When the sun was setting between the Great East Road and the Old Forest near Buckland, Demrîng dismounted and walked a few paces down the steep slope. He needed to talk to the Crebain. There was no way to prevent Elwil from seeing it and becoming curious, but Demrîng did not care about it anymore. It did not matter at this point.
He raised his arm, looked up in the sky and started uttering throaty croaks. A moment later a big, black and ugly crow-like bird landed on his arm. It stared at Demrîng, tilted it’s head askew and started croaking and cawing and rattling at him. When the bird stopped making noises, Demrîng answered it with a few low, gurgling croaks and harsh grating sounds. The bird tilted it’s head to another direction and stared at Demrîng a few moments more before it spread it’s wings and flew away. Demrîng turned around and saw Elwil staring at him, mouth agape. Demrîng smiled.
”Were you… communicating with that bird?” Elwil gushed, astonished.
”Of course”, Demrîng said. ”Haven’t you heard that the Dúnedain are said to understand the language of birds and beasts? It’s true – we do.”
”What are those birds?” Elwil asked, looking at the dark, winged silhouettes circling abovehead. ”They have been following me since I was attacked at the ruins outside Bree.”
”They are the eyes for those who would see, my dear. Your Greengage went into Buckland. The Rangers of Ithilien are hiding nearby as well, this side of the Brandywine. Delioron is on his way here too, and so is a wagon with a hobbit and four watchmen from Bree. Lots of traffic on the Great East Road today!”
”Are we going there too?”
”Yes”, said Demrîng. ”We will arrive in Buckland tonight.”
”And then?” Elwil demanded. ”Are we going into the village? Spend the night with the hobbits?”
Demrîng looked up and regarded the pale woman atop his dapple gray mare, Gûl. She struck a beautiful image sitting there, in the light of the setting sun, framed by trees and vegetation. And he knew it was very possible she might not live to see the day after tomorrow. It was a pity, but it did not move him otherwise. He would not hesitate to kill or sacrifice her, if that’s what it took to accomplish his mission. Demrîng had never slept with a woman, man or beast, he had never felt the urge that drove men and women onto each others’ arms himself. Such impulses were a mystery to him, though he understood the necessity of it, from the point of procreation. But his aesthetic sense could appreciate beauty in people, and having to destroy beauty always felt slightly unpleasant to Demrîng. It was like destroying a piece of fine art.
”I don’t think so, Elwil”, he said. ”We will find us a place to camp somewhere outside the village. Somewhere we can keep an eye on comers and goers without being seen ourselves. Somewhere with a view to the river and the Shire.”
The Rangers of Ithilien were going to kidnap the hobbit, Paladin Took, but he did not know the reason why. And if Elwil’s story was to be trusted, neither did Delioron. According to the Crebain, Greengage was in Buckland and Delioron was fast making his way there. The Rangers of Ithilien had been spotted near Buckland, and the dark man whom he had seen collaborating with both the ruffians of Bree and the false Delioron was on his way too. It was going to get crowded in Buckland.
But how could Demrîng alone find out what was going on, when he did not understand the plot and the dynamic between all these various groups? How could he utilize the one resource he had available, Elwil? Demrîng did not know the answers to these questions, not yet, but he had to do his best to find a way to play these different groups against each other to his advantage. Whatever was going on, it was something Sauron would want to know about, of that there was no doubt.
He glanced at the setting sun. Finally the time was up.
