Chapter 32
Lórien

About an hour after setting off into the trees again, Fred noticed that Aaron was getting restless. He started glancing around at the trees, as if something was going to pop out of them. George, too, seemed restless. He waved Fred and Sam over and leaned close to them.

“Stay close to me, boys,” he whispered. “There’s talk of a strange woman in these parts. A crazy old woman that preys on travelers.” He grunted. “Well, here’s one man she isn’t going to snare. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox.”

At that moment, a tall man stepped from behind a nearby tree and pointed a handgun at George. George went for his own and pointed at the man, but as he raised it, another man stepped from behind another tree and drew his own gun, placing the barrel on the back of GeorgeÂ’s head. More men stepped from the trees and pointed their own guns menacingly at the fellowship.

Aaron raised his hands in surrender and motioned for the rest of the fellowship to as well. “It’s alright,” he whispered. “Just do what they say.” Fred put his own hands up, and looked over just in time to see Sam doing the same.

The tall man stepped forward. “It’s been a long time, Aaron.”

Aaron didn’t move, but he spoke in the same tone. “Too long, Harrison. How are you?”

“Fine, fine,” Harrison (for this was clearly the tall man’s name) said. “How are you?”

“Tired. Smelly. Grieving,” Aaron replied calmly.

“You may put your arms down, by the way,” Harrison said, motioning with his gun. “And those who travel with you. So long as they remain with you, we will not harm them.”

George snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Harrison rounded on him. “You doubt me?”

“Possibly,” George responded coldly.

“That enough, George Lee,” Aaron said firmly. He turned to Harrison. “Did Mrs. Bell get President Ronald’s message?”

Harrison nodded. “Yes, she did. She is waiting for you. Follow me.” He started off into the trees. Aaron followed, and motioned for the rest of the fellowship to follow.

Harrison led them through the trees for about five minutes before they came out into the open again. And what Fred saw amazed him. A tiny little outpost of sorts nestled into the forest. But what it lacked in size, it made up for in defenses. Fred saw anti-aircraft guns and turrets all over the perimeter. Guards marched up and down the walls and outside as well.

Harrison led them inside the gate and down a row of buildings. When they reached the center of the outpost, Harrison led them into a dimly lit command center. The room was busy, with officers running back and forth. In the back of the room, at a desk, sat an army officer. Beside him was an old woman, maybe in her late fifties. She was tall and beautiful, despite her age. Harrison led them up to the desk and saluted, then turned and walked away.

The officer spoke first. “How odd. President Ronald’s email said that there were nine of you, yet I see only eight. Where’s Agent Grey? Wasn’t he the leader of this party?”

Fred didnÂ’t want to answer, and turns out, he didnÂ’t have to. It was not him, or Aaron, or any member of the fellowship who answered. It was the old woman.

“He is dead,” she said simply. That simple yet powerful statement brought tears to Fred’s eyes. The old woman continued. “He has fallen into darkness and flame. Without him, the fellowship is falling into disarray. The quest stands on the edge of a knife. One wrong move, one small error, and everything is lost.”

Aaron bowed his head. “Mrs. Bell, we have come here for rest. We are weary and grieving travelers, simply wishing for a night’s rest.”

“And you shall have it,” Mrs. Bell said, looking out across the fellowship. “For those of you who do not know us, and I believe that is many of you, I will introduce myself and my husband. I am Grace Bell. My husband here is Commander Caleb Bell. He is the head of this outpost, Lórien.”

“You may stay here as long as you wish,” Commander Bell said, eyeing the fellowship. “Rest and refuel. You may leave when you are ready to continue your journey.”

Aaron nodded. “Thank you.”

“Quarters will be prepared for you,” Mrs. Bell said. “Now, please go wait outside until Harrison shows you to your quarters. Good day!”

* * *

Later that night, Aaron Horn stepped from his room in the building where the fellowship was staying. Liam was standing outside the door, watching some sort of gathering in the courtyard. Aaron came up beside him. “What is going on?”

Liam didn’t even turn his head. He just stared at the drifting lights of a hundred candles. “A funeral for Greg. They have lit candles and are singing in the various languages that the people on the base speak.”

Aaron could make out words, but could not discern what was being said. “What are they saying?”

Liam shook his head. “I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near.”

Aaron nodded, then turned and looked out at the funeral of his greatest friend. Then, he heard Liam turn his head. “Aaron?”

“Yes?”

“I did not know Greg as you did,” Liam said. “And I do not know his mind. You did, best of any of us. Tell me, why did Greg do what he did? Why did he fight, knowing he was going to die?”

Aaron was caught off guard by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

“But you must have a good guess.”

“I think I do,” Aaron nodded. “I think Greg knew that this mission, the world itself, was more important than his life. He has been an F.B.I. agent for years… longer than we’ve been alive. Greg knew, and he would never forget, that one day he would have to sacrifice himself for the world. And he did.”

Liam nodded. “That is a good answer.”

Aaron smiled, and the two stood there, watching the funeral of a friend. The candles waved eerily in the night air, and the music sounded almost magical. Aaron smiled. Greg would have not have wanted it this way. He would have wanted a quiet service. But Greg couldnÂ’t even begin to know the impact he had on people. He couldnÂ’t understand.

But, as Aaron watched the funeral, he believed that he could understand. Just a little.

To Be ContinuedÂ…