Chapter Eight: Battles joined

The golden-haired figure jumped off his horse and began speaking to three other elves on the village path. The spies in the trees stared at him as if they might, with their very wills, make the elf be anyone but Legolas. But standing next to the horse, it was obvious the rider was not an adult. In fact, none of the figures on the path appeared to be fully grown.

"It cannot be," one of the spies repeated, barely bothering to lower his voice or conceal himself from Dannenion and Dolwon's view as he began to move off towards the village. Fortunately, Dannenion and Dolwon were looking anxiously to the west and did not notice him.

"Where are you going?" another spy whispered, reaching to catch his comrade's tunic to prevent him from leaving.

"To see if that is Legolas. And his cousins," the first spy answered sharply.

"What about Dannenion and Dolwon? And Marti?"

"What about the orcs? If those are the King's son and nephews, we cannot leave them alone in a village about to be attacked by orcs."

"I thought the King said Marti was our priority at any cost."

The spy looked at his companions levelly. "Do either of you honestly believe, even for a moment, that Legolas would be a price the King would be willing to pay? For anything?" He paused and the others were silent. "I am going to see if it is Legolas. Stay here if you prefer."

*~*~*

Thranduil ran through the trees and reached over his shoulder for another arrow. Without slowing his pace, he fit the arrow against his bowstring, drew and released. Another orc fell, but  a mass of them still fled before him. Thranduil reached for another arrow and increased his pace yet again. Too many orcs had escaped their initial trap. He had not been happy when the warriors had been forced to split up while pursuing them, but they had no choice. And he had chased this group a long distance. He could tell from the change in the trees that they were nearing Aradunnon's village. Thranduil was determined to prevent these orcs from entering that village. As determined as he might be, however, realistically Thranduil did not see how he could prevent it. The orcs moved swiftly in the shadowed forest and they still outnumbered the elves, making it very difficult for the warriors with Thranduil cut off their advance.

Ostarndor ran up along side him. "We are approaching the village, my lord. Should I divide the warriors into two lines?"

Thranduil fit the arrow in his hand against his bow, but rather than raising the bow to draw it, he looked at the captain of the Southern patrol. Thranduil obviously recognized the strategy Ostarndor was suggesting--divide the warriors into two lines spaced wide apart at their forward end and with closed ranks at their rear. Such a formation was typically used to contain an enemy and drive it towards another waiting force prepared to trap and destroy them. The problem was, Thranduil did not have another waiting force, unless Ostarndor meant the village.

"The village will be ready, my lord," Ostarndor said, as if reading Thranduil's thoughts. "We sent messengers to warn them of the approaching orcs. They will expect us to use this tactic. We often do if we cannot contain an enemy further south."

"And it works?" Thranduil asked, trying not to sound too skeptical. But he was not certain he wanted to trust villagers to stop this force of orcs.

"Lord Aradunnon's village has never allowed an orc to pass through it. We will be able to stop them if we drive them there, my lord."

Thranduil loosed a long breath and wondered briefly if he was capable of ordering warriors to purposefully drive orcs towards a village that sheltered his wife and his brother's wife. But if that village could arrest the orcs' forward momentum, that might be the best option they had. It was a good tactic and the captain of this patrol was telling him it was one that was often and successfully used. Thranduil would have to trust that, as much as he hated to.

"Divide them into two lines. I will take the western flank. You take the eastern," Thranduil ordered, praying that Lindomiel and Amoneth had already left the village for its new location.

*~*~*

"What am I doing here?" Legolas exclaimed, hands on his hips. "That should be obvious. I am here after you. What do you think you are doing here? You said it would be stupid to go south, but yet you are still here?"

Galithil still stared at his cousin, unable to believe that he had followed him south. But here he was, on one of the horses from the warriors' stable no less, and with a long knife hanging from belt. "Where did you get that knife?" Galithil asked, staring at it enviously.

Legolas ignored the question. "We are going home," he said. "Get on the horse."

