Children of the North: A Middle Earth Story (Book 5)

Chapter 4: The Beast

Present Day
Fornost

Morwen crept through the bushes, careful to avoid the guards who stood at intervals along the cobbled walkway. They seemed disinterested at best, and one was even leaned up against the wall, no doubt merely 'resting his eyes."

She slid past him easily, not making a sound as she set her feet down carefully onto the grass with each step. The next guard seemed more alert; That is, he was at least actively standing at his post and seemed to be mostly awake. She waited a moment, watching him from her vantage point in the manicured shrubs on the side of the path. She was tempted to throw a rock in an attempt to distract him, but she doubted that such a trick worked as well in real life as it did in the stories.

Instead, she waited for a while longer, forced to suppress her impatient nature. As he turned away, she made her move, swiftly leaping to the next set of shrubs. Fortunately for her, he seemed to either not notice or not care, and he began to meander down the path in the opposite direction.

After breathing a sigh of relief, Morwen closed the remaining distance to the sturdy oak doors that led into the council chambers, peering inside to see if her father was present.

Gerithor was indeed there, seated in his usual spot at the head of the table, his eyebrows knotted together in concern. Beside him on one side was Carenor, who for once seemed interested in the conversation that was taking place. On his other side was a ranger Morwen didn't recognize, his dark hair gleaming with sweat and his garb unkempt and dirty.

"We didn't even hear it coming, m'lord," He said, his words interrupted with heavy breathing. "Like a ghost out of the night it fell upon our camp."

"Did you ever see it?" Gerithor asked, turning to the ranger.

"Aye," The man said, pausing for a moment as if reliving a terrible trauma. "By the time I awoke, the screams of my companions filled the air. It had torn into their tents, dragging them out and killing them by the embers of the dying fire. When I emerged from my own tent, I saw it. Its claws were dripping with blood, claws that were long and sharp as a tempered blade. It turned to face me and I met its eyes, red and bloodshot like some sort of demon. It howled and bounded off into the forest, still carrying the body of Thildun. I tried to chase it but it was fast. Too fast, if you ask me. It was like it vanished. I followed the tracks but they led far to the north..."

"How far?" Gerithor asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"I pursued the beast until a snowstorm blew the tracks away. I was nearing the northern reaches of the Ettenmoors. If the snow clears we may still be able to pick up its trail."

Gerithor rose from his seat, Carenor following suit. "Stay here and recover," Gerithor told the ranger. "My son and I will see if we can pick up where you left off."

Morwen ducked behind the bushes once more as they left the keep, but she was not quick enough. Carenor broke into a sly smile when he saw her.

"Eavesdropping, eh?" He asked, waiting for her to emerge from the bushes. When she did, he let out a short laugh. "Well, I suppose you finally heard something interesting, at least."

Morwen frowned, angry that her older brother had caught her. "It was hardly worth it. Do you know how long it took to sneak past the guards?"

As she finished speaking, one of the guards gave her a quizzical look. She shrugged and turned back to her brother.

"Do you think father will let me come with you?" She asked, lowering her voice so Gerithor wouldn't overhear her. He was busy in conversation with one of the guards, but his hearing was keen.