Bird on a Wire - Part 1
Bird on a Wire - Part 2
Bird on a Wire - Interlude 1
Bird on a Wire - Part 3
Bird on a Wire - Part 4
Bird on a Wire - Part 5
Bird on a Wire - Interlude 2
As night fell over the crossroads of Waymeet our strange trio were speaking in low tones near their campfire. Braichanar had rejoined Xanderian and Audea after scouting through the Rushock Bog towards the gate of Needlehole.
Braichanar unrolled a small map, whispering. “I now see my assumption was correct. To escape as much notice as possible, they have taken a route through the Bridgefields and gone North of Hobbiton as well. They did not return to the main road until just before reaching the bog where they could expect few observers.”
Xanderian nodded. “And from there they will have a clear road through the Needlehole Gate and onward to foul Kheledul.
Audea cleared her through awkwardly. “Um...What or where is Foul Kheledul.. exactly?”
The elleth nodded, forgetting that this was likely the furthest Audea has ever strayed from Bree. “Kheledul is a port built and fortified by the Sons of Durin at the waxing of the Third Age in the foothills of Ered Luin, called in Westron the Blue Mountains. However as the mountain folk returned to their liberated homes in Erebor, so their strong places elsewhere fell to disuse.”
Xanderian spoke as both ranger and Breelander listened intently, her original training as a scholar and historian of Arnor clear. “As the attention of the Sons of Durin was elsewhere, Kheledur was claimed as the fortress of a clan of Dwarves called Dourhand. Under their chieftain, a madman called Skorgrim, in their greed and foolishness they formed a pact with the men of Angmar for power and riches to rival the hated Longbreads. What they received was corruption. Kheledul became a city of slavers and scoundrels, the hub of an evil trade in souls and black sorcery that stretches from Breeland and the Shire up into Angmar and then out into the far reaches of the East, all orchestrated by Angmar and their Dourhand lackeys.”
The elleth shook her head softly, as memories overtook her for a moment. “Today Kheledul is ruled by a small group of Dourhand called the Overseers who manage the wealth and despair that flows in and out of the port. The prince of these Overseers is a slaver I and my sister have had business with before and hopefully will again, called Mans. He himself answers only to Donark, Paymaster of Angmar and his creatures, and his word is law in Kheledul.”
The ranger tilted his head as Xanderian fell silent. “And if this Mans is so evil, what business are you hoping to conduct with him?”
“His death…” The elleth smiled as she said “death” and Audea shivered slightly, remembering the vicious, brutal Xan of her dream.
Braichanar nearly laughed at Xanderian’s matter of fact answer. “Then if we encounter him this night, we shall do our best to help you conclude your business.” The ranger paused, awkward for a moment. ''I speak of 'we,' though I am merely conjecturing with the assumption that I will be among your number. ''
The huntress smiled and bowed. “I cannot speak for Audea, but I will be pleased to have you at our side, Man of the North"
Audea nodded, repeating 'Ered Luin' under her breath thoughtfully. Then, she perked a bit, gaze settling on Braichanar. "I already said we could really use yer skill, aye? Sure would feel safer havin' a Ranger come along.."
Braichanar placed his fist upon his chest, near the clasp which bore a star. ''I will serve as I may, though this night's fruitless hunt showed me a sorry hunter.'' He tilted his head. ''I am endeared to Audea of Bree, the fearless girl in edhel armour.'' He nods to Xanderian. ''It has been an honour to fight alongside the Nightwind, as well.''
Audea smiled, a real, genuine, almost toothy smile as the ranger spoke. There was hope in her heart now, most definitely. "He has nicknames like you do, Miss Xan," she said with a glimmer of amusement in her eye.
Xanderian smiled as well. “Indeed...and this is a saga that will give you much to sing of before it is done, my Songstress. Our friend the Viper will regret dismissing you so easily in the Pony before this is over, thinking you a simple village girl.”
Audea suddenly curled her hands into tight fists, her jaw clenching once again. "We'll see wha' he thinks when this sword is in his gut."
Braichanar frowned, the girl’s reaction bringing to mind a question that had been on his mind. ''If it should come between revenge and the life of this Hawk, what will you choose? Evil men are oft driven to feats of great evil when it appears their grand schemes have come to naught.'' Xanderian watched Audea closely as the trio grew quiet after the ranger’s question...her gaze a strange mix of affection, pride, and deep abiding sorrow.
Audea snapped her hard gaze over to Braichanar, her lips pursing a tad. Once a few silent seconds had passed, the girl’s shoulders relaxed and her fists uncurled into mere hands. "It'll always be Hawk," she responded quietly.
Braichanar seemed to be studying her resolve, his gray eyes heavy on her, until he nodded. ''That you have fallen under this shadow pains me, and I pray that is not a choice you will be forced to make.'' He looked at Xanderian, and it was as if he was speaking aloud the words 'you know as well as I, Nightwind, that this grand chase may lead to disaster.'
