[The Barrow-Wight]

Akaaw dove beneath the trees and agilely threaded his way among the twisted branches until he arrived back at his cluttered nest. The flock was now fully awake, and those crows nearest to him watched expectantly as he landed on the dirty bundle of straw and twigs. He feigned surprise at the state of the place and made a show of tidying his home, tossing feathers, pieces of fur, and small bones over its edge. Finally, apparently finished with his housecleaning and pretending to only just notice the birds crowded around him, he stood suddenly to his full height and let out a great “kaCAW, CAW! kaCAW, CAW!”

The entire flock, thousands of birds strong, responded in one loud “kriiiCAW!” and then fell silent in expectation. Crow leaders soon began to fly in from all directions in answer to his summons, and lesser crebain moved to the side to make room for these important arrivals. The branches began to creak with their added weight.

Akaaw nodded respectfully as the ancient Fingot landed near him, but he turned an indifferent eye to his impertinent son. He spotted young Kadwyr above him, surrounded by his typical entourage of adoring females, and he noticed Krikaw and Brak on the branch beneath him whispering to each other but both keeping an eye on him. All but one of his leaders had responded to his call, and he was curious when that last crow would arrive. He decided he could wait no longer.

“The White Hand commands!” he croaked so that everyone in the tree could clearly hear him. The throng cheered loudly, and the excitement quickly spread through the flock until the forest trembled with its volume. Branches swayed and leaves shook as the birds bobbed up and down with raucous energy. Akaaw waited for them to quiet before continuing.

“We are leaving the protection of the Tower and going north into the mountains,” he said, noting calm enthusiasm in his young leaders but a hint of tired dismay in the ancient Fingot. Akaaw had no doubt the old bird would come on the journey, but he was not confident he would survive it. From the murmurs he heard from beyond his immediate vicinity, he could tell that Fingot was not the only creban unhappy about leaving the comfort of Isengard. Their dissent had to be squashed immediately with action.

“We are leaving immediately and will not be returning until we have found what the master seeks,” he commanded. “Captains, gather your companies.”