Turthôl, dressed in the garb of the Haradrim, walked down the crowded street of the city. He didn't know what it was called. Baroden had sent him out to buy some rations. He didn't have enough for two men, so Turthôl needed to go buy some food for himself.
Baroden had told Turthôl to put on a Haradrim cloak so as not to attract attention. The people of Harad didn't like foriegner's. So, Turthôl pulled the hood of the cloak lower over his face.
He explored the bazaars of the market. The people of Harad were tanned people with dark hair. Must be from all the sun they get, he thought.
He looked up the street to see a shocking sight. A man, accompanied by two elves and followed by other people, were walking towards him. His breath caught in his throat. They were the company that Baroden had described to him! He saw that the man in front was that Rangar. He was accompanied by who must have been Calimir and Enien.
His mind raced. What should he do? If they recognized him, he was a dead man.
"Not if I can help it," Turthôl mumbled.
He backed up against the nearest building and pulled the hood even lower. His right hand went inside and gripped the hilt of his Haradrim scimitar. If they were to recognize him, he was ready.
As they drew nearer, he heard them say,"I know where we are going." That was Rangar. Turthôl looked up just barely enough to see them. The elf,Énien, was frowning.
"And where exactly would that be, my dear friend?" she said. Turthôl didn't want to risk being seen so he slowly looked down again. They passed by him slowly, discussing what they were going to do. All he could see was their feet.
They were almost passed him when they stopped. He could barely hear what Rangar was saying to the elves, but they had stopped. The others were waiting for them to figure out what they were doing before they proceeded. They were so close that he could hear many of the others talking amongst themselves.
"I need to replenish some medical herbs," said a woman. "I'm running low."
"Hopefully, we'll find an apothecary before we leave to se the Seer. How much money do you have, Carmilita?" said another woman.
"Not much, Wren. Do you think that these people take money from Gondor?" Carmilita asked.
"Probably," said a young man this time. "They must have Gondorian merchants comet through here once and a while."
"I don't know, Bregand. These people seem hostile to northerners," said Carmilita again.
"Let's ask somebody if they know where the apothecary is." That was the woman Wren.
Turthôl saw a pair of light traveling boots approach him. Then a voice said, "Excuse me, sir. Do you know where we can find the apothecary?" It was the woman Wren.
Turthôl didn't know what to do. His right hand was still in his cloak and he gripped the hilt even tighter. One swift stroke, and she'd be dead, but he'd be in a mess of trouble witht the rest of them. He didn't think that he could disguise his voice very well, so he just shook his head in the no response. The cloth around his neck shifted. What if they see the scars? he thought suddenly. The rope had wrapped so tight around his neck, that it had burned and cut him. With the shift of the cloth as he shook his head, he feared that the woman Wren would see his scar and become suspicious.
"Oh," she said. Without sticking around, he turned and walked off down the street.
"Hey! Come back!" she called but Turthôl ignored her. Had she seen? Turthôl hoped not.
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Turthôl burst into the room.
"Baroden! Rangar and the others are in the city!" he said.
"Did they see you?" he asked.
Turthôl hesitated, then said,"No."
Baroden gathered up his stuff. "Come, our plan changes. We are going to follow them. Maybe we can end this before they get to the Seer. If not, then we'll have to get them one by one or beat them to the Seer."
With their gear in tow, Turthôl and Baroden left to find Rangar and Co.
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In nomini domine saboath sui filique ite ad infernos.
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