Nerwen the Green and the Search for the Entwives #wattys2019

Chapter XLIII: A Friend from the Past

Chapter XLIII: A Friend From the Past

It was late in the night. The moon, at its last quarter, was almost setting. In this darkness, only faintly lighted by the last moon-rays, several shapes were moving stealthily. They were a dozen, not very tall, but very sturdy Men, soldiers clad in segmented armours of leather and metal; nine of them carried short halberds with hooked blades, the other three had powerful bows with four curves; their heads were covered with helmets decorated with horns resembling insects' antennae.

While on patrol, at dusk they had glimpsed a wisp of smoke rising on the eastern horizon; as they knew well this was an uninhabited area, which their people had recently seized, they had come to check the origin of the smoke. Having left their mounts at a safe distance, they went on on foot; despite their heavy equipping, they moved silently, in a precise order, approaching the small campsite staying warily downwind, so that the horses couldn't scent their smell and raise alarm.

The intruders had arrived at just a few paces away from the sleeping shapes, when Allakos glimpsed a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to look; seeing strangers, he cast an alarmed neigh that awakened immediately the other two horses, who began to whinny in turn. Calad, on Thalion's back, uttered a piercing shriek and took off without delay.

At the first neigh, Aryon woke up startled; he saw immediately the threatening shapes and grasped his sword, which lay at his side, unsheathing it with an infuriated yell that tore Nerwen out of sleep. The Aini looked around, confused, and recognised the danger; she grabbed her long Noldorin dagger, which by night she slid under her pillow, at the same time pushing away the blanket. She leaped up, back to back with Aryon, wielding her weapon against the unknown adversaries.

The assaulters did waste no time and hurled themselves at them. Three opponents, armed with halberds, attacked Aryon and he whirled his sword around, deflecting their blades. Nerwen instead resorted to her astonishing speed: she ducked, evading her adversary's cut, and slipped under his guard as he had his arms raised, stabbing him on the bared armpit. The enemy shouted and fell, but immediately another arrived. Nerwen turned to confront him and at that moment Thilgiloth arrived, ramming into him with her shoulder and throwing him off; Thalion, always ready to follow the Chargeress, finished the job trampling the soldier and knocking him out.

Seeing his companions attacking the strangers, Allakos, too, jumped into the melee, running over an assailant.

The attackers withdrew a little, confused by such a furious resistance.

"Easterlings!" Aryon yelled, "What are you doing here?! This is not your territory!"

"You're wrong," one of them, maybe the commander, contradicted him, "We took over this uninhabited lands years ago. No stranger is allowed within our boundaries: surrender or you'll be killed."

"We'll see!" Aryon roared, "Bring it on!"

The Easterlings weren't impressed at all: they were twelve, while their adversaries were only two. They would defeat them in no time.

Four flung themselves against the Avar prince, as other four watched their backs, keeping in check these so strangely aggressive horses. Nerwen, holding too a short weapon to attack by brute force, stayed behind Aryon.

The prince was fighting like a lion. His blade found a gap and wounded one of the Easterlings on one arm; the Easterling withdrew, but one of his comrades substituted him instantly. The point of a halberd caught Aryon on one leg, making him cry out in pain; but the injury didn't stop him, on the opposite, he fought even more fiercely.