Secrets

Chapter Three: Secrets

Four days had passed since Legolas and I listened at the masters’ cottage window. I found myself worrying over every detail of troop movement I could see and every minor grimace on Thranduil’s, Seregon’s and Aldamir’s faces. While I was concerned about the threat, I have to admit, I was mainly attracted to finding out more information. I hated feeling like the only Elf (with the exception of Legolas) who knew nothing about what was happening.

Legolas was as irritated as I was that no one would tell us a thing. He told me so at every opportunity. In a fit of utter stupidity, we even considered going back to the masters’ cottage and trying to glean more news. But after spending an entire afternoon making our plans to go back and stoop to the same level we had gone before, we became frightened that with the increased patrols around the perimeter of the Stronghold, we would be caught and sentenced to more of Borgil’s extra lessons. Since that would be nearly as bad as invading hordes of humans, we reluctantly crossed this off our list of ways to obtain new information. Since Legolas was growing more troubled with each passing day, and I, more curious, we had to find another way to find out what was happening.

At morning meal of the fifth day, Aldamir made an announcement that offered some diversion. "Erelas will be home this afternoon." Everyone at the table made happy sounds and pleased exclamations.

"That is indeed good news," Uncle said, but there was something about his smile that did not quite match up with his eyes. I think he already knew his middle son was coming home and was simply encouraging us to think this was some kind of normal little visit home. More than likely, Erelas had been summoned by the king himself.

Lalaith smiled at her husband. "I am so pleased. There is no time that I am more at peace than when I have all my sons within our home." Thranduil patted her hand affectionately. My naneth smiled as if she were also all in favor of sons being where one could reach out and swat them at will.

Legolas was quiet at the news, which was a bit odd, as he and Erelas are very close. I am close to Erelas as well, and I was preparing to announce to all my extreme pleasure at this piece of good news, when I noticed my cousin had an odd expression on his face. Erelas is usually a great deal of fun. He is not nearly as dull as Aldamir and Seregon. When he is home, he will often take us hunting and fishing. Best of all, he is always ready for a good prank against Aldamir and Seregon. I could not fathom why Legolas would not be jumping for joy. We got to do far more interesting things when the second prince of the realm showed up looking for amusement and respite from his duties. Legolas and I were fortunate that Erelas included us in some of his off time.

Amidst all the happy chatter, Legolas finally asked in as somber a voice as I have ever heard come from his mouth, "Why is he coming home?"

The look on Thranduil’s face could have frozen water. "What sort of question is that, Legolas?"

"Why is he coming home?" Legolas repeated, solemnly. "He is not due for leave for another two weeks."

"I was not aware that you are keeping the leave roster now," Uncle said, his voice low, and to my ears, rather menacing.

Surprisingly, Legolas did not back down. "Is he injured?" Lalaith’s eyes flew wide open at that.

"He is well," Thranduil replied, eyeing Legolas closely as if he were trying to decipher a particularly difficult puzzle.

"Then why have you sent for him?" Legolas boldly asked, taking me by surprise that he had surmised the same reason for Erelas’ return as I had. Despite an intense desire to know the answer, I was thinking about diving for cover under the table. From the look on Thranduil’s face, it was a wise consideration on my part. I thought it my duty to alert Legolas to the danger that lay ahead with a good kick to his shin, but I could not move. Not a muscle. No one else was moving either. Legolas had brought all activity to a dead stop.

Though Uncle was obvious riled, I had not seen the veins come out of hiding yet. Still, I was most interested that underneath his anger, he was still studying his youngest son like a map to the dragon’s hoard.

With more calm than I ever thought possible, Thranduil said, "It is not your place to inquire about such matters from me or from any of your elders."

"But there is something wrong and you will not tell me. My brother is in the forest every day, and you will not tell me!" Legolas said, his voice rising as tears sprang to his eyes. As tense as the atmosphere was and as bad as I felt that Legolas was obviously frightened for his brother, I felt a surge of relief that he did not tell Uncle that we knew about the men, as that little piece of news would undoubtably beget the question of how we came by that knowledge.

