The Secret of Frywald by Ysilme

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Two

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Two

When dusk fell on the next evening, Glorfindel’s and Thranduil’s groups met again at the base camp. They had been closer than expected to the forest edge and been able to set up camp already in the early morning. This time, Glorfindel learned about the real worth of the spider silk ropes and tarps: the camp was to be up in the trees for concealment, but constructing proper flets from wood would have cost at least half a day. Instead, the elastic ropes and tarps were used to weave and knit together living and deadwood branches, creating flexible, swinging, but surprisingly sturdy télain. They had again chosen a conifer copse, and although it took some getting used to to moving around on the elastic structures, they were much better concealed from below than Glorfindel would have thought possible for such a temporary dwelling.

“Anything happened here?” Thranduil asked as he climbed up onto the largest talan.

Callon, who had stayed behind as a guard, shook his head. “No. I went up twice into a tall beech on the forest edge for a lookout, but everything has been quiet.”

“Good. I do not suppose Arveldir has been back or sent word?” Thranduil accepted a flask from Glorfindel who carefully made his way over from their stored packs.

“No, nothing so far.”

“Let us have supper, then, and take a short rest. We will use the cover of the night to follow him later on.”

Callon had used the occasion to do some foraging, and was now handing out a light supper of fresh berries and greens, small pieces of dried nut-bread, and cold meat of the hares they had roasted on the evening before. Balancing the bowl with his share, Glorfindel got down by the tree trunk and leaned against it with a grateful sigh.

“You Noldor need to spend more time up in the trees,” Thranduil teased. “All that stone and metal has made you far too heavy-footed.”

Glorfindel grinned. “And pompous, you wanted to say?”

“I would never say that!”

Now Glorfindel laughed outright. “Not aloud, at least. But in all honesty, I could not disagree; I believe far too many Noldor do care too much about their comfort and their dignity.”

This made Thranduil chuckle, and Glorfindel noticed how the expression of the usually aloof Sinda softened.
A flask of wine was handed around, and then most warriors settled down to rest or nap, while Callon and Bregedaer went to bring the horses to a clearing deeper in the forest. They would be proceeding on foot from here, and it was better to keep their mounts hidden. A call would be sufficient to bring them quickly to their side.

“So, what do we have?” Glorfindel folded his cloak into a square, laid it between them, and put a few pine-cones on top. A handful of twigs created a rough image of the forest edge, the village, and the small river passing the village on the south. 

“A nice, tall, wall, effectively keeping anything happening in the village inside,” Thranduil grumbled. “Unusually high for a small village in such a remote place, but everything you could wish for as a defence. There is a small gate on the northern side and a large one in the north-east, doubtlessly the main gate as a road leads off eastwards.”
He placed two pine-cones to mark the gates. “A small creek coming from the forest enters the village half-way between both gates, passing under the wall through a small opening.” Another twig.
“There was not enough cover to get sufficiently close for details about the guarding of the gates and possible access through there. We also could not get beyond the main gate, for there was too much activity on the road, but the gates stood open. There must be some change of terrain beyond the village there, for we saw the crowns of trees on the far side, but growing on a lower level; there must be a steep drop in the ground. I dimly remember that the river has cut deep into the terrain in these parts.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Yes, there is an escarpment that drops about thirteen feet where we descended, but increasing towards the east. The village is built along its upper edge. The river runs at a distance between eighty and a hundred feet from the cliff, enclosing orchards and gardens.” He added more twigs in demonstration.

“Any openings in the wall on that side?”

“Difficult to say, as we could not get close. There is a low wall between the river and the cultivated part, but only to keep in any animals, I think. We tried to get closer, but the villagers keep their geese and pigs in the orchards, which serve well as guards against any intruder. A gander took a particular disliking to Hatholdir and made such a racket we feared we would be discovered.”

Thranduil chuckled. “Poor Hatholdir, and he loves birds so much!”

