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Liah whirled around, and saw the kindly face of Gandalf staring with pity down at her. "Why weren't you here?" Liah screamed at him. "You could've stopped this! Where were you?"

"Liah-" he began in his soft calm voice.

"You don't even care! You don't care that my sister is dead!"

Then Liah saw the tears in his grey eyes, and said, in a hoarse whisper: "Why weren't you here?"

"I'm sorry Liah, I came as quickly as I could. You know I would've prevented this if I could've."

Liah laid her sister's head gently down and kissed her brow. "Sleep in peace, my sister," she whispered.

Then she stood up, and Gandalf embraced her, and she found herself crying again. "I wasn't strong enough," she whispered.

"No, Liah, never think that," Gandalf reprimanded her. "You were strong beyond belief, given your enemies. Now, I need you to be strong once again. I need you to journey to Rivendell, to the House of Elrond. You are no longer safe here, and Rivendell is the closest haven that can shelter you. Go to your house, and pack clothes and food. Then return here, and I will direct you on your path."

"Father!" Liah cried, "Where is Father?"

"Go, Liah, prepare for your journey. I promise you, I will find your father."

Liah nodded dumbly, and stumbled off to her house. Gandalf shook his head sadly. That young woman had just witnessed the slaughter of her entire village, and he knew that when he did find Ian the blacksmith, he would not be alive.

Liah, once in the house, quickly shoved all her boys' clothes into a pack, and grabbed the buns. She wrapped them in a cloth, and, along with dried fruit and meat, and a water skin, put them in the bag. She was about to leave, when, on an instinct, she grabbed the scythe-weapon. Then she ran out of the empty building. She grabbed her sword as she passed by the place where Wil lay, and tried to avert her eyes from the mangled bodies of the orc victims.

Once she reached Gandalf, she said, "Did you find him?"

"I found him, yes, and buried him."

The last flicker of hope faded from Liah's eyes. "My entire family is dead then. I am an orphan. I will go to Rivendell, and train, until I am the best sword fighter in Middle Earth. Then I will kill every last orc." She turned to Gandalf. "Tell me the way."

"You must head south, til you find the Old Forest Road. Head west along it, through Mirkwood. Once you reach the crossing of Anduin, the Great River, the road will lead you through mountains. Once you have passed through the mountains, you will come upon Rivendell. There, you will be safe." Gandalf paused, and called out, "Shadowfax, Linta, come." A white stallion and a dark grey mare trotted out from behind a house. Gandalf took the grey's reins and handed them to Liah. "This is Linta, a horse of Rohan. Her name means 'swift' in the Elvish tongue. Indeed, let us hope that she bears you as well as her name would imply. Now, repeat to me the passage to Rivendell."

"You're not going with me?" Liah asked with surprise, "Why not?"

"I must journey now to Isengard, to take council with the head of my order. There is a grave matter of which I must speak with him. Now, repeat it to me."

"I have to go south from this mountain to the Old Forest Road, then follow it west. Once I cross the Anduin river, it will lead me through mountains, and then I will come upon Rivendell."

"Very good, now farewell Liah, let us hope that we will meet again." And with that, he mounted his own horse and galloped off down the mountain.

"Linta," Liah whispered. The horse turned her head and blinked, and rubbed her great nose on Liah's shoulder. "I will ride, but first I must bury my friends, and dispose of the foul orc bodies." And so the rest of the day passed, with Liah piling and burning dead orcs and digging rows of graves for the slain villagers. The sun was setting as she finished, but Liah had no wish to remain in a village of the dead for a night. So, with Fenwyne's bow, her mother's weapon, her sword, food and clothing which were stored in a saddle bag, and Linta, Liah set off from the village which she had spent her sixteen years at. She didn't look back.

It was fully nighttime by the time Liah found the Old Forest Road. Or at least a small path through Mirkwood that would lead her to it. She found a small clearing directly off the path, and decided to spend the night there. As she lay on the ground, she cried again, remembering each of the villagers, and most of all, Fenwyne and Ian. It was very late before her eyes finally closed and she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning and day passed uneventfully, with Liah finding the road, and following it west. Linta was a good horse, and Liah found herself talking to the animal. Linta was a better listener than most people Liah knew, her main point being that she didn't criticise, all she did was twist her head around and look back at you with her big grey eyes.

