Lapsus Memoriae [Rávamë's Bane: Book 1]

Part II : Chapter 10 ~ Snow to the Face & A Sting to the Pride

Part II : Chapter 10

- Snow to the Face & A Sting to the Pride -

~ ♛ ~

Walking on top of snow felt like walking on top of polystyrene packing peas, which might have been ok if the wind wasn’t howling around us at about a hundred miles a minute. 

Two hours after the uncomfortably tense moment with Boromir and the Ring, we’d reached the higher part of the pass. Just our luck; right after we’d begun to pick our way along a very narrow plateau, a blizzard had decided it might be fun to come along for the ride. Ten minutes later, everyone was literally up to their chests in the snow. The poor shivering hobbits could barely see where they were going as Gandalf carved us a path from the front of the line. 

Legolas and I — being the only two elves in the company — had the benefit of being light-footed enough to walk on top of the snow rather than through it. Legolas moved effortlessly ahead of us all, barely leaving a footprint where ever he stepped. I on the other hand, had to cling inelegantly to the side of the mountain as I struggled to stay vertical, let alone keep up. The wind was so strong I was sure if I let go I’d be blown off my feet and over the edge.

“There is a fell voice on the air.” Legolas called back at us from where he’d suddenly stopped at the front of the line. How any of us heard him over the howl of the wind, I have no idea — but from Gandalf’s sudden reaction of horror you’d have thought he’d shouted ‘bomb!’

“It’s Saruman!” He yelled, just as a deafening cracking sound rumbled down through the cliff and through the stone beneath our feet. Fragments of ice, snow and rock the size of both my fists started tumbling and crashing down all around us, the pieces getting bigger with every roll of thunder. 

One piece smacked straight down onto my bruised arm, knocking me into the snow and sending waves of pain up my shoulder.

“Argh! Bastard!” I cursed, equal parts pained and terrified.

“He’s trying to bring down the mountain!” Aragorn shouted, pulling the hobbits as far back from he edge as he could, “Gandalf, we must turn back!”

“No!” The wizard clamoured back, pulling himself out of the snow and right up to the edge of the plateau. For a moment, when that old man opened his mouth and began to shout, I honestly thought an earthquake had come to join the party along with the storm.

“Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho I ruith! *”

The wind only seemed to get more violent as the two wizard’s voices thundered across the mountain tops, louder and more hellish that anything the storm itself could have conjured. 

Then it happened again.

A familiar feeling swam in my head. The same kind I’d felt just before my first blackout/flashback in the Council hall. My vision swam, my stomach rolled, and my whole body went almost wonderfully numb. It wasn’t a blackout this time. I could see shapes forming in the falling snow though my foggy vision, distant sounds appearing in the howling wind.

Two armies. One entirely of humans and elves all around me, and the other of nightmarish beasts and battle-crazed men charging headlong towards us over the field. A man in warrior’s armour sat astride a horse at my side, his face turned to watch the first volley of arrows shred through the oncoming hoard. I knew that he was familiar, but I couldn’t quite make out his face. I opened my mouth to say his name, but the sound was lost in the distant howl of the wind and screams of dying monsters. He turned slowly to look at me. I was sure that if I could just get him to meet my eyes I’d be able to recognise him…