Thanks to luinthien for reviewing!! 

I've had a good day today, so I've decided to post chapter 8 early!  *g* 

Chapter 8

            Felnorvard bowed low before his master.  Everything was going exactly as it was supposed to.  Events were set in motion, and now all they had to do was wait for the results.  “He is progressing quicker then expected, my lord.  Even now, he lies unconscious.”

            Saruman allowed a small smile to creep across his face.  “Yes, I suspected as much.  Leave him alone for a time so we can see his reaction.  Watch him closely, and report back to me.”

            “Yes, Master.”  Felnorvard hesitated.  The wizard had been in a strange mood lately, ever since Aragorn had arrived, actually.  “Please pardon my asking, but what types of reactions should I be searching for?”

            Saruman let out a low, dangerous laugh.  “He will bend to my will, though he does not know it.”  He crossed the room and picked up a bowl containing the herb drug.  “Do you know what this is?  Inwist, the Elves called it; all but forgotten now.  Alone, it has little power, but with my superior skills, I have been able bring it to its full potential.”

            Felnorvard waited for the wizard to continue, but it appeared as if he was lost in thought.  “Master?” he prompted.

            Saruman turned his back on the man and continued.  “Just watch him carefully.  You will begin to notice a change.”

            Felnorvard bowed again and left Saruman alone.

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            Rayford rushed to the fallen Ranger’s side.  He had collapsed no more than two feet in front of them, however they had not been able to catch him.  Hopefully, he hadn’t injured himself further in the fall, though his feet seemed to just cave in under him. 

            Milena had managed to save some of the water in the jug although a good deal had been lost.  They would need it to treat the fallen man.  Now, they had to decide what to do; there was no telling how long they would have alone.  Time was short.

            “All right, come on then,” Rayford said to his cousin.  “We can’t just sit here and wait for him to wake.  Bring the water.” 

            Milena knelt down beside the Ranger and placed the jug on the ground next to her.  With Aragorn’s head resting on her lap, she tilted it back and brushed his hair off his forehead.  His skin felt abnormally warm.

            “He has a low fever,” she said quietly.  “Hopefully it wont become a problem and break on its own.  We should concentrate on his other wounds.”

            “I agree,” Rayford said.  They did not know why Strider had fallen.  It could be from any number of reasons.  Was it from hidden injuries, dehydration perhaps? 

            Rayford tore a small piece of cloth from his shirt and dipped it into the water.  Then he tore off another piece.  They had to be careful not to contaminate what little water they had.  One cloth would have to be used to transfer the water while the other scrubbed the wounds.  They must use their supply very carefully.  Right now, he could only concentrate on washing away the dirt from the most serious wounds where infection would likely occur. 

            Milena sat by the Ranger’s head and continued to try and wake him.  She noticed that his eyes were rapidly moving back and forth behind closed lids.  He was dreaming and from the scowl forming on his face, it was not a pleasant dream.  Strider’s breathing had become shallow and quick.  The woman put her fingers on his throat, checking his pulse.  That too was abnormally fast.

            She knew that he’d work himself into a fit if he didn’t wake soon.  After several more minutes of trying, Milena concluded that he was in an unnatural sleep.  It should not have been that difficult.  The only thing she could do now was to try and calm him down.  She placed one hand on the man’s forehead to keep him from rocking it back and forth.  The other, she set on his upper chest, just below the base of his neck. 

            Milena slowly began to move her finger tips in small circles.  When she had cared for sick children in her village, she often rubbed their upper chest, and it comforted them.  Though not instantly, Strider did relax under her touch.  His breathing slowed, but it was obvious he was still plagued by dreams.

            “He needs water,” Rayford said, rising from his work.  “I can do nothing more with what little we have.”

            “I have no way of knowing when he will wake, and I fear he needs the water urgently.”

            Rayford sat back for a moment in thought. “Here,” he said, scooping his arms under the unconscious man.  “Sit behind him so he doesn’t choke.”

            Milena pulled the Ranger up so that his head rested back on her shoulder.

            “Hold his mouth open.”

            She nodded and placed her free hand underneath his jaw, pulling his lips apart.  Strider struggled weakly for a moment, but Milena held him tightly against her.  She tried speaking quietly close to his ear in an attempt to calm him.  “Be still,” she whispered over and over.

            Rayford took his clean cloth and dipped it into the water that remained in the jug.  Then, without loosing a drop, he brought it up to the Ranger’s mouth.  Very slowly, he squeezed the liquid from the cloth, being careful not to give him too much at one time.  With Milena’s hand in the way, however, Rayford could not tell whether the Ranger was swallowing.  So, he looked over questionably at his cousin. 

            She slowly nodded her head and answered.  “He is accepting the water; I can feel him swallowing.”

            They decided it was time to take their own share of it.  Both cousins took one large mouthful and drip-fed the rest to the unconscious Ranger.

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            Aragorn slowly felt himself leaving the realm of sleep.  He didn’t want to leave, because there was no physical pain there.  But now he could feel it creeping back up on him.  There was a severe pressure in the back of his head, near his neck, and it was slowly spreading down his back.  The pain was threatening to seriously hindering any sort of movement. 

