The sun had sunk beneath the far off mountains of Emyn Uial by now, bathing the sky in fantastic shades of orange, scarlet, and purple. Esteldin lay somewhere beneath him, hidden among the hills and trees. The world seemed at peace. It was hard to believe the fear that had truly taken hold. Unless, of course, you looked to the north. The northern sky seemed darker than it ought to have been. As if a storm, was constantly building, and would soon break. In a way, I suppose that is the case, Leothross thought.
He thought of the stories of the past that had transpired in this very land, the battle for Fornost, and the fight against the Witch-King. They had ridden by those fields just today, on their way from Trestlebridge.
The company gathered early in the square. Zargodon checked his and Eruthaiwen’s saddle bags, tightening, and retightening, insuring everything was ready. Today would be a longer ride, they knew. Finally, he said, “All is ready, I hope?”
Leothross, still stretching his limbs, preparing them for another day on horseback, took stock of the group. All were present and accounted for it seemed. “I think so. We should make Esteldin today,” he finally answered.
Eruthaiwen nodded, though looking sadly over the forlorn village. Acurith reassured her, “There’s nothing we can do now… except avenge them. I’ll be glad to put this stench behind. It brings back bad memories.”
Eruthaiwen sighed sadly, saying, “And there is little I can do to avenge them; I am no warrior. But I have done what I can for now.” Zargodon finished tightening the straps, and turned to regard Acurith, “Bad memories? Do try to tell us why, this time at least… or is this one of those things you would rather keep to yourself?”
She retorted, “And you are far too inquisitive for your own good, Elf.”
He had lain a gentle comforting hand on Eruthaiwen’s shoulder, and shook his head at the accusation. His voice, though it attempted lightness, was heavy with care as he responded in turn, “And you are far too enigmatic for mine.”
“Perhaps your questions will be answered soon…” she acquiesced through a sad smile, “But are we gathered here to put me against an interrogatory or to hinder the plans of the Enemy?”
Leothross, ignoring his own curiosity as best he could, shook his head, “Not at all. In fact, we should go. We will need to make good time today. Ready?”
The path that day took them very near the Fields of Fornost. Leothross, for his part, was disappointed that they would not see the ancient city. He had seen it a few times before, but it held a particular fascination for him. Indeed, as they reached the crossroads that would lead them away to the east, he slowed his horse to a stop, and gazed over forlorn fields. There was an unhuman feeling about the place. Strange voices could be heard on the wind, and the spirits of the oathsworn soldiers were said to haunt some of the burial mounds.
It seemed he was not the only one fascinated by the place. All stopped beside him, except Zargodon who trotted on a little further and dismounted. “I just want to take a look,” he said. Following his lead, Leothross dropped his reins and slid off. He walked up beside Zargodon, standing there silent for a few moments.
Behind them, Eruthaiwen whispered, “What destruction the armies of Angmar can bring.” She looked warmly on Acurith beside her and remarked, “I am glad you are with us. Should we fall into danger, I would be reassured having you here as well.” Acurith did not respond, but only gave her a strange look.
Leothross finally asked, as if the question had been brewing awhile, “Zargodon, forgive me if this is rude, but… were you, y’know, alive for the Fall of Fornost?”
The question caught Acurith’s ear as well, and they listened anxiously for his response. To their disappointment, Zargodon shook his head with a light chuckle, “No, no. And you need not apologize. It was before my time. I am but a youngster amongst our people. As is Eruthaiwen here.”
Eruthaiwen nodded, “I know Ramield was, Vearra spoke of it once, but the elf herself would not.”
“Ah, I would have loved to see Fornost in its glory,” Leothross said, with some disappointment.
Zargodon nodded, “Yes, so would I have seen many of our lands restored to what they were. But time is a cruel tool in the wrong hands.”
Acurith had followed the train of thought, and said in a far off voice, as if they were intended to be merely thoughts, “I wonder what it was like to fight alongside the Witch-King himself… those men of the North must have been terrified at the sight of him.”
Zargodon looked pointedly at her, saying, “Surely you meant something else, my lady.”
She shrugged, putting on an innocent nonchalance, “What? It’s not every day you see one of the Nine on the battlefield. I was just pondering…”
“Never forget the glee with which they fought, Acurith. They pitted more enjoyment in the killing of innocence then you might think. Ponderings can be revealing, you have pondered a great deal already.” He muttered as he mounted his horse once again.
“I know the pain the loss of innocence brings,” she spoke through a grimace.
Leothross, also having heard the words, mumbled as he returned to his own steed, “I hope I never have to face that.”
Once they had all returned to the crossroads, he says, “Well, sadly, here we turn east. Are we ready?”
They were, though Zargodon lagged behind them at first, surveying the group, and thinking.
Several hours later, the company rode into Esteldin, that hidden encampment of the rangers.
The dark was growing now. His thoughts had occupied him longer than he had thought. But he did not get up. It was too peaceful. And tomorrow would likely not be. He gazed around the horizon, noting with satisfaction the stars beginning to show ever brighter. But again it was the northern sky that held his gaze. It could have been his imagination, but it seemed that a dull red glow crept up over the mountain tops. He shook his head, and looked away. It would not do to let fear gain a foothold now, on the doorstep.
He gazed back into the west, his eyes falling from the horizon to the forests that grew along the foot hills. He caught sight of something that both startled, and excited him. It couldn’t be could it?
The lumbering shape of a bear broke through the trees and made its way up the hillside to him. Yes it was. The ever faithful Throssian had followed him after all. The bear, who dwarfed the sitting figure, stopped with his open mouth mere inches away from Leothross’ head. Throssian looked at him, a peculiar expression on his face, if you could read the face of a bear. Leothross did not hesitate by regarding his face, but rose and hugged the creature, burying his hands in its thick coat. “You didn’t have to come. I would have told you to stay, if I could have found you. It is going to be dangerous. But you know all about that. You have seen what I have seen. I am glad you are here.”
He stood there, leaning on his friend, his hands still buried in the fur, and watching the gloaming turn into darkness, the fear banished from his heart.
