To Tame A Fire

17. Race to Save

Hii. Sorry for my absence; life is busy and inspiration low :\

Here to make-up with a 3k word chapter! Enjoy ❣

The haunting silhouette arose above the haze after two days and entered Ithreon's patrol's line of sight sending shivers of dread down their spines.

The horses neighed and bobbed their heads back in forth, eyes darting from tree to tree to find a place of safety. Yet not even the trees were safe here; for they were dark, twisted and sickly looking; lined with vast silver webs that beckoned all to stay clear.

Ithreon noted the horse's anxiety and leaned back in his saddle. "This will not do," he said. "The horses will draw attention to us; we must send them away."

The warriors nodded, not quite happy with this for how would they make a swift means of escape with their Prince? But they had no choice.

Dismounting, the warriors took what necessities they needed and sent their horses off with a word. Momentarily watching the animals retreat, they whispered a prayer before turning to their Captain.

Ithreon released a breath. "We continue on foot, take cover in the trees if the need arises." He only hoped the need did not arise, for these trees whispered against them.

They ran, feet as light as deers as they dashed through the forest, determination set in every stride. As they broke through the treeline, gasps emitted at the large fortress before them, their faces akin to horror.

Ithreon held up his hand in a signal to halt. Clenching his jaw, he tore his eyes away from the sight before him and focused on his warriors, noticing their unease. "Stand fast, warriors of Mirkwood, warriors of Greenwood!"

Nods and clenching of weapon hilts followed and Ithreon continued. "Our Prince is in there, wheater he be dead..." He paused, composing himself. "..or alive. You must focus if we are to succeed in finding him and Rhavaniel. Remember your mission."

The warriors stood tall, and determination and strength showed in their bright eyes. No exclamations were uttered, for they must not be heard.

"Faron, Galion, Airadan," Ithreon called in a hushed voice. He roamed his eyes over the scout and two warriors, satisfied with the fire their eyes. With a motion of his hand, they leaped into the trees, bows notched and feet moving briskly through the boughs. Though it was midday, no light shown here and they were grateful for the cover.

Landing soundlessly to the ground, Ithreon pushed the dread from his mind as he stalked forward, three warriors following closely behind and not much farther, twelve more.
***
The trees began to diminish, for none grew this far south. The air became cold, the sky even darker and Ithreon's eyes rose to the almost black cloud that hovers above the vast fortress, Dol Guldor.

The warrior pulled there cloaks tighter around them to prevent the attraction of orcs as they continued creeping through the wasteland and closer to the one place they wished to never enter.

"There," Ithreon pointed at the stone bridge that served as an entry. "We must enter through the bridge. Stay low, draw your weapons."

The warrior nodded and followed their leader to the bridge. It was narrow, ladded with cobwebs, sharp stones, and stained with blood. As they ascended up, small stones crumbled and fell to the abyss underneath their feet forcing them to slow down and feel with their booted feet each step. Open and vulnerable, to alert the orcs now was a death sentence if this whole mission wasn't already.

Reaching an archway, Faron and Ithreon's eyes met, and the captain nodded and watched as Faron went ahead to scout. He could not help but feel as though million of eyes watched his back and he turned only to see a large stone statue right above him.  He paled, wrenching his eyes away from the horrifying, hunched figure. He nearly startled as a voice called him, then visibly relaxed as Faron's voice was heard. Get it together! He scolded himself.