Arial
A Horse with No Name
Chapter Eight
by Bethuviel
Disclaimer: The estate of J.R.R. Tolkien owns all recognizable characters from the works of literature encompassing The Lord of The Rings. I have received no compensation for any work I have written and/or published on this site.
Author's note: All reviews, whether critical or applauding are appreciated.
oOo
The dark haze slowly receded from Arial's mind as she pulled her head up from its resting place on her right arm. She forced her eyes to open as she wiggled her hands. Pain shot up through her arms from the weight of her body interfering with the circulation of blood. She almost screamed out but bit her tongue instead when the memory of her capture and torture flooded her mind. She twisted her head around and saw the orcs. They were asleep; including one who she thought was probably supposed to be on watch for the group. She looked at her wounded hand and tentatively wiggled her fingers. The pinky finger was bandaged and there was a brown substance smeared over the length of the entire finger. She thought it was a miracle that she did not feel any pain.
She grit her teeth as the sensation of needles ran up and down her arms. Arial wanted to jump and flail around but she held still, not wanting to attract anymore unnecessary attention. She controlled her breathing much like a woman in labor. When her arms returned to a normal aching, Arial pulled against the ropes, leaning away with the weight of her body and digging the heels of her feet into the dirt below her for added leverage. She could feel the rope stretch and give slightly. She relaxed and caught a few deep breaths before attempting again.
Without warning the rope snapped and Arial fell sideways, hanging by one arm. She scrambled to get her feet beneath her and stood up. She searched the camp for signs of the orcs waking up and saw two roll over in their sleep. Arial twisted and untied the knot on her other hand, then bent and freed her feet. She saw the horse tethered a few feet from her and smiled at her fortune.
On tip-toes she crept over to the animal, which nuzzled her with its nose when she stood beside it. Surprised, but grateful for the friendly greeting, Arial thought that the horse probably did not like the orcs any better than she. Arial led the horse away from the camp as quietly as they both could walk, then, when feeling safe she grabbed onto the mane and pulled herself up and onto its back. She did her best impression of a cowboy on a quick getaway and rode into the night. Arial was too frightened to slow or look back. She rode with her face inches above the horse's neck, hanging on for dear life. The horse sensed the urgency of their situations and rode for freedom.
Finally, the horse slowed and Arial sat upright. She did not realize how tense she had been until she felt herself exhale. She unclenched her teeth, and examined her wounded hand. There was no sign of fresh bleeding. She was afraid to remove the bandage from her finger. She could still feel the orc sucking on her finger and she gagged.
"Should have been nicer to Elrond…" she spoke to the horse. Arial patted the neck of her partner and said, "Thank you for helping me escape. Now we're both free. You got a name?" She paused and waited. "You're just a normal horse!" She had half expected the horse to reply to her question and was surprised when it did not answer her back. "Well, finally, some normalcy. Say, you don't do anything weird do you?" The horse rolled its eyes back at Arial. "No, good. I'm glad. I've had all the excitement I think I can stand." She laid her injured hand in her lap and held onto the mane of her ride with her other hand. "Got any idea how to get to Bree? That's where I'm headed." The horse continued to plod along. Arial looked at the night sky and shook her head. She had no idea where she was, or even where they were headed. She was just glad she was away from the orcs.
"I should have listened," she spoke again to the horse. "I shoulda let the elves help me then I'd still have all my finger." She was amazed that it did not throb from pain. "I wish I knew what that brown goo was, could make a million off that stuff." As she rode, she looked at her finger. Water spilled from her eyes and streaked down her face. She felt sorry for herself, and the loss of part of her pinky finger. Tears fell from her chin and dropped onto her hand causing Arial to start to wail like a two year old child.
"I want my momme e e eee…" She cried. Arial turned into a blubbering mess as the stars shined down upon her. "Gawwwd" She wailed. "Why! Why! Why me?" She sputtered. She lay back down on the neck of the horse and continued to cry until she fell asleep.
oOo
Arial woke the next morning to the sound of voices. She flinched and saw people standing around her. She hurriedly wiped her eyes and mouth. She stared at the men surrounding her, not sure what to do.
"Don't worry miss, we'll not harm you." Said a tall skinny man with a beard.
"That's good to know, hi, I'm Arial," she rattled out at an incredible speed. Her finger was starting to throb and Arial held her hand against her chest. She hoped that her 'howdy' would waylay what seemed the normal introductions in fantasy land.
The men nodded their heads at her and one stepped forward. "Hello, I'm Tomas and these men are my companions," he pointed to each as he told her their names, "Richard, Harold."
Arial hid a smirk, thinking to herself, "Great, now I've met every Tom, Dick and Harry on the way. All I need is a yellow brick road and a little dog named Toto, too!"
She said aloud, "Nice to meet cha. Where you fellas headed?" The men gave her a strange look and considered her words.
"We were traveling to the village of Bree and had rested here overnight when your horse rode into our camp this morning when were preparing to leave," explained Tomas.
"Well, I just barely escaped from a bunch of nasty orcs who took off part of my finger," she held out her hand for them to see. The men gasped at her revelation and began looking in several directions with worry etched on their faces, "and I'd appreciate it if'n you could see fit to let me hitch along with yens."
"You poor child." Sympathized Richard. "Where's your family. Surely you're not traveling alone?"
"I'm lost. Trying to find my way back home. Yeah, I'm alone."
Harold stepped forward and patted her horse on its nose. "You're traveling with us."
"Do you remember where you met the orcs?" Asked Tomas.