Xanderian nodded softly to the ranger...and in her eyes a soft shift was apparent. She was sworn to do all she can to save the Urchin, but her oath, her devotion, had somehow moved to Audea.
Ignorant of all this, Audea bowed her head and shut her eyes, just taking a short time to collect herself. It was clear that she was now more furious than ever, having already done her fair share of sobbing, though she was trying not to let the anger get the best of her. Once images of her bloodied blade flashed behind her eyelids, she opened them again, and peered up to the two. “I am ready…let’s be a’bout it.”
Braichanar turned and lowered his cowl enough to whistle a strange note, long and loud. Not long after, a beautiful blue-black roan, with rich Elven barding approached from the scrub, coming to heel at Braichanar's side.
Xanderian didn’t even seem to whistle...she just held out a hand as her sleek gray horse wandered up, as if it had been grazing nearby and just felt like walking that way.
Audea appeared somewhat taken aback. One moment, it was just them, and suddenly, there was all sorts of horses around. She looked between the two of them, without a horse or even the knowledge to ride, unsure of what she was expected to do.
Xanderian smiled...and held a hand down to the Songstress. “Her name is Rainfall, and she will happily bear us both.” Audea reached up for her hand, and with no small amount of help from Xanderian, hoisted herself up onto the back of the steed.
The girl wrapped her arms around the Elf in a warm embrace as she settled in behind her on the bareback horse. "Thank you, Miss Xan.. I'm glad y'came, 'cause I have no idea wha' I'm doin'.."
Xanderian smiled…whispering in reply. “Once dear one, I proclaimed us sisters for our love of the same man. But now we are sisters through shared hardship and strife....I swear to you, just as with those nearest my heart, I shall stand with you for all of your days.”
Audea blushed in the darkness, pressing her cheek against Xanderian’s back. "An' all stand by yers," she said quietly in return, giving Xanderian a tighter squeeze, but wether this was from affection, or fear as the horses started to gallop towards the Rushock Bog, no one could say.
As they rode, Braichanar spoke in clipped tones. ''A final word of caution: there has been much unrest on the Bounds of late. Dourhand dwarves as Xanderian described, or their cohorts, have been sighted near the Needle. They may prove a hindrance to our passing.''
The elleth nodded. “If the Dourhand stray so far from their holes as the gate, then they do so with purpose. As they are in thrall to their Angmarim masters, then clearly Angmar does business with this Viper. I suspect that stealth is pointless now...our best hope is to rush upon them.”
Audea flited her gaze over to the Ranger once again, holding on more tightly to Xanderian. "Wha'? There's... There's no way we can go 'round? Can't sneak past?"
Braichanar was firm. “No, the Nightwind speaks the truth of it. If we are to pass through, we must do so by force. Time is against us now more than ever...Perhaps it meet we leave the girl at a distance.”
Audea raised her voice to be sure Braichanar could hear her, focusing a hard stare at his back. "Yer -not- leavin' me behind."
The huntress spurred her horse, drawing level with the ranger’s roan. “No...Audea must see this through, with her own eyes, and by her own hand. She has earned that.”
Braichanar was silent a moment, and then there was a quiet sound, maybe a sigh. ''Far be it from me to deny her the justice she seeks. This will be no pretty thing for a Bree lass.''
“She is a Bree lass no longer...nor is she easily intimidated.” Xanderian’s voice grew warm and strong, as if intoning a poem of her people. “She now is Audea, Love's Blade.....and I am proud to fight beside her.”
Audea was stunned and couldn’t muster up another thing to say. Xanderian had taken the words right out of her. With the smallest of smiles, her hold around the Elf's abdomen tightened again, this time clearly a hug.
Braichanar paused and pointed out across the Bog. ''There is the road.'' He slid from the saddle, slowing his horse just enough, and the steed went on without him. He gestured silently to Xanderian, whispering. “If there are foes about, they will be within sight soon.”
The elleth brought her horse to a stop and slid down, helping the girl to the ground. “Audea....We will seek to slay those who stand between us and our love from a distance, but that will likely prove only partially successful. If anyone confronts you that is not myself or the Ranger, slay it without question. We have no friends here now…only ourselves.”
Audea brought her hand to the hilt of her blade. She remained silent, maybe even a tad hesitant, but nodded nevertheless.
Braichanar turned his attention to Audea. She had her armour, and her blade...and a stout heart. Perhaps that would be enough. ''I shall flank the Bog, I suggest you take Audea by the path, Nightwind.''
The elleth nodded, “Whatever I must do, she will not be harmed”
Audea had been watching the town in the distance up until her name was spoken. Then, she turned her gaze to the two once more, and carefully drew her weapon. "Don't get yerself hurt fer me, Miss Xan.. please. I can take care’a myself."
Braichanar gave the Elf a look. ''Avo gesto an drastad; tol angin, Don't look for trouble; it comes to you.'' he murmured, almost with humour.
Xanderian just smiled....and the trio set forth into Needlehole.
