Chapter 16

Coming seemingly out of nowhere was a sword that landed in her long, strong suede skirt. The tough material that had armored her against blows of a sword had now been pinned to the ground by the same weapon, keeping her captive. It was then that her assailant was seen; an orc of a green color and of faded eyes approached her in a cocky manner, with all the arrogance and pride of a hunter with a prize kill. But this elk had not been killed yet.

His mouth smiled, displaying black teeth surrounded by black mucus.

"Indeed one that I shall enjoy killing, me thinks." He spat, watching Aura squirm slightly more as he approached. She tugged and tugged at the material, and then at the sword, neither which would move. She could not scream for help, she could not find her voice; she could not fight for long, for she could neither advance nor back away without falling. She lifted her sword in defense, hoping to be able to fend off the orc until help was available, but the fear stiffened her, and her defense was much more transparent.

The orc approached her slowly in hope to look menacing, which he did, and slowly twirled his sword.

"Slowly, me thinks, pain is what yous deserves," he contemplated, raising his sword. Aura readied herself for her death, her sword still raised, but her insides cringed. However, she never felt the cold steel for the creature never swung. Instead, a shrill shriek was heard and the orc head tumbled to the ground. Legolas stood over the crumpled body while Eomyr rushed to Aura's side, holding her up while he removed the sword from the skirt. Just as Aura was a bout to breathe her thanks to the both, she realized the battle was not over.

Orcs still surrounded the five warriors and still fought with every ounce of strength they owned. Her body beginning to tire slightly but her spirit still strong, Aura ran into the middle of the horde and slashed all the beings that opposed. The once heavy crowd was quickly thinned by point of sword and Aura had the honor of sending the last orc head rolling.

Then, there was silence. Five beings stood amongst fifty dead. They all looked around, amazed by the amount of death in their presence. The battle was over, but a revolt had begun in Aura's stomach. She had only the time to run past the bodies, to lean against a large stone before she vomited over and over again. Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli, clearly worried, ran to her in a panic, leaving Eomyr to walk slowly, deep in thought.

He had earlier noticed her style of riding, which reminded him much of the riding of the Marque, and even more of his own. This stunned him at first, but it could have been a pure coincidence that he had taught a young princess of Gandarl who looked like she, long ago. The servant could have easily learned the ways from her mistress, however, now witnessing her ways of fighting, he saw the mirror image of Aragorn. Aragorn who had also only taught one girl, one princess his ways, the same princess that Eomyr had taught to ride, the princess of Gandarl.

"Aura," Legolas comforted her as he held her hair back, "are you alright?"

Aura spit the lasting vile taste to the ground and wiped her mouth.

"I'm fine," she said, a tear rolled down her cheek, "The stench…"

"I know, it was the same when I had fought my first battle," Aragorn told her softly, "It will be easier next time."

Aura now looked at both of them, teary-eyed.

"They fought as valiantly as us, only for a different cause," she said in a soft voice, which made Aragorn's go cold.

"They will not give you the same sympathy," he pause and looked deep into her young eyes; so naive, so willing to be just, so innocent and because of this, so vulnerable.

"It is not safe to remain here long," Legolas broke off, not understanding what emotions turmoiled within Aura. He looked around the horizon, finally saying, "We should gather the horses."

Aura wiped her tears on her sleeve, finding her brave smile and declared, "Easy enough."

She took in a deep breath, placed two fingers in the corners of her mouth and let out a loud whistle. The group waited mere seconds before a low rumbling was heard. Twenty hooves pounded their way down the rolling sandy hill, dancing between corpses, jumping over mounds of bodies, prancing happily to see their masters.

With much haste, the groups rode along the mountain chain, avoiding open areas where they may be easily seen. This mission suddenly became very real for Aura, the death made it living, and very dangerous. She felt that her own life might be taken as easily as she had taken those of the orcs and this made her very fearful. She felt cold at heart, in her mind, in her soul, already dead.

However, a noise, a movement, something caught Aura's attention, away from her dark thoughts, making her look to her right. Legolas had taken his bow, which had slung previously on his shoulder. He was aiming very carefully to the North West and afar; she could see his target. A simple man frantically riding his horse with a look of shear terror on his face.

"Run!" he screamed to point of fanaticism, "Run away as quickly as your horses may carry you. It is the end of all men!" he said, continuing to ride right at them.

First finding this man's folly amusing, now annoying, Aragorn shouted, "HALT!"

And Halt the horse did so abruptly that the man almost fell over his ride's neck.

"Who are you and what business do you have running around like a madman?" Aragorn demanded, barely heard over Gimli's chuckles.

"Laramin, son of Faramar and ORCS!" the man said in a thick out-of-breath brogue, "They are invading!"

"Oh yes! More of them!" Gimli gleefully shouted.

"They can't get enough of you, dwarf." Legolas laughed with his friend.

"Where are they?" Aragorn asked, ignoring the comrades' chatter.

"A weeks ride from Bree," the man answered.

"Good, we are only five days away. We may rest our horses here for the night." Aragorn announced, "We make for Bree in the morning."

Aura welcomed the chance to recollect her thoughts.