A look of sudden understanding passed through Uncle’s eyes. He motioned to Legolas to come to him. Legolas rose cautiously and went to stand by his adar’s chair. Thranduil gently took Legolas by the back of his neck and pulled him down so that he could speak only to him. After a quick kiss to his son’s cheek, he released him. Without casting a glance back at any of the stunned observers, Legolas left the room. Thranduil gave another quick pat to Lalaith’s arm, then stood, motioning the rest of us bobbing males to stay seated. He kissed Lalaith’s cheek and silently followed Legolas out the door.

When I turned back to my family, I saw that Seregon was watching me with a scrutiny that I did not think I liked very much. I admit, I must have been as pale as a wraith, but all I could think about was that he somehow knew we had been sneaking around under open windows. Guilt is a noisome companion. I found I was suspecting everyone of having found us out. When I finally forced myself to look directly at him, I was relieved to see a faint smile appear. "There is nothing for you and Legolas to worry yourselves about. All is well."

"Then why is Erelas coming home?" I asked, all my worries coiling tightly in my chest. Despite Seregon’s reassurances, things within my normally ordered life were awry. Besides, Legolas was upset, and when he was upset, he felt it his duty to be certain I was as miserable as he was.

"Because," Aldamir answered mildly, "we are constantly rearranging troop movements and making plans so that we may do our jobs effectively." He shook his head. "It is not uncommon for me to meet with my officers from the field."

I picked at the eggs on my plate. "But Legolas is right. Something has happened, and we are now confined to a small area to play, and the masters all look as if they are expecting something or someone." I swept my fork out. "Everyone is acting differently."

"I have noticed no one behaving strangely," Seregon said.

I gave him that look of Uncle’s that says one is either too young or too unimportant to understand. But we all knew Seregon was not too young, and he was certainly more important than me in the order of rank. Not to mention, I knew something was amiss; he was simply playing dumb. His evasiveness irritated me to no end. "Then you have not been paying attention," I snapped, immediately regretting opening my mouth. I do not think if I had slapped him, he would have looked more annoyed.

Before Seregon could defend himself and probably remove my head, Nana intervened. "Daeron," she said, calmly, "I know that you and Legolas must feel disquieted for some reason. It is obvious something is disturbing you. Why do you not tell us what it is? If it is possible, we will help allay your fears."

I went back to picking at my food. "It is only that everyone is acting strange."

"Explain what you mean by strange," Aldamir said.

I did not like being on the spot without Legolas. What would he tell his adar? I did not think he would tell him we knew about the men encroaching into the woods, and I knew I certainly was not going to admit it, but I did not know exactly what I should say. By then I was getting so confused myself, I was not certain if I was anxious about the men themselves, or if it was because we had obtained the information about the invaders by means I was sure would not sit well with my elders. Possibly it was both, and we could throw in the fact that I had just sat witness to Legolas challenging his adar. I was not feeling very brave at that moment. Since I was an well-known expert at saying all the wrongs things, I thought it best to end this conversation before I inadvertently told my deepest darkest secrets and never even knew it until it had tumbled out of my loose lips. "Nothing," I muttered. "It does not matter."

All the adults started exchanging those glances that say they know you are trying to wiggle out of answering and I was, but I could not see any other way.

"If you are worried, Daeron, then it does matter," Nana said softly.

I put my hands in my lap and stared at the table. "I am not worried. There is nothing wrong."

Lalaith leaned slightly forward as if to get my attention, and she did. "What have you heard, Daeron?"

She almost got me for I had already opened my mouth to say, About the men, but caught myself barely in time. I think she has some kind of strange Elf magic or something where she can see things that others do not. Possibly, it is merely the Nana gift from the Valar that she and my naneth have. Whatever it is, she can make you feel like you want to tell her everything. Since my mouth was already open, I had to say something. "Nothing," I repeated, lamely. I added a shrug for the effect of looking unconcerned. But against her, I felt as if I was trying to hold back the Forest River with my little finger.

"You have heard Elves talking?" she went on.

I shrugged again. Please! Somebody save me, I prayed.

"And what did they say?" she asked.

"That there have been tracks found near Uncle’s stronghold," I muttered and then wanted to kick myself. How did she do that?

I heard Seregon let out a long suffering sigh.

