Chapter 9 - The Trap

As they ran the width of the valley, towards the relative safety of the steep ridge, Galadwen could hear something in the back of her mind. It was not unlike the impressions she got when talking to the trees, but this was a hum like someone was singing a song of urgency and danger. At first, it was so quiet that Galadwen thought her fear was making her imagine things, but as they neared the base of the next ridge, it was loud enough to almost drown out the sound of her own heavy breathing.

A barking growl came from close to the squad's left.

"Wargs!" one of the soldiers called from behind. "Two hundred and fifty yards and closing fast."

"Faster," urged Lieutenant Amathrel, increasing her pace. "They're trying to cut us off from the ridge." The squad followed at a dead run. Galadwen urged her legs to move faster, but she felt her body struggling to keep up with the squad. She had seen this before, in her dreams. If she fell behind, half the squad would die trying in vain to protect her. Knowing she had no other choice, Galadwen drew on her life force.

She tried to only draw in a small amount, but her fear made the floodgates burst open and her life force came pouring in, filling her body with a burst of life and energy. The world slowed as everything came into focus. Her legs used the new found energy to move faster while her mind used her new focus to read their surroundings. The ten soldiers around her moved with grim determination. A glance to the left showed six orcs on wargs closing in on them fast. Too fast.

"We're not going to make it," she called to the Lieutenant.

The Lieutenant watched the progress of the wargs for a moment before shouting off orders. Galadwen watched the squad split around her. Four elves broke off to the right while three ran to the left. The Lieutenant and two other soldiers stayed with Galadwen, as they continued at full pace on their direct path to the ridge.

The orcs responded in kind. A pair veering off to each group of elves. Instead of six wargs running towards them, now there were only two.

"We will attack the wargs," the Lieutenant called to her. "Galadwen, keep running for the ridge."

Galadwen wanted to argue that she could help fight, but the Lieutenant and other soldiers, now with swords in hand, were spreading out away from her and the wargs were upon them.

One of the wargs was coming straight for her. She could focus on little more than the large snout and sharp teeth in a ferocious growl bearing down on her. Sucking in more life force that calmed her nerves, she dodged the beast at the last second. The orc rider took a swing at her as he went past, the vicious tip of his sword barely a hand from her face. Half a dozen yards behind her, one of the soldiers cut the legs out from under the beast. As its legs failed and the warg fell into a roll, the orc rider jumped from it's back.

Remembering the Lieutenant's orders, Galadwen reluctantly continues running towards the ridge, leaving the soldier to deal with the orc.

Barely twenty yards from the base of the ridge, the humming in the back of Galadwen's mind turned into almost a shout. Taking it as a warning, she dove to the left as another warg came charging past. The rider pulled the warg up just short of the small cliff at the base of the ridge and turned to face her. Taking slow steps towards her, the warg growled while the orc rider let out a cackle of amusement. They were not going to let her escape up that way.

As the warg slowly closed the distance, Galadwen drew her sword. She had no idea how to defeat a warg. With nothing more than Toron's training to fall back on, Galadwen hesitantly took a defensive stance. As long as she stayed out of the reach of those fangs, claws, and the orc's sword, she would be fine. With the help of her gift, that should be easy enough.

With a deep breath, Galadwen drew in more of her life force and closing her eyes, opened them in the future. She could faintly hear the battle sounds around her, and the strange humming in the back of her mind. She could smell the warg. A putrid mix of fur, blood, and rot. In the future, she watched it take the step towards her, then a moment later, heard it do it in the present. The orc was laughing hysterically now. She supposed he thought she was closing her eyes in fear of facing him.

With her eyes closed, she watched the warg lunge at her, teeth snapping. Its reflexes were quicker than anything she had seen before. She saw her options, and just as the warg actually lunged for her, she sidestepped the head and drove her sword through the mane and into its neck. Her nose was filled with the beast's foul breath as she watched what the future would bring. She saw the warg rear up, jerking the sword from her hand and slashing her across the face with one of its clawed paws. Wishing to avoid the terrible blow, Galadwen let go of her sword and spun into a backwards dive out of the beast's reach as it started to rear up. She saw that the orc, who was not laughing now, was going to jump from the wounded warg towards her. Galadwen stood a moment longer until he was in the air then leapt out of the orc's range.

