"You caught a blue-robed wizard, what's that got to do with me?"
On the opposite bank of the river, Garrett argued with the patrolling soldiers. Still, he hadn't managed to escape their attention.
The ground beneath his feet was Harondor, a disputed region garrisoned by both Gondor and Harad. But since this was the Harnen River, the entire south bank was made up of Haradrim settlements, while the north bank was often used as a landing point for their Corsair allies from Umbar.
He'd thought that crossing at a ford far from the main ferry would keep him safe, but these guards didn't even spare the remote crossing points.
After all, Gondor's heartland was far too distant to project power here, certainly not far enough to reach the enemy's home territory.
"By order of the commander, everyone passing through here must verify their identity and purpose. You'd better clear your suspicion in three sentences or less."
"I'm just an ordinary traveler, going to visit a cousin."
"An ordinary traveler, visiting a cousin?"
The garrison soldier looked Garrett up and down, expression full of skepticism.
"This area has nothing but military camps and soldiers. Who's your kinsman? Where'd you get that boat? And don't tell me you didn't know the commander has already forbidden unauthorized river crossings."
"And what's that thing wrapped so tightly in a blanket beside you? Is there someone inside?"
"You need to explain."
"Uh... would you believe me if I said it's a baby? He grew rather... large for his age. I'm taking him to find his family."
Garrett picked up the Gondorian officer, speaking with apparent sincerity.
Not that it helped, the hood covering most of his face meant the soldiers couldn't read his expression anyway.
"You take me for a fool?"
The soldier's expression darkened, and several more soldiers approached from the rear at the sound of voices.
By now, the soldier was convinced: even if this man wasn't the wanted fugitive, he was definitely a murderer, and the bundle in that blanket was most likely a corpse.
"Suspicious wretch, won't even show your face. You're coming with me!"
Seeing the other soldiers starting to close in, Garrett knew he couldn't stall any longer.
"Fine, I'll go with you."
He shrugged helplessly, stepped forward with the Gondorian officer in his arms, and suddenly bolted, sprinting away like a startled deer.
"Stop him!"
The shout brought soldiers pouring out of the nearby tents, dozens of them, weapons in hand, all charging after Garrett. They pursued him for miles without letting up.
Relentless, utterly unwilling to stop until one side was defeated.
"I had planned to resolve this peacefully."
By the roadside, Garrett set down his burden and drew his longsword.
"You chose this yourselves!"
The Harnen River garrison was closing in.
Just as Garrett was about to drop his disguise and eliminate them all, several barn owl calls suddenly came from behind a nearby copse.
Barn owls...? Wait, what barn owls would be active here at this hour?
He turned his head and spotted, among a clump of weathered trees, an inconspicuous oak. At its base, three small native Haradrim flowers just happened to form a neat triangle.
Rangers?
No, more likely a Gondorian forward reconnaissance team.
Gondorian Rangers.
He waved a hand to signal there was no immediate problem, then charged straight toward the dozens of pursuing soldiers.
He was calm, but someone else panicked.
"Get back here!"
From behind the tree, one of the Gondorian Rangers burst out. "Don't throw your life away! We've got time to take cover!"
"No need—"
The brief reply drifted back. The Ranger glanced around, gritted his teeth, and decided to at least get the wounded man on the ground to safety first.
But when a corner of the blanket slipped free, the Ranger's eyes suddenly widened.
"Captain?"
The person inside the blanket didn't respond.
The Ranger looked at his own captain, then at the man who was already disappearing into the distance. Gritting his teeth, he decided to drag the captain toward the underground hideout.
"What happened?"
The moment they went below, three other Rangers immediately surrounded them.
"This is... the captain?"
"He's alive!"
Someone checked him over, visibly moved.
"All his wounds are healed, and his breathing is steady. By the Valar, it's a miracle."
"When the captain was ambushed by those Southrons yesterday, I thought I'd never see him again."
"How did you bring the captain back?"
"It wasn't me," the Ranger replied. "The one who brought him back is up there. I couldn't see his face clearly, right now he's facing dozens of Haradrim soldiers alone."
"What?"
The group exchanged glances and quickly made a decision: "You stay here and guard the captain. The three of us will go up and assist."
"No, you'll be throwing your lives away. There are dozens of them up there."
"Then we can't just watch that warrior die at the enemy's hands."
One Ranger stepped forward, speaking to the one who had brought the captain back, the same one who had signaled to Garrett earlier:
"Take word back to Gondor. Our squad has no cowards among us!"
The three of them grabbed their weapons, shared the last small cup of wine left in the hideout, and one by one climbed up the rope ladder.
Clack.
The entrance to the underground tunnel opened. A faint metallic scent of blood drifted in, and a large, unfamiliar face suddenly appeared at the opening, peering inside.
"Who goes there?!" The Ranger reacted instantly, drawing his weapon. The Ranger still on the ladder nocked an arrow in a heartbeat.
"Easy, it's me!" Garrett quickly called out.
"He's the one who brought the captain back!" the Ranger watching over the captain added hastily.
"The enemy... where are they?"
Even after realizing Garrett was an ally, the three Rangers still climbed up and looked around cautiously.
"Over there."
Garrett pointed in a direction, where not a single man was left standing.
The pursuers were all dead.
"...Who exactly are you?"
After a moment's silence, one of the Rangers finally asked.
Garrett took the opportunity to remove his hood and scarf, revealing his face, and pushed his robe back slightly.
"Garrett, from Wayfort."
"My greetings to you."
Thud!
It was like a heavy blow striking their hearts. The Rangers drew in sharp breaths, exchanged glances, and nodded.
Confirmed, it was truly him.
"Forgive us for not recognizing you earlier."
"No need for apologies. Facing ten times your own number and still daring to take the initiative, such courage is admirable."
"How's your commander doing?"
"Commander?"
The Rangers silently repeated the word, confused.
What was going on? Since when had their captain been promoted?
"I'm well..."
Just then, a voice came from within the tunnel.
It was the so-called "Gondorian commander."
"I'm no commander," he said, climbing up the ladder in a few quick steps. "That was a Haradrim lie, meant to rally their own troops and spread fear among ours."
"Thank you for your aid, Garrett of Wayfort."
"I owe you my life."