Disclaimer: I do not own any of the places, people or most things in this story. I do how ever own the character Isilyia, her horse and any other things that you do not recognize from the genius work of J.R.R Tolkien.
Authors Note: Sorry it took soooo long to update!!! This like my first like good story! Lol I've writing a few fanfics, but they've never really gone anywhere! So uh yeah…have fun reading!^_^
Cold Blood
Ch 2:
Saddle SoreThe Lady of the Light
Cujo_luver_forever31@yahoo.ca
Isilyia awoke in the morning to a soft muzzle and warm breath caressing her face. Yawning she pushed the black colored muzzle away from her, sitting up she rubbed her eyes, clearing the sleep away from them. It was already late into the morning and she had slept late, once again. –Sleep, a wonderful thing, when you can get some that is!-
The embers of the fire were still glowing a faint red as her boot came in contact with them, ridding them of the faint warmth that penetrated the coldness of the morning. Sighing she up disposed of the remains of the fire and rolled up her sleeping bag, placing it securely behind Eltiriel's saddle. Looking once again at the position of the sun, she saw that it was now nearing noon. –What? Now I have to eat in the saddle too?- She sighed as she mounted up, and leaned back, pulling a piece of now stale bread and cheese out of her bag.
=Well Eltiriel, we're off again! We have a lot of distance to cover in such a short time!= She said laughing lightly as she nudged the mare into a slow canter, before picking a gallop, the mares sharp hooves tearing at the herbage growing below, pulling them from their roots.
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Hours later she was sitting back to a tree. A few minutes earlier she had met a small group of orcs, though she had ridden herself of them, scratches and bruises battered her arms, and face, and blood soaked through her clothing, were an arrow had skinned the top of her shoulder, she had been lucky though, that it was not a heavily armed hunting group, but a group of four or five scouts, looking for a save path for a much larger group to pass. They had driven her off course though, and cost her several hours off her journey. A sigh of annoyance escaped her, for she could not go on now, it was nearing dusk already, and some of her wounds, though minor, were still left unattended. Sighing once again, she leaned her head back against the tree, perhaps to get some rest…her eyes lay open and she could see the raven form of Eltiriel near by.
The forest was quiet behind her as her eyes closed hoping for a few moments of peace, but her instincts would not leave her be, something was wrong, troubling the nature around her, the birds had stopped their annoying chirping, the rustling of the small creatures had stopped, even Eltiriel seemed oddly quiet. Standing from her rather comfortable position, she looked around, emerald orbs scanning the forest around her, looking for signs of intruders or a reason for the silence. Suddenly thudding boots reached her ears, the group of orcs had found her trail. A frantic call was emitted for Eltiriel and the saddle was hastily thrown on and done up, as the orcs approached, mounting up she kicked the mare into action, racing through the trees.
The dark brown of the trees flew past her in blur, branches stuck out, scratching her body as she raced away from the thundering feet and the quieter sound of pounding hooves. Black arrows started to pierce the air around her, hitting trees and ground, forcing the elf to lie flat against her mount, pressing to her neck.
The forest opened up into a valley, rivers blocking her path. Rearing the mare turned back, trying to run back into the dark forest, it took all of Isiyia's strength to keep her from charging back the way they had come. The boots thundered closer, new sounds of metal swords being drawn from their master's belt, the twang of arrows being released from bows. Panic took over and she franticly pulled at the reins trying to get the beast underneath her to obey her.
The black arrows of the orcs flew closer to their target now, some hitting the ground behind her, others hitting the river in front of her, the rest stopped in-between the two. The raven mare settled a bit, and stopped trying to run back the way they had come. Though she had been trained to fight when out numbered, she could not risk fighting a group of this size, for it would cost her Marjory.
Turning in the saddle to look back on the position of the orcs, an arrow found its target, buried deep into her side. Gasping at the pain she grabbed blindly at Eltiriels mane to keep from falling to the ground, she kicked vainly at the mares sides, trying to get her to move, anywhere. The last thing she saw before losing consciences was a black form approaching from the distance.
A/N: yaya, I know it was bad^.^…I'll probably revise it when I'm done…lol if I get that far @_@…any who…-gives cookies to the loyal reviewers ad pulls plate back from the ones who had not yet hit that little button- hehe me B-Days the 19th!! Any guess how old I am?;)
