Fotnotes:
*SA = Second Age.
(The story continues directly from the previous part)
Hardor yells at the horse, whipping it, hurrying it to the maximum of what it can endure.
Sador and Harthad have their bows ready as the band of mounted knights are slowly gaining on them.
Sador counts at least sixty of them.
They are still to far away for them to use their arrows.
Sador gazes out on the field of fleeing brethren. Some stand to fight - a fight they know they cannot win - but they are just too tired to run.
The mounted Gondorian soldiers and the mounted knights are chasing every Wainrider on their way, slaying them as they ride past them.
No quarters seems to be given for the deeds the Wainriders have accomplished here today...
Accomplished...
Sador ponders on the word... Accomplished... they have accomplished nothing!
The word just sends a foul taste in Sador's mouth.
Sador's eyes wander to his son, Harthad...
Accomplished... bah! What life awaits his son now... If they even get out of this alive...
Harthad keeps his stern gaze out on the field behind them as the horse and chariot races towards the Dead Marshes.
Sador can see his eyes are filled with fear - but Harthad does a good job hiding it.
Suddenly a familiar sound breaks the air and an arrow flies by and hits the chariot...
Sador turns his head back to the mounted knights.
He sees that a good few of them have bows ready...
Sador inspects the chariot...
Great!... no shield...
At the same time Harthad lets his first arrow fly... No hit...
At least they have the advantage when it comes to the ranged weapons.
As they are speeding in the direction away from their chasers the distance to hit is shorter then the distance the chasers have to fire to get a hit.
Sador aims and lets his arrow fly... No hit for him either...
He starts to count his arrows... only nine left.
Harthad does the same and shouts out:
"Seven here, Adar..."
Sador turns to his father and checks his quiver... twelve...
"We do not have enough even if we got a kill for every arrow we let fly..."
He peers out in front of them...
The horses will have no chance to follow them through the marshes...
He would steer clear of those marshes any day... but today they were their only chance...
During the terrible battle in SA 3434, where Mordor had been defeated by the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, the fighting spilled over from the plains of Dagorlad and into the marshes, leaving many dead.
More than half of the Elves of Lórien under the command of King Amdír were driven into the Dead Marshes.
After the battle many of the slain were buried outside of the marshy area but over time, the Marshes had grown and swallowed the graves.
From then on, mysterious faces appeared in the mires, giving rise to the name Dead Marshes.
Of course the marshes themselves had existed long before that ill-fated battle...
Now they were heading there...
All around there were evidence of the battle earlier... slain soldiers of Gondor, who had fled towards the marshes - trying to escape the wrath of the Wainraiders...
Ironic... Now they were the hunted... How quickly fate could turn against you...
The sound of arrows and a cry in pain from Hardor knocks Sador out of his thoughts.
The chariot suddenly steers off as Hardor looses the reins steering the horses.
Sador grabs the reins and get the horses back on course, as Harthad catches his grandfather before he falls out of the chariot.
Sador turns his head to check on his father as he hears him still fighting the pain.
An arrow is sticking out from his back.
Sador understands from the look in Harthad's eyes that it is a serious wound.
The mounted Gondorian soldiers have drifted off to the north of them to chase and hunt down the rest of the fleeing mounted Wainriders.
The mounted knights are gaining on them quickly.
Sador can see the horse dragging the chariot is getting exhausted...
"Just a little more...come on!!... just a little more!!"
Harthad breaks the arrow off, so that only some of it is still sticking out from his grandfathers backside... He can hear growls of pain from the aged man.
Hardor get halfway up on his feet and looks to his son and grandson.
"Methinks ye will not make the marshes with the extra weight of my body still on the chariot... the horse can barely take no more... My days are numbered anyway now..."
Before Sador and Harthad can answer the seasoned warrior, he grabs his bow and throws himself off the chariot.
"NOOOOOO!!!....."
Harthad cries out as he sees his grandfather tumble on the ground behind the chariot.
Harthad gets up and tries to grab the reins from Sador.
"Adar... turn the chariot around! ADAR!?!... TURN AROUND!!"
Sador breathes heavily and keeps his stern gaze on his son silently. Not budging...
"Please Adar... please..."
Harthad slowly lets go of the reins and sits down in the chariot in despair...
They both glance backwards, towards the wounded man in the field...
Hardor has gotten up on his feet... his body scratched, bloody and bruised by the fall and the tumbling on the ground - and from the arrow slightly sticking out of his back.
Hardor grabs his bow and quiver from the ground, and readies an arrow...
The mounted knights are raging forward, and have almost reached Hardor.
Just as Hardor aims to let his arrow fly, he is hit in the chest by an enemy arrow.
Hardor winces and his arrow flies way high of its intended target...
He fights to gain his balance... gasping for air at the same time...
On pure determination he reaches for another arrow... only one left..
The rest must have fallen out as he tumbled from the chariot...
He strings his arrow, and aims...
Just as he sees his arrow fly, two more enemy arrows reach him, and hits him in the chest...
Deep into the chest... One piercing his heart...
Sador sees his father fall to the ground... Harthad cries out again...
Hardor's arrow had not done any damage - except from a dent in one of the riders shield...
The mounted knights ride past the dead body, not even showing sign of slowing down.
Sador whips the horse even more...
Almost there... just a little more...
They are just on the edge of the marshes...
"Yes!...yes!... come on, little one... we are nearly there...."
At the very moment Sador utters the words, he hears a strange sound, and the chariot plunges to the ground and throws Sador and Harthad out flying through the air.
He can see the chariot disintegrate as he flies.
The horse is thrown to its side from the crumbling remains of the chariot and slams down with such force it leaves a great cloud of dust.
Sador sees the ground race towards him... He hits it hard and tumbles towards a few rocks, hitting his head...
He can feel his body ache, but cannot move...
Everything is blurry... he can see the contours of horses with riders inbound...
He cannot see Harthad...
Then everything goes black...
((To be continued very soon))
***
