Chapter Seven: The Flight and the Fate of Marwen

"Give up Orc."

Ursa was sprawled on her back, scrambling backwards to escape her attacker. A tall powerful ranger of Gondor was upon her. She had always been terrified at the thought of them. Most Orc were. They were like masters of shadows, never seen until they wished it. They would pick you off before you knew they were there. Since they were young, these soldiers were trained to kill Orc effortlessly. They showed no mercy. They showed no hesitation. And now one was upon her, ready to end her life.

Ursa said, "Please, I beg you, have mercy."

His cold voice said, "I have no compassion for a wolf's death throws, or the squeals of a pig before the slaughter."

"I beg you!" she cried.

Her arms were shaking and her legs seemed to have gone limp.

"G-give me a c-chance. T-there must be something I can do."

He said, "The allies I require are not savage Uruks. Unless you can bring me the head of the Black Hand, you are useless to me."

"Ally? Yes, I can be of use to you." said Ursa, "I know things about the others. You are killing us to draw them out? That's why you are attacking the Captains, to weaken the Warchiefs. And if you kill the Chiefs, the Black Hand will finally leave his throne…. I understand. However, you will never succeed. You need an ally to aid you."

"Venomous words from a snake that would bite me first chance."

Ursa said, "What do you want me to do? What can I say to convince you?"

Talion said, "There is nothing. You can only die."

His sword was aimed at her head. She watched, frozen in absolute terror, as he raised his blade and prepared to behead her.

A painful memory.

A memory that haunted her like all the others. She never could forget such threats. Even so, Ursa fancied Talion and in time, came to love him. Fear and anxiety was replaced with feelings of trust and peace. So then why? Why did this memory still haunt her? It bothered her that she had such a dark recollection about the father of her child.

Talion would never hurt me

Whenever he was close, Ursa knew she could relax. She need not play the fearless Warchief. In his arms, she truly felt that nothing could threaten her. There was no place she rather be.

Why then? Why did such a nightmare haunt her? She was no longer his prey. Even if he had intended to kill her so coldly that night, he had not gone through with it. Talion had changed. His cruel gaze would never be on her again. It couldn't.

Talion would never hurt me

Ursa waited in the back of her camp. Her Orcs were all positioned in the front of her base, standing behind a stockade. With a soft smile, she watched as her ranger returned to her. He walked toward her briskly. It was the same confident stride with which he always carried himself, with which she loved. The half-Orc was relieved to know her husband was back by her side so soon. Had it been a few minutes longer, she would have fled deep into the wildlands. Yet here he was, victorious over the Tower. She was glad that her fears did not come to fruition, that the Tower was not as nightmarish as she had predicted.

Ursa began to walk forward, with her hand on her stomach as she thought about the child within her. Another Black Captain was dead and her child was all the safer for it. She could not wait to retire for the night with Talion by her side. They would leave the humid camp and return to their house. In that moment, Ursa froze in her tracks. The Ranger's face was calm and he did not blink. She saw Talion's hands move to his blade. He pulled it out from its scabbard and drew closer. In that moment, Ursa realized what had happened. She had known that the Tower's power of control rivaled Talion's. He had lost. He had fallen. Right now, her own life was about to come to an end.

"Talion!" she screamed, "Stop!"

Talion would never hurt me

Ursa flailed her hand to the side and said, "You must fight it!"

Talion said nothing as he prepared to strike her down. It was not a strange look for him. He did not look like some mind-broken slave. Rather, Talion looked like he was preparing a deathblow for a goblin with the same focus he always administered in battle. He would slay her like any other.

She shouted out with fury, "Don't tell me you intend to kill our child!"

