[Mithadan]

Chapter XIX

HIDE AND SEEK

The afternoon was grey and the sky had become blustery. Madrigal rode ahead, with Geniwel seated behind her, and with Cider impatient to run still farther and faster. But Maddie checked the spirited mare's pace, to give the elf girl riding with her a chance to use her sharp clear sight to spy out any further pages dropped from Elediriel's notebook. Turry and Furry also rode less swiftly than Thunder and Lightning could, hoping to see any sign or trace of Ellie or the precious baby or the wicked wizard who had stolen him away.

Hours ago, they had ridden from the hidden northern way out of the valley of Rivendell. Sentries let them pass with little challenge, since Queen Arwen held the hobbits in such high esteem. Not only that, but Madrigal was at her most charming, Geniwel was a fair young elvish girl, and the lonely sentries, charged with keeping folk out of the valley, were not prone to be overly cautions to keep folk in. "Come back ere nightfall," they said. "Or ere the weather grows worse. There has been enough grief today! We will have a merry meeting when you return!"

Only once had they been rewarded in their northern search. Geniwel saw a page of the journal on the green meadow almost due north of Rivendell and the hobbits and youngsters now felt sure that Ellie was heading north indeed. Cairmir, youngest son of the ranger Cairduin, muttered to Furry, with whom he rode on the Took's black stallion, that there were no tracks and perhaps his brother Cairdur was right and the page meant nothing. Of course, Cairdur had actually said no such thing, but little brothers are prone sometimes to think like that. Still, there was little else to do except turn back and no one wanted to do this. So they pressed on until the glow of the sun above the grey cover of clouds began to pass into the west.

Madrigal brought Cider to a halt and waited for the others to catch up.

"If we turn back now, we will still not get back to Rivendell until long after dark," she said.

"I do not think I can find the secret paths at night," said Cairmir.

"Then we should keep going north until we find Ellie," said Turry. "I didn't set out just to return having seen and done nothing."

"That's what I say," Furry agreed.

"Look a great eagle!" cried Geniwel.

The elf girl pointed into the northern sky with a slender finger. Cairmir thought he could see something but none of the hobbits could tell what Geniwel saw. But soon they could all see a black speck flying below the grey clouds. Then they could see that it flew lower and lower. Finally, it became the shape of a great bird, flying erratically, and then even the hobbits could tell just before the eagle landed clumsily in the meadow before them, that the noble bird was injured.

It was Rondramehir, who had flown, bleeding and injured, with the last of his strength, until he saw the hobbits and the children of Rivendell in the meadowlands north of the hidden valley. They rushed forward on the hobbit ponies and dismounted, hurrying to the side of the great bird.

The elf child Geniwel was already weeping at the sight, for she was tender-hearted as well as brave, as were so many of those fair folk in that day when the world was greener and life more precious. She lifted his head and stroked the feathers of his neck. "Give him some water," she said.

Madrigal held her hands cupped and Furry poured water into them. Rondramehir dipped his great beak and drank. After a time, he had strength to speak.

"You seek your friend," said the noble lord of the eagles. "You may find her north of here. Ride hard, and when the Moon is high you will see a rocky hill not too far distant. From that hill I have flown and fallen and rested and flown and fallen here. I fear I have flown my last. Upon its summit, my wing mates and I did battle with the old man and the vulture he rode. I left Elediriel there and I do not know what became of her or of the child the old man stole. The carrion eater we slew. The wizard was too great a foe. He killed my brothers and my cousins who flew with me this evil day. And now, I shall perish, too."

Rondramehir's eyes closed, and the great bird said no more. Madrigal wept aloud, and the boys tried not to weep as well, for they were angry and wanted to ride. But Geniwel said, "I will stay and comfort him as I am able, and perhaps he will not die."

"But you can't stay here alone!" said Madrigal. "I won't let you!"

"Then stay here with her and with the eagle," said Furry. "We will ride hard and find this place, leaving the marks of our passage and leading help that way."

"That's good thinking," said Turry. "No doubt many others will come this way from Rivendell. You can speed them to us! I fear we may need their help before all is done. It has already been too long since Ellie was left alone with that wicked wizard!"

"Then let us go!" said Cairmir. "And may your ponies run as fast as an eagle flies!"

