Seekers of Truth RPG

[piosenniel]

Crystal Heart’s post

A young woman walked into the Inn; her hood concealed her face. It was the only form of protection because her weapon had been taken from her. She looked around the Inn in interest. It was much different then the other Inns she had been in, but it seemed quaint enough for her liking. She walked swiftly through the maze of chairs and tables to the front desk. She touched her pouch. There was enough coins for a nice meal, a couple of drinks, and a room for the night.

She sat down on a stool. She pulled the hood from her head slowly and shook her hair out from under it. Auburn hair pulled away and lay in soft curls as it always did. Her unusual mixture of brown and green eyes looked around the room. She didn't open her mouth to say a word. This place was so different then she had first realized.

She wasn't afraid or shy of this place. She just liked to be quiet for a while and take it all in. She learned more by just listening to the people around her. She also learned more about the place she was in by how the people acted, talked, and what they ate and drank. Someone had once told her that it was a type of gift of hers, but she had never believed it. It was only just a skill she had acquired over her years of travel.

She had left her home so many years ago that she couldn't remember where that home had been. She had lost several years of her memory. She wasn't sure how it had happened, but it had and she hadn't regained it back. She had a feeling that she didn't want to remember those memories ever again anyway so she wasn't worried about the fact.

She did remember her name, or at least what she thought her name was. She had been under so many aliases that she had started to forget what her own name was, but she remembered it right now. Her name was something wonderful, at least in her opinion. Crystal Lerena Sandrine Heart. A name that she had thought was regal and noble, even though she didn't come from noble or regal blood.

She decided to order a drink at first. She wasn't sure what they sold here.

"Excuse me, but what is a good drink to have around here?" Crystal asked the bartender. The bartender nodded and handed her an ale. Crystal looked up and thanked the Innkeeper. She took a small sip and gave a smile. It was rather good.

Her memory wandered, but there was still places where she still couldn't remember a thing. In her travelings around middle earth she had been in rather rough fight with a drunken man that had mistaken her as his wife. His fists had been wild and hard against the skull of her head. There was only portions of that she actually remembered. She did remember waking up in a place with a woman over her telling her what had happened to her. She couldn't remember many other things after that. Her memory was slowly coming back, but it was so painfully slow that she had stopped trying to actually remember. She wasn't even entirely sure that Crystal was her real name.

She thought back hard against the bearer, but nothing would budge in her mind. There was just a black portion that just sat there, unweilding against her mental pushes. She itched her neck and felt something she hadn't noticed before. She pulled the rough thing away from her and saw a necklace. It was long with a pendant on the end. She read it: SANDRINA SANDRINE Lightheart. Ah, that was her name. It had to be. She couldn't have found it any where else. She smiled. SANDRINA looked up and watched in interest as people sang. She had could not remember anything about songs. There was a barrier against the memories of her childhood. Like most of her memories they seemed to be locked behind doors that she did not carry keys for. She couldn't even remember exactly why she had come in the Inn. There had been a purpose she supposed. She knew she wanted a drink, but there had been something else. She couldn't remember.

The only thing she could remember was that terrible fall. She had been riding with people that she knew were familiar and that she had known at one time, but she couldn't put her finger on who they were. They had been in Gondor then or so she thought. She had toppled off and had hit her head against something hard. When she had awoken she remembered being in the dark with no money, no weapon, and no means of transport home. She remembered that she couldn't remember who she was or where she was from. She hadn't remembered where home was. She still wasn't sure.

She figured that had been at least a year ago. She couldn't recall time anymore. Everything seemed to blurr. Every once in a while she would remember a tidbit of something, but it only made her confused because she didn't know what it meant to her. All of her memories that she had still maintained were pieced together in a makeshift puzzle that really didn't fit together. There was such blackness all through her memory that she had no idea what things were real and what she had made up on her own.

She smiled softly to herself as she recalled what one of the people she had met in similar type Inn had decided to call her. Crystal, like her voice was his reasoning. She had carried it around without a last name, telling everyone that she was Crystal. She remembered someone saying that she had a kind heart and had decided to make that her last name. Other then that she had had no memory of her real name.