Landing, the orc growled and spat at her in some mutation of Black Speech. Its squat frame was barely as high as her chest, but those long arms that nearly touched the ground gave him a reach equal to hers. Unfortunately, he was still armed with his sword and she was not. Her bow was hooked securely into her quiver, and she doubted the orc would wait while she released it. Then remembering Toron's knife at her back, Galadwen drew it. Regrettably, she had no idea how to use such a weapon in combat, but the orc did not give her time to contemplate her shortcomings. With another feral growl, he raised his sword and ran at her.

Galadwen used her sight to avoid each of his strikes as he came at her, but he was skilled and cunning. His strikes started coming faster and changing direction part way through to follow her as she avoided the initial strike. The orc's image was turning into a confusing blur of possibilities. She could do nothing more than keep backing up to stay outside of the reach of his sword. Smelling victory, the orc cackled again as he lept at her. Galadwen saw the leap coming, but she did not see the rock behind her as she stepped out of his reach. Landing awkwardly on the rock, her foot slipped out from underneath her and she toppled backwards.

With the fall, Galadwen was shocked out of the future to see the orc leap at her again, sword held high, ready for the kill strike. Vainly, Galadwen raised her dagger arm to defend herself as the orc flew towards her. At the top of its leap, the orc's head jerked back, an arrow protruding from its eye. The creature fell to the ground, landing on her legs. With a speed enhanced by her fear, Galadwen frantically kicked the orc off her legs. It rolled over, dark glassy eye reflecting the stars above. It was dead.

Calming her frantic breath, Galadwen climbed to her shaky feet. Now she had stopped using her life force, her body felt fatigued, her mind weary, and the world around her dulled to her senses. Only moments had passed, but it felt like hours. Taking stock of her body's weakness and gathering her senses, she looked in the direction that the life-saving arrow had come from. She saw one of the soldiers with a bow in hand. It was the kind soldier who had shown concern when she stepped from the protection of the forest for the first time. Galadwen gave him a nod of thanks.

Around them lay the corpses of the wargs and orcs. Seeing the warg she had killed, Galadwen went to retrieve her sword. Heaving, she struggled to pull it out. With no life force flowing through her, enhancing her strength, it would not budge.

"If they die in pain, their muscles tense up," the kind soldier said as he approached her. "The muscles grip the sword, holding it in place." He reached for her sword and pushed it further in, before shoving it left then right, cutting a larger hole in the flesh with the blade. Then pulling it free, he whipped the blade around his head in a graceful arc. The dark blood of the warg flew from the sword in a red rainbow. Kneeling, with head bowed, the soldier offered her the cleaned sword back, hilt first. Galadwen got the impression he was doing more than just returning her sword.

"Form up," called Lieutenant Amathrel. "The rest of the orc horde is not far behind."

Galadwen accepted the offered sword, and sheathing it, she joined the squad as they formed up around her. Now the sword was back in her possession, the humming had returned to the back of her mind. The Lieutenant quickly checked the squad over.

Although she had nothing to compare it against, Galadwen thought they had fared well. Only one soldier was injured, with a bloody laceration to the arm. It had been hastily bandaged but the bright red blood was already seeping through the bandages.

"Steady pace to the top of the ridge," Lieutenant Amathrel called, and the squad set off.

At the base of the cliff, Galadwen watched the squad barely slow their pace as they nibbly climbed and lept the cliff. With her fatigued body, Galadwen struggled to follow them up the smooth rocky cliff. As she was about to draw on her life force, Toron's words of caution ran through her mind and she stopped herself.

Lieutenant Amathrel called the squad to a halt and sent two soldiers back to assist her up the cliff. Galadwen felt her cheeks burning with shame as the soldiers pulled her up the cliff. As she rejoined the squad, the Lieutenant looked her over. "Are you injured Galadwen?" she asked.

"Nay," Galadwen replied. "Only fatigued. But as long as there are no more cliffs to scale, I will keep up."

The Lieutenant frowned at her for a long moment before giving the order to continue. They scaled the ridge at a slow run with the orcs at their heels. Galadwen could feel the tension building in the squad as they climbed the ridge at a controlled pace and the orcs slowly gained on them. A quick glance over her shoulder showed a mass of black figures swarming up the ridge, many on all fours, using their long arms to help propel them up the hill. She could hear their grunts and cries of command above her own laboured breathing. Tripping over a stone, Galadwen returned her focus to her own body and making it up the hill without becoming a burden on the squad.

