Disclaimers - See Chapter One for all pertinent info
A/N - If you find mistakes in this publication, please consider that they are there for a purpose. I publish something for everyone… and some people are always looking for mistakes.
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Both Angel and her attacker landed on the ground beneath them with a bone-jarring thud. The instinct and training kicked in and she flipped her attacker over her head. Using the momentum, Angel flipped up onto her feet and spun around. Her opponent too had recovered and was on his feet. She studied him a moment as he assessed her in return. For a moment she could see the flicker of fear in his eyes. He knew of The SwordDancer it seemed. Unfortunately, time was not with her. Kali had been with him and she would follow him through the portal. "I am sorry," she whispered as both hands shot up, wrists snapping fluidly as little slivers of metal sped at his throat.
A gurgling sound was heard as the throwing needles found home in the soft tissue of his throat. The blood of the wound poured into his esophagus, choking him instantly. Within moments of his attack, the young man lay dead on the ground as Angel now knelt over him. One by one she retrieved the needles and secreted them away on her person for another time. Kali would be near, if she followed through the portal. Deep inside she knew that the old man was dead, another life taken, another death on her hands. Taking in a deep breath, she dragged the body under an outcropping of rocks and turned in the direction she believed south to be.
Unfortunately, she really had no way or knowing which direction was south. The full moon was high overhead, more than likely midnight if she had to guess at a time. The only real way of telling was to wait and see which direction the moon drifted, then turn south from there. But, she did not feel particularly comfortable standing in the open bathed in moonlight for anyone to see - especially if Kali had followed her. Another quick survey of the land revealed an outcropping of boulders not too far away. It might be safe enough to wait out the moon's travels. After all, the old man did not say she had to rush to this city of Edoras. One night would not make too distinct a difference.
Shouldering her pack again, she set off for the outcropping at a steady pace. However, she had traveled no more than a few yards when she heard a slight thunder in the distance. But that was not thunder, it was too steady and too rhythmic to be the brewing of a storm. The sky was clear and the wind was still save for the occasional flutter. No… something approached. Standing stock still for a moment, Angel listened with a keen ear for the direction that the noise came. It was growing louder, the ground under her feet trembling as it came closer. What the hell was that? She turned around, facing the direction she had just come from … that was the direction the rumble approached from.
Too soon Angel had her answer. A horse and rider appeared from the far edge, soon followed by more. A quick calculation put the number at no more than fifteen to twenty, but they were moving too fast and too close together for her to get an accurate account. The people riding the horses wore armor and armed with spears, with some carried banners, all of them took notice of her, slowing down and reining in their horses circling her in. She did not move, did not give them reason to be wary of her. The spear tips lowered and the ring of horses closed in tightly around her. This was not going well so far. In a gesture of good faith, she slowly leaned her staff against her shoulder and raised her hands to plain view so that they might see she was not preparing for a strike against them.
Éomer watched the woman from his horse. The clear and silver light from the full moon overhead allowed him to see her as if the sun was at it's highest. The Rohirrim surrounded her yet she remained calm and collected even as the points of twenty spears leveled at her heart. The only thing to give him pause in confronting her was the two swords sashed to her waist and the dagger strapped to her thigh. This woman was not of Rohan, nor was she of Gondor. That knowledge was certain in his mind as he dismounted and motioned for the Rohirrim to ease their guard.
He approached her cautiously, staying to her left side – the side nearest her staff. If she were foolish enough to attempt a strike, he could disarm her in a matter of moments. Should the unlikely happen and she succeeded in felling him, she would be subdued or killed immediately. What harm could she do? After giving her a thorough once-over, he spoke up. "What business do you have here?"
Angel turned to face authoritative voice to her left. She kept her body square with the man in front of her and remained aware of the men surrounding her. Her eyes fell on the tall and broad shouldered man speaking to her. He was, in her guess, roughly six feet in height. Long blonde hair trailed from under the helmet and intense brown eyes stared back at her. His armor and bearing certainly gave the impression that he was the commander of this group. "I'm merely walking. Is that a crime?"
Éomer's eyes narrowed at her arrogant tone. He looked her over again, noting more about her that he had not seen from his horse. She carried a leather wrapped walking staff decorated with metal studs in one hand. The top was tipped with a smooth round black stone. It was not nearly as tall as she was, her own height inches shorter than his. Her clothing, at first thought to be leather was not, at least none that he had seen so far. Her black cloak was thrown over her shoulders, partially covering a pack on her shoulder yet allowing every one else present to see her clearly - save for her face. The deep hood was still pulled over her head and obscured everything save for her nose, mouth and chin from view. "You go walking about bearing swords and knives strapped to yourself, without escort, and you cover yourself as if an assassin or ally of the dark. Answer my question woman."
