Chapter 16: Into the Valley of Death

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After the funeral pyre had gone out, and the death screams had stopped, the Companions gathered their gear and continued deeper into the mountains.  None spoke for long hours as they tried to push the memory out of their minds.  They simply climbed with their own thoughts.

Following e'Narmire's lead, all could sense they were closing in on the Death-shadow.  For days, they followed an invisible trail, going ever deeper into the mountains, northward toward Ladros and the realm of Angrod and Aegnor, sons of Finarfin.  They knew they would have to find their quarry soon, or it would no longer have a place to hide.

Curucam followed his own prey.  He could smell a Hunter.  A cold wind brought the foul beast's odor out of the north, and Curucam craved for another confrontation.  Taurensil also followed the beast's trail, estimating that it was only a couple of days ahead.  But then, Curucam sensed a dangerous change.

"It has double-backed," he snarled.  "I can smell the vile thing and it is close; a lot closer than yesterday."  He thumbed the blade of his axe, drawing a trickle of blood.  "Nice and sharp," he said softly to himself.  "Come and play," he growled.

Taking heed of the Dwarf's warning, everyone stayed alert to ambush, quickening their pace to close with the demon.  Much to their surprise, e'Narmire kept the Companions in the center of a shallow valley, forfeiting the high ground to any potential attacker, and a decision that did not make Taurensil entirely comfortable.

Everyone knew they were being watched.  Occasional loose rock sliding down the mountainside gave obvious hints to the presence of enemy warriors.

"Orcs," said Telemire.

Taurensil agreed, adding, "And they are surrounding us."  He pointed to the other side of the valley where Telemire could see faint shadows darting from boulder to boulder ahead of them.  "They are waiting to spring their trap," whispered the ranger.

"That is what I want them to do."  Neither had noticed e'Narmire listening to their conversation.  "It is the only way to draw the demon into the open.  They must think they have the advantage."

"They do," retorted Taurensil wryly.

Then the ambush came.  A volley of arrows showered down on the Companions from both sides of the valley, forcing them to seek whatever cover they could find.  No sooner had the last arrow skittered across the rocks, more than a dozen orcs were among them, screaming their terrible war-cry.

The initial charge took the Companions by surprise and they could do nothing but defend themselves from the orcs' wild slashing attacks.  The ringing of steel on steel reverberated up and down the valley, echoing off of the rocky slopes.  Archers continued to pelt the Companions with their deadly darts.  Two grazed Taurensil's shoulder, failing to find their marks only because of his violent twisting and turning to avoid sword blows.  One found Curucam in the thigh after ricocheting off of a large rock, its energy mostly spent.

But the tide soon turned in their favor.  For all of their ferocity and cunning, the orcs were highly disorganized in their attacks, an advantage the Companions were quick to capitalize on. 

Taurensil parried the attacks of a pair of orcs, allowing them to tire out from their exertions, before ending their miserable existence with a series of short, quick, and deadly sword cuts.  Spying one of the archers above him, he made a straight line for it, only to be stopped long enough to dodge and cut down another of his attackers. 

Charging the archer in a fury, the orc tried to parry with its bow, only to see it cloven before the ranger's sword bit deep across its chest and stomach, spilling black entrails on the rocks.

Escaping the initial volley, e'Narmire had rushed to the back of their tiny column, cutting his way to Shaelina, who was surrounded by four of the attackers.  She had miraculously escaped any injury, darting around rocks and parrying any weapon that came near her.  She efficiently killed two of them with short-sword and dagger, but was quickly tiring, and in danger of being overrun, before e'Narmire finished off the last two, catching them by surprise from behind.

Shadow-bane then charged up the same slope as Taurensil, now at the opposite end of the valley.  Cutting his way to the top, e'Narmire gave a quick thrust into the heart of one orc then ducked under a second's attack before cutting him down with a heavy blow across the back of its head.  Seeing Taurensil, e'Narmire began working his way to the ranger, and between them, they cleared that slope of the remaining three archers.  Looking across the valley, they saw that those archers had joined in the melee below.

The arrow in Curucam's thigh did not slow him down, but only angered him.  Employing his favorite tactic of using his massive girth, the Dwarf threw himself into the nearest orc, landing hard on the creature's neck and breaking it.  Picking himself up, he made his way through the rock-strewn valley, his short stature making him a hard target to hit as he bound into and out of cover.