"I see," Auntie said, soothingly. "What else did they say?"

Do not talk! Do not talk! I kept muttering to myself. I shook my head. That was good. I would merely make gestures and not say anything.

"Who or what did they suppose made these tracks?" she asked as if this were the first she had heard about this and was truly interested.

I was nearly in panic by this time. She was quickly wheedling her way into my resolve, and at any minute I would be telling her all about how Gelmir was doing with his weapons, and I just happen to know because I just happened to be squatting down under Melda’s window while the masters were having a meeting, and just as a side note, there are men traipsing about our woods. I bit the inside of my lips and whispered, "I do not know. They did not say." Oh, help me Valar, for I had just told a boldfaced lie to my aunt and queen.

She looked at me as if she did not believe me, and her suspicions were, of course, right. She smiled kindly at me and said, "Then I would not pay much mind to those who know not of what they speak, Daeron. If Aldamir and Seregon tell you that you have nothing to fear, then I would trust them above those who gossip idly."

I nodded. She knew I was lying. I could feel it. In desperation, I looked to my naneth. "May I be excused? I do not wish to be late for lessons."

Nana thought about it far too long, and I thought she was going to let Lalaith continue to interrogate me, but she finally nodded. I stood on shaky legs and flew out of the dining room.

Legolas was late for lessons, but he did come. He was sullen and angry, responding to Borgil with the proper courtesy, but he was not prone to any discussion beyond what was required. When Borgil prepared to dismiss us, he looked Legolas over thoughtfully and then sent us on our way. When we got into the corridor, I could not stand another moment of suspense. "What did your adar say?"

He shook his head and increased his pace to his chambers. "I do not want to talk about it right now."

Well, fine! I grumbled to myself. I threw up a hand in disgust and turned off into my chambers to leave my books and gather my weapons. He had stirred up a hornet’s nest, left me to be quizzed by the grand inquisitor and then would not tell me what his adar said. Well, that was simply fine.

We met for our combat drills with Galdor first. No one escapes his lessons unscathed. An hour later we were all dirty, sweaty and tired. Being bumped, thrown and tossed must have helped Legolas work out some of his anger for he was much less out of sorts when we left to get a drink of water before going to blade training. He still did not tell me, and I was not going to ask after the way he had acted earlier, but I was all but dying to know.

After archery at the end of the day, I had to stay behind for a few minutes with Orocarni to shoot a few more arrows. I forgot to be one with my arrow and could not have hit the broad side of a mountain. Finally, after I had managed to hold off my rambling thoughts and concentrate on what I was doing, I landed three good shots.

"You seem distracted today, Daeron," Orocarni observed. "Is something bothering you?"

I fiddled with my bowstring and refused to look at him. My bothersome little companion, guilt, was back. I was sure he would be able to read my mind and know that we had been eavesdropping on the masters. My heart was pounding, and my stomach felt like it was marching to war. I shook my head. "No, there is nothing the matter." Did the Valar keep a record of how many times you lied? I wondered. I was already coming up with a plan to explain why it had been absolutely necessary. Facing the music gained a whole new meaning for me.

When he made no reply for a moment, I looked up to see him standing relaxed with his arms crossed across his broad chest as if he were sizing me up for a wall trophy. He sighed heavily and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You do not seem yourself. This is by far the worst run I have ever seen out of you." He eyed me closely. "Legolas, likewise, did not seem to be concentrating today, though his performance was adequate. Have the two of you had a disagreement?"

I shook my head again. I decided right then and there, I was going to kill Legolas with my bare hands. He started this whole thing at morning meal, and then left me to clean up the mess. I was suddenly the information-Elf, and everyone wanted me to tell them what was going on. "No, we are fine. I suppose I am just a little tired today. It is nothing."

"Did you not sleep well last night?" he asked. He seemed genuinely concerned.

That was as good an excuse as any. As a matter of fact, I wished I had thought of it myself, then I remembered the facing the music part of lying. But I had no other options that I could see at the moment. Fear of discovery won out. "No. I could not sleep last night. My naneth says that when I get overtired, I am restless in my sleep."

