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

Chapter 27: An Unexpected Ally

Gerithor awoke feeling cold. He opened his eyes and realized a thin layer of snow had covered him, and snow was still slowly falling through the sky. He silently sat up and took in his surroundings. The deer was gone and it appeared to be dusk. He was surprised nobody from his party had come to look for him, but wasn't that worried about it. After all, they were tired and most likely fell asleep just after he left.
   Suddenly a noise came from the other side of the nearby pond. Gerithor dropped down to the ground and didn't make a sound.
   He could now hear soft footfalls coming closer. It was clear someone was trying to be stealthy.
   He stayed motionless and watched as he saw a dark cloaked figure appear at the far side of the pond. Covered by a hood, the figure's face was undistinguishable. He stooped down beside the pond and put his head down to drink, then stood and snuck closer. It was clear he still wasn't aware Gerithor was there, and he kept moving until he was within a few feet of the ranger.
   He was close enough now for Gerithor to see and recognize the sword at his side. It was a Black Numenorean blade. Without hesitation Gerithor drew his dagger. The man would find his companions if he let him live.
   He silently sprang at the man, whose back was facing him. The man turned around just in time to dodge the blade of Gerithor's dagger. Gerithor responded with lightning quick reflexes and tackled the man instead, not giving him a chance to draw his sword.
   Gerithor immediately pinned the man's arms to his sides and put a knife to his neck.
   "Lost?" He said in a voice that was quiet, yet deadly.
   "Who are you??" The man asked in a voice that sounded familiar to Gerithor. He couldn't put a face to it though and decided just to ask.
   "I'll ask the questions! Who are you?" Gerithor's grip tightened on the man.
"My name is Raldis. I'm a deserter from Angmar."
Gerithor's mind put it together. Raldis! The man him and Eldahir had let go at Fornost!
"Raldis eh? Then you'll recognize me too." Gerithor released his grip on the man and pushed him forward. Raldis turned to face him.
"You're the ranger from Fornost!" He said in relief. "Thank Eru it's you! I thought you were one of Arnakhor's." He brushed the snow from his cloak. "What are you doing this close to Angmar?"
"My business is my own," Gerithor said, still not fully trusting the Black Numenorean.
"If you're planning on going into Angmar, I could help you out." Raldis raised an eyebrow and looked at Gerithor. "I know Angmar like the back of my hand. I could be your guide."
"Why should I trust you?" Gerithor narrowed his eyes with suspicion.
"Why shouldn't you? I'm on the run from Angmar, they know what happened at Fornost. And they kill deserters." He said the last part solemnly.
Gerithor thought for a moment. It was true, they needed a guide. But what if he betrayed them? He realized that probably wouldn't be much worse anyhow, their chances of succeeding were slim. He decided it was worth the risk.
   "Alright, come on then. I'll take you back to camp." Gerithor said as he motioned for Raldis to follow him. They arrived at the camp a few minutes later. Kalan looked up in surprise and grabbed his axe when he saw Raldis.
   "Who's he? He looks like one of theirs to me," he said, looking the Black Numerorean over.
   "I thought you were alone," Raldis whispered to Gerithor nervously. Eldahir immediately stood and smiled.
   "Good to see you again... Raldis was it? What are the chances of meeting again?" He waved Raldis over to the fire. Sarina looked up from her meal, raising an eyebrow and looking a little confused.
   "Everyone, this is Raldis. Raldis, meet Kalan and Sarina." Eldahir pointed at each of them as he named them.
   "Well lad, if Eldahir likes you, I say well met." Kalan reached out a hand which Raldis cautiously shook. Sarina merely nodded at him, looking unsure.
   "I'm sure you're hungry!" Eldahir said as he handed Raldis a plate of steaming stew. Raldis thanked him and took it, shoveling it down like he was starving. Which in all reality he was.
   Gerithor watched in silence, then turned and walked a short ways into the trees. He needed to think.
   His contemplating was cut short by the sound of Sarina clearing her throat behind him. He didn't turn to face her.
   "You wanted to speak with me?" He said with a distant sounding voice.
   "Yes. I feel like I owe you an apology," Sarina said as she moved to Gerithor's side. He looked over at her.
   "You don't owe me anything Sarina."
   "Yes I do. I've been ignoring you and acting like a fool. What happened wasn't your fault. I've been acting like it was. So I apologize for that."
   Gerithor turned to face her, and put a hand on her arm.
   "You have nothing to apologize for. I gave you hope where there was none. It was my fault."
  Sarina's frowned. "It's not your fault! It's mine!"
   "It's in the past now. It doesn't really matter. What matters is staying a team right now, we're so close to our goal."
