Of The Line Of Estelondo: Percival's Tale.

Chapter 14: Flight of the Bird

As they ran out of the portal, The Captain turned around in surprise, but his quick reactions were what had kept him alive as long as he had been. "After them!" He shrieked, his voice tight with shock.

The children kept running though, ignoring their adversaries who charged after them like a pack of undead lions. "Keep moving!" Métimafoa exclaimed, still holding the two girl's hands.

But Nolgaion failed to keep moving, letting go of Métimafoa's hand, and ran to her father's side, trying to pick him up, as The Bandit Captain grabbed hold of her arm, and tried to drag her away.  Métimafoa had turned immediately and sought to go after her, but his sister had his hand in an iron grip, and virtually dragged him toward the woodline. "Let me go to her!" he cried, his voice all but declaring his despair.

  Orónëminya dragged him along, not oblivious to Nolgaion's plight, but so intently focused on getting Métimafoa to safety that death could not have stopped her from achieving her goal.  He pulled against her, and just as he was slipping free, she threw her brother ahead of her, saying: "Go! She has chosen her fate, not ours! Do not die with her; live for her! That is how you can honour her memory!"

"She lives still, and you would have me abandon her; to being nothing but a memory? I refuse your request!" He spun to run back toward the Bird Lover, but Orónëminya tackled him into the woods, and quickly cast, "á lá lennaldë!"  Métimafoa felt a heavy force lay upon him, and he was suddenly unable to move toward Nolgaion. 

"How dare you!" He whispered, futility in his heart, as he knew that he could not break her spell with just his will. "You know--"

She interrupted him with a shushing sound and whispered "I dare to save your life. Now be silent, we have to hide."

. . .

They watched for hours as the men dug a pit, layering the bottom with a unit and a half long spikes. Two of the guards had ropes tied to Nolgaion, binding her hands and neck. She stood on the edge of the pit, looking disconnected from her surroundings. Her eyes were closed, and if not for the surrounding circumstance, Métimafoa would have thought her entirely at peace. The unconscious form of her father lay no more than five units away, tied to a post.

The only thing that prevented Métimafoa from running out to save her, was the spell  Orónëminya had cast on him, and the iron grip of his sister on his left wrist, which he had drawn as far out as she would let him. "Métimafoa, we have to go, now!" She urged emphatically but quietly, as not to be overheard by the bandits in the clearing.

But Métimafoa did not hear her, his eyes focused on Nolgaion, who stood on the hastily built wooden platform near the edge of the pit.  He turned to his sister and begged her to let him go. "We have to save her! She will die otherwise, and I would not have her meet such an end. Certainly not for our sake!"

Orónëminya shushed him and glanced around to ensure that he had not drawn the attention of the bandits. "You have grown in age, Métimafoa, but your wisdom remains naive. How do you expect the two of us, an enchantress, and a fencer, to take out five well-armed, more experienced criminals, who have a friend of ours as leverage? This is a fight we cannot win; it is time to cut our losses and retreat. We can avenge her loss later."

  Métimafoa went to reply; his voice tense with outrage, but he was cut off by another voice from the platform. he turned slowly, as Nolgaion's captor began to speak. "Children, come out, come out, wherever you are!" The human male scanned the wood line, looking for any sign of the children, but they made no verbal response. "Perhaps we can come to an arrangement. Your lives, for the life of the LeShay girl?"