"Get back or I'll put an arrow though your skull, I swear to Eru!" A shrill voice cried.
A young woman stood before me, a fully drawn hunting bow in her hands. She couldn't have been any older than twenty years old, and her small frame struggled to keep the bow pulled back. Nonetheless, I could tell that she meant what she had said, and seeing that I was no orc hadn't eased her nerves.
A split second later the back door broke off its hinges and Eradan and Uirion entered, fierce expressions on their faces. The woman turned her aim to them, slowly backing into a corner of the cottage. The sudden wail of an infant made me realize why she was being so protective, and I noticed that she had backed in front of a small cradle. I immediately held my hands out in front of me in a gesture of goodwill, careful to move slowly so she wouldn't fire upon the others.
"Stay your aim!" I exclaimed, at the same time motioning for my companions to lower their weapons. "We are soldiers of the White Tree and mean you no harm!"
"That's exactly what the others said!" She cried. "Where's your device then, soldier??"
I slowly held out my sword pommel-first, displaying the White Tree clearly engraved into it. The woman didn't falter.
"You easily could've stolen it," she said. It seemed as if nothing would convince her.
"Please," I pleaded, gently setting my sword on a nearby table. "We need help. One of my men is mortally wounded and may soon die if we don't make an effort to save him."
Her expression softened almost imperceptibly, but she made no move to lower her bow. "If you speak the truth, tell your men to back out of the cottage slowly. Bring your wounded man to the window, that I might see him."
Despite their apprehensive expressions, I nodded, indicating for them to carry out the order. A moment later they returned, rapping lightly on the shutters. I displayed my empty hands to the woman, and she finally lowered the bow, instead drawing a small knife as she moved to look out the window.
She practically gasped upon seeing the condition Ohtar was in, and almost immediately rushed outside to help Aerel bring him in.
"He's close to death," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Soldiers or not, I'll see what's left in my larder to aid him."
I followed her to the larder, which was soon revealed to be practically empty. "I apologize. Outlaws came three weeks ago, and..." She trailed off. "I had to use most of my medicinal supplies on myself. There's not much left."
I now understood why she had been so wary of us. Clad in a mix of Haradrim armor and our own ragged uniforms, we must have looked like outlaws ourselves.
"No need to apologize m'lady," I said with a slight bow. "War has left no home untouched. Are you still injured?"
"Nay," she replied quietly. "At least, not physically. Some scars will never heal, I'm afraid." At this she looked away, as if some things were better left unsaid. "But forgive my rudeness, I never asked for your name."
"I'm Captain Turin, son of Altirion. My soldiers and I were sent on a mission behind enemy lines. These are all that remain." I motioned to the others. Eradan gave a slight nod of acknowledgment but the others were focused on Ohtar, watching Aerel as she worked to stay the flow of blood.
"I'm Miriel," the girl replied, morbid curiosity drawing her gaze to Aerel's work.
"Tell me, Miriel," I began, trying to draw her attention away from the blood. "Why do you dwell alone, far from all others?"
She looked down at her feet. "I wasn't alone. My husband Faranor dwelt here with me, but war called him away a month before the birth of our son. Several weeks later..." Her tone faltered. "A messenger arrived. He had been killed at Osgiliath, as had his brother and father."
"I am sorry, truly I am," I replied, but my tone didn't reflect the words of empathy. Instead, I felt a conspicuous absence of sorrow at her words. Perhaps I had witnessed so much death that I was now numb to it, unfeeling as frostbitten skin. She seemed to notice but smiled kindly in response.
"You must have been through Udun to get here," she said softly. I turned away, the images of all we had endured burned in my memory. The memory of the forest aflame all around us. The hellish image of the Haradrim slaver's glare through the fire. The bodies stacked high outside Cair Sirion's sickly white walls, and the stench that accompanied the rank air around them. Thorondir's blood-stained smile as he turned to face the enemy one last time.
"We have," was all I managed to say, my voice hoarse with unspoken feeling. A cry from Ohtar drew me back to the moment at hand, and I rushed to his side.
"The blade shattered upon entering his body," Aerel said, holding a bloody spike of metal in front of her. "There are far too many fragments for me to find them all..."
Ohtar let out a pained laugh. "Keep em in. It'll build character."
Aerel smiled at him reassuringly before she pulled me aside, her voice lowering to a whisper. "There is little more I can do. The blade was poisoned."
Morgoth. I squeezed the bridge of my nose between my fingers, letting out a tired sigh. "How much time does he have?"
The healer bit her lower lip apprehensively. "Several hours at most. The Haradrim use viper venom on their javelins; It's a quick-acting poison that has already begun to paralyze him."
I cursed once more under my breath. "We'll need to fashion a gurney, then. I-"
She cut me off, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Turin... It's already too late. I'm a healer. To think of mercy is my duty, but Ohtar is beyond our help now. It is your task as commander of this mission to look to the others, to care for them. And now we have a mother and her infant with us."
