Hellrien had followed the tracks a little ways north of the ruins, when she suddenly realized that they were not leading to Nan Dhelu.
Hellrien stopped her horse and stood up against the stirrups. Yes, the wide path of tracks seemed to be circling westwards from the fortress. But she needed to leave the tracks alone and return to Ost Guruth quickly.
It was already late afternoon, and if she wanted to get where she was going before nightfall, she needed to forget about the tracks for now. It was not safe to ride anywhere near Nan Dhelu anyway. She had never heard of anyone who had ridden too close to Nan Dhelu to come back to tell the tale, and her horse was getting restless. Hellrien felt it too – the inexplicable fear and sense that something was near. Something evil.
Both Hellrien and her horse were dusty and exhausted. The desert kept rolling from one horizon to another. It was monotonous, dry, sun-scorched inferno, and steep buttes, sandy mounds and thorny thistles were only variations to the landscape. Only wargs, orcs and giant spiders lived here. And yet the country was beautiful in it’s own, rare way, at least in Hellrien’s mind. There was something proud and uncompromising in the nature here. Only the strongest stayed alive and procreated. She turned her horse, left the tracks behind and continued her journey towards Ost Guruth.
She reached the city an hour later and left her horse there. The Eglain gave her dried meat and some kind of stone hard bread for provisions. There was a young man there, and by the glances he was sending her way Hellrien could see he had a crush with her. Hellrien didn’t flatter herself over the fact. She knew it was because she was a stranger who owned her own horse and had two swords strapped on her waists. She was a curiosity, something the Eglain lasses in Ost Guruth were not. But there was no time for that kind of entertainment now. After she had left her horse to the stables she walked out of the northeastern gate towards the red swamp that opened up below her.
A bog snake slithered diagonally along the side of a mossy knoll. Hellrien gave the reptile wide berth and continued on her way. Several times she stopped to see if there was movement anywhere near. But the swamp was dead and motionless in the red gloom of the setting sun. Without wasting a moment she kept walking towards the crevasse she knew was there, on the other side of the swamp. Walking along the soft ground as far away from the bog possible she found what she had been looking for just before nightfall.
She loaded her pipe. Were the defenders of Ost Guruth aware that a band of Créoth had been on a rampage in Talath Gaun? As far as she knew, this was the only way in and out of Agamaur, and it was always guarded by the defenders of Ost Guruth. When she approached the crevasse the darkness had already landed.
The dim twinkling of stars was enough for her to avoid most of the pits on the ground. And the outlines of the rocks were good signposts. She found the crevasse and walked through it, noticing all the ruins in the end of the crevasse, and stopped to sniff the air. It smelled of blood. The air itself seemed to be glowing in crimson red color. She had found the place she had been looking for.
”Who’s there! Stay still!”
Hellrien startled. She stood quite still. Another voice spoke: ”State your business, stranger!”
”I am Hellrien, of the Bloody Dawn mercenary company. I come alone.”
”Just a moment.” Then she heard a whisper: ”Walt, go tell Eriac. Quickly!” Then a voice addressed Hellrien again: ”Come closer, Hellrien of the Bloody Dawn. Please forgive us the rude reception.”
”It’s all right.” Hellrien couldn’t blame the him. A stranger walking into Barad Dhorn late in the evening was kind of peculiar.
Then there was another voice, and Hellrien could see several figures inside the gate near a staircase. ”What’s it about, soldier?”
”There is a woman here, sir. She states her name as Hellrien, of the Bloody Dawn mercenary company.”
”Well, summon her in then.”
Hellrien had to grin. She walked through the gate. Dark shapes gathered around her. She could see the dim shimmering of steel. They walked her towards a small, slender figure standing in the shadows.
”Miss Hellrien? I am Eriac. I am in charge here.”
Hellrien grasped his hand. ”Is there any way we can talk privately, Eriac?”
”Of course. Follow me, miss.”
Hellrien followed him towards the root of the tower. Warm glow of campfires illuminated the cramped courtyard. The Eglain soldiers were sitting in small groups. They stared at her curiously.
”Are you hungry, miss?”
”Maybe later”, Hellrien said. She showed Eriac the insignia that proved her to be a member of The Bloody Dawn. Eriac looked at it. ”The Bloody Dawn”, he muttered. ”All right, what can we do for you, Hellrien?”