The Took Twins mounted Thunder and Lightning, with the Dunedain boy. They rode north as fast as the black ponies ever had run, to find the infant and their friend, and perhaps to face the evil wizard who had nearly slain Good King Strider, who had cast all of Rivendell into slumber, and who had killed so many of the mighty Eagles of the Misty Mountains.

Their fear for themselves was exceeded only by their dread for Elediriel and the newborn Heir, alone in the wilderness, facing an enemy as terrible as any that could be found in all the wide world.

***

Evening came to Rivendell, finding not a population still in haunted slumber, but instead a cavalry and a host that would be ready to ride and to march with the next sunrise. Celeborn, Lord of Rivendell, oversaw every detail, making certain the troops were well equipped and well provisioned and knew especially to shoot first and look later, should they see the wizard again! Their best plan in haste, should the wizard be found, was to trust that in a storm of quickly released darts and arrows, surely one would find its mark. But this was a plan of last recourse, for it might result as easily in the unintended death of the Heir, rather than the doom of their wizardly foe. It was hoped that the cavalry might make such a tactic unnecessary. But an evil wizard at large was a matter of the gravest concern to Lord Celeborn, who knew too much of such matters, and well understood what destruction such a living foe could eventually bring. He armed his troops hoping they would not be needed.

Elladan and Elrohir saw to the equipping of the cavalry. With the dawn they would ride to the north and if they found the wizard, the speed of their assault might prevent the utterance of another spell of sleep. The host would follow afoot, to bring such force of arms that even a wizard might be vanquished should the cavalry fail. All was made ready in Rivendell, and messengers were sent that day far and wide, by bird and by beast, upon the roads and in the skies, calling for the help of all good peoples and warning them of the danger the wizard represented.

In the Last Homely House, the handmaidens of Arwen Undomiel tended the king and queen, guarding their rest, and bringing them health and strength. Such was the virtue of their ministrations that Aragorn opened his eyes again in the evening, stood, and took nourishment. Later that evening, the hobbits Merry and Pippin, his companions of old in the days of the War of the Ring, came to see him.

The king looked much improved to their eyes, for when they last saw him in the red light of dawn, he was pale and weak, indeed was unconscious and they had feared for him. If they expected their old friend to still be wearing the kingly vestments of the previous day's celebrations, or the comfortable robes of a patient in a house of healing, they were surprised when they saw him.

"Strider!" exclaimed old Pippin Took. The mouth of Merry Brandybuck hung agape. King Elessar Telcontar was dressed not as a king of men, nor as one lately feared near death. He looked to the eyes of the old hobbits as an ordinary ranger of Eriador, indeed, much as he had so many years ago when he set forth as one of the Nine Walkers and was unknown to the world as the Heir of Elendil. Only the grey cloak of Lorien and a green jewel bound by a silver filet to his high forehead marked him as different from any other ranger of the field. He had shaved his kingly beard and only the steel grey of his hair beneath a clean bandage was now changed from the Aragorn they knew in the days of their youth. The old ranger's eyes were stern, though his countenance softened and a token of a smile briefly flickered on his lips.

"Hello, old friends," he said. "Do not look surprised! I sleep in the field tonight, with my cavalry. At dawn, I ride with them. My son has no need of a crowned king, waiting for word sent from his armies afar. Eldarion will be better served by the Chieftain of the Dunedain and the Flame of the West." With that, he unsheathed the great sword Anduril, which caught the light of the lamps of his chambers and reflected it with a fiery anger of its own. Long was it since the noble blade had been drawn in wrath, and it would not be sheathed again until the enemy was met.

***

Now, if you, like the wicked wizard, would like to know what had become of Prince Eldarion in all this time, we must take our tale back before noon of that day, to the hour when Rondramehir had dropped Elediriel to the ground some distance behind the wizard and the hideous vulture. The little hobbit girl was as scared as she had ever been in her life but when she saw the valiant eagles fighting and dying as they tried to battle the wizard, she knew that she would have only this one chance to act.

As carefully and as quietly as only a frightened hobbit could move, she crept up behind the cunning old man, and wizard though he was, all of his attention was on the fierce eagles stooping from the sky with their razor sharp talons and lightning speed. So he never saw that she had taken the little bundle of cloths wrapped around the slumbering baby until it was too late! No doubt you figured this out for yourselves already, and perhaps you think it was the obvious thing to do, but it was a dreadfully difficult decision for Elediriel all the same and the bravest thing she ever did in her very long life. I should like to see you do so well in such a horrible fix with no time to lose!

