Return to the North [ Lord of the Rings x Silmarillion ]

Fleas

In the morning and after a quick, small breakfast, the company set off. Looking at the map again as they rode, Eldarion sighed and turned to his two companions, Elboron and Aderthon.

"I fear we haven't come quite as far as I'd expected. See that mountain peak over there?" He pointed to a double peaked mountain to the east. "We should've been far past that yesterday if we wanted to reach Lorien by sundown."

Aderthon nodded. "Indeed. Well, we can manage another night out in the open, I'm sure."

"Seems we don't have a choice," Eldarion agreed.

The horses marched on, their hoofbeats slow and steady as they moved. They had at least another ten days of food, plenty to reach Moria with. There they would restock and begin on foot. An arduous task perhaps, but a necessary one as had been discussed the previous day.

The scenery was green and brown, with short, stubby grass as far as the eye could see. The going wasn't particularly easy but it was manageable. Again, they rode in three groups.

"Have you practiced with a bow at all, Elfwine?" Fëalas asked the teenager as they rode in the far back together with Círeth.

Elfwine shrugged. "A little. Occasionally my trainers have me shoot, but not often."

Círeth made a face. "It's a useful skill! Rohan would do well to train their prince in ranged weaponry."

"I suppose," he nodded. "Mostly we focus on sword and double axe techniques. My sister has always preferred the axes, but I like the sword myself."

"You bear Guthwinë, do you not?" asked Fëalas. "The sword your father used."

Immediately Elfwine put his hand to the hilt of the legendary sword. He felt the leather wrapped handle and the rounded triangle at the end. He felt the deep scratches in the leather and wondered what made them.

"Indeed." He smiled almost to himself. "My father gave it to me last year on my fifteenth birthday."

"A kingly gift," Círeth praised. "Fit for a prince of Rohan."

"Has your mother or father passed on their sword yet?" Elfwine asked the twins.

Fëalas smiled and shook her head. "Our father has promised his swords to us, one for each, whenever we ask for them, but we have not yet. As for my Mother, I doubt Galmegil will leave her hands until she leaves Middle Earth."

Círeth chuckled. "I don't doubt you are right. Mother is very attached to Galmegil."

The twins laughed together and Elfwine wondered why it was so funny.

No doubt it's related to their family, Elfwine decided.

They passed by a large set of rock formations on their left. Dark crevices and cracks between rocks created an ominous feeling among the company.

Meanwhile, up at the front, Aderthon narrowed his eyes and slowed his stallion.

"Did you hear that?" he murmured. "That sound?"

Eldarion and Elboron reared in their steeds and turned back. They looked at Aderthon in confusion but strained their ears. By now, everyone had halted.

"I swear, I heard...growling," Aderthon insisted.

Eldarion nodded. "I believe you."

All eyes turned to the shadows of the rocks. Was something hiding there?

As if in answer, a wolf, mangy and flea-bitten, leapt from the crevices. Three more followed, howling behind their leader. They went straight for the company, more and more wolves spilling from the rocks. They were foaming at the mouth and some tottered back and forth as if dizzy.

"Rabid wolves," Círeth muttered in disgust as she released an arrow which struck a wolf straight in the head, killing it.

Edeva drew her two one-handed axes and yelled in anger as she swung them at the jumping and growling wolves.

"Do not let them bite you or the horses!" Aderthon shouted. "They are rabid!"

He swung his sword down and stabbed a wolf dead. Looking around, he saw that everyone was doing fairly well. No one had been bitten, yet, and the wolves' numbers were down to seven.

Make that six, he smiled to himself as he watched Elfwine kill a small one.

Within a few minutes, all the wolves had perished. The threat was gone, and everyone was safe.

"Where's Fëalas?" Aderthon shouted suddenly as he realized his sister was missing.

"Here!" Called Círeth from somewhere nearby.

The company gasped as they realized Fëalas' horse was dead on the ground, its throat ripped out. Behind it on the ground was Fëalas, a bite on her leg. She had been knocked unconscious when her horse fell, and Círeth had protected her as best she could.

Aderthon and Eldarion rushed to the sisters. Release a few elvish curses, Aderthon checked to make sure there were no other injuries than her bleeding leg.

"Bring me my pack," Eldarion ordered.

Elfwine ran it over to him. "Will she be okay?"

Aderthon, Círeth, and Eldarion exchanged glances. Rabies was a deadly disease once it set in.

Eldarion bit his lip. "I will do my best. I know of someone who can help us, or at least I've heard stories of him, if we can get east of the mountains in time."

Slowly Fëalas began to open her eyes as Eldarion finished up treating her wound. He had washed it thoroughly, used some herbs to encourage healing, and stitched it up before wrapping it.

"Fëalas, you and Círeth can ride together," Eldarion nodded as he helped her stand.

She nodded. She knew the gravity of the situation, of what had happened to her. If rabies began to set in, she had little hope of living. Only the elves, and the very powerful ones at that, knew cures for rabies once it had set in. She guessed she had two or three months before the symptoms would start showing themselves.

"I only know of one elf who can help us," Eldarion sighed to his two best friends as they all set off again. "The last elf of Imladris."

"Lord Glorfindel?" Aderthon looked in surprise at his friend and prince. "You think he's really still there?"

"He corresponds with my father," explained the prince. "I have caught glimpses of their letters."

"Any indication of when he plans to leave?" Elboron asked.

Eldarion nodded. "He's not leaving until the sons of Elrond leave."

"Hopefully he can help my sister."