The company's flight led us deeper into the bowels of the city, the stench of death rank in the air. Thorondir's passing still hadn't fully registered in my mind, for it had been far too sudden. I could still see his blood-stained grin etched into my memory, but I couldn't afford to let it distract me.

We plunged ever further into the growing darkness, the shouts of the Haradrim soon fading into a tense silence that was only occasionally broken by our heavy breathing.

Uirion was the first to speak. "We're in the black market."

I glanced around, taking in our surroundings. Though dark, I could see overturned stalls, many of them stained with dried blood. A struggle had taken place here.

"We shouldn't linger here," Eradan breathed as he rested a hand upon his sheathed blade, his voice filled with thinly veiled fear.

I agreed. Something felt wrong.

As we passed the ghostly doors and empty windows of houses and shops, the silence that followed in our train grew nearly unbearable. Normally, I imagined, Thorondir would make a witty remark or clever quip about the state of the city, but his absence was a void that could not be filled by any in the company.

Every now and again I heard what sounded like the patter of bare footsteps on the cold pavestones around us, but they were so light and so infrequent that I dismissed them. Perhaps they were merely the wet steps of an oversized rat, or a stray dog, or perhaps they were echoes of the feet that had once trodden in this city. Nothing more.

"Uirion," I said, wincing as my raspy voice cut the silence like a newly whetted sword against flesh. "Scout ahead. No point in us traveling further until we know where we're going."

The older man nodded briefly to each of us in turn before quickly slinking off into the shadows like a cat.

"The rest of us will search the ruins for survivors. Stay close..." I glanced furtively at the walls that wound around the outskirts of the market village. "They're likely still searching for us."

Ohtar drew closer to me, speaking in a low voice that the others couldn't hear. "You're blaming yourself for Thorondir, aren't ya?"

I turned away, ignoring him as I began to make my way to an open doorway. His large hand on my shoulder stopped me. "You shouldn't be."

I spun around, narrowing my eyes at the large brigand. "What would you know of it? I sent that boy to his death, all over a foolish argument. I should've stayed with him to the last, as a good captain would do."

"And leave the rest of us to our fates? That, Turin, would have been a true shirking of duty. You did the best thing you could have, given the circumstances. To linger in that moment will only lead us to more doom and sorrow." Ohtar's grip tightened on my shoulder and I relented, my expression softening.

"What would you have me do, then? Forget that his death ever happened? That it wasn't the result of my orders?" We both paused as Aerel passed by, giving us a gentle smile before continuing into the house in front of us.

"Learn from it," Ohtar replied, his tone intense. "Listen to your soldiers, but ultimately that final decision lies with you." We made our way into the house, brushing away cobwebs and ash as we surveyed the interior. "I lead men, once. Not proper soldiers, mind ya. Bandits. Highwaymen and cutthroats, men that'd just as soon stab ya in the back as look at ya. We were holed up at Dead Lord's Vale, just up the road from Osgiliath. Made our living by preyin' on the helpless, mostly. But times changed, and we eventually took to waylaying Haradrim bringing tribute up the road.

"It was pouring rain on the day we decided to attack a group of Southrons traveling south back to their homes. We figured it'd be another easy raid; Why wouldn't it? They had just returned from war and were weary and careless. Or so we thought.

"I ordered my men to lie in wait in the underbrush on either side of the road. One of them objected, telling me that we were outnumbered and needed to take a more cautious approach. I and many of my men laughed him off. He was a rookie and nobody respected him.

"Turned out that the Haradrim knew what we were up to, and had planned a little counter-ambush of their own. It turned into an all out brawl, the thick underbrush of Ithilien forcing us to fight them in close quarters. When the dust settled, we had come out on top. But we lost one man."

"The rookie?" I asked.

Ohtar nodded grimly. "Aye, the rookie. I'll never forget his face. His eyes were still wide open, and I could see the fear that clouded his last moments in them.