Until today. She had been sitting here thinking when she had found the necklace around her neck and remember that her name was Eowyn Lightheart. She had recalled that the heart part of her name had sounded familiar. She couldn't remember when she had had a normal bath last. She usually got very wet in her travels and her and her clothes had ended up clean. Now that she thought about it, she wondered if her accident had really been a year ago after all. Maybe it had only been about three weeks in actuality. Or had it been longer? A month maybe? She had no idea.

She frowned in frustration. There just didn't seem to be any hope for her to remember anything about herself and what she use to be. This was her now, whatever it was she had become. At least she had a real name to fall back on. Maybe if people called her that then she would start remembering more.

As their songs drifted to her ears she wished that they would unlock something in her, something that would make sense to her. She had was sick and tired of guessing about her past and making up theories about what she supposed she knew.

She sipped her ale and wondered if she would be a loner without a home, without a memory, without a purpose for the rest of her miserable life. She hadn't been happy wandering around like an invalid, wondering what and who she truly was. There wasn't a thing that she could do on her own to unlock her vital memories. She put her head in her hand and sighed deeply.

She sat upon that stool when something hit her. A whirlwind of memories that just came to her. There had been something in the air, a smell that she remembered. Memories of her childhood came back. Her mother's name, Eowyn, her father's smile. Her father, Henry. He had had no sons, just her. She was their heir.

And then she realized why the people had left her for dead after she had fallen. She remembered who they where. They were her father's brother's children, her cousins. They had been angry at the fact that everything of the Lightheart's would go to her when her father died. That she would be the heir of their grand family. She would be the one that made decisions and would own the property that they had been blessed with.

She suddenly remembered her home, every small detail of every room. She had lived right here in Rohan.

She looked around the Inn, looking for familiar faces even if she could not recall the names that went along with them. She hoped she could find someone that knew her.

[piosenniel]

Arien's post

“Thank you,” and with that he dropped three coins on the table. The bar keeper scooped them up and turned to the next customer. He lifted the mug and made his way to the table nearest the wall, it was empty; he couldn’t take talking to someone. He needed to collect his thoughts and see where he was in all this.

“Right,” Braedon muttered to himself, setting down his drink and sitting. He leant back for a minute, nursing his hand. He traced a finger over the bandage; he could see blood trying to seep through from the fresh cut. He would have to change the bandage soon. After this he would return to his room, and then set out to see his father.

He was not in Rohan for long this time, only a couple of day and he wanted to see how his father was coping. He knew he had gotten stubborn in his old age, and kept telling Braedon that there were better things to be done with a Rangers time, but Braedon knew he appreciated it. He also needed to visit a friend, rare he knew, but he hadn’t seen her for over 8 months.

Last time they were both here was when he was investigating the disappearance of a landowner’s daughter. It was said that she had been killed, but no trace of her was found. The search had been abandoned 5 months ago when her parents too disappeared, leaving their land and heading deeper into Rohan.

He drew his attention away from his and fumbled with his necklace, vaguely remembering his mother for a second. He shook his head, and reached out for the mug. A soft breeze dance over him as the door to the inn opened, he sipped from his mug and set it down once again. He looked up to the new entrant, but they were cloaked and he could not see their face.

He continued to watch as he saw that the new arrival was a woman, or was she a girl? He could not tell from here, her back was facing towards him. But she did have auburn hair, curly. A distinct memory sparked in his mind. But Braedon did not pick up on it.

"Excuse me, but what is a good drink to have around here?" she asked. Her soft voice was kind, the bar keeper answered and handed her a drink.

Braedon returned to his drink. When he had finished he headed back to his room. Gingerly he peeled the bandage away from his cut. Stupidity was the cause of his injury, he had gambled with a cheat and in a fight he was left with the wound, but his money too. This just proved why he was such a loner; most weren’t to be trusted. He bathed the cut in a basin filled with a mixture he had put together the previous day. It stung, but not too much.

He bandaged it quickly and headed back to the main bar and took his seat. He looked round for the girl, she had something about her... there she was! She was sitting at the same stool. But she seemed confused; she turned her head towards him. That girl. She looked remarkably like the one who had gone missing. Braedon sat up straight. But it couldn’t be could it? Surely not after this long! Braedon walked for the exit. He was probably mistaken, but he couldn’t help it, as much as he disliked talking to stranger, he was curious.

