With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 4: A Sporting Chance

Aragorn gave up trying to push his mind from the present, as they plodded over swelling hills in the darkness and the pain in his leg prevented his mental escape. He was fortunate that the arrowhead was still imbedded in the wound, as it had prevented more serious blood loss. But his leg burned, likely with infection, and Aragorn was uncertain how much farther he could march.

He dwelled instead on his growing list of missteps that had brought them to this point. Always he went back to the decision to run through the night rather than rest. He had had sound reasons behind his choice. They might not otherwise have caught up with the orc army—that much was likely. 

But what he had failed to properly reckon was their strength, even his own, after three days of running with scant rest, which had left them unfit for battle. Had he not faltered and been injured, Gimli might not have been distracted and then wounded as well. Legolas would not have had to fight for them all, an impossible task. At least Legolas remained wise enough to remember their quarry and accept defeat.

He had chosen poorly once more, a possibly fatal error, and now the worst had come to pass. How many of his friends would he lose to his poor judgment? How was he to rule a kingdom when he could not rescue two friends from orcs? They did not yet know the fate of Merry and Pippin-in fact, they had not seen them since they had begun their attack on the orcs. He could only pray for the hobbits' safety. For their own, he thought perhaps even prayer was in vain.

In all his time as a Ranger wandering the wild, he had never been so unfortunate or unwise as to be captured by orcs. He did not need first-hand experience, however, to know that Gimli had spoken truly-their end would have gone easier had they battled to their last breath. But Legolas was also correct. They were not on a mission for themselves but to save the hobbits, and most especially to keep them from Isengard. For Saruman had clearly gone after hobbits and would know precisely what questions to ask. And Saruman had ways of ensuring he received his answers.

Consequently, they traveled in fetters over the plains of Rohan, the babble of the Entwash enticingly near. Night had fallen long ago, and occasional torches shed an eerie glow upon their dark captors. With little expectation of their own survival, Aragorn held onto the hope that they might yet manage to free their friends. He would die more at peace knowing Merry and Pippin did not suffer the same fate.

Aragorn stumbled again and failed to hide it this time. Gimli, trudging in front of him, slowed so that he could lean on him. Aragorn allowed himself a moment of relief to see that the dwarf's stride was barely slowed by his own wound. He then felt a hand at his elbow as Legolas steadied him. Their efforts helped, but at some point they would no longer be enough.

Too soon, the world pitched sideways and Aragorn found himself on the ground, pulling his companions with him. Legolas and Gimli scrambled to get him up before the whips came, but he was as a dead man already, and they could not lift him with their bonds.

"Aragorn!" he heard Legolas cry harshly. The use of his true name roused Aragorn from his daze, and he looked about to see if the word held meaning for any others. That one word could prove more dangerous to him than any sword. For the same reason, he had made the desperate decision upon their capture to remove his Ring of Barahir and leave it in his pack. Orcs would ransack the bags and then hopefully discard them. The chances of the ring reaching Saruman were, if not remote, certainly not as likely as they would have been had it remained on his finger. He could not be recognized for who he truly was. And he would not have the heirloom of the House of Isildur in the hands of Saruman.

Legolas seemed confused by the concern on his face, then noticed where Aragorn looked-at his bare finger. The elf's eyes widened, but clearly he understood. "You must get up! A Ranger does not give up so easily, or have they become so lax? You cannot give up! Now on your feet!" He yanked the Ranger to his feet, only to be greeted by a whip.