Illeandir stood up and walked to the shattered window. His bare feet made no noise against the floorboards. Outside torches lit up the darkening street. Men dressed in ragged clothes terrorized the townspeople, running past the houses with their flaming branches dangerously close to the thatched roofs.

A group of men stood in a tight circle around a white figure. Illeandir muttered a curse and turned away from the window. He snatched his cloak from floor and tugged his boots on.

"Wha's wrong?" Thrilo asked. Illeandir jerked his head toward the window.

"Bloody bandits have Ithilwen and are threatening to burn the village down."

"Why?"

"Same reason they always do. Money," Illeandir fumed. Thrilo's mouth made a small "o" of understanding. He stood and followed Illeandir out the door, hefting his axe onto his shoulder.

They found Derik cowering at the counter.

"Where's your sword?" Illeandir barked. Derik flinched.

"I-I sold it to pay my debts."

Illeandir unclipped his from his belt and tossed it to the trembling man.

"You were a soldier. A good one too. Use that."

Derik studied the sword. Recognition lit his eyes.

"You're that mercenary that stole the go-"

"Yes, I was. Now shut up and help me. Bandits are cowards. They won't fight a trained swordsman or anyone who knows his way around a weapon. Twenty of them are out there now, ready to burn the village down. They have Ithilwen and want ransom money. If they don't get that they're liable to burn this town to the ground and kill Ithilwen. I'd prefer if neither of those happened. Are you with me?" Illeandir practically shouted. Derik nodded. His hand gripped the sword firmly and held it up.

"This is a fine sword. Elvish make."

Illeandir nodded, "That it is."

"Wha's the plan?" Thrilo asked.

"We take their own and demand they leave and give Ithilwen back. Don't let them see you and steer clear of the group to the north. They're the ones holding her."

"That's it?" Derik said dubiously. He scratched his chin.

"Well, I don't exactly have an army do I?" Illeandir said. When Derik refused to meet his piercing gaze he continued on. "Once you have a man, bring him back here. Tie him up and make sure he can't get away. Once that's done we'll go talk with the gentlemen down the street. Clear?"

Affirmative nods met his last statement. Illeandir opened the inn door. A bandit was running past and, with the speed and accuracy of a snake, Illeandir reached out and grabbed him by the arm. He dragged the bandit in and threw him over his head into a table. Thrilo leapt into the man and clobbered his head. The man barely had time to make a sound before he was out.

Illeandir tied his hands behind his back and shoved him to the floor.

"One down, two to go."

Illeandir grinned savagely.

"Derik, follow me. Thrilo," the dwarf snapped to attention, mocking Illeandir, "try not to get killed."

"Yessir!" Thrilo marched out of the inn. Shouting soon followed.

"Oi! Ya maggoty scum! Git ova 'ere! I go' an axe wi' yer name on it! Where ya goin'? I ain't done! Ya took my lady friend!" His voice blended with the din and they could hear him no more. Illeandir sighed and shook his head.

"Subtlety is not his strong suit."

"You're not mercenaries are you?" Derik asked.

"Really? What gave it away?" Illeandir exaggerated.

Derik gestured widely.

"Mercenaries don't care about their employers. They only care about the money and if there employer is say, captured by bandits, so be it. They move on."

"Well," Illeandir twirled his knives next to his face, "perhaps this mercenary cares about his pay." He bared his teeth in a mock smile. "Care to join me?"

"It's been too long since I held one of these in my hands. Let's give these bastards a beating," Derik growled. The excitement in his voice gave away his grim face.

Illeandir and Derik ran out the door, Derik shouting a war cry to wake the dead, Illeandir as silent as the graves they slept in. Illeandir immediately went up, latching onto the top of the doorframe and pulling himself up into a low hanging window. He scanned the village from his vantage point while Derik stood guard below.

Illeandir spied two men harassing a young woman and her husband, who was leaning heavily against her with a heavy wound to the leg. Illeandir jumped to the ground, light as a cat, and pointed to them. Derik scowled.

"Agreth and her husband Hagril."

"Flank them from the south. I'll go in from the north."

"A'right," Derik breathed. A crew of bandits raced by, heading toward the center of the village where most of their company waited. They ignored the two figures in front of the inn. Illeandir watched them pass with slitted eyes.

"Let's go," he said. Derik headed south, using the buildings to hide his approach. Illeandir went north, covering the open ground between houses in seconds. He quickly reached Agreth and Hagril. Hagril was fading fast, his face was pale and his eyes were closing. Agreth was becoming more and more frantic as the men tried to pry her away from her husband. She screamed and hit them. Her blows were hard enough to bruise but did nothing to dissuade the bandits.

Illeandir saw Derik slip in behind them. Illeandir rose to his full height and strode toward them with long, dooming strides. His face was a storm of barely contained fury.

"Leave them alone."

His voice was icy cold, low, and dangerous. Derik shivered, suddenly glad he was not on the receiving end of Illeandir's rage.

The bandits scrambled back, then made as if to fight this sudden adversary. They took one look at the huge figure coming at them, silent and menacing, with knives in hand and a bow, taller than either of them, strapped to his back. Their eyes widened and their blood ran cold. They turned and ran.

Straight into Derik's hulking form.

Derik bared his teeth in a hideous grin and flashed his sword. One of the bandits yelped in surprise.

A short, messy skirmish later the bandits were on their knees with their hands in the air, weaponless. Derik panted heavily, but he felt alive again for the first time since he'd laid down his sword. The men at his feet quivered and refused to look up.

Illeandir knelt down next to Agreth and Hagril.

