In A Single Night
Chapter 1: Hama
Disclaimer: Middle Earth and the character Hama belong to JRR Tolkien, and JRR Tolkien alone.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
"Hama! Rode to the front and make sure the road is safe for the women and children."
"Yes, my Lord." At King Theoden's command I lift my youngest son who has been riding with me out of the saddle and into his mother's waiting arms. I tousle his straw colored hair with a gloved hand and spur my horse ahead.
I ride beside Fyrmund, another one of the King's men. "Have you seen signs of anything up ahead?" I inquire.
He shakes his head. "No. All's quiet. At this rate we should reach Helm's Deep by nightfall." My eyes expertly scan the hillsides for movement. Just as he said, nothing but grassy yellow hills and a long road stands between us and the old fortress that will keep the people of Edoras safe.
All I can hear is the pounding of horse hooves against the dirt road and the occasional murmur of conversation behind me. I see something out of the corner of my eye and turn my head sharply in that direction. A small blue bird flutters out of a nearby bush and sails away with the wind. It gives a light chirp before disappearing over the steep rocky hillside to my left.
Suddenly a foul smell greets my nose. I hear the bird's cry of terror and my eyes return to the last place that I saw it. There, crouching among the rocks, stands a mean looking warg and its orc rider. "Danger ahead!" I call out and reach to pull my sword out of its sheath. Before I am able to bring it up, the warg leaps towards me. My horse begins to run away but the dirty creature smashes into us and my horse topples to one side. I am thrown off and my sword flies from my hand, landing just out of reach. Fyrmund swings his sword in a wide arc and the orc's head rolls by me, an evil expression on its ugly face. I crawl towards my sword, only to come face to face with the warg that had killed my best horse. I reach for my sword but the effort is futile. Those huge yellow teeth, the horrible stench, and huge black eyes glowing with malice tell me one thing: I am going to die.
Chapter 1: Hama
Disclaimer: Middle Earth and the character Hama belong to JRR Tolkien, and JRR Tolkien alone.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
"Hama! Rode to the front and make sure the road is safe for the women and children."
"Yes, my Lord." At King Theoden's command I lift my youngest son who has been riding with me out of the saddle and into his mother's waiting arms. I tousle his straw colored hair with a gloved hand and spur my horse ahead.
I ride beside Fyrmund, another one of the King's men. "Have you seen signs of anything up ahead?" I inquire.
He shakes his head. "No. All's quiet. At this rate we should reach Helm's Deep by nightfall." My eyes expertly scan the hillsides for movement. Just as he said, nothing but grassy yellow hills and a long road stands between us and the old fortress that will keep the people of Edoras safe.
All I can hear is the pounding of horse hooves against the dirt road and the occasional murmur of conversation behind me. I see something out of the corner of my eye and turn my head sharply in that direction. A small blue bird flutters out of a nearby bush and sails away with the wind. It gives a light chirp before disappearing over the steep rocky hillside to my left.
Suddenly a foul smell greets my nose. I hear the bird's cry of terror and my eyes return to the last place that I saw it. There, crouching among the rocks, stands a mean looking warg and its orc rider. "Danger ahead!" I call out and reach to pull my sword out of its sheath. Before I am able to bring it up, the warg leaps towards me. My horse begins to run away but the dirty creature smashes into us and my horse topples to one side. I am thrown off and my sword flies from my hand, landing just out of reach. Fyrmund swings his sword in a wide arc and the orc's head rolls by me, an evil expression on its ugly face. I crawl towards my sword, only to come face to face with the warg that had killed my best horse. I reach for my sword but the effort is futile. Those huge yellow teeth, the horrible stench, and huge black eyes glowing with malice tell me one thing: I am going to die.