When they finally crested the ridge, Galadwen's sigh of relief was interrupted by a stream of profanity that flowed from Lieutenant Amathrel's mouth. Galadwen stared at her in shock. The only other elf she had heard talk like that was Nestor, and she did so only in defiance of elven society. She followed the Lieutenant's gaze and saw that the next valley was not the open grassy valley like all the previous ones. This valley was lined with the dark canopy of a thick forest.

"Won't the forest help hide our trap?" Galadwen asked.

"Our archery advantage is lost, communication and the front lines will be hard to maintain, and the possibility of orcs escaping will be greater. Outnumbered as we are, it will be a bloody battle unless Captain Erthor arrives before the orcs realise their advantage," the Lieutenant replied. "We have travelled further north than I thought. But there is no time to dwell on it, we will continue as per the plan."

With the orcs now within archery range, three soldiers quickly loosed a dozen arrows at them, downing an orc for every arrow. But it did little to slow the horde's ascent up the hill. They swarmed over their dead comrades with cries of anger and surged up the hill at an even greater speed.

"Run," the Lieutenant commanded, and the squad took off down the hill at a dead run.

With her fatigued body, all Galadwen's focus went towards concentrating on her footing. One misstep here and she would take out half the squad in her fall down the steep hill.

"Arrows incoming," called out one of the soldiers behind her.

"Split," commanded the Lieutenant. Galadwen somehow managed to keep her footing as the Lieutenant grabbed her arm and pulled her firmly to the right. The squad had split in two. Half veering right with Galadwen, and the other half veering left. Moments later a shower of arrows landed between the two groups.

"Close up," came the Lieutenant's call as they neared the bottom of the hill and the safety of the forest. The two groups angled towards each other so they met just as they reached the cover of the forest.

Entering the gloom of the forest, the squad slowed their pace to a loping gait. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Galadwen saw this forest was nothing like the forest of Lothlorien. The trees here barely reached twenty yards in height, were packed in tightly, and topped with a dark green canopy that looked almost black in the starlight. A thick knee-high bracken covered every space between the trees, hindering any movement and threatened to trip Galadwen with every step. It was suffocating and claustrophobic compared to the grand forests of Lothlorien.

"Lieutenant Amathrel," called a soldier, running towards them through the trees. It was Lagorben with half a dozen elves following close behind him.

"Lagorben," Lieutenant Amathrel said, nodding in reply to his salute. Dismissed, Lagorben rejoined his squad while the Lieutenant address the stern looking elf standing at the centre of those who came to meet them. "Lieutenant Thannor, there are 1700 orcs running down the ridge behind us. We removed a small warg pack but I suspect there may be more. From what I have seen of their tactics, their commander is cunning. Expect a trap. There has been no sign of the rest of the army."

"Thank you for the report, Amathrel," said Lieutenant Thannor. "We are ready for them. Dagon," the Lieutenant said, with a nod towards the soldier standing beside him, "will lead you through our lines. His squad will guard our left flank and ensure you are not followed."

With a nod, Lieutenant Amathrel accepted the order and dismissal. With Galadwen and the rest of the squad following, Lieutenant Amathrel followed Lieutenant Dagon past the other commanders and into the woods.

As they passed through the eerily quiet forest, soldiers would materialize out of the gloom. Dark motionless statues, they looked as much part of the forest as the trees. But to Galadwen's untrained eyes, she could see no army lines, only soldiers spaced as randomly as the tree trunks around them.

Just as Galadwen realised there were no more soldiers in the woods around them, she heard a feral yell from behind them, quickly followed by the muffled sounds of battle. Thumps and thuds, groans, and cries of pain and challenge, clashes of steel on steel, and the twang of bowstrings.

Lieutenant Dagon hurriedly lead them another thirty yards through the trees to a small creek. Soldiers silently emerged from the shadows on the far side.

"If any orcs follow you, we will stop them here," Lieutenant Dagon said to Amathrel.

Lieutenant Amathrel nodded in reply. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Be safe," she said, taking his shoulder in a familiar grasp.

