"You fool!" Roared Saruman.

The wizard was not known to lose control of his emotions. He knew how to exact complete control over his feelings. Able to render those weaker than him speechless with the slightest of looks. This time the impatient man was outraged beyond all belief. The plan that he had meticulously organised and put together was falling apart at the seams. The princess had vanished and prince Theodred had shown no signs of picking up her trail, or falling in line with his machinations. Before too long the plan would be rendered useless and all the wizards effort be brought to nothing.

"Forgive master...I do not know what happened." Grima drawled almost sobbing.

"The girl is gone you imbecile. We must act quickly to remedy the situation." The wizard screamed back.

"Yes my lord...what is your command?" The worm asked willingly.

Saruman laughed cruelly at the pathetic creature, "Do you take me for a simpleton Wormtongue?"

"Er...no...m-master." He stammered nervously.

"A situation as delicate as this I cannot entrust to you. We must draw out the prince and attack with our full force...only then can we continue as planned."

The feeble man looked at the wizard in shocked awe as Saruman continued, "My Uruk-Hai will finish the job where you so miserably failed. They will attack at the mouth of the River Isen. The prince will not risk his people's safety...and will meet a force ten times stronger than ever seen before."

Grima bowed shakily. The greasy man had seen the full might and destruction that Saruman's half-breed orcs could deliver. The were infinitely more terrifying than anything he could have imagined.

o0o

The light was fading, the wind was silent and the river flowed slowly. A small opening in the wooded area gave Theodred and his men a great vantage point. They were concealed well beneath the canopy from weather and the enemy, but close enough to fresh water and dry wood. If need be they could be camped there for many weeks before they would need to venture back to Edoras for provisions. They had been fortunate since they'd arrived and hadn't been caught in long and difficult combat. The only complaint his men had was the lack of soft bedding and welcome female company, but such was the life of a soldier. Theodred's Riders knew what they had signed up for. To know that their liege-lord fought and lived alongside them, offered them great comfort and succour.

Despite their success, the crown prince was restless and concerned. They had received reports of a band of orcs routing along the edges of the Mark, just north of the Isen. Scouts had caught sight of them on several occasions and driven them back. But their behaviour seemed strange and uncalculated. They attacked at several points along the great river, but never once tried to venture through it and directly onto Rohan lands. IT was difficult to decipher if it was the same group or different numbers at each point. What were they up to?

Theodred mused over this thought in his battle tent. It was larger than all the other structures in the Riders camp. It wasn't for comfort that Theodred and his captains had it erected, but for planning strategies and reviewing reports. In the centre of the canvas room stood a large circular table. A great map of the lands of Rohan covered most of the wooden surface. Miniature horsemen were scattered all over the map representing the actual soldiers that Theodred had encamped along the Isen. There was one miniature for every Eored that the warrior prince had under his command. Alarmingly the other figures that littered the map were model interpretations of the foul creatures that Theodred and his men had sighted over the previous week. At present they outnumbered the horsemen three to one.

"What are you planning?" He voiced out loud.

At that moment a cry came from outside the tent, "To arms...to arms!"

Theodred grabbed his helmet from the chair he had left it on and ran with all haste outside. From just the other side of the clearing came the most thunderous roar. A terrifying battle cry that cannot be described, but it shook the hardened soldier to his very core. The orcs were attacking in full force. Hundreds of the beasts seemed to be crossing the Isen with ease. Of course how could he have been so stupid? This was their plan all along. The recent run-ins had been probing parties, sent to evaluate how many men he had and where they were stationed. Tonight they would fight.

"Riders of Rohan...fall in line!" Theodred shouted calmly as he ran towards the front of his army.

His men complied with well trained ease. They were seasoned soldiers whom were battle ready, and would follow their prince to death if need be. The stood behind Theodred, each man with either a sword or spea in hand. Each one carrying a wooden shield of the Mark. There was no need to mount their horses. The land was short and the natural advantage of an open field charge was lacking. No, tonight they would fight on foot, fight to survive.

As the menacing creatures made their way across the river, they were waylaid somewhat as they reached the middle of the water. Every man there knew those waters well, and although they were somewhat deeper in the middle, the foul beasts should not have been stopped so easily in their tracks. Despite their unnatural strength, they lumbered through the water showing their weakness. Their weight.

"Hold fast men...these creatures are hulking masses of shit. Tonight we lay waste to them...and will use their bodies to fertilise the ground that they come to take. Move quickly...a moving target is much harder to kill. Fear not...we will prevail!"

Theodred hoped his words boosted his men's resolve and that they would live through the night. Before the prince could complete this thought the Uruk's were upon them. The once calm air was now alive with the harmonious clash of steel on steel. The landscape painted black by the blood of the enemy that had threatened to destroy it. The once clear waters of the Isen ran red with the gore of the fallen Riders that had sworn to protect it. The Uruk's fought hard, but the Rohirrim were smarter, using their opponent's strength against them. The battle was long and lasted until the sun was beginning to rise. There were losses on both sides, but the Riders were successful. When the fight was over the men cheered their victory and said silent prayers for their fallen friends.

Prince Theodred and his captain reconvened in the battle tent, just as the sun peaked over the trees and scenes of slaughter.

"Well done my lord." Elfhelm spoke plainly. There was no joy in his voice, more from exhaustion than shock.

"It isn't over Elfhelm. I fear that was only the first of the fighting...the great battle is still to come."

Theodred pointed to the miniature figures as he explained, "They attacked with only a fraction of their forces. If our scouts are to be believed, they will be back with a number twice that size."

"What are your orders my prince?" A younger captain asked cautiously.

"We must send for reinforcements. Muster the Eored's from Snowbourne, Fenmarch and Aldburg, with all due haste."

A/N - Apologies this chapter is so short. I found it difficult to write the battle sequence. Hopefully you get the point and it doesn't seemed too rushed. R&R, thanks Mrs-E x