"Back that way," Arial gestured behind her, hoping she was right, "That is if the horse traveled straight. I fell asleep sometime in the night."
The men led her on the horse as they traveled and bombarded her with questions of her capture and escape. Arial answered truthfully, and for once, without her usual sarcastic tone. She was grateful not to be alone, with humans, and felt like her newfound friends were trustworthy. But when questioned about her home, her answers were vague. The men noticed, but did not push her, assuming that she was still in shock and that her ordeal with the orcs had somehow interfered with her ability to remember specifics. They offered her water and food which she consumed with fierce greed.
They stopped at noon for a brief rest and Tomas sat down beside Arial on a rock. "Let me look at your hand, Arial."
She was cautious at first but then she gave him her hand. He slowly removed the bandage and gasped when he saw her finger. "Looks like they used some kind of their medicine on it. Worked well. The end of the finger has formed a solid crust and doesn't look like its getting infected." Tomas looked at Arial before continuing, "I'm somewhat of a healer, Arial." He turned away, "Richard, will you bring me my medicine bag and some water?"
A few minutes later Richard appeared with the items in hand. Tomas rummaged through his bag, removing various items. Richard put water into a small pot and waited for it to come to a boil, already familiar with Tomas' routine. When it had reached the desired temperature, he removed the pot from the fire and delivered it to Tomas as well.
Tomas allowed the water to cool a few seconds before adding herbs. Arial watched everything the two men did with rapt attention. She supposed they were making the medicine the "old fashioned way." She found it to be quaint.
After a few minutes, Tomas dabbed a clean cloth into the herbal mixture and said to Arial, "This may sting a little, but it is necessary to clean your wound and hand, Arial." She nodded and held her breath, waiting for the promised pain. She felt the damp cloth rub against her skin, removing the unknown substance the orc had applied. At first as her skin began to breath she felt a pleasant tingling sensation and she smiled. Her smile quickly changed to a grimace as Tomas continued to clean her wounded finger. She could feel the stinging travel up her arm and explode through her nervous system. Arial clinched her free hand into a fist and tried not to squirm.
"Almost done," Tomas reassured her. "There, all done." He wrapped her finger with clean bandages and Arial ventured a peek at her hand. A clean cup filled to the brim with a liquid that stank and made Arial's eyes water was shoved under her chin. "Drink this, Arial," said Tomas. "It will keep your finger from hurting."
"What's gonna keep me from puking that stuff up. Gads! That crap stinks!" She snarled her nose and turned away. Tomas put his hand under her chin and turned her head back to the cup.
"I know it smells bad, but I promise, it helps with the pain and soon, you are going to need this. The herbs I cleaned your hand with also deaden pain, but only for a short time. Drink Arial." He spoke with a tone that Arial recognized as from an authority figure and she knew she had no choice but to comply with Tomas' wishes.
Arial sat up straight; readying herself for what she assumed would be the vilest tasting mixture she had ever the misfortune to drink and said before she gulped it down, "Can't argue with the doctor's orders." She bent over and gagged. Arial stuck her tongue out and pulled it back into her mouth again, scraping her tongue against her teeth to remove the film left behind. "Saints preserve me!" She yelled out. Arial coughed up phlegm from her throat and spat it onto the ground. She had paled slightly and looked at Tomas.
"This isn't one of those instances where 'if the cure don't kill you', is it?" She asked.
He cocked his head to one side and after a few moments began to laugh, at last understanding the strange phrase. "No. It will not kill you, I promise. But now if Richard or Harold had made the tea…"
Richard and Harold looked at Tomas with grins on their faces. Arial stopped gagging and joined in the laughter.
An hour had passed when the travelers broke their small camp and remounted their horses. Arial was in no hurry. Her backside was sore and her thighs ached. She was not used to riding but she did not complain aloud. She was grateful that she did not have to walk.
The landscape passed slowly by Arial who quickly became bored. She wondered how these people stood living like they were in the middle ages. She wanted to ask Tomas if she could borrow his cell phone, but refrained for fear of more awkward situations. She did not feel any pain from her finger but her head felt like she had an inner ear infection where she had no balance. She had a hard time focusing her vision and she had to concentrate to stay atop of her horse. She wondered if she was experiencing a side effect of the tea.
"Say Tomas," she slurred, "is that tea sa' posed to make you feel funny?" She slid slightly and caught herself before she fell off the horse.
The men looked at each other. Tomas winked at Richard before replying, "It will be alright, Arial. We will stop and make camp here for the night."
Tomas dismounted and handed his reigns to Harold. "You need rest, Arial." Tomas helped her down while Richard laid out a pallet on the ground for her to sleep on. "Here you are, child." Tomas helped her to lie down and covered her with a blanket. He watched her eyes close and knew she would not wake until afternoon the next day. He turned away and found a place to sit down.
"Richard, Harold, she's out. Won't be waking up anytime soon." He stretched back and propped himself on his saddle that Harold had placed behind him.
"Tomas, what do you think we'll get for her?" Asked Harold.
"Well, if she still has her maiden head, more than most. That is if we can get her to Rohan in one piece and meet with the traders before they move on to Edhelland."
Richard sat down across from Tomas and Harold. "But she's damaged with that hand of hers."
"True, but not so on her face, or the rest of her body," replied Tomas.
"How do you know? You haven't seen her body," interjected Harold.
"We can remedy that. Let's have a look see, shall we?" Tomas stood up and walked over to the sleeping form of Arial. "Mind you both, just a look. She'll be as good as worthless if she's used." The others nodded their understanding as Tomas bent down and began undressing Arial.
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