Because my brain decided to wake up at 4:30 am this morning, and because tomorrow is shaping up to be rather busy, I am posting the chapter earlier than expected. So yay for insomnia? Anyway, here it is. I hope you are all having a good day. :)


CHAPTER VIII

WHEN DARKNESS COMES

"We should ready the plants today, and break camp by tomorrow," Feran told them as they broke their fast on a cool, grey morning.

The company had grown restless over the past few days. And since there had been no further sign of Orcs, they figured it was a good time to gather their things and make for the Gladden Fields.

The company finished their meal in short order, then went about preparing the leaves for the long ride ahead. The journey would be tiring, they knew. But Annalyn and her kin had been idle for far too long, and were eager to get underway. Some might say it was late in the season, but there was yet time to find the plants they coveted. With a bit of luck, they might even find more gearwe.

Once the leaves were wrapped and stored, Annalyn turned her attention to the clothes she had washed in a nearby stream the day prior. The garments hung on a makeshift drying line, a few paces into the forest.

When she caught sight of Aldin as he emerged from further into the woods, Annalyn called out to him. "Did you get anything?" By anything, she meant the rabbit they had spotted earlier, quietly hopping by the clothes line before disappearing into the brush.

With a frustrated shake of his head, Aldin indicated his bow. "I missed."

Her mouth quirked. "Are you certain you don't need archery lessons?"

Because her cousin was so easy-going, her teasing earned her a smile and a retort. "I would like to see you do better."

"Is that a challenge?"

"It most definitely is," he replied.

Having folded his clothing, Annalyn handed them over. Aldin gave an exaggerated bow. "Thank you, my lady. You are too kind."

Rolling her eyes, Annalyn almost threw a cloth at him, but refrained, biting back a laugh. "Go and help your father."

There was much to do, and little time to do it in. But the company was efficient, and by nightfall all was in readiness for the upcoming journey.

For the third consecutive night, the watch proved uneventful. Feran deemed it safe enough to leave before dawn.

Clad in a cloak and a fresh set of clothes, Annalyn secured her pack to her horse while her uncle and cousin checked the straps of their saddles. Once the buckles were fastened, she gathered the top portion of her hair, and tied it in a knot at the back of her head. When her kin finally mounted their horses, she did the same.

"Let us go," Feran stated. And they went.

The pre-dawn sky was devoid of stars, the valley blanketed by thin ribbons of mist. As darkness finally gave way to pale grey light, the company wound their way up the vale at a measured pace. When they came upon the trampled route left by the Orcs, they stopped to evaluate their path.

"The hordes are keeping close to the mountains. I say we give the area a wide berth for now," Feran suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Aldin said.

Preferring safety over a shorter route, Annalyn agreed at once. "Lead the way, uncle."

And so the company cut a path through the mire, and proceeded in a northeastern direction.

Swaying in her saddle, Annalyn drew a cleansing breath. It felt good to be riding again, to see new landscapes as the valley gradually fell away behind them.

When the sun finally peeked through the clouds, sometime in the late afternoon, Annalyn basked in it, for autumn was not eternal, and soon winter would arrive. Today, the wind was neither warm nor cool. As it ruffled her cloak, it carried the distant resonance of an eagle's call. A relaxed expression on her features, Annalyn pondered the land ahead. By her reckoning, they would reach the Gladden Fields within two or three days. Four at the most.

The company rode in companionable silence for most of the day. As dusk drew near, they stopped by a gurgling stream bordered by green grass and the occasional tree.

"Father has been rather quiet of late," Aldin noted as he and Annalyn were crouched by the water's edge. "Have you noticed?"

Her waterskin dripping as she pulled it from the stream, Annalyn sat up and pondered her uncle. At present, Feran was checking the sharpness of his blade, his outline haloed by the last rays of the setting sun. "He is weary, I think," she admitted. "Wants to see us home safely."

"Home," Aldin echoed, his eyes alight with warmth. "It will be nice getting back." With his legs stretched out beneath him, he looked to the south, toward the grassy plains that lay far beyond the present horizon. He sighed. "I miss the mead-hall, and mead, and sleeping by the hearth when it is raining outside. And I miss…" He caught himself then, his cheeks colouring a little.

"You miss Erna," Annalyn finished for him.

Aldin shrugged at first, but she knew better. When he finally admitted it, there was a definite twinkle in his brown eyes. "I miss Erna."

"Have you decided yet?" she prodded, smiling. "Are you going to ask for her hand?"

As he stared at the horizon, his expression matched her own. "I might," he said, though his smile suggested that he intended to do just that.

Good, she thought, happy despite the fact that a small part of her envied him.

