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Old 09-28-2003, 01:50 PM   #34
Belin
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Tolkien

Hillmen

They held their meeting in the house of their priest, their usual public space. It was small and choked with smoke, and the nearness of the mysterious and revered individual who lived there, the only one in the village who lived alone, made most of the Hillmen uneasy, but all of this was to Wolf’s advantage as a speaker. They watched him closely, too nervous to murmur among themselves the rumors they’d all heard by now. Wolf surveyed them with a certain grim sorrow. Over the years, he’d found value in many of them, and he did not like to spend them in such a way. But he trusted their strength, and, remebering the rather pitiful, if large, band of travelers he’d seen, he reminded himself that it was useless to despair before they’d made an attempt. Surely they had nobody to answer Stone, or Spear, or Smoke.

Bear and Fletch came in late, and pushed past the others to sit as far from each other as possible. Both were glowering. Wolf groaned internally. His brother’s quick temper had been an issue in the past, but Wolf had thought he’d be able to control himself in a time of crisis such as this. Of all things, he ought to know better than to antagonize the sensitive and irritable Fletch. Wolf registered the problem quietly in his mind.

The priest, Cleft, was almost finished welcoming them to his house in his low, grave voice. Wolf was sure that he'd noticed the tension as well, but nothing registered on his lined face. Nothing of such a nature ever did, though the expectant look he directed toward Wolf was clear enough.

The chief settled himself on the low bench and looked around at them seriously. He was no Gondorian orator, to use fine words to stir men to great deaths. He was only their chief, who would direct them as well as he could. Without clearing his throat, and without assuming a more powerful voice, he began to speak. No such voice could have been necessary to an audience as intent as this.

“The rumors are true. I’ve seen for myself. There are about five hundred of them, and they look like the Rangers. They are not warriors…most of them are not… but they are many, and the Rangers will be there in strength to protect them.” He looked around. Nobody was surprised. “They are building a town in the watering spot. We must expel them, or starve.” General nods proved that he was not the only one to whom this had occurred. This part of the speech was not news, but a way of exchanging all the rumors for a single set of facts, and of proving that their chief was as wise as they were. The priest was silent and impassive. Wolf continued. “We will fight them as well as we can. They are tired, and busy, and they don’t know the hills. If nothing else, we can frighten them badly. Maybe they’ll want to leave for more comfortable places.” Here he found it necessary to ignore Knife’s smirk. Had the man no sense of propriety? “We will start with spies. We need to learn their habits, and I want to get the aid of other villages before I attack. Fletch, you will serve as messenger. You know where our friends live. Tell them there is a threat to us all, and remind them of their kinship with us.” He would give further instructions in private, but the prospect of allies had cheered them all slightly, as he’d hoped it would. He went on. “I want Smoke and Pelt as the first spies, but others will take their turns later, and the rest of you should be preparing.”

Wolf sat in silence when he had finished speaking, watching them exchange looks among themselves that bespoke uneasiness, if not outright panic. Nothing could cure them of that. After all, they were right. Wolf sighed, wondering how long this would last, and whether there would be anyone left to care for his nephew when he arrived.

Well, he would give them such confidence as he could. He would speak to them of their strengths. But first he moved among them, specifying what it was that each was to do, as they slowly began to disperse.

[ November 01, 2003: Message edited by: Belin ]
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