Brothers In Arms: A Middle Earth Story

Chapter 8: One More

We had come to a sewer pipe that ran perpendicular to the city wall; One that likely ran out into the river outside. It was wide enough for us to walk two abreast, and tall enough for us to stand upright. I didn't hesitate, leading the others into what was the closest thing to safe I could think of. The water was low, only just reaching the tops of my boots. A rank stench permeated the air, and as we ventured further in I realized why. Bodies floated atop the stagnant water. Dozens of them. Some were bloated and had likely been there for days, but others were recent. To my horror, I realized that many of them weren't soldiers. As we passed a woman whose skin was still the sickly blue shade of one who only died hours ago, Uirion let out a low grunt.

"What kind of people would do this? Least they could've done was provide them with a proper burial."

As we passed more bodies, Eradan shuddered and pointed to a badly mangled corpse. "Orcs did this."

I drew closer to the body he had indicated, and as I did a strange feeling of dread filled my gut. I leaned closer, waving Eradan over. The corpse had had the flesh ripped from it and was almost unrecognizable as a person, aside from the tattered merchant's clothes that still clung to his mauled flesh. Blood dripped into the water around it from the countless lacerations... Fresh blood. Eradan's eyes widened as he came to the same realization I had.

"Something's down here."

In answer, a distant thud echoed off of the sewer walls. Boom. Another accompanied it, followed by a low hum coming from further down the depths of the long, winding path. The thuds began to take a hellish rhythm: Boom, boom boom, boom, boom boom. The hum rose into a guttural chant, its words foreign and frightening to my ears. Burz, motsham, burz, motsham. The voices grew closer, seeming to surround us and fill the corridor with dread.

"What evil is this...?" Aerel gasped, her knuckles white from how tightly she gripped her sword.

As if in answer, the chant transformed into words we could all understand. And those words sent chills down the spines of each and every one of us:

"Dark, ancient dark, ancient dark,

From twisted elf and painful shade,

From countless strokes of shadow'd blade

He rose above the others failed

The First of Morgoth's hand prevailed"

As the last words were uttered a last thundering boom sounded, smoke filling the sewers.

"Run!" I shouted for what seemed like the thousandth time that day... But this time panic overtook me. A shape materialized from the smoke as I turned to follow my comrades; a shape clad in spiked armor and standing a full head taller than any of us.

I didn't wait to see any more, completing my turn and barreling down the tunnel after my companions. The iron thud of footsteps followed behind us, forcing me to quicken my pace. Aerel and Eradan now held Ohtar between them, but it was readily apparent that he didn't think he needed any help. The corded muscles of his forearms rippled as he attempted to shove them away, but even in the fading light of the sewers I could see how pale his skin was. We didn't have much time.

A piercing howl rang out behind us, one of frustration and rage. Perhaps we were losing our unknown foe?

Indeed, it soon seemed to be so, and after a few moments of running as quickly as we could we began to see the telltale light of ensconced torches ahead. The sound of the enemy had faded, too. In fact, the only thing I could hear when we stopped in the torchlight was the ragged breathing of Ohtar.

"How do you fare?" I asked the larger man, still watching pensively behind us.

He shrugged nonchalantly, but I could see the hint of pain in his bloodshot eyes. "Better than those bloated corpses," he said with a grunt.

"Just a little further now," I encouraged, peering out into the night just beyond. The torches on either side of the sewer seemed to mark the end, for ahead of us the path opened into a shallow portion of the Anduin. The water reflected the bright stars above, its surface deceptively peaceful.

I led the group single-file along the edge of the sewer mouth, careful not to fall into the water below. Once we had all passed without incident, we made our way south along the outer wall until the forest met it.

Though it appeared as though we had lost our hunters, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. First it was faint, a barely-perceived thought in the darkest corners of my mind. But after an hour or so of moving from tree to tree, that thought began to consume my mind, and every shadow slowly transformed into the armored fiend we had encountered in the sewer.

The sight of lights in the distance quickly offered me a reprieve, however, and I led my companions toward them with barely concealed relief.

We had, completely by chance it seemed, stumbled upon a small hamlet in the midst of the forest. Despite the optimism that began to creep into my heart I knew better than to chance a hope, for such hope had been quenched at every turn thus far in our quest.

"Lights mean someone's inside," Aerel practically sung, the worry in her eyes fading.

"Someone... Or something," Uirion said darkly, resting a hand on his blade.

I agreed. It all seemed too good to be true.

"Eradan," I began, my tone taking on that of a commander once more. "Take Uirion around to the back entrance. I shall go to the front. On my signal, we'll kick in the doors and face whatever dwells within, be it man or orc."

"I'll stay with Ohtar," Aerel said, helping the former bandit rest against a nearby oak tree. His face had taken on a ghostly hue, and blood was beginning to soak through the hastily applied bandages he wore around his midsection.

"Don't have too much fun without me," he said with a laugh, but it soon turned into a hitching cough that constricted my heart with fear, for it was a cough I had heard many times; that of a man soon to die.

After giving him a reassuring smile and a nod, I hurried to take my position. The building, a lone cottage, seemed to have belonged to a lumberjack at one point, though the signs of disuse were clear. A small pile of logs sat beside the house, but those at the bottom had begun to be reclaimed by the ground around them. A rusty axe sat lodged in a chopping block, rotted wood that must have been split months ago surrounding it.

I stealthily arrived at the front door, waiting a moment for the others to take position as well. Though I pressed my ear against the door, I could hear nothing. Perhaps it was abandoned after all...

Nonetheless, I gave a signal, a shrill whistle accompanied by two more short ones. Then I sprang into action, landing a powerful kick just under the door's handle.

I didn't even wait for it to swing open fully, rushing inside with my blade drawn.

But when I entered, I was greeted by two pairs of eyes staring back at me.

At long last, I've mustered the inspiration to write more of this! Let me know what you think, and if I should finish this story up!