   Sarina looked hurt. "So we're just members of a team now? Is that it?"
   Gerithor frowned. Why does she have to make this difficult?
"Yes, if that's what works best." He said. It came out sounding colder than he meant for it to, and he immediately regretted it.
"Very well then, enough talk then. That's only for friends." With that she spun around and went back to the camp.
Gerithor covered his eyes with his hand. Why did everything he said always have to come out wrong? He had been trying to apologize to her, and instead he made it sound like he didn't even want to be her friend. He felt like screaming.
Instead he followed Sarina back to camp. Eldahir approached him with a bowl of soup.
"Here, have some. We've got plenty." He smiled and patted his friend on the back, then moved over and sat down by the fire. Gerithor sat alone on the far side of the camp.
He looked at the soup. In it was potatoes, some venison, some sort of green spice and a thick creamy broth. He was impressed. Definitely not Eldahir's cooking, he thought to himself and laughed softly. Must've been Kalan. He sipped some of it and smiled with satisfaction. He hadn't had food this good since Rivendell.
He savored the soup, eating it slowly until it was all gone. When he was finished, he glanced toward everyone else. They were all sitting by the fire laughing about some joke Eldahir had made, even Raldis. He seemed to fit in well. Better than myself at any rate, Gerithor thought as a slight pang of sadness went through him. He pushed it down. Fitting in wasn't what mattered, keeping his friends safe was. Then why did you let them come along? A voice in his mind said. Because I'm a fool.
He pushed the thoughts aside and strode over to the group.
"We must be off again soon," he said.
"Aye, right ya are lad." Kalan sprang up spryly. "Let's get a move on ya lazy bones!"
Raldis laughed lightly. "It's just like being in the army again." He took off his iron helmet and threw it into the forest, revealing long black hair. He grinned and looked at Gerithor.
"So do I take orders from you, or the dwarf?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Neither. We're all a team here, nobody's in charge." Gerithor's eyes twinkled. "But just to be safe do what the dwarf tells you, he's dangerous."
Kalan growled and jokingly licked the blade of his axe. "Aye, as dangerous as a Caragor in breeding season."
Gerithor laughed. "Let's get a move on, or else Kalan will have our hides!" With the the party set off again, one man stronger than before.
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The terrain slowly got more and more snow covered, and the trees became sparser until they were on a flat snowy plain, with no trees in sight. Rocks broke the monotony here and there, but it seemed like miles and miles of their journey were in flat tundra. By now Gerithor's boots were soaking through, and his toes were freezing. The snow was wet and made walking difficult. The wind was blowing harshly, and Gerithor had his hood up to block it. But that didn't stop the snow from blowing into his face. His nose and mouth were beginning to freeze, so he pulled his scarf up to cover his face. He looked behind at his companions. Raldis, who was the closest behind him, seemed to have no trouble traversing the snowy ground. Due to his short and stocky stature Kalan was struggling the most, for the snow was over a foot deep. Sarina was helping Eldahir, who was having trouble due to his injury.
Raldis ran to Gerithor's side.
"We're nearly to the Wall now, it's not much further. The land is beginning to look familiar." He smiled at Gerithor.
"Good, because it's looking less familiar to me. I've never been up this far north." Gerithor squinted ahead, and thought he could make out a dark line on the horizon. "Is that the Wall?" He pointed.
"Yes, I'm sure it is. I cannot see it from this far away though. You must have exceptionally keen vision."
"Many of my people do," Gerithor said.
"So I've heard." Raldis ran ahead a little ways.
"Yes, that's the Wall. We'll be there in an hour or two." With that he returned to his place in line, and the group continued on.
A short while later, Gerithor was scouting a short distance ahead when he heard a faint howl. He tensed and listened again. He heard another howl several seconds later.
He quickly ran back to the group.
"There are wargs hunting out there. We must be cautious," he said quietly. Eldahir pulled him aside.
"This isn't good Gerithor. They'll find our trail and track us down."
"No they won't." They both turned to see Raldis standing there.
"I'm used to snow. We'll use a branch, or a sword since it will be hard to find a branch, and brush our tracks away. It wouldn't look convincing to humans, but wargs use their sense of smell more and that will confuse them."
"Good plan!" Eldahir laughed and clapped the young soldier on the back. Raldis smiled and drew his sword.
"I'll run at the back and brush the tracks away." He turned and went to the back of the group.
"It was wise to bring him along," Eldahir said and winked at Gerithor. Gerithor nodded. He was glad he chose to, the young Black Numenorean was turning out to be invaluable.
Gerithor signaled the group into motion, and they set off again. But the sound of wargs howling grew closer and closer.