"And you, Lieutenant Amathrel," he replied.

Lieutenant Amathrel gracefully leapt the creek and the rest of her squad followed. Galadwen gave Lieutenant Dagon a respectful nod. She had an odd feeling that she had seen his face in her dreams. But she could not remember any specifics to warn him about. WIth a feeling of uselessness, Galadwen followed Lieutenant Amathrel and her squad over the creek.

As Galadwen and the squad slowly made their way down the valley through the thick bracken, the sounds of the battle behind started to fade. It was replaced with the suffocating silence of the dark humid forest, and the soft sounds of the elves as they moved almost noiselessly through the bracken. But strangely, with the fading of the battle sounds, the humming in the back of Galadwen's mind did not fade.

"We've gone far enough through this damn bracken," Lieutenant Amathrel said, breaking the oppressive silence. "The north ridge should be far enough from the battle to be safe to travel." She turned left and Galadwen and the rest of the squad silently followed.

When they finally broke out of the forest, Galadwen gratefully breathed in the fresh air as her eyes adjusted to the brighter light of the starry night.

"Lieutenant," whispered one of the soldiers in an urgent hiss. Everyone froze. The ridge above them was lined with dark shadows. Hundreds of orcs stretching as far as they could see in both directions along the ridge. The elven army's trap had been turned against them, and the army had no idea. Fortunately, Galadwen and the squad were still in the shadows of the forest and had not been seen.

"Cover up," the Lieutenant said in a whispered command. As one, the squad lifted the hoods of their Lorien cloaks over their heads and wrapped them tightly around themselves, effectively hiding them from all but the keenest of eyes. Galadwen did the same with her own cloak.

"The forest has been used against us like I feared," the Lieutenant said, grinding her teeth. "Galuchin, scout the ridge to the left," she commanded. "I will scout the ridge to the right. Lagorben, inform Lieutenant Dagon of the second orc horde. We will get Galadwen clear of the trap then return to reinforce him. Everyone else, take cover within the treeline. Eat, drink and rest." Those instructions were directed towards Galadwen. "We may have to fight our way through. This second horde will attack before daybreak, but the night is still young, so we have time."

The squad split and Galadwen crept back into the treeline to wait with the remainder of the squad. She sat down, leaning against the trunk of a tree and started talking to it. But like the Black Ash trees in the soft lands of Lothlorien, this tree was asleep and it did not know her or welcome her presence. Galadwen wished she could sing to it, but with the orcs so close, that was not possible. The more she tried to talk to the tree to persuade it to share its life force, the more it seemed to ignore her. With a sigh of frustration, Galadwen closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Staring at the tangled maze of possibilities, Galadwen cringed at all the death. She had not seen this trap before, but then she had not been looking for it or even known what to look for. Her lack of tactical knowledge had restricted her understanding of the battle and the many possibilities. Now with so many beings involved, she could not make sense of the larger picture. Realising the limitations in her gift, Galadwen returned her focus on herself and those of Lieutenant Amathrel's squad. With fewer people, it was easier to make sense of their options and their chances of success. This time she didn't try to pick the most likely options, but looked at all of them, remembering each detail as best she could. With limited time, Galadwen dared not travel further than a couple of hours into the future.

Galadwen opened her eyes some time later to see Lieutenant Amathrel's frowning face hovering over her, and her hand on Galadwen's shoulder trying to shake her awake.

"What have you seen?" the Lieutenant demanded.

"A lot," Galadwen replied. "But I do not have the tactical knowledge to know what I am seeing. So tell me your plan and I will tell you what I have seen."

"The orcs on the ridge directly above us are on alert waiting for an attack. About 200 yards further down the valley their line ends where the ridge turns into the cliff that stretches down the valley to the Great River. The orcs there are restless and less disciplined. If we provide a tempting target, I believe they will abandon their post for the chance of a fight. Galadwen, you can then sneak past them and over the ridge to continue your journey north."

"I have seen that the distraction will work, but a few orcs will stay behind to guard the ridge." Galadwen swallowed, looking at her hands as she remembered seeing her death at the hands of one of the orcs.

"I need a volunteer to cross the ridge with Galadwen and ensure her safety," said the Lieutenant. The members of the squad looked at each other. None seemed willing to leave their comrades to what they all knew was going to be a bloody battle.

