The Last One

Chapter 10

The sun had long since set by the time Ruive reached the forest. With a firm nudged in Dragul's side and a click of her tongue Dragul weaved in and out of the trees at a swift and steady pace. Both horse and rider were exhausted and in Ruive's case sporting injuries, she could still feel the harsh burn of the fire on her right shoulder. The burn itself was no severe, but it still burned like fire and the cloth that had been singed into the flesh was not helping to ease the pain. For every move that she made caused the fabric of the tunic to move and rub the burn more.

By now the moon was at its highest and the stars shone brightly lighting up her path home. Though the moon and stars were a comfort to her, she could not ignore the uneasiness that lingered in her heart. It wasn't until a soft breeze danced its way through the forest and around her that the foul stench reached her nose. 'Orcs.' Swiftly tugging back on Dragul's reins she drew him to a halt focusing her elf-like ears in on the sounds around her. Concentrating, she could hear the loud sound of heavy feet colliding rhythmically on the soft forest floor. Judging by the amount of footsteps she estimated at least seven orcs, if not more , nothing she couldn't handle even in her injured state. Drawing her bow from its place on her back and notching an arrow she scanned the surrounding trees thankful for her elf vision allowing her to see in the dark. A flash of movement to her left caught her keen eyes. Aiming her arrow in the direction the movement came from she pulled the string back firm, fetching of the arrow brushing her soft lips. She released the arrow into the trees, the sound of arrow piercing flesh and a chilling screech followed, as if the dying screech were a que, six other orcs leaped out of the hiding places drawing swords, spears, and other mangled weapons on Ruive. Like lightning, Ruive had shot down another two before exchanging her bow for her long sword and jumping off Dragul. The first of the three that remained charged forward swinging his spear violently, but was gutted moments later by a strategic blow. The last two were more cunning than the others and from what could be told by their sharp swords and stance were better trained. Instead of attacking one at a time, they circled Ruive backing her to a tree. Agreeing in her head that two swords against one was slightly unfair even against her, she drew a long dagger from her back expertly twirling it in her hand.

The two orcs slowly closed in on her, waiting for her to make them first move. But Ruive was patient. she waited for them to grow restless and make the first attack which would be sloppy. As predicted, both raised their swords high launching themselves at her, one swung high, the other swung at her middle. However centuries of training had prepared her for this, she used her dagger to block the attack coming from above and parried the attack at her torso with her swords spinning herself under the first orc's arm before stabbing him through the back with her sword. The orc fell onto its front in the dirt, sword still embedded in its back. The remaining orc had recover now and attempted to attack her again. Ruive parried the attack with her dagger them gripped the hilt of her sword spinning herself horizontally in the air kicking the orc in the chest and face, much like she had done in her fight against Legolas. The orc stumbled backwards from the strength of the blow creating an opening for Ruive to throw her dagger at the orc's neck. Stumbling back further with a dagger now buried in its neck, the orc fell to the ground coughing and choking profusely on black slick blood, before silencing forever eyes vacant of any signs of its pitiful life.

Exhaling deeply, Ruive surveyed her handy work, seven orcs lay dead either pierced by arrow or blade. She turned to her sword which was still stabbed through the orcs back, she gripped it with her right hand placing her foot on its back pulling her sword out. She inhaled sharply, hissing at the pained that sprout from her shoulder now the adrenaline had worn off. Turning her neck she assessed the wound as best she could. The skin around the burn was red and irritated, and the wound itself was a mixture of black and red from the tunic that had being burnt into the flesh. Thin streams of red blood slowly oozed from scabs that had been opened from recent events. She cringed at the sight, knowing there was little she could do before she reached Dagnir. She retrieved her dagger from the orcs neck sheathing it before striding over to Dragul who had faithfully stayed in his place during the whole ordeal. Using her right arm as little as possible, she swung up onto Dragul leaning down as best she could to his ear whispering in her mother's tongue. "Home calls us Dragul, ride hard." Neighing happily at the prospect of home Dragul reared up before sprinting off towards Dagnir leaving the bodies of the dead orcs behind them.