”I have seen tracks of a Créoth band”, she said quickly and quietly. ”About five or six miles south of Nan Dhelu.”
”Créoth?”
”Yes. I have an arrow in my bag to prove it. There’s no doubt of it. They tortured two Eglain and killed them, in the ruins on the hill above Nan Dhelu. I was there by accident, a few days ago. Haven’t you heard the news yet?”
”No”, said Eriac. ”Nobody from Ost Guruth has come here in a week or or two. I wonder…”
”You wonder what, Eriac?” Hellrien asked sharply.
”I wonder if this is somehow related to the disappearance of a team we sent on a patrol mission to Agamaur a while back. They should have returned three days ago, at least.”
Hellrien didn’t say anything. It sounded like bad news to her.
”I followed their tracks for a bit”, she said. ”At first it looked like they were going to Nan Dhelu, but then they seemed to circle around it a bit to west.”
”When did this raid against the Eglain took place?”
Hellrien though about it. ”Maybe ten days ago, give or take.”
”Is that so. Would you like some wine, miss?”
Hellrien nodded.
Eriac passed her a wineskin. It tasted, as Hellrien had known it would, awful. The Eglain soldiers kept glancing at them curiously. They were suspicious before going to sleep.
”Very well”, said Eriac, ”tomorrow morning I will muster up a team to go search for the missing. Perhaps you could tell Frideric of our situation on your way back?”
”I would very much like to go with you”, Hellrien said briefly.
Eriac stared at her. ”I fail to see how this is a business of the Bloody Dawn?” His voice was cold and dismissive.
Hellrien met his gaze. She knew that without Eriac on her side there was not much she could accomplish here at all.
”Eriac”, she said. ”There’s one more thing. There was one track of boots among the Créoth that was likely not Créoth at all. Likely a woman’s boot… from west of here. Not a hill-man’s foot. Narrower, like mine.”
Eriac lowered down his wineskin. His eyes looked pitch black in the red gloom.
”That is curious”, he said slowly. ”What I would give for somebody who has actual experience from Garth Agarwen.”
Hellrien stretched her body. ”I have been in Garth Agarwen before.”
Eriac stared at her. ”You have been there? Inside Garth Agarwen?”
”Yes. About two years ago.”
”That is good to know. It can be helpful to us.” Suddenly Eriac seemed to lose interest in why Hellrien was so eager to help them. He passed the flask on her.
”Tell me about Garth Agarwen”, said Hellrien a little later.
”It’s an ancient fortress of Rhudaur”, Eriac responded. ”These days overrun by corrupt nature of Angmar. The name is Sindarin for ’Fortress of the Blood-maid’. About two hundred Créoth live there, and they worship an entity they call Blood-maid – or Red Maid. It is said that the Red Maid is the cause of the corruption of nature in Agamaur and Haragmar – the red water, the red mist. And the Red Maid wants blood – human sacrifice. I know a woman called Arienh who has managed to build good relations with the Créoth somehow. She’s a trader, and often ventures to the outer gates of Garth Agarwen to trade with them. There are not many Eglain who can go that close to the fortress and come back alive.”
”And these Créoth… they haven’t come through here?”
”Absolutely not. If what you are telling me is true, they must have found another way out of their fortress.”
”Have they done so ever before?”
”Not to my knowledge. And not in my lifetime.”
Eriac and Hellrien fell silent. They both got lost in their thoughts.
Eriac glanced at Hellrien. ”This woman you are seeking… who is she? Who can partner with the Créoth just like that?”
”I don’t know who she is. I have only seen her footprints.”
”Small westling boots among Créoth tracks?”
Hellrien nodded.
”Very strange. You said their victims were tortured… were their heads taken?”
Hellrien stared at Eriac. ”Yes, they were. Do you know anything about that?”
”Aye. They do that, the Créoth. It’s part of their worship. Human sacrifice. Usually among their own, but if they manage to capture any of us on patrol they will perform ritual torture and take their heads with them. Nobody knows what they will do with the heads.”
”If human sacrifice is the cause for this raid…” Hellrien muttered.
Eriac nodded. ”Nice, isn’t it? Whatever the Créoth are up to, it’ll be us they’re going to attack, sooner or later.”
They fell silent again. The fires went out. There was a change of guards, and quiet among the blankets.
