The Last Othellan

An Unexpected Meeting

An age of the Earth seemed to have passed before I heard footsteps outside the Walls of Edoras again. A thrill of fear came over me as I wondered what Legolas would say to me. However, I realised after a second that the footsteps were too heavy. They did not belong to an elf, but a man. I thought of Aragorn, but the footsteps coming towards me were unfamiliar in my sharp ears. They sounded uneven.

I stood and looked around to see a stocky middle aged man walking towards me. He had a heavy limp on his left side, and walked with a cane. His hair was greying, and his clothes were simple after the fashion of Rohan. As he saw I had noticed him, he glared. I raised my eyebrows.

"Good afternoon, friend" I stated politely, bowing my head at the man ever so slightly but keeping him within my sight. I was suddenly gladdened by the weight of my daggers by my side.

I would never have thought the man could move so quickly. He suddenly stepped forward and thrust out a hand towards me. I flinched at his movement and he laughed softly. Barely having time to collect myself, I was caught off guard as he grabbed my shoulder and slammed me into the wall behind me.

"I was told you wouldn't like that" he muttered, coming closer and closer to my ear as he spoke. His breath smelt rancid.

"What do you think you are going to achieve by this?" I said slowly. The man grinned.

"Have you not worked it out yet?" I rolled my eyes. Did he think I was stupid?

"You are a spy of Saruman. I'm not asking you who you're working for, I'm asking you why"

"There's no need for personal conversation, is there Othellan? Or would you like me to ask you about the day you murdered your father?"

I struggled to release myself from his grip, but he held me against the wall and took out of his pocket a small piece of white cloth covered in blood. I furrowed my eyebrows as he pressed it into my hand, trying to remember where I had seen the unique, intricate pattern just discernible under the bloodstains before. Looking at it made me feel somehow guilty. Then it hit me and I swallowed.

The man laughed again. A louder, manic laugh, so close I could almost feel his lips on my ear. "That's right, murderer, this belonged to your father. He wore it the day you took away his life. Lady Saerwen thought you might want to put it next to your empty bottle of poison."

My breaths were trying to come out in gasps, but I forced them down. However, my efforts were fruitless and my hands shook as the man took out a long, jet black dagger, just like Saerwen's. Saruman had said the dark forces wanted to scare me. They were certainly doing their job.

The man held the dagger to my throat. "Recognise this, filth? Now we can have some fun". I watched, horrified, as the man dropped his cane and started to stroke his hand gently up my leg. Instantly, I heard the shouting of a guard, who must have been looking over the wall at the right time. There was a sound of steel on leather as he called to his fellows.

In an instant I pulled myself together. I pushed the man back and drew my own daggers. He almost lost his balance as he stood on his bad leg, but I gave him no time to think as I clashed both my daggers with his. Evidently, the man had not expected me to fight back. He stumbled again as I met his weapon for a second time. I could hear stomping from above as several guards clattered down from their posts to assist me.

I spun my assailant round and slammed him against the wall, pushing my arm against his neck so he couldn't move. His eyes bulged as I pushed on his windpipe, hissing to him angrily.

"Didn't it cross your tiny mind that I might know how to defend myself against a creep like you?"

I was interrupted by a shout of "My lady!" and the clattering of feet. I turned from my attacker to see four fully armoured guards with their swords drawn. I let go of the man pinned up against the wall and he stumbled, coughing and clutching his throat.