Chapter 24 - Golden leaves

Deep in the valley before them, where the land sloped down gently, was the grey shadow of a forest. And there grew trees of the like he had never before laid eyes on in Middle Earth. He was not one for admiring trees of any sort, he was content to leave that to the Elves, but these trees were so unusual, with their straight grey trunks and almost golden leaves, that Gimli's eyes were caught by their unnatural beauty.

It had been hours since they had emerged from the mines, and the sun had almost disappeared beneath the horizon, yet still they feared pursuit. Gimli was uneasy. He had not felt less sure of himself, or his mission, since he had dwelt within Elrond's house. The thought of traversing the realm of the Lady, of whom he had heard mysterious stories, disturbed him greatly.

"There is naught to fear within Her borders, my friend," Legolas had assured him. "She is as wise as she is beautiful." Gimli's still doubtful look caused Legolas to smile. "You will understand when you meet her."

Gimli's feelings of unease were not all due to the thought of entering the haven of the Elves, nor the host of Orcs Aragorn suspected to be at their backs. There was something inside himself that made him cringe with shame. He would never see himself in the same light again. He had let his axe fall when facing the Balrog. He had failed to lead the fellowship to safety across the bridge. Worst of all, he had not been fast enough to prevent Pippin from coming to harm. Aragorn and Faramir had been left with the decision, and for this, he doubted he would ever forgive himself.

The silence of his companions was almost unbearable to Gimli, and he knew it was his duty to try and raise their spirits.

He came up alongside Aragorn and looked up into his friend's face. "I would say our pursuers have given up the hunt!"

The lines on Aragorn's forehead deepened. "I would agree with you, Gimli, were it not for a strange feeling I have had for some time now. I am sure we are not alone."

"We have seen no sign of pursuit. What is there to fear?" Gimli was putting on a cheerful, Dwarvish confidence he did not feel.

Plainly Aragorn was not convinced. "We may reach the eaves of the Golden Wood within the hour. I only hope there will not be time enough for any enemy who is pursuing us to lessen our lead and come between us and Lothlorien."

"Surely," Gimli began, surprised by the idea, "the Orcs of Moria would not think of such a strategy. It is true Orcs have been known to travel many leagues to avenge their losses, but we have seen no sign of them since we left the mines!"

"The trees of the border are in sight, though it is more than five leagues through to the forest to the gate. I would speak to Legolas on this. His eyes and ears are sharp, while yours and mine can be easily deceived." Aragorn turned then, leaving Gimli to lead the party alone.

The position was uncomfortable for him, as it reminded him of their exit from the mines. Gimli was also reluctant to be the first to pass into the Golden Wood, though none of the others seemed to share his concern.

The Hobbits went where they were led, objecting to nothing Aragorn suggested. Pippin and Merry were already dwelling on the thought of food and rest. Legolas and Aragorn were eager to enter the forest under the protection of the Elves. Even Faramir, who Gimli had thought of as one who would have seen sense, had looked ahead with a kind of boyish wonder.

"To think, Gimli," he had said, forgetting for a moment the pain of his wounds, "we will see her, the Lady that dies not! Strange tales, some evil, are told in Gondor about the Lady of the Wood. Though I believe such an ancient being would have to hold wisdom beyond the mortal mind."

"What then do you think of Saruman?" Gimli retorted. "Is he not one of the eldest of Middle Earth? Yet now we see that his long years have brought him only corruption and greed!"

"Do not forget, Gimli, that Saruman was great and noble before desire for power touched his heart," Faramir said gravely. Gimli felt himself almost convinced by the earnest words. "I cannot fault him. We all face trials..."

"Yet not all pass the test," Gimli finished.

As the shadowy form of the forest grew nearer, the wind died down, and their footsteps seemed almost loud. Simply breathing disturbed the quiet movement of the golden leaves in the still air. A strange feeling of enchantment crept over each of them, and Gimli felt his skin prickling in fear at the sensation. He kept his hand firmly on the hilt of his axe. He could now feel what Aragorn had been speaking of. Despite the feeling of the wood, something was not right.

The Fellowship had unconsciously drawn closer together, the Hobbits concealed between the tall forms of the two men and the Elf.

