Chapter Text
‘Katrine!’ Solmund shouted. I ran as fast as I could to the stables where my father had called. ‘Katrine, you must take this to the Elves-‘
‘No, father, I can’t leave you.’ I refused to take the letter he was handing me.
‘Rohan will not make it this far in time,’ he said, firmly. ‘And the village will be overrun by nightfall, it is over for us, we know where they are going next, south, and the only thing we can do now is warn Rivendell that an attack is coming for them.’
I felt my tears running hot down my face. ‘Come with me, father.’ I pleaded.
He held my face and looked down at me with his big brown eyes, pride and love in his expression. ‘Who will give you a head start if I go with you?’
‘No!’ I cried and held my father tight. ‘I don’t want to go.’
‘Be brave, my child,’ he whispered. ‘We have already lost this fight, but we can still do some good in this world. You can save Elvish lives and they will appreciate that. We all must sacrifice ourselves for the good of others.’
‘I don’t want you to die, father.’ I couldn’t go, I couldn’t leave my people to suffer while I escaped. We had already sent the women, children and the weak underground, it would take a week for the Orcs to find them as long as they kept quiet.
‘You must do this for me Katrine, you must do this for the lives that can still be saved.’ My father pushed me away from his embrace and shoved me into the smallest armour he could find. ‘My darling daughter. Your mother would be so proud of you.’ He handed me a small dagger that he always kept in his belt. ‘I hope you never have to use it, true courage is knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one. A very wise man told me that once. Now go.’
He lifted me onto the horse as I continued to sob, the sounds of the Orcs were getting louder and my father was ushering me out of the stables. He handed me a brown, leather satchel.
‘I love you Katrine, don’t look back. Ride as fast as you can, do not stop until you reach the city. Ask for Lord Elrond, he is their leader, he will help you if you ask, you have the letter and the courage to find him. I love you with all my heart. Now go!’
‘Father!’ Without warning my father slapped the horse on the rear and I began riding south, he put me on the fastest horse our village and sent me on my way.
I didn’t want to look back, but I needed to see my father one last time. I would regret the decision for the rest of my life, an Orc had picked him up and impaled him on a long, thin piece of wood that stuck out of the ground. I cried out so loud, I felt the blood pour up my neck.
Everything I had ever known was gone. The village of Barepoint was burning, my home was gone, my family was dead and the only hope for anyone was contained in a letter to Lord Elrond of Rivendell.
I felt a sharp pain in my leg and when I looked down I could see an arrow coming out of my thigh in the gap between the armour. I whipped my head back to see two orcs following me, they shot arrows at me and I urged my horse to run faster.
Lord Elrond had been out with a scouting party, he occasionally joined them when something of interest came up on the outskirts of his lands, they weren’t that far from Rivendell and had stopped to allow the horses to drink from the river.
His own horse and stopped all movement aside from his twitching ears, catching Elrond’s curiosity.
‘What is it, Bellor? Something caught your ears?’ Elrond stroked the black mane. Bellor, continued to stay still, his ears faced north and then his head. ‘What’s wrong?’ Elrond asked, almost hoping for a reply.
‘My lord?’ Lindir asked, observing the horse as well.
‘I think he hears something over there.’ Elrond replied, scanning the treeline where Bellor was focusing his attention. A few of the scouts laid hands on their weapons just in case, but Elrond kept his gaze on Bellor.
Without warning the horse bolted, Elrond went to follow, but stopped when it was clear he was never going to catch his horse on foot.
‘Well, whatever it was, Bellor is now gone.’ Elrond said, angrily.
‘You can take my horse back, my lord.’ One of the scouts said. Elrond nodded in thanks and they made their way back to Rivendell.
It was a few hours ride as they approached their home and Elrond felt a familiar welcoming wash over him as he looked on at the people going about their day.
‘Lord Elrond!’ Lindir called just as Elrond gracefully dismounted.
Pain radiated not just up my leg, but my back and my arms, I couldn’t look, didn’t dare see what damage had been done to me in the wave of arrows. But it was obvious that my horse wouldn’t survive having been caught by something poisonous, there was a good chance I had been shot with a poison arrow as well, but the effects were taking longer.
