Alfýkin: The Last of the Elves

A Thief and a Spy

Illeandir was crouched less than one hundred yards from the entrance to Minas Tirith. The doors that had been reconstructed after the War of the Ring loomed large and imposing, and slightly ajar. The doors were the only way in. He'd tried scaling the walls but after fifteen feet there was nothing to hold onto and he dropped back down. He thought about digging but dismissed the idea as soon as it came. It would take weeks to complete and he only had days. He also had little idea of how deep the wall went underground and how thick it was. He would have to slip unnoticed through the doors. A process that appealed to him more than climbing the wall and then descending, which took time, time that could very well result with him being spotted. Distracting the two guards outside and quickly slipping between the doors took a lot less time.

Slowly he crept forward, freezing every time a guard stirred himself and looked around before settling back down. It was late in their shift and they were both looking forward to their relief and a cold ale in the nearest tavern. The younger guard leaned heavily on his spear and watched the tips of his boots. The older one let his gaze travel slowly over the plain in front of him. To slowly. Illeandir was able to move several feet each time the man looked away. The tall grass hid him from sight and the slight breeze that made the stalks bend and sway hid his movements.

So intent was he on the guards that he nearly tripped over a rock and ruined his chances of getting in. He paused for several moments and inspected the offending rock. It was smooth and about the size of his fist and speckled with darker spots. He picked it up and stowed it away for later use and continued his stealth march.

The closer he got the harder it was to remain unseen. When he judged the distance to be right he slowly eased the rock out of his pocket and held it in his hand, waiting for the right moment.

There! Both guards had looked away. Quickly and quietly as he could Illeandir threw the rock away from him so the men wouldn't see him as he raced toward the door. The rock whistled through the air so softly only an elf would have heard it and struck the ground with a thud and rolled, causing the grass to crackles and bend sharply. The older guard shouted and ran toward the noise. The young man, whom had nearly fallen asleep on his feet, relayed the shout and stabbed the air with the butt-end of his spear. He realized he held the weapon wrong and quickly changed it and rushed to aid his companion.

Illeandir grinned and ran to the doors, keeping low and just below their line of sight should they glance in his direction. He paused for a moment at the doors feeling incredibly small, so vast was the size of the doors. He didn't spare a second glance at them. He was not interested in the make and decoration, merely that they provided a way for him to get in. He stepped into a large courtyard and immediately realized he had made a huge mistake.

Shouts rang out and he found himself facing a prickly hedge of spears. He held his hands up and lowered his head. So much for that. He thought looking over top the the heads of about two dozen men. He stood more than a head taller than most of them.

"Lay your weapons down!"

Illeandir unsheathed his sword and laid it down with the hilt facing the spearmen. He laid his bow and quiver next to it. He stood up and held his hand up again, still with his head bowed.

"Remove you hood!"

Illeandir pulled his mask off and flicked his hood back.

"Search him!"

One of the spearmen stepped forward and handed his spear, reluctantly, to the man on his left. He searched Illeandir thoroughly, coming up with two long knives. He spent extra time searching his arms but couldn't find anything. Illeandir sighed and in the span of about five seconds removed four more shorter blades. He handed them over and reached down pulling a long curved knife he had hidden in his boot.