And she lost no time at all! As soon as she was out of sight of the terrible battle, though she could still hear the explosions of the wizard's magic, the screams of the dying eagles, and the gloating cackle of the wicked old man, she ran as fast as she could and did not stop for a very long time. Down the hill she ran and into the woods where they looked the thickest, holding the precious baby tightly and not daring to look over her shoulder to see if the terrible old man followed. Now you or I might have had a harder time of it, and I doubt such large folk as ourselves could have gone nearly as speedily or anything like as quietly as Elediriel Cotton, running for her life and for the baby's life through the wooded glen on the slopes of the Misty Mountains. A barefooted hobbit makes very little noise even when taking little care, but Ellie was afraid of every twig that might snap and every dry leaf that might rustle. Also, hobbits are much smaller and not so heavy, so they would have to try very hard indeed to make as much noise as you or I. Ellie was trying very hard not to make any noise, even though she was now quite far away from the dreadful wizard. But she knew she couldn't run forever and she had to find a place to hide!

Coming upon a stream, she thought of something Turry had once said, and remembered the sharp noses of wolves and worse things. She took time to walk some little way (with freezing feet!) up the pebbly streambed and tried not to leave any mark on the rocky place where she climbed back out. She went along and went along until she was dreadfully tired and knew it was time to hide. She sat upon a log to catch her breath (how long had she been running?) and saw that it was hollow. She set the baby down and looked inside, just to make sure there was nothing already hiding within. Despite herself, she squealed when a jackrabbit tore out of the log more frightened than herself. That would be good enough.

She found a tree branch with many twigs and dry leaves upon it, backed herself into the log, pulled the still slumbering baby in after her, and pulled the leafy branch in after them both. Soon, despite her fears, the hobbit lass was sleeping as soundly as the infant, though no spell had been cast upon her. If even a wizard had stomped past, searching hard with keen eyes and wrathful intensity, he would never have noticed, could not have seen, would not have heard, the soft breathing of the hobbit and the baby hidden at quite a little distance from the stony hill, through the woods, up the creek, in the mountain glen, concealed deep in a hollow log behind a branch covered with twigs and leaves.

***

Who can say if the wizard passed them by, or even if he drew near? Elediriel had hidden herself and the child quite well and did not move again until it was quite dark outside. She woke to the feel of the infant stirring and she feared that soon it might awaken and cry out. At first, she did not move, fearing to wake the child, but there was no room in the log to move about, and if the child did cry out, who knows what such cries might bring upon them in the wilderness?

Ellie slowly pushed first the limb, and then the bundle holding the infant, and then the limb again, and continued in this fashion until she had inched out of the log. The wind was blowing chill, but it had moved the clouds away. The moon had not yet begun his climb above the Misty Mountains, she thought. Emerging from the darkness of the log, her eyes could see well enough by the starlight. She laid the precious bundle down again on the leeward side of the log and thought the wizard's spell an unintended blessing. The little hobbit took stock of what she had. The journal had few pages left. How many were scattered to the winds? Did any fall where they might be found? Did Rondramehir defeat the wizard? Did the eagle go to get help? How far was she from anyone?

She had no answers to any of these questions, which was disturbing, but she did not want to think too much about that. What would she do if the baby woke? She was no wet nurse! Why did she bring nothing to feed a baby? A newborn could not eat Dwarven mirrors, combs and brushes! A newborn could not even chew an apple or a piece of bread! Why didn't she think to find some milk? Not that there had been time...

Just then, the infant did awake and was most definitely hungry and quite loudly enough, wanted someone to know it!

Elediriel almost began to cry. But she was a very sensible hobbit lass and knew that crying just then would not help anything at all. She hoped the wind would carry the baby's cries away from any that should not hear! If she could not feed him, at least she could put some water in the flask and make certain the child did not thirst. Surely water would not hurt!

Ellie pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes, grabbed the flask and pulled out its stopper. She almost poured it to the ground at that moment, but then stopped. No one would begrudge her a sip or two to calm her nerves! She put the flask to her lips and a good draught of the smooth sweet liquor immediately brought warmth to her limbs and gave her a great sense of well being and calm.

"Why this is miruvor!" she said aloud, feeling quite refreshed and fearless, despite her predicament. She looked at the baby, crying softly by the log...