I limped into the forest, trying to remember where I had seen Kingsfoil, I needed to get to Rivendell to warn the Elves of the oncoming attack, but without looking behind me, I couldn’t tell how much time I had to mend myself.
My leg was burning, but finally I’d found the plant and did my best to apply it, but there were some wounds I couldn’t reach.
The arrows in my back were making it difficult to move, maybe two or three of them, one in my leg, another two in my arm and one that had scraped my neck. I wasn’t going to make it.
Someone was chasing me, likely a couple of Orcs had separated to come after me. I couldn’t stay where I was, I had no horse and Rivendell was still a day’s ride from the edge of the Trollshaws forest. It would take more than a day walking and more than that to limp, but I couldn’t give up.
I struggled to my feet and began limping as fast as I could south.
I had an idea; the Orcs would certainly find me faster if I ran through the forest, but if I climbed the trees and moved above ground, it would be harder for them to catch me.
I would go climbing often with the boys in the village when I was young and I learnt to hide from them in the same way. My leg made it difficult to climb, but eventually I was high enough that I could crawl through the same branches that I navigated when I was young.
I was beginning to worry that I wouldn’t make it in time, it had been two days and I still wasn’t out of the forest. I was constantly reapplying the Kingsfoil and constantly in a state of panic, exhaustion and agony.
I wondered if anyone had survived the attack on the surface, there were still people underground in the village. I didn’t stop, barely slept in the safety of the trees, but soon that caught up with me and I slipped on a sap-covered branch. I fell nearly twenty feet to the ground, it wasn’t as soft a landing as I’d hoped and darkness soon took over.
I could smell something foul, Orc blood. I opened my eyes and saw trees whizzing past me, hooves stamping beneath me, black hair was in my face. I was on a huge black horse, it was sprinting towards the edge of the treeline, out of Trollshaws. I squinted at the sun and deduced we were heading south.
Wherever the horse was taking me, it was in the right direction.
‘Lord Elrond,’ I croaked, my tongue sticking to the inside of my mouth from the lack of water. ‘I need to go to Rivendell.’ It took almost the last of my energy to say it, I wasn’t even sure why I told the horse where I needed to go, but if it had found me, then maybe it was an Elven horse. My father told me they were the most intelligent horses you could find.
We came to a stop and the horse lowered its body, close to the trickling sounds of water. The horse gulped buckets and I clambered from its back to do the same. My limbs were so much weaker than they’d ever been, so much so that drinking seemed to be an impossible task. I tried to pull off my armour, but the arrows that were still lodged in my back kept it in place. Pain flooded my whole body and I cried out for a moment before remembering I needed to stay quiet in case the Orcs were still following me.
‘Rivendell. Lord Elrond.’ I repeated to myself and craned my neck to drink from the river, the cool liquid was a welcome feeling running down my throat. I scooped up a little more and poured it onto my thigh. Again it was agony and I did my best to supress a cry, but it only made my tears run faster.
It was hopeless, I was never going to reach Rivendell. I got the satchel off from around my neck and attached it to the horse, if he was Elven, surely he would find a way back to Rivendell. The horse bowed and once again lowered it’s body for me to climb back on, but I didn’t see much chance of me making it to the city. I was too weak and too tired to try any longer.
The best I could hope for was that the Elves would make sure my body wasn’t eaten by Orcs. I didn’t even have the energy to cry at the thought that every man and able-bodied boy had suffered that exact fate in my village.
The horse waited patiently for me to get my feet into the stirrups before bolting again. I slumped over the saddle, wrapping the reigns around my hands and wrists to keep me in place and allowed my body to just relax, there was no need to expend energy I didn’t have. It was only then that I noticed my dagger was covered in Orc blood, was that me? Surely I couldn’t have done that?
My mind flitted back and forth, never really focussing on any memory or single thought, I tried so hard to think about what I needed to do, to do as my father had asked.
‘Rivendell. Lord Elrond.’ My lips moved and breath definitely came out, but I couldn’t tell if I’d actually made any sound beyond that.
The horse stopped sprinting and the slight momentum on my weak body was enough to send me forwards, falling off and onto the hard stone beneath me. My foot was still caught in one of the stirrups, but what did it matter?
I failed.