Truth be told, Annalyn had not been fortunate when it came to love. As bitter memories began to surface, she pushed them back down. She had no desire to think of him, the man who had broken her heart. Nor did she wish to revisit the day her hopes had crumbled.

Their waterskins filled to the brim, the two soon gained their feet, and made for the center of camp, where they sat for a simple supper. Without a fire, their choice was limited to a few strips of dried meat and some wild mushrooms they had picked along the way. In spite of the long and tiring ride, the evening proved rather pleasant. Even Feran seemed to be having a good time. As they ate, soft laughter surged every now and again, courtesy of Aldin's storytelling skills.

Later, as she lay beneath her blanket, Annalyn looked at the darkened sky, where a single star could be seen in a narrow gap between the clouds. By its location, she thought it might be part of the Swan whose bright wings spanned the dense river of stars that bisected the heavens. As far as celestial displays went, these overlapping features were a sight to behold—though the river was only visible on the darkest and clearest of nights. It was a shame they were hidden, she thought, though one star was better than none.

Content, Annalyn stared at the twinkling gem until the clouds moved over it. Then, closing her eyes, her body began to relax. It wasn't long before she drifted into an unexpectedly peaceful sleep.

"Annalyn!"

The alarmed call of her name jolted her awake. She flinched in fear when she realised someone was shaking her shoulder.

"Aldin?" she said in concern and confusion.

"Hurry!" he hissed in a lowered voice, then pulled her to her feet. "We cannot remain here!"

Fearful yet confused, Annalyn hastily gathered her things, and looked all about them. When her anxious gaze swept the southern horizon, their need for a hasty retreat became clear. A moving wall of shadowed silhouettes was cresting over a hill in the distance, some of them carrying torches. "Orcs?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"What else?" Aldin grasped her sleeve, and nearly dragged her with him.

When they reached the horses, Feran had already released their tethers, and was climbing in the saddle. "Make haste," he said, his gaze darting between his kin and the approaching threat.

With shaking hands, Annalyn fastened her belongings as quickly as she could, mounted then nudged her horse with her heels. The company couldn't risk a thundering gallop—it would be heard from all around—but they went as fast as they dared. As Cobalt trotted over grass, Annalyn cast a look over her shoulder, and saw that the horde was not as organised as the ones they had seen previously. Although they numbered in the hundreds, the Orcs marched in scattered groups. Some of them appeared to be riding… not horses, she decided. Wargs. Those fearsome creatures with jaws so powerful, they could render flesh and shatter bones.

Suppressing a shudder of fear, Annalyn looked ahead. The skies had cleared, and the land was swathed in the moon's bluish glow. It made riding easier and less treacherous. But it also made them more visible. In the lead, Feran urged his horse toward a wooded area. Annalyn and Aldin followed.

Now the forest swallowed them. Their horses slowed to a walk. It was utterly dark in here. But as Annalyn's eyes started to adjust, she discerned her uncle's silhouette, then Aldin's as he came up beside her. They rode on.

The ground was uneven, dipping and rising beneath the old, weathered trees. At first, the horses' hooves fell silent on beds of pine needles, but as the company came upon a stream—most likely a tributary of the River Gladden—they clopped and echoed on hard, rocky ground. The sound echoed out into the night, making them cringe. They halted at once.

With any luck, the Orcs had neither heard nor seen them, and would be moving from the general area before long.

It was nerve-racking, the wait seemingly endless. With her uncle and cousin on either side of her, Annalyn held tightly to the reins, and eyed the surrounding forest with trepidation. The boughs of the trees formed a suffocating roof that obscured much of the moonlight. As Cobalt stamped his feet, Annalyn absently patted the side of his neck in hopes that it would soothe his nerves. The air felt thick in here. Almost like an enclosed space. Nothing stirred. Nothing moved. Even the stream appeared reticent, its silent waters so sluggish hardly a ripple could be seen.

The company was in a heightened state of awareness, would exchange worried glances at any and all sounds—from creaking branches, to a falling leaf.

Endless moments went by. After what felt like hours, Feran nudged his horse closer to the stream, where he looked around, and listened some more.

"Do you think they've gone?" Aldin ventured at last, his voice low.

The sound of wing beats and raucous cries suddenly pierced the night, startling them. Flinching, they looked up in time to see a murder of crows taking off from nearby branches, as though they had been frightened by something.

The birds faded into the night, leaving a disconcerting silence in their wake. The horses pranced nervously. Annalyn looked to her kin, saw her fear mirrored in their eyes. From somewhere in the forest, the company soon deciphered a sound, faint at first, then progressively louder. Heavy footsteps, with a definite metal clang. And harsh voices as well.

There was no mistaking whom and what they were.

Desperate to elude the Orcs, Annalyn and her kin spurred their horses in the opposite direction.