"Help him," Agreth begged. Her hands and dress were bloody. She looked up at Illeandir, desperation etched across her face. Hagril groaned in pain.

"Tie their hands," Illeandir told Derik, who nodded. "We need to stop the blood flow," he said to Agreth. Agreth, with shaking hands, tore a strip of her dress off. Illeandir took it and tied it above the gaping wound in Hagril's thigh.

"Keep him calm," Illeandir ordered when the man struggled.

"Hagril, love," Agreth crooned, "look at me."

Hagril looked at her. She smiled and stroked his cheek.

"Everything will be all right, love. Don't worry. I'm here. You're going to be all right."

Illeandir cinched the cloth tight around Hagril's leg causing the man to cry out. Agreth hushed him gently.

"We need to get him somewhere safe to close the wound," Illeandir said.

"Elstan," Derik called softly.

"What?" Illeandir asked. He stood up and joined Derik next to the bandits. Derik pointed to a large group of men congregated in the center of the village.

"They've pulled back into one group."

"What for?" Illeandir asked himself. He had an idea, but it still made no sense.

"I don't rightly know. My guess would be they're wai'ing for somethin' or someone. Their leader perhaps."

"No, their leader is already there. We need to get back to the inn. Thrilo will be waiting. Gag those two and take them back. Make sure no one sees you. I'll join you shortly."

Derik nodded and gagged the captives. He forced the to their feet and shoved them between the walls of two houses, out of sight of their comrades. They had barely disappeared behind a house when Illeandir knelt next to the couple on the ground.

"Hagril," he placed a hand on the injured man's arm, "we need to move away from here before they return. I can't carry you and neither can your wife so you will have to walk. Can you do that?"

Hagril nodded tersly.

"Good man," Illeandir encouraged. He helped Agreth haul her husband to his feet. Hagril gasped when he put weight on his leg. Illeandir grimaced, he knew exactly what Hagril felt. Agreth propped him up over her shoulder and the trio slowly made their way back to inn. Illeandir was always ten paces ahead of them with his knives held loose but ready in his palms.

The village was eerily silent. Too silent. Even the ruckus made by the attackers could not be heard. The wind whistled softly.

A slight scraping noise made Illeandir pause. He held up his hand to stop Agreth and Hagril and tilted his head.

Again he heard it. Fabric brushing over wood.

Illeandir stood still and silent as the statues in the king's hall in Minas Tirith, listening to the silence.

Again. From the left.

Illeandir slowly placed one foot in front of the other. Creeping forward toward the sound.

An explosion of feathers and squawking sent him flying backward. He shouted and Agreth screamed. A rock turned under Illeandir's foot and he crashed to the ground, jarring his shoulder.

The chickens waddled away, clucking smugly.

"Ed' i'ear ar' elenea!" Illeandir exclaimed as he lay on his back breathing heavily. "Vile creatures." His heart pounded loudly and he felt the blood return to his face hot and red. Agreth clutched her husband. Both were pale and shaky.

Illeandir took a deep breath to steady himself before standing up again. No sooner had he regained his feet than something large and heavy slammed into him. He flew over the ground and crashed into a stack of crates. Several broke open and sent their contents flying, entangling Illeandir in cloth, sacks of wool, and assorted foods.

His attacker ran at him, waving a sword wildly over his head.

"Run!" Illeandir shouted. Agreth and Hagril hobbled as fast as they could toward the inn. Illeandir kicked his legs free of a sheet just as the assailant brought his sword down. Illeandir rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding having his back spilt open. He kicked the man's knee.

The man screamed and went down. Illeandir scrambled for his dagger that had fallen from his grasp. His fingers just brushed it when pain exploded in the back of his head. He cried out and instinctively curled into a ball. His vision blurred and the ground swayed. He groped blindly for his dagger and latched on to it when he found it.

His attacker jumped on top of him, knocking the dagger away, and brought his sword down. Illeandir grabbed his wrists and stopped the sword just inches from his eye. The man grunted in surprise.

He pushed down harder and harder. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His sword descended closer and closer. Illeandir shook with the effort to keep it from plunging into his eye. Closer and closer it came until the tip blurred out of focus. Illeandir growled deep in his throat. The man's downward force lessened just enough for Illeandir to push the sword a little further away and move his hand until it wrapped around the bandit's wrist.

He squeezed his wrist as hard as he could. The man grunted in pain and out all his weight on his sword. Harder and harder Illeandir crushed his wrist until all at once it gave way and crumpled.

The man screamed and flung himself off Illeandir, clutching his shattered wrist. His sword lay next to him, forgotten. Illeandir grabbed his dagger and pulled the man up, holding the blade at his neck.

"Who are you and why are you here?" he demanded. The man spat in his face. Illeandir clotted his ear and he howled.

"Why are you here?"

The man glared at him. Blood was smeared across his face; blood mixed with black paint. Odd symbols covered his face and what skin could be seen. A circle with three lines intersecting at the center was painted on his forehead.

"Lord Edros commands it, Spawn of the Dark Lord."

"Where is Lord Edros now?"

"Coming."

The man grabbed Illeandir's hand and thrust himself upon the blade. Illeandir cursed and pushed him away, but it was too late.

Illeandir hung his head and closed his eyes.

"Nara, you're in for a world of trouble," he whispered. "I promise I will return as soon as I find Zaharias and help you put this mad prince to rest before he destroys Gondor."

He left the body where it lay and followed Agreth and Hagril's path to the inn.

******************************

I spilled some cinnamon and now that's all I can smell...

The end is in sight!

Actually it's a long way off but I do know exactly what to do to get there because it's already written! Hahaha haha! And you have to wait! Hahaha haha!

Bye!