"No, Gracious Lady. Alas, I cannot. My orders are to take you onwards."
14th August/Urui T.A 3010, High Pass, Misty Mountains
Anberenien could not remember how many days she had been in the mountains. She was only let out of the box when the priests fed her. Her captors gave her a thin watery gruel that staved off starvation but gave her no strength. During meal times, Nuta sat before her eating bread and fruit. She would offer Anberenien some, but only if she would repeat the phrase: "Hail Melkor! Hail the Great Master!" When she remained silent, Nuta cruelly beat her.
But after the beatings, Anberenien was still defiant. Still refusing to speak the words. However, her battered and bruised body was becoming frail and her limbs ached with the pain of being contained within the box. Her wrists and ankles were red and bruised, and her once rosy lips were now chapped and sore. At night, Sauron would come to her in dreams, demanding she swore fealty to him and give him the information Bilbo had told her. Anberenien wondered how long she could endure before she gave in to their will.
Nuta and her priests had taken over the pony cart and all their goods. They even wore the clothing of the caravaners. Nuta, now dressed in the clothing of the trader's wife, and Anberenien suspected that she too had been slain. One day, as she lay in her small dark prison, she felt the cart slow.
"Who goes there?" said a gruff voice.
"We are but simple traders making our way back to Dale," said Nuta.
"You don't sound much like a Daleman, you don't look much like Dalemen either,"
"I can assure you we are residents of Dale returning home before the winter comes," said the priest firmly.
"Let's see your coin then."
"How much is the toll then, sir?" asked Nuta.
"Usual price, two gold."
"That is more than last time!" replied the Priest.
"There are more Orcs on the road of late, even in daylight. You will need an escort. "
"We have no need of an escort. We have guards. One gold coin will suffice. Take it or leave it," said Nuta.
"We do not negotiate with strangers, two gold coins or the price goes up!"
"It must be a Beorning," thought Anberenien.
She remembered them from Bilbo's tales of his journey to Erebor. The Beornings guarded the High Pass of the Misty Mountains, charging high tolls to those passing through. Their lands spanned from the Eastern side of the Misty Mountains to the eaves of the dark forest of Mirkwood. Beorn, a man who Bilbo said could turn into a great black bear, had been their lord. He had long since passed, but his kinfolk were still rumoured to be able to turn into bears as well.
The Beornings and the Priests continued their heated negotiations. "If you will not agree to our terms, you can turn back. Perhaps a friendly Elf will invite you to winter in Rivendell. But you will not pass here unless you pay the toll, and the price is rising!" There was silence for a moment, then Anberenien heard the sound of a horse's hooves galloping nearer and then drawing to a halt. "Search the cart!" called Glorfindel's voice. "By whose authority?" demanded Nuta.
"By the authority of Lord Elrond of Imladris. I believe they may have knowledge of his missing daughter!"
"There are no Elves in our company," replied Nuta.
"The lady is no Elf. She is a Dúnadan, adopted into his family," said Glorfindel.
"Perhaps a search might satisfy Lord Glorfindel. We might be prepared to drop the toll slightly," said the Beorning.
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Daughter of Arnor - Servant of Fate
FanficA Story of love and adventure set in Tolkien's Middle Earth. She earned the love of his people. He earned a place in her heart. In the last years of the Third Age, A baby girl is born into the royal line of the Dúnedain Rangers. A long-lived race o...