As he heard it, Talion froze in his steps. He transformed into the form of the wraith and pulled out this bow. Celebrimbor, just like Talion, seemed ready to shoot down the Orc. The Warchief stretched out her hand for a second. If she destroyed Talion with her magic, her child would be safe and Talion might be reborn without the curse. However, she did not have the heart to hurt her husband. Ursa yelped in pain as one of the Wraith's arrows struck her. She looked to her right shoulder where the arrow was lodged in. It vanished a second later. She was in a panic as she awaited Talion's teleportation there to behead her. However, Talion instead prepared another shot. She was confused as to his choice but had no options now but to fight. Ursa grit her teeth as she stretched out her right hand once more. A wall of fire climbed upwards and burned as if the green grass were dry from a scorching summer. Talion's Orcs now began to stir and move towards her. She thought herself foolish for handing over all power to him. Right now, Talion controlled every Orc in her army and Ursa was alone.

The inferno rose and spread like a ring through the camp as Ursa made her retreat. Talion's orcs stood at the fire unable to continue. The ranger himself made no attempt to pursue, at least for the moment.

Within seconds, Ursa was on her horse, sending it dashing madly into the thicket of trees. She saw Uruk up ahead. One prepared a pike to skewer her. She pulled back her hand. A small ball of fire was created in her palm. She swiftly hurdled the fireball forward and it blasted the Orc into the trunk of a tree. The Uruk yelped and fell over unconscious. Talion was in pursuit now. Ursa turned in fear to see the ghostly form of the Wraith dashing towards her, fast as any horse. She took a sharp turn between two trees and sent a spark of fire into a rope above. Before Talion could reach her, a net of logs snapped. This unfurled its load, sending the logs raining down on her pursuers. Talion was aware of it and made his way to the side of the trees, intending to cut her off. Ursa's eyes were full of fear as she saw him about to intercept her. Right now, she was being hunted by a hunter without equal, a hunter with years of training and skills in his arsenal. She ignored the searing pain in her arm as she tugged on the reigns in her attempt to lose him. However, the ranger was gaining ground and fast. In a last desperate maneuver, Ursa summoned another wave of fire. This time, Talion's ghostly arrow fired through it and landed in front of her. Ursa's horse buckled in fear as the ranger appeared beside it, his sword ready to slash its rider in the side. The terrified beast reared up on two legs. In that moment, the horse bucked its forelegs forward and its hooves crashed into the ranger's head. He was knocked in the chin back into the shell of an old oak tree. The Gravewalker collapsed, laying sprawled out at the foot of the oak. Ursa was in awe for a moment. She had never imagined Talion to fall in battle. He had defeated great foes like Belos Ironguard. It was ridiculous for him to be defeated by something so simple, but perhaps that was why it had worked. Whatever it may be, Ursa's luck had lasted a little longer. Her horse dashed deeper into the swamps where she soon lost her pursuers.

As nightfall approached, Ursa found herself sinking into the swamp. The path was gone now and her horse was well-submerged. She felt gnats and mosquitoes biting at her, leaving red blotches all over her skin. However, she could not spare a hand to swat at them. With a hand upon the reign and another clutching her bleeding shoulder, it was not possible. Her wound was now wrapped with a strip of fabric from her cloak that stopped the bleeding, but it would not stop infection. Her eyes were stained with tears from mourning her loss. She could not fault Talion for his fate. It would be cruel to do so. Nonetheless, there was a wound torn open by seeing Talion make another attempt on her life. The only thing more painful was knowing he was being forced against his will to do so, that she may have lost him forever.

No. I will not have it.

She promised herself she would survive this. She still had allies on her side and a power that gave her an advantage even against the Black Captains. To die here was to die in vain. For the sake of her people, her husband, and the baby within her, Ursa had an obligation to see this through. For now, she needed to get her supplies. So far, she had not fought any other Uruk. As Ursa knew where each was posted, it was easy to avoid their sight and continue forward. However, her small point of interest would prove more challenging.