Glorfindel grinned. “Anyway, we could make out perhaps four or five small gates or rather doors at the top of clefts of the cliff. Some had steep stairs, some even ladders. They doubtlessly will have doors or at least lattices, but as nothing on four legs could get up there, and only one person at a time, I do not expect them to be guarded, perhaps not even locked.”

“Interesting, although we would not know that before we tried. What else did you find?”

“No openings in the west wall, except for a few small ones high up, likely for lookout purposes. The drop can be navigated with ease at some distance to the village, where it consists of various slopes and clefts. The river is wide and shallow at first but changes into rapids about halfway along the village, where the terrain also slopes down towards the west and changes first into pasturage and then into a small wood. We could not continue there also for lack of cover, but could make out horses and a few simple buildings against the cliff. The village curves back inwards there, too, and the wood has some rather tall trees. I suppose this is what you have also seen.”

Thranduil studied their assorted twigs and pushed them around until the village had a five-sided shape, mostly rectangular with a point to the eastern side. He placed another pine-cone to indicate the wood. “Like this?”

Glorfindel pondered Thranduil’s suggestion, moved two twigs around and then back. “Yes, I think so. Here is the area with the orchards and the small gates,” he pointed at the straight part of the southern wall, “and here the wall turns back. The wood mostly hides the cliff on this side,” he said, pushing the pine-cone half an inch away. “It is difficult to tell, but the cliff seems to be crumbling down there, around a wild little creek, likely the one you saw going in. It joins the the river a bit further down eastwards.”

“Have you been able to get closer to the wood there?”

“No. There was no cover between the river and the wood, just open meadow, and although we only saw a handful of people we could not tell if we would be observed from within these stables or buildings, or from the wood.”

“So we do have an inaccessible western and mostly inaccessible northern wall, possible but difficult access from the south, and an uncounted for situation in the east, with a drop in terrain, a cliff, river rapids, and a concealing wood.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun,” Glorfindel remarked dryly, eliciting a chuckle from Thranduil.

“I would suggest the following,” the Wood-elf king said. “We will split again much like before, but I will only take Bregedaer and Norphen. We will proceed to the northern wall to where the small creek enters. An Elf might pass through there if there is no grid. If it is not possible, we will proceed onward and see if we find another way in, or, if not, turn around and join you again in the south. You will go around the south and investigate the garden gates; at this time of the night, the animals should pose no problem, at least not for Elves.”

Glorfindel nodded approvingly.

“You will also send two or three men ahead to investigate the pasturage and the wood. None of you will enter already, though, but wait until two candle-marks has passed from when we separate. If we have not joined you by then, you will enter wherever possible. Any of us who has managed to get inside the village will stay well hidden, keeping in contact by the usual bird-calls. What do you say?”

“Sounds like the best possible option, although I am not happy about you, or anybody other, entering the village through a creek.”

“Afraid we will not manage?” Thranduil was teasing again.

“Only that your royal highness will be the worse for it,” Glorfindel dead-panned.

“My ‘royal highness’ is not dulled by a little water,” Thranduil remarked, but could not hide the laughter in his eyes.

Glorfindel was delighted by the humour and the warmth the other displayed over and over again. This was so different from how he had known Thranduil back in Beleriand, and from everything he had heard about him since then. When this is over, I would not mind getting to know him better, he thought.

Aloud, he said. “Then let us rest until it is time to leave.”

Thranduil agreed, and both settled down, finding a comfortable spot to stretch out. Thranduil seemed restless, though, shifting around repeatedly.

“Are you worrying about Arveldir?” Glorfindel asked softly.

“I had hoped to hear from him before we set out out again, but in all likelihood he has not found any opportunity.”

“Indeed not. If they did not encounter any problems, they will most likely have settled down at some inn, as any traveller would do. But depending on what is going on there, any newcomer would be under close surveillance. And as inaccessible the village is, it is doubtlessly equally difficult for somebody to get out unnoticed.”

