Eomer looked up at the sky and made a soft noise of frustration. Yes, there was a full moon, but there were clouds in the sky as well – clouds that kept obstructing the light. They'd made good time initially, but now, as they drew closer to the rocky area where the hills began, they were forced to go more slowly, or risk a horse stumbling.

"Tell me about the man we seek." Faramir's quiet voice interrupted his thoughts, and Eomer glanced over at the other man. They'd spoken little during the first part of the ride, intent on fast riding.

His voice was tight with renewed fury when he answered. "He was head cook during my uncle's reign. No one liked him, as he was mean and suspicious. But he could cook, and thus was allowed a certain amount of autonomy – more and more as the years went by and my uncle slipped further under the spell of Saruman. I dismissed him not long ago after he threatened Lisswyn for doing nothing more than walking into the kitchen, and afterward it came out that he has long been abusing and terrifying the kitchen maids, and murdered one who was unfortunate enough to be carrying his child as a result of the abuse."

"I see."

There was a wealth of understanding in Faramir's words, and Eomer knew that the other man did, indeed, see clearly what was before them, and the danger Lisswyn was in.

Silence fell and for several long moments, they concentrated on picking their way among the rocks on the path.

"Eowyn indicated that you've long thought it possible that there was someone in Edoras betraying you to the orcs."

Eomer nodded grimly. "Yes, and it has occurred to me that working in the kitchen, Hunlaf had access to many of my plans – he certainly knew when I left to survey the villages in the west and the general direction in which I planned to go."

"But to what purpose did he betray you? What did he hope to gain? If you had died in that orc attack, Rohan would still have had a queen."

"That, I do not know. But he was appointed as head cook while Wormtongue was still in control. That may be the best answer to that question. The rest of the men the Worm had with him left when he did, but no one considered Hunlaf to be a threat. He was simply a tempermental cook who turned out decent meals."

Faramir nodded, and silence descended again. Eomer looked up, toward the dark hills in front of them. Where was Lisswyn? Was she yet alive? Gravely injured? Even now being raped? Fear for her shuddered through him.

She was cold, shivering from it. And the trembling made the various aches hurt worse. The ground she was lying on was cold, damp, and hard. But where was she? And why was she on the ground in the first place?

Confused, Lisswyn forced her eyes open, and immediately wished she hadn't as she saw the men standing near her. Memory rushed back, and she quickly closed her eyes, hoping none of them had realized she was awake.

Full darkness had fallen while she was unconscious, making it impossible to tell for sure, but Hunlaf appeared to have about a dozen men with him. What were they doing out here, lurking so close to Edoras?

Another shiver moved through her and she clamped down on the whimper that wanted to escape. Her head was aching, both where Hunlaf had struck her and where she'd landed against the boulder, but a far worse pain was in her shoulders. It took a moment to realize that her arms weren't hurting, that in fact, she couldn't feel them at all. They were bound behind her back, so tightly they'd gone numb, at an angle that was agonizing for her shoulders. She didn't miss the significance of the fact that they'd bound her cruelly – much tighter than was necessary to prevent her from trying to defend herself. And they'd bound her legs as well.

Fear and despair twisted inside her. It would be hours before anyone raised any kind of alarm about her disappearance, as no one was likely to look for her before the evening meal. Andric knew she'd left the city, but he wouldn't necessarily be in the great hall at the same time as anyone else who might be looking for her. Hilde and Brynwyn could be preparing for bed before anyone really missed her. And once they did, how long would it take them to ask Andric if he'd seen her?

Or, for that matter, even once someone came out to the hills to look for her, would they be able to find Hunlaf's trail?

She tried to push back the fear. Perhaps Andric had mentioned seeing her as soon as he got back to Edoras. But that still left open the question of how long they'd wait for her to return before someone became alarmed. Before they started searching for her.