“Excuse me...” the girl turned startled. “May I ask your name, forgive me but you look like a girl I was searching for a time ago. I would dismiss it, but the resemblance in the description and your self is uncanny.”

The girl paused for a moment, still startled. "Crystal."

Braedon dissmissed it, and nodded to the girl. He walked to the exit and took another look at her. He stood for a moment and shook his head, a mistake it couldn't be her, she was dead was she not?

[piosenniel]

starkat’s post

Anora had been in Rohan visiting clients for her family’s trading business. She was due to begin her return journey home tomorrow. Deciding to make a stop overnight to rest her horse was an easy decision to make. She had just come downstairs and had taken a seat when a cloaked figure entered the inn.

Anora watched as the cloaked figure took a seat on a stool and pulled back her hood. The sight of the young woman’s auburn hair brought back some of Anora’s childhood memories. Anora could remember playing with a young girl with similar colour hair. I wonder what happened to Sandrina. Her body was never found.

Shaking off her reverie, Anora ordered food and took a seat. The young woman thought about her trip to Rohan. After taking care of business, she had spent time visiting family friends. She had sent word to her father that she was preparing to return home, when her horse had become lame. Worried that it might get worse if she continued, Anora had made the decision to stop.

She had been relieved to learn that her horse just needed rest. Anora’s attention was brought back to the present as she watched the auburn-haired woman at the counter. She saw a frown cross the young woman’s face. I hope she is alright. I cannot help shake the feeling that I have seen her before.

When Anora saw the young woman put her head on her hand and then sit upright, it struck a cord in her memory. That’s it! She looks like an older version of Sandrina! I wonder who she is. Anora watched as the young woman turned to look around the room.

[piosenniel]

Pippin Pondlily's post

Haven Storms had one foot on the ground and the other perched on the rod connecting the front two legs of the stool. She half sat on the chair and half leaned on the bar counter, tracing the lip of her mug with her index finger. Her grey eyes were fixed sullenly on the shelves of mugs and tumblers behind the counter as she lamented all the minor troubles of her life that were brought into sharp relief and exaggerated by the excessive amounts of alcohol she had consumed.

The inn was an old one inhabited mostly by people who came out of tendency because here had been the eye of revelry in days past. The walls were dark and mildew filled the cracks and seeped through the grain of the rank wood. The ceiling was so full of smoke that Haven, frankly, could not be sure that one was even there. But what put the wry smile on her face and lured her to sit at the bar and buy a drink here was the fact that the people made like this was a modern, lively inn. They sang, laughed and told stories: some true, some ridiculously false. To put a damper on the patrons' happy spirits would be condemnable, which was precisely why she did.

"How long have you been here?" asked a familiarly dramatic voice. Haven cringed and moved so she sat the whole way on the chair. She cupped the mug in her hands.

"Please, leave me alone, Bryian," she said, her voice cold as stone not out of contempt for him but of what he had come to say. He took the empty seat next to her but did not order a drink.

"Why didn't you come back to the stables?" he asked, sounding sincerely anxious.

Haven sighed, began to answer and stopped. She took a drink. She set the mug on the counter and turned to face him, searching for an appropriate answer. "It wasn't my damn fault that horse died," she said bluntly, "the idiot stable boy should have arranged to get his shoe replaced months ago. It just so happened that I was riding it over that ditch when the nail came loose, the shoe came off, the bloody horse tripped and fell into the gully and broke its neck. What was I supposed to have done about it?!" She was shouting but no one seemed to notice it blending in with the songs and talk.

He inhaled deeply. "Haven, you push far too hard and you're merciless." He held up a hand to prevent her intervention. "I understand your ideas, I know your beliefs, the … code," he accentuated the word 'code', "you live by. It follows a steady line of logic and has its advantages but there's a line, Haven, there's a limit to what we as humans and they as horses can do. If you overstep that line, someone is going to get hurt, like today. Is that something you're just willing to risk?"

She didn't answer. Her face was taught and she clenched her teeth, a passion of fury rising up like a wave inside her, threatening to swell and crash, to swarm over him with an anger he shouldn't have to see.

Bryian put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Haven, Rillis Wheed needs you, please, take care of yourself." He paused when she remained silent. "There is only one thing more tragic than the loss of a horse and that is the loss of a man, or, woman, in your case. What would they do without you?"

