The Lastborn: A Middle Earth Story(Book 1)(EDITING)

Chapter 23: The Ambush

   Gerithor tried to forget the nightmare he had, and helped Caledorn wake the others up. After a short breakfast of waybread and dried meat they quickly set off again. The air was getting colder, and as they neared the Ettenmoors a light snow began to fall. The terrain almost abruptly changed into barren rock and dirt as they passed over into the gloomy region.
   They continued until they came to the road, where Caledorn stopped the group.
   "It is here we must part ways, Mellyn. I would stay with you for the rest of the journey but I have urgent business elsewhere that cannot wait."
   At this the companions were downcast. Gerithor stepped forward.
   "Galu, Na lû e-govaned vîn, Mellon," Gerithor said as he bowed.
   "Your elvish is worthy of an Elven lord Mellon," Caledorn said. Then they saw him doing something they had never seen him do before. He smiled.
   He turned away and disappeared into the shadows on the side of the road before anyone could say anything else.
"It's a pity he had to leave, I think he was just beginning to warm up to us," Sarina said dejectedly.
"Aye.... He's a good elf." Eldahir gazed in the direction Caledorn went. Gerithor seemed uneasy.
"Let's keep going, I don't like being in the open like this," He looked around and shuddered. He led his companions into some underbrush on the side of the road, and they travelled hidden as much as they could in the barren landscape. There were few trees, so they took cover behind jagged rocks and short, prickly shrubs.
   They were coming to a crossroads when they heard it. The telltale sounds of a fight, clashing steel and cries of pain. Gerithor and his companions looked at each other in surprise.
   "We should try and go around," Eldahir whispered.
   "What if it's a traveler in danger?" Sarina said quietly with concern in her eyes.
  Gerithor was slightly put off. Why did he always have to make the decisions? He sighed and thought for a moment. The distant sounds of the fight soon drove him to action. Without a word he crept toward the sounds, Eldahir and Sarina following.
   In the middle of the road was a cart pulled by a large ram. Next to it was a sturdy looking dwarf. He was swinging a powerful looking axe at three Orcs and shouting at them in Dwarvish. The Orcs were keeping a safe distance away, occasionally jabbing at the dwarf with their jagged swords.
Whizz! Suddenly one of the Orcs fell to the ground, a grey feathered arrow in its neck. The other two Orcs turned in shock as they saw Gerithor, Eldahir, and Sarina emerge from the brush. Gerithor had another arrow strung to his bow and was ready to fire. Eldahir and Sarina had their swords drawn and were approaching the Orcs. The two Orcs looked at each other in fear and began to run. An arrow passed through one's neck and the other fell to the ground as a dagger imbedded itself in the orc's back. Gerithor raised an eyebrow in surprise.
   "Have you been practicing?" He looked at Eldahir. Eldahir laughed as he pulled the knife from the orc.
   "A little here and there. It's easy, once you get the hang of it." He glanced over at Sarina and spun the knife in his hand before returning it to its sheath. She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin.
   The dwarf was looking at the three companions in confusion.
   "I don't know who ya are or where ya came from, but I'm right glad ya showed up!" The dwarf extended a hand to Gerithor. "I take it yer the leader of this merry band!"
Why does everyone think I'm the leader? Gerithor thought to himself. He took the dwarf's hand and shook it. "Aye, my name is Gerithor. And you are?"
   "My full name is Kalan. But my friends just call me Kalan," the dwarf said with a twinkle in his eyes. Gerithor raised an eyebrow. He heard Eldahir snicker behind him.
   "Well met Kalan. What brings you through the Ettenmoors?" Gerithor tried to stay serious.
   "I'm an assassin! I kill people fer money!" Kalan growled and ran a finger along the blade of his axe. Gerithor's mouth turned up slightly. This dwarf was quite a character.
    "And that's why you were having trouble dealing with a couple Orc bandits, right?" Gerithor smirked a little.
   "I had them sorted! You and yer lad and lass stole me kills!" Kalan narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to look tough. The result was more comical than intimidating.
   Gerithor nodded, deciding to humor the dwarf. "Well, we just happened upon you and assumed you needed help."
   Kalan laughed. "Yer way too gullible lad. I'm a trader! Just passing through here! Didn't want to go all the way around. That turned out to be a mistake!"
    Gerithor rolled his eyes. The dwarf was getting on his nerves. He turned and looked at Eldahir, who was covering his mouth and shaking with silent laughter. Sarina had her back to them but he could tell she was cracking up too. He narrowed his eyes.
   "Kalan, allow me to introduce my companions. Eldahir!" He walked over to Eldahir, who was desperately trying to look serious and was failing miserably. Gerithor grabbed him by the shoulder and practically dragged him to the dwarf.
   "This is Eldahir. Eldahir, this is Kalan." Eldahir recovered enough to bow slightly. The dwarf returned with an overly exaggerated bow.
