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Old 11-24-2003, 08:03 AM   #162
Ealasaide
Shadow of Tyrn Gorthad
 
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Sting

Kaldir

Lowering himself down on one knee, Rauthain touched Kaldir’s boot bringing his fingertips to his lips in a sign of respect and submission, his gaze slipping only once in the direction of Kaldir’s gleaming sword close by his shoulder. "I too am seeking Naiore," he said softly, "in the memory of the one I failed."

Looking down at the old Ranger's bent head, Kaldir felt a surge of emotion, part anger and part pain, rise up inside of him. A raw confusion of memories stirred up by the man's face battled to gain a foothold in the dark underside of Kaldir's mind, but he pushed them all down and away from him. All but one. Raven Falls. This was the man who could have tipped the battle in his favor. This was the man who might have prevented all the torture, the years of mind-bending pain. This was the man who had turned his back on a comrade in need. Kaldir had the fleeting temptation to lop the fool's head off where he knelt. Instead, he slapped the old ranger's shoulder harshly with the flat of his sword.

"Get up," he snarled. "You'll find no forgiveness here."

Rauthain fell slightly off balance with the force of the blow, but regained himself quickly and rose to his feet, his open hands raised in front of him. "I cannot presume to make amends --" he began again, but left the sentence unfinished as Kaldir raised the point of his sword level with Rauthain's throat.

"No. You can’t." Kaldir’s pale eyes glittered dangerously as he studied the lines of the other man’s face, looking for signs of the weakness that had made this man retreat when valor had been so critical. He could feel the long-mutilated muscles in the scarred side of his own face twitch with restrained fury. "You can’t begin to make amends. You mention seeking Naiore in the memory of one you failed. Well, unless you have failed others besides me, I release you from that task. I don’t need your acts of contrition. May you wear your guilt like a shroud."

Kaldir paused for only a second, then his blade flashed out, flaying open the side of the older man’s face. "Wear that in my memory," he said coldly, watching as the dark red blood spilled from the fresh wound down the side of Rauthain’s face and on to the shoulder of his cloak. Kaldir turned the scarred side of his own face toward him. "As I wear this in yours."

Lowering his sword, Kaldir turned to go. Over by the horses, he could see Benia Nightshade and Mrs. Banks where he had left them, watching the exchange with wide, nervous eyes. Completely motionless, the two of them looked like a pair of statues.

"Kaldir!" Rauthain called behind him.

Kaldir swung around again, his sword at the ready, half-expecting to clash swords with Rauthain, but found that Rauthain had made no move toward him. He had not even tried to staunch the flow of blood from the slash to his face.

"What of Naiore?" the ranger asked softly.

"Naiore and I have unfinished business," answered Kaldir. "It does not concern you or the king or anyone else."

"It is folly to take her on alone. She has others with her, helping her."

"Two men, a hobbit, and another elf, to be precise. Your point?"

The old ranger nodded in the direction of Kaldir's companions. "You are one man, traveling with two females, who, if I may say so, do not look to be warriors. You would be sorely overmatched." He lowered his voice. "I have in my company two good men: Dulrain, whom you know well, and a young ranger by the name of Maethor. We, too, seek Naiore. If we were to ride together -- "

Kaldir shook his head. "No." He sheathed his sword with a decisive motion. "You go your way and I shall go mine. Whoever bags the viper first --" He stopped abruptly, his attention captured by a black plume of smoke rising over the trees to the northwest. "Be blessed," he finished distantly.

The smoke lay in the direction that Naiore’s tracks had been leading them. What was she burning? The bodies of her companions? He let a grim smile play on the corner of his lips. Whatever it was, it meant that she was moving. They had tarried too long. If they hoped to gain any ground on her, they would have to depart quickly and at once. Turning, Kaldir gave Rauthain a terse nod in good-bye.

"Good hunting," he added on an impulse. Then, moving with new resolve, he went quickly in the direction of his companions and the horses. When he glanced back, he could see Rauthain still standing there, watching thoughtfully.

"Let’s move!" he growled sharply at Gilly and Benia, putting Rauthain out of his mind. "If there’s anything you haven’t packed from the night leave it." He swung himself into his saddle. "We’ll have to make do without it." He watched as the two women scurried to mount their horses, then, digging his heels into the flanks of the gray stallion, took off from the campsite at a gallop, his companions close behind.

He followed the smoke plume, not minding the tracks on the ground. He already knew where they would lead. In just over an hour of hard riding, the three arrived at the source of the smoke plume. Kaldir dismounted and examined the fire pit. Charred scraps of vellum still smoked in the ash, their surfaces covered in elegant Quenyan script. The tracks beside the smoldering circle, he noticed, were made by the delicate boots of an elven female. He had guessed correctly. Studying the other prints filling the site, he determined that his earlier accounting of Naiore’s companions was still correct. He was also pleased to note that they still traveled on foot. He could still overtake them before they reached the Shire. If he guessed correctly, they were only an hour or two behind Naiore.

But Naiore and her companions were no longer moving west. Kaldir studied the tracks leaving the campsite, then cast a thoughtful glance at the remains of the bonfire. They were now moving eastward. His first thought was that something in those writings must have changed Naiore’s mind. What it was, he had no clue, but if she was going east, then he would go east as well. Calling to Gilly and Benia to follow, he remounted his horse and embarked eastward into the rising sun, the tracks of five individuals mapping his course out before him.

As they traveled, Kaldir kept his horse to a walk, dismounting frequently to check the tracks, to make sure that none of Naiore’s companions had left the course or doubled back. Nonetheless, they made good time. Riding across country, they skirted the Midgewater marshes to the north, then passed between the Weather Hills on the north and Amon Sul on the south. By the afternoon of the fifth day, still following Naiore’s lead, they crossed the Great East Road and entered the Lone-lands. By then, he knew, they were on a direct path toward Imladris.
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