The Hunting Trip
44: When All Is Done

Kattica's body helplessly faltered. Terror swept through her as doom stared her down. Weak and listless under Bäla's hold, she felt his new devilry sweep over her. Forcefully she was made to look into eyes that were wide and spookily hollow. An expression of insatiable desire was carved into the face that gazed at her.

The wind whipped her. Water splashed in her face. Light flamed around her and the earth moaned in her ears but she could not move from them and flee as her heart told her to do.

How can this be? How can this be?she asked herself. Bregus had claimed Bäla had no power, and yet Bäla was the one magically holding her, purposefully showing the full of his strength. Obviously Bregus had betrayed Kattica, but to find the one fulfilling that disloyalty on Bregus' behalf was Bäla confused her. Why had they done so much to conceal him to the girl? Together they could have overwhelmed her from the start and taken her as they were doing now. Surely there was an alternative motive to their actions than this?

It dawned on Kattica then, suddenly, ringing loud in her mind like the tolling of a bell. Bregus does not know! Flashes of reality sparked with the electrified color of light as Kattica put it all together in her mind. The greatest deception was before them, hidden in Curtik's body. Bregus, her back turned to this display, was oblivious to Bäla's actions. The old woman was too busy anointing the knife she would use for the sacrifice, reciting her chant in singsong fashion. She had not noticed the betrayal. She does not know he has powers!

In this forfeiture, the deceit was vividly clear. Not only was Bregus about to face failure, but Kattica and the others were also on the cusp of collapse. She should have seen it when she found Bäla among them. He was not to have been a part of their plan. She had not anticipated his double cross in their venture. She had known he would do something evil, but she never thought it would occur at the exact moment of Bregus' turn to the gathering of power. How could Kattica have thought it would happen then?

How could she have not? This was Bäla. She should have known.

Yet favor still shined on her and somehow, Gordash seemed to take notice of the situation, as did Mattias, and both Romany acted simultaneously.

"Stop this!" Mattias cried as he squirmed to work his hands free scraping them against the walls, fighting against them while Gordash leaped into action. The large man tackled the male witch with the full of his body, crushing Bäla under his weight. But the witch wrested free a shout, and then words were cast. A spell! The large man was thrown away with a strength that was impossible to comprehend. Gordash
was dispelled, and the evil man, rising to face Kattica again, panted heavy breaths.

"And now you shall give me what you best offer," Bäla rasped, again gazing with horrid eyes into her soul. He laid a hand aside her belly and she felt as if knives were tearing through her. A scream was ripped from her throat in unholy agony and the world was a spinning whirl of red.

Vaguely she heard a raging voice screaming as if the world were coming to end, "NO! NO! MOTHER! He betrays you! Look! Look!"

A great pain was within her, and she felt as if her body were turning inside out. Fuzzily she saw Bregus' angered face. She heard the witch's cursing bellow scatter within the confines of the cave, but it seemed to be swallowed by the whirling vortex of sound emitting around her. And then she saw the sight of Bregus and Bäla as they tore at one another, flagging one another with blows both visible and invisible while words circled her and Kattica rode away on them.

She was being lifted, and she felt something hard pressed into her hand. She was being shaken and blearily she recognized the figure of Gordash looming in her vision.

"Say it, Kattica! Say the words of the spell!" he was yelling.

She could not think. Such malevolent agony -- it hurt too much.

"Say the words!" the big man cried in her ear, his voice frantic.

Another wave of pain made her body spasm. Her breath hitched. Her mind was too rattled by the ache to register anything beyond it.

"They are doing battle and pay you no notice! Say the words!" he urged, shaking her to draw her attention to him. "Say them!"

The opportunity to redeem her failure was still available. She mustered her thoughts, her brain barely registering cohesive thought enough to remember. "Pani," she began with her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," he encouraged. "More."

"Barban," she gasped, tears streaming from her eyes.

"Yes. More! More!" he cried as his hands curled around hers, closing her fingers into a tighter fist about the stones.

"Vag e puv," she sobbed, her head falling back.

