knife right in front of Hyelif’s face, which the young boy accepted hesitantly with a look of curiosity and confusion.  “But I’ve got my own…”

Legolas held out his hand.  “Let’s see it.”

Hyelif pulled a small knife out if his own boot and handed it to Legolas.  The hilt was about as long as Legolas’s index finger, and was made out of pounded tin.  The blade was made of dulled obsidian, and badly needed to be re-knapped. 

“Ai, ‘tis a good knife, but with your help at setting snares tomorrow, I’m hoping to bring in a fair amount of game, and you’ll be needing a slightly larger knife to keep up with the cleaning.” 

Hyelif looked exited at this, though both of his sisters wrinkled their noses in distaste.  “You’ll let me set the snares?”

“Of course,” Legolas laughed, “You are the expert, after all.” 

Hyelif raised his head and straightened his back.  “I AM rather good at it.  Father says I may be able to sell some of our furs soon enough.  He says we certainly have more than we need.”

Legolas nodded his head in recognition and pocketed Hyelif’s tin knife.  Hyelif saw this and quickly looked down at the previously unheeded weapon in his hands.  “Wow, an elvish dagger!” 

Gimli let out a strangled cry at this.  “’Tis of Dwarvish make, boy!”  Hyelif glanced at Legolas who merely nodded his head with a slight smile on his lips.  Gimli continued.  “Aye, even the great Elf King must sometimes rely on the unrivaled craftsmanship of the Dwarves.” 

Hyelif continued inspecting the dagger which was about ten inches long, with a short handle made of Mumakil tusk, and a blade that shone brighter than the stars over their heads.  “It even has these pretty rocks in the handle!”

Gimli nearly choked on his food.  “Pretty rocks!  Those are priceless gems from the quarries of Erebor!  Why, those ‘rocks’ probably cost King Thranduil more gold than your entire settlement is worth!”

Hyelif looked slightly intimidated, though nowhere near apologetic.  “It’s a lot nicer than mine, that’s for sure.”  He then turned frantically to the elf.  “But what if you need your knife?  Mine isn’t nearly good enough for you!”

Legolas smiled and jumped up quickly, making his way over to his pack where he procured a bundle wrapped in a thin hide.  He carried this bundle over to the fire and set it down in front of the boy, nodding his head in an indication that the boy should open it.

Hyelif carefully opened the package, his eyes growing large as he glimpsed the twin White Knives that lay inside.  “Oh…” he sighed, carefully picking one up and laying the slender blade across his arm.  “These look deadly!”

Legolas nodded his head, only a slight amount of alarm in his eyes.  “They are deadly-- razor sharp and swift.”

“May I?” Imlyana asked quietly of Legolas as she leaned over the bundle. 

Legolas nodded and watched as she proceeded to pick up the other knife.  She twirled it around a few times, testing its weight and balance.  She then held it closer to the firelight.  “It’s so beautiful-- not nearly as intricate as the Dwarvish blade, but I think it is just as stunning in its simplicity.” 

Gimli actually nodded in approval at that, much to the surprise of all but Legolas, who understood his friends’ thinking. 

“I’ve seen those blades at work, friends,” Gimli explained.  “They sing to you as they dance-- a song of utter destruction, yet also of beauty and life.  As long as the right hands hold them, they are a mighty ally.”

Hyelif looked reverently at the blade in his hand.  He then set it back down reverently upon the hide.  Imlyana did the same after a few more practiced twirls.  Legolas nodded in appreciation and wrapped the blades back inside the soft hide.

“You have greater skill with a blade than is requisite of women,” Legolas said to Imlyana as she set about gathering the empty tins lying around the fire. 

Imlyana smiled appreciatively.  “My father would never let me pick up anything other than a kitchen knife.  He said that he was the one who should be doing the protecting, and that I should have no need of such a weapon.  So I used sticks instead.  This is actually the first time I’ve been able to handle a real knife.”

“Except for mine,” Olihre pointed out rather dryly, but with obvious humor.

“Well, yours hardly counted.” Imlyana began facetiously, but upon seeing the warning looks that the others were giving her, quickly amended.  “I mean, it’s not long enough-- I wouldn’t be able to twirl it.”  After another short pause, “I’m not that good yet.”

Legolas looked at Olihre who was sitting rather stiffly.  When he spoke though, it was in a tone of ease and reconciliation.  “My father must not have had twirling in mind when he gave it to me.”   

“Oh…” Imlyana said as she realized the near disaster that she had barely averted.  “It was a nice dagger, if I remember correctly.  Wasn’t the handle made of leather?  It was very soft.”