"I'd wake up weeks later with his damned face in my head, haunting me and my every move. But one of my men told me that no matter what decision I had made, the rookie might've died. It was not my choice alone that sealed his fate, you see. I believe that somewhere, something decides when our last day will come. I don't know if it's Eru..." he cast a wary glance at the building Aerel had entered. "But death is not always a path one can be turned from. Thorondir knew what he was doing.

"But I realized that despite my faults, I lead my men well. And it was only because I learned from the many mistakes I made."

I nodded slowly, trying to understand all that he had said. Before I was fully able to make sense of it, though, Uirion emerged from the collapsing husk of a house. A look of triumph shone from him as he came closer, and he pointed excitedly in the direction he had come.

"The bridge is only three blocks from here. There are guards, but not nearly as many as I expected. I found a small footpath that leads underneath the bridge, and there I found something that will make our task significantly easier."

"What would that be?" I asked, adjusting a bracer that had come loose.

"Have you ever heard of grog?" He asked, a wicked smile playing across his features.

===========================

As we came to the window of a burned-out-building, the bridge manifested itself before us, massive and foreboding in the darkening light of dusk.

"So what is this grog you spoke of?" I finally asked in a whisper.

Ohtar let out a quiet laugh. "Me and my gang used to call it Orc's Undoing. It's a foul drink that the orcs love with zeal. They'll kill each other over it, though I'll admit that doesn't usually take much provoking. Anyway, it has a property that the orcs hadn't anticipated when they first started consuming it: it's highly explosive. One arrow aflame could send a whole cache of the stuff up in flames."

I craned my neck, looking closer at the bridge. Surely enough, dozens of large barrels were stored on a walkway just beneath the bridge.

"Some luck at last," I said. "I wonder why they'd be foolish enough to put it there..."

Aerel chimed in. "The Haradrim probably didn't know what the barrels contained and just stored them where it was most convenient."

"What a foolish decision for them..."

"And a profitable one for us," Uirion finished. "I have just the thing to use for it, too."

He produced one of Thorondir's white-feathered arrows from the pouch at his belt. Ohtar bared his teeth in a fierce smile. "Even beyond the grave that madman is wreaking havoc among our foe."

"If only he were here," I said wistfully. "He could have easily made the shot from here, though I fear none of us have the skill or weaponry to do so."

Eradan drew his bow, stretching a hand out toward the arrow. "I'll do it. I'm the next best shot we have, and besides, I owe Thorondir one."

I pursed my lips, frowning at my little brother. Putting him in danger was the last thing I wanted to do... but as I exchanged a knowing look from Ohtar I realized that I had to be a leader, not a brother. And he was the best chance we had.

"Very well. We'll accompany you to a vantage point, and from there we can be rid of this cursed bridge once and for all."

===========================

The only vantage point we could find was a small guard shack on the city side of the bridge that was much too close for my liking. Unfortunately, everything else nearby had already been razed.

"Do you think you can manage from here, little brother?" I asked Eradan as he lined up the shot. He gave a slight nod of affirmation.

"I'll need to wait until the patrols switch out, though. There are too many guards in the way at the moment."

Ohtar pulled me aside, giving a kind smile as he did. "You've done the right thing, Turin. I know that one day you'll become a great leader."

I shook my head. "I don't want to lose any more of you here, especially not my little brother." I glanced back at Eradan. He was quite young still, not even an adult by the standards of Gondor. He hadn't had the chance to court a lady yet, much less travel anywhere outside the confines of Gondor. I wanted him to have a chance at those things... A chance at life.

"Then let's make sure we do this right, eh?" Ohtar said, bringing me back to the moment. Eradan turned to us, giving a thumbs up.

"So be it," I said, bracing myself for whatever might follow. "Fire when ready."

He took a deep breath, drawing the bow to its full length before releasing it with a quiet twang muffled by the rabbit fur on either end of the string. I watched the arrow depart, its passage across the void painfully slow...

I bet nobody expected this! To be honest, I didn't either. But I found this chapter mostly finished and decided to at least work on it every now and then. Enjoy, and Happy New Year!