'Where now the horse and the rider?'
Prequel to 'Rain on the Mountain'.
Before the storm clouds of war gathered.
Before the growing shadow in the East took form.
Before the Riddermark knew the choking hold of a wizard's malice.
Before the illegitim...
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Chapter 14
"Drive them back! Make safe the village- Baldan! On your flank!"
The voice of the Third Marshal rang out clear over the sounds of battle, the squeal of orcs and fiery cries of her riders, the sounds of steel on steel and steel on flesh. The snow beneath the hooves of their mounts was churned to an icy quagmire – what little snow had not been trampled was stained black by the blood of their fallen foes.
Théadain had felt it in her gut, when they had come across the tracks in the snow the night before. Their patrol almost complete, her éored had began to strike out in the direction of Edoras, when one of her scouts had sighted the trail. As the flurries of still-falling flakes threatened to cover the traces, she had been tempted to heed the muttered words of her men: the tracks were left by orcs, but perhaps only two or three – they would have disappeared into the mountains long before they traced them, it wouldn't be worth the pursuit.
And yet, something had tugged at her, a deep discomfort that told her that they could not possibly be so lucky. She had been right.
She couldn't bear to think of what may have happened if she hadn't urged her company to ride through the night, following the clumsy tracks upon the frozen ground – for if they had not, they would never have caught the group of twenty three creatures here, within spitting distance of the settlement fences.
Jerking her sword from the neck of one that had tried to flee past her, Théadain grimaced at the wet, gargling sound that it made before crumpling to the ground at Folca's hooves. Her mount danced around it with ease, huffing great, hot breaths through his nostrils which formed clouds in the icy air as he awaited his rider's next command, eager to dive into the throes of the fight.
There was little fight left to indulge him with though, she noted as she looked up, wiping her blade on her saddlecloth as she watched Folhelm gallop after the last orc as it tried to escape through the snow. A deft swipe of his sword ensured that the creature got no further. The swelling of pride in her chest at her company's efficacy was somewhat soured though, as she realised just how close they had been to allowing an entire village to be wiped out.
"None reached the village?" She called to Baldan, glad the wind had stilled a little and the snowfall calmed, at least for now. Tugging off her helm, she could see a few of her men dismounting as they began to gather the corpses strewn in the snow.
"None." Her captain confirmed as he rode to her side, looking out over the small battlefield they had created. They had vastly outnumbered the orcs, so much so that she suspected some of the men hadn't even had the chance to raise their weapons, but still she was unsettled.
"That was too close." She breathed, shaking her head a little in disbelief at how lucky they had been.
"I have never known them to conceal their numbers by travelling in single file – I would not have thought they would have the wit." The redheaded man mused as he watched a few of their men examining their horses for signs of injury.