I nodded slowly, the numbness of loss the only thing keeping me from arguing. "You're right, of course. Is there any way you can make him more comfortable, at least?"
"Yes," she said. "I'll do what I can."
=========================
Soon Ohtar was propped on a cushioned chair, his legs stretched out on another chair opposite him. Despite his pain, he gave each of us a smile, stretching his arms out and yawning.
"I could just about take a nap here," he said, leaning back in the seat. He attempted to stretch his legs but his eyes widened in surprise. "I... A can't feel 'em. My legs."
Aerel went to his side. "Just try to rest. You need it."
"But my legs! I can't feel my bloody legs!" He exclaimed, the panic rising in his voice as he struggled to move.
Aerel glanced at me, and I gave her a slight nod. "You've been poisoned," she explained in as gentle a tone as she could. "The paralysis will spread over time."
The look of fear on the outlaw's face turned to one of sudden sadness. "Oh... I see." Was all he managed to say.
"We'll stay with you for as long as you wish us to," she continued, taking his burly hand in her own.
He sat there for a moment in silence, coming to grips with the reality of the situation. We all stood quietly by, waiting for him to speak once more. When he did, his tone was confident once more.
"No... You all need to go. That thing is close behind us, and you'll need all the time you can get." His eyes landed on me. "Make the right call, captain."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Aerel exchanged glances with me. I knew what we had to do... But I was afraid to do it. Thorondir's death had been partly my fault, but I still knew that I wasn't directly to blame. This, though...
Ohtar seemed to read my mind. "If you're gonna feel guilty about it, I'll make the call. I'm staying, you're going. Give me my sword, and we shall see who dares to harm me."
After a long moment I nodded. "Very well. Eradan, give me his sword."
Eradan strode to Ohtar's side, sword in hand. I took the curved blade in my hand, studying it for a moment before speaking.
"As a captain of the Tower Guard, it is my right and duty to bestow the honor of knighthood upon those who have proven themselves. Ohtar, for your service to country and comrade, I am granting you this honor. Repeat after me."
"Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor, and to the Lord and Steward of the realm,"
"Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor, and to the Lord and Steward of the realm,"
"To serve and protect,"
"To serve and protect,"
"To honor and respect,
"To honor and respect,"
"To follow and live,"
"To follow and live,"
"in need or plenty, in peace or war, in living or dying,"
"In need or plenty, in peace or war, in living or dying,"
"from this hour henceforth, until my lord release me, or death take me, or the world end."
"from this hour henceforth, until my lord release me, or death take me, or the world end. So swear I, Ohtar son of Freyard of Blackroot Vale."
"Then rise, knight of Gondor," I said, tapping each of his shoulders with the blade before handing it back to him.
"But don't actually rise," Aerel said with a gentle laugh, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. Indeed it seemed that Miriel had been moved to tears as well, and even Eradan's eyes were red-rimmed.
"Sir Ohtar has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" The bandit said proudly. He tried to reach for his sword, but his arm fell limp at his side.
"The poison is moving quickly," Aerel said, moving to help him grasp the sword in his hand.
"You're a woman of faith," Ohtar replied. "Tell me of your Eru before it all ends for me. I would at least know of the one I shall soon see."
And so she did, each of us listening intently to her words. I still doubted the power of Eru. The countless bodies and cries of dying men were still far too prominent in my mind to think that such a good existed in the world. But as they had when I first met Aerel, the words she spoke to Ohtar were logical, and I soon found myself contemplating once more.
When she had finished we were left in silence once more, each of us deep in thought. It was Eradan who spoke first, snapping us out of what seemed to be a trance.
"We should go. I feel a darkness approaching."
Before he spoke I had noticed nothing, but now I felt an uneasiness, that wretched feeling one gets when being watched against their will. "Agreed. Miriel, you must come too. It is not safe here."
Uirion rose from the chair he had been sitting in, speaking for the first time since our arrival. "She won't be safe with us, either. Our enemy pursues us for a reason, I fear. And he will not be dissuaded from his pursuit by Ohtar."
He was right. Our journey was one of peril. We would soon be walking into a battlefield, and that was no place for a young mother and her infant child.
"Since it's your life on the line, what do you propose?" I asked, turning to Miriel. She practically flinched under the sudden scrutiny.
"I do not wish to be a burden upon you or your soldiers," she said meekly. "I can take my child and flee north. I have family among the woodsmen."
"With all due respect," Uirion interjected. "Orcs have been swarming out of Dol Guldur, the north road will hardly be safe."
"Then perhaps one of us should accompany her," I mused. "Uirion, would you be averse to such a mission?"
The scarred man shook his head. "It would be my honor."
Just then a distant shriek was heard in the forest outside, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
The Dark One had come.