Her muddied horse climbed back onto a platform of soft soil. It let out a grunt of frustration from the day's trials. Ursa let go of the reigns for a moment to rub the head of her horse. It was a small form of thanks, but all she could manage. Up ahead, she saw her tent. It appeared inviting but a trap in its own way. Her Uruk would find it. They would know. All the information they gathered for her was might bring her ruin

Up ahead, she saw the four Uruk she had placed on patrol. They were her bodyguards, good comrades of hers who she had known for many months. One even had been with her since Mordor. Reluctantly, she prepared a blast of fire for them. The Uruk, upon seeing her, drew out their weapons and charged her. Without hesitation, they were ready to cut down the Orc woman. She blasted the first one in the chest, sending him flying backwards. The other two were close enough for her to send them flying back a dozen feet. Their armor would save them. However, the last one was readying his bow and arrow. Ursa had no choice if she were to live. Simply by stretching out her hand, the Orc caught fire.

Such a horrendous power.

There was no chance for them. Perhaps a great wizard could dispel it before being burnt alive, but for a normal foe, there was no escape. As if drenched in oil, their flesh caught fire and they were incinerated in an instant. The Orc let out a scream of pain as it died and quickly its body turned to ash.

"Goodbye my friend" said Ursa as she shut her eyes, trying to hide her regret.

Perhaps it was better he died so swiftly. As many Uruk were content be without armor or shirt, her fire would cause them great pain before they died. In this way, a swift death was merciful. That was her justification for her decision to destroy the Orc before he could take the shot.

"This power was meant for the Tower," she said, "When I find him, I promise you he will suffer as you have suffered. He will pay dearly."

Ursa strode forward now into her tent. She felt her skin burn from the humidity. Even here, the insects attacked her. She ignored it and looked down at the large war chest. She pulled it open and began to scoop out the contents. In it, was a more fitting dress, with better protection from the chill of night and the bugs that bit her. She grabbed a large pouch full with water, wrappings filled with food, a blanket, a freshly drawn map, and several tools for travel. Beside the tent, were stacks of rations meant of her troops, as well as bundles of arrows and swords. Ursa would take only what she needed. Once her horse was packed with her gear, she was ready to be off.

Ursa knew the trees gave her the best cover, but she could not rest there much longer. The swamp would soon be scouted out completely and the grasslands had few forests. She needed to escape for the night deeper into the mountains. At the dawn, she could head for the land of the tribesmen. They were her last allies in this land.

No one had an expected an even greater storm to follow the black clouds that hit Núrn. As Núrn fell into the darkness of night, the storm hit with all fury. The great ships rocked about and many smaller vessels were battered. The swamp was torn to shreds as the storm upturned the soil, water, and trees. Ursa now desperately searched for shelter. She had planned to travel through the night to avoid the patrols, but that was no longer feasible. Her horse groaned as he took her deeper into the outskirts of Núrn. Ursa could barely see. She wiped at her eyes to see through the rainfall. Any hollow or cave would do. Her body was aching all over from her long journey. Her body was as weak as ever; worse, the pain in her shoulder was spreading across her entire body.

At last, she spotted a dark pit in which she could hide. It was an old Caragorn cave. She feared that the beasts might lurk inside or be upon her at any moment. However, as she heard an old tree come crashing behind her, she did not hesitate to make for her newly-found cover. She would simply burn any that threatened her.

There was a crack of thunder as Ursa huddled herself in the cave. Her body shivered as the temperature dropped. Her clothes were well and soaked from the last hour she had spent seeking cover. Ursa turned away from the whistling wind that cut at her face. The half-Orc reached down for her bag to retrieve some necessities. Right now, her body was at its limit. She was exhausted, frozen, and in great pain. She felt terribly ill, no doubt in thanks to her sickly nature. She desperately wanted to create a fire. She could dry her clothes and get a bit of life back in her veins. However, she feared that it would bring Orcs in search of her. Right now, Caragorn were enough of a threat. She would have to endure it. Ursa now loosened the cap to her water pouch and guzzled it down. She realized right then that her bladder and bowels were also full. In the same vein, her stomach was utterly empty. She would have to deal with all of this before she could think of sleep.

