My paranoia was deserved. The Legion had not given up on me.
Scattered and powerless though they may appear to be, still one of their number sought me out. I should have known who he was. I should have recognised him. It has been so long, though, so very long since he was last sent to retrieve me for his master. I had forgotten. How could I have been so foolish?
He lured me from the illusory safety of the town. He lured me out into the open, away from the eyes of others, with a simple plea for help. When he hit me with the shovel, I fell dazed to my knees. I tried to get away; I think I crawled or stumbled, I do not quite recall, but his knife placed to my throat convinced me to desist. When he put me on his horse, a blade to my back, I knew that there was no escape, at least not for the moment.
We rode hard, the knife slicing through the cloth of my shirt and into the soft flesh of my back with every bounce. The wounds were not deep, but they did draw blood. Now they just sting and itch. As we rode, he told me his intentions.
Anarr, he called himself, the Spear of Isengard. A lofty and pretentious title if ever there was one. He told me that he would deliver me to Carn Dum, as his master had desired and claimed that in doing so he would gain a promotion. I told him that his master was dead, but he simply laughed. They, both him and his former master, worked for others; Angmar, Barad Dur and Isengard. I must assume, then, that the Legion do likewise.
When we passed through Trestlebridge, he convinced the guards that we were on our way to Esteldin, and that I was his pregnant wife. The nerve! I wanted to claw his eyes out for that, but all I could do was sit there helpless and silent, a knife to my back and a terrible fate stretching out before me.
We stopped in the wilderness between Trestlebridge and Esteldin. I knew that running at that time would do me no good. I knew that I would need to bide my time, to pick the best moment to flee and even though he tied me to a tree, I knew that I would find one sooner or later. I had been compliant with his wishes until then and that would eventually lead to complacency on his part.
Thankfuly, I did not have much longer to wait. His boredom, or perhaps his lust for women, caused him to place his hands where they should not be. I still feel dirty, like I shall never be able to rid myself of his tainted touch. It makes me nauseous to think of his hands on my chest, even if I had my cloth tunic to protect me from the feel of skin. The smell of his rancid breath as he licked my cheek is enough to make me gag even now. A well-aimed knee, however, cut short his amorous advances, leaving me with an opportunity to loosen my bindings.
He recovered sooner than I would have liked, but it mattered not for only moments after there came a shout from the ridge and arrows fell about us. One caught him in the leg. To my shame, I was not displeased by that sight, nor was I in the least bit concerned for him when he limped away, leaving me to struggle free of the ropes. As he fled for his life, I too fled for mine.
Hours of running and walking later, I found myself back in Bree, back on the Scholars Stair. I needed something familiar, something stable, something that could soothe my fractured mind. I tried so desperately to be calm, I tried so hard not to let the recent events effect me. I wanted no one to know of it. I wanted...
I wanted to be the woman everyone thinks that they know; the calm collected, serene, little Ilaru. The innocent and untainted, stable and unafraid girl who I have worked so hard to become. The lie of me. I know, even if others do not, that I am as broken now as I was when Bearn found me in that barrel so long ago. That became all too clear to me when Seaver found me there and I could not help but break down and cry in his arms.
I sit here now, hiding in plain sight atop the Scholars Stair. I sit here in a bid to avoid those that I know whilst remaining in a place that is familiar. Some might say that it is foolish, dangerous even, for me to be here, but I disagree. The Legion believe this place to be unsafe, and that is what makes it perfect for me. If they will not come here, then I can stay... even if only for the moment.
Arugru protects me, lurking in the shadows nearby, silent and faithful. My most treasured companion, he will not desert me, or become someone else in the blink of an eye. He will not listen to my words and grow angry, leaving me in search of someone to maim in vengeance when all I need is for someone to just sit with me and tell me that everything will be alright.
Comfort is not for people like me, however. It is my place to give it, not to recieve.
