The Black Steel rested under the blanket of midnight stars, their stonelike figures bathed in the moon's faint glow and strewn about the old ruins of Echad Dúnann like fallen statues of yore. Sleep had found Esmeron fast after his head found the bedroll, but his slumber was to be cursory and restless. He awoke in the hours of deepest night, startled by a sound that he soon discerned to be the rustling of leaves, somewhat distant and yet too close for comfort. He knew not who among his companions stood watch, only that the suspicious noise seemed to rouse only himself.
Esmeron shook away the haze of lethargy and slowly rose to fetch his nearby longsword, pulling the blade from its leather scabbard. He crept under the crumbling stone arch at the fore of the ruins and peered out at the shadows beyond the torchlight. Walking away from the ruins, his ears caught the sound of footfalls at once faint and disturbingly near. He stopped half a moment before a silhouetted figure started bounding west on the road. Esmeron, sword in hand, immediately quickened his pace to give chase. Spy, scout or otherwise, he meant to know this creature's intentions.
The figure was swift and proved to be a measure faster the Bree-lander, who was lagging a fair distance behind. Esmeron dared not look back but soon became aware that he was likely beyond sight and sound of Echad Dúnann. The figure eventually seemed to tire from the vigorous pursuit and had slowed to something of a trot. Finally, it stopped entirely and appeared to turn and face Esmeron, who had gained a bit of ground and was near enough to see that the figure was a Man of some sort.
An arrow struck Esmeron directly in his left shoulder, the force of which nearly stopped him in his tracks. He glanced at the arrow in bewilderment and looked back at the Man, who was aiming at him with a rather long bow. Esmeron staggered onward, groaning loudly at the flare of pain that seemed to worsen with every pace. Another arrow sailed toward him, only just missing his left flank. It was now plain to him that there was no cover to be found, and all he could do was throw himself to the ground in desperate hope of evading the volley. A few moments passed as the arrows stopped and a tense quiet filled the air. However, the lull was fleeting and Esmeron soon heard quick and quiet footsteps approaching. He looked up but saw only the flash of a barbarous Man clad in hide and leather before the darkness fell upon him.
❧
The wilderness was dappled in faint morning light and it seemed to Esmeron that it was just past dawn when he came to, finding himself disarmed and tied to a small tree. Although the arrow that had pierced him was now removed, the pain in his shoulder was immense and his head felt far too large for its own size. His legs remained free but they would do him no great service, his arms and torso having been bound by strong rope. He peered through the trees at the landscape beyond, seeing the the Misty Mountains looming in the distance but noting that the surrounding country appeared more sparse and hilly than it had from the ruins.
A dusky, bearded Man then appeared before Esmeron, who was quite certain that this person was his assailant — now turned captor. The Man spoke a few words but Esmeron knew not his peculiar tongue. The Bree-lander began to recall childhood tales of strange Men who dwelt in hills to the south and were given to raiding and pillaging neighboring lands. He was reluctant to give these tales credence, however, for he had heard also that his own folk were descended from these brutish people known as the Wild Men of Dunland.
The Hill-man walked closer to Esmeron and gave him a hard, appraising look that eventually faltered as the Man muttered to himself and crudely smiled. He produced a small leather coin pouch and shook it tauntingly before Esmeron, who quickly recognized the coin as his own and narrowed his eyes in anger, but could do little more than struggle to break his bonds. These bootless efforts only served to further humor his captor, and Esmeron quickly realized that there was no hope of escape.
