Part two of the Broken Trail

"Glimmer within the Darkness"

Coastal city of Dol Idrenil - south of Belfalas
3203 S. A.

The raven croaked and its beady black eyes glittered unblinking down at Eärindur. Huge talons hooked over the lip of the roof, gripping the eves like a gnarled, barbed vice. The black haired young man squinted up at the large bird and hissed,
           "Go away! Fly from here! Leave me!"
           The raven merely shook its feathers and clacked its beak.
           The sun had set and the slip of sky that shown between the high buildings blazed blood red. The streets of the harbor town of Dol Idrenil were sparsely populated and nothing but the stiff ocean breeze and the cry of the gulls hung in the air. Eärindur raised a grubby hand and pressed his cracked and blackened fingertips to his forehead, trying desperately to rub the pain away. His stomach felt small and tight, and it rumbled painfully. The young man's head pounded within his skull and he grimaced as he scanned the narrow alley.
           Suddenly the raven squawked and Eärindur lifted his face to scold the bird when he heard the tapping of soft boots. The young man stiffened and sucked in a breath, holding it in silence. A trickle of sweat rolled past his eye as Eärindur squeezed the leather grip of his broken sword.
           A large man stomped down the alley, muttering to himself and wringing his hands. He was clothed in a thick cloak and though it was not fancy, it was finely made. His double chin jiggled as he mumbled and with his head bent he did not see the shadow hidden within the alcove. Eärindur lunged at the man and forced him into the wall ahead. The man's face smashed against the rough stonewall and in one swift motion Eärindur brought the jagged end of his broken sword up under the stranger's chin.
          "Your purse, or I'll open your throat." Eärindur could feel the old man shaking against him. "Quick with it and you might keep all your blood."           "Please," sputtered the man feebly, "please." Eärindur abruptly spun him around and began feeling for a purse. "I haven't anything," the quaking man blubbered.
          "Where is it!" barked the dark young man and then he suddenly stopped.
           Eärindur 's icy grey eyes met the weeping ones of the older man. Resting the splintered tip of his broken sword upon the gentleman's shoulder the young man took a step back. Anger and hesitation twisted Eärindur 's expression.
           Wiping his eyes with the back of sleeve the gentleman sniffed loudly and puffed, "You, you are no cutthroat."
           "I'll do what I must," he grunted in reply.
           "I think not," sniffled the man, "you haven't the stomach for blood work."
           "Don't be too…"
           "I would be dead already!" shouted the man. Eärindur 's hand began to shake violently and the sword skittered upon the man's shoulder. "Do it then!" screamed the man and his voice reverberated all around and echoed in the streets beyond. Eärindur glanced up and down the alley and as the voice faded into the distance he dropped the tip of his sword away. Taking a step further back the young man felt his back press against the rear wall. "Thief, common thief!" shrieked the man at the top of his lungs.
           In a flurry of black feathers the raven suddenly exploded from his perch and began careening wildly around the alley, squawking loudly. Panic seized Eärindur and he bolted from the alley. The streets were now fully dark and only the glow from an occasional street lamp flickered round the walls. Eärindur could still hear the man bellowing in the distance when he scrambled under an abandoned vendor's stall. Panting as quietly as he could he waited in the shadows.
           After a time the sound of the man's screaming ended and the cold, damp air became silent once more. Carefully Eärindur slipped his ruined sword back into its scabbard and made to stand up. As he poked his head above the edge of the stall a shifting sound scrapped from above and he quickly looked up.
           The raven was back and sat hooked to the wooden framing. Like chips of black onyx the bird's eyes glimmered down at the young man. Eärindur was just about the shake the wooden stall when the clink and jingle of approaching soldiers forced him back into the shadows. He just ducked out of sight as several city guardsmen rushed past.
           "This way men," shouted one the troops. "That cutpurse can't have gotten far!"
           Eärindur sat with his face in his hands as the sound of the soldiers dissipated. Slowly he crept from the vending stall and scanned the cobbled street. Nothing stirred, though from above the raven sat glowering at him in the darkness. Ignoring the bird Eärindur slipped from his cover and passed down the quiet street. At the far corner he carefully peered around and then snapped his head back. Three guardsmen stood down the lane talking quietly. The young man quickly retreated.
           I have had enough of this place, not enough food and too many guardsmen! he mused as he crept along. I need to find a gate to get out.
           For a quarter of bell Eärindur slipped from one shadow to another as he made his way to the perimeter of the town. Fortunately the cold weather kept the streets fairly clear and so with careful movement he neared the walls. When Eärindur finally reached a place where he could see the gates he found them surrounded by guardsmen. Two clusters of soldiers stood around two raised braziers that glowed hotly from the fires within. The dark young man melted into a shadows and waited, hoping that the guardsmen would disperse. Eärindur 's head pounded and he once again rubbed his face forcefully.            This cold weather is against me! Those men will not want to leave their fires. Perhaps there is another gate.
