Linger

XIII. Battle of the Hornburg

Rowan fought to keep her balance after knocking another Dunlending off into the gap filled with sharp pikes. She was tired, cold, drenched, hurting, and miserable. Her exhaustion had led her to being hurt—a nick here, an arrow whizzed by her face, leaving a shallow cut on her cheekbone, bruises from falling onto a body or receiving a punch. The greaves on her shins prevented an Uruk from hacking off her left foot. She wasn't sure how long they had been fighting. Minutes? Hours? At least the storm had stopped.

That seemed to be the only good thing going for them.

Wave after wave of Uruks and Dunlendings came over the parapets. The flow of the Enemy pouring through the breach in the Deeping Wall into the gorge never slackened—black bodies grew in number as golden figures depleted. Cries and yells rose in crescendo and the constant booming stopped, sounding to Rowan like a hole had been broken through the gate like in the movie. Looking out at the valley, the entire basin didn't writhe—more like half did—but not enough had been killed. Not enough.

"Aragorn, get your men out of there!" King Théoden's voice echoed to them.

The Ranger's voice lifted above the noise, telling everyone to pull back to the Hornburg. He yelled at her, Boromir, and Haldir to do the same.

They focused on encouraging the surviving elves on the Wall to run while protecting their backs as they fled into the narrow doorway leading onto the causeway winding around the Hornburg. Haldir told Rúmil to go before him. Rowan watched around Haldir for an Uruk that wounds him and another who kills the elf by slicing down his back.

"Go, Rowan!" Boromir yelled.

"Not yet!"

As Haldir killed an Uruk by driving his sword down into its back, a charging-Dunlending swung wildly, slicing his sword hand. Haldir grimaced at the pain, but he pulled back his sword, switched hands, and stabbed the man in his chest—he now wielded his sword in his left hand as he held the bleeding one to his chest. He turned, not sensing the Uruk-hai raising a scimitar to cut down his back.

Rowan shouted a warning as she jumped in between the elf and the Uruk to block the killing blow. Catching the downward stroke, she flung it back up, spun around him, and drove her sword up through his stomach. She yanked her blade out as the Uruk collapsed and looked at Haldir.

"You okay?" she asked.

He nodded. "Hannon le."

With what remained of the Deeping Wall evacuated, the three figures last standing fled for the open doorway.

Two. She had saved two that were supposed to die. Maybe Rowan could save King Théoden in the Return of the King...

As soon as they burst into the causeway, they took a sharp left to get out of the way of Rúmil and Elven archers waiting to fire into the doorway. Arrows whistled through the air and dying cries echoed out of the short tunnel. The elves used up their remaining arrows to clog up the tunnel with bodies.

Rúmil looked at her. "What is your direction?"

"Aragorn and Gimli help defend the gate as it's repaired. Éomer helps in the book. Legolas hauls them up to safety above the gate, so we will go there."

Running feet brought Rowan, Boromir, Haldir, and Rúmil to see the Ranger, Prince of Mirkwood, and some elves and Rohirrim coming toward them from the outer stairs. No squat figure was with them, nor the Third Marshal of the Riddermark.

"Where's Gimli?" she asked.

"We lost sight of him and Éomer," Aragorn answered.

Before hysteria took over, Rowan remembered they both sought refuge in the caves. "I remember now—they'll be okay." There was the chance that they wouldn't, but she had to hope for the better.