"I will," one of the soldiers eventually said. Looking around, Galadwen saw it was the kind soldier who had saved her life earlier.

"Thank you Gwennor," the Lieutenant replied with a small smile. "Signal when you are in place and we will make a distraction." The kind soldier, Gwennor, nodded. The Lieutenant turned to Galadwen. "This is where we part. Safe travels Galadwen. May the stars light your path and keep you safe."

"Thank you Lieutenant, and thank you all," Galadwen said with a small bow to the Lieutenant and her squad before standing and following Gwennor.

"We will follow the tree line to the cliffs," Gwennor whispered as they silently walked in the shadow of the forest.

"Thank you Gwennor, for saving my life and for volunteering," Galadwen replied softly. "May I ask why?"

"The whole squad has been tasked with your safety Galadwen," he said. "But I volunteered because I am of the same mind as Cullas."

"You know her?" Galadwen asked, surprised.

"Of course," Gwennor replied. "We are close friends. She wished to be here herself, but her request was denied."

"Why? By who?"

"Her captain, but ultimately, by our Lord and Lady. Why, I could not say for sure. But I would hazard a guess it is because of her recent outspoken opinions regarding our Lord and Lady and their treatment of you."

Galadwen nodded in understanding. From what she had seen of Cullas, she was not one to hide her true thoughts.

As they continued along the edge of the forest at a steady pace, Galadwen kept one eye on the orcs lining the ridge above them. She felt a chill of fear at their number. Images from her dreams flashed through her mind. Even if Captain Erthor arrived, it was going to be a bloody battle.

"Is there nothing we can do to help the army?" Galadwen whispered.

"Our priority is to get you out of here safely," Gwennor replied.

"But our army is trapped, and even if Captain Erthor arrives before these orcs attack, they will be fighting outnumbered, in difficult terrain. Hundreds of elves will die. I have seen it."

Gwennor said nothing in reply.

"Surely one person's life is not worth sacrificing hundreds of others," Galadwen insisted.

"What do you propose?" he asked, stopping to look at her. "That we turn you over to the orcs to be tortured for days or seasons until, barely a shadow of yourself, you finally break? And then hope they let the rest of the army go without a fight?" he asked with a glare. "Let me tell you now, it does not work like that. These orcs may have been ordered after you, but given the chance, they will hunt and kill any elf or free person that is unfortunate enough live in these lands. They spread like a sickness, bringing death wherever they go. These elves are not sacrificing their lives for you. They are fighting because they know every orc killed tonight is one less orc that pollutes these lands."

"Then can we not help?" Galadwen asked.

"I have my orders," Gwennor replied as he continued walking.

"Your orders were to help me cross this ridge safely," Galadwen said. "What if you helped me cross safely, then we drew some of the orcs off into our own trap?"

He sighed, stopping to look at her again. "Galadwen, the fact that you suggest it, only shows how little you know about warfare. It would be suicide to try something as outnumber as we are, in unknown terrain, where the enemy holds the tactically superior ground, with no backup or retreat options. Even with a full squad, the possible casualty rate would be too high. My orders were not to help you commit suicide."

Galadwen looked away, feeling pain at the bluntness of his words, but also at her own failure. She had seen all the death that would happen tonight, but she had failed to do anything to stop it. And now there was nothing she could do to help the other elves. As Gwennor continued walking, Galadwen followed him with a heavy heart.

A little while later Gwennor stopped and looked at her. "I am sorry for how I spoke. It was unkind. Your bravery and desire to help are commendable."

"I know I am young, and there is much I do not know. But I hate this feeling of useless," Galadwen replied.

"That is a feeling all soldiers know too well. All we can do is have faith in our commanders and trust that if we follow our orders to the best of our ability, we will not be useless," Gwennor said with a smile. "So with that in mind, we should start our assent here."

The top of the ridge was no longer visible due to the cliff that had started near the top of the slope. Galadwen followed Gwennor as they stepped out from under the shadow of the forest and slowly moved up the slope. They kept low and moved with the slow steady pace of a snail. The crawling pace was almost painful to Galadwen, who half expected an orc to look over the top of the cliff at any moment and spot them. As they climbed above the forest, the sounds of battle echoed strangely around the valley, with some noises sounding far off, and others making her jump at their apparent proximity.