But she could feel it. The power was beginning to course through her veins, invigorating her. "Boge'sko mabestipen," she said, and the pain eased. She truly began to feel it now. A surge of new energy ran over her limbs, and the pain from within was fading.

"Again!" Gordash commanded as his eyes flitted to the witches beyond her vision.

Inhaling deeply, she spoke it again. "Pani, barban, vag e puv, boge'sko mabestipen!" The stones grew hot in her hand. "Pani! Barban! Vag e puv! Boge'sko mabestipen!"

They were alive. The stones breathed life of their own, and the aches that tore her were swept aside by the rejuvenating effect the power of the Protected Place held over her. Suddenly she had strength enough to sit up, to stand, to fight a thousand battles if that is what she must do, all because the stones were
alive.

Light like a small fire sparked in the bowl of her palm where the stones lay. And the more she spoke the words, the brighter the flame became. She rose as the energy came to her, and she had it now as Gordash offered his support. The power was granted and she raised her arm, the living rock flaring like a blinding light. Like a small sun, it flamed brightly, overriding all the other light to remain something small, like a shadow in comparison. It emoted energy at her command.

Yet something so huge could not be hidden. The blinding light was like a blow that swings wide and strikes many. It was not contained and instantly all eyes turned to it. And with that flame of zenith fire, everything in the cave began to roil in a churning maelstrom.

Everything was in her control. The earth rumbled pleasure in greeting her and the wind whipped about her, adoring her. The fiery light flared its brilliance to please her while water bowed and dipped as if to grace her. They were hers and she commanded them.

One would think that was enough to overpower all the evil that had ruled in that cave. However, she realized too that one should not underestimate the dark strengths of magic in a domain such as the Protected Place. As magnificent as it was, it was also a heavy burden. No other words could she use to describe how it felt to carry the dominant power of the cave. Every nerve in her body was alive, and though it did not hurt, neither was it easy to maintain. It was almost as if the gravity of it threatened to bury her in its strength, and if she did not hold her own, she would fall away, fading into the elements of which she held. It was inexplicably odd, but she understood through it that no mortal was really meant to have this power, and that the witches were playing with a tool beyond them in trying to capture the elements and manipulate them to a shuv'ni's will. She could not hold this for long.

Outside of her she saw them come. The witches immediately noticed the turn in tide and dispelled with their battle, setting it aside. At that moment, the rivalry between them disappeared and they were united against the superiority of Kattica.

Wordlessly they charged, pulling together all of their strengths to fight her. Bäla pummeled Kattica with a barrage of invisible blows while Bregus sent the masses of her people to surround the girl. Yet Kattica fought brilliantly, evading everything they unleashed upon her. To Bäla, the blows were knocked off target
by a blindness she wrought on him through the shining light, while Bregus and her people were hurtled away by the cyclonic wind Kattica conjured.

Blindness, however, did not dissuade Bäla. He bodily charged in the attempt to reach Kattica. He was but mere steps away, his eyes crazed as he approached and she realized then that he was unstoppable. He was a monster. She attempted to throw him back with spells of her own make, lashing them outward in his direction, anything that might hinder him long enough that she might find others at her aid, but he was not deterred.

"I have the Other World from which to pull power! You cannot hinder me with your petty incantations!" he roared as ran into the tide of her winds. He launched himself at her, his hands reaching for the flaming stones in her hand.

Yet a loud noise, a warrior's cry, and an unexpected spray of water, first one then another, splashed on them both, jarring them. Kattica's head whipped toward the onslaught. She gasped joyously, relieved to see Aragorn and Faramir's arrival, which meant the soldiers would be attacking and in a moment's time they would override the cave. She smiled with glee. It was the turn of the battle, the moment she had waited for, and she almost laughed at Bäla then in her cocky relief. She could almost see his end and she looked forward to witnessing his demise.

Bäla gasped, and then turned, freezing while she backed away, pulling the mithril closer to her chest. She watched as Aragorn and Faramir moved in a fluid motion to cut themselves free of their ropes, as if they were practiced in the skill of diving through the madness of a waterfall. It had been such a daring act, and yet they moved with a seasoned grace, automatically assessing and understanding the situation in just a turn.

