"What in the name of Elbereth are you doing?" shouted Telvryn as she
toppled backward onto the floor.
"Escaping?" she said meekly, wincing as she rubbed her sore buttocks.
"Through there? You would've killed yourself!" His eyes were wide in disbelief.
"At the time I saw no choice," she said, nettled. "I wasn't expecting a rescue party."
"Never mind that now," he said, returning to the doorway and dragging the unconscious guard inside. He closed the door. "Quick, help me undress him." He pulled her to her feet.
"Undress him? Why?" she said, shocked.
"Because you're going to put on his uniform and sneak out of here, that's why," he hissed. Now hurry up."
"But I-I can't undress him," she stammered in protest.
"Why not?" He had to struggle to keep his voice down.
"Well, it's just that-I might see his….you know," she finished weakly. She'd never seen any besides Legolas, and she had no desire to see another.
"So help me, woman, you have taken leave of your senses. We haven't got time for propriety. I'm sure Legolas will understand. They're all the same anyway. Now, unless you want to give birth in this tower, you had better help me." His patience had worn thin.
So she did. She turned her head so as to see as little as possible. When the soldier had been stripped and hidden behind the privacy curtains of the bed, he turned and handed her the clothes. "Put these on."
"Turn around," she demanded.
"For the love of all that is sacred, put them on over your gown, then, but put them on!"
While she was dressing, he grabbed the sword and bow she had brought from Mirkwood and tossed them to her. She was dressed in under a minute, and he was just about to open the door when he noticed something.
"Hide those," he said, pointing at her chest.
"What do you mean, hide them? I can't hide them!" she snorted.
"Can't you squash them down?" he asked.
"No, I can't squash them down. They're not deflatable," she scoffed. "You're a virgin, aren't you?"
He flushed scarlet but made no answer. Instead he said, "Alright, let's go. And stay close." With a last look around, they crept outside and locked the door behind them.
The escape would've been flawless had it not been for the tea. They were inside the stables readying the horses when the sentry who'd escorted Telvryn to his post returned with the tea he'd promised. Seeing no one at the door, he'd grown suspicious. As he drew closer and saw a faint trail of blood beginning at the door and leading inward, he'd dropped the tea and rushed forward, pounding on the door with all his might. When the groggy guard had answered his frantic hammerings with a cry of "Escape!," he'd fled the castle to spread the news.
He now stood in the middle of the street outside the castle, eyes wild with urgency. "Escape!" he bugled, "Lady Saryn has escaped." Instantly the barracks sprang to life as soldiers hurried to intercept the escapees.
"Bloody hell!" cried Saryn, leaping astride the impatient Rhydon. "We have to make it to the gates before they close them. Hurry, Rhydon, hurry!"
She and Telvryn shot out of the stables and veered toward the imposing stone gates of Rivendell. The path to reach them was a half-mile long curve lined with immense oak trees that concealed the vigilant sentries perched inside them. Once started down that path, they could not turn back. Saryn risked a glance behind her. A dozen soldiers now pursued them, some with bows drawn. There was no longer any choice. They must reach the gates or die.
She urged Rhydon on, digging her heels into his ribs and leaning as far forward as she could. "Ride hard," she breathed against his neck. Dust plumed and the path blurred beneath his hooves as they fled. Her breath was coming in short, ragged gasps, and she was nearly sobbing with fear and desperation. Behind her, the soldiers were gaining ground, and she knew the horse could go no faster. "We have to fire on them," she said, choking on the words in horror and shame. She drew her husband's bow.
"We can't do that! They're our own people!" he remonstrated.
"Elbereth forgive us, I know, but I have no intention of dying here. Will you take the front or the rear? Try not to kill them," she said, stifling a sob. Reluctantly, she trained her bow ahead of her and waited for the first sentry tree to come into view.
The horse skidded around the first curve, and a sentry tree swam into view. A young sentry was poised on the lowest branch, waiting to pierce her with an arrow. She released hers faster, and he toppled from the tree, an arrow in his ankle. Before he struck the ground, she turned and fired at the tree opposite. Its occupant plunged down, wounded in the hip. She yelped as though struck herself and sped on. Two pairs of sentry trees left.
Behind her she could hear agonized neighing as Telvryn fired upon the pursuing horses. She spared a quick glance over her shoulder. A horse crumpled to the dirt, mortally wounded with an arrow in the neck. Its rider catapulted forward and landed with a wet snap, his shoulder broken. He screamed in agony, and she followed suit, half-mad with guilt. "Lord Elbereth, forgive me for this madness and hurt, but I have no choice," she wailed, her chest heaving. But she did not stop.
The second set of sentries drew near, and she fired upon them, striking them in the thigh and shoulder. She brayed louder, squeezing her eyes shut against the carnage she was causing. The number of pursuers had dwindled to four, but still they came, and simultaneously blessed them for their bravery and cursed them for it.