"I see," he said. "Then I will leave such concerns in her capable hands. However, as your master, I am concerned whenever your performance is affected by other circumstances in your life. I suggest that you retire early this evening, and if this persists you should discuss it with your naneth. I cannot allow you to train if you are not capable."

My head shot up at that. "I am sorry, Orocarni. It will not happen again." This was not working out as I thought it would.

He smiled. "I trust it will not." With a quick squeeze to my shoulder, he waved me off. "Go. I will see you tomorrow."

I ran all the way back to the palace. Where was that little blond orc spawn? I was going to kill him! After I had placed my training weapons in my chamber and ran back into the sitting room, I skidded to a halt as I came face to face with Naneth.

"Slow down," she laughed. "Where are you going in such haste?"

"Have you seen Legolas?" I asked breathlessly.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I just saw him in the corridor. He asked me to tell you to meet him in the grandfather oak to await Erelas," she said.

"Very well. Thank you, Nana," I said as I started to run out the door. I did not get around her before she grabbed me by the arm and swung me back to face her.

"Now, give your old nana a kiss before you disappear and no running in the palace."

I left a quick dry peck on her cheek and started to run off again, when suddenly it hit me how sweet she smelled and how soft her cheek was. I turned back around, hugged her around the waist with lightning speed and was gone before she could get all mushy with me. I would never get out the door if that happened. More than likely, she would then want to talk and ask me more questions. I had more important things to do, like find a cousin to slay. "Good bye Nana," I called over my shoulder as I walked very fast down the corridor back to the Great Doors.

The blond troublemaker was waiting in the tree, unsuspecting of my wrath and innocent to my desire to carve him up like a shank of venison. I climbed quickly up to my limb and sat down. I must have looked slightly deranged because he looked at me like I was.

"What is the matter with you?" he asked. He could not really be that dense, I thought, thoroughly incensed. Several good comebacks came to mind, all involving empty-headed blonds, but I refrained as it covered too many of my relatives who wielded far more power than I would ever have.

"What is the matter with me?" I mused as if this were the most burning question in all of Arda. "Well, let me see," I snapped. "First, you take a nice calm family meal and turn it into the Last Alliance, and then, leave me to try and wiggle out of all the questions you left behind with the adults. Then you will not tell me what your adar said. Then Orocarni tells me that if I do not sleep better at night I am not capable of being in training. Then you whistle a happy little tune all the way out here and ask me! Me! What is the matter?" I leaned over closer to him and spat out. "I will tell you what the matter is: I cannot decide whether to kill you by blade or by simply snapping your neck like a dry twig. That is what the matter is with me!"

He did not look too concerned by my threats. I was certain of it when he laughed. "Are we not being a little over dramatic here?"

"Perhaps you can ponder that while you are having a nice long visit with Mandos," I snarled.

He smiled, but at least he had the good grace to not laugh aloud again. "I am sorry, Daeron. I was angry this morning. And after I talked with Adar, or more accurately, he talked to me, I was even angrier." He slumped back against the tree trunk. "I am so tired of being treated like a child. They will never let me grow up! Adar and Naneth do not want me to ever be anything but an elfling. Aldamir and Seregon are just as bad. You would think they would remember what it was like and want to treat us more grown up, but they will not tell us anything either."

While I completely commiserated with his stance, I did not know exactly what to say. We were treated like babies, but then, we were not exactly warriors yet either. Still, I could see no harm in them telling us what was going on. Certainly, it would help us understand. "What did your adar say?" I asked, mainly because my curiosity had the best of me, though I had still not completely forgiven him.

"The usual," he grumbled. "He gave me the respect and responsibility lecture again. Then he launched into the proper chain of command and how it was none of my concern if I was not told." He rolled his eyes. "Oh," he drawled, "Adar said he understood that I was worried about Erelas, but that he is a well-trained and highly-skilled warrior, and he can take care of himself, and he has many highly-skilled warriors with him, and they all watch out for each other, so I should not worry about him."