            Aragorn tried to focus all of his attention on keeping his breathing slow and steady.  His head was pounding; it felt as if some type of beast was clawing at the inside of his skull.

            He was finally becoming aware of his surroundings though he was having a difficult time remembering where he was.  A whispering someone was holding him upright, commanding him to be still.

            Wait, they were holding his mouth open and some liquid into it.  Something in Aragorn’s mind screamed that this was a very bad thing.  He began to struggle against the hands that held him.

            A different voice called his name.  “Strider.  Be still,” it commanded.

            Then, all at once, the memories came flooding back to him, and he stopped fighting.  His sleep-induced amnesia had vanished.  As he remembered where he was, Aragorn allowed his eyes to slowly open.

            He was mildly surprised to find himself in Milena’s arms with Rayford leaning over him.  “What happened?” he managed to ask.  It was taking longer than expected for him to fully wake up.

            “You collapsed no more than two steps in front of us,” Rayford answered.  “I was able to clean most of the dirt from your wounds with the water we had left.”

            Aragorn groaned.  “It was not all lost, was it?”

            Milena released her hold on him, seeing that he was indeed awake and alert.  “No, I managed to turn the jug upright and save about a third of it.” 

            Aragorn slowly shifted his weight so that he could rise to his feet, but Rayford laid a hand on his shoulder.  “I think it would be best if you do not rise yet.  You were unconscious for quite some time and for no apparent reason.”

            Aragorn sighed.  He was finally beginning to feel the effects of the drug.  Every part of his body ached but especially his head.  There was a throbbing pain somewhere deep inside his skull that made it difficult to think. 

            There was something else as well.  A sense of dread had settled itself in the Ranger’s heart, and he didn’t know why.  A darkness had come without warning and was beginning to shadow his thoughts.  But it didn’t feel like something unnatural.  It reminded him of the mental anxiety everyone experiences occasionally.  Such problems are rarely spoken of with others and are left to be battled in the mind.  Aragorn knew that if such feelings were left unchecked and unchallenged, they could easily draw him in deeper where they would eventually destroy him.

            Rayford and Milena had begun their own conversation, and Aragorn was relieved that it only required minimal participation from him.  He just didn’t feel like talking to anyone else.  Right now, he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts and try to figure them out.

            The two young people noticed Aragorn’s distress and lowered their voices.  They could see easily enough that something had changed in the man.  They understood that he needed time to himself.

            Aragorn smiled at them as they backed away.  He was grateful for the medical attention they had given his wounds and now for their consideration.  It was not often anymore that ones so young behaved in such a mature manner.

            Aragorn rested his head in his arms.  Something was happening to him inside his mind.  It had been a long time since he had felt so depressed and hopeless.  Over the years, he’d been in several other situations that appeared to be hopeless, and it had not broken him.  But now, he felt that all was lost, that it would be impossible to survive.

            Why the change? Why now?  It could not be coincidence; there could be only one answer.

            It must be the drug, Aragorn concluded.  Somehow it has affected the workings of my mind.  But now that I know, what is there to be done?  What could he do to change the way he felt?  Aragorn knew the cause, and he believed he understood the effect.  But now he was unsure how to counter.

            For nearly an hour, Aragorn sat by himself in silent thought.  Every possible solution that he could think of was quickly rejected.  Nothing he could conceive would solve his problems.  Often his mind toyed with the idea of agreeing to Saruman’s demands.  But in his heart, he still knew what it would mean.  Finally, Aragorn knew that he could not spend anymore time dwelling on things he could not change.  Going around in circles was doing nothing for him.

            Even though he was incredibly sore and stiff, the Ranger slowly got to his feet and made his way over to where the two young people were quietly talking.  When they asked if he was alright, Aragorn replied, “I need to occupy my mind, to distract me from recent events.  May I join you?”

            “Of course,” Milena said with an understanding smile.

            The three captives talked for several hours.  They spoke of childhood indiscretions, of family, and future goals and aspirations. They laughed, which was a strange sound for a prison cell.  Milena talked about how she wanted to raise her baby, and Rayford spoke about a young maiden from a nearby village that he wished to know better.

            Aragorn found himself enjoying their company and conversation.  However, they were still very young compared to his eighty-six years, and they did not understand the ways of the ever-changing world.  The Ranger knew the chances of all three of them safely escaping were very slim.  They may never get a chance to do the things they were talking about, and it bothered Aragorn more then he wanted to admit.  But he was willing to put all that aside if it meant he would have a few more hours of relative normality. 

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            Felnorvard smiled.  He had been standing outside the door for several hours now, listening.  He had secretly watched Aragorn’s mental struggle, and what he saw pleased him.  This was exactly what his master said would happen. 

            He really couldn’t believe how perfectly everything was progressing, the Ranger’s reaction to the drugs, the prisoners’ growing friendship, everything.  Saruman had given Felnorvard permission to continue whenever he felt the Ranger would be ready.  All of the signs were there; it was very nearly time for the second phase to begin.

            Yes, he would allow them another hour or two to build up their friendships, and then, he would carry out his master’s wishes.

TBC