Chapter Twenty Nine: Peeved and Headed for a Mishap
Capricious was what Mallor had become during our stay in Imladris, but ever my friend and caretaker would he be. When he learned of my and Erestor�s imprisonment in the gloomy basement-like room, he had become quite irate, and eventually managed to disturb a confession out of a certain Elladan son of Elrond. Apologies were made to both Erestor and me, but what sincerity they held, I cannot be entirely sure of.
Hereafter, however, when I expressed my burning desire to depart from the Elvish city, my words were finally heeded. Fearing that some other incident may cause me greater harm, Mallor saw to the arrangements for our journey. It took him several hours to determine where it was he wished to take me, but he eventually decided that Bree would not be a bad place for me, as it had been our original destination, after all. He said it was small and that, though there was a chance that the enemy could find me there, I would be safe. Which enemy that was precisely, I still have not a clue.
I then queried on whether there might be any other place we could go instead. He told me that the only other place that we could possibly try would be Ann�minas, which was not too terribly far in the north from Bree. I had no idea exactly where this Ann�minas was, until Mallor explained to me the history of this place. It had once served as the seat of the Kings of Arnor, northeast of Bree on the shores of the Lake Nenuial. He said it should be entirely abandoned by now, save for maybe some Men of the North and, well, some other things. I did not much care for the idea of going to an abandoned city of old, and I told him that I would just as soon go to the Witch King�s former lair at Carn D�m or the orc�s mountain of Gundabad.
With that decision finally made, I grabbed what earthly possessions I had and prepared Firefoot, whom had been my sole true companion during our stay, for the long journey eastward. Mallor had seen to our provisions and had sought what he deemed to be the very best traveling advice from Glorfindel. Three days after being released from my dark prison we left the Last Homely House and began making our way towards Bree.
The morning was cool enough that I could see my own breath hit the crisp air. The sunlight poured through the trees in glorious golden beams, reflecting through the mist that was the now evaporated morning dew. I must say that in all of my fondest memories of my home, I can hardly say I was ever witness to such a thing as beautiful as this morning. But then again, I do not recall ever making a note to myself to pay such great attention to nature�s wonders as I now did; I had nothing else to occupy my thoughts. I turned to Mallor with a smile on my face, one which faded swiftly at the sight of my companion in such a deep state of fierce and troubled contemplation.
�Mallor, what is it?� I asked, thinking that maybe he was a bit upset about having to leave Imladris. He had enjoyed our mightily extended stay there far more than I, after all.
�What?� he asked, jumping suddenly and then turning his head to look at me, finally coming out of his little daze. �Oh, nothing, I think. I am just going through another one of my irrational bouts of worry, is all it is.�
�Do you want to tell me about it?� I asked, trying to press a little more than vagueness out of him. He was silent for many moments; he seemed to be pondering the proper words to express himself.
�Aratan told me once to trust my intuition above all other things. He said that as mortals, we are but fragments of an ever-changing world, with our whole lives leading down a road to our own death, and then to an eternity that no man shall ever return to speak of. He told me that even in the greatest uncertainty a man of strong character shall stay strong and firm; his morals serving as an anchor through troubles. Through conscience and instinct, he said, do we have any chance of surviving,� Mallor said with a nostalgic softness.
�And what happens now, my friend, which recalls the memories of Aratan�s pleads for wariness?� I queried gently. Before he could answer me, I heard a great number of shouts from the trees and the sounds of running feet. Mallor drew his sword immediately and looked around him with a controlled form of franticness, if there even is such a thing.
Out of the trees that stood along the road came a group of roughly a score of frightening looking men with weapons drawn. I could only draw one conclusion, and that was that these men were bandits or murderers out to steal and slaughter innocent travelers. I began to doubt the bandit part of that when they went straight for Mallor as he sat atop his horse. I struggled for my glaive, which was in its customary place, strapped to Firefoot�s saddle. I was having a difficult time getting it loose, but as soon as I managed it I began to regret my success, for the men caught sight of my weapon and started rushing towards me.
�Get out of here!� cried Mallor, stabbing one of the men in the neck as he did so. I looked back and forth from the men to him and shook my head.
�Not without you!� I yelled, my hands beginning to shake as I saw another one of the bandits fall to Mallor�s blade. I tightened my grip on my weapon and tried to rationally consider my situation once more.
Masters of the glaive may have somehow found a way to use it on a horse, but as for me, I was at a complete loss. So, for lack of any better or more sensible an idea, I got off the horse and held it in the defensive position Mallor had taught me. That had been a long time ago, and I was out of practice and frightened. I did not want to have to kill one of these men; I feared taking another�s life. I turned nervously and looked to Mallor on his horse as he yelled with pain; he had been stabbed in the arm by one of the bandits. Enraged that they would harm my boon companion, I charged forward at the man in front of my and the blade plunged into his abdomen with the most grotesque of sounds.
I yanked the blade free of the man�s bleeding corpse and heard Mallor give a cry as he leapt from his horse and tackled a man who had been running at me. He rammed his blade into the man�s shoulder and I whacked another with the staff end of my glaive. There were a few bodies that were strewn upon the ground, but Mallor was angry, tired and bleeding, and I was pretty sure we were being surrounded. Mallor, I think, was beginning to realize the direness of our situation, and with another battle cry, he lunged forward at the enemy.
His blow never stuck home though, for he was run through by the bandit�s blade, until the very tip of it emerged from his back. His sword fell from his hands and he gasped in shock as the blade was driven deeper into his flesh. The tears welled in my eyes instantly and all rational thoughts left my mind as he fell to the ground. I gripped my glaive, shaking with my fury, and swung it at the approaching men. I think I slashed one across the chest, but I cannot be entirely certain, as it was at that moment that I felt the long knife slide between my ribs and feel the slashing as it ripped me open. I screamed a shrill and blood curdling scream as I collapsed to the dirt road below, now forgotten by my enemy as they took the horses.
Shivering, I watered the earth beneath me with my life-blood as everything turned to darkness.