           When he turned to leave, a familiar sound suddenly fluttered above him. Overhead the raven swooped past and then landed a dozen feet away upon the bumpy street. Black as midnight the bird strutted upon cobblestones, it's long, curved talons clicking sharply. The raven's eyes sparkled from the gloom as it gazed upon Eärindur.
           "Fly," forced the young man in a horse whisper. The raven merely sauntered over to a place near the wall and turned to face Eärindur. "Fly," repeated the young man and when the bird made no movement the boy shook his head and crept forward. As he passed the raven he glance over and found it as stationary as stone; then Eärindur froze! The bird was standing within the opening of a crack in the wall. It was thin and narrow, but the young man felt as though he might be able to squeeze through. The raven locked eyes with him and then turned and disappeared into the opening.
           At that moment a loud ruckus issued from the far end the lane and Eärindur was forced to make a quick decision. Glancing up he found a large man forcing two smaller people down into the darkened street. Instantly Eärindur sprang forward and squeezed himself into the hole. Once past the opening he found that the space was much larger than he had thought and at the far end of the short tunnel he could just make out the woods that stretched away outside the town walls. The raven was nowhere to be seen so he began to crawl forward.
           From behind him, out in the street, he could hear an angry man's voice shouting at the two people he was attempting to control.
           "Get going you, or you'll get some extra fun tonight!"
           Eärindur stopped still. The voice from the street behind him was painfully familiar. Twisting around he crept back to the narrow opening and peeked out. Before him were two small female figures who where struggling against the efforts of a huge man. Though he was cloaked and hooded the man's voice was unmistakable and Eärindur knew him instantly: Ulwyck of the Black Adder Clan.
           The two girls were trying desperate to escape from Ulwyck, who was obviously intoxicated and intending evil pleasures. Eärindur edged back away from the opening afraid that the raider might notice him. He had no doubt that if Ulwyck spotted him, the huge clansman would take great delight in bringing Earindur back to Gahmûl. Ulwyck had had no love for Eärindur, even when the young man was a member of the Black Adders, and now that he was fugitive the raider would kill him on sight. The girls were being jerked back and forth and they cried out into the night.
           Eärindur slipped back and turned toward the opening that would lead him away from the city. He was crawling toward the dark opening when the raven stepped back into view. Black, unblinking eyes shown coldly from the bird.
           "What?" whispered Eärindur quietly. "Out of my way, leave me alone."
           The bird stood its ground and clacked his long, pointed beak. The dark, lidless eyes bore in upon him. Suddenly the sound of tearing fabric and a sudden scream filled the short tunnel. The raven croaked madly but did not move. At this moment something snapped within Eärindur that had lain dormant for many years. Something that had been covered and buried deep suddenly sparked and a long forgotten feeling abruptly swelled. The dark young man twisted in the tight space and headed back toward the opening to the town.
           Back out on the street Ulwyck was having his way. One girl lay whimpering against the far wall and the other was struggling in the raider's brutal embrace. Carefully drawing his splintered sword Eärindur waited until the clansman's back was turned and then he sprang. Eärindur came low from his hiding place and rolling upon the cobbled street halted near the legs of Ulwyck. The young man slashed with his broken sword at the lower leg of the clansman and despite the thick boot, felt his blow slice through leather and flesh. With a scream of agony Ulwyck toppled to the ground and landed flat upon his back.
           Eärindur was up in moment and rushed to the girls. "Fly from here!" he barked. "Get you gone!"
           The girl who had been standing leapt to her fallen friend and after helping her to rise; they scurried together down the street and away.
           "You are a dead, boy!" bellowed Ulwyck from the ground.
           "Here," shouted Eärindur now full of rage. "Gives this to Gahmûl for me!" The young man drew back is leg and kicked Ulwyck fully in the wound that he had just inflicted. The clansman shrieked in mortal pain and fainted away.
           Before the wale dwindled from the narrow street Eärindur was back in the hole and scrambling clear of the town. A wood met him upon the other side and without looking back he dashed into the trees and sped into the night.

With a flapping flurry of black feathers the raven landed upon the arm that was outstretched for it. The hooded man that held the bird quickly fished a cornel of corn from his pocket and offered it. Stroking the silky feathers of the bird's head the two watched as a young man blindly bound past them and disappeared into the darkened trees.