The Family Line Part 46 – A Friend in Bree

Part 46 – A Friend in Bree

An eerie land, blood red in color, layed about. Dark pools of crimson water filled depressions in the land all about where trees grew warped and the land itself seemed gloomy and sinister. There were ruins amongst the twisted trees and bloody pools. Old ruins, they were, of some ancient people that had lived long ago abandoned and never repaired the crumbling walls of stone of which they abandoned.

Amongst the stones and the blood red pools a man strode through quickly and with all vigilance. He was a brutish man, strong and confident but had a certain caution about him as if he was wise beyond count of years. His calm demeanor told of his absolute confidence in himself and of his abilities. He did not look afraid of the place that seemed so grim. He was, by all accounts, full of sureness that he, no matter what, was able to combat what ever evils where in the place of evil.

That was to his detriment. As he made his way through the red land of evil he was suddenly struck in the back by a dagger. It pierce him so deep that the hilt of the daggar was almost imbedded inside of him. He was then struck in the head by the hilt of another dagger and pushed down into the closest pools of blood-red water. There he lied, not being able to take in a dying breath as the water stifled any ability to take in air.

Eleswith awoke. Her eyes were filled with tears as she tried to catch a breath. She looked around in the cabin she was in, sweated profusely and tried to take in as much air as she could. It was dark in the room where she and Theomin were. A worried look stuck on her face and she laid down but could not go back to sleep. For the remainder of the night, she stared up at the ceiling but did not sleep at all.

Knock, knock, knock could be heard far off outside. The knocking woke Theomin from his most restful sleep he had since the Inn of the Prancing Pony. Though his injuries he had sustained were horrible and painful, that did not keep him from finally enjoying a night’s rest. He rose up but still felt a little too light headed. He sat back down on his bed and gathered himself. His body was still in a lot of pain but his sense of freedom gave him the strength to rise up from the bed. He carefully made his way to the door.

The sun shone bright on Theomin. It was too bright, much like his first time coming outside of the hut in Avardin. The surrounding sky was blue with the occasional cloud dotting the sky as the birds chirped, singing their sweet melodies. The sweetest melody Theomin had heard in the longest time. He took for granted the joyous sounds of the birds, the clean smell of the air, the breeze upon his skin, the warm embrace of the sun. It was as if being imprisoned was a terrible nighmare he could not, for a very long while, wake from.

He stepped on the soft free earth and looked out upon the land. It was as bright and as green as any place in Rohan, or perhaps brighter. He hiked down the small hill overlooking the peaceful expance of land. Before the small cottage a road passed along past the house and extended up a hill. The other way was the seen the village of Bree. Theomin’s heart raced as he feared they would be out looking for him. The dark façade of the homes looked ominous amongst the beautiful blue sky and soft green grass. To Theomin, it had been turned to a place of horrors, even if his first night in Bree was not so terrible.

From the same direction as Bree, Eleswith came up to Theomin. She had been given a different set of clothes. She looked less dingy and more relaxed in her new cloth. It was a white collared shirt with sleeves rolled up and folded by the cuff. Over the shirt a red cloth vest she had . Her pants were also new, strong and dark in color and surrounded by a belt at the top with a silver buckle in the front. Her boots were dark but at the brim on the top, folded down to reveal a light inner lining. On the outside she looked completely refreshed. Her face told a different story. She did not look as rested as she should have, though they were both free. It looked like she had been awake for a long time and needed sleep. The dark circles under her eyes told of her exhaustion. “You look much different than before. A change of clothes, and colors for that matter, would do that to a person, I suppose.” Eleswith just nodded, almost half awake. “Where did you find such clothes?”

“They were given to me by the elf. He said we must conceal our identies. I just assumed we wear masks.” Theomin chuckled. He felt more relaxed and happy to hear a jest from Eleswith. “How was your sleep?” she asked.

“It was the best sleep for a long time. I remember not when I slept so soundly,” answered Theomin happily. He looked back at the house and then at Eleswith, “Is this the home of the elf?”

“It is not,” she said. “If you would like to meet our host, he is not far from here.” She pointed south toward Bree. “There is a path that runs into the hills just before Bree. A cemitary there is. You will find him there.”

She started on her way back to the little cottage. “Where are you going? Will you not join me?” Theomin asked.

“I am sorry, Theomin,” she said with her eyes half open, “I am in need of rest. I awoke to a terrible dream early this morning but could not sleep.”

She started to the cottage but Theomin stopped her again, “And the elf. Have you any idea of his whereabouts?” Eleswith just shook her head and dragged her feet into the house. Theomin just shrugged off Eleswith and took the short hike to the cemitary down in the hills. There, a man clad in dark cloth was standing infront of some graves, apparently grieving. He looked to be clad in the same cloth as those he met in the haunted woods near Dunland many nights before.

Not wanting to disturb the man, he turned and headed back to the house but the man spoke up, “You may approach, man from Rohan.”