Could she think of sleep? If she shut her eyes, she was as good as dead if anything found her. But if she didn't rest, she might become even sicker than she felt now. Ursa decided to risk it. She shut her eyes, remaining curled up as much as she could with a child in her belly. She forced her mind to be silent lest she recall the fate of her husband or strategize without end.

"Ursa…" she heard a man whisper. His voice filled her with happiness.

"Ursa!" said the voice gain.

She pulled herself up from sleep, ready to burn alive whoever threatened her. Her hellish eye was fixed on her target. However, her gaze softened into love and relief as she realized who it was.

"Talion… how?" she asked.

"Ursa, I'm so sorry. It's going to be alright. You're safe now."

He ran to her and placed his hands around her back. She should have been more cautious, but her mind seemed twisted right then. She could think only of her joy as she felt again whole.

CRACK!

Ursa woke from her bliss. She was in the cave but this time she was alone. Her heart ached as she realized it was but a dream. Reality was far crueler. It had been kind for a time, but in the end, it always revealed its true self. Right now, as she tried to move, she found her body wracked with pain, aching terribly from the slightest movement. She was too sensitive to move. Still, she managed to turn her head to look at the front of the cave. She needed to see how badly the storm was. Given she heard thunder, it could not have improved much.

Ursa's heart began to beat as adrenaline filled her. There at the foot of the hollow was a large Caragorn. It began to growl as it noticed the stranger. Given Ursa had found no bones or droppings inside the hole, the Caragorn did not live there. It must have caught her scent. It spread apart its jaw, revealing its drool-encrusted fangs. Ursa heard her horse panicking in the back of the cave. With a hiss, the monster began to move forward. A single swoop of its paws was all it needed to rend her to pieces. Ursa felt her body tighten up now as she prepared to fight. She would only have a single chance to attack. A flash of lighting happened right then. The small Orc sprang forward and stretched out her hand as if she meant to crush it. The Caragorn rushed at her, ready to crush her throat in its massive jaws. The beast yelped as it caught fire in a single instance. It began to roll around and scream in pain. Ursa increased the flames, needing it die without gathering such attention. Its death throes pained her. It let out high pitch shrieks like a wounded dog as it tried to survive. The beast let out a last yelp as it collapsed at the front of the cave. Its charred corpse began to smoke, but the rain quickly put it out.

The woman knew its blood and flesh would soon attract the cannibals of its own kind. She could not stay here safely, but she did not know what awaited her outside. Could she risk the storm? It was too much. She felt herself overcome with frustration now. It was always something, always something setting her back, always something overpowering her. Even with the power given to her by Sauron, she had to hide. Nothing had changed. She had to hide again just like that scared little orc avoiding the beatings her mother had planned for her.

Ursa hissed and set the creature ablaze again. She would destroy all temptation from its corpse, leaving no blood or flesh for the wolves to latch onto. The creature was set ablaze by her command. She did it quickly, not wanting to risk light any longer. Her hand fell to her side and the flames subsided. All that was left now was a skeleton and a pile of ash. The rain quickly smoked the body, washing away the scent and smoke.

Ursa sighed and curled up yet again. She knew the night would be long. She could move nowhere until the storm passed. The only upside was that her enemies faced the same conditions. The Orcs could not pursue far from their camps until the thunderclouds passed.

Ursa's eyes awoke. She felt well rested. However, moving proved more difficult than ever. She felt her entire body become wracked with pain now, as if her muscles and skeleton had snapped. She put a hand to her bandages and realized her wound was swelling up. It was likely infected. She needed to get to Marwen's doctors and soon. Looking to the cave's exit, she could see a grey light. Ursa guessed that it was midday. The sun was hidden behind the massive storm that had breached her land. However, there was no longer any lightning and frightening gales. Now, there was simply a thick rainfall that would drench one to the bone within minutes. She would have to endure it.

