The Abduction of Éomer, King of Rohan

Chapter 12

An army of dwarves was hammering away inside my skull and my clothes clung to me damp and clammy. I groaned. Strong arms tightened around me. "Lothíriel?"

Slowly, the events of the morning came back: Corethir and his men, the fight. A stab of pain thrust through me. I struggled against the arms confining me. "No! Let me go!"

"Lothíriel, it's me!"

Blinking at the painfully bright sky above me, I tried to get my bearings. Soft sand lay under me and a man was kneeling by my side, bending over me. "Léona?"

"Yes."

He was all right! I tried to sit up, but the world spun round me. Léona slipped an arm under my back and steadied me. "Slowly! You've had a bad knock to the head."

Cradled against his chest, I took deep breaths and the dizziness receded. When I closed my eyes, I heard his steady heartbeat and felt his skin warm and firm against my cheek. A sob of relief rose in my throat. Léona was alive. Then the tears came.

He stroked my hair. "Hush, dear heart, it's over. I'll keep you safe. Now and always."

I nodded and clung harder. But the tears just would not stop. The thought that I might so easily have lost him was like a stab to the core of my being. Then the realization hit me that from now on I would have yet another man to worry about, another warrior in danger of sword, arrow and axe.

"Don't ever leave me," I sniffed.

"I promise," he whispered into my hair.

Not wanting to ever let go of him again, I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed. Léona winced.

That instantly cut through my teary mood. I straightened up. "Léona, are you hurt?"

I got my first proper look at him: sweaty and splattered with fine droplets of blood, a bruise forming along one side of his jaw and his shirt slashed all along the left arm, showing a nasty cut on the forearm. To say nothing of the small nicks and cuts all over him.

"Léona!" It came out as a squeak.

He patted my hand. "Don't worry, I've had worse."

"How can I not worry! Look at that arm!"

He glanced down at the blood soaked shirtsleeve and shrugged. "Took that at the beginning of the fight, but things improved once I managed to use one of them as a shield against the others."

"We have to get you to a healer," I protested and struggled to my feet. A mistake. The edges of my vision darkened and my temples throbbed with sudden sharp pain.

Léona caught me as I swayed. "Lothíriel, are you all right?"

"My head hurts," I groaned.

He peered into my eyes and gently probed the back of my head with his fingers. "That's a nasty lump you've got there, my sweet," he said. "I think it's you who needs to see a healer!" Carefully, he lowered me back onto the sand. "Rest a moment longer."

Sitting down helped with the dizziness, if not with the headache. For the first time since coming round, I took stock of my situation beyond the simple fact that Léona was alive. We were on the beach, just above the waterline. Cawelcwén wallowed in the shallow water in front of us, her bow drawn up on the sand. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw something lying further down the beach, a pool of red congealing around it. Chainmail glittered in the morning sun.

"Corethir?" I asked.

"Dead."

I tried to feel regret for the death of a human being. He had been some mother's child after all. Yet I felt nothing but relief that he would never again prey on another woman.