The Pentagrid Net

[Lief Erikson]

Chapter 121: The Time of Life

Wandieriell smiled as he raised his hands, touching the gray bark of the tree, and I joined him in whispering in its ear, bringing it back to the life it had so long forgotten.

It came slowly, with a hard fight from its sleep. But they knew that inside it something eagerly, desperately wanted what they had to offer. The heart of the tree wanted life again. "What?" a voice rumbled from the depths of the tree, and the two Istari next to it exchanged smiles.

"We have but one thing to ask," Wandieriell whispered into the tree's heart as he continued his probing, his gentle recalling to life of the old tree. "That you protect what we placed in the center of this wood from all comers."

"Shall dooooo . . ." the voice rumbled, and the tree shuddered violently, as if freeing itself from ages of sloth.

"All comers, except those who walk along the path we have set," Wandieriell continued as he reached lower along the tree's trunk, and pressed his thoughts against those of the tree. His impressions, his wisdom, and the path they had prepared.

"Our thanks," he said as he stepped away from the tree, smiling as it came fully to live in front of him and opened what appeared to be wide, bark eyes. "Your brothers in Fangorn would be proud of you now, after all this time, finally emerging to the real world."

The tree was too full of the joy of life to be defensive after this statement. "Harooom, hah!" it said as it moved its timbers in small circles and stood to its full height, looking down upon the me and Wandieriell, who now were standing in its shadow. "Guarding this path is the least we can do for you, you who bring with you the gift of life!"

"We didn't grant you life, as you'll easily remember if you think for a moment, and let the memories come," Wandieriell said with a smile. Now will you help me with the other trees? We have a long path to walk yet before the Forest of Pentagrid is what it was."

"Quite so!" the tree returned. "But there's no need to be so hasty, we don't need to have it all done by nightfall, do we? What's the rush?"

"No rush but our own desire to be done," I answered.

"We shall awaken these sloth eaters," the tree said, turning in the soil and taking a couple strides towards the tree nearest him. Then, lowering a bough he clunked it three times on the back, none to gently, and shouted "WAKE UP! The time of life has begun again, and the Forest of Pentagrid now arises!"





Chapter 204: A seeker of answers

A man sat at the table with me, sharing food. He was a ranger, and he had sculked on the edges of the forest for months, pondering its secret, battling with its guardians in wit, not with blade. He softened them, weakened them, pieced together what little scraps he was given. He was a seeker of answers.

"Colmade, tomorrow I will enter the forest," he told me with an eager expression.

"You said that three weeks ago, and barely escaped with your life," I remarked dryly, but I was not without pity for the man. This ranger wanted to know all, to do all, to defend justice and establish peace, and to fight and destroy evil. A hero seeking the opportunity to prove himself.

"If you simply told me what lay beyond this forest's eves . . ." the ranger said, and I knew he was trying to sift me for information the same way he did the trees.

"It would be no use," I answered. "I know you, and you wouldn't rest till you had seen for yourself what was beyond there, even if I told you there was nought but a dung heap."

"The trees . . ."

"The trees are simply volatile," I interrupted, hoping vainly that he would believe my lies, "they attack without reason, and it would be best for you if you stayed away. For your own sake."

"My life won't end by the pounding of a tree's timbers," the ranger said with an arrogant grin, but not it was slightly weak. He knew of the danger those trees could give, even without the legends which had begun to spread about the forest of Pentagrid.




Chapter 215: Vanished without a trace

I found orc bodies three days later. Sixteen of them, piled on the ground between the forest of Pentagrid and my home. Slashed apart by fierce orc blows, and there were parts of the bodies of several others, who appeared to have been wounded but escaped the battle frenzy. I investigated the site and recorded it, and then took no further notice. But never did I see my ranger friend again, and soon I began to put more significance in the finding. Was he captured, driven off, or did he discover something there that he wanted to keep secret? Or was it not him at all, but one of the vicious squabbles among themselves that I am told orcs sometimes have?


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Many years later . . .

What was taking so long, the warrior asked himself impatiently. He was standing under a small cluster of trees, and around him his band lay in hiding, rendered invisible by the combined cloak of their hiding places and the darkness.

The minutes ticked by, but finally, his eyes raised and he peered off into the darkness ahead. "At last," he muttered to himself, but he couldn't help feeling a surge of relief. That woman . . . Silthre, he thought was her name, had done her job well. A terribly dangerous mission, but she moved like a cat. She'd been helpful on covert operations like this one before this time.

Shrieks and cries arose in the orc camp before them as they ran in turmoil at the burning of their leader's tents. A swift move, and one that spread alarm and confusion. The war had swept across him as he remained here in the Galmaeri Lands, a place on the outskirts of Mordor, but which wasn't mentioned in most of the maps of Middle Earth. It was a small country, but that didn't prevent Sauron throwing strength against it.

"Charge!" he shouted to his warriors, and there was a glistening of silver metal as cloaks, donned to keep metal reflections from happening in the moonlight, were thrown back, and the troops rushed forward.

Erenfor drew his own silver blade in a gauntleted fist, and plunged into the battle at the head of his troops. The shock tumbled the orc tents and his trained elves sliced down the unprepared fighters. Twenty minutes later, it was all over. And this was one less orcish band to be commanded by the Dark Lord Sauron.