She just couldn't!

Could she?

She did. She dribbled the tiniest bit from the flask onto her littlest finger, which she placed in the baby's mouth. He sucked at it and immediately stopped crying. Ellie brightened and gave him a few drops more, and then a few drops more. Eldarion quickly fell asleep in her arms. Overjoyed, she replaced the stopper, retied her bag and secured it to her waist, took up the baby again, put the mountains on her left side, and made the best time she could in what she hoped was a generally southern direction.

The time passed and the moon made his way above the peaks of the Misty Mountains. The hobbit lass stopped finally to rest somewhat and to clean the infant and give him some water from a stream. She had remembered something her old mother had told her once about chewing food for a baby, but she was sure that this was something done for older babies. Still, she tried this with a little of the elven bread from the Last Homely House. Even a day old, it seemed to melt in the mouth like the finest confections from the bakery at the Great Smials. Eldarion did not complain and took some from her finger. A few drops of miruvor and he slept again. Ellie had no idea how long she had been walking or of how far she had come.

"Not long enough or far enough, I'm sure, but we'll keep going, won't we little Prince?" Ellie softly told the baby in her arms. She was weary but allowed herself a swallow of the cordial and started walking again, for she feared that some danger was on her heels.

She was right. As she walked, she heard on the wind what she gradually became certain was not her imagination, but the very thing she feared most. As she walked alone on the slopes of the Misty Mountains by the light of the Moon she heard the distant howl of wolves!

They sounded far away to the north, but not nearly far enough to satisfy Elediriel. She picked up her pace and just hoped they were not tracking her. As the moon rode high upon his path, Elediriel walked wearily, beginning to stumble, but afraid to stop even to hide. Eldarion sometimes woke and made baby sounds, but did not often cry, and this Ellie counted as a blessing. She worried even about the few drops of miruvor she had given the babe, dreading having to tell Queen Arwen! Then she almost laughed and said softly to the baby, "I hope I do have to tell your mother what a terrible nurse I have been! And the sooner the better!"

She heard again the howling of wolves, this time nearer. Ellie was panicked now and weariness left her feet. She ran again, hoping against her fears that it was just a coincidence, that the wolves were not following her, that it was just the sort of chance sounds that anyone might hear in the wilderness. She ran on and on until weariness overtook her again, and Eldarion awoke.

Ellie sat upon the root of a great tree with her back against the trunk, unable to move another step. The baby was hungry, so she dribbled a few more drops of the cordial and he grew quiet again. She took another swallow herself, and felt that after a brief rest, she might continue again. To pass the time while she rested, and to encourage the baby to fall asleep again, she sang a simple lullaby to the little prince.

Sleep sweet, sweet prince.
Breathe your little sighs.
Sleep sweet, sweet prince.
Close your little eyes.

One day you'll be handsome
And strong and so tall.
One day you will marry
The fairest of all.

Sleep sweet, sweet prince.
Breathe your little sighs.
Sleep sweet, sweet prince.
Close your little eyes.

One day you will find her
Looking up at you.
One day you will kiss her
And know her love is true.

Sleep sweet, sweet prince.
Breathe your little sighs.
Sleep sweet, sweet prince.
Close your little eyes.

One day she will give you
A son to call your own.
One day she will hold him
And sing this little song.

Sleep sweet, sweet prince.
Breathe your little sighs.
Sleep sweet, sweet prince.
Close your little eyes.

No sooner had she finished singing the lullaby, not only was Eldarion asleep, but Ellie herself fell finally to her own weariness and dozed against the tree with the baby in her arms. Some time passed, but she did not awaken until, very close indeed now, she heard again the cry of the wolves. Waking with a guilty start she looked up. The moon had climbed to his highest point and shown brightly on the landscape. She dared not move a muscle or make a sound, for she saw now the dark shapes of the wolves drawing near, their eyes glowing in the dark!




Chapter XX

LOST AND FOUND

While Elediriel and Eldarion lay hidden fast asleep in a hollow log, to the south, Turgon Took rode Lightning somewhat ahead of his brother Fingon, who rode with young Cairmir on the back of Thunder. Due north they rode, slackening their pace little across the rolling meadows as the lands rose, drawing ever nearer the Misty Mountains. The sun had made her way so far west that now she shone beneath the clouds of grey that had kept her full brilliance from their pursuit. It was the first time they saw her direct light since she dawned that fateful day.