Galithil frowned. He was going no where. And Legolas alone could hardly hope to make him. That thought made Galithil frown even harder. "What are you doing here alone? You did not come all the way here alone, did you?" he asked, his voice rising slightly in alarm.

"Yes, I did," Legolas replied." Because I could not convince anyone that you had left the stronghold. I will tell you where I got the knife if you tell me how you got past the Gate Guards. We can talk on the way home."

"No, talk here. We would like to know how Galithil always gets past the guards ourselves," Anastor interjected, casting a sneering look at Galithil.

Galithil grimaced. Anastor and Noruil always quizzed him about that whenever he would sneak out of the stronghold to meet them. How he escaped the stronghold was certainly not something he was telling either Anastor or Legolas. And he was not going to the stronghold either. "How I got out is not your affair," he said, speaking to Anastor. Then he turned to Legolas, prepared to tell him that he was staying in the village and he was not going to let Legolas go home alone. But he did not get the chance.

"It is Legolas," an astonished, but familiar adult voice interrupted their argument.

"Not only Legolas, but Galithil, Anastor and Noruil too," another said, as Legolas and Galithil spun around to face the voices.

"Tulus, what in all of Arda are you doing here?" Legolas exclaimed. Then he glanced at the horse he had taken from the barn, without permission, Galithil guessed. "You did not follow me the entire way here for this horse?"

Tulus loosed a short laugh, which contrasted sharply with the deadly serious expression he wore. He and the two elves with him--Tirithion and Pathon--wordlessly gathered up the children. Tulus grasped Legolas's upper arm with one hand and Galithil's with the other, pulling them both to his side. Tirithion and Pathon each drew one of the other children to them, ignoring their protests and attempts to pull away, and looked to Tulus, apparently for orders.

Galithil frowned at that. Tirithion and Pathon were lieutenants, if only in the training program. The closest Tulus came to commanding warriors was managing their horses while working in the stable. Then he remembered Legolas mentioning to him many years ago that Tulus had once been a captain--but that had been before Oropher was King. Galithil stared at Tulus along with Tirithion and Pathon, waiting for him to say something that might explain what was going on. Legolas was doing the same with a worried expression that made Galithil feel a twinge of guilt. He had never intended for his cousin to share in the trouble he would earn for this excursion.

Tulus said nothing. He looked for a moment at the horse and then at the path that led north. He seemed to be considering something. He was probably considering taking them straight back home, Galithil imagined, and he determined that he would refuse to go. He did not come all this way and earn the type of punishment he was going to get only to learn nothing. He was going to stay and spy on Dannenion and Dolwon. He twisted his arm backwards to free himself and was shocked when Tulus responded by tightening his grasp painfully. The stable master had turned his attention to the sickly trees around them.

"Into the trees," Tulus said, propelling Galithil and Legolas towards the nearest one. He slapped the horse Legolas had ridden south on its rump, sending it fast-trotting northward on the path.

Tirithion followed it with his eyes and took a step closer to Tulus, towing Anastor after him. "I recommend that we take them north. As quickly as we can. They are in too much danger here," he said.

"I considered that," Tulus responded. "But we do not know where the battle is. Some of the orcs might have fled further northwest. If they did, we would meet them alone. At least here we will be with others that are prepared to fight. And if we can make it to the telain the villagers have prepared to fight from, we will have some protection."

Tirithion and Pathon argued no further. They merely nodded and pushed Anastor and Noruil, still complaining, to the nearest tree.

Tulus did the same with Galithil and Legolas. "Up," he said simply, releasing Legolas's arm and gesturing for him to climb into the branches of the tree.

But Legolas was looking at Tulus, not the the tree. "What orcs, Tulus?" he asked.

"The orcs that are about to attack this village," Tulus answered, turning Legolas to face the tree with a hand on his shoulder. "That is what the signal you must have heard a moment ago means. They have spotted the orcs approaching. Up!" he repeated, forcefully.

