“I will be gone for two hours or so, don’t you all worry. It is just a small walk,’’ These words proved enough for an excuse. The walk would take more than two hours. With all luck it wouldn’t take longer than a day or so. A little lie about getting lost or so might do the trick, or maybe they wouldn’t even bother that much with the disappearance? Tidhelm did not looked forward to going to Minas Angor, he would most likely have some trouble with convincing the Wild-man, but these shadows that followed now needed to be dealt with. It was some time before noon, the sun was rising.
The ‘’walk’’ took several hours. The horse from Bree-land was getting tired, yet she was about to gain her much needed rest. There was only one path that lead to the ruins, covered in shrubbery. If a lost traveller would come here and lay an eye on the crumbling ruins in the distance, he or she would only think it as an abandoned relic from the past. Yet it was not as it seemed. The horse made a stop a few feet from the gates of the ruin. Tidhelm got off the horse and walked over to the passage into the ruin, waiting at its doorstep. Tidhelm cleared his throat and spoke in a demanding voice: ’’I wish to talk to the leader of this ruin. Show yourself to a servant of the White hand of Isengard!’’
There was no response for some seconds until a rough looking man dressed in furs and rags was coming around one of the corners, followed by others that waited to ambush Tidhelm if he would come into the ruins uninvited. One of them looked slightly more armoured, wearing some crude kind of mail armour. He spoke a harsh voice: “You are not welcome here, man of the South. It is that we cannot send an important man like you away. State your business.’’ Tidhelm was not fond of the tone of this door warden but the old noble needed to get inside. ‘’I only wish to consult your leader, after that I will be on my merry way again.’’ The hill-men were still wary of this strange visitor, yet they seemed to move out of the way, letting Tidhelm pass unchallenged. The sun was setting.
It was not hard to find the leader of the camp. There were only a couple of tents, and one rose above all the others. It was a rather large round tent made of cloth of some kind. It would have been large enough for ten or so Hill-men if you looked in which little tents they slept. After the old noble eyes were adjusted to the little light that was coming into the tent, he could finally see the one he was looking for. Tidhelm raised a brow at seeing the woman. She had raven black hair and a rather pretty face for a savage like her. She wore some kind of dress or robe adorned with some kind of crude gold. She was looking rather annoyed at this interruption, Tidhelm thought that she was already asleep before he came to the ruin. The old noble gave a little bow and spoke in a soft voice: ‘’I apologise for coming to you on this late hour yet I require a service of the Hill-men.’’ The woman spoke in a rather soothing voice for someone of her kind: ‘’How do you even know that we are mustered here? Even the elves know not of our force.’’ Tidhelm rose again and continued: ‘’The white wizard sees most that others doesn’t. He knows were forces dwell that are hidden to most, Vátair of the Corcur.’’ Vätair looked rather surprised at the old man that knew her name, yet she found it smarter, and quicker, to just be quick about it. “How can I help our ally? What is it that you want of us?” Tidhelm gave of a smile before responding: “There is a small group of elves that followed me to here, not more than three. They are most likely hiding somewhere on the path leading to here. If you wish to remain in the shadows, I advise you to deal with them quickly.” Vátair seemed to curse in some tongue unknown to Tidhelm and took a sword that was laying nearby and hurried to the exit of the tent before standing still again. “We will deal with this problem for you, yet you need to answer to the leader of this camp. He is deeper in these ruins.” The woman left, leaving Tidhelm in confusion behind. The moon was at its highest point when the old noble headed outside the tent.
Tidhelm walked out of the ruins at the break of dawn. Pale was his face and weak were his legs. The old man was known to evil beings but against such a shadow even the mightiest warrior would tremble. Red robes adorned with yellow letters shrouded a darkness that would take the heart of lesser man if he would simply gaze at it. The being that commanded Minas Angor was clear in his demand for Tidhelm in return of taking care of his burden. It was a task that would help the White hand as well so there was little harm in completing it when the time will arise. When the old noble mounted his horse again and rode away, he could see a couple of Hill-men standing around two corpses. There were about seven hill-men in a pile not far from the group. Vátair seemed to be the first to pick a spoil from the battle. She pulled a long and decorative knife out of the grasp of one of the elves. She took some time inspecting it before looking over at Tidhelm. “It took seven of my man to take down these two. I hope that it was worth it to you!” She held out her hand and gave a piece of parchment of sorts. Tidhelm unfolded the message and read it with little trouble. The woman looked surprised at the Horse-lord reading the writings of the elves. Tidhelm gazed at her when he was finished: ‘’One can never know to much about his enemies. Their tongue was not simple to learn yet it was worth the trouble. These elves will not be missed for a week at most so make sure that their bodies are gone of here before that time.” Tidhelm rode away before any could react. It was dawn when Tidhelm rode on the main road again, toward the East. His problem was taking care of. No elf would spy upon the deeds that needed to be done in Eregion.