That was probably not the time to bring up the fact that my adar had been a highly-trained, highly-skilled warrior who did not come back. And then there was Oropher and two-thirds of Mirkwood’s forces at Dagorlad who did not come back either. Which brings me back to what Legolas’ point was: they treat us like babies. Thranduil was simply placating his youngest child with words that sounded good, but held no water in reality. Even good warriors die. However, I had no desire to point this out to Legolas. For one, he already knew it and for another, I knew he really was worried about Erelas. I sighed. I was as bad as Uncle. Even though I was still angry with him, I did not want him to worry either. I would do it for both of us. "Was he very angry?" I asked, severely lacking for a better question since I knew I did not wish to talk about dead warriors.

"Somewhat, but he allowed me to sit."

Then it was not a life threatening encounter.

Before I could make any more inquires, Legolas punched me in the arm and motioned off down the path. Well, my day was complete. There came Fluffy and Flouncy. The best I could muster was a groan as I slumped down hoping they would not see us. Hope is a foolish sentiment, I have learned.

"Mae govannen," Fluffy called as she came to an over-exaggerated whirling stop. I suppose she has perfected the art of fluffing while walking since her dress twirled out from her ankles and came to rest as lightly as a feather drifting on the wind. She was actually quiet skilled at it; she had very little fluffing to do once she stopped. "And what are you two elfings playing today? Are you hunting big bad orcs, or is it spiders today?"

"No", I said calmly, "we were thinking of hunting stupid elleths, and you came along just in time to play."

Her face did flush slightly, and I felt more pleasure than I had all day. Things were looking up. "You are so childish, Daeron," she quipped. "Did you learn nothing after your last immature outburst?"

I chuckled. "Oh, I learned a lot. I discovered that you could not sit down for two days, and all that fabric you are swathed in did not offer enough padding to soothe your...bruise."

Her blush deepened as did my unmitigated glee. "If I were you, I would be more careful what I said," she said. "I am certain you will not wish my parents to speak to your naneth or brother again because you have been rude."

I scratched my chin. "Well, you would certainly recognize rudeness since you are its most favored customer. And," I went on, "it is a good thing that you are not me or you would find you would not like to even be near you." There, did I cover everything? Did it make sense? Not that clarity really mattered. Delivery is everything in the game of snide comments, scathing insults and condescending discourse. I glanced at Legolas to be sure I had not left an insult unanswered. He looked gratified.

"You are so immature," she snorted and turned to gaze on the trees as if they had suddenly become extremely fascinating.

"You are repeating yourself," I pointed out. I was sure she would not want to be seen as dull-witted, even though everyone already knew it. So I told her so. "I tell you this only because I wish to help you expand your capacity to express yourself well. No one else really thinks you can, but I see some small potential in you that is yet untapped."

I would have sworn that Flouncy looked as if she were ready to burst out laughing. She quickly brought her face back to a neutral expression. I was very disappointed.

Fluffy’s mouth dropped open like a snagged fish floundering on the river bank. She whirled around to make sure her companion was properly enraged on her behalf. Flouncy’s expression changed again to one of feigned horror. I caught the insincere response. Legolas chuckled, and I knew he had caught it, too. Only poor Fluffy was still in the dark. I was beginning to wonder if she had any hope of playing this game at all.

Legolas jumped up to his knees and whispered to me in a voice loud enough for them to hear. "Look at her hair!" Legolas, Flouncy and I all turned our undivided attention to Fluffy’s head. Of course, not a hair was out of place, but her hands flew to her head, patting it as if it were on fire.

Flouncy smiled congenially and said, "It is fine, Míriel." But the twinkle in her eyes gave her away... to everyone but Fluffy. I was starting to think I might like Flouncy after all. She was still an elleth, but she knew a good prank when she saw it. That gave her some leverage in my book.

Fluffy huffed like an overheated dragon and crammed her arm through Flouncy’s. "Come," she ordered. "These elflings are far too boring to waste our time." Naturally, they started off to the river; the best mirror in the forest. But, when they had gone only a few steps, Flouncy looked back over her shoulder and smiled.

Legolas and I were nearly rolling out of the tree laughing. As he wiped his eyes, he said, "She will never learn. She is completely beyond her reach." He clapped me soundly on my back. "You are the master of the art of insult. I bow to you." His bow was somewhat short since he was squatting, but it was appreciated nonetheless.

