Etheron smiled grimly as Aeda wrapped his brow in dirty linens. He was still shaking, but not as badly as he had been before. Not near as badly as he had been when the orc's horn had first blasted their foul war call over the plain. It was a very good thing that Aeda had known how to fight, too. They would both have been killed if she hadn't--twice, she had cut down an orc readying itself for a thrust into Etheron's back. He had managed to repay half his debt before the score of orcs were dead. If the orcs had been on wargs or they themselves on foot-! Etheron knew that if the foolish orcs hadn't blasted their call, he and Aeda would be bones on the ground and flesh in the stomachs of the orcs. It scared him to think about. He had been so very close to death in that one moment…in that one moment, it had seemed like he would rather die than face what would lay ahead. The gift of foresight…hah! It was more a curse. Especially since he had to be in pain to see ahead. The more pain, the stronger and more detailed the image. Oh, he had wanted to die then and there, if it would mean he would not have to face what he had seen…

"Are you alright?" Aeda asked quietly. She got no answer. Etheron was staring out into space, untouched by anything on Middle Earth. As Aeda eyed him worriedly, he shook his head, as if to clear an unwelcome thought, and stood, a little too quickly. Aeda caught his arm as he stumbled and helped steady him, then started to lower him down to the rock. "You must rest, love. We have many leagues yet ahead."

"No, truly, I'm fine," insisted Etheron as he gently pushed aside her hand and straightened up once more. "We must be away by nightfall, ere the plains are thick with wargs. The carnage is sure to call them like a battle cry calls to arms. Do our horses live?"

"Yes, but one has a saddle missing and a great gash across his back. The bleeding has stopped, but each step brings pain to the poor thing. Must we leave it here and continue? Or must we force it through its pain to shelter?" Aeda was worried. She knew blood drew wargs to the bleeding animal. If they left the horse, it would slow the wargs down, but they would have to stop more often if they were both to ride the one horse. If either youth were to walk, they would be left behind in a quarter hour, and they could ill afford that. And should they encounter the beasts again, it would have to be the last horse or them. But if they kept the injured horse, they would go faster for longer, but, again, have to stop frequently. The bloodied horse would draw the wargs straight to them, and they would eventually have to leave it if they were to live. Besides, they were out in the Wild. None could or would help them here. There would be no shelter. What Aeda was asking Etheron was: should we sacrifice the horse now, or later?

Etheron thought for a moment. It was painful-horses were practically kin to the Rohan. But he decided. "We will leave the horse here," he said softly. "I think it would be a greater evil to bring further pain to it, only to have it die. Besides, we must look to our own survival. The Wild is not kind to man, elf, or beast."

Aeda put her hand on his shoulder. "Come, my love. Dark approaches. We must be away ere the stars rise."

The two lovers made the injured animal as comfortable as possible, then leapt up on the back of the remaining horse. They could already hear the wargs singing their foul songs in their foul tongue, far off in the distance. Twilight kissed the travelers as they sped through the plains, skirting the edge of Fangorn, then on to Mirkwood. It was a journey of many hundreds of miles, and they had traveled but two hundred yet. Much hardship would they endure before then. As the Rohirric youths rode over the horizon, toward the rising stars, a third horse and rider, at the head of a score of others, called a halt. The rider dropped down, and bent, looking at the ground, reading it. Another rider came up alongside him.

"Milord, what is it?"

Without a word, the first man leapt back to his horse and spurred it on. They would not rest that night. They had not really rested in the fortnight they had spent in pursuit of those accursed horse thieves, the ones that had stolen both horses and food. The thrice-damned thieves would be caught, and punished. These Riders would not allow them to escape.

Reviews make the chapters come faster. Hint. Hint.