Chapter 11 – First Assault

Two sunsets passed by on the advancing party and the Running was no longer in sight. Oriah had apologized for her carelessness at the river and most of the party pushed the event out of their heads. Narla received endless gratitude and even more respect from Oriah and the two of them were as close as sisters. However, tension between Narla and Legolas had not eased. The two of them tried not to speak to each other and Mirgom wished that they could patch up, for when they did speak, sarcasm flew around like daggers.

On the third morning away from the Running they came to the borders of the Lonely Mountain. Ahead of them was a rocky landscape of stones and few shrubbery. Across the plain was the tall mountain range of the Iron Hills. Everyone was heartened by the fact that they had completed the first phase of their journey. By noon the party had crossed a good distance. They stopped near a small stream and refilled their vigor. The horses needed to quench their thirst as well.

Suddenly the Elves perked up their ears and straightened. The others were told to stay still and listen. Irthal and Vortayn concentrated on hearing what was happening and soon enough, they heard footsteps, running steps. The horses had started neighing loudly and almost ran away if Mirgom had not soothed them still. Narla and Oriah were the last to hear the noises and they stiffened.

"Orcs?" asked Irthal as she withdrew her swords.

"Nay, not orcs," replied Calegris, stepping towards the noise with his bow and arrow ready. "They are smaller, and faster. Imps! And they are not a friendly crowd!"

Indeed, as the noise drew near from the north Narla could make out dark brown shapes hurtling fast towards the party. They had been informed by Gimli that imps dwelled in the western part of the Iron Hills, but they had never caused much trouble, to the dwarves anyway. Legolas and Calegris stood beside the messengers, all with their weapons ready. Mirgom calmed the horses and he readied his bow and arrow. Behind stood Narla and Oriah, Narla with Gaildryn drawn out and Oriah with her staff, Winger.

"What do they want with us? We disturb not them nor do we carry any treasure!" cried Oriah as she stood behind Narla.

"Perhaps they deem the gem worthy as treasure," spoke Vortayn in a low voice.

For the first time, the party had heard him speak to someone else other than Irthal. He had raised his scimitar and with his long hair loose in the wind, Vortayn looked almost like a classic barbarian. He stood poised and ready for the imps with no fear, nor any other expression on his stern features. Then as the imps closed in Vortayn made a warrior cry and attacked.

It seemed at first that the four who stood in front created a barrier for the imps. Arrows sung and blades clashed and soon a wall of bodies laid in front of them. However, the imps were plenty and soon some of them managed to get around to the back. Mirgom alone could not shoot them all and they drew nearer towards the easy prey behind.

_________

Oriah was frightened and looked like she was about to cry. Sooner or later she was bound to collapse on her knees. Narla was just as terrified and though her blade gleamed gloriously, her hands trembled. She had never expected to fight these malicious looking creatures, especially without help. Five imps sneered gleefully at the two of them even when their kindred were being slaughtered. They were short creatures with brown attire, or was it skin? With large bulging eyes and a wide ear-to-ear mouth, they were grotesque. Each carried a rusted weapon, ripped off from their previous prey. While four of them circled them both, one of them drew towards Narla.

Startled, Narla jumped back as a long blade swung down on her. As though her hands were being commanded by Gaildryn, Narla thrust her blade into the imp's chest with all her might. The sorrowful creature fell with a horrible wail. Seeing that they had sparkled a flame, the other imps attacked altogether. Oriah came out of her trance just in time to dodge a blade aimed for her neck and nimbly avoided the enemies, though she did not dare to attack back. So Narla was left with all the dirty work, slashing about as she tried to evade the deadly strikes. Perhaps it was the blood of the imps, but Narla felt her blade getting heavier, and a familiar sting on her chest. Soon two of the remaining imps were dead, not by skill but by luck. Narla panted and lifted her blade once more, though she did not know how long she could endure. Just then, she noticed that an imp was sneaking around the back of Oriah while the other was distracting her. With no more energy to shout, Narla took her last effort to throw herself onto the ambushing imp, Gaildryn stabbing right through him. But before they fell, the imp managed to cut Narla's waist though it was aimed for her torso. It then screamed in anguish and crashed onto the ground, black liquid oozing around it on the ground. Oriah turned around to see what had happened, and the last imp drew up its blade. A swoosh was heard and the last of the creatures fell backwards with an arrow on its forehead.

Legolas ran forth to Narla. Oriah had bent over, stopping the blood with her cloak as she took some white powder from one of her pouches and dabbed it on the wound. He kneeled by Narla and lifted her head, and he saw clearly the signs of suffering on her face. The blade was not only rusted, but it was poisoned. Oriah had not the antidote with her, and though Narla's wound was bound up, her face still bore pain and fever flooded through her. Turning anxiously at Oriah, Legolas searched for signs of hope in her eyes. However, Oriah knew the sort of poison it was, and that its cure was rare and hard to find. Unless the victim had a very strong will to live, he/she would die in a day's time. Legolas looked helplessly at Narla's now heated face. If a Marked One could not heal her, then no Elf could. Legolas had sworn to protect her, yet now she was in peril. He must seek the antidote, no matter the cost.

Legolas held Narla as he spoke softly in Elvish and her face slowly ceased to crease in pain, and seemed to be asleep if not for the red cheeks. Picking her up, he moved across the piles of bodies and blood towards the rest of the party. All imps were killed, but everyone was still alert for more danger. Oriah followed behind carrying the bloodied Gaildryn, wiping her teary face with her sleeve. Mirgom and Irthal saw Narla unconscious and hurried over to know what happened.

"It is all my fault!" cried Mirgom in guilt. "I should have guarded them with my life!"

"It is none's fault, Mirgom," comforted Legolas. Turning to Irthal he asked, "Is there no folk around here?"

"No, Legolas, I know not of any man dwelling here," replied Irthal, but she paused and pondered for a moment. "But I have heard of a halfling village south east from here long ago. It is said that they did not welcome visitors and thus were left alone. We never knew what became of them or if they still dwell there. Do you suppose that you would-"

"Aye, Irthal, I shall take one of the horses and seek the village if it exists," cut in Legolas, already shifting the load from one of the horses to the other.

"But Legolas," said Oriah, clearly disagreeing with him. "We know not if the folk there holds the cure and Narla may not be able to endure until you return!"

However, Legolas was not to be put off, "Then I will bring her with me! We shall meet again at the bottom of the Iron Hills by Carnen, the Red Water! Be safe, my friends!"

With that Legolas lifted Narla, wrapped in her cloak with Gaildryn sheathed once again, onto the bareback horse with her head on its mane and leapt up. Before anyone could protest he urged the horse in Elvish and sped off towards the southern plains, holding Narla in his arms.

Author's Notes: Thanks to all those who have read and reviewed, and I'll do my best for this fic! Keep the comments coming! And yeah, the romance will progress soon...soon~