I was fifty years old when the event that was to change my life forever happened.

Two Rivers was all a-stir preparing to welcome Arathorn son of Arador home. He had completed his fosterage in the hidden valley of Rivendell, and would return home, a young Man just come of age, ready to take up his duties among the Rangers.

We had heard from him from time to time, usually by way of messages sent through Elladan and Elrohir, but we were all eager to see him again, and to see what changes time had wrought in our friend.

Oriel, who was now sixteen, had made a new frock for the occasion, and if as it seemed, she wished to draw the eye of a certain young Ranger by the name of Nethon, then that would simply be a side benefit. Her mother and grandmother were quite amused by it all. Her father was not sure how to take it, for though he liked Nethon well enough, he was unsure about him as a son-in-law.

As for me, I thought her far too young to be playing at such games. She was only sixteen, which in the Shire would not even be halfway to coming-of-age! She teased me about my attitude, reminding me that hobbits grow up more slowly, but I am afraid it did not much mollify me.

At any rate, all was quite festive when on the first day of Spring, Elladan and Elrohir rode through the front gate of Two Rivers, a tall and dark-haired young stranger between them--for he did seem at first a stranger, riding so regally there and clad in finer garments than he had ever worn at home. But as he spotted his family, he gave a grin and a wave, and there I saw him, my brother Thorn, that old mischief in his eyes and laughter on his lips.

We allowed the crowd to mill about him, giving him their cheers. When he had enough-- and I could see his patience wearing thin-- Elladan and Elrohir waved the well-wishers off, and Thorn dismounted and loped over to his family's arms. He grabbed Oriel up by the waist and swung her around, and then to my astonishment, he grabbed me up as well and gave me a fierce embrace. "I missed you, Trotter! There was so much there you would have liked to see!!"

"I missed you as well, Thorn. But pray put me down! You may have grown into a great gangly lummox," I laughed, "but I am no faunt to be tossed about like a poppet!" I tried to sound cross, but I am afraid I did not fool him.

He laughed once more and put me down, and turned to embrace his parents and grandparents in a more dignified fashion.

There was a feast to celebrate the return, held that night on the green; however, it did not last late into the night, for we were to leave on patrol the next morning.

The next day dawned full of promise. Thorn would not lead this patrol, but he would be Dirhael's second. Archer would be joining us, as well as Lefty and Red and Nethon, and the sons of Elrond would join us also. We were to head north, and up in the direction of the Ettenmoors. I had never been in these lands before. We had no particular objective this time; Arador and Argonui wanted Arathorn's first mission to be a quiet one, and nothing untoward had been heard from that area in some years, although no patrol had been there for at least three years. We headed out in high spirits, and I rode next to Thorn and listened to him tell me of Rivendell and the Elves and of Lord Elrond, who was a great master of lore.

All was well enough until we had crossed the Last Bridge and turned North. It was a barren and desolate area, and unpopulated for the most part. There had often been rumours of the creatures called Trolls in the hills further North-- thus the name of the area-- but none had been seen for many years. And further North still, was Mount Gram, rumoured to be the haunts of goblins-- even I recognized that name! It was said that the goblins who invaded the Shire in the days of my Great-great-uncle Bandobras had come from there. But all of that lay many leagues further away than we planned to foray.

Still, something was disquieting as we rode further. The sons of Elrond were very uneasy, though they had yet to give voice to the source of their unease.

We had been ten days on patrol when Dirhael decided to stop where we were for a day. "I think that we need to know more of what lies ahead. Archer and I will set up a temporary base here." He turned to the Elves. "my Lords, if you would scout to the North-east?"

They nodded.

"And Thorn, you, Trotter and Nethon will scout to the North-west. Go no further than you can report back before sunset. I have misgivings about any of us being separated at nightfall."

We also nodded, and made ready to leave as soon as we had finished a quick breakfast. I led the way. We did not take our mounts. My pony now was named Honey-- she was a lovely little mare. I had put Porridge out to pasture a couple of years ago, as he was getting a bit long in the tooth. But for scouting it was best to go on foot. We spread out, but remained within sight of one another.

We had gone less than half a league when Thorn called me. "Look, Trotter!"

