[Ealasaide]

Naiore

As Naiore pushed her captive into the camp high on the ridge above Imladris, the southern woman stumbled and fell. Barrold Ferny turned from where he had been tightening the cinch strap on the saddle of the bounty hunter’s gray horse. Naiore watched as his close-set eyes first widened in surprise then narrowed suspiciously.

"That ain’t Vanwe!" he objected harshly. He straightened, eying the southern woman with a mixture of irritation and, Naiore noticed, appraisal.

"How observant of you to notice, Barrold," she replied coldly. "Pick her up. If she pleases you, you may have her when she has fulfilled her usefulness to me. In the meantime, tie her to that tree." With a nod, Naiore indicated a scrubby tree near the fire pit, that stood well-removed from the boundaries of the camp. "We will soon be having company."

"Who?" asked Ferny. He reached out and grabbed the southern woman roughly around the elbow and dragged her to her feet. When Naiore did not answer immediately, he spat at the ground. "With all them elves around, and orcs, it’d be nice to know who’s coming for dinner," he grumbled. "Wouldn’t it, sweet’eart?" he added into the southern woman’s ear, a wide and rather lecherous grin creeping over his features.

The southern woman looked at him sharply and tried to jerk away, but Ferny’s grip was too tight on her arm. He pulled her back toward him, his eyes glittering dangerously.

"That’s enough," quipped Naiore. "Tie her to the tree. Make sure the bonds are secure."

For a brief instant, Ferny glared at Naiore, then dropped his eyes and did as he was told. "Later, sweet’eart," he muttered to the southern woman, pulling the ropes tight around her torso.

Naiore watched with detachment, letting her mind drift, searching, searching, searching... The bounty hunter would come. It was just a matter of time. She took a seat on a large stone, curling her long legs up under her, and waited. As the minutes passed, Barrold Ferny completed the preparations for their departure, his eyes slipping again and again in the direction of the exotic dark-haired woman tied to the tree. While this woman was no elf, Naiore could tell that Barrold Ferny had already decided her an apt substitute for Vanwe as part of his reward. She smiled to herself. Scoundrels like Barrold were so easy to control, to satisfy... so base. He was vastly different from Kaldir, who had been so interestingly difficult. She had enjoyed the challenge that the bounty hunter had presented back in Mordor when he had lived or died at her whim. It would have been enjoyable to joust with him again, but this time, she knew she did not have the time for games. She would use the leverage that she had in the person of the southern woman against him. And she would play no games. Finally, at last, Naiore felt the presence she had been waiting for. She sensed him faintly at first, on the far reaches of her consciousness, but it quickly grew stronger. The bounty hunter was coming.

Naiore turned to Barrold Ferny. "He comes," she said sharply.

"Who?" grunted Ferny yet again.

"An old friend," answered Naiore with a smile. "I believe you would be familiar with him in his professional capacity. A certain bounty hunter? It seems that we have his lady."

"Ah, crikey..."

"Be on your guard, Barrold." Naiore slid down from her perch on the stone and took up a position near the bound woman, her dagger in her hand.


***************************

Benia

"No..." Benia whispered. She twisted her hands behind her, feeling the coarse rope bite into wrists. An hour or so earlier, she had been upset with him and willing to believe any number of evil things about Kaldir, but now as he approached the trap that Naiore Dannan had set for him using her as the bait, Benia could only see him as the man who had delivered her and Gilly and Dúlrain safely into Imladris, and who had only a short while earlier held her hands in his and asked her to become his wife. She cast a fearful glance over her shoulder in the direction of the Ravenner. He must not be allowed to fall into such evil hands. Knowing that her life would be forfeit if she dared even to attempt to thwart the evil elf’s plans, Benia strained against her bindings. She came to a decision. As far as she could see, her life had already been forfeited.

"KALDIR!" she screamed at the top of her voice. "NO! SHE’S -" A sledgehammer-like blow struck Benia full in the face, cutting off her words, and plunging her into a state of semi-consciousness. Benia slumped against her ropes. Slowly, she struggled back toward consciousness. As her amber eyes fluttered open once more, she saw that the Ravenner had not moved, still standing like a woman of ice off to Benia’s side, her eyes distant and cold. Barrold Ferny grinned down from directly in front of her.

"Now, sweet’eart," he said in an oily tone. "That wasn’t too smart." He pulled a filthy handkerchief out of his pocket and shoved it deep into her mouth, snorting with laughter as she gagged and struggled to breathe. "I’ll hit you again if I have to..."

"Hush," ordered Naiore. Her clear gaze scanned the perimeters of the camp. Slowly, she stepped up behind Benia, raising the naked dagger to the bound woman’s throat.