The men were speaking quietly, and she had to strain to hear them, but she gradually became aware of what they were saying. Apparently, they'd traveled some distance up into the hills while she was unconscious, and were now taking a break. Discussing their plans. Arguing about what to do with her.

Some of them simply wanted to kill her, maintaining that they didn't have the time to guard her. Some of them wanted to keep her with them, and the rude laughter made it clear why. And at least one of them wanted to leave her for an animal to find, make it look as if her death had been accidental. The last suggestion was met with derision and accusations of cowardice.

"She's been awake for quite some time," Hunlaf finally said, a smirk in his voice. "Let's see what she wants us to do with her."

He stalked over, leaned down as if to grab her and Lisswyn flinched. She couldn't help it – she was already sore, and could only imagine more pain coming. But she immediately regretted the response, regretted letting him see how he affected her.

His laughter was mocking and cruel as he rolled her over, on to her back, forced more pressure onto her arms. "Maybe you can be trained to be useful after all."

Lisswyn just stared at him, tried to force defiance into her eyes. It was hard when she wanted to weep from the pain in her shoulders.

"We saw Gondor ride away. Where was he going?"

She still didn't respond, as much out of confusion as boldness. Gondor? Ah. He must mean King Elessar.

Hunlaf's gaze darkened, and he reached down, pulled out a knife he had strapped to his lower leg. It was long and very sharp, and he smiled at it before turning his gaze back to her. The smile remained, but was now malicious.

"Knives were always my favorite kitchen tool. They're so useful." He brought the knife down, skimmed it down her body to the binds on her legs. "For example, I could reward you by freeing your legs… if you tell me what I want to know." He brought the knife up, touched it against the tip of her breast. "Or I can cause you great pain, if you don't. Where did Gondor go?"

The question scared her, and not just because of the implied torture if she didn't answer him. She didn't understand his interest in what was going on in Edoras. Would it be a bad thing or a good thing to tell him what she knew, which wasn't much? Would it help or hinder him?

"I see," he said, and forced mock regret into his voice. "You're not going to make it easy on yourself. Why doesn't that surprise me?" He lifted the blade, sliced with it.

Terrified, Lisswyn waited for the pain. When it didn't come, she looked down, and realized with a sick relief that he had only made a small cut in her dress.

He brought the knife back to rest against the tear he'd made. "Next time I press harder."

"I don't know where he was going." Despite her best efforts, her voice shook.

The knife moved again, and this time she felt its sting. "You have one more chance to tell me something useful."

Fear of the knife was too great. Desperately hoping she wasn't saying something that would give him some sort of advantage, she blurted out, "He and his men left with some of the men from the city who were going out to fell trees to rebuild. I don't know what else he was looking for. I really don't."

"How many men from the city were with him?" The knife still hovered, but was no longer resting against her.

"About twenty, I think. I really don't know. I wasn't there when they left." She was babbling, and her cowardice shamed her.

He sat back on his heels, stared at her, malice in his eyes. "There can not be that many men left in the city then. No matter who he sends after you, or even if he comes himself, the number won't be more than we can handle."

With the tip of the knife, he poked her several times. Not hard, not truly enough to hurt, apparently more as another warning, or for his own amusement.

Another whimper of fear escaped her, and his smile reappeared. "Don't worry. No permanent damage has been done, and when we stop for the night, I'll apply first aid myself, and then let the rest of men make sure I did a good job." He laughed at that, and then stood, strolled back over to where the others waited.

Shaking, Lisswyn tried to roll back over, desperately wanting to relieve the pressure on her shoulders as well as to curl protectively around herself. For all the good it would do. After a moment, she succeeded in flopping over, wincing as she did so. And heard the men laughing at her feeble attempts to find a more comfortable position.

They were going to rape her. At the thought, bile rose, and she struggled to force it back down.