Suddenly Gimli felt a rush of air against his cheek, and had no time to comprehend just how close to death he had been. Hefting his axe with a shout, he turned and fixed his eyes in a haze of anger and surprise on the small group of Orcs that had been pursuing them. There were less than a dozen, but to the weary fellowship, there might have been hundreds.

They retreated under the covering fire of Legolas, and felt themselves forced back towards the forest border. 

Aragorn raised his sword, his hand on Frodo's shoulder, ushering the Hobbit behind him, nearer to the trees. "Quickly! Get beneath the trees!" But as he turned towards the safety of the forest, he staggered, almost falling to his knees. Gimli moved to help him, the arrow that had grazed Aragorn's leg trampled under his feet, and he caught his friend's shoulder. He sucked in a breath, realising that the first group of Orcs had not been the ones who had fired the arrow. 

Raising his eyes to the forest border they had been making for, it seemed to the Dwarf's frantic eyes that the silver trunks of the mallorns had suddenly grown black and thick. Twisted, moving shapes coming closer and closer. The Orcs were closing their trap from both sides! How could this have happened? Orcs came from the left and right of the path ahead, closing off their only road to the wood.

Gimli tightened his grip on his axe, turning his back protectively on the Hobbits, facing outwards. But it was hopeless. Gimli saw that the sun had slipped below the horizon, yet more Orcs would be spilling from the mines in pursuit. How cruel, he thought, that they had been filled with hope after escaping the mines, only to perish here in sight of safety!

With Faramir and Pippin injured, and Aragorn hindered by the fresh arrow wound, there would be no escape! The Orcs would surely destroy them. But Gimli was determined to take as many of the foul creatures with him as possible!

With a mighty shout, he hacked at the first Orc that came in range, feeling the strange weight of the axe he had found in Moria after his own had been shattered. It was a heavy blade, but true, and Gimli relished the sound of metal slicing through flesh as the Orc fell before him. More came, enough to satisfy even Gimli's thirst to spill blood. On every side the creatures pressed in upon them, attacking with a vengeance that could only come from the need for revenge.

With a wide sweep of his weapon, Gimli tried to take in the positions of the others. Legolas was back to back with him. He was resorting to his knives as the Orcs moved closer. Faramir was to his right, wielding Gandalf's sword, as his own had been lost in the mines. With the eye of a skilled warrior, Gimli could see that a blade of such breadth was not the man's preferred weapon. Aragorn was to his left, fighting with a desperation Gimli had rarely seen. 

Gimli could almost feel the breath of the creatures who attacked them now as the circle grew smaller and the space for fighting all but disappeared.

As he plunged his axe into the neck of another black creature, he heard shouts from behind and the harsh sound of Orc voices.

He turned in time to see the sword smashed from Faramir's hand as the man knelt on the grass, holding his left arm to his chest. One of the Orcs had Merry by the arm, and was pressing a knife to his throat. Gimli swallowed, feeling an angry flush rise to his face, hiding his fear. In another moment, Aragorn's sword was lowered to the grass with a soft thud, followed quickly by the weapons of the remaining Hobbits.

Gimli cast a side-long glance at Legolas, seeing what he would do. The Elf lowered his bow very slowly, allowing it to be taken into the hands of an Orc. Gimli followed very reluctantly, making the Orc wrench the weapon from his grasp.

Then as the Orcs laughed, a harsh, evil sound, Gimli saw Legolas wince. He made a note that if they ever escaped this nightmare he would think up something witty to say about the Elf's sensitive hearing.

The Orc holding Merry released him slowly, letting the Hobbit stumble back to Pippin, Sam and Frodo, very relieved. The Orc then lifted its rusted sword, disregarding the Hobbits as if they were little more than children. It motioned to Legolas with the tip of his sword, forcing the Elf to step away from his defensive position before the two men and to stand with Gimli.

Gimli tried to shake off the Orcs who grabbed his arms, then yelled out loud when the large Orc swung its boot into Aragorn's shin, bringing the man to his knees. Gimli tried again to escape as he saw the blood that trickled from Aragorn's lip where he had bitten it to stifle a cry. The blow to his shin must have been in the same place the arrow had struck him. And the Orc knew it.

It grinned down at the two men, shifting its sword from one to the other as it spoke, "You longhairs didn't expect this!"