Nethon and I hastened to his side. There was a footprint unlike one I had seen before: the mark of a very large, very heavy boot, the marks of iron nails clear to be seen. Perhaps, I thought, we've found another nest of brigands. But what would brigands be doing in such a bleak and isolated land? Surely there would be no travellers to prey upon out here. So far as I knew, not even shepherds came this far.

Thorn looked at me, and I saw a look of dawning dread on his face. "I've never seen it myself, but I have heard it described often enough. Trotter, I fear this is the track of-- an Orc."

My eyes widened. "Do you really think so?"

"I am not certain, but-- " He did not finish, but I read more certainty than I could have hoped in his distressed expression. This was part of the lore he had been sent to Rivendell to learn.

"What should we do?" Nethon asked.

I looked to Thorn as well.

He frowned, but said "They do not like the sunlight-- they will be holed up somewhere close by until after dark."

I glanced around me at the rugged terrain. "There could be a cave nearby."

"We have to find out."

I felt a chill run down my spine, but I agreed. This time the three of us did not spread out, but stayed close together, although we tried to move carefully and stayed close to the ground. It was not long before we found more signs, and knew we were going in the right direction.

Soon we found more signs that we were near what we sought. Hiding behind a large rock, I peered around. About half a furlong from us, we could hear the sound of running water-- there appeared to be a cleft in the ground, where a large stream or small river coursed. Just beyond it we could see a tor in which there was a cave, about halfway up.

There was a rather twisted and gnarled solitary tree growing on this side of the water, and I studied it carefully. Something was there, huddled in the shade. Was it just a trick of shadow, or…there was clearly movement, with no breeze to account for it.

"It must be a lookout," I said in dismay.

The three of us exchanged glances. We needed to alert the others, and we would need to catch them by surprise if we could. A lookout could alert them, and we knew not how many of the enemy we would face.

Thorn pursed his lips and studied the situation. Finally he turned to us. "Nethon, you go back. Tell Dirhael and the others what we have found. We must deal with this problem before the sun goes down."

Nethon nodded, and sprinted back the way we had come. It was perhaps, about an hour past noon, if my growling stomach was anything to go by. If Dirhael and the others hurried, we might very well be able to deal with this menace in the daylight.

We watched. As the Sun made her journey West, the shade of the tree altered, and we watched the huddled creature move with the shade.

Thorn looked at me and whispered, "I think I can reach it without it seeing me. If I can take it out before it raises an alarm, it will be far easier to deal with the others."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Trotter, as long as he is there, we cannot get any closer."

"We should wait for Dirhael and the others."

Thorn shook his head, "No. They may not be able to stay hidden from him."

And with that he slipped away from me and darted off about two rods to hide behind another rock.

My heart was right down to my toes! Surely he wouldn't try to tackle that creature all alone. But clearly, he was. Off he'd gone again, to crouch behind a bramble-bush, nearly there.

I swallowed hard. I wanted to shout to him to come back, but of course that would be the worst thing I could do-- alerting everything within earshot. I had never felt so frustrated in my life. I bit my lip and held my breath. The lookout leaned back against the tree. It was facing the other way-- perhaps Thorn could do it after all!

I watched Thorn make his last mad dash, and with a swiftness I would never have believed, he had grabbed the lookout from behind and put his hand over its mouth. But the goblin struggled. Thorn held on, dangling from its back like a child's doll. There was no sound, thankfully, but suddenly the two of them vanished over the edge of the embankment.

I bit my hand to avoid screaming out, and ran to the place where they had gone over, fearing the worst.

Thankfully, the embankment was not more than about ten feet high. About halfway down a narrow ledge jutted out, beneath an outcropping of rock. The two were grappling silently, save for grunts and groans, but suddenly, the goblin threw Thorn aside abruptly. Thorn hit his head on the rock, and fell to the ground at the rim of the ledge, unconscious or worse. The Orc, a hideous being such as I had never seen the like of, gave a snort of laughter, and drew a wicked looking knife. It went over to Thorn and took him by the hair, baring his neck.

I couldn't bear it. I leapt to the ledge myself, distracting the Orc. I reached to the ground around me, picked up a stone, and let it fly.