Both the last pair of sentry trees and the blessed gates could now be seen. She could see the guardian elves working feverishly to close the mammoth gates, their backs and shoulders bunching with effort as they struggled with the great wooden crank that operated the gates. The were strong and disciplined, and the gates were now less than halfway open. "Telvryn," she screamed, "stop that chain! Keep them from closing the gates."
She felt Telvryn pass her as she fitted her bow. The first shot clipped the sentry in the knee, but the second, blurred by tears and terror, veered from its intended target and struck the young sentry in the neck. "NOOO!" she screamed, leaping from her moving steed and scrambling to where the young elf lay sprawled in the bloodstained earth. He was clutching his throat and gurgling. Bright red blood was foaming from his lips and dribbling down his chin. He's drowning in his own blood, she thought as she dropped to her knees beside him. His eyes were wide and bright with pain and fear. They were a bright green, the color of polished emeralds.
"This I did not intend," she wept, hovering over him. He cringed away from her, more blood pouring from his lips. His breath was coming in shallow, watery hitches. He didn't have much time. Pulling herself together, she slid her arms beneath him and struggled to pick him up. He fought feebly but was too weak from blood loss to put up much resistance. "Rhydon," she called.
The noble beast, never far from its master, responded to her call and appeared at her side. She tried to heave the nearly lifeless elf onto his back, but he was too heavy. "Help me, Rhydon," she gasped. She felt a warning twinge of pain in her stomach from the child growing inside her. She took a deep breath, and the pain slowly faded. The horse knelt down, and she draped the young elf over his back. She was about to mount herself when she heard the thunder of hoofbeats behind her. There wasn't time. "Take him away, Rhydon!" she commanded, tapping him on his flank. The horse rose and bolted toward the gate, and she turned to face her pursuers.
They were nearly on top of her. She turned and ran for her life, lithe legs pistoning as she sprinted the last fifty yards to the gate. Ahead of her, she could see Telvryn gesturing frantically for her to hurry.
"Run, Saryn!" he screamed. "They're coming!" She could feel the horses' hot breath on her neck as the her feet pounded the dry ground. There was a hot stitch in her side, and another stab of pain gripped her belly, making her cry out. She could see Telvryn raising his bow. She felt the wind as the arrow passed millimeters over her head to embed itself in horseflesh. She heard an anguished bleat from the poor horse and a muffled thud, but she dared not look back. She was exhausted, her legs burning with exertion. The stitch in her side had grown serrated teeth and was tearing through her side like poison fire. She was bawling helplessly, black spots dancing before eyes.
Then Telvryn's slender hand was pulling her through the gates and out of Rivendell. They had escaped.
"Escaping?" she said meekly, wincing as she rubbed her sore buttocks.
"Through there? You would've killed yourself!" His eyes were wide in disbelief.
"At the time I saw no choice," she said, nettled. "I wasn't expecting a rescue party."
"Never mind that now," he said, returning to the doorway and dragging the unconscious guard inside. He closed the door. "Quick, help me undress him." He pulled her to her feet.
"Undress him? Why?" she said, shocked.
"Because you're going to put on his uniform and sneak out of here, that's why," he hissed. Now hurry up."
"But I-I can't undress him," she stammered in protest.
"Why not?" He had to struggle to keep his voice down.
"Well, it's just that-I might see his….you know," she finished weakly. She'd never seen any besides Legolas, and she had no desire to see another.
"So help me, woman, you have taken leave of your senses. We haven't got time for propriety. I'm sure Legolas will understand. They're all the same anyway. Now, unless you want to give birth in this tower, you had better help me." His patience had worn thin.
So she did. She turned her head so as to see as little as possible. When the soldier had been stripped and hidden behind the privacy curtains of the bed, he turned and handed her the clothes. "Put these on."
"Turn around," she demanded.
"For the love of all that is sacred, put them on over your gown, then, but put them on!"
While she was dressing, he grabbed the sword and bow she had brought from Mirkwood and tossed them to her. She was dressed in under a minute, and he was just about to open the door when he noticed something.
"Hide those," he said, pointing at her chest.
"What do you mean, hide them? I can't hide them!" she snorted.
"Can't you squash them down?" he asked.
"No, I can't squash them down. They're not deflatable," she scoffed. "You're a virgin, aren't you?"
He flushed scarlet but made no answer. Instead he said, "Alright, let's go. And stay close." With a last look around, they crept outside and locked the door behind them.
The escape would've been flawless had it not been for the tea. They were inside the stables readying the horses when the sentry who'd escorted Telvryn to his post returned with the tea he'd promised. Seeing no one at the door, he'd grown suspicious. As he drew closer and saw a faint trail of blood beginning at the door and leading inward, he'd dropped the tea and rushed forward, pounding on the door with all his might. When the groggy guard had answered his frantic hammerings with a cry of "Escape!," he'd fled the castle to spread the news.
He now stood in the middle of the street outside the castle, eyes wild with urgency. "Escape!" he bugled, "Lady Saryn has escaped." Instantly the barracks sprang to life as soldiers hurried to intercept the escapees.