Galithil looked with wide eyes between his cousin, now climbing the tree, and Tulus. "How many orcs?" he asked as Tulus pushed him in front of the tree. He climbed without protest into the branches and looked sidelong at Anastor and Noruil to see if they were smirking at him for retreating into the trees so readily. They were not. They were climbing ahead of Tirithion and Pathon into their own trees.

"I do not know. Possibly large number," Tulus answered. They were all in the trees and Tulus grasped Legolas and Galithil's arms again to get their attention. He fixed them, along with Anastor and Noruil in the nearby trees, with a very serious look. "We are going straight for that talan," he said firmly, pointing to a flet where Galithil could see a number of elves armed with bows. "Move silently and do nothing to attract attention to yourselves. We do not want to be discovered. These trees do not offer sufficient  protection and they are so low that any orcs armed with bows could certainly reach us here. It is vital that we make it to the talan without being seen. Understood?"

All four children nodded silently.

"Move," Tulus ordered. Anastor, Noruil, Tirithion and Pathon began to creep through the branches towards the talan. Tulus had not released Legolas and Galithil's arms. "You two stay right in front of me and stay together," he ordered. "You will do exactly what I tell you to do, immediately and without question, because your lives may depend on it. Do you understand?"

Galithil glanced at Legolas. His cousin was nodding with a very serious, focused expression, but Galithil saw how he gripped his bow and knew he was frightened. When Tulus looked at him, Galithil nodded quickly and at Tulus's signal, he followed Legolas closely, but he did not feel particularly afraid. After all, he and Legolas had fought the spiders. And they had been alone then. Now they had Tulus and two officers of the training program with them, not to mention a whole village of elves in the flets. And they had not been expecting the spiders, but they knew orcs were coming, so they were completely ready now. Galithil did not think there was that much to worry about.

They had moved through two trees when a shriek like nothing Galithil had ever heard before sounded directly ahead on them, from the other side of the flets. He looked at the archers in the flets and saw them all reaching for another arrow in their quivers. The shriek must have been surprised orcs, not expecting an attack from the trees. Galithil peered at the forest beyond the flets and caught a glimpse of dark figures amongst the trees. Next to him, Legolas stopped, also staring at the trees.

"Hurry," Tulus whispered behind them.

Legolas began moving again, faster than before and Galithil matched his pace.

The sound of arrows striking the flet and the tree that held it began to echo in the forest along with the continued screams of the orcs that coincided with the shadowy figures collapsing to the ground. The orcs directly in the path of the talan stopped and hid behind trees, to better fight the elves. Galithil saw that archers in several other flets along the southern edge of the vilage also stopped the advance of the orcs. But some orcs slipped between the elves' positions, past them and further into the forest. One ran no more than twenty paces to Galithil's left. Another an even shorter distance to his right.  

Their weapons were fascinating, like nothing Galithil had ever seen. Their swords were dull, not the gleaming steel of his father's and uncles' swords. And they were the strangest shape. Likewise, their bows--and not all the orcs carried bows!--were terribly short. Shorter even than the child's hunting bow that Galithil carried. Even more unusual than their weapons was their armor. Galithil had never seen armor before. He knew some armies, even armies of elves, wore it, but his father's warriors did not. The orcs all wore at least heavy leather on their chests, arms and the fronts of their legs. Many of the orcs wore steel. Galithil could not imagine how they fought, so burdened. But for now it seemed he would not find out. They ran as fast as their heavy armor allowed them, without looking up or around themselves at all. Galithil grinned--they were completely panicked. Then the grin faded quickly from his face and his stomach lurched surprisingly. One of the orcs that passed near him carried a sword with a deep, red stain.

The orcs themselves were revolting--as twisted and dark as the trees around them. Their hair was sparse and matted with blood and grime. They bore marks on their skin that looked like places where they had been struck in the past by weapons. And they were positively black. Galithil wondered if their skin was naturally that color or if they were actually so filthy that it had turned that color. Then one passed close enough to make his nose wrinkle involuntarily. They were definitely filthy.

