Wait for the Sunrise by Vané Alasse
Chapter Three We Will Meet Again
Falath walked ahead of her mother and sister, leading the way up the winding street. They walked as quickly as they could manage, which did not seem quick enough. As they wended higher into the city the street became clogged with others fleeing their homes. Slower and slower they progressed, with the rising heat and cacophony surging closer and closer to their backs. Falath turned around and saw flames licking the first circle of Minas Tirith. And beyond, on the fields of the Pelennor, she saw nothing but blackness and little red flames scattered far and wide. She could not see their enemy, but she could sense it.
Oh, yes. As soon as they had entered the street, so many slow footsteps behind now, she had felt it. A chill wafting like poisonous vapors. Her hands grew icy cold, and her feet felt hard and dead. The heat of fear swelled in her chest and rang in her head, but the frigidity that began to suffocate her heart took dominance.
A resounding boom signaled the assault on the second gate. Repeated bangs and crashes followed. Apprehension built in the crowd, and the refugees began to move with more speed and less precision.
Boom! Boom! The gates shook against the attack. With one last mighty crash they broke apart. Orcs and men from the south spilled through the opening.
Confusion ensued, and the mass of people began running in erratic courses every which way. Falath and Brethil, with her mother leaning on her arm, crouched together against a tall white wall.
"We must not stop here," whispered Brethil.
Falath agreed, "They will be here soon. Let us press on while we may. This is folly, but what other choice do we have? If there be wisdom to follow then I ask that you would open my eyes to see it, for I cannot."
Her mother looked into her daughter's eyes, and as Falath returned the gaze it seemed that she could see a glimmer of who her mother had been before the siege. Her mother smiled, a true, loving smile.
"That's my brave girl," she said.
"On then?" asked Brethil.
The others nodded, and they began to run up the hill. Swords clashed behind them. Hideous shrieks rose from the monsters at their heels. The enemy was gaining speed. But not without a fight. The men guarding the gate chased their foes up the streets and alleys, wielding their swords valiantly, though hopelessly outnumbered.
Falath glanced over her shoulder. The attackers were drawing close.
"Brethil, take this side street. Quickly! I will meet with you soon."
Brethil stared at her sister in shock. "Where are you going?"
"To cause a diversion."
"You will be killed!"
"Not a rash diversion, Brethil. I'm going to continue up the street. I will meet you at the summit. You cannot travel as quickly, and if I go alone I am more likely to be followed than you who will now be crawling in the shadowed back streets. Please, do as I ask."
"You know the risk you are taking?" said Brethil.
"Mine is no more a risk than yours," Falath replied.
"We will meet again," said her mother, squeezing her daughter's hand.
"Yes," said Falath. "Farewell."
Chapter Three We Will Meet Again
Falath walked ahead of her mother and sister, leading the way up the winding street. They walked as quickly as they could manage, which did not seem quick enough. As they wended higher into the city the street became clogged with others fleeing their homes. Slower and slower they progressed, with the rising heat and cacophony surging closer and closer to their backs. Falath turned around and saw flames licking the first circle of Minas Tirith. And beyond, on the fields of the Pelennor, she saw nothing but blackness and little red flames scattered far and wide. She could not see their enemy, but she could sense it.
Oh, yes. As soon as they had entered the street, so many slow footsteps behind now, she had felt it. A chill wafting like poisonous vapors. Her hands grew icy cold, and her feet felt hard and dead. The heat of fear swelled in her chest and rang in her head, but the frigidity that began to suffocate her heart took dominance.
A resounding boom signaled the assault on the second gate. Repeated bangs and crashes followed. Apprehension built in the crowd, and the refugees began to move with more speed and less precision.
Boom! Boom! The gates shook against the attack. With one last mighty crash they broke apart. Orcs and men from the south spilled through the opening.
Confusion ensued, and the mass of people began running in erratic courses every which way. Falath and Brethil, with her mother leaning on her arm, crouched together against a tall white wall.
"We must not stop here," whispered Brethil.
Falath agreed, "They will be here soon. Let us press on while we may. This is folly, but what other choice do we have? If there be wisdom to follow then I ask that you would open my eyes to see it, for I cannot."
Her mother looked into her daughter's eyes, and as Falath returned the gaze it seemed that she could see a glimmer of who her mother had been before the siege. Her mother smiled, a true, loving smile.
"That's my brave girl," she said.
"On then?" asked Brethil.
The others nodded, and they began to run up the hill. Swords clashed behind them. Hideous shrieks rose from the monsters at their heels. The enemy was gaining speed. But not without a fight. The men guarding the gate chased their foes up the streets and alleys, wielding their swords valiantly, though hopelessly outnumbered.
Falath glanced over her shoulder. The attackers were drawing close.
"Brethil, take this side street. Quickly! I will meet with you soon."
Brethil stared at her sister in shock. "Where are you going?"
"To cause a diversion."
"You will be killed!"
"Not a rash diversion, Brethil. I'm going to continue up the street. I will meet you at the summit. You cannot travel as quickly, and if I go alone I am more likely to be followed than you who will now be crawling in the shadowed back streets. Please, do as I ask."
"You know the risk you are taking?" said Brethil.
"Mine is no more a risk than yours," Falath replied.
"We will meet again," said her mother, squeezing her daughter's hand.
"Yes," said Falath. "Farewell."