“You’re back!” the man in the crimson cloak said and pulled down his hood revealing short black hair and wide eyes with dark grey pupils, a grin was formed on his red lips that contrasted his pale skin.
“Yes, it’s been a long time,” Erenkhad replied and the two men shook their hands.
“Time passed quickly.”
“Or not at all…”
“No?” the man looked around uncomfortably. “But th-”
“Who cares about the old man. I told him I’m back and there’s nothing he can do about it…”
“That’s not quite true…”
Erenkhad shrugged and waved a hand dismissively, “I can handle the old fool. I don’t know where he is now, though.”
“It will be full moon in a week. He’s probably going to Garth Agarwen.”
“To do what?”
“Try to break that Elf’s spells to open Domruth’s tomb.”
“The blind one’s useless…” muttered Erenkhad.
“Maybe, but he wants her bracelet.”
“Why?”
“He believes that there is magic in it. Magic that will strengthen him. Magic that will strengthen us!”
“The only thing that will strengthen us is by killing those that are trying to destroy us. Where have you been all this time?”
“Hunting.”
“Hunting what? The raven had trouble finding you.”
“I kept myself busy by hunting and killing off those Dunedain that still roam these lands alone.”
Erenkhad bellowed a laughter that spread all over the first floor of Carn Dum.
“Give those worms exactly what they deserve. Do you know where the others are?”
“Azgarzir is toying with the Dunedain in Evendim. He’s attacking them when possible to disrupt their operations and delay them. Sapthan is in Rhudaur attacking and sacrificing while leading his own band.”
“And Dolguzagar is hunting Rangers,” Erenkhad grinned.
Dolguzagar nodded and pulled up his left sleeve revealing crimson rings around his arm, they started at the base of his wrist and reached a little below the elbow, nine in total. “Each ring is a dead Ranger,” he said proudly.
Erenkhad scoffed and slapped Dolguzagar’s back proudly.
The two men entered a room on the second floor from the top of the old fort, it was a round room walled with bookshelves that were full of old books. The only bare wall had a window the size of a grown man and in front of it was a table with writing materials on it and two chairs. Erenkhad and Dolguzagar walked to the table and the former produced a folded parchment from his jacket. Carefully, he unfolded and held it out for the other man to take.
“What’s that?”
“It’s from the Dourhands. They are saying that a Longbeard caravan will leave Thorin’s Gate tomorrow at dawn, The Longbeards claim it’s a shipment of salt for trading in Forochel. The Dourhands are saying it’s something else. They say that not all of the Longbeards might know the truth about it.”
“Really…” Dolguzagar said and looked down at the parchment and read quickly. “Are they to be trusted?” he added.
“Yes, my sources are trustworthy. The question is, is there one Dwarf in the whole caravan that carries something or are they all in it?”
Dolguzagar nodded.
“I want you to go to Forochel,” Erenkhad announced what the man expected. “Intercept the shipment and take what is being transported. Leave no one alive.”
The man nodded again, “It’ll be a pleasure, rumours say that there might be one or two Rangers there still, I might pay them a visit,” he grinned letting his white teeth show.
“Do whatever you want as long as you intercept the shipment, burn a village if you have to.”
Dolguzagar smiled and offered the slightest nod.
“I need to send a message to Sapthan. I will leave your preparations to you. We have men there. They are at your disposal.” Erenkhad left the room and Dolguzagar pulled a chair, he sat down, straightened the papers in front of him and dipped the quill in the ink.