Galithil's study of the orcs was interrupted when the orcs whose escape was blocked by the villagers began to scream even more loudly. Galithil looked towards the flets--they were nearly half way to them--and saw that the orcs fighting the villagers were now popping out from behind the trees, bows in one hand, drawing their swords with the other and completely panicked. Galithil saw the reason why and an excited smile lit his face--elven warriors were advancing from behind the orcs' position and they were led by Galithil's father and brother. Aradunnon led a line of warriors on the western flank of the orcs and Dolgailon led a matching force to their east. The two lines of warriors joined together at the rear of their ranks forming a V and preventing the orcs from escaping back in the direction from which they had come.

'Brilliant!' Galithil thought, looking at his father with a wide grin. Then he glanced at Anastor and Noruil, who were always so critical of Aradunnon, to see if they had noticed the excellent trap his father had designed to catch the orcs. Galithil frowned when he realized Anastor and Noruil had almost certainly not even noticed Aradunnon was present. Their eyes were fixed on the talan and they were moving towards it as quickly as they could find branches sturdy enough to support their weight.

Galithil shook his head and turned his attention back to his father and brother as he followed Legolas. As Aradunnon and the elves with him advanced, they were shooting arrows faster even than Galithil could follow with his eyes. When some of the panicked orcs mastered themselves and returned their attack with arrows of their own, Galithil watched and held his breath, but the elves never hesitated in their march forward. They only altered their positions enough to benefit from the shelter offered by the trees.  

"Hurry!" Tulus urged again and this time he sounded a little panicked himself.

Galithil tried to comply and keep up with Legolas while still keeping an eye on the battle. The orcs were beginning to break the neat ranks they had formed behind the trees to fight the villagers. The majority drew their swords and charged the lines of elves led by Aradunnon and Dolgailon. Galithil's heart raced in anticipation. He had seen his father duel with Dolgailon, Thranduil and Hallion in the past and those matches were amazing to watch. Aradunnon and his guard, Colloth, shouldered their bows and drew their swords. This would not be a mere duel.

As the first orcs crossed swords with his father, Galithil suddenly realized why Tulus was so anxious for them to reach the flet. Rather than charging the line of warriors on the ground, some of the orcs fled in the only direction available to them--towards the flet. Most were stopped by arrows raining down upon them from the flet, but some got through. They would soon run directly under the trees Galithil, Legolas, Anastor and Noruil were in.

Galithil jumped slightly when a hand closed around his upper arm.

"Be perfectly still," Tulus breathed in his ear while pressing him and his cousin against the trunk of the tree and stepping onto the same branch they shared. Galithil looked down quickly at the branch. Many of these trees were not healthy enough to support one elf, much less three. Fortunately this branch seemed thick and sturdy, because Tulus remained on it, so that Galithil and Legolas were sandwiched between him and the trunk of the tree. Galithil scowled and peered around him so he could watch the battle.

Ardadunnon and Colloth stood back-to-back fighting orcs. There were so many around them, that Galithil could barely see them. But he could see orcs steadily falling, only to be replaced by more, desperate to break through the elves' lines and escape. Aradunnon and Dolgailon's lines of warriors were very slowly, but steadily, moving towards each other.

"They are going to cut off the orcs so they cannot escape north either!" Galithil whispered, pleased with himself for figuring out his father's battle plan. "Then they will have them completely trapped and they can finish them."

"Be silent," Tulus whispered sharply.

Galithil frowned. The orcs could not hear him from so far away and even if they could, surely they had also already figured out the trap they were in. Then a surprised screech directly below him made him understand Tulus's command. Galithil tensed and looked down. An orc at the base of the tree was looking directly up at him, Legolas and Tulus. The orc had a bow.