The hard-riding hobbits and the son of rangers saw far ahead of them, in the last red gleam of the setting sun, the bare hilltop the great eagle Rondramehir told them to find. They rode on, hoping to find Elediriel and not daring to guess at what they might actually discover. A chill wind began to blow and the clouds gradually thinned and left the sky. Turry was glad of the extra light, but did not trust the North wind.

They rode on.

***

At about that same time, Cairdur, the elder brother of Cairmir, riding hard on the trail of the hobbit ponies, came upon Madrigal Brandybuck and the elf girl Geniwel. They had cleaned the wounds of Rondramehir and stanched his bleeding. Geniwel was still singing soft songs of healing to the gravely wounded bird, while Maddie kept a sharp eye on the meadowland around them. She had long watched until the Took Twins and the ranger boy had ridden from sight to the north, and now she was facing south when the others came at last.

Cairdur halted his steed and dismounted. Sharp words were on his tongue, but he held them, seeing both the dauntless expression of the hobbit lass, and the mighty eagle whose great head was so tenderly stroked in the lap of the elf girl. His ranger's eyes saw well enough the track of two fast ponies to the north and he guessed at much of the story before Maddie said a word.

"Wait," said the young ranger. "The others are right behind me and your tale need only be told once." Indeed, his father Cairdur and comrade Aradhel were upon them, followed closely by a steed without a saddle that bore the wood-elf Legolas and Gimli the dwarf. Other rangers and elves followed as well and soon all were stopped, some not even dismounting. They listened intently as Madrigal told them the story of the battle of the Eagles and the Wizard.

Two of the elves stayed behind, to take the latest word, and Geniwel, and the Lord of the Eagles back to Rivendell with them. The rest rode north, as fast as their steeds could gallop. No one bothered to tell Madrigal not to follow (indeed, all but Legolas and Gimli pretended not to notice that she had), and proud Cider made no trouble about keeping pace with the fleet-hoofed horses of the Dunedain. The north wind blew chill, but the last rays of the sun illumined the underside of the grey clouds with touches of red and golden fire.

They rode on.

***

Elediriel's eyes were wide with terror as she watched the wolves draw nearer. She clutched Eldarion close and then despite herself, screamed a high shrill scream when the wolves saw her and trotted up to the tree where she had fallen asleep. There was no way that she could have climbed it, and saved the baby, too; not that she could even move, frozen in her fear.

The wolves laughed at the hobbit lass with a horrible growling sound, but did not leap to rend their prey, as Ellie thought they surely would. Instead, they surrounded her and howled to the moon, as if calling with a message for someone in their frightful voices. But it seemed that someone answered them sooner than even they expected.

As terrified as Ellie was, her fear grew even greater, when she saw an the head of an old man and the tip of his crude staff over the top of a hill, and then the entire old man himself as he climbed over the rise and walked quickly their way. The wolves seemed confused, and the largest of them trotted forth to meet the old man, but then stopped in his tracks with his ears laid back. He growled deep in his chest and his cruel, black, snarling lips were drawn back from his vicious fangs as he made ready to spring.

The old man raised his staff, pointing it at the leader of the pack, crying aloud in strange words unknown to Ellie's ears. The great wolf's tail was suddenly tucked between his hind legs and he ran yowling and crying down the slope as if he were but a cub suddenly frightened out of his wits!

As the noise of his departure faded into the distance, his pack mates began growling and howling in anger and confusion, pacing to and fro. Some of the larger ones made ready to spring by twos and by threes upon the old man, but he raised his staff again, pointing it swiftly at each one of them, uttering the strange words each time, and each of them, and soon all the rest of the pack of wolves as well, were yipping in fear and running with tucked tails as fast as their leader before them!

Now the wizard came near the little hobbit lass and the infant she held, and in her fear she shrank against the trunk of the tree behind her. She saw that he had changed the fine robes that were given him, and wore rags and tatters. His hair and beard were no longer combed and neatly arranged, but he looked as he had when he was found at the ruins of Dol Goldur, worn and tired and not a little crazed.