Theomin turned. His back was still turned toward Theomin. “I suppose Eleswith told you from where I was.”

“Your friend told me nothing of where you were from,” he said grimly. “I already know who you are.”

“How do you know who I am?” Theomin had to ask.

“Thanncen informed me of you. He was quite impressed with your ability to remain alive, despite your continuous beatings.”

“Thanncen?” Theomin questioned until he realized that was the name that captain called the elf. “I see, the elf.” The dark man nodded as Theomin continued, “It was the hobbit that kept me alive,” Theomin admitted.

The man in the grim cloth turned to Theomin. “It was not only the hobbit, Theomin. Thanncen had a major hand in it, as did I. My name is Saeradan and I am one of but a few rangers left here in the north.”

“Saeradan,” Theomin whispered to himself. “I was tasked to find you.”

The man approached Theomin. His grey gaze looked intensly upon Theomin. “It has been a long while since I heard news that was not ill in nature.” He looked away in sadness, haunted by some sorrowful memory, “All about are the graves of my companions, my friends…” he paused, “my family.” He looked at the graves of his fallen companions, “For a long while felt, when I was finished burying my family, I had no purpose but to live out my life here in Bree-land, awaiting either for aged death to take me or for the darkness to spread out of the east and aid Eriador in any way possible.” His eyes pooled in tears, “Either way, grim days were upon me as I would either be useless or the war in the south went horribly wrong.” He then looked upon Theomin with a smile, “You were my first sign of hope.”

“Me?”

“After you were taken in by the captain of Bree, the prison guards looked through your personal effects in your saddle bag and through your pockets in your clothes. They came across two items of value to us.” His tone grew from sadness to hope, “a cloth bearing a single white star in a blue field you bore in your saddle bag. And in your pocket was a necklace that was just assumed lost to thieves or orcs,” he looked at Theomin with hopefulness, “along with its owner.”

“Are you saying that necklace belongs to the men of the north aswell?”

“That I am, Theomin,” he said. “It was called, in ages past, Amar Calad, Earth Light. It has special properties that can only make it the Amar Calad. I will not speak of those properties until we are certain it is that stone.”

“But how did it come to me if I found it in an Easterling camp in Rohan?”

“That is one of the properties of such a wonderous stone of ages past. It finds its way back into its owner’s hand by ways I cannot possibly understand. But when the elf came to me with these items, I could not believe they still existed and were brought back here. It was as if fate brought you back here. Just with those two items we knew your life had to be spared. So Thanncen tried to convince the mayor you were not the one who killed his son. When his many attempts failed, he knew the only way to save you was to break the mayor’s faith in him and break you out. You, Eleswith, and Thanncen are now enemies of Bree. I am sorry to say that, with the mayor so devastated over losing his eldest son, he is blind with rage over that and will not see reason. You are now the enemy of Bree and must leave with haste as soon as you are well.”

“But who killed his son if it was not me?” Theomin insisted.

“I will not reveal that and it is best not to reveal it until the time is right. Even the killer did not know,” he said with regret. “But the true killer was told and must now face what ever consequences they deserve.”

“Who was the killer?” Theomin persisted. “I must know.”

“In time, Theomin. In time.” He took up Amar Calad and handed it over to Theomin, who graciously took it. “This belongs to you, Theomin of Rohan. Take it and return it to the north.”

“So you know, then, where I must go?” Theomin asked. “I must find my way to Fornost.”

“I am sorry, Theomin,” the man said, “but you will find not but death in Fornost. It is wrought with the ancient ghosts of the men long dead. Fell creatures, they are, and none have ventured there for many counts of years. I should know. Many years have I wandered that place in search of life, not death. But death is all I have found. ” By that time Thanncen arrived but with worry. “What troubles you, Thanncen?”

“I spotted a group riding out from Bree. They rode west along the road toward Adso’s farm. They did not see me but I came here with all haste hoping to find you.” He looked at Theomin, “Theomin, we need to get you to the tunnels.”

They ran Theomin over toward the path that took him to the tunnels but the horsemen were already on their way to different houses of Breeland. If they went to the tunnels they would be seen. “I have a place,” the grim man in dark cloth told them. “It is not much but it’s enough to fit three.”

Theomin and Thannsen glanced at each other and the elf spoke up, “we must, we have no choice.”

“And what of my horse?” Theomin asked as they ran.

“Your horse was taken to Hengstacer farm. Tis not far from here but we will not make it there. The guards’ horses ride too quickly,” Thanncen said.

The man took Theomin back to his house and shut the door. Inside, Eleswith woke from just a moment of sleep. “What’s happening?”

“The men of Bree are approaching,” said the elf scrambling to aid the grim man move things out of the way, including a cover.

The grim man then opened a cellar and motioned for Theomin, Eleswith, and Thanncen to decend into the cellar. “I hear them approach,” he warned the three. “Make no noise.” He then shut the cellar door and moved things in the way of the cellar. The cellar was dark and cluttered. Few crates and blankets were stored inside and all were covered in a thick coat of dust. Bottles of wine were held on a rack behind the crates and those too had a thin coat of dust. As theyall three looked up the grim man could be seen through the thin slits in the floorboards as he walked casually to the door and opening it.

