Easterlings marched through the city, trying to push the city guard back across the river, though knowing they had to few troops. Guards stood their ground, fighting to their end in a desperate attempt to let those who were trapped in that section of the city, to run and flee.
Cynhaer raced through the city, his arms folded protectively over the child who cried loudly. He knew exactly where to go to, exactly who would protect him. He made his way across the alley ways, trying to escape the fate of those who had stayed in the city, the easterlings showed no mercy, not even to the weak.
He found the man at the bank, waiting with two horses. His head had become grayed over time, his worn hands had seen work, his face had seen many years. His name, was Aedicus, the woodworker, Cynraede's grandfather. He looked to the two, his face wrought with sadness as his shaky voice spoke.
"Where.. Where is she.."
Cynhaer rushed to the man, placing the child in his arms as he turned around, hearing the armor not far from them. He wrapped him in his blanket, and shoved a metal object into the mans hand, looking to him with a tear strewn face.
"She fell.. She drew steel and killed four, I tried to reach her but could not. There is no time, take him and go! They are not far behind!"
Cynhaer watched as he mounted the horse carefully with the child, turning around as he heard the armored foot fall behind him, drawing his steel and slashing in a fluid movement, gashing the mans chest open. It was not long, before there were four, then eight moving to him, their numbers growing as he dropped to his knees.
The horse galloped across the field, her hooves sounding as thunder upon the earth as she rode for not just her life, but the two that rode with her. She heard the cries of the child, sobbing loudly as the man tried to hush him. Tears rolling down his own eyes as he tried to contain his sobs, holding the reins tightly as they made their way to the white city of Gondor.