"Thank you, my cousin, I am honored by your praise. But I would be remiss if I did not honor Fluffy’s hair. That was brilliant! Just brilliant." I smiled at him and shook his shoulder slightly. "Stay with me and you will soon be known far and wide."

Immensely cheered up, we took off running through the trees. The squirrels and birds were a bit put upon as we dashed past them, but we did not care. We had won this battle, and there were no sharp objects involved, if you did not consider our tongues. The enemy was on the run and by now, probably fussing over her hair down at the river. We owned these woods--even if we were restricted to the baby area. Some things are worth small sacrifices. Very well, it was a large sacrifice, but it was still worth it.

The day was waning in earnest when we finally stopped to rest in an old beech tree. We were both winded, sweaty and happy. That last sentiment waned, too, when we realized we had traveled far from our designated play area. Somewhere along the way while we were celebrating the defeat of Fluffy, we had managed to wander through the trees, over the river and end up on the north side of the Forest River. I had a vague memory of scampering through the branches that touched over a narrowing in the normally wide river and flying onward to where we now found ourselves. I was not very familiar with this part of the forest, even though it was at the west side of the stronghold. From my vantage point in the old beech, I could actually see past the mountains and into the forest of northern Mirkwood. The trees were thick and still lush with early autumn leaves. Of course, I was looking for signs of spiders. I knew we were a bit too far east for any real spider activity, but it never hurt to be cautious.

Legolas crouched down and took his bearings. "Have you ever been in this part of the forest before?" he asked. I shook my head. "Me, either," he said. His eyes were scanning everything and a look of deep concentration crossed his face. His head snapped back to me. "It is awfully quiet here, do you not think?"

Now that he mentioned it, it was very quiet. The normal forest murmurings were so subdued, it was as if all the surrounding woods were holding its breath. No birds were chirping. No squirrels stirred, not even the fat furry black ones–though they were usually found to the south. The leaves even seemed frozen and mute.

"Something is not right here," Legolas told me. That was an understatement. Whatever it was that had the forest this alert was just cause for me to run back the way I had come and never look back.

"We should go," I whispered. "Whatever it is, we are not armed or supposed to be here to start with." I did have my trusty little dull blade. I never went anywhere without it, but it seemed a mite less than useful if we met with real trouble.

Legolas nodded his agreement and had started to turn to go back when he stopped dead. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.

All I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears like a water drum. My eyes were so wide open I think I felt a slight breeze to my brain. I shook my head, but just as I did, I did hear something. There was someone moving along the forest floor. We were well off any footpaths, or at least, I could see none anywhere near. The northern border guard must have patrolled this area, and they must have had some paths they traveled, but the area looked rarely used for anything except being a forest. I heard the soft footfalls again, and my sense was that it was not the northern guard. No matter how quiet these walkers were, they did not walk like Elves. That is hard to explain to someone who does not know the difference, and I tested myself on that knowledge as I listened. Within seconds, I had concluded with finality that whoever this was, they were definitely not Elves.

The sun was dipping lower into the West. No matter how quickly Legolas and I ran to get back to the palace, we were going to arrive after dark. We were in trouble on both sides of us now, a very angry family at our back and someone unknown to us at our front. I had a brief moment of considering turning west and trying to make it to Imladris. I wondered if Lord Elrond would give us political asylum? Taking off in a dead run anywhere through the trees at that moment seemed ill-advised. The walkers were nearly upon us, and if we tried to flee, then we might draw attention to ourselves. We could fade and be unseen if we wanted to, but someone sharp enough to travel in such stealth might be able to sight our general direction, especially if we inadvertently made any noise. Legolas motioned to me to press further back into the shelter of the tree. We moved silently back into the deepening shadows and clung to the wide trunk. It received us kindly, offering a low hum of reassurance as the leaves and branches almost imperceptibly reached for each other to provide us with a frilly shield. We would be nearly impossible to sight from the front or from the ground.