But there was something in his eyes that seemed different, kinder and simpler, not clever and calculating. With a trembling old hand, he touched Ellie's blonde head and then pulled away a corner of blanket to look upon Eldarion. A tear escaped his eye and traced a crooked line down his wrinkled cheek into his matted beard. He stepped back a pace and looked at them long, then looked a while with a grimace to the north, then looked long with a little confusion into the south, and longer still to the west. He walked suddenly with a purpose out from under the tree, leaned slowly down and grasped a fist-sized rock. He uttered soft strange words over it, then cast it underhand high aloft and cried aloud when it rose to the height of its flight.

It burst with a musical sound, like the ringing of a bell, and with a dazzling light in the darkness. The light hung there in the night air, like the wisps of a puff-flower, falling ever so slowly and fading ever so softly until it was gone. When Ellie looked back down from the wonderful sight, the old man was also gone.

***

In a surprisingly short time, Ellie heard the welcome sound of galloping horses and burst into tears when she saw Turry riding up the slope, with Furry and Cairmir not far behind. Of course they had ridden to the sight of the magical flare, certain that it just had to have something to do with all the terrible events of the last two days. Turry quickly dismounted and had only words of praise and wonder for the hobbit lass.

"You have found the Prince!" he exclaimed, but he was happier still to see Ellie. The feelings in his heart surprised him and he spoke with a thick voice, unable to say everything all at once. "This is more wonderful than I could have hoped! You must tell us all about it!"

"There is no time," said Furry, still mounted with Cairmir on Thunder. "The light that brought us here may bring something else! We should go!"

"He's right!" said Turry, and took the child while Elediriel climbed up upon the back of Lightning, who stood still for her to do so. Turry looked with wonder upon the infant for a moment, before passing him back to Ellie, and then mounting his steed behind her. She felt happy and safe finally, with the strong arms of the young Took around her, grasping the reins of his fine black pony. They turned Lightning's and Thunder's tails, heading back down the slopes and doubling back upon their tracks as quickly as they had come.

***

The moon was heading to the western horizon when the black ponies at last rejoined Cider and the horses of the Dunedain in the meadowlands of ancient Rhudaur, under the watchful gaze of the Misty Mountains. Happy was that meeting, indeed, but brief. The dour rangers did not trust that they would all be safe from the wicked wizard and insisted that they head East.

"East!" cried Furry. "But that's back toward the mountains! How safe is that?"

"There is a new outpost, built on older ruins when our people long ago lived in these lands and herded flocks in these green meadows. We hope to encourage such things again," answered Aradhel. "We will be safer behind those walls, and that is where the forces of Rivendell will first head as they follow us. I would prefer to wait there and rest our steeds, for we have all used them hard."

"There are other rangers there as well, and perhaps there will be greater safety with greater numbers," said Cairdur.

"There were great numbers in Rivendell," said Cairduin grimly.

"But we were not ready then," said Legolas.

"Aye!" said Gimli, patting the blade of his axe. "And I will feel still more ready with walls of stone between me and whatever a wizard may think to do!"

They headed east, back toward the Misty Mountains, to the outpost of the Rangers and wearily arrived with the rising of the Sun. The horses and ponies were quite glad of the halt, and an opportunity to rest, as were the hobbits and old Gimli, too (who was old enough not to care if folk saw him tired!). The elves among them, and the tall rangers, did not seem quite as weary, but took advantage of the safety of the small fort to stretch out and rest given the opportunity, as soldiers will who know that perhaps too soon they would be glad they had. So it turned out on this occasion.

The sun had only risen through half her morning flight when the rangers on guard sounded their alarm. Not even Cairdur suspected that the wizard would come in the daylight, but the wizard was wise enough to seize the best chance he could find or make. The guards on watch did not see the danger at first, but heard it.

It was good that they were alert, for otherwise they might have thought nothing of the first sounds from the mountain slopes rising to the east. It was the sound of rocks moving. First just small scatterings. Then small rocks hitting larger ones. Loose pebbles clattering. Then a crash followed by a scuffing sound, cracking branches, and curses spoken in a dull uncouth tongue in deep coarse voices. Another harsh voice rose above the others, like smashing stone, shushing the other voices around it. By this time Legolas and some other of the elves joined the guards upon the wall to see what made such noises. Turry and Furry woke in the alerted fort.

"What do you suppose it is?" asked Furry. "Trolls?"

"Not in the daylight," answered Turry.

"Worse, I fear!" said Gimli, blinking bleary eyes.