Faramir took his direction toward Bregus, but Aragorn saw her, and he began his lunge in the attempt to aid her.

However, Bäla seemed to regain his composure then and with a hand that seemed to shove outward, Aragorn was slammed back with the same force as had been used on Gordash. He crashed to the wall, falling in a motionless heap to the floor.

"No!" Kattica cried.

And then Bäla's malevolent eyes turned back to her, and without wasting another moment, he grabbed her.

Where are the soldiers? she thought as she tried to back away in a desperate attempt at flight. There should be soldiers!

Even with the stones, every ounce of her energy at the moment was directed at maintaining her own presence, standing on two feet, not collapsing under the weight of the power he held. How he did it, she couldn't guess. Bäla's strength was tremendous, far greater than anything she might have imagined. His fingers closed over her fist and he tried to wrestle the stones from her, his hands becoming entangled with hers, and bodily there was contact between them.

She could read him then. Suddenly she could see into his mind and understood the root of
his deception.

His thoughts were mired in anger. Such a vile place it was, hideous for the lust and darkness that pervaded there, insidious and menacing. And yet she could see that not everything of him had been a lie. In Bäla's mind, he truly was pleased with Curtik's body, though she could see now that it had always been one of his choices. The deception was clear to her. Should Mattias or Faramir have been unable to fulfill the role of the one he would possess, he had intended to take Curtik. And while those other two had the power of mortal rule, something Bäla would always aspired to possess, Curtik had magical skills that they did not. Bäla was willing to forego the others to possess that skill, for he knew rule could be gained with other means of manipulation if need be.

Ultimately she saw Bregus' greatest failure. The witch, in her jealous guard of her position as shuv'ni, had overlooked Curtik's subtle skills of mysticism over the years. To his credit, Bäla had not. He had not neglected his youngest son as his wife had, and he had long fostered the duplicity Kattica saw now. She realized too that Curtik had been the only one of the three to whom Bäla felt a kinship and she knew then just how horribly hurt Curtik had been at his father's death. And then with a new sense of horror, she realized the reason for Bäla's death. It had been of Bregus' make. As a result she could see the motivation for everything that was occurring and why Bäla had played this most destructive game. This was his revenge.

Yet despite her surprise at the deceptive leanings of the creature her mind met, she was also astounded at his mortal strengths. Bäla was undaunted by any turn; here Kattica could see he was determined to win and be the victor. He would get his vengeance against his wife no matter the cost. And at the same time he would breathe life again. That pleased him much.

The dull understanding of how Bregus had killed him came to her. Kattica sensed poison in the reaches of his recollection. Outwardly, it looked so normal, as if he had died of natural causes, but beneath it were the old woman's regrets and the beseeching pleas made in dreams. Too late, Bregus had wanted him back and Bäla had taken advantage of her guilt then.

Kattica could see he was more astute than she had given him credit of being. She could see what he would do now. He would steal the spell away from Bregus and use it for himself. And with that, she could read in his mind that he would not only be one with Curtik's body, but also immortal. He was thrilled by the possibility of success in his retaliation. It was the ultimate turn of hurts against the old woman.

Yet in reading him, other suspicions were found true. So deep was his plan. It touched many, and she could see the spectrum of how wide it spread. It went beyond what was before her now and she could see he had been manipulating and planning this for a very long time.

He was a fiend! She had to find a means to stop him. She tried to find something of compassion within the soul to help her, but there was nothing of Curtik to call upon. All that was left of the youngest son were the memories. Any inkling of the former personality appeared gone.

Bäla was grappling for the stones, and should he take them from her, his might would be overwhelming. She pummeled him with mental blows, and yet he came. His strength was truly terrifying, and she wondered that she had not read it before, but then she realized the Protected Place magnified the strength given him. It had for all three of the witches. What was left was a battle of wills and raw power. She sized her opponent up then and knew. In a normal setting, his tie to the Other World made him the greater. But she had the stones, and she thought sure that somehow evened them.

So how might she win against him?

