Warriors of the Twilight (Updated Version)

Chapter Three

The moon shone as a silvery sliver in the night sky, bathing the land below in a low, eerie light. Stars peeped out, gleaming gems in the dark firmament.

Yet neither the silver moon nor the diamond-like stars lent much light as midnight approached on the plains of Rohan.

Thalion sat in the foreboding dark, wrapped in his cloak, watching over the camp of him and his companion. He shuddered as the frigid winter winds whistled down to him from their birth-place in the snow covered mountains.

He glanced around himself, wondering what creatures may be skulking about in the dark, just beyond the circle of light and safety provided by the fire he hunched over now.

Why is it always times like these that Strider's tales and songs of monsters and goblins and Orcs and Nazgul always seem to come to me? He sighed, glancing over at his companion, sleeping in the dark nearby.

A strange stirring sound in the darkness caught young Thalion's attention. He sat up straighter, and his pulse quickened. Straight away, stories he had read in Rivendell, of the early Elves disappearing when they wandered away, being waylaid and carried off by strange, shadowy creatures, crept into his mind, like a growing shadow of fear.

Why did I read those stories in Lord Elrond's library? He inwardly chided himself for thinking such foolish things as the idea that the fell creatures that plagued the Firstborn race in the years of their dawn had come back for the specific purpose of bothering him in the night. Those years are long past. I needn't fear shadows in the dark. They have disappeared with the ages they lived in, many eons ago. Still, he glanced about himself nervously, wondering once more what night and dark-loving creatures may be watching him.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

I've nothing to fear. There is no warrior in the world as great as Strider. He could fight any such creature as may think to come into our camp. After all, no night-loving beast, Orc, or Goblin would dare come into this circle of light, where the fire lies. Yet no sooner had the young man assured himself in this manner, then a hand clamped down, hard and strong, on his shoulder.

Thalion tried to cry out, meaning to alert Strider of the intruder, but the sound was muffled by the other hand of his attacker, which covered his mouth, pulling his head back against the creature's chest. It hissed violently, gripping him tightly. Thalion flung an elbow into the creature's rib, but his adversary's other hand, which had been on Thalion's shoulder, wrapped around his arms, pinning them with a terrifically strong grip. All the while continuing its fell hissing as it gripped Thalion tightly against itself, and struggle as he might, Thalion could not break free of it's grasp.

The hissing grew louder and more intense, and Thalion could now feel the fell creature's face pressed near against his ear, hissing into it without cease, low and menacing.

Suddenly the creature threw Thalion to the ground and pounced upon him ere he had any chance of rising. It clamped its hand once again over the young Ranger's mouth, and then pressed it's face close against his ear. Harsh and commanding, yet barely audible, the creature whispered:

"Be silent, you fool. There is something out there."

At hearing the voice, Thalion quit his struggling, and his cheeks began to burn with the heat of embarrassment.

For this was not some fell creature of Mordor, nor of Morgoth, nor Sauron. It was Strider, his traveling companion. The hissing made perfect sense now, for it had not been hissing at all, but his companion bidding Thalion be silent.