Note: Chapter 3 has been edited as of July 5 2015.

Chapter Five

From her perch in the tree, Susan watched her companions brace themselves for a fight. They moved into a rough triangle formation, adjusting weapons as they went. Gimli calmly double checked the bindings on his axe. Gandalf produced a sword from under his white cloak, which surprised Susan. She had rather thought that he, like the priests of Earth, would refuse to shed blood. Legolas loosened his paired swords and selected an arrow. Susan shifted, prepared to jump down and join them.

"Stay in the tree, Susan," said Legolas urgently. "We will need an archer above."

"Sharp eyes," said Gandalf. "Look for movement in the trees." An arrow shot out of the trees as he spoke. Gandalf dodged, and the shaft sank into the earth below Susan's tree. Immediately, Legolas and Susan shot into the trees where the arrow had come from; before their arrows reached the trees, their attackers flooded the clearing.

Orcs - Susan assumed they were Orcs - were hideous. Humanoid, their charred skin seemed slightly slimy in the firelight, and their faces reminded Susan of the mummified pharaohs she has seen in the Victoria and Albert Museum on one of her days off. Their appearance surprised Susan enough to throw her aim off slightly: she had been aiming at an eye and wound up placing the arrow through her target's throat.

Gandalf was a white whirlwind in the middle of one group of Orcs, cracking skulls and slicing through armour with his staff and sword. Susan made a mental note that the Wizard was ambidextrous, much like Lucy. Gimli cleared a small space to the left of Susan's tree with well placed swings of his axe. Legolas, to the right of her tree, had put up his bow and was carving through that flank with his paired swords.

One Orc, much larger than the rest, seemed to be giving orders. As she picked off the Orcs trying to get in attacks from behind her companions, Susan kept an eye on the big one. Finally she found an opening, and shot. The Orc turned, and instead of going clear through his ear, it struck his eye. He roared and charged at Susan. She shot one more of the Orcs around Gimli and picked up her sword.

As the huge Orc crashed into the tree, Susan jumped. She managed to clear her opponent's head and landed heavily on the ground in front of the fire pit. Rolling to her feet, she instinctively brought up her sword. The big orc's heavy two-handed sword crashed down onto her blade, and Susan staggered. She dodged away and slashed at the Orc's wrist. He blocked easily, his rasping guttural laugh devoid of any warmth.

Susan could do nothing but block the onslaught, her arms aching in ways that reminded her exactly how out of shape she was. There was a good chance that she was about to die; she had no army to support her, no brave siblings to help her last minute. Peter would not be coming to help. Edmund would not be making an opening for her to deal the killing blow. Lucy wouldn't give her magic cordial to heal her when this was over.

Susan hadn't quite realized how much she relied on her siblings. Nor how much she missed them.

Suddenly, an axe embedded itself in the Orc's knee. A pair of swords caught the broadsword coming down towards her. A white staff trapped the Orc's head and a silvery blue sword slashed through the Orc's Achilles tendon. Susan took the opening and stabbed up under the breastplate and through the diaphragm to the heart. Stepping back, she looked at her travelling companions.

"Thank you," she said.

"Any time," said Gimli gruffly. "Couldna let ye get killed, naow could we?"

"Here," said Legolas, shifting her quiver. "Stroke this and the arrows will return to the quiver so you will never have need of new ones."

"Fancy design," said Gimli.

"So those were Orcs, then?" asked Susan.

"Indeed they were," said Gandalf. "They are an unfortunate race. Made to thwart Men and Elves, with both of those races mixed in. Orcs live by violence and are made for violence, which makes them a great army for my kind. Sauron and Saruman made good use of them."

"I do not recognize these markings," said Legolas. "They are neither the white hand of Isengard nor the black tower of Mordor."

"They look like red flowers," said Susan.

"Morwen's, then," said Gandalf. "The survivors of the Rout of Mordor would have gone to her. She is the nearest dark warlord there is."

"Then we cannae stay here," said Gimli.

"Indeed, we must find a different campsite," said Gandalf.

"Lead the way," said Susan. "Staying with corpses is unsettling."

"Perhaps the next site will be less active," said Legolas. Quickly, he climbed up the tree and looked out into the forest. "About a half-mile away is another small clearing with a stream. We should camp there."

"Lead on," said Gandalf. "I will bring up the rear."

The four of them ducked into the woods, hands on their weapons and ears alert in the dark. Now was the perfect time for an ambush, and they were all too tired from their run to guarantee victory. Legolas led them through the path of least resistance, pointing out rocks and fallen trees for them to avoid. Susan truly appreciated his ability to see in the dark, as she was sure that she would have hurt herself more than once had Legolas not guided them.

"Shield your eyes for a moment," said Gandalf, lighing up the new clearing with a soft glow from his staff. Susan blinked a few times as her sight adjusted. There were more sheltered places at this site. Gimli huffed and chose a cleft rock for his place. Susan selected a spot under a tree near him. Gandalf wrapped himself in his cloak on the far side of Gimli's rock. Legolas perched in the tree above Susan.

"Sleep well, all," said Susan.

"Goodnight Susan," murmured Gandalf. "Tomorrow is another journey."