"Stone giants from the mountains!" Legolas called down. "An entire clan has been brought down upon us!"

***

They were mightily big, gigantic in fact, and looked as if they were made from the stuff of the mountains themselves. Turry and Furry, who had strung their slender bows and climbed up to the top of the wall for a good look, could hardly believe their own eyes when they got that look. Bigger even than Bilbo's trolls, bigger by far, a dozen of the giants were ambling clumsily around the fort. Their rough grey skin looked like pitted granite. Their hair was long and matted, hanging over their thick brows and into their craggy faces. They were clad only in ragged knots of skins and furs hanging from their thick waists. Their arms were long and thick, and their great huge hands hung down below their stumpy knees. Some of them even used their knuckles to help them walk, and none of them were agile. Even as stooped over and as slouching as they were, they looked almost tall enough to leap up and grab the tops of the walls, but fortunately, stone giants can't jump. They are as strong as they look however, and that is mighty strong indeed!

Each of them grabbed a good-sized tree in stony hands and pulled hard, uprooting them like powerful men pulling up little saplings. Then, the giants turned back to the gates of the small fortress, and taking up the trees like great clubs began swinging with all their might to break down the strong gates. It was also fortunate that giants are not only larger than trolls, they are also nowhere near as smart, and as you know, trolls themselves are not all that clever.

They got in each other's way, and their strokes were poorly aimed, and they knocked each other about quite a bit. They began roaring and fighting one another, growing more angry all the while, punching and scuffling and tumbling down the slope away from the fort and splintering the trees until they were quite useless. The gate of the fort itself was relatively unscathed.

Even so, those manning the fort had no intention of letting the giants get close enough again to have another try. When the angry giants had finally tired themselves quite sometime later, and remembered why they had come down from the mountain and what they were supposed to be doing there in the first place, the archers were ready for them.

As soon as the first ones had clambered back within bowshot, a hail of arrows was loosed and flew down to meet them. How the lumbering giants howled and screamed! Many of the folk in the fort had to hold their ears at the noise of it. Back in the keep, little Eldarion was awakened and cried aloud, as angry that his morning nap was disturbed as the giants were at the stinging arrows. Madrigal had brought some things with her, in the hopes that the baby would be found. Elediriel was very glad of this (she had not yet told Maddie about her use of the miruvor when she fled the wizard through the woods!) and the two hobbit lasses tried to comfort the angry infant prince as best they could.

There was no tender comfort for the enraged giants! The arrows did not cause the thick-skinned brutes any mortal hurt, but they stung something fiercely and made the giants pause. Then a couple of them stepped up again and each got half a dozen arrows for his trouble. They howled and roared again, pulling at the shafts and crying out as they brushed the painful darts away. Another one advanced into range, and was soon bristling with arrows before he turned back, raging with anger and bleeding from a dozen painful wounds.

And so it was a standoff. After that, even the giants learned not to get any closer than the archers could shoot. They milled around down the hill from the fortress, shouting angrily at the rangers and soldiers within, but unwilling to get close enough to do them harm. Things might have gone on like that until the giants lost interest and went away, but that was not to be.

Howling wolves were heard, though the sun was bright and the day was growing warm. At their head was a great large wolf and upon his back was an old man with a flowing beard. He glared darkly at the fort and then went right up to the giants. From afar, the archers on the wall saw him gesticulating wildly and could hear him screaming and cursing the sullen giants. He stooped to the ground and picked up a handful of rocks and pebbles and cast them toward the fort.

One of the giants did the same, hurling a much larger handful of rather larger pebbles and stones. They clattered against the walls of the fort. The cackling laugh of the old man carried clear to the fortress. He bade each of the giants pick up a handful of rubble and hold their fists out in front of them. He passed back and forth before their ragged ranks, and what he said could not be heard. But then he moved out of their way and cried aloud.

More or less together and more or less at the small fort, the giants hurled their handfuls of rocks and stones. As the small projectiles fell toward the ground again, the wizard cried aloud a single piercing word in a grim language and the rocks and stones, whereever they were, exploded into sharp shards and flinders. Many fell far short, and harmlessly hit the ground before the fort or its stone walls. Some fell to either side, again without effect. Some few even fell beyond the fort. But quite a few of the exploding shards of shattering stone filled the air inside the walls of the small fortress.