Ferny stepped back, glancing around nervously.

"Greetings, dúnedan," purred Naiore in the direction of a thick patch of underbrush. "It has been a long time. You haven’t forgotten me, have you?"

When only silence answered her, Naiore laughed softly, a silvery sound that was both chilling and beautiful at once. Benia felt a trill of shivers race down her spine.

"It’s no use pretending that you are not here, my friend," she continued. "You are quite near. I can feel your presence. Show yourself that we might speak civilly."

Benia stared with horror as there was a soft rustling and Kaldir stepped into the clearing, his sword drawn. Still, he said nothing.

"Very good." Naiore raised the tip of her dagger to touch Benia’s face. Behind her, Benia heard Barrold Ferny draw his sword. "Now drop your sword," the elf ordered Kaldir, ignoring the man behind her.

Kaldir shook his head, his pale eyes filled with bitter loathing. "I cannot do that."

"You forget that I have something you value." Naiore’s blade traced gently down Benia’s cheek. "Shall I carve her up slowly? Would that suit you better? Perhaps I shall start with her eyes." The point of the dagger pricked the smooth skin just to the outside of Benia’s right eye. The muscles twitched along Kaldir’s jaw. Scarcely breathing, Benia watched as Barrold Ferny crept along the outside edge of the camp, moving himself into position behind Kaldir. She did not dare move as the tip of dagger pressed deeper into her flesh. She looked again at Kaldir‘s eyes and saw not loathing now, but pain.

"Give up your weapons and she lives," said Naiore. "I give you my word, my friend, but defy me and she shall die a slow and torturous death." Again, the chilling laugh. "I’m sure you know well what things I am capable of."

A long silence passed as the four of them stood motionless, in a temporary stale mate. Unable to speak, Benia prayed within her heart that Kaldir turn and walk away, leaving her to her fate. She had been foolish to wander off when she knew full well the danger that surrounded them. She deserved whatever happened to her. But he did not. Closing her eyes, Benia waited for the cut of the Ravenner’s dagger. Her heart sank as, instead, she heard the soft clink of steel striking gravel. Kaldir had dropped his sword.

"Search him and bind him!" barked Naiore to Ferny, withdrawing her dagger.

Benia opened her eyes in time to see Barrold Ferny kick Kaldir’s sword out of the bounty hunter’s reach. He sheathed his own blade and, fetching a rope, tied Kaldir's arms behind him, once at the wrist and again just above the elbows, pulling his broad shoulders back at an awkward angle. He attached a second rope, for additional control, around Kaldir's throat in the shape of a noose. Then, as Naiore watched, Ferny searched him for weapons, adding a small pile of daggers and small throwing knives to the sword on the ground. At last, Ferny nodded.

"He's clean."

Naiore stepped away from Benia and sheathed her dagger, returning to her place atop the stone. "Bring him to me."

As Ferny reached out to push the bounty hunter in the direction of Naiore, Kaldir, who had been enduring all of this in a smoldering silence, raised his head and gave Ferny threatening glare. Instinctively, Ferny dropped his hand and took a step backward. Scowling, he cinched up on the noose around Kaldir's throat instead. Naiore stilled him with a raised hand.

"What is it?" asked Naiore, her hand falling again toward the hilt of her dagger. "I thought we had a deal - your life for hers."

Benia watched as Kaldir nodded. "We do," he said gravely. "But I would like to speak with her first."

Naiore paused for an instant, then nodded her agreement. "Very well, but make it brief," she said impatiently. "You and I have much to do." Turning her gaze toward Ferny, she continued, "Take the rag out of her mouth. I don't think she will be screaming again."

Barrold Ferny did as he was told and, at a glance from Naiore, retreated a short distance away, still keeping a firm grip on the rope around Kaldir's throat.

"Why didn't you leave me?" Benia whispered as Kaldir stepped within a pace of her. "You should have left me."

Kaldir merely shook his head and bent to rest his scarred cheek against her soft hair. "She doesn't want you. She wants me," he said softly. "This way, I can perhaps gain you some time. Dúlrain will find you. I am sure of it."

"What will she do to you?"

Again, Kaldir shook his head. He started to say something else, but was cut off as Barrold Ferny, at a nod from Naiore, jerked sharply on the rope, causing Kaldir's head to snap violently backward. As he was dragged away, Benia heard his last words to her, uttered so softly that she nearly missed them:

"I'm sorry."

Unaware that she was even doing it, Benia made a soft keening sound in her throat as she watched him be forced down on to his knees in front of the Ravenner. Smiling serenely, Naiore uncoiled her long long legs and slid down from her rock. Her slender fingers stroked the bounty hunter's scarred face.