Remains of the Banished | Aragorn || Lord of the Rings

XXXV

Aiyla and Eadrid sprinted forward, far before the rest. She raised her sword, and the once proud looks that held the orcs quickly changed to fear and desperation as thousands of hooves came very quickly for them.

Eadrid smashed into them, slaughtering left and right. Either by Aiyla's trampling hooves or Eadrid's sword, there was a line of death that lay behind them. 

The Rohirrim quickly made progress, slaying everything in their path. It was easy to see, from the fright of the enemy alone, that this would be victory for Rohan.

They pushed them to the river, away from the city, as they made more progress into their army. 

Eadrid met eyes with Eowyn next to her as she turned back, nodding after seeing she was still fighting with Merry in front of her.

Then, the battlefield seemed to go quiet. 

Eadrid turned to see another army heading towards them. It consisted of men and Mumakil, huge beasts with long, sharp tusks. Eadrid fell back to her father, who called them to reform the lines. "Sound the charge. Take them head-on... CHARGE!"

They once again charged, towards the army of Haradrim. The Mumakil swayed their tusks from side to side, ploughing through the horses that missed their chance to move out of the way. Aiyla wove in and out of their large legs, giving Eadrid chances to slash at their ankles. 

Eadrid led Aiyla to another Mumakil, and making sure no one else was under the it, raised her sword, dragging it along its underbelly. The sword, extremely sharp, cut deeply through its thick skin. As she came out from under it, it let out a cry, swayed, and fell to the ground. The men that led it from atop its back either fell to the ground with it, getting trampled by horses, or jumped to the ground with swords ready. 

Eadrid turned back to finish them off, and as she swept through them, she heard a nasty cry ring throughout the field. She looked up to see a massive winged creature approaching them, and on it sat a Nazgul. 

Not only a Nazgul, but the Witch King.

In her brief moment of distraction, one of the Haradrim raised his spear and knocked her clean off Aiyla's back. 

Eadrid landed hard on her back, the air knocked out of her lungs. 

The man stood over her, a disgusting grin on his face. Eadrid forced herself up and in a swift motion she slashed her sword across his stomach. 

Eadrid turned back to the Witch King, who flew very fast for a certain spot on the field. Eadrid strained her eyes, and suddenly she could see who it was aiming for.

"No!" She cried and broke into a sprint, as she saw the beast catch her father's horse in its mouth, Theoden falling hard to the ground. 

Eadrid, cover your face.

Eadrid did not know where the voice came from, and did not linger on it long, but listened to it. As she continued to run she snatched a strewn helmet from the ground and put it on, and sheathed her sword. 

Eadrid arrived just in time as the beast moved in on her father, stuck under his horse.

She stood between them, facing the creature. She picked up a sword that lay on the ground.

"I will kill you if you touch him." She spat.

"Do not come between the Nazgul and his prey." The Witch King's voice was scratchy and deep, completely inhuman. Eadrid shuddered as she heard it, but shook it off and tightened her grip on the sword. 

The beast, of course, was enormous. But because of its size, Eadrid had the upper hand, speed.

So she knew, that when it decided to lunge for her, she could step to the side and slice of its head.

And she did so.

The head fell thickly to the ground, spewing blood as the body swayed and followed after it.

The Witch King slid off its back and faced her, his mace in hand.

He emanated evil that made Eadrid's blood run cold. As he stepped to her, Eadrid picked up a wooden shield and held it before her.

He swung his deathly mace and Eadrid managed to avoid it several times, but finally he caught her shield, and it shattered into tiny pieces. 

Eadrid fell to the ground, and he stood over her. She saw nothing in his face but deep black, there were no eyes nor mouth to show emotion, but she swore she could see a sick smile as he lifted his mace from the ground.