[Pitchwife]

When Pithwivion stepped behind the curtain of the waterfall and into the cavern of the Rangers' refuge, one of the last couple of Rangers to return to Henneth Annûn, Faramir was already waiting for him, his face grey with grief.

"Were you followed?" he inquired.

"Likely we were at first," Pithwivion replied, "but we took great pains to efface our trail, and I defy any Orc to follow a Ranger of Ithilien where he does not wish to be followed. Sneaky they may be, but their woodcraft is no match to ours. I do not think there is any danger of them finding this place."

"They had no difficulty finding us at the road," Faramir objected. Pithwivion shook his head.

"No, that they had not; but if it please my lord, I would fain speak my mind on that with no ears listening but yours and mine. For now, how many have we lost?"

"A score and a dozen; more than a third of our company, unless you think that any of us are still out there."

Pithwivion shrugged. "There may be, but if so, I doubt that any will win back to this place now." A third of their company. That was a devastating blow. "Are any of our scouts among the missing?"

"All but one." Faramir looked his lieutenant in the eye. "Why do you ask?"

"If we may talk undisturbed, my lord?"

Faramir nodded and directed him to a recess of the great cavern which served as the captain's private chamber. When they were as alone as could be managed in the cramped refuge, the young prince turned to Pithwivion and said, "You think we were betrayed."

"Aye, my lord, that is indeed my thought. Do not blame yourself for what happened today. There is no way a random band of marauding Orcs could have sneaked up on us and caught us in our own ambush by mere chance. They knew of our plan in advance and were waiting for us, just like we were waiting for the Haradrim."

"The missing scouts?" Faramir suggested. "Do you think they were caught and gave us away under torture?"

"That may be," Pithwivion conceded, "but my heart tells me the traitors are still among us, where they may wreak more havoc."

Faramir's face was grim, but he nodded. "That is what I would think, if it were to be conceived of that any Men of Gondor should fall so low as to go over to the Enemy, except under dire duress. You and I have fought side by side with these men for many years and trusted them with our lives any number of times; I cannot think that any of them would betray their comrades, unless perhaps coerced by some evil spell."

"Now you have named it, my lord. Spells the Enemy has many, and cunning arts of deception. Who knows? Some of the men in this hall may only wear the faces of our comrades of many years, but hide another spirit behind them."

Faramir pondered this a long while. At last, he looked up at Pithwivion with a gleam of decision in his eyes. "You may be right; at least we have to consider the possibility. I shall speak of this to the men in the morning. Tonight, I shall pray the Lords of the West for guidance in this matter. What I wish you to do in the meantime is talk to our companions and observe if any of them behave otherwise than they were wont to. You have known the men long and are well liked by them; they will not fear to speak their minds to you unless they have some sinister reason not to."

"Gladly, my lord," Pithwivion replied. Faramir gave him a curt nod.

"And triple the watches. If this refuge is lost to the Enemy, our war against him in this part of the land is over. Dismissed."

* * *

Mablung and Damrod had witnessed their captain's private conversation with Pithwivion from a distance, and although they had not been able to catch any of the words spoken, they had known both Faramir and his lieutenant long enough to be able to read some of the gist from their miens. At the time they had only exchanged a telling glance, but later that night, when the other Rangers had fallen asleep, Damrod nudged his brother in arms, whose cot was next to his, and whispered: "So what do you think of this?"

"The same as you," Mablung whispered back. "That the Orcs did not happen on us by chance, but there is treachery afoot; at least the captain and old Pitch both think so."

"That is indeed what I think. And have you noticed the way Pitch has been talking to all the men? Looking for clues, I dare say. We shall hear about this on the morrow, mark my word."

"And what would you say that we should do about it?"

"What we have always done, these long years. We two at least know we can trust each other. Watch thou my back, I shall watch thine. Let us speek our minds freely to each other, but be on our guard with the others until we know better who is true and who is false."

Mablung gave no answer, and none was needed. These two had fought back to back long enough to understand each other without many words.
_______________________

IT IS NOW NIGHT 1. Black Númenóreans, start conspiring. Mablung and Damrod, you may talk in private. Faramir, send me your choice of dream. Everybody else, keep silent.

DEAD
Nobody yet.

ALIVE
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