One elf archer, who had for centuries walked under sun and moon delighting in the beauties of a younger world, was mortally wounded, catching a shattering blast full in his chest. He fell where he stood and did not live long enough to say another word. Several rangers and other elves were sorely wounded and more than one died later that day of the injuries suffered in that hour. Upon the walls, the soldiers and archers suffered hurts, some more and some less, but none were unscathed by the cruel assault.

Even so, the wizard was unimpressed. Only a couple of handfuls of stones actually fell within the walls of the fort, doing any damage at all. Evidently he thought it a waste of good magic, considering how many fistfuls landed harmlessly outside the fortification. He cursed the giants again, who cringed despite their great size. The wolves howled with their horrible laughter (being none too fond of giants themselves).

The old man singled out the largest of the giants and made him pick up a single stone, the size of a man's head. He uttered words and waved his hands and cried for the giant to heave the stone at the fort. It sailed high into the air and came falling straight at the center of the fortress wall.

"Look away!" cried Gimli. "Cover yourselves!"

The stone fell from the sky as the wizard cried aloud the final word of his terrible spell. It struck with full explosive force against the sturdy gates of the fort and blew them asunder. The smoke cleared away and the blasted gates hung in twisted iron and shattered timbers, useless and ruined.

The giants roared and the wolves howled! No archers were seen over the tops of the walls, and the giants came forward, slowly at first, and then with greater speed when no stinging arrows stopped their progress. A giant pulled another tree up as he passed and ran to be among the first to the tiny fortress. The first two giants reached the ruined gates and pulled them down. Then they got in one another's way, each seeking to be the first inside.

Suddenly, with a mighty cry, Gimli the Renowned was between their legs and hewing at their feet. The two giants that were nearest the dwarf roared with rage. The third giant swung his tree at the dwarf and knocked one of the other giants down. Gimli cried aloud again in the dwarven tongue and his great axe severed the foot of the other giant. He crashed screaming to the ground, narrowly missing the dwarf, whose axe swung again and was the last thing the giant's eyes saw before it clove his great misshapen head right between them. The other giant had gotten clumsily to his feet and the third was about to smash the dwarf to jelly from behind when the mighty bow of Lorien sang a lethal note. An elven arrow suddenly grew out of his eye. He dropped the tree on his own head and fell to the stony ground and never moved again. The other giant grew an arrow from each eye and the Took Twins cried together, "For the Shire!"

Three giants lay dead at the gates of the fort and the rest milled around angrily, just out of bowshot at the foot of the hill. The dwarf laughed at the giants and they roared back and started throwing stones and rocks to little effect. The dwarf and elf and hobbits praised one another's prowess until Cairduin cried grimly for them all to look again.

The wizard was screaming for the giants to stop what they were doing and reluctantly, the remaining nine began to pay him attention again. The wicked old man had evidently decided upon a strategy of letting the giants hurl one stone at a time, and Cairduin feared that they could not last long before that sort of assault. The dour ranger was right.

Now, one stone after another was hurled into the sky and came crashing down explosively among them, and all they could do was try to find some cover that the razor sharp shards could not penetrate. One of the rangers caught a large shard in his chest and fell back dying. A large piece of the battlement where the fallen ranger had stood was broken and crumbled.

In the walls of the inner keep, Elediriel and Madrigal were wide-eyed with worry and fear. Even Cairmir the son of rangers looked scared. And now so did the rangers themselves. Another stone fell right in the midst of the yard of the small fortress. Some of the horses and more of the rangers were killed or mortally wounded with that blast. The hobbit lasses cried aloud in terror and Ellie clutched the little baby close to her trembling body.

Soon, there would be no one left to draw bowstring or wield sword or axe. Soon the giants would enter the fort and none would be left to oppose them. Soon the wizard himself would come and neither Maddie nor Ellie would be able to stop him from again taking the precious baby and continuing with whatever wicked scheme they had briefly stopped. Tears came to Ellie's eyes, as with another ear splitting explosion, the walls around them were shaken and the door was blasted open.

And then, at first Elediriel could not believe her ringing ears, but it was not her imagination. It was the ringing horn cry she heard at dawn the previous day above the vale of Rivendell. It was the horn cry of Buckland, and Madrigal knew it well, for she had heard her grandfather blow it before. The low thunder of thousands of hooves left no doubt.

"The cavalry!" cried Maddie, with suddenly rising hope. "The cavalry has come!"