The amulet swung into her line of vision. It had been Kattica's tie to the Other World, her advantage, but now he had it. Unfair was that loss of benefit, for she knew he gathered no gain from the charm. He was already tied to the shadows, while Kattica's grandmother was linked to the light.

But could that be a weapon?

Suddenly, a vision appeared in her mind. The sinister gleam of a devilish eye gazed upon her, and her mind caught sight of the intruder studying her. Bäla! With the harsh slap of realization she saw. He was not just there outwardly. He was within her!

I am a fool, she thought, for he read her! All the while that she had been looking into him it seemed he too had been gazing upon her! He knew her mind as well as she knew his!

He saw. He knew. He knew everything about her. The stones in her hand. Her heart. Her greatest fears. All were exposed to him, and he would act upon them.

Bäla pushed her away, breaking their hold, and then he charged. Both hands went to her belly and the agony she had felt before was nothing compared to the crippling pain he unleashed on her now. "Let your baby come forth now! It is time she was met!" he whispered into her ear.

Her breath caught in her throat, choking her as writhing pain tore her apart from deep within. Clutching hands, strong, like the talon claws of a preying animal, dug into her abdomen, hurting her with their bruising grip. She screamed then as the elements faded from her control. She could not think of anything beyond the pain.

She nearly dropped the stones under the weight of that crushing torment as her hands went out to push him away. Foisting her weight upon him, she fumbled to send him away, hands leaping out blindly anywhere that might gain her a handhold.

And then the fingers of her free hand became tangled in the cord at his neck and she felt the familiar carving of the stone from her amulet in her hands. It was the amulet that kept Kattica focused. Mocking her from the place around his neck, she could not bear that the gift of her grandmother was now tied about Bäla's throat. It was an obscenity to see it there. If she could regain it, she might prevail for then she too would be channeled to the Other World. Yet retrieving it was beyond her.

It was a tenuous hold, barely a thing from which to gain balance, but she pulled herself up from the strength of the amulet's cord and regained herself enough to stare into his wildly malicious eyes. The satanic gaze stared back at her, and she nearly recoiled for the fear she felt looking into the heart of pure evil. But perhaps there was something in her grandmother's amulet that fortified her. She felt yet power enough to drive a sneering blow into him.

"Devil!" she cried in their native tongue. "Your true form is revealed, and now I curse you to be exposed for what you really are!"

But that small blight was all she could manage, for the pain he inflicted grew more with her words, and her legs began to waver under the weight of all that had been put upon her. She fell, but her eyes did not look away, for her anger, despite the agony, was huge and she would have him know her vexing words if she could.

What followed was a startling thing. Curls of smoke drifted from the place at his chest where the amulet fell. A searing black mark was laid there as wafts from coiling snakes of smoke emitted about it. Her grandmother's stone had burned him, and he screamed a wretched cry at the pain exposed in that.

But she could take no more. The smell of charred flesh sickened her as another wave of pain came over her. Though his hands were removed from her, the spell of his words held, and she felt her body ripping apart. Liquid slid between her legs and she realized a hot pool of fluid was forming at her feet. She crumbled into it, weakened by the agony of that which befell her. And she cried, for she knew what was coming, what Bäla had launched upon her.

Vaguely she realized her rescuers were doing battle, but it did not matter, for the fate of the thing she held closest was already lost, and there was no hope. The baby was coming and she could do nothing to stop it. It was done. She was done.

****

There was no time to applaud the surprise of their admittance to the cave. It had worked! That was all that he had time to consider in the bedlam moments that followed his and Faramir's crash through the wall of water. It had worked, they were alive, and there was not a moment to waste in this maelstrom if a rescue were to be theirs.

They had landed in the center of the mire. Action had to be immediate or all would be lost. They had gained admittance to Henneth-Annün through an entrance few ever noted as one. But even with craggy rocks, the long drop, and the deluge of water serving as a door, Aragorn had not let those considerations get in his way as they had swung through the curtain wall of water. It was a horrible risk they had taken, one completely untried as far as Aragorn knew, but he had taken many risks in his lifetime, and when lives were at stake, he knew there was little to be gained in making safe choices. He had taken the gamble of attempting the dangerous entry and he knew he must if he were to see his friends' freedom. And now was the moment to decide all their fates. But it was wrong. With a terrible sense of dread, he realized that they dove into chaos. That was as planned. However he suddenly detected it was not the chaos that they had expected it would be.