Despite her best efforts to keep them at bay, however, tears seeped out as she rested her face against the ground. For reasons not clear to her, the King thought her strong. His sister had told her so. And even knowing she might die without ever seeing him again, she wanted to know in her own mind that she'd been true to that perception of her. Had not yielded to the fear and horror. She blinked fiercely, succeeded in pushing the tears back.

She forced her mind away from what the men had planned for later, back to the conversation she'd had with Hunlaf.

And felt a grim smile tug at her lips.

Perhaps she had given Hunlaf more information than she should have by telling him the number of men who'd gone with King Elessar, resulting in his belief that the city was nearly empty of men. That very few of them would be available to search for her, or pose a threat to his group.

But she'd only answered his questions about King Elessar. She'd told him nothing of the arrival of the Princes of Ithilien and Dol Amroth.

Due to Andric's clear description, Eomer was able to lead them directly to the area where Lisswyn had been captured. Pausing outside the path that led to the clearing, he looked over at Faramir before turning to stare up at the hills rising up in front of them.

"What are you thinking?" Faramir quietly asked.

"I believe we'd make better time without the horses from here."

"But are not Hunlaf and his men mounted?"

"Yes. But the paths and trails through these hills are not particularly easy on horseback, and it's frequently quicker on foot. I also believe it will also be easier to track them if we're not mounted."

With a nod, Faramir acquiesced. "They are your hills. You know best. And you're correct about tracking being easier on foot."

So they dismounted, and after Eomer quickly assigned several men to guard the horses, they slipped up the path, he and Faramir in front, followed closely by the rest of their men.

As he'd expected, they almost immediately found the clearing where Lisswyn had been when Hunlaf found her. The ground bore the marks of both horses and men, and above them, he could see the rocky trail and overhang where Andric had been watching her.

And on the far side, between several boulders, the ground was littered with plants Lisswyn had apparently pulled out and been holding when Hunlaf grabbed her.

Without completely knowing why, Eomer knelt, gathered the plants. Using his sword, he sliced off a strip of his cloak, wrapped the small plants in it and tucked them inside his armor. Then, feeling a bit foolish, he turned back to them, defiance in his stance.

Knowing he had revealed his heart to the men around him, his eyes went first to Faramir.

But even in the small amount of light cast by the moon and their torches, he saw only compassion in the other man's eyes.

Faramir turned, motioned up the path. "Young Andric was correct. It looks as if there were about fifteen of them."

They started up the trail.

The moon was much higher in the sky when they paused as Faramir studied yet another point where the path diverged in several different directions.

"They're leading us in circles," Eomer murmured. None of the men were speaking more than absolutely necessary, knowing that they needed to be able to hear any chance sound from their quarry…and needed their quarry to not hear them.

Faramir didn't respond immediately, his head cocked, listening. Then he looked back at the ground, at the marks that he could somehow read as a trail, and nodded. "So it appears."

As the hills gave way to the mountains, there were many places where the main path would branch off, then rejoin the primary trail, and all along the way were caves and pockets of trees or bushes, some large enough to hold several men waiting to ambush them.

Their progress was slow, and Eomer restrained his impatience. They'd not found Lisswyn's body, maimed and discarded. That had been his first fear, that Hunlaf had captured her only to quickly decide to kill her. But the evening was now far gone, and even if Hunlaf was still on the move, even if he was nervous due to having no clear idea of how long it would be before someone came after them, he would stop at some point, and that was when the danger to Lisswyn would be greatest.

Faramir stood from where he'd been stooped, studying the ground, and once more led them up the path.

Moments later, he paused in a small clearing. As they had before, the men and Eomer stood near the entrance, so as not to disturb the foot and hoof prints. Faramir, holding his torch down close to the ground, looked carefully at the marks, then moved off to the side of the clearing, where he stood for long moments, studying the ground.

Glancing up, he motioned for Eomer to join him, and when he did, Faramir pointed the ground. "She lay here, I believe."

Eomer dropped his gaze to the ground, wondered how Faramir could tell anything from the disturbed dirt.