“Hmhm.”

“Something is off, though, do you not think so?”

“Yes, I have the same feeling,” Thranduil said. “Everything seems to be as it should, quiet, calm, and peaceful, just a village in a remote area going about its daily business. But it is just too quiet and peaceful to feel natural. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes.”

“I do not understand it.” Thranduil sat up again, giving up the pretence of rest. He was radiating tense unease, all traces of the previous lightness gone.
“Nothing makes sense, you know.”

It took Glorfindel a moment to follow Thranduil’s sudden change of mood, but the other continued before he could say something.

“Why should something be happening here, of all places? There is barely a more remote corner of Rhovanion than the East Bight. A couple of Men’s villages, one or two Avari settlements not too far into the forest. No larger roads, no trading route, no particular resources anybody might covet, and to my knowledge, Frywald is as average a village as they come. The only peculiarity I can perceive is a larger than usual distance between these villages and other settlements of Men - I think it is at least three day’s rides in either direction.”

Glorfindel grunted in response.

“The most logical explanation would indeed be a living dragon, although what such a one would look for here also baffles me. To leave aside the fact that I do not see where they would hide such a huge beast. I think we have been close enough to have seen anything on the outside, and the main gate is not large enough to accommodate for it anyway.”

“A living dragon could always have entered by way of flying, although I wonder where it would have found a place to rest within the walls. Still, while this is possible, I agree with your reasoning about the probability.” Glorfindel sat up again as well.

“What then? Some sinister machination comes to mind, but why? For what purpose?”

Glorfindel pondered this. “Do you think this could be related in any way to the war?”

“That long afterwards?” Thranduil frowned. “Maybe. But then again, why here? If this were true, it must surely affect the Elven realms, as the Men came here only after the war. But the East Bight is the least plausible place of anything going on concerning any of the Elven peoples.”

“There is that.”

At this moment, Bregedaer’s head appeared over the edge of the talan. He drew himself up and settled at Glorfindel’s side. “Could this be aimed at the forest?” he asked.

Surprised, Thranduil turned to him. “The forest?”

“Yes. The exact location of your settlement is not known to outsiders, or difficult to place due to the nature of the forest. At best they would know that your people dwells in a central part of it, somewhat to the north of here. They might also know, or assume, that your people’s dwellings are spread over a large area. Attacking you directly would be impossible, or very difficult, so anybody meaning harm might aim at attacking the forest instead, either to to damage your means of living, or to hurt you personally though the trees.”

Surprised, Glorfindel noticed how Thranduil’s previously open and relaxed manner changed. Suddenly, he seemed every bit aloof and dismissive as he was rumoured to be.

“Thank you, lieutenant, this is sound thinking,” Thranduil said coolly. “But it does not make for a viable cause for the trouble at hand. A living dragon would not be able to damage the forest sufficiently for my people to be threatened. And were it any kind of man-made contraption, I cannot imagine how that would manage to cause sufficient danger to achieve such an aim as well. There are but a few Avari settlements close. Their inhabitants are likely to relocate at any threat of danger, let aside the fact that they do not regard themselves as part of my people, no matter that I am the protector of the entire wood. To an outsider, the Avari surely would be unrelated to me.”

Bregedaer was about to comment, but kept silent when he caught Glorfindel’s gaze.

“Let us rest now, we need to be alert later on,” Glorfindel said firmly. Nothing good would come from any continued discussion. They needed to cooperate well, and Bregedaer was to go with Thranduil.  He settled back again, trying to relax. Something was going on here, something that had not been an issue before. Thranduil clearly was uneasy, but also clearly not willing to share it with them. Bregedaer’s reasoning made sense to him, but only if the threat was man-made, and aimed at Thranduil personally. But if that were true, the attacker would not only need to know Thranduil well, but also know about the profound relationship between the forest and its king. Somebody close to the king, somebody Thranduil trusted.

~oOo~