When they finally reached the base of the cliff, Galadwen could see it was only a few yards high at this point. A little further down the valley, it increased to nearly the full height of the ridge. Gwennor signalled for her to stay at the base of the cliff while he scaled it to scout ahead. Only a few moments later Gwennor nibbly climbed back down the cliff. To her questioning face, he gave her a confirmation nod. Then with his hands over his mouth, he made a long trilling call of a Nightjar. A moment later his call was answered by another Nightjar, back along the ridge.

At the reply, Gwennor indicated that Galadwen should follow him up the cliff. As she climbed, Galadwen was reminded how fatigued her body was, but this time they moved at a slow pace, so she had no trouble keeping up with Gwennor.

Reaching the top of the cliff, Galadwen poked her head over to see the hill sloping up to the top of the ridge, about eighty yards away. Outlined against the night sky were the silhouettes of a dozen orcs lounging about on the ridge. Along the ridge to the left were groups of orcs at regular intervals, but to her right was only one other group of orcs, then the ridge was clear. Gwennor signalled that they would wait there, clinging to the top of the cliff.

It was less than a comfortable place to wait. Galadwen could feel her body tiring as she clung to the cliff. Her legs started to shake and her fingers were cramping as they clung to the small handholds in the rock. The longer she stayed still, the more she feared any movement would cause to her body to give way and she would tumble down the cliff or at the very least make enough noise to warn every orc on the ridge of their presence. So Galadwen stayed frozen to the cliff, hoping Lieutenant Amathrel's distraction would come soon.

A sudden death cry of an orc up the ridge signalled the start of the distraction. The orcs in the group above them all jumped up, suddenly on high alert. As the orcs excitedly muttered amongst themselves, the group at the end of the line came running over to them. The sounds of a fight in full swing were now coming from along the ridge, and with every scream, the orcs above Galadwen and Gwennor would twitch and take a step towards the action. After a short discussion between the two groups of orcs, three remained at their post while the rest took off at a run along the ridge towards the sounds of fighting.

Galadwen watched the group run up to the next orc post, but only a few from that group joined them as they continued along the ridge towards the fighting. So absorbed in watching the orcs leave, Galadwen jumped in surprise at Gwennor's touch on her shoulder. He signalled that they should move up over the ridge. Then unhooking his bow, Gwennor swung himself over the top of the cliff and before he had even landed, an arrow was protruding from one of the orc's heads. With sickening thuds, the other two orcs received the same treatment before their comrade had even hit the ground. Galadwen stared in shock. Her gift gave her the skills to shoot accurately, but even with all the life force she dared to draw, she doubted she could match Gwennor's speed.

Gwennor scanned the area, then bent to help Galadwen over the edge of the cliff.

"Move quickly and quietly," he whispered. "We will make a run for the far side of the ridge."

Galadwen nodded and followed Gwennor up the slope at a steady, silent run.

She dared not look in the direction of the orcs as they ran with all haste up the hill. Cresting the ridge, Gwennor stopped to retrieve his arrows from the orcs. It was a bloody business that Galadwen knew she should be watching to learn, but she could not bring herself to do it. The sounds of it were enough to turn her stomach.

Instead, she scanned the ridge. The orcs, further along, were all looking in the opposite direction where, in the distance, she could make out Lieutenant Amathrel's squad in a hugely outnumbered fight. They had broken the orc line on the ridge and were desperately trying to hold it against the orcs swarming them from both sides. Galadwen doubted they could hold their position for long before the orcs surrounded them. Their only choice would be to retreat back down the hill to the forest. But outnumbered as they were, it would be a dangerous retreat.

"May Tulkas protect them, and Mandos greet them with open arms," Gwennor prayed, staring along the ridge at the desperate battle his squad fought. Looking at him, Galadwen could see the pain in his eyes.

"We could . . ." Galadwen started to say.

"No," Gwennor replied with a stern look. All the pain was now gone from his eyes as he clung to his duty. "We continue," he said. "I will see you safely over the next ridge and beyond the reach of the orcs." With no further comment, he turned and led her down the far side of the ridge.

With a final look back along the ridge and over the valley, something caught Galadwen's eyes.

"Gwennor," she called out in excitement. "Captain Erthor has arrived. All is not lost."