"I believe her hands are tied, though I can not tell whether in front or behind her." He glanced up, waited for Eomer to look at him. "They would not have tied her hands if she were dead, Eomer. I also do not believe it's been that long since they were here. They wasted much time trying to lead us astray in the lower hills."

At the words, Eomer felt hope move through him for the first time since Andric had entered his chamber, and impatient to leave, he turned, prepared to summon the men.

"Eomer."

He turned back to Faramir, unease sliding through him at the other man's bleak tone.

Faramir was once more kneeling next to the disturbed dirt, touching something Eomer couldn't see.

Eomer squatted next to him, and Faramir turned, examined his fingers in the light of the torch. When he looked back at Eomer, his expression was somber. "Blood."

Before Eomer could react, Faramir reached out, grabbed his shoulder. "It's a small amount. It may not signify anything serious."

"It's blood. Her blood." Eomer jerked away from him, stood. Furious, he stared down at where she'd laid. "It doesn't matter how much. He hurt her, or allowed her to be hurt." He looked up, in the direction Hunlaf and his men had gone, thought not only of Lisswyn but also of Tille and Lufe, then looked back at Faramir. "He's dead already," he said flatly.

Faramir nodded, hesitated as if he would speak, then turned instead to begin examining the exits from the clearing. As in other places, there were two of them, but the Prince appeared to be having greater difficulty in reading the tracks this time.

Eomer walked over to join him, and then waited as Faramir again bent down, examining first one path, then the other, a frown on his face.

"What? What is it?" There was both anxiety and impatience in his tone that he could not quite stifle. If Faramir lost the trail at this point…

"They split up here," the other man finally said, stepping back and looking at Eomer. "Two of them took the trail up, but they tried to cover the tracks, make the path look unused."

"Lisswyn and Hunlaf?"

"I do not believe so. Neither of the footprints belong to a woman, nor are they deep enough to indicate a man carrying extra weight."

"As if they were carrying her."

"Exactly." Faramir looked up the path that wound up more sharply, appearing to run above and parallel to the main trail. "Where does it go, do you know?"

"It's very rocky and steep, but there are places that would serve as an overlook, points where it's possible to see what's happening on the lower path. Perhaps someone has gone up to serve as a lookout. Hunlaf must know someone will come after him," he paused. "It would also be possible to organize an ambush from up there, though why he'd only send two men, I can't imagine."

Faramir studied the trails again, then looked at him. "If they've split up, perhaps we should as well."

Eomer's looked back at the main path, then slowly nodded. "The main one doesn't branch off as frequently from this point, so there's less chance of my losing their trail."

"Then I will take my men and follow the two who did not wish to be followed. If we move quickly, perhaps we can catch up with them, and persuade them to tell us their plans."

Eomer nodded, could only hope it would be that easy.

Lisswyn stumbled, caught herself before she fell. A quick glance showed that neither Hunlaf nor any of his men had seen her, and she swallowed with relief.

They'd unbound her legs earlier so she could walk, but a rope around her middle, held by Hunlaf, prevented her from running. That and Hunlaf's frequent demonstrations that he would use any excuse to punish her, both with his fists and his knife.

Beyond weary, she ached all over from the bruises and cuts he'd given her, but willingly continued to move forward. She'd heard some of the men grumbling, knew they were eager for a meal and to stop for the night. Were ready for the night's 'entertainment.'

There'd already been one fight over who got her immediately after Hunlaf. He'd broken up the fight, but had clearly been amused by it.

At least there were two fewer men who would be making camp with them. Earlier, Hunlaf had sent two of them up a side path, to serve as a lookout. He plainly didn't think they were being followed – at least not yet – but wasn't taking any chances.

The other men laughed when one of them made a coarse joke, obviously about her, and it took a moment for her to understand his meaning. When she did, embarrassment followed by dread moved through her. A bit desperately, she pushed the thoughts away. As long as they continued to move, there was hope that she would somehow be spared.