I held my breath as the men came into view. It took a moment for my eyes to pick them out. They blended into the shadows nearly as well as an Elf. There were only ten, but the sight of them made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up. I had never seen anyone like them. It is true that I have seen few humans in my life, and those were the men of Esgaroth or Dale who came to Uncle’s court to discuss matters of trade or defense. I suppose I thought all men looked like the men I was familiar with. The men I knew were for the most part tall and stout with the exception of the son of the Esgaroth group’s leader. He was tall, but so thin he looked as if he would snap like a willow reed. And he had some strange affliction on his face. There were little red dots that covered most of his skin, but seemed to congregate in large numbers on his chin and cheeks. I could only wonder if they felt as bad as they looked. And he had strange looking hair, too. It was an odd shade of red. Not that I can say much about such coloring as mine is a dark auburn, but his stood out like broom straw. However, I will say, he was quick to smile at Legolas and me when we met him at evening meal. Whatever this odd skin malady he had was, it did not seem to affect his good humor.

These men moving toward us looked nothing like the men I was accustomed to. They were short, taller than Legolas and me, but short for men or Elves. Their dress was quite unusual. They wore wide-legged breeches that were tucked into soft-soled boots. Their tunics fell to their knees with long sleeves that fastened about the wrist. A high collar, not unlike those of our under tunics, went half way up their neck. A sleeveless over-tunic with thigh-high slits fell nearly as long as the one underneath and was decorated with a stitched design I could not make out. Around their waists were broad sashes that seemed to serve as a sheath or anchor for weapons. The longest thinnest swords I have ever seen dangled at each man’s side. I was, of course, fascinated by this new blade. It looked razor sharp and even in the dying light, I could see that they were highly polished, and without a doubt, very deadly. As if their dress was not strange enough in itself, they wore nothing that was not midnight black. Well, except the swords and even they had intricately carved ebony hilts. Each man apparently had long hair, but it had been wound into a tight knot on the top of their heads. Their skin was light, but in a warm slightly sun-touched way. They were obviously well trained and of the same guard or whatever they would have called themselves. I am not certain I could have told them apart. Watching them walk, I was astounded by the silence in which they moved, and the light steps that snapped not even a twig. I rethought my earlier estimation of our troops’ failure to find these men and was greatly impressed that they had found any sign of them at all. These humans were good.

Legolas touched me lightly on the shoulder and motioned me to climb further up into the branches. The men were no more than fifty feet in front of us and moving quietly toward us. He waited until I stood and then grasped a limb over our head to pull himself higher. I was right with the plan until I raised my arm to follow him. Sitting as calmly as a duck on a pond was the biggest, ugliest, hairiest brown spider I have ever seen. On me. On my arm! My breath drew in and to my ears it sounded like a shout. I must have made a loud enough gasp to give us away, because Legolas turned with a look of complete horror on his face. I would like to say that I flicked the spider off and scrambled up the tree, but I could not move. Legolas took a step back toward me to knock it off, I assume, but as he did, I was hit with an uncontrollable panic and started to swat at it. My hand flew up just as he reached me with his outstretched hand. Our hands collided, then our bodies. I was the one with enough force behind my waving limb to cause the trouble, and his hand added only enough to throw us both off balance. My feet skidded sideways, rolling over the rounded surface of the limb. He grabbed for my arm, but missed, catching only a small piece of my tunic. I will give him credit; he tried to hold on, but he had too little to give him any grip, and I was tumbling with too much speed. When we hit the ground, he was lying on top of me. The force of the drop and my cousin’s body landing with all his weight on me drove all the air from my lungs. Despite our dire situation, all I could think about was whether the spider had hung on as we fell.

Before I could move or inquire as to the spider’s whereabouts, which considering I had no air in my lungs to speak or act, this might have taken some time, Legolas was jerked off me. In the blink of an eye, I was being hauled to my feet. Despite my inability to even gasp, I was able to register the sharp point pressed into my neck. Unfortunately, I was beginning to feel a little light-headed. The air would simply not come.

"Can you not see that he cannot breathe?" I heard Legolas cry. I heard some faint muttering in a language I had never heard before, even though I thought Borgil had had us learn every known language on Arda. This must have been one of the unknown ones. It was also fairly clear that the men did not understand a word Legolas said. Not that any of this mattered much at the moment. I was starting to see stars, and they were not the ones slowly showing themselves in the night sky. My knees buckled, and I sunk like a rock.