Liah was in no particular hurry to reach Rivendell, so she went slowly, letting Linta go at her own pace. They went on like this for three days, and Liah guessed that she was about half-way through Mirkwood. Her food was almost gone, and so, on the evening of the third day, she went off into the woods around the road to forage for food.

She found a patch of some kind of berry, and gathered as much as she could carry on her own. Suddenly, she heard Linta give an alarmed whinny. Liah dropped her berries and ran back to the road. There she saw five men, three of whom were trying to calm Linta down, and the other two were keeping watch. One of them saw her right away, and he nudged his companion in the ribs with a grin.

"Well, well, what have we here?" he said, grinning at Liah.

"Excuse me, but that's my horse. She's frightened, please, leave her alone," Liah said, trying to sound helpless and scared.

"She was your horse, you mean," one of the men said. "This one's a fine war-horse, worth almost as much as you are."

The man who had spotted Liah first moved closer, and made as if to grab her arm, but Liah kicked him squarely in the stomach, and drew her sword from its scabbard. "Let her go," she said angrily, pointing its tip at who Liah guessed was the leader. "Or things will go worse for you."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "So, dangerous as well as beautiful. Get her."

The three men still standing drew their swords, and one, the oldest said, "We wouldn't want to hurt you, lovely, so just put down your sword, surrender, and we promise not to hurt you."

"Why would I trust the promise of a brigand such as you?" And then Liah attacked. She zeroed in on one, the weakest swordsman clearly. She flicked the point of her sword towards his eyes, and when he raised his blade in defence, she jumped forwards and clubbed him on the head with the hilt. "One down, four to go," she muttered. She pushed her hair back, out of her face, and the man she had kicked yelped:

"Groln, she's an elf!"

Groln, who was the leader, stared in shock at Liah and said, "Why, so she is! This one's worth mountains of gold! Take her alive, boys, and no scratches on her pretty face."

The two men circled around Liah, and the man she had kicked backed away, and drew his own weapon from his belt: a huge axe. Without warning, the older, more experienced swordsman attacked, and then so did the other one. Liah was drawn into a more intense battle than anything she had ever experienced before. Every time she blocked one attack, she was forced to whip her sword around and block another one; she was completely defensive, and had no time to attack. Then the axeman joined the fight, and Liah knew there was no way she could win.

She held out for about five more minutes, and even knocked the weaker swordsman out. But then her sword was knocked out of her hands, and the axeman pressed his weapon against her neck. "Good fight, girl, but you were clearly the inferior warrior. Now don't move unless you want to lose your head."

Liah glared at him. "I'd rather die than be held captive by you," she spat.

"You would, but it's not up to me," the man said calmly, and he clubbed her on the head.

When Liah regained consciousness, she was lying, tied up, by a fire. The brigands were sitting around it, eating some kind of meat. There were also several other men, lighter of hair and skin than her captors, who were swarthy and dark. "Hey boys, she's awake!" this came from the axeman. "I was beginning to think I'd hit you too hard."

Then one of the newcomers crossed around the fire and crouched by Liah. "I've purchased you, so you are now my property. Can I trust you not to run away if I untie you?"

"No," Liah told him truthfully. "If you untied me, I would run away."

The man sighed. "I'm sure you would be much more comfortable. If you cooperate with me, your life will become much better than it is now, one day I might even free you."

"I'd believe that when it happens."

"Which will be never if you keep up this behaviour. I reward my slaves for good behaviour, as I told you, but I do not allow behaviour such as yours to go unpunished." Saying this, he got up and walked back to his companions. He nodded to one, a tall, angry-looking middle-aged man. He stood up and walked over to Liah, and removed something from his belt. Liah almost cried when she saw what it was: a whip.

She clenched her teeth, and determinedly didn't cry out. The whipping lasted for what felt like forever, and when it finally stopped, Liah was sure her back was raw and bloody. "This is what happens to those who disobey me. Understand?" someone whispered into her ear.

Liah cried herself to sleep that night.