Although she couldn't quite bring herself to imagine that the King might have learned of her capture in time to rescue her before Hunlaf stopped for the night, that didn't prevent her from longing for him. From wishing for the sudden sound of horses coming up behind them.

Admitting the unlikeliness of that, her thoughts turned nearly as often to King Elessar. He and his men had headed into the hills. She didn't know exactly where, nor even the general direction, and in fact, it was probably nowhere near where she was. But the hope, small as it was, helped distract her, both from her weariness and pain, as well as from the fear.

As they entered a clearing, Hunlaf brought his horse to a halt, motioned for the other men to do the same, and Lisswyn's heart gave a hard knock, then speeded up as she waited for him to give the order to make camp.

Her legs were trembling, and she forced strength into them, determined to be courageous. But what did courage look like when you were about to be raped by an entire pack of men?

Would they untie her arms? If so, she might at least be able to put up a fight, even if she had no real hope of defending herself. If they didn't… She grimaced. If they didn't, the pain from the increased pressure on her shoulders might be sufficient to distract her from the rapes themselves.

The men were moving restlessly in their saddles, plainly wanting Hunlaf to speak. But he only held a hand up, motioned for silence.

Moments later, Lisswyn realized that more men were slipping quietly into the clearing on foot. Saying nothing, they stayed in the shadows. Several of Hunlaf's men shifted uneasily, but Hunlaf himself merely sat on his mount, waiting.

"You're late." The voice from the shadows was slurred somehow, and hard for her to understand.

Hunlaf jerked on the rope tied around Lisswyn's waist. "Something unexpected happened," he answered calmly.

The shadow snorted. "That why you're being followed?"

Tension descended on the group, a tangible thing. Lisswyn, too, held her breath, but for a different reason.

Without hurry, Hunlaf dismounted, tossed both his reins and the rope to one of his men, then moved into the shadows. "What did you see?" There was an underlying eagerness beneath the calm of his voice.

"Should have warned us there'd be blood tonight."

She sensed, rather than saw, Hunlaf's arm snap out, grab the man. "Answer me." His voice was no longer patient.

The shadow appeared to struggle against Hunlaf's hold for a moment, then sulkily said, "Men on foot. Coming up the path."

"Who? How many?"

"How should I know?" He jerked again, pulled away from Hunlaf's grip. "It was dark, and they all look alike. But they had the horselord's banner."

It took a moment for her to understand, and when she did, Lisswyn fought back tears of relief. It could only be the King. No one else would have his standard.

He and his men were somewhere not far behind them.

Hunlaf's men started murmuring, and Hunlaf stepped back out to the middle of the clearing.

"We should have disposed of her," one of the men said.

In the flickering light of the torches, Lisswyn saw Hunlaf glance at her, saw the smirk. "Why do you say that? Have we not been trying to rid the land of the House of Eorl for many months? And now, he's coming to us. Thanks to her."

Shock had her looking up. They'd been trying to kill the king? Even before Hunlaf's dismissal from the kitchen? Why?

There was more muttering from the men, and gradually she realized they were unhappy that the men Hunlaf had sent to serve as lookouts had not reported back in, indeed were not the ones reporting that they were being followed.

Hunlaf shrugged, though Lisswyn thought he wasn't as unconcerned as he appeared.

"They'll find us, and we can learn then the source of their delay. In the meantime, it's time we go on foot as well. If the King is coming after us, we need to arrange a suitable welcome for him." He threw back his head and laughed at the thought, then sobered before turning and motioning to three of his men. "Take the horses to the large storage cave and settle them there. That will allow us to move more quickly."

There was more grumbling at that, but it was mostly restrained as they dismounted. Within moments, the three men Hunlaf had designated tied the horses together and led them off down a side path.

Hunlaf watched them go, then taking the rope back, yanked Lisswyn to him so hard she stumbled.

