The messenger approached the small house set upon the rolling hills of prairie south of the Misty Mountains and west of Rohan. The foundations were set deep in the earth and the walls were hewn of rough stone. The roof was made of wooden logs and straw thatch. As she drew closer up the hill she could see through the sunlight that it was burnt. Smoke marks scored the stone where the roof had touched the walls. The birds ceased their noise and the wind no longer whispered through her ears. Silently Asmalinde drew Varyando from its sheath. She left her shield strapped on the horse and rode forward. As she crested the hill and entered the gate the elf realized the fires had been cold for some time. Blood streaked the stone walls near the front door and several bodies in vulgar poses were scattered through the yard. Her horse blew breath from his nostrils to vent his disgust from the sights and smells before him.
Cautiously Asmalinde dismounted and studied the scene before her. The bodies in the yard were human mixed with the occasional white hand orc. They were huge brutes marked with the white hand of Saruman on their helmets and gear. Dozens of ironshod feet had torn the turf and track of the walkway into mush. What once had been a thriving farm had been turned into a charnel house. Keeping her sword, the messenger approached the human bodies in the yard. The first was an older man with white hair and a beard. A broken spear was in his hand and his face had been mutilated. The next body was a young man hardly older than a boy. The back of his head had been crushed and he was face down on the ground. He must have been running away when he was struck. A woman was down in the doorway. Asmalinde could tell she must have been trying to get the door shut and bolted when the orcs swooped down on them. A large leaf bladed spear point was embedded in her chest. The end of the spear had been broken off. The killer must not have been able to remove the spear point from the woman.
Asmalinde did not need to tie her mount to the hitching rail. Elven trained, he would never wander off, she left him in the yard. Still prepared for danger the elleth walked around to the back of the house. There were no bodies here but several cows lying dead in the pathway that wound to what was left of the barn. Wheat or some kind of barley had risen over the wood hewn fence rails and waved with the wind that had now picked up again. Time seemed to have started again.Asmalinde made her way back to the front of the farmhouse and eyed the lonely body of the woman in the doorway. She was older like the first man she had found. She must have been his wife. Taking a deep breath the messenger avoided the lifeless, accusing eyes of the woman and stepped inside the door.
Since awakening in the houses of healing in Imladris, Asmalinde had seen death and destruction. She had even caused some of it to the allies of Sauron but nothing ever prepared her for the death of children. Lined up in a row near the fireplace were three girls and two boys. The orcs had taken their time and had used tools they had found in the barn. Fury ran through Asma’s mind as she studied the handiwork of evil. She steadied herself and searched the rest of the dwelling. Furniture had been ripped to shreds. The fire had destroyed most of everything but the main room with the bodies had remained intact. As the westward sun gleamed through the door Asmalinde noticed a symbol burned into the wood of the mantle. A gem of some kind. She had never seen orcs use this type of badge before. The elleth walked outside and took a good breath of the clean air. She made her way to the barn in search of a shovel.
Close to the home was another hill. Green grass and flowers garnished the top like a blanket. Eight mounds of dirt marred the ground and each was covered with a wreath Asmalinde had woven of flowers and stalks of grain from the fields. The elleth stood in front of the graves, and crossed her arms over her breasts in silent respect. After a moment she sang an ancient elven prayer. She had dragged off the dead orcs in the yard and burned them. Even now black smoke marred the horizon where she had set them ablaze. She did not care if the white hand returned.
‘Let them.’ she said aloud, surprised at the sound of her own voice.
She had been away from Imladris for three weeks after Lord Elrond had sent her away. She did not understand why. Asmalinde had rode into Rivendell days before Xanderian and her troupe had arrived. She had given the young elf a promise to aid them in their travails and had hoped to smooth the waters between Elrond and her new friends. The Lord of Wisdom would have none of it. ‘What has occurred is not for you to decide. There must be a reckoning and accountability for their actions. I do have something else for you however. A task that must be completed as quickly as possible.’ He said.
Asmalinde had left a message for the group with one of the guard captains, Moriath and rode off into the dusk. Stars welcomed her passage and lit the trail for her. She was going back to Gondor. There were urgent dispatches from the council to the elves of Edhellond. Danger was before her. The fields of Rohan were more perilous than before. The orcs of Saruman were everywhere and the lack of leadership among the Thanes had hamstrung the Rohirrim from preventing the scourge. The people of the Mark were locked up in their townships to stay safe. She was also a dwimordene to them. Many considered her pointed ears to be a sign of sorcery or witchcraft. The messenger had plenty of lembas she could avoid people, much as she had travelling through the Shire and Breeland.
Her prayer completed, Amalinde looked again at the graves before her and swore to herself that before too long there would be an end to this kind of thing. If only she could remember. If only she could return to her old self. She would travel to Mordor and call out Sauron himself.
She smiled grimly, ‘And a frog would not bump his arse if he had wings, would he?’
She sipped at her flask of Miruvor and watched as the velvety stars shone through the dusk and into the night sky. She mounted her horse and rode off into the east.