Ursa untied her horse, whose rope was tied to a tree outside the cave, with enough leeway to allow it to hide inside with her. The beast was more than happy to wait out the storm and now resumed the journey with its master. She needed to find freshwater now to water her steed. Ursa climbed atop his back, groaning from the pain of stretching her shoulder. A moment later, she was off back into the wildlands.

After two hours of riding, she was nearing her destination. In a straight path, she could have reached it from her base within two hours. However, her long winded escape had more than doubled this. Now she was struggling to get back on course. She had never traveled on these roads and right now she was without the sun. The Orc woman was forced to make the best of her map and crudely navigate. If she could get a glimpse of the sea, she would be able to gather her bearings. Indeed, the fog from the coast and the chirping of gulls would be enough for her to know.

For now, she cut diagonally through the great hills towards the coast. She was forced to dodge over a dozen small Uruk parties along the way. There was so many now. The Tower's plans had likely been slowed down by the storm, but with it subsiding, he was sure to scatter his Uruk about the land. The other Warchiefs would be his soon and Talion would be lost in the walls of Morn. That was…. if he wasn't sent to hunt her down personally.

Ursa could not bear to think about fighting him again. She was not sure what she would do if they met again. Perhaps she would kill him on the spot to save herself and free him from his curse. Or perhaps, as before, she would not have the heart to strike down her beloved ranger. Without an answer, she made for the keep of Marwen. Ursa recognized the great formation of trees up ahead that marked the start of her territories, perfect for concealing the small villages of her people. At last, she felt a bit heartened. Here was a chance to speak with allies and turn the tide of battle. Ursa pulled hard on the reigns and her horse struggled to stop. She had barely had a moment to hear it. Right now, she could hear Orcs up ahead. She listened to the sound of their weapons jangling and their roars and curses as they moved about. Ursa dismounted and went onto all fours. She crawled to the front of the hill and looked over. She could see hundreds of Uruk moving towards the foothold of Marwen's domain. Likely, these were the forces of Kalug. Ursa wondered if they were an organized army, but then realized they were split into parties of six. Likely, this was a massive dispersal of scouts meant to find the tribes that lurked to the east. The Warchief also saw scouts moving towards her direction. She would soon be forced back towards her own domain or farther back from Núrn until she reached the great road from Udun. Marwen herself was pinned down as her land was to the left of the river that flowed from Mount Doom where Orcs shipped cargo. Encompassed by mountains and with war parties on the way, there was little room for escape.

Ursa decided to risk it and ride farther back into the mountains, looking for a way to reach Marwen. If she could at least find a single tribesman, it would be worth it. However, Ursa rode for at least an hour through the windy hills and forests. When she came at last to the outer rim of the old palace, she found a dozen horseback goblins had beaten her there. She was unsure if they had found the Queen, but it was too risky to proceed further. She grit her teeth and turned back farther into the forest. She needed to find some encampment that was not taken.

Nightfall was again upon the Warchief. Her horse slowly strode down the jet of hills as she fell back into the deep roots of Núrn. She had spent hours scouting the hills but could find only the Tower's orcs. She could only guess what had befallen her ally. There was little else she could do. Should she return to Mordor to control the Fortress of Goth and stand beside Isulek? How would she explain her child to the Uruk? Would she be safe there? Such a journey back alone would take months. In the end, she decided she must remain in Núrn, as dangerous as it may be. She would not abandon Talion. In the morning, she would set out again to find the tribesmen.

For now, Ursa would rest. She camped on a small flat. She lay down a blanket to keep her away from the frozen soil. Ursa ate what was left of her rations and drank the remainder of her drink. In the morning, she would have to replenish her water and forage for food.