"To hell with Rillis Wheed and his bloody horses."

"You don't mean that, Haven."

"I do."

"Come on," Bryian said, standing. "I'll take you back to your house." Haven sat rigid.

"No thanks," she said. Her tranquility was noticeably forced. "I'm going to stay here a little longer." He looked at her openly concerned. "I'll be alright," she assured him. He smiled and leant forward, kissing her on the forehead. She stiffened.

After he left, Haven ordered her fifth mug of Dorwinion wine and moved to a table near the fire. She knew it wasn't her fault. She felt no guilt about the horse's death. That belonged entirely to the stable boy in charge of that row of stalls. She had been taking it around the course in sharp turns and sudden jumps forcing the horse to respond to the lightest touch and obey the smallest command. They were jumping the gully when the shoe came off. She was thrown to the side and her body was jolted against the hard dirt and stone. Haven had had just enough time to roll out of the way as the horse kicked its legs frantically, whinnied in excruciating pain and foamed thick at the mouth. She remembered she had come to her knees and watched in horror and disbelief.

Haven hung her head over the mug. She had been so close. That horse was brilliant, born with the gifts of the Mearas though it was not of their blood. He would have made the king proud and Haven was ready to present him in just under two weeks. It would have been the very turning point of her career. She had tasted the glory of having trained one of the king's horses only for it to be snatched away from her in a manner harsher than she thought she deserved. It certainly wasn't what that horse deserved. She didn't want to know what would happen to the stable boy. In her opinion, there was nothing severe enough for him.

Now what was she going to do? How could she continue to train horses and be hopeful when this had happened? It was too much to think about. She wanted to get away from it all if just for a little while…

As she was thinking, Haven hadn't exactly realized what she had been staring at but now she focused and saw that she was studying another patron in the inn. It was a young woman, a rather beautiful woman with thick, curly auburn hair sitting in a green cloak at the bar. Her expression changed as often as a river. First she was comfortable, secure and in control. Then she began to look confused and her expression grew distant, as though she was lost. Out of nowhere she'd smile or frown. Then suddenly she jolted as if hit by a sudden wind or a shudder of the earth. Her face began to shuffle emotions until suddenly they stopped and her eyes were wide and alert and her whole body was tense and aware. She began to look around the inn, apparently searching for someone.

Haven was completely mystified. What sort of loony was this?

[piosenniel]

Hama of the Riddermark's post

Hama sat alone at his table sipping his ale. He was in a pensive mood, and sat there almost motionless, sometimes the mug rested at his lips for more then a few minutes before he set it ack down, having only taken the smalled gulp from it. He saw the woman walk in, but she was well past him when she took off her hood. The hair looked familiar to Hama, but he shook his head. Sandrina was dead. And Dorian's daughter had run away. No, just a passing resemblance, and anyway, what was hair to go on? He had waited in Gondor for months, before receiving word that Sandrina had been killed. The blow had struck him deeply, because he was a good friend with all the Lighthearts. he had taken to moping around the taverns in Edoras of late, except when any opportunity to attack Dunlendings arose. He sighed and returned the tankard to his mouth, this time taking a larger gulp, some spilled onto his beard, and as he moved to wipe it off the woman turned around and caught his eyesight for the briefest of seconds before she turned around again. Hama was astounded. If it wasn't Sandrina, then someone had been blessed with a daughter that looked so much like her....

Again, Hama pushed the thoughts from his head. Sandrina was dead, and there was nothing going to change that. He gulped the last of his ale and called for another one. reclining in his chair as the barkeep bustled over to refill his tankard. He didn't let his eyes wander from Sandrina, something told him that she would vanish if he did. His ale came, and this time he drained it in a single movement, letting the amber liquid flow down his throat. He got up and replaced his shield, spear and bow on his back, attaching the quivver to the leather strap on his shield. Slowly he walked over to the woman at the bar and she looked around again. This time Hama caught a good look at her face. She clearly didn't recognise him as he leaned on the bar next to her. He took a good long look at her face, but when she turned around he tried to make it look like he was armiring the pendant around her neck...the pendant! Hama now did focus his attention on the pendant. It was...it was Sandrina's pendant!