He turned and looked at her with horror on his face. Then his eyes flicked towards the orcs along the ridge. A few of the orcs had turned to look in their direction. Galadwen and Gwennor stood there staring at the orcs, not daring to move. The seconds ticked by until finally one called out a war cry and the orcs charged.

"Run!" Gwennor yelled at her, pulling her towards the far side of the ridge. Hating her own stupidity, Galadwen breathed in some life force and took off at a run. They crossed the ridge and started descending the other side at a dead run. The rocky, uneven ground was so steep Galadwen felt as if she was almost flying as she took long leaps down the slope.

"We'll make a stand at the willows," Gwennor called from behind. For the first time, Galadwen took in the quickly nearing valley below. It was an open meadow with a line of willows on the far side, suggesting a creek flowed there. Beyond that was a tall cliff, nearly reaching to the top of the next ridge.

Glancing behind them, Galadwen counted about three scores of orcs scrambling down the hill after them. She and Gwennor had managed to gain some distance, but the sheer number of them frightened her.

"How will we defeat them?" Galadwen asked as she ran, trying to not let her panic show.

"You will be alright Galadwen," Gwennor said. "We will take at least half of them out as they cross the plain. The rest we will deal with together. I did not see your fight with Toron but I have heard about it. Whatever skills you drew on then will be enough to keep you safe now. These orcs have poor armour, they are lowly soldiers and poorly trained. As long as we keep moving so they cannot surround us, we can defeat them."

Gwennor's words did little to sooth Galadwen. She had seen her death too many times to doubt that it would happen.

The flying turned into a full sprint as the slope levelled out to the valley floor. Galadwen felt her body pushing onwards as the life force flowed into her, giving her the speed and power to keep up with Gwennor. She just hoped she had enough to last the battle.

As they finally reached the willows on the far side of the valley, Gwennor already had his bow out. Stopping just outside the cover of the trees he loaded an arrow, and pointing it towards the sky, he paused to take aim. With a twang of the bowstring, the arrow flew in a graceful arc up into the sky. Squinting, Galadwen followed its path down and into the chest of one of the leading orcs running across the valley towards them. Before that arrow had found its target, Gwennor was already taking aim for the next shot.

Galadwen estimated the distance at about 500 yards. She had never even tried to fire an arrow that far. She didn't even know if her bow could do it. But as Gwennor let loose his third arrow, she unhooked her bow. Loading an arrow into it, she closed her eyes and looked to the future. Drawing the arrow back as far as the string allowed, Galadwen checked her stance, slowed her breathing and watched her possibilities. It was not easy to adjust her position by the smallest hair to correct her aim. When she was finally satisfied that her chance of success was high enough, the orcs were within 400 yards of them.

She let loose, and opening her eyes to see it in the present, she watched it find a target. It had missed the chest of the orc she had been aiming for but hit the leg of the orc behind him. Screaming in pain and rage, he went down and was trampled by other orcs following him. With grim satisfaction, Galadwen loaded another arrow.

"Pull back," Gwennor ordered when the orcs were within 100 yards of the willows. He had let loose a full quiver of arrows, with each one finding a mark. Galadwen had managed eight arrows, with only half of those kill shots, the rest had found marks, but were only wounding shots. The orcs were only now getting within a distance she was used to shooting at, so she was hesitant to stop. But at the same time, she knew to survive this she would have to trust Gwennor's tactical knowledge. So she let loose the arrow in her bow and ran into the willow copse after Gwennor.

Thirty yards in they reached a large ditch with a creek flowing along the bottom. Without breaking stride, Gwennor leapt it. Wishing she had a staff to help her, Galadwen followed him across. He landed at the top of the far bank and already had an arrow loaded. Galadwen's leap didn't take her as far and missing the top of the bank, she hit the bank hard, knocking the air from her lungs. As Gwennor continued to fire off arrows, Galadwen scrambled up the bank to join him. When the orcs reached the willows, they spread out, coming at them from nearly all sides.

"Gwennor?" Galadwen asked, worry obvious in her voice. "They're surrounding us."

"Just keep firing Galadwen," he replied, letting off another arrow as he spoke. "Remove as many as you can before they charge. You will be alright Galadwen."

