New Dawn

Chapter 4

         In the past, when you first came to the place of your birth, you were an untrained girl daunted by a new world. I, being one of the most trusted generals of Lord Celeborn's galadhrim, was tasked in training you in combat and in the impossible task of burgeoning your knowledge on your given abilities.

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D E V E R
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          Grasses swayed stiffly, their course green stalks playing in front of my eyes. I looked passed the dark greenery, shaking my head as the grass tickled my ears and neck, to the old shed. It was times like these, when I could've watched from a long distance away, I wished to be an elf.

          These green plains, east of Dale and Mirkwood, were barren of everything except for course grass. People only ever passed through these fields. Only ever set up a tent with a dancing fire, making plans to continue onwards the next day. With no river or stream cutting through the course plain, no other vegetation except for grass and the occasion course brush, no permanent structures dotted the landscape.

          This shed, it defied those standards. No house accompanied it, no farm. Just a free-standing shed, alone in the wilderness.

         It reminded me of a votive candle. Short and had to have a reserve of secrets inside to fuel my and the Western Hope's suspicion. But within this vast landscape, it'd drown in its secrets.

    But not before I delve into them.

    I knew something had to be dwelling within those walls, something important. Even though Eomer was only a little skeptical, Aragorn had the same suspicion as me. People were dying, orcs were raiding towns. This was our chance to be one step ahead of those organized attacks, to learn of the next raid and stop it before it happens.

    Mother's pendant felt like a weight around my neck and I couldn't stop myself from seeing her sightless eyes.

    I tapped a rhythm on the ground, hard and painful, and strained my ears. Past the droning of wind through the thick stalks, I heard only silence and so with careful feet, I picked forward, keeping low to the ground.

    The shed's dark wood walls appeared to come from the trees native to a forest east from here, the logs would've had to have been carted here by a team of horses or trolls, possibly even wargs. However, trolls would have been extra effort to bring all the way out here and wargs were sometimes hard to control. Horses though, orcs—or honorless fools—could have easily stolen those. Judging by the terrain and how hard it would've been to get supplies here to feed those alive, horses would have been used.

    I flipped my knife from its sheath, knowing if an adversary rounded the corner—which was highly unlikely—I'd throw by holding the blade since the handle was heavy. Instead of throwing the knife, I scratched a starburst pattern into the wood and then crept quickly to the door.

    Heart pounding up my throat, I pressed an ear lightly to the door—and tapped softly in a quick, common threshing bird's pattern. Retreating, I pressed myself up against the wall as the door opened. Hatred coursed through my veins as an orc peered out, its squinting eyes peering almost uselessly into the daylight. Those eyes seemed to be an abyss of hatred and evil, devoid of anything good.

    A distorted voice grumbled. "Only a bird was it?"

    "Shut it, Grund. I'll stuff your corpse with bird feathers if you don't shut it about stickin' birds."

    "Ha! You need better insults—"

    The orc shut the door, but I inserted a piece of thick cloth into the door frame, preventing the door from closing fully. And just like the inattentive sentries the orcs were, they didn't notice.