The following morning brought a brighter sky. The heavens were veiled with a thin overcast as the sun was filtered through it. The rainclouds had past, leaving damp soil and succulent grass for Ursa's horse to trample upon. Ursa took her horse over to a small creek to drink. She dismantled now to refill her pouch. Her entire shoulder was now numb and she had difficulty moving it. She carried it in a sling fashioned from the black fabric that once lined the bottom of her dress. The Warchief knew she was running out of time. If left untreated, she would soon catch fever. For her, that could lead to amputation or even her death. Around her may have been medicinal herbs but she had no knowledge of Núrn's botany. It had been one of hundreds of subjects she sought to pursue.

With her bottle full, Ursa prepared to return to scoping out the forest by Marwen's estate. She would have to risk being seen, but she was out of options. As Ursa mounted her horse once more, she spied a figure downstream. Like her, they appeared to be watering their horses. Ursa decided to risk getting a closer look. If by some chance, it was a man, she had to be sure. If not, she would do what she must.

Ursa slowly strode towards the stranger, moving at a slow enough pace as to not cause any fear. She saw now that the person at the water was a man dressed in furs and worn cloth. She could not help but smile a bit at seeing him. However, the man now panicked as he saw her. He drew out his bow and aimed it at her head.

"Stop right there Orc!"

"Please," said Ursa as she put her hands into the air, "I am no threat. I am Ursa, ally of Talion the Ranger and Queen Marwen of these lands. I seek an audience with her."

"Ursa… the Warchief at the wedding?"

"Yes."

"We thought you dead," said the man.

"Then you are one of Marwen's men, yes?"

"I am," he stated.

"What has become of the Queen?" asked Ursa nervously, fearing the answer.

The man said, "I am unsure. I will take you to Lady Lithariel."

"Lady Lithariel is with you?" said Ursa, feeling a sense of relief.

"Yes. She leads us. Come now, before we are seen by unfriendly eyes."

Ursa followed the rider into a series of stony hills, sculpted and torn open through the ages. In time, they had come to form a precarious canyon, wide enough to fit a horse between. In the grassy hills of Núrn, places such as these were rare. Ursa was surprised to learn that the tribesmen had come across it. While lacking perfect cover, it was not a bad place to hide from the Orc scouts, at least for a while. Up ahead, Ursa could see a smoldering campfire with a few men and horses around it. She breathed a sigh of relief as she drew closer. At last, after two days, she had a bit of hope.

The men reached for their swords but remained seated. About them were small pouches of supplies and some firewood. However, it was not enough for a base of operations. Ursa dismounted as the warrior explained to her identity to his comrades. She bowed to the tribesmen who seemed quite suspicious of her.

"We can permit her to go no further."

Ursa said, "Lady Lithariel will recognize me. I must speak with her quickly."

"You should not have brought an Orc here," said one of the men, "Especially not a half-breed."

"Ursa?" asked a familiar voice, the voice of a young woman.

Lithariel walked up from behind the men with a catch of hares in her hands. She dropped them beside her company of hunters and approached the Warchief.

She said, "You survived. We heard that your base was taken by the enemy. We feared you were slain."

Ursa said, "I am fortunate to be alive. I must know… what has become of your mother… of the Queen?"

Lithariel's eyes looked pained as she thought on Ursa's question. She brushed aside one of her blonde braids of hair and began to speak.

She said, "She was captured by the Tower. He sent a thousand scouts to search the foothills. Once some of our hunters were spotted, the army marched in and fell upon the palace. My mother fought bravely, like a true pirate queen, and shot many down with her bow. However, the Tower put her under a spell. Many of our finest warriors lost their minds before him."

She continued, "I know that many of my kinsmen were slaughtered in the battle. Nevertheless, most were taken alive to Fort Morn. They will be branded and broken, then delivered to the City of Slaves in the Western fold of Núrn, far out of our reach. The Queen is now his prisoner, although I do not think he will keep her alive for much longer. I was out hunting when the war came. Pursued by Orc and Caragorn, I was unable to aid her in time. I failed her. But I am determined to save her."

"I see," said Ursa, "I will gladly aid you."

