Chapter 1
There was a loud crash as another proud stone wall crumbled into small pieces followed by more cries from fearful mothers carrying their children to safety. I was watching the horrendous action from the safety of the sixth level of Minas Tirith, the disgusting orcs looking like little ants. My job is to help bring in the women and children and help the wounded.
"Do you need help?" I asked a young boy, with curly brown hair looking lost.
"I can't find mamma," he replied with sorrowful eyes, looking up at me.
The little boy's eyes startled me. How can a small boy, who has hardly lived, have such eyes that look as if they have experienced more than they must?
"We shall find her. Do not worry," I replied, bringing him along with me.
Everywhere was getting full. Every house and corner was cramped with people and their belongings, trying to get as far from the destruction as they possibly can.
"Eve! Eve!" I heard my name shouted amongst the crowd.
The woman calling my name was a fellow nurse at the Houses of Healing.
"What is it?"
"We need you quickly! More and more keep spilling in and there aren't enough of us. There isn't even enough space to contain them all!" She frantically explained, while her eyes were growing larger at the sight of all the people.
"I'll be right over." I suddenly remember the boy holding on tight to my dress. "Please help him to find his mother."
"I can't do that. You think he is the only child here not knowing where his parents are?" And she ran off into the crowd.
I sighed, knowing what she said is true. "I guess you are stuck with me then," I told him, giving him a reassuring smile.
The healing ward was worse then what the nurse told me. All the beds were full and the floors even contained injured soldiers. The room had a stuffy smell from all the bodies. I had the boy sit in a corner washing bed sheets. The first man I approached had a deep gash on the side of his head. I knew it was a lost cause but there was something in his eyes, the unshed tears and his want to continue protecting his city that forced me to help him. I bathed his head and tightly wound a cloth around. There was really nothing more to be done but hope.
Hope.
Such a simple word to say and write, yet hard to believe in. My hope was dashed when no one came to save my sister. I realized coming to Minas Tirith was a bad idea but there was some sort of force that forced me to stay and help. If no one could save my sister, I can at least have a good feeling in helping others.
I was deep in my work on helping a young soldier, with a broken arm, when the little boy pulled on my sleeve.
"Do you hear that?" He asked.
I stopped what I was doing and listened closely. Everyone else did likewise. It was a horn. Many horns sounding off in the distance. Everyone that was able ran to a nearby window or outside to see what the noise was. I was dragged out by the boy and saw in the distance… horses.
Thousands of horses.