The floor was a slick of water where they had landed, but Aragorn kept his footing and with a quick glance behind, he saw that Faramir had landed as smoothly as he had. His companion was already cutting himself free and searching the room, and Aragorn regained himself enough to follow his steward's example. In a glance he took an inventory of their situation, and that was when he saw that it was not asthey had staged it.

The soldiers are not here yet! Where are they? They were supposed to have attacked by now! The battle in the outer hall was meant to keep the witch distracted enough that Aragorn and Faramir might strike her together.

And then he realized there was something too easy about their admittance. Bregus had not posted sentries at the upper door, and so he and Faramir were given the opportunity to sneak past that point without the old woman's notice. True, there had been archers in the trees watching their backs, but Aragorn thought they might have at least met with some resistance.

Yet they had not and Aragorn and Faramir were given leave to make their astounding entrance.

What they found was, in some ways, success. Bregus was scrambling to rise from the floor, shocked apparently to see them though Legolas and Éowyn were herded by a large number of Romany behind the witch. He could see they were heavily guarded, though many were picking themselves up just as the witch was. Yet their numbers surprised him. He thought that they might have been kept in the halls to hold off the soldiers. He would have expected that they would be screaming and scurrying to protect the hold by now, but they were not. Where were the soldiers?

Gordash and Mattias were to his right; the giant was fallen, semi-conscious, with his brother at his side. Mattias was bound but ministering to his kin. His panicked eyes turned to Aragorn in that moment and his head gestured to the third set of figures dominating the room. "Help her!" he cried, and Aragorn whipped his head to that direction.

He caught a frightening sight then and all his fears and worries for Kattica came alive at that moment. The girl was fighting off Curtik with a series of invisible blows. Strange was the sight; for though Kattica did not move, her terrified eyes showed that she was somehow thwarting the man. Curtik's head was thrown back again and again as if he was being pelted with blows. He kept stumbling forward, somehow unhurt by what she did. Still, it was relief in Kattica's eye that told him she knew of Aragorn's presence and the message was passed to Curtik. The man stopped his advance then and Kattica rushed away. Suddenly the focus of the other was on Aragorn.

Dark eyes stared at him, and gruesome terror struck Aragorn as he gazed into those orbs. They were pitch to their depths and horrifying in their menace, and Aragorn nearly dropped the knife he had used to cut himself free in that instance of evil. He realized it then. This was no mere man that Kattica fought. Aragorn charged.

What came was a horrible surprise. The Romany's hand shot out, and with a force Aragorn could not have predicted, he was thrown, hurling into the air, dashed against the wall.

It was only a moment that he lay there; he was sure of that. A troubled cry stirred him to life, and with it he was suddenly alive again, realizing there was no time for dismay. His head ached as he rose, throbbing fingers of pain at the base on his skull prodding him. Still, he knew he could not be stalled by such frivolous hindrances as pain. He rose to his feet as quickly as his body would allow and fortunately he was not noticed in the foray that danced around him.

And as fortune had it, his knife had not been lost in the dashing tumult either. As he stood he felt the comfort of the familiar weight in his hand. His head turned back to the renewed battle between Kattica and the man and he could see dire trouble brewed there. Curtik leapt back from the girl. The horrible hiss of scalding fire was rent in the air, accompanied by the unpleasant scent of burning flesh and the man's wretched scream. The small moment brought him glee, but it was a short victory.

Kattica fell into a crumbling heap upon the wet floor and his fears were then doubled.

Aragorn rushed forward, barreling into the sidestepping man. But as he reached Curtik, the Romany once more seemed to have regained himself. The assault was deflected with a backward move, and Aragorn again found himself on the ground looking up. With the charred stain at his chest, there was something demonic about Curtik's appearance.

But the true menace was revealed as Curtik spoke to him. "Good evening, King Elessar. I have been expecting you."

Aragorn gaped. He knew then with certainty what he faced. "You are Bäla," he whispered.