"Talion told me of your magic. It will be needed to destroy the Tower, if such a thing is possible."

The Warchief replied, "I must confess I am not well. I was shot in my flight. I hoped you could treat it."

"Let me see it," said Lithariel.

Ursa spread apart the sleeve on her shoulder, already slashed open from her treatments. Her pale flesh was red, swollen, and sensitive. The rag that covered it was soaked in blood. Lithariel untied the cloth and examined the womb.

"Do you know if the arrowhead lodged itself inside?" asked the woman.

"It did not. I assure you." said Ursa

"I must be certain," said the princess.

"The arrow was not of Orc. There will be no trace."

"I do not understand," said Lithariel, "What arrow could…"

She asked, "Ursa… who did this to you?"

In a stern voice, she repeated the question. "Who did this to you?"

Still Ursa said nothing. She could not. It hurt too much say his name, to remember.

"Where is Talion?" asked Lithariel.

Ursa looked at the other woman. Seeing the fear and pain in her eyes, she understood then how much Lithariel cared about him.

She said, "He has fallen under spell."

Lithariel said nothing now. She blinked and looked to her side. Both women were silent for a minute. In the silence, only to be heard was the howl of the wind as it blew through the crevice of the cliff. At last, Lithariel looked down at the Orc whose face had sunk, hidden behind her messy black bangs.

"I must finish treating your wound," said Lithariel.

She grabbed hold of Ursa's arm and brought her eye close to the injury. She grimaced from frustration, unable to perceive the extent of the wound through the blood, puss, and inflammation. She muttered a curse in the Corsair tongue and began to search about for cloth. She grabbed hold of a strip hanging from the side of her horse and returned to the Warchief.

"This may hurt," said Lithariel, "I must look more closely. Brace yourself."

Lithariel pulled out a knife from her belt and rubbed it on her finger, checking its sharpness. She drew it closer to Ursa's wound and placed it right onto the gash. Slowly she began to slice deeper into Ursa's wound. Ursa grunted between the cloth in her mouth. Her teeth gnashed and clenched as she was stricken by a searing pain. Blood was pouring out of her wound as Lithariel examined it. However, Litihariels' fingers did not dig much deeper.

She said, "The wound is shallow. It did not strike the bone of your arm. Had it done so, fragments would soon poison you and nothing more could be done. Well then, we must stitch it."

Lithariel reached into a leather pouch on her belt and searched through its contents. She pulled out a small metal needle and a spool of thread. She had used these tools to close her own wounds before and to repair tears on her tunic. Ursa shut her eyes as the woman stabbed the needle into her sensitive flesh and began to pull it out. Her crimson blood gushed out. Lithariels' eyes fell upon it, finally realizing it was not black like that of the Orcs she slew. It contrasted the unnatural white flesh around the wound. She felt her stomach turn as she began to realize that Ursa was truly of Orc and of man. She resumed her stitching. Having knotted it, she severed the thread.

She said, "I will bring you herbs for the pain and wound. You have not yet caught fever, so you should live. My men will give you food and water. Please remain here and rest. We will think nothing of striking the enemy until the morrow. Do you understand your highness?"

Your highness?

Ursa nodded her head and said, "Very well."

Lithariel turned and began to make her way back down the canyon she had come, her horse in tow.

The Warchief said softly to her, "Lady Lithariel…"

The other woman stopped in her steps for a moment.

"Thank you."

Lithariel did not turn her head nor respond. Rather, she continued to tread down the rocky pathway. She soon vanished into darkness. Ursa shut her eyes. Although the nightmare was not yet over, she could at least escape the terror enough to feel her grief and loneliness. Amidst it, she felt the slightest sense that that her loneliness had faded just a little.

Author's Notes: Ursa did not have the heart to tell Lithariel that it may have been Talion that led the enemy to Marwen's camp. Since there was a chance it was merely the scouts, she chose to remain silent.

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