No sooner had he finished speaking, a roar went up from the orcs around them as they charged. Galadwen released a final arrow before drawing her sword to meet the oncoming orcs. She drew in more life force and opened her eyes in the future. She sidestepped the first orc strike and countered it with her own that took off his sword arm. Then avoiding a strike from another orc, she put her sword through its neighbour's chest, before ducking to avoid the next strike, while taking out another orc's legs. She was a whirl of graceful motion. Every movement had a purpose, whether to defend, attack or protect Gwennor's back.

Together they fought, side by side, killing orc after orc. But it wasn't enough. The orcs were pushing in closer, giving them less room to avoid the attacks. She had to keep sacrificing kill strikes for ones to give her more space to move. Gwennor had cleared the orcs who tried to attack them from the creek, so now they fought with their heels brushing the edge of the bank. The orcs kept pressing them harder, even as more of their comrades died.

"Galadwen," Gwennor shouted during a strike that sliced the throat open of one orc and knocked the sword from the hand of another. "We need to cross the creek." He spun inside the attack of another orc and shoved it back into the orcs following it." You cross first then give me back up with your bow." He sidestepped an attack and used the orc's momentum to kick him to the ground between them so Galadwen could finish him while Gwennor defended two other attacks.

Following Gwennor's orders with the complete faith of a soldier, Galadwen sliced at one orc and shoved another back before turning and leaping the ditch. With all the life force flowing through her from the fighting, she made the leap easily. Turning, she sheathed her sword and unhooked her bow. In the short moment it took to do that, the orcs on the other side swarmed at Gwennor, quickly overwhelming him.

As he went down under a mass of orcs, Galadwen loaded her bow and started firing. In her desperation, she shot arrows off faster than she had ever done before. The orcs on Gwennor changed from a stabbing and kicking mass to a still pile. Then the orcs still swarming in on him fell one after the other in quick succession. The remaining orcs saw her alone on the other bank and started to charge towards her. They fell as well. For a moment she was the bringer of death and none were immune.

It wasn't until, arrow loaded and ready to fire, did she open her eyes and look around to see none were left alive. Returning the arrow to the quiver, Galadwen half fell and half ran down the side of the ditch and scrambled up the far side. Slipping in blood as she climbed over the still warm bodies of her foe, she frantically tore at the orc pile. Heaving and shoving bodies off, Galadwen searched desperately for her companion, her protector, and her saviour. She found Gwennor's arm first. Then following it she found the ruined bloody mess that was his armoured torso. And finally, she freed his head. With his eyes closed, she thought Gwennor was dead. Then he coughed, a trickle of blood escaping his mouth and running down his chin.

"Gwennor," Galadwen said softly, as she wiped the blood from his mouth. He blinked open his grey eyes, focusing them on her. "We did it, the orcs are dead. We are safe," she said.

He gave her a shaky smile as his face steadily lost its colour. "Good," he whispered, coughing again. No blood came up, but Galadwen could hear it bubbling in his chest with every pained breath he took. "You are not safe Galadwen. More will come. You must go. Run and don't stop until you reach the Gladden Fields. Only then will you be safe."

"I can not leave you," she replied. "You need a medic."

"No," he whispered. "I am beyond a medic. The halls of Mandos call to me now." A deep horn of the orcs sounded, followed by the barking growls of a warg pack. "They are coming. Take my arrows," he said, trying to free his second quiver from his back. With each movement, pain flashed across his face. Galadwen tried to ease his pain by helping him with the quiver.

"I can not leave you for the orcs," she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

"Fear not Galadwen, for they will not find me alive," he replied as he slowly unsheathed a dagger from his waist. His face was as white as bone and his shallow breathing was slowing. "Go," he said.

"No," she cried as tears left tracks down her face. "I will not leave you."

His words were barely gasps of air now. "I do not want to suffer anymore," he gasped, his eyes pleading with her. "Go. Run."

With tears dripping from her chin and mixing with his blood, she bent and kissed his forehead.

"Thank you," she said, burning his face into her memory. He gave her a smile, as much in relief as anything. Seeing the relief in his eyes steadied Galadwen's resolve as she stood. The warg growls were getting nearer now, and her sword was humming loudly in the back of her mind. Hooking Gwennor's quiver to her back, she gave him a final nod of thanks and farewell, then with tears blurring her vision, she turned and ran for the cliffs.