Olihre smiled at the ramblings of the quite obviously uncomfortable girl.  Nodding his head reassuringly, he said, “It’s a nice knife, but it was only one of my father’s old ones.  I’m sure he meant to give me a better one at some point in time…probably when I was older.  I guess he hadn’t planned on…”

Olihre stopped short, realizing that he had veered into troublesome territory without meaning to, and much to his humiliation, all in the group nodded their heads in obvious pity.  Imlyana, who had settled at Olihre’s right, put her hand atop of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze, which only served to make Olihre blush furiously and feel even more ridiculous.  Not knowing what to say, he simply sat there, his eyes darting back and forth between his companions, nervously.  Gimli surrendered his pity quickly and gave the young man a suggestive smirk. 

Olihre felt himself grow even hotter.  “Uh…I’m going to go…uh…gather more firewood.”  As casually as possible, Olihre stood and let his hand slide away from Imlyana’s, who sat looking as if nothing strange were happening at all.  Imlara looked at her with obvious distain, while Hyelif simply rolled his eyes.  Legolas astutely avoided eye contact, while Gimli winked with glee at the forward young lady.

*          *          *

The next morning was rather miserable.  A cold rain had swept down from the mountains sometime during the night and caught the group unaware.  All but Legolas, who looked annoyingly put together, whilst the rest of them largely resembled drowned rats.  Their bed rolls had been soaked throughout the night, as had their clothing and packs.  The horses looked distinctly disgruntled, and the mood in the group wasn’t much better.

They ate a cold breakfast of hard biscuits as they could not start a fire of any sort, and then mounted their sodden steeds and were off with haste.  Little conversation was heard as the group solemnly trudged onwards.  Imlara leaned across her mare and fell asleep against its gently bobbing neck.  Legolas rode up astride to her and draped his grey cloak across her slumbering form, helping to keep much of the rain from making its way down the back of her dress, which her hair was no longer protecting. 

Imlyana smiled at this and nodded her head in thanks to the elf, who returned her smile warmly and then turned to chat with Hyelif.  Gimli made his way over to Imlyana then and began a polite conversation, which Olihre listened in on unashamedly, since he rode directly behind them.

After a few hours, Legolas held his hand up as an indication to halt.  The group did so, peering about themselves to see what may be the matter.  Ahead of Legolas they found that the main road continued on, while a less developed one strayed off to the right.

“Here is where we will part for a small while,” Legolas announced, peering down the lesser road with a purpose.

“Part?” Olihre repeated with an air of trepidation.  “For what reason?”

Legolas smiled reassuringly.  “We need fresh meat, but this weather is miserable and I do not wish to expose the ladies to it any longer than necessary.  Hyelif and Gimli and I will take the long way to our destination, trapping amongst the hills as we go.  You, Olihre, will guide the ladies to our base camp.”

“But I don’t know where our base camp is-- I’ve never been here before…”

“Worry not.  The only settlement between here and Dol Amroth is our destination.  If you follow the road until the sun is nearly at its peak, you will arrive there.  There is no way to miss it.”  Legolas seemed thoughtful for a moment, and then continued.  “It is a deserted settlement-- a ghost town.”

A chill fiercer than the rain fell upon the group at that moment, though none were entirely sure why.  Gimli looked more subdued than usual and glanced wearily at Legolas.  “Do not worry,” Legolas admonished, “It was deserted by its occupants when the men of Harad went about ravishing the area.  The land has since healed, though none have yet reclaimed the settlement.”

“If you deem it safe, I will lead them there.”  Olihre seemed less confident than his words belied. 

“Of course it is safe.”  Legolas left it at that and spurred his horse forward again, motioning for Hyelif and Gimli to join him.  “There are several deserted buildings; they are not in the greatest repair, but they may offer more shelter than the trees.”  At that, he turned his horse and faded amongst the mist and shadows of the trees.  The other two were quickly out of sight as well, which left Olihre feeling strangely exposed.

Imlara looked frightened, and turned to her sister for guidance.  Imlyana was also somewhat at a loss for sentiments or words, but looked cheerfully at her sister and gave her an almost convincing smile.  She then turned back to Olihre and searched his countenance for any signs betraying his true feelings.

Olihre looked back at her for a moment, temporarily gaining solace in the thought that he was not completely alone in his new responsibilities.  He quickly pushed that thought from his head though, telling himself that he most certainly was.  She may not act like a proper woman, but she is one, and now she and Imlara are my responsibility. Setting his jaw resolutely, he turned his horse towards the greater rode and set off.   I will not hide behind her.