With rough hands, he steadied her. "Careful, now," he said mockingly. "We still have a ways to go before we settle down for the night. But just think…if the King arrives on time, perhaps we'll let him watch our evening's entertainment." He laughed again, then shoved her before him.

Sickness curled in her stomach as she understood what he meant, but she shook it aside. He was underestimating the King's skill in battle. She didn't doubt that Hunlaf's men were capable, but they'd be no match for the King and his guard.

Cheered by the thought, she moved forward. As she did, she finally caught a glimpse of one of the men standing in the shadows: Tall, dark, rough.

Dunlendings. Wild men from the west.

They seldom left their land, but their hatred for the Eorlingas was strong, even more so after the lies Saruman had told them. Strong enough to join with Hunlaf and his men, and the orcs whom they equally despised, in making war on the Mark?

Possibly. But how many of them were there? And more to the point, how many men were with the King?

Eomer stared down at the tracks in frustration. They'd moved at a fast pace after splitting off from Faramir, the tracks of Hunlaf and his men so clear that they'd been easy to read even without a ranger's eyes. But now it appeared that the men had gone one direction and the horses another, and it disturbed him.

He was certain of what he was seeing, trusted both his eyes and his knowledge of horse tracks that far. What he didn't know was how many of the horses had borne riders. Why had they split up? And was Lisswyn with the group on horseback, or with the men who'd continued following the main trail? And which group was Hunlaf in?

If Hunlaf had had only a dozen or so men with him, as Andric had indicated and Faramir supported, and two of them had already taken the trail that Faramir had followed, then the loss of several more of them, at least, to take the horses elsewhere could only be good, as it further reduced their numbers.

He looked up the trail that the horses had followed. If he remembered correctly, it led to several large caves, and nowhere else. The path ended at the mouth of the caves. They must be using them to stable the horses. Did that mean they normally camped in this area?

Uneasily, he turned, gazed once more up the main path. Why leave the horses?

After another moment, he left the path the horses had taken and started up the trail after the men on foot. He could be making an error, one Lisswyn would pay for. But he couldn't imagine Hunlaf staying with the horses while the bulk of his men went elsewhere, nor could he imagine the man not keeping Lisswyn close to him. Hunlaf liked being in control too much.

His men followed him.

Eomer squatted, held the torch down so he could clearly see the tracks. Once again, the trail split, and this time it was clear that Hunlaf and all of his men had abandoned the main trail for a smaller path off to the side.

Standing, he studied the smaller path, then turned to Thedhelm, his eyes glinting.

The younger man wore a confused expression. "That path doesn't go anywhere. It dead ends in a ravine."

"He thinks me witless, or a fool," Eomer murmured. When Thedhelm didn't respond, he shook his head. "Remind me to have Eothain discuss strategy with you," he said dryly, before continuing. "It's a trap. He means to lie in wait for us at the Point."

The path Hunlaf had taken wound its way through a narrow canyon before ending in a ravine roughly shaped like the point of a spear. In the spring, when the snow melted in the mountains, water pooled in it before continuing its way out of the hills.

Now, however, it would be dry, and would make a good place to stage an ambush. The path itself was so narrow that in places it was impossible to walk other than in single file, and there were rocks and boulders large enough to hide behind within the ravine. And once trapped inside, there would be very little maneuvering room and no way to retreat, or even regroup, assuming that some of Hunlaf's men hid behind rocks and so wound up behind them.

Thedhelm looked at him. "And having fewer men would make less of a difference if your quarry was trapped and you had the advantage."

"Exactly." Eomer's eyes gleamed. "But he doesn't have the advantage."

At the younger man's questioning look, Eomer nodded in the direction of the main path. "In his arrogance, he's forgotten that I grew up in these hills."

A/N: Yes, yes, I know. Another evil cliff-hanger. My apologies for that, truly. I'll do my best to post the next chapter by Sunday or Monday.