She felt a lick of irritation burning in her throat at his demands. He could have asked nicely! A growl curled her lip as she looked at him, then flicked her eyes back to the men in front of her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and centered herself, willing the annoyance away so that she could deal with these men rationally. Angel forced herself to remember that these were not the type of men she was used to dealing with and this was not her world. It would suit her better to stay out of trouble as much as possible. "I am trying to find a shelter in which I can pass the night." She nodded to the cluster of boulders she had been trying to reach. "Let me pass and be on my way." She shifted slowly and gripped her staff loosely in her left hand, her right still held up in surrender. One wrong move and she might end up skewered. But, by the same token she did not have time for this delay. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder to see if Kali stood nearby watching.
Éomer raised one eyebrow and let out a breath. He nodded and the horsemen backed away, leaving him to face her. "We cannot allow you to continue alone. Strange men roam the lands and the danger is tenfold at night. I am not convinced you are not here for some ill purpose. To that end, you will remain in our keeping until I discover why you are truly here. Bring her." At his decision, two men slid down from their horses and started towards her.
Before he'd spoken the order, Angel knew what he would say. Shifting her stance, she flipped the bottom of the staff up towards his chin. He stepped back from her as the other two advanced on her. Stepping to her right, she swung the butt of her staff around, crushing it against the visor of the first man's helmet and knocking him onto his back. Following through with her momentum, she ducked under a sword and spun on the ball of her foot, the knobbed end of her staff swinging forcibly up between the second man's thighs. Rising and returning to her original form, Angel shifted her right hand to grip just above the rounded hilt-like grip as she turned to face the blonde man.
He'd seen the swiftness and precision of her attack, but was stunned that a woman could do such a thing. Granted, the women of Rohan did know how to wield a blade, but none with the likeness of what he had just seen. Her style and speed was reminiscent of the Elves. Grasping his own sword, he stepped forward to engage only to find himself at sword-point after a flash of silver had arced in the clear moonlight. Immediately he released his grip and raised his hands slowly to show he would not draw. It was difficult at best to draw a breath for the razor tip of her strange sword pressed into the soft underside of his chin. As they faced each other, he took careful stock of the situation. She was turned directly towards him, her position was that of a well-formed lunge with her left arm held straight behind her and a gloved hand still gripping the lower portion of her black staff. The remaining portion of the staff was gripped in her right hand, thrust straight ahead of her as she snarled up at him from her lunge position, the straight of the blade extending her reach another three feet to the underside of his chin where the tip now pressed ominously. He would never have guessed that a walking staff could have concealed a small sword. The remaining riders closed in upon seeing the imminent danger, their spear tips close enough to her to snag the fabric of her cloak.
"Call them off," she hissed, mouth curled in a feral snarl. "or you die." Her heart was hammering in her chest - not from the attack or defense, but from the pending possibility of having to kill this man. She hadn't wanted this to happen just yet, hadn't wanted a confrontation at all. But he wouldn't let her pass on her way. Stupid man. However, this close she could get a better look at him. It'd be a shame to kill such a handsome man. Shaking herself of that thought, she forced herself to remember that if the situations were reversed, he would not give a second thought to killing her. Angel scowled up at him, giving a little nudge of the tip at his throat to push her order. She heard the sharp hiss of pain and watched as he waived off the men holding spears on her, a thick droplet of blood oozing down the tip of her sword. It pained her to a small degree to have had to draw his blood, but it was necessary. Perhaps it could be forgiven in time. When she felt comfortable enough with their retreat, she pulled the sword away and slid it back into her staff, the wood meeting the steel hilt with a solid thump. Righting herself, she nodded and took a deep breath. "Now, I will be on my way."
Éomer frowned and snapped his gloved fingers. The men pressed in again, drawing the woman back at spear point. "I do not think so." He rubbed the underside of his chin, the sting melting into a soft throb. If she drew blood, there would be an answering for it later. "My words stand as before - you will come with us." He walked around, stopping in front of her as he placed the helmet back on his head and glared down at her. She lifted her hooded head, the fabric slithering back on her head enough to see her eyes as she met his gaze with an equal steel and defiant glare. Without a word he reached out and took the staff from her hands, handing it off to one of the men that was recouping from her attack. He then reached down and removed the swords from her waist and the dagger from her thigh. "Bind her hands," he said, voice firm as he jerked the pack from her left shoulder.
Angel felt two men clap hold of her shoulders and arms. A guttural growl escaped her lips as she watched him mount his horse and look down at her. She felt the leather bindings tied around her wrists before she was turned around and lifted up to him. He held her in front of him, trapped by his arms as he reached out and grasped the reins of his horse. Blind anger washed over her at this new predicament and she lashed out, twisting her body as she jerked her right elbow into his chest. Immediately a jarring pain spread through her arm and she clenched her teeth together to stifle the hiss of pain. She'd hit her funny bone and now her fingers were alternating between numb and tingling in pain.
Éomer chuckled silently to himself as he watched her curl over slightly. He'd felt the light thump in his lower chest. The blow had been deflected by his armor, thankfully. After witnessing her prowess at fighting moments before, he had no doubt that if he'd been unprotected he'd be gasping for breath right now. He kicked his horse gently and moved out ahead of the Rohirrim, Edoras and the Golden Hall their destination. If they rode hard and did not stop, they would reach home before the dawn broke upon them.