The Night's Wanderer

Chapter 16 ✪ A New Old Friend

The two elves basked in the company of one another as they took the first two watching shifts. 

Legolas was delighted that Morrandir had accepted the offer of friendship. His smile stayed on his face the rest of the night, and it was so wide his cheeks soon started to ache.  

When the end of the second watch came around, both of them ventured over to where all their beds lay, Legolas waking up Gimli to go on the next watch. 

This meant silence for them both as they got a short sleep, Gimli's snores being rather loud, and that was without elven ears. 

The next morning they all awoke to Aragorn nudging them with the butt of his sword. The sun was just coming over the horizon and the sky was painted with reds and oranges. 

A bad omen in some cultures. 

"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilt this night." Legolas spoke up while setting his gaze upwards. They had been running for only a small while by this point and he made the statement with Morrandir in mind. 

"It may not be the blood of our hobbits that has been spilt." Morrandir quipped, giving Legolas a glance which showed he knew something they did not.

Along with that look came a faint rumbling, the thunder of hundreds of horse hooves as a large group of Horse-Men galloped along towards them. 

Aragorn had stopped with a boulder of larger proportions to his left. He silently urged the others to hide behind it, he was wary of those that were drawing close. He didn't know they were Rohan Horse-Men like Morrandir did. 

Morrandir stood closest to the rock with Legolas beside him, waiting for the group to pass. And as soon as they did, Aragorn stepped out from where they hid, speaking loudly for the riders to hear.

"Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?" He yelled.

Morrandir moved to stand by Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli joining soon after as the horse riders circled back to them. 

The thunder of horse hooves drew close and fast as the riders made a tight circle around the miss match four, leaving no space for escape. The four kept their backs to one another, the need for defensive tactics quickly hitting them making them draw weapons. 

Well, Morrandir didn't. He kept his swords on his waist.

As soon as the spears and swords fell to those trapped in the centre, Morrandir realised this was much more hostile than any of his other meetings with the Riders of Rohan. His hand soon found its way to his sword, purely a precaution. 

"What business does an elf, a man, a dwarf, and the Night Wanderer have in the Riddermark?" The leader of the Horse-Men questioned. "Speak quickly!" 

It was not the voice Morrandir knew of the last leader so he stayed silent. But it must have been someone he knew, for they knew him in this form, so it was someone from the last fifty years, probably much less as his trips to Rohan started thirty years ago and ended sixteen years after. 

Gimli spoke up next, it was not who Morrandir thought would talk. 

"Give me your name, Horsemaster, and I shall give you mine." He proposed. 

Morrandir gave an eye roll. It would not be that simple. 

And evidently, it was not. 

The Horsemaster dismounted his steed and prowled over to Gimli, trying to be threatening to the hard-headed dwarf. 

"I would cut off your head, dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

Both elves reacted with light-like speed. Legolas drew an arrow from his quiver and set his bow on the horse leader while Morrandir drew both his swords, having them pointed to the ground at his side, ready to fight.