"Bloody hell!" cried Saryn, leaping astride the impatient Rhydon. "We have to make it to the gates before they close them. Hurry, Rhydon, hurry!"
She and Telvryn shot out of the stables and veered toward the imposing stone gates of Rivendell. The path to reach them was a half-mile long curve lined with immense oak trees that concealed the vigilant sentries perched inside them. Once started down that path, they could not turn back. Saryn risked a glance behind her. A dozen soldiers now pursued them, some with bows drawn. There was no longer any choice. They must reach the gates or die.
She urged Rhydon on, digging her heels into his ribs and leaning as far forward as she could. "Ride hard," she breathed against his neck. Dust plumed and the path blurred beneath his hooves as they fled. Her breath was coming in short, ragged gasps, and she was nearly sobbing with fear and desperation. Behind her, the soldiers were gaining ground, and she knew the horse could go no faster. "We have to fire on them," she said, choking on the words in horror and shame. She drew her husband's bow.
"We can't do that! They're our own people!" he remonstrated.
"Elbereth forgive us, I know, but I have no intention of dying here. Will you take the front or the rear? Try not to kill them," she said, stifling a sob. Reluctantly, she trained her bow ahead of her and waited for the first sentry tree to come into view.
The horse skidded around the first curve, and a sentry tree swam into view. A young sentry was poised on the lowest branch, waiting to pierce her with an arrow. She released hers faster, and he toppled from the tree, an arrow in his ankle. Before he struck the ground, she turned and fired at the tree opposite. Its occupant plunged down, wounded in the hip. She yelped as though struck herself and sped on. Two pairs of sentry trees left.
Behind her she could hear agonized neighing as Telvryn fired upon the pursuing horses. She spared a quick glance over her shoulder. A horse crumpled to the dirt, mortally wounded with an arrow in the neck. Its rider catapulted forward and landed with a wet snap, his shoulder broken. He screamed in agony, and she followed suit, half-mad with guilt. "Lord Elbereth, forgive me for this madness and hurt, but I have no choice," she wailed, her chest heaving. But she did not stop.
The second set of sentries drew near, and she fired upon them, striking them in the thigh and shoulder. She brayed louder, squeezing her eyes shut against the carnage she was causing. The number of pursuers had dwindled to four, but still they came, and simultaneously blessed them for their bravery and cursed them for it.
Both the last pair of sentry trees and the blessed gates could now be seen. She could see the guardian elves working feverishly to close the mammoth gates, their backs and shoulders bunching with effort as they struggled with the great wooden crank that operated the gates. The were strong and disciplined, and the gates were now less than halfway open. "Telvryn," she screamed, "stop that chain! Keep them from closing the gates."
She felt Telvryn pass her as she fitted her bow. The first shot clipped the sentry in the knee, but the second, blurred by tears and terror, veered from its intended target and struck the young sentry in the neck. "NOOO!" she screamed, leaping from her moving steed and scrambling to where the young elf lay sprawled in the bloodstained earth. He was clutching his throat and gurgling. Bright red blood was foaming from his lips and dribbling down his chin. He's drowning in his own blood, she thought as she dropped to her knees beside him. His eyes were wide and bright with pain and fear. They were a bright green, the color of polished emeralds.
"This I did not intend," she wept, hovering over him. He cringed away from her, more blood pouring from his lips. His breath was coming in shallow, watery hitches. He didn't have much time. Pulling herself together, she slid her arms beneath him and struggled to pick him up. He fought feebly but was too weak from blood loss to put up much resistance. "Rhydon," she called.
The noble beast, never far from its master, responded to her call and appeared at her side. She tried to heave the nearly lifeless elf onto his back, but he was too heavy. "Help me, Rhydon," she gasped. She felt a warning twinge of pain in her stomach from the child growing inside her. She took a deep breath, and the pain slowly faded. The horse knelt down, and she draped the young elf over his back. She was about to mount herself when she heard the thunder of hoofbeats behind her. There wasn't time. "Take him away, Rhydon!" she commanded, tapping him on his flank. The horse rose and bolted toward the gate, and she turned to face her pursuers.
They were nearly on top of her. She turned and ran for her life, lithe legs pistoning as she sprinted the last fifty yards to the gate. Ahead of her, she could see Telvryn gesturing frantically for her to hurry.
"Run, Saryn!" he screamed. "They're coming!" She could feel the horses' hot breath on her neck as the her feet pounded the dry ground. There was a hot stitch in her side, and another stab of pain gripped her belly, making her cry out. She could see Telvryn raising his bow. She felt the wind as the arrow passed millimeters over her head to embed itself in horseflesh. She heard an anguished bleat from the poor horse and a muffled thud, but she dared not look back. She was exhausted, her legs burning with exertion. The stitch in her side had grown serrated teeth and was tearing through her side like poison fire. She was bawling helplessly, black spots dancing before eyes.
Then Telvryn's slender hand was pulling her through the gates and out of Rivendell. They had escaped.