Hama's heart skipped a beat quietly as he tried to form the sentence he wanted to say. Words raced through his mind at an amazing pace, and he discared them at an equally speedy rate. Sandrina turned away to look around the room again. Hama chose this moment to lean forward and whisper in her ear, "Nine months is an awfully long time to go missing, Sandrina Lightheart"...

[piosenniel]

Himaran's post



It was dark. Rain poured down around him, water splashed against his chest. He scanned the flooded area once more, looking for a trace, the slightest sign that she had been there. And then he saw her, twenty yards away, struggling against the current. He dove in, trying to reach her... but then the wave came, and the woman was gone.

Raen awoke with a start. He lay still for a moment, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room. There was no flooded forest, no woman, just a comfortable room inside a Rohanian tavern. The recurring nightmare had haunted him for several days, ever since he the stopped searching the wilderness a week before. The general search effort had ended months ago, but the ranger was hardly satisfied by the results. It was as though he was being punished for giving up, and Raen would have speculated further upon that theory; if common sense but had a smaller presence within his mind. Sitting up, he pushed with thick sheets aside and dressed slowly. After sleeping in the forest for so long, even the smallest figment of civilized life was a luxory. The man yawned, trying to feel comfortable; for in truth he was a stranger to these civilized surroundings. Snatching up a long, slender knife from the table (out of pure habit), Raen locked the room and headed downstairs.

Taking a seat at the bar, the ranger ordered a light breakfast and a hot drink. Even after several days at the establishment, it all seemed surreal. Nothing came naturely; Raen stared at the utensils before him for several moments before attacking the sliced ham with a vengence. He felt silly to have forgotten such simple behaviors, but knew it would all come back eventually. After all, it had been a while. The man watched as commoners and soldiers came and went, chatting and dining and arguing. Their lives were so simple; waking, working, and eventually passing from the world. Can I become a part of this calm, routine life? It was a question Raen had been asking himself ever since returning from his unsuccessful hunt.

Then a single man caught his attention. It was a ranger, (Raen was certain of that), but he seemed vaguely familier. There had been several of Raen's bloodline on the hunt for Sandrina; perhaps this was one of them. But that had been over five months back, surely they had not stayed in Rohan. Most went back to Eriador or Gondor, working for King Aragorn. He did look familier, though, and Raen started towards him; determined to find at least one of the answers that constantedly bothered him. The man immediately stopped, however, when the ranger began speaking with young woman who clearly resembled the one he had so desperately sought to find...

[piosenniel]

Firefoot’s post

Harold wandered through one of the two aisles of a small store in the village near his home. Usually he would have sent one of his sons or workers to get supplies, but today he had decided to go himself and get a break from his business. His business. It still gave him pleasure to think how he had finally outsmarted his brother and gotten the Lightheart inheritance.

Other than Harold, there were only two other people in this small building. A man, and the storekeeper who he was talking to. Harold realized that they probably didn’t know he was there when he heard what they were saying.

“Do you remember Sandrina? You know, the daughter of Henry Lightheart?” the one man was saying. Harold stiffened at the names of his dead niece and brother. He wondered what news there could possibly be concerning her. Unless... “I heard she’s alive,” said the man. Harold could feel the rage rising up in him, and he stalked out of the store without buying anything or waiting to hear any more. He mounted his horse and heeled him into a gallop, heedless of anything but his own angry thoughts. Those sons of mine will be hearing it from me. They said she was dead! And now... Harold realized that he had to do something. It wasn’t the girl he was afraid of - far from it - it was her father. Henry would come after him to kill him; Harold had little doubt of that. I would be a fool to stay here. However, his pride warred with the thought of leaving. Only cowards flee, and I am certainly no coward.

Harold’s sense and his pride battled within him the entire way back to his property. The bay horse was lathered with sweat from the long gallop, but Harold had finally decided that, pride or no pride, he would rather be a live coward than a dead fool. Harold handed his horse off to a groom and saw his son Arthur crossing the yard.

“Get Samuel and come to my study,” said Harold thickly, not bothering to hide his anger. “But first spread word to my men that they are to meet and wait for me behind the house as soon as possible.” Harold knew that his son would know which men he meant; they were the select few that he had informed of their plans of Sandrina. He had not told them all at once, for then they might have told Henry. Rather, he had fed them the information bit by bit so that by the time they knew the whole plan, not only was it too late to save Sandrina, but it was also too late for them, because if they had gone to Henry they would have been every bit as guilty as Harold and his sons. Arthur hurried to do as Harold had said, and Harold made his way to the study to wait for them, every minute causing him to be more and more upset.