"At yer service, and yer families service, and their families service, and your distant twice removed cousin's service!" At this Eldahir couldn't hold in his laugher anymore, and laughed right in Kalan's face.
"What's so funny lad?" The dwarf brandished his axe and moved his bearded face menacingly close to Eldahir's. Eldahir looked frightened for a second, and at this Kalan burst out into laughter and thumped him on the back.
"I'm kidding boy! I'm a softie once ya get ta know me!" The dwarf's eyes twinkled merrily and he turned to look at Sarina, who was laughing and had an eyebrow raised.
   "And why did ya save the prettiest fer last lad? What's yer name milady?" He spoke first to Gerithor, then Sarina. As he spoke he took her hand and kissed it.
   "I'm Sarina," she smiled kindly at the dwarf.
   "And why are ya travelin' with these scruffy vagabonds missie?" He looked with mock disdain at Gerithor and Eldahir. Gerithor looked down and realized he really did look like a vagabond. Thick mud was clumped on his boots, and the ends of his grey cloak were tattered and torn. He kind of smelled bad too, he thought with chagrin.
   Sarina looked at him and smirked, seeming to read his mind. "Despite their appearance, these men are of noble stock. And they're my friends," she smiled at both Gerithor and Eldahir.
   "So I told ya my business here, it's only fair for you to tell me yours!" Kalan grinned and looked at Gerithor. Gerithor shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to say.
   "We're just traveling north to visit friends!" Eldahir said, coming to Gerithor's rescue.
   "Friends, north of the Ettenmoors? Do yer friends happen to be trolls, or maybe wargs?" The dwarf looked skeptical, and leaned on his axe.
   "No, not at all!" Sarina joined in. "As a matter of fact they're-"
   Gerithor interrupted her. "We're going to kill the leader of Angmar." Eldahir and Sarina looked at him in shock. Gerithor figured one trader dwarf knowing wouldn't make any difference. He was wrong.
   "Now we didn't ya tell me in the first place lad?!" Kalan picked up his axe and hefted it experimentally in the air. "I'm comin with ya in that case! I've never had a good adventure, and that bastard has caused damage to my people as well!"
   Gerithor rolled his eyes. Why did everyone want to go with him? He tried to hide his annoyance.
   "Don't you have.... Stuff to trade?" He said weakly. Kalan laughed.
    "Ya ain't gettin rid of me that easily! Most of my goods were destroyed by those orcs! And this goat is nigh useless!" With that he cut the harness holding the goat with his axe. It just stood there and lazily looked at him.
   "See what I mean?" He pointed at it with his axe.
   "Give us a moment." Gerithor pulled Eldahir and Sarina aside. "What do you two think?"
   "I like him!" Sarina said enthusiastically.
   "I agree, he's a likable enough dwarf. But it's your call," Eldahir looked at his friend seriously.
   Gerithor sighed. He realized it probably wouldn't hurt to have an extra axe at his side. He walked back over to Kalan.
   "Welcome to our strange alliance," he offered a hand to the cheeky dwarf, which he shook vigorously.
    "Thank ya kindly lad! Now... Where are we going?"
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Gerithor had thought the dwarf would slow them down, but instead, much to Gerithor's surprise, the dwarf seemed to be making them quicken their pace. He energetically sprang over the landscape, and even Gerithor had a hard time keeping up to the spry dwarf. They made good time, only ran into a few wargs here and there who fled at their approach.
   But Gerithor was uneasy. The ring on his finger felt strangely heavy, and more and more he felt like he was being watched. Once he could swear someone was looking at him from behind, but when he whirled around he didn't see anything other than Eldahir and Sarina. Couldn't he feel at peace for just a moment? It's probably nothing. Sometimes he hated his upbringing. It always made him feel like he needed to watch his back... Like he was never safe.
Still, this threat felt more credible... And the ring. He wished now he hadn't accepted it, he knew it would only be trouble. But Caledorn had trusted him with it, so he would bear it.... However reluctantly.
He snapped out of his thoughts and sped up, trying to catch up with the dwarf. He soon was next to Kalan.
"So, where is your home?" Gerithor said between breaths.
"My home is everywhere! I travel between all the dwarf kingdoms. But if you're asking where I was born... I was born in the Iron Hills, away to the East." The dwarf hadn't even broke a sweat, and said the words effortlessly. "Where are you from?"
Gerithor shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm not really sure. I was born on a hunting trip. My mother said it was somewhere near Mithlond."
Kalan raised an eyebrow. "She gave birth to you on a hunting trip? What is she, a wolf?"
Gerithor rolled his eyes at the dwarves sarcasm. "No, she was a ranger."
Kalan glanced over at him. "Was? What happened?"
Gerithor took a deep breath. "She died."
Kalan looked at the young ranger with compassion, "I'm sorry lad. I lost my mother too."
The two shared a moment of reverent silence and continued onward, not speaking but already feeling a bond between them.

I actually published this on accident, but who cares? You get two chapters today!