“Eotharl! Brothers!” shouted Eodarl with a deep voice, “Mother?!”
There came no answer, only rough screams from Orcs and Wild men. Eodarl pushed with all his might but he could not withstand the foul hands and stinking ropes. A rank sac was pulled over his head and his hands were tied up. His axe was lost in the battlefield and his dagger stolen. He was pulled down harshly and dragged along the blood-stained ground. Eodarl released another cry but he was not heard by any of his brothers, nor his beloved mother. He did not know, that his brothers Eotharl and Eongor were still slaying the revolting creatures with the nearly dead body of their mother lying before their feet, and that his other brothers, Eongard and Eondryt, and his sister Eoryleth were either lost in the crowds of Orcs, or also taken by them.
Hours passed and Eodarl was forced to march alongside the foul Wild men, through the barren lands of Dunland. His legs were tired and his breath was heavy. He was sure that all his family was slain and all his hope has faded. His head was still covered with a stinking sac and a very light glitter of starlight shone through the tiny holes in the cloth.
(Will soon be finished)