When his sons finally made their way to his study, Harold exploded. “Sandrina is alive. How hard could it have been to kill a weak, foolish girl? And yet you two seem incapable of even that task! Do you realize what this will cost us? Your error is forcing us to flee the property, because if we stay, Henry will come and kill us. That girl that you could have killed - should have been killed - is alive, and when she makes her way back to Henry he will come after us. No more Lightheart business for us! We won’t even be working here anymore! Instead we are forced to flee like cowards. Now, go and join my men behind the house. If you have something to say to me, you can say it there. I will be there shortly.” Harold was so mad that he was quivering slightly. He sat for a moment to calm down a bit and collect his thoughts. Then he got up and followed his sons outside.

Samuel and Arthur stood a little apart from the rest. Harold ran his cold blue eyes over everyone, silently making sure everyone was there, each one shifting uneasily when his gaze rested on him. When he was satisfied, he began to speak, his voice quieter than it had been for his boys, but holding no less intensity or anger. “In case you have not heard, Sandrina is alive.” This news brought murmurs from the group. “We can no longer stay here, or else Henry will come back, and do not expect him to have any mercy on any of you! We must leave, but before we go we are going to carry off everything that we can possibly take from this estate.” Harold wasn’t sure where that had come from, but he rather liked the idea. “The other thing that needs to happen is someone needs to get rid of Sandrina once and for all. Someone more capable than my sons seemingly are,” said Harold with a pointed glare at Arthur and Samuel. “One or two of you should suffice. Now, does anyone have any ideas, thoughts, or opinions?”

[piosenniel]

The Perky Ent's post

Arthur began the day as he normally did after his father owned the Lightheart Estate. He smoked a pipe on a hillside. With the money his father had given him, plus the extra money Arthur had acquired from selling the crystal from his sword, he was a rich man. Rich enough to get Old Toby shipped in every month. Thanks to King Éomer Éadig’s friendship with hobbits of the Shire, he learned of the many fabulous pipe-weeds and began importing them. Arthur, being a wealthy man, could import it from Edoras to the Lightheart Estate. For this morning, the Toby was particularly good.

“Ah! I’ve been missing out on the good life all these years! This is truly heaven!” Arthur said, putting the pipe down to watch the view. Under the hill, he saw two young boys fighting. “This should be interesting!” Arthur said, as he laughed down the hill.

Coming down the hill, he saw two boys fighting over a coin. “It’s mine!” one said. “No, it’s mine! I won it!” the other said. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s so funny?” the first boy said, who was slightly large than the other. “What’s funny is that your fighting over something you don’t even have!” Arthur said, flexing his muscles. “It’s none of yours! It’s mine!” Arthur said, snatching the coin from the boys.

“Hey! Give that back!” “It’s ours!” the boys said, but Arthur was already halfway up the hill. “Survival of the fittest!’ Arthur shouted down at them, flipping the coin with his thumbs, and putting his pipe away. “Time to put this one with the rest of em!” Arthur said, heading for his house.

On the way, he had to cross his father’s house. He couldn’t really call it a house. It was more of a small mansion. Being the sole owner of the land had been very good to him. While crossing the yard, he saw Harold rush over on his horse, which seems as if it was going to collapse. “Get Samuel and come to my study,” said Harold thickly, not bothering to hide his anger. “But first spread word to my men that they are to meet and wait for me behind the house as soon as possible.” Arthur did not hesitate.

Arthur ran to the stables, which were nearby, and grabbed a horse. Riding down the grass, Arthur rode several miles until he reached a very small tavern run by friends of the Lighthearts. Inside the tavern, Arthur walked past the entrance and the main room, to a small room in the back of the building. In the room, there were twelve men gambling, all shady characters. “My father has requested an early meeting!” Get your horses and meet him behind his house. Something bad has happened.” Instantly, the men gathered their money, their cards, and their loaded dice, and rode out to Harold’s house.

“Now where are you, brother?” Arthur said, riding to Samuel’s house. Avoiding being polite by knocