Hellrien woke up to an aching head and dry mouth, tongue gluing up to her palate, head still abuzz from the ale from yesterday's carousal. She wasn't sure what had awoken her in the middle of the night (she presumed - it was impossible to know for sure in the eternal darkness inside the Blue Mountains caverns).
She stood up, combed her thick golden brown hair with her fingers, yawned sweetly and went to wash herself up. After she had poured water in a yellowed porcline bowl she washed her face and hands. That cleared her head up a bit.
She went to her bed and sat on it. A lot had happened during the past few weeks. She had moved, for one - moved her meager worldly possessions from the small room in Thorin's Hall Inn to the newly completed Sworn Brotherhood Stronghold Barracks & Armory. It was her new home - a bed and a shelf for her things, in a big room filled with similar beds and shelves for other rank and file members of the Sworn Brotherhood. Soldier's life was not one of luxury - but at least you always knew where and when you would get your next meal. You had a roof over your head.
Suddenly it dawned to Hellrien that something was wrong. Where was everyone? At this time of night the barracks looked eerily empty.
She pulled on her uniform, boots and hat, attached her weapons to her back and rushed out to the hallway. She peaked outside and saw a regular convention going on in the courtyard. She recognized Burwod, Theawynn, Lythy the new recruit, hobbit recruits Prithbo and Fidgit... a host of Brotherhood members and allies, all seemingly agitated and upset about something. She must have been in a real deep slumber if she hadn't awoken from all the ruckus that had been going on in the barracks. She went outside and walked over to the gathering, trying hard to look like she had just come from performing some important duty. Like guarding, or watching the fire.
”What's going on?” she asked discreetly from Theawynn, the blonde young Rohirrim woman who had recruited her in the Order - who had died in the Lone-Lands but had been brought back to life by Korgaano, in exchange for his own. It was good to have Theawynn back though, even if the price had been more than anyone would have wanted. Theawynn was one of the closest friends she had in the stronghold.
”The sorcerer came back”, Theawynn explained to Hellrien in a low voice. ”The First Marshal is coming.”
Hellrien scratched her head, even more confused now than before, but decided not to ask more stupid questions for the time being.
”The sorcerer wants our heads!” Lythy bemoaned. ”He just appeared out of thin air!”
”So what do we do now?” Hellrien ventured to ask.
”Prepare for battle”, Burwod responded. ”He is hiding in the Forsaken City of Fornost. He told us so himself.”
A thumping of horse's hooves against the pavement interrupted their lively conversation. It was First Marshal Kerberrus. He dismounted, and all hailed him. After the formalities Theawynn imparted shortly to him all that had happened.
”How did he get in?” Kerberrus wanted to know.
”Your dwarven guards let him in!” Lythy blamed. ”He just told them he was an envoy of Burwod's and they bought it, the fools!”
”I go gather the guardsmen”, Theawynn said and turned to leave. ”I'll be back.”
”When shall we face this sorcerer?” Prithbo demanded to know, always eager for a fight in spite of his smallish frame.
There was some more agitated and heated but mostly meaningless discussion before Theawynn returned. First Marshal Kerberrus interrupted the murmuring:
”We need to check the area for traps. Deputy, gather some men and scout the area. I want every stone tur...”
A blow of alarm horn from the watch house interrupted Kerberrus.
”The guards!” Lythy exclaimed. Everyone rushed into a sprint, running towards the guard house. When they got there it was already too late. The dwarven guards had been all killed, arrows jutting in their backs. The assassin had been fast, but one had had enough time to blow the alarm horn. It occurred to Hellrien that the assassin was probably still here, waiting for them to appear, like lambs to the slaughter...
Theawynn moved so quickly Hellrien barely had time to react. Fast as lightning she had nocked her bow and sent an arrow flying. Another arrow swung by, inches away from Theawynn's head. A black shadow up on a cavern twitched, dropped his bow and disappeared behind a boulder, running towards the stairs that led deeper to the stronghold.
”Rohirric soldiers are blocking the stairs, he will not run far”, Kerberrus said calmly.
They rushed after the assassin, and true enough, once they had reached the top of the stairs the Rohan soldiers had already captured their man. Theawynn's arrow was jutting from his shoulder. The soldiers had also ruffed him up a bit, if only to beat further thoughts of misbehaving out of him. Hellrien started when she noticed his exceptionally dark skin. A Southron! Hellrien had seen a few Southrons in Pelargir when she had been a child, but she had not expected to meet one this high up in the north. Theawynn took the prisoner from the guards, locking his hand behind his back with a painful grip. The Southron winced, but wouldn't say a word.
”Lythy”, Burwod ordered, ”go to the armory to check that all is in order.”
”At once, Deputy!”
”Take him to jail, Deputy”, Kerberrus ordered.
Burwod took the prisoner from Theawynn. The Southron grimaced, brimming with hatred.
”Your guards”, he snarled, ”they died so very easily.”
Burwod twisted his arm and the assassin growled in pain. ”No talking!” Burwod grunted. Kerberrus blew his horn and they could hear a sound of marching hooves from the distance as Rohirric cavalrymen begun blockading the area. They walked over to the jailhouse. Once inside, Kerberrus opened a cell door and Burwod grabbed the dark-skinned assassin from the neck and threw him inside. The man sat down on a bunk. Kerberrus took Burwod by the arm and lead him into another room.
”Run, you fools!” he taunted. ”Run, for your homelands are about to die. The sorcerer awaits you... and he will kill you all!”
”Hellrien”, Theawynn sighed, ”if he talks again, shoot him!”
”With pleasure”, Hellrien said grimly as Theawynn followed Burwod and Kerberrus. Hellrien was left alone with the Southron. The man stared at her, eyes fuming with vile fury.
”Little girl...” he hissed. ”Are you ready to face your death?”
Hellrien sighed and rolled her eyes. Did this man have a serious death wish, or did he not believe Hellrien would go on with it? She felt tempted... but did Theawynn really want her to kill him? Maybe they wanted to question him first? But she couldn't leave his insolence go unpunished either. Licking her lips she walked inside the cell and gave the man a vigorous kick in the midriff. The assassin groaned and hunkered in his bed, but managed to snarl through gritted teeth:
”Is that all you got, child?”
”What are you doing in there?” demanded First Marshal Kerberrus' stern voice from the door.
”I... I was asked to guard him... and he...”
”If he gives trouble, shoot him from the door. Don't get close to him. Get out of the cell.”
Hellrien obeyed. At the same time the jailhouse door opened and Lythy stormed in. ”We have a problem!”
”What is it?” Kerberrus wanted to know.
”A map is missing from the armory - the map to Fornost. The sorcerer must be behind it! He wants us to go there blind!”
The prisoner let out a chilling chuckle from the cell. ”My Lord awaits you in Fornost. Your Captain is being held there too.”
”And who exactly is your Lord?” Kerberrus demanded. Another bone-chilling laughter was the only answer he got.
”Which Captain?” Kerberrus pressed on.
”You will all die by his hand. Your Captain is being tortured as we speak.”
”You disgusting scum”, Kerberrus snarled, walking into the cell. He clenched his armored hand and punched it to the assassin's face, hard. The Southron spat out blood and teeth, but still giggled like a madman. Kerberrus kicked him in the stomach.
”Speak up!”
Another man entered the jailhouse. Hellrien had seen him in the stronghold a few times before, but she didn't know who he was.
”What's going on here?” the man demanded. Burwod peaked his head out from another room.
”Serathil?”
”Burwod? Sorry about intruding but...”
”This man is a Haradrim assassin”, Theawynn explained, pointing at the man Kerberrus kept pounding into meatloaf, as he stubbornly refused to answer his questions and kept mocking, almost as if he enjoyed the pain. ”He killed our guards.”
The jailhouse door creaked open again and the hobbit Prithbo sauntered in.
”Captain!” Prithbo piped up. ”I have dire news! I found all the guards of the House of Healing decapitated and the healer was dead too, from a knife wound in his main artery. They are all dead!”
The news threw everyone in a fit of rage. Lythy and Theawynn entered the cell and began beating up the Southron. Lythy pulled out a knife, stabbing the man in leg. Serathil raised his voice: ”Once again, what is the meaning of this?”
”He did it!” Theawynn yelled. ”He killed them!”
Kerberrus raised his index finger and looked at one of his archers at the door. The archer nodded and quietly nocked his bow, aiming it at the Southron prisoner's throat. ”This is your last change”, Kerberrus said in a menacing voice. ”Speak up!”
”Your Captain... Dorvairse”, muttered the prisoner, finally beaten into submission but still full of contempt and hatred.
”Where was he taken? And by whom?”
”Orcs... Crúmgam. Crúnmgam will... torture your leader.”
”Where in Fornost?”
”Dorvairse will die...”
”My turn”, Burwod said, pushing past Kerberrus.
”For the sake of all our safety”, Theawynn yelled, ”just kill him already!”
”If you don't, I will!” Lythy promised.
Burwod reached out his hand and grabbed the Southron's head in a steely grip. ”For all you have done to us...” Burwod squeezed. His massive muscles flexed and trembled for a second or two, the Southron's eyes bulged... and then his head exploded like a rotten melon. His corpse fell on the floor like a ragdoll.
Silence fell inside the jailhouse. For a few seconds nobody even dared to breathe. Kerberrus was the first to talk: ”Deputy, we must at once send men to Fornost. I will personally lead a squad there... to find an orc named Crúmgam.”
Burwod shook his head. ”Not an orc. Crúmgam is the sorcerer. Ranesora and Jorgon are already at Fornost.”
Suddenly the room was filled with frantic chatter as everyone was offering their ideas for the best course of action, all talking over each other.
”Silence!” Burwod bellowed to quiet the room. He looked evenly at everyone in turn. ”As far as we know, my father is in Imladris.”
The jail door slammed open once again. It was the Beorning woman, Aaverie. She looked wild and fierce. Her eyes were burning and she was breathing heavily, grasping for air. Her lips were trembling, but before anything came out she lurched and collapsed on the floor. ”I have to... tell something...” she panted. ”Information... spy. Haschirgael... Dorvairse... danger!” She was holding something in her hand, a red silk cloth wrapping. She loosened her hand of the object and it dropped on the floor. ”Assassins... Angmarians... Dorvairse...”
”Aaverie!” Theawynn yelped and rushed over, kneeling by her side. Theawynn tapped Aaverie's cheek. ”Aaverie... talk to me! Get me some water, quickly!”
Burwod grabbed a jar from a nearby table and handed it to Theawynn, who applied some on Aaverie's face. Kerberrus picked up the object wrapped in red silk from the floor. Aaverie opened her eyes, eyelids trembling, and noticed the people gathered around her.
”I'm... weak. I traveled all the way from the Lost Bridge. The... cloth... open it.”
Kerberrus handed the wrapping to Burwod who opened it. Inside was an ornate dagger, shimmering in the candlelight. ”My father's dagger...” Burwod breathed. ”Where did you find this, Aaverie?”
”I thought he was in Imladris?” Hellrien asked.
”He was making his way here”, Burwod said.
”I'm afraid he didn't make it”, Aaverie said, allowing Theawynn to help her sitting into a chair. ”There was a Haradrim, making his way here... I captured him in the Lone-Lands. He told me that Haschirgael... he said that the she-elf didn't make it to Imladris. That she was ambushed and killed. And that Dorvairse left Imladris to find her but was captured near the Lost Bridge. I tortured the Haradrim for more answers but he would not give any. Then he escaped. I could not believe what he had told me, so I immediately traveled to the Lost Bridge where I found the dagger... but no corpses. No signs of Hashcirgael or Dorvairse.”
”Aaverie...” Burwod sighed. ”I believe what you say, but I don't believe the words of the Haradrim. My parents are not dead, neither of them! Let's all gather in the Great Hall. We must make plans.”