"There!" a foul voice yelled suddenly. "Up ahead!"

They had been spotted.

Things became a blur after that. As they rode further into the night, veering this way and that between the trees, the company did their best to stay together. Just when she thought they were in the clear, Annalyn deciphered the unmistakable shape of a Warg-rider at the edge of her sight.

Though the beast remained in their periphery for now, it kept pace with them, chilling her blood as it howled and growled in the night.

"Annalyn!" Feran called out to her as his horse started down an incline, his son riding on his left flank. Eyes widening, Annalyn realised that she had diverged from their path, and was now riding on a rising section of forest. To her immediate left was a sheer drop that was at least twice her height. No!

Unable to double-back, Annalyn looked for a way to join her kin, but could not find any. "Go!" she urged them as they drew rein below. "I will find you!"

Even in the dark, their distress was as palpable as her own. Left with no other option, Feran and Aldin nodded, and nudged their horses onward.

"I will find you," Annalyn repeated on a choked whisper, tearing her tearful gaze from theirs as she rode on. In hopes of gaining speed, she leaned forward in her saddle and spoke over the loud hammering of her heart. "Run, my friend!"

Her faithful horse did as he was told.

Glancing over her shoulder, she looked for the Warg-rider, but could not see it. For a fleeting instant, she wondered if it had broken off its pursuit, but then decided it was unlikely. Either it had followed her kin, or else the horrid creature was stalking her at a distance, prolonging the chase until her horse fell over from sheer exhaustion. The growl that soon reached her ears told her it was the latter.

For a time, it felt as though the forest was working against her. Like gnarled hands, the trees seemed to be grasping at her, and they were closing in. A branch even caught in her hair, pulling at the tangled strands before snapping as she rode on. But then, without warning, the forest opened onto a clearing. With narrowed eyes, Annalyn looked far into the gloom. This wasn't a clearing at all, but open land.

Exposed and vulnerable, Annalyn shot a glance over her shoulder in time to see the Warg-rider emerge from the forest. Her fear turned to despair. She urged her horse to an ever faster run. Little good that will do, she thought miserably, for Wargs were incredibly fast, faster than horses—even those from Rohan.

Annalyn had been in harrowing situations before, had known fear. Just not like this. Gathering what was left of her tattered courage, she sought the hilt of her blade and pulled it from its sheath.

If she was to meet her end, then so be it. But she would not go without a fight.

As she accepted her fate—whatever it might be—a strange calm came over her. And in that moment, Annalyn's thoughts shifted to the ones she loved: her uncle and cousin, the only people left in her life. Please be safe, she thought, then silently bid them farewell. Just in case.

Cobalt ran at breakneck speed, his hooves thundering as he went. At length, he came to a sudden drop in the terrain and nearly toppled over. After skidding to a stop, he gave a loud neigh, then rose on his hind legs. The jolt startled Annalyn. She gasped, lost her grip, and fell to the ground with such force it knocked the wind right out of her.

Annalyn sat dazed for a moment. Blinking hard, she briefly shook her head, and looked up. Cobalt was fleeing, neighing loudly as he faded into the gloom. As if that wasn't bad enough, she had lost her sword as well.

Before she could even look for it, cruel laughter sounded from nearby. She froze. Her innards turned to water.

Swallowing against her fear, Annalyn somehow gained her feet. On trembling legs, she turned and saw that her pursuer had slowed, and was now creeping closer.

"Lost your steed?" it mocked. There was a malicious gleam in the Orc's yellow eyes.

Her inner calmness had long since shattered. Annalyn was scared out of her wits, her tunic dampened by cold sweat. Unwilling to cower before this filth, however, she lifted her chin in defiance, said nothing.

"I see you've lost your tongue as well." The Orc lifted its scimitar, its mouth curled into a hideous smile. "No matter. You won't need it." With that, it snarled and dug its heels into the beast that bore it. The Warg pounced. But as it leapt, something pierced the air, and shot into its neck.

Unable to process what was happening, Annalyn watched as the beast fell, twisting and growling before growing still. The rider, on the other hand, was stunned but unscathed. Scrambling to its feet, the Orc looked about with wild fury until it, too, was struck down by a single arrow.

Annalyn remained rooted as the Orc's body crashed to the ground, and stared at the horrible creature until something moved into the edge of her vision. She looked toward it, saw... "It cannot be."


Here I go with my end notes again, but I really do need to thank you all for taking time out of your busy days to read this fanfic. Words cannot express how thankful I am for the comments, favs, and follows this story has received. Seriously, you guys rock. For those who are interested in continuing the journey, the next chapter should be ready within a week or so. Again, THANK YOU!

Kindest regards,

CygnusRift