There stood the captain of Bree in the door. “Saeradan,” the captain greeted the grim man. His voice was somewhat muffled as the sound was tough to carry down into the cellar. “Might I come in for a chat?” The grim man let him into his cottage with no reservations. He entered into the cabin and the floorboards squeeked and cracked. Dust floated down from beneath the boards as the two continued chatting. “So how was your adventure to the south? Anything to report?” the captain asked as he took a seat at the nearby table. They continued to engage in small talk until the grim man asked what they were doing outside of Bree. “A man and a woman escaped from the Bree prison. The man was reported to kill the mayor’s son and the woman was, apparently, his accomplice.”

“Are you sure of this?” the man asked the captain.

“Beyond doubt. Gram’s brother witnessed the entire thing,” the captain said. “What is worse is Thanncen aided in their escape. Odd that he would chose now to enrage the mayor. It is not like him to disrespect the mayor so forwardly.”

“Well,” the grim man said standing up, “if I see Thanncen I will report to you right away.”

“Will you?” the captain said grateful for the support of the man. “The rangers have always been friends of Bree so I have no doubt you will.”

The captain started to leave when a stray speck of dust floated down and entered into Eleswith’s eye. She moved her head too quickly and disturbed some of the bottles of wine next to her. The clinking sound haulted the captain before reaching the door. More than his stong conviction and strong sense of moral right, it was his keen ear that was why Burt Thistlerose quickly rose in the ranks to be captain of the guard of Bree. He could detect the smallest of sounds in a field. This day, though, he detected the smallest sound in Saeradan’s house. “I heard a noise, Saeradan.”

The elf took one of the blankets and placed it over Theomin and Eleswith. He then stood in a small corner not far from the ladder that led into the cellar. The familiar sound of an unsheathed sword could be heard above as the captain searched Saeradan’s house. Then a shuffling of items led to a stamping on the hatch. “What is this, Saeradan?”

“If you must know,” Saeradan started, “I have a few bottles of wine in crates below the house. The wine has become quit an annoyance since I have returned to a family of mice living in my cottage.”

“Mice?” the captain questioned. He nodded but only half believing the grim ranger, “Mice, aye.” He thought for a moment, “Then you would not mind if I search this mice ridden cellar of yours.”

Without hesitation the ranger gestured for the captain to search, “If you must.”

The captain lifted the hatch to the cellar. He sat down with this feet dangling down into the celler. He then pushed himself off and jumped down into the cellar. He looked about in the cellar at the wines and then noticed the blanket propped up hiding something. With the tip of his sword he poked at the blanket. It gave way just a little bit and then with his other hand he swiped away the blanket, revealing Theomin and Eleswith. The captain was about to yell out to his companions when Thenncen grabbed his mouth from behind and held a daggar at the captain’s throat.

“How many are there, Saeradan?” the elf loudly asked.

Saeradan looked out the window, “I see two others waiting outside.”

Two?” Eleswith said, not sure of what to do. “Were do we go? Is there a secret door out of this cellar?”

Saeradan, who was already kneeling down looking his at friends in the cellar answered, “I am sorry, Eleswith. This is just a simple cellar.”

“We cannot combat four of these men of Bree with no swords and with no gear,” said Eleswith.

“You may not have to,” the elf said, a plan forming in his tone of voice.

“What are you planning, Thanncen?” Saeradan asked.

“I will exit first holding the captain much like I am now. Saeradan, if you would join me and hold your bow to the other guards and I will order the men to stand down while Theomin and Eleswith escape to Hengstacer’s farm.”

“And what if they refuse to let us leave?” Theomin had to ask. “We are fugitives.”

“They will let us,” the elf said confidently, “They would rather you escape than risk the life of their beloved captain.”

“Okay,” said Saeradan, “That sounds like a plan.”

The ranger ripped a wad of cloth and handed it down to Eleswith to place in the captain’s mouth. They then bound the captain’s hand’s and hoisted the captain out of the cellar as Thanncen, Theomin, and then Eleswith exited the cellar. Thanncen then grabbed the captain by the throat and placed his dagger at it.

Theomin stopped and had to ask the ranger, “Are you sure you want to do this? You are friends with the men of Bree. You will lose your house.”

Saeradan smiled at Theomin, “There are greater things in this life than great standings with Bree and living the rest of my days in this little cottage. My loyalties lie with truth and goodness and that one day the truth will be revealed to the mayor.” He looked at Eleswith, “And that the truth will be revealed to all of us.”

With everbody assuming their places, with Thanncen holding the captain at the front, Saeradan next followed by Eleswith and Theomin, they were all ready to leave. Thanncen readied his leg and announced, “here we go,” he kicked open the door and exited Saeradan’s cottage.