The measured, even steps of the soldiers covered the distance to the outposts as one unit. Hers was out of time – one and a half steps for each one of theirs. The two behind her did not seem to mind. It did not impede them in the least from carrying the same rhythm. How long had they been marching today? The sun betrayed nothing. Only the canopy of the forest grew denser and the darkness thickened as they trekked further south. Ahead, she heard the officer debriefing the Tûrdirith.
“They are testing our boundaries. Looking for the weakest point. Naturally, each post is equally well guarded. Two days ago, they made a frontal attack to the East; the closest the have ever managed thus far. However, they were pushed back and we have not had any trouble since.”
“Any injuries?”
“Only the minor kind, hîr. They have all had time enough to rest.”
The councillor nodded, giving the officer a steady but reassuring look. “Your defence here provides us a great measure of security.” Then, he turned to look at the soldiers behind him with the same kind expression. Had the long march fatigued them, no sign of it would be apparent as they straightened and stood at attention. Though clad in simple, dark leather armour like themselves, the Tûrdirith’s position called for elegant stitching, a cloak of finer materials, and decorated shoulders that none of the soldiers had missed. Even without these, the councillor’s reputation as a celebrated warrior and strategist preceded his arrival. The bearing of a military commander was still within him. “Your relief is less than a fortnight away and your arrival back to the halls will be most welcomed,” the Tûrdirith continued, allowing the soldiers a glimpse of his smile. Then he turned his attention back to the commanding officer. “Where was this attack you speak of?”
“We can change our course if you wish to see for yourself, hîr.”
The councillor nodded once, slower this time. “Lead us within sight, but I would maintain our course for today.” Though the councillor kept his gaze foward, the officer turned to regard the elleth at the back of the formation. His eyes met hers and she looked away. A simple sword hung at her side. She knew how to use it, but no soldier was she. The officer and councillor understood as much, so they would not risk an excursion to a recent skirmish point.
“Of course, hîr,” the officer responded and began to lead the way.
She could almost feel the scrutinizing attention of the soldier around her, though they did not look her way. They picked up their pace and she stumbled along among their ranks. Her eyes were not as accustomed to this kind of darkness as theirs were.
Her legs were beginning to tire and her skin was chafing under the light armour, when the unit suddenly halted. Up ahead, the officer had raised his hand and was speaking hurriedly with a slim figure, hooded in dark clothes. She had almost not noticed the scout; his armour was the very colour of the trees and the gloom around him. Her ears strained to hear their conversation.
“…another attack at…this larger…we…reinforcements…”
Without an audible signal, seven of the ten elves around her stepped out of the formation and ran after the scout into the trees ahead, falling into a new unit.
“Tûrdirith, I would suggest that we veer our course back westwards.”
The councillor hesitated, staring after the soldiers who had just disappeared, with his hand on the hilt of his weapon.
“Hîr…,” the officer tried again.
Relaxing the grasp on his sword, he turned towards the small group of remaining elves. He nodded his consent.
As if it had been awaiting his signal, an arrow shot through the branches from their left and pierced the elf beside the councillor on the shoulder. The soldier staggered back with a grunt but held his ground as the others all drew their weapons. Quickly, they assumed their positions in front of the Tûrdirith, as a large band of orcs came rushing towards them with a large cry.
Stricken with fear, she had only enough time to leap aside as a sword came down on her from above. Raising the sword at her side, she blocked each blow, but they were coming in too swiftly. Her head snapped around. She needed help. But the others were surrounded. Three to one. There were too many orcs. No, she should not be looking around! She needed to keep her eyes on the orc in front of her. Where did they come from? Parry. Parry. Block to the right. To the left now. A fierce roar sounded from her right. Countless orcs lay on the ground where the Tûrdirith had made a clearing for the other soldiers to retreat.
Shing!
Her fingers felt all too empty as the hilt of her sword left her grasp and she saw shiny metal glint through the air before getting sucked into the black void around her. The orc in front of her stuck out his leg behind her ankle and she felt herself falling.
Was it her lack of depth perception in this mirky gloom or was her descent slowed? The clatter and clash of weapons dulled and she could almost feel the rush of air behind her as her body fell toward the earth. All she saw and heard was the councillor with his arm outstretched towards her, calling her name, “Merenell!” But he was too far away, still.
That was the first time she had ever seen fear on her father’s face.