In one fluid motion, Tulus gathered both Galithil and Legolas behind him with one hand and then drew an arrow from his quiver with the same hand. He fit the arrow against his bowstring and drew, but before he could release the arrow, the orc below them crumpled to the ground, an arrow protruding from its neck. Galithil spun his head and looked towards the flet. One of the villagers had shot the orc. Galithil heard Tulus's bow twang and he turned sharply back around. Another orc, one that had apparently heard his comrade squeal when he spotted the elves in the trees, fell to the ground. The arrow the orc had intended to shoot at Tulus flew wildly, but harmlessly, into the trees.

Tulus reached for another arrow and stepped back, pressing Legolas and Galithil against the tree behind them. Galithil found he was having trouble drawing a breath, but it was not because he was sandwiched against the tree. Three or four orcs that had made it past the villagers in the flet were now aiming into the trees. Next to him, Legolas prodded Tulus with his bow.

"We can help," Legolas said and Galithil was impressed that his cousin's voice only shook slightly.

"No. Stay behind me," Tulus ordered. "And keep the tree to your back." He loosed another arrow and another orc fell.

Again, before Tulus could draw another arrow, several more orcs dropped to the ground under them. Galithil looked to see if Tirithion or Pathon had shot them, but they were both busy shooting the orcs beneath their trees. The arrows had come from the flet. Half a dozen elves had moved from the southern-facing side of the flet to the northern-facing side and they were now defending the children in the trees. As the last of the orcs beneath them fell, Galithil was momentarily grateful for their efforts. But even as he heard both his father and brother shouting at the villagers in the flet to control the northern flank of the battlefield, Galithil recognized the problem with villagers' decision to help Tulus defend them--with fewer elves in the flet preventing the orcs from fleeing north, there was now a fairly steady flow of orcs escaping north. And all of them would pass under the trees where Galithil, Legolas, Anastor and Noruil were hidden. The elves in the flet facing north stopped some of them. Tulus, Tirithion and Pathon stopped even more. But some had time to raise their bows and take aim at the elves in the trees. And the withered trees offered precious little protection.

"You have to let us help, Tulus," Galithil said. "There are too many of them."

"Stay where you are," Tulus answered.

Galithil loosed a frustrated sigh and turned his head back to the main battle, trying to determine if his father and brother would be able to close off the orcs or if their numbers were at least finally dwindling enough that fewer of them would be able to get by the villagers. When he did, he saw his father staring, open-mouthed at the tree that Galithil shared with Legolas and Tulus. Aradunnon's sword hung, forgotten, by his side where it had stopped after striking down the orc at his feet. Galithil could hear Colloth shouting at his father to focus, but instead Aradunnon locked gazes with Galithil. Utter horror was in his eyes.

"Aradunnon!" both Colloth and Tulus shouted at once.

Galithil jumped at the sudden cry from Tulus, who had otherwise been almost entirely silent since they climbed into the trees. He took his eyes off his father for a second to look at Tulus. Rather than aiming at the orcs below them, Tulus seemed to be aiming at Aradunnon. Galithil's gaze darted back to his father. Colloth was stepping in front of him. Two orcs were charging Aradunnon with their swords raised.

"Ada!" Galithil screamed, but Aradunnon seemed unaware of the orcs closing on him. He was still focused on Galithil and had begun to turn to run towards him.

The first orc charging Colloth and Aradunnon brought its sword down, but Colloth was prepared for the blow. He deflected it with his own raised sword, but the force of the orc's downswing drove Colloth's blade to the ground. He could not parry the second orc's attack. It fell on his shoulder, cutting deep and driving Colloth to his knees. Tulus's bow twanged and the first orc fell next to Colloth. His bow twanged again. Galithil's heart stopped. The second orc was still raising its blade. From his peripheral vision, Galithil saw an orc below them drop and he nearly fell from the branch when the orc's arrow sank into the trunk above their heads. But Galithil's eyes remained fixed on his father. Aradunnon was still staring at him in the tree. The second orc charging him had his sword raised.

*~*~*

Talan/telain--Flet/flets (houses in the trees that the elves live in)
Adar/ada--Father/dad