Turns out there were three warg riders and the rest were a gaggle of Orcs. Fifteen in total.

I was standing before one of the ugly dogs who was charging me. It lunged with jaws open and teeth bared.

Raising my sword, I thrust the blade up through its mouth and into its brain. The warg screamed before sinking to the ground. I ripped out my sword to meet the rider as he jumped from the saddle with a mace in his hand.

He swung at my head wildly and something told me he was grinning.

I had taken out most of his friends but some had been chasing after Aragorn.

The whole time I was fighting, I was praying to whoever could hear me, that my king would be safe.

I danced out of the way of the mace before slicing through his stomach and letting out everything it contained. As the Orc bled out to death on the ground, I found that I was alone.

The pain in my shoulder was from an arrow embedded there.

Damn, I was tired.

So tired…

Maybe that was from my blood loss?

I staggered over to the corpse of a warg that I had almost decapitated. It smelled of carcass and musty wet fur.

But I didn't care.

I sat down and leaned up against the body.

"I'm sorry Ada...I tried...I...tried, that's all I could...have done…" I whispered, breathing heavily from a hard-earned battle.

If I died here, I would be taking ten with me.

I took them by surprise, without warning, springing up from the tall grass upon a warg and taking their lives. The company was so thrown off, so shocked, that I quickly disposed of many before they could grasp what was happening.

Five though, including a warg rider, escaped.

I gritted my teeth to shove the mental image of the warg tearing Aragorn's carcass apart.

"Forgive me…"