I could not have been out more than a few seconds, but when I awoke, a man was bending over me, rubbing my chest briskly and muttering some strange incantation or healing words. I had no idea what he was mumbling, but whatever it was, it seemed to work. Air was finally flowing back into my formerly crushed lungs.

I took a few good gulps to remind myself what it was like to breathe, and what a nice little pleasure it was. When the man was satisfied I was not going to die, he raised me to a sitting position while stroking my back in long slow circular motions. I started to thank him, but changed my mind when I remembered the all-important reality that he was the enemy. Instead, I just stared at him. Despite the fact that he was sneaking around our land, fully armed and looking fully dangerous, he had a kind look in his eyes as if he did not mean for me to be harmed ...unless he decided to kill me himself. Maybe they kept score, and if I died from a fall, it would not count. Still, he looked interested in me. I was certainly interested in him. He was obviously an elder or leader of some sort. His hair was streaked with silver threads that told me he was not as young as some of the other men standing around me. His face was smooth, without the deep lines I had seen on the older men I saw at the palace, but it looked softer and more worn than the others in his company.

He said something to me. Considering the communication problems, all I could do was continue to stare at him with what was, I am sure, a dull look on my face. Legolas and I were certainly making a good impression on these men. In the future, Thranduil would most likely want to make us emissaries to any peoples he wished to offend.

I heard Legolas say softly, "Are you hurt?"

"No," I answered. "I am fine now." He was still held firmly between two men, one of whom continued to hold a short knife pointed at his throat.

The older man pulled me to my feet. He may not have understood the words, but I suppose he understood the tone of my reply.

Another short discussion went on around us. Only three of the men spoke. The others silently watched the trees with blades drawn. Looking for more falling Elves, I supposed.

Finally, the older man turned to me and said something. I shook my head. He could have been asking me how I preferred to die for all I knew, and I had just passed up my best option.

In a very stilted and strangely accented tone, he asked, "Do boy speak Common Tongue?"

"Yes," I answered. Borgil would be so proud.

He nodded his head as if this were a major breakthrough, and it would have been if I had had any desire to stay and have a discussion with him. As it was, I preferred to go home and take my chances with Thranduil.

"Who you?" he asked.

"I live here. Who are you?" I asked. I tried to sound polite, but the question itself did not lend itself to sounding very welcoming.

"What are you doing in our woods?" Legolas asked. Instead of offering an answer, the men holding Legolas pushed him to his knees, not very gently, I might add. The man with the knife at Legolas’ throat hissed, "No speak to master until speaks to you." The older man did not even turn to look at what was happening behind him.

I could hear myself swallow. It did not seem like a good time to point out that it was a fair question.

There was another short exchange carried on by the men. The older man’s eyes never left me. Finally, he asked, "Others with you?"

I shook my head.

"You children?" he said, or asked, I was not sure if he was inquiring or just stating the obvious.

Still, I felt he required a reply. "Yes," I muttered, unsure what else I should say. But if he wanted to talk about our relatively low status, Legolas and I had already drawn up our complaints about this issue, and I could give him an earful.

"Where...older...people who know you?" he asked, stumbling over the words as if looking for the right ones.

"Parents?"

He nodded.

"Looking for us by now," I answered, hoping these men would scatter like startled birds. However, that was another vain hope since they were obviously armed and not in Mirkwood because they were frightened easily.

He turned, issuing orders by the sound of his voice. My hands were pulled behind my back and bound quickly with a thin leather strap. Legolas was suffering the same indignity and looking highly offended. Then, they pulled strips of fabric (black, of course) across our mouths and tied them securely. I glanced down at my waist looking for my knife, desperately trying to think of a plan, any plan, that might buy us time to get back into the trees and run. All hope was gone, just like my knife.

The men quickly gathered into a tight formation with us in the center and started north, through the forest, taking us in the opposite direction than where we wanted to go. My hands were burning, I could not talk (which was a disturbing development in itself for me) my knife was gone, and we were being taken. To where, I had no idea, but I was certain I was not going to like it.

I looked at Legolas and saw he was watching me. I tried to smile. Who I was trying to reassure was a bit confused at that time. The one thing I did know was so obvious that I could have painted it with all the vivid colors of my fear; we were in serious trouble.