The Other Ranger [ Lord Of The Rings x Silmarillion ]

Four Hunters

When at last the three others returned to Parth Galen, Miril was ready and waiting for them. They got out of the boat and jumped out onto dry land.

"What have you found, Miril," Aragorn asked quickly. "Surely the best tracker of my Dunedain has discovered something."

"Indeed, I have." She nodded. "Though your tracking skills rival mine, certainly! Do not deny it, Aragorn."

"What have you found," he asked with a small smile.

"At first I tried to decipher the footprints here," she pointed to a spot near the burned out campfire. "However even I could find nothing because of how many tracks there are. This only I am sure of, no orc has been here. But other signs there are."

"Continue." Aragorn prompted her.

With a nod she pointed to a faint set of footprints near the river edge. "A hobbit waded in and out of the water here. And I believe I know who it was. See, Sam's large pack is missing."

Aragorn nodded. "So what happened here?"

"Frodo, while we were gone, was frightened perhaps by orcs into coming back and continuing on alone. However Sam took a disliking to that and waded out. Frodo took him with him across the lake to the Emyn Muil to continue on to Mordor together."

Legolas cocked his head. "Why? Why leave the Fellowship?"

Aragorn nodded. "Very good Miril. To answer your question, Legolas, I believe Frodo felt he could not lead us to what he believes to be certain death. Therefore he intended to leave alone. Sam evidently changed that part."

"Well this is an evil choice," Gimli grumbled. "Already we have lost precious hours to both parties. Do we follow the orcs, or the bearer?"

"Let me think," Aragorn said.

He stood silently for several minutes before nodding to himself. Miril looked at him expectantly, awaiting orders. Legolas and Gimli looked equally willing to do as the man of the North said.

"At last my path is clear to me. We shall follow the orcs. Frodo has passed beyond our help, but we cannot abandon our other companions to torture and death as we surely would if we pursued Frodo and Sam." Aragorn nodded. "Pack lightly! We must travel night and day to catch the orcs. For they move surprisingly swiftly."

They sprang into action immediately. Condensing what they could of the rations, weapons, and clothing into four packs, the four hunters prepared to set off. They hid the remaining boat and supplies in the undergrowth and set off back to the clearing where the hobbits had been taken.

It didn't take an expert to pick up the trail of the orcs. They trampled everything around them and cared not for living things like trees and flowers. Aragorn took the lead, then Legolas and Gimli. Miril maintained the rear position. They set off brusquely, running some portions and swiftly walking others.

Hours sped by, the small company bounding over rocks and leaving behind the trees of Parth Galen. Soon they were running up hills and mounds, the sun going below the horizon, casting red light across their path. It was an ominous sign.

They did little talking on the first leg of their journey, as they desperately tried to catch up with the orc horde. They ran quickly and tirelessly through dusk and into evening and darkness. The moon shone overhead, casting enough light for the four hunters to follow their trail.

Aragorn ordered a short rest. Legolas walked up to him and posed a question.

"Which way will they head, do you think? Northwards, across Rohan and Fangorn to get to Isengard fastest, or will they follow the Entwash?" He mused.

"Unless much is amiss in Rohan and Saruman's power far greater than we believe, the orcs will make directly for Isengard using the fastest route. They will head north." Aragorn decided this quickly and without much deliberation.

Continuing on, they ran between two ridged hills, a small stream beside them. Stones littered this passageway. Legolas was some ways ahead when he gave a cry. The others sprinted to catch up to him.

"See we have overtaken some of our foes already," Legolas said, pointing to what from far away had seemed like rocks.

Now it was obvious that these were bodies of orcs. Aragorn knelt beside them and surveyed the scene. Miril looked on, checking for whatever details she could see. Five dead orcs lay there, hewn with many strokes and two were beheaded.

"Yet another riddle," Gimli sighed. "Who has done this?"

"Rohirrim, perhaps?" Legolas mused. "No matter how it is read, it seems not unhopeful. An enemy of our enemy is likely to be a friend!'

Aragorn shook his head. "Nay, the Rohirrim do not come this far out."

"Look, Aragorn," Miril said, pointing to a shield that had been cast aside. "All these are northern orcs, none are the massive ones from Isengard."

"Very true," he nodded. "Here, I think, is what happened. The enemy brought his own enemy with him. There was a quarrel over something and, as is not uncommon among orcs, the protesters were slain. Evidently the victors were those from Isengard."

They searched long in the grass and rocks for any sign of the results from the debate. Eventually they found a path heading up away from the stream, and swiftly they followed it. They ran and climbed up the side of the hill until eventually they reached the top. Aragorn stared off into the steadily lightening sky at mountains far in the distance.

"Gondor! Gondor! How I long to tread there," he cried sadly. "But alas, I cannot yet."

"You shall get there, my friend." Miril patted his shoulder.

Legolas shouted suddenly. "Look! There it is again! A great eagle, swift on the wind."

"It must be very far off, indeed, for I cannot see it," Aragorn said. "Miril?"

"Barely, but I can indeed make it out." She nodded as she shaded her eyes.

"And look what else there is," Legolas pointed down onto the plains before them. "A great host moves across the plain!"

Miril looked where the elf pointed and nodded. She couldn't make out what kind of folk they were, so far out was the group. But it seemed to be moving swiftly through the green grasses. She smiled.

"At last, we have found our prey," she said.

They made their way down the side of the hill with new found speed, revitalized at the sight of their target. The orcs were leagues away, but they were there at least. Legolas moved lightly over the grass, a new spring in his step.

"Ah how the smell of the grass here is like a night's rest! I could run for many more hours!" The elf smiled.

Miril grinned as well. Her purpose renewed, she longed to move as fast as her legs would take her. But she knew that soon the company would need rest. They could not continue this pace forever. Eventually they would need sleep.