A war-cry from behind caught his attention.  Spinning on his heels, he saw a spear-armed orc charging at him.  Ducking behind a boulder as the orc went for a killing blow, Curucam circled around, catching the enemy in the spine with his axe. 

Seeing another flanking Telemire, he charged.  But the orc saw him coming and prepared his spear to receive the attack.  Batting the weapon aside, Curucam was forced to through his shoulder into the orc, sending both sprawling across the ground.  Scrabbling to his feet, Curucam picked up a large rock and smashed it into the orc's face.  Picking up his axe, the Dwarf sought out his next target.

Telemire again fought as if he was possessed.  He seemed to be blessed with endless amounts of luck, as neither blade nor bow could find him.  He nodded in appreciation to Curucam, but the Dwarf noticed several orc bodies at the smith's feet and felt that Telemire was not in need of assistance.

But then a black dart streaked past and struck the Noldor smith in the back, and Telemire fell to the ground and was still.  Shaelina rushed to him.

Checking his wound, she was relieved.  The wound itself was not grave, but the dart had been poisoned, paralyzing Telemire.  She dragged him to safety behind a boulder, where she bandaged his wound as best as she could.

Another such dart came forth from the shadows, glancing off the boulder.  The ranger looked over to e'Narmire.  The Vanyar's blade was glowing a brilliant blue; Shadow-cleaver was warning its master.

"They're here," said e'Narmire half smiling.

As if from nowhere, a Hunter appeared behind Taurensil.  The ranger managed to avoid the brunt of the Hunter's massive attack, but was still sent rolling down the slope.  Curucam, axe in one hand and mattock in the other, charged the beast.  He had a score to settle.  Hurling his mattock at the beast, he rushed in swinging his axe.

Stunned by the sudden impact of the mattock, Curucam was able to get in close before the Hunter could react.  Taurensil, regaining his feet, used Curucam's distraction and also charged in.  The ranger and the Dwarf relentlessly hacked at the Hunter, not giving it a chance to defend itself.  Dodging the beast's desperate attacks, they took it apart piece by piece; a clawed finger, a massive hand.  They carved out great chunks of flesh.  The beast howled and writhed in agony as the two warriors brought it to the ground, finishing it off in its death throws with a sword thrust to the heart and an axe blow to the head.

Then Taurensil went down with one of the dark javelins in his shoulder, but was unaffected by the poison. 

Enraged, e'Narmire cried out a challenge to the unseen demon.  "Show yourself, assassin!  Reveal yourself! Quit hiding behind your cowardice!  Win renown for yourself!  Come and slay the Eldar your master truly fears!  Come and slay the Shadow-bane!"

For whatever reason, be it vanity or a chance to win honor, the dindair showed itself to e'Narmire.  As suddenly as the dindair appeared, a pair of trolls also showed themselves, one to each side of Shadow-bane, roaring and smashing their way toward him.

Curucam shouted a warning as he rushed toward the troll nearest him.  But e'Narmire stood his ground, unflinching and immobile.

As the trolls were about to strike, they disappeared into a mist, the spell broken.

"Your cheap tricks will not work with me, Slave," e'Narmire said coolly.  "You must face me yourself."  He paused.  "Unless you truly are the coward that I know you to be."

The dindair blindly charged e'Narmire, casting another shadow-javelin.  The dindair's aim was wild and his javelin sailed over e'Narmire's head.  The Vanyar stood like a statue, waiting for the right time to strike.  The demon came on, howling as it did so.  Then, in a one swift and smooth motion that was almost too quick to see, e'Narmire side-stepped the dindair, cutting across its body, then reversing his blade and cutting down along the length of the demon's back.

As the dindair arched back in pain, e'Narmire drove Shadow-cleaver deep into the demon's back.  In its death-scream, the dindair fell to the ground and vanished into a dissipating black mist.

Thinking the fight over, the Companions began to relax.  Shaelina stepped out from her hiding place, where she had been tending to Telemire's wounds, and called for their help.  As they made their way across the valley to her, another shrill scream filled their ears.  They could not withstand such a terrible sound.  All dropped to their knees, covering their ears as best as they could as an unseen shadow flew overhead.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over.  Stunned and shaken, the Companions began to regain their composure.  The continuing ringing in their ears left them unable to hear for several seconds.  When they finally were able, the first sound was Shaelina's frantic shouting.

"He's gone!  He's gone!  Telemire is gone!"

Taurensil, standing next to e'Narmire, heard the Vanyar mutter under his breath, clearly hearing only one word.

"Daengurtha."