"As you can see, I have one part of my spell near completion." The malicious smile did not fade as the hand of the man indicated Kattica's writhing body. "In a moment more, I will cut out the baby and use its heart for my magic. And now I need an Elf to complete my magic." In a mocking voice he said, "You do not happen to have one with you, do you? Your pretty wife would make a lovely completion to what has been started here." Then as if seeing the horror in Aragorn's eyes for these words, the witch laughed. "Oh, but the Lady Arwen is almost too lovely to destroy. Luckily, there is but a spare Elf about."

He began to direct Aragorn's attention to where Faramir fought and Legolas lay. It was then that Aragorn realized the soldiers still had not entered. Where are they? he screamed in his mind. But there was not time to ponder what might have delayed their arrival. He scrambled to rise and in that moment, astonishingly enough, something else distracted the horrible male witch so that Aragorn could regain his feet.

"YOU WILL DIE NOW, BÄLA!" someone screamed, and a moment later Aragorn realized it was Bregus' terrified voice that cried it. In a flash he saw the whirling form of a knife flung across the space. And though Aragorn could not see it, he heard the soft thud of the blade making contact with flesh and then the hissing sound again. A wavering snake of smoke rose from the wound at the male witch's back. Bäla's face changed to a grimace then transforming the shuv'ni into something even more hideous than he had already been. The man truly took the appearance of a devil.

Bäla treacherously leered at Aragorn as he swallowed this newest pain. In a voice that was deep, and ugly, and inhuman, he said with a grunt, "You have met my wife, Bregus, I believe. I am afraid she will not be joining us for the ceremonies ahead." Then in a turn that seemed in Aragorn's eyes to be taken in slow motion, Bäla reached over his shoulder and pulled the knife free as he came about to advance upon Bregus. And then he threw the knife at her.

The king waited for no other opportunity. The monster's back was turned and Aragorn struck. He vaulted, knife in hand, but Bäla seemed to have anticipated that move and before he could land his stabbing blow, the male witch swatted him away, as if he were but a small creature. Aragorn was flung to the ground again. Reflexively he rolled to cushion the shock of the fall while he still held the knife.

But suddenly the Romany people were alive and wild, crying. "Soldiers!" they said. At last! Aragorn thought, and Bäla's eyes showed fright.

Yet he turned to Aragorn then and laughed, "We are not done, my king."

Still his head turned away, as if seeing or hearing something outside of Aragorn's vision. And then the witch blanched, and he turned on his heal. The look of terror in his eye told Aragorn that indeed the soldiers were coming. Running past the tribe with another wave of his hand that toppled the people like bits of paper, Bäla was suddenly free of the chamber and in the halls that led out.

No! He is escaping! Aragorn thought while at the same time he wondered how the witch might get past the soldiers that were looming ahead. But then he felt panic. He knew what Bäla was capable of doing, and he also knew Arwen waited outside the doors of this burrow. He could not afford to lose such a deadly foe now. There was still more at stake in this horror.

He gazed back, seeing the swarming mass of people about him. If he was needed elsewhere he could not know, but he put his trust in Faramir to stand his ground somewhere amongst that barrage and to make a strike against the other witch. With that he fought to move past the crowd and out of the cave.

"Dead!" came the screams then and Aragorn's breath hitched. The word was frightening, and Aragorn almost turned, but he knew he need find Bäla or there would be other deaths still. "No! No! Dead!" the voices screamed and suddenly, the crowd was even more alive with motion, panic urging them as scattered fear rose among them.

The sudden commotion in the cave did nothing to further Aragorn's cause and he suddenly found himself being buffered against the tide of people. He heard screams and panic from the tribe, and people seemed to be running in all directions. Rage brewed in Aragorn's belly as he fought against them. "Move!" he screamed, determined. He was a hunter and he would not lose his quarry. Finding his opening, he dodged to the entrance and crossed into the narrower halls that were filtered in the last bits of light and the growing shadows.

This deed is not done, he thought as he raced out of the cavern and into the darkness to find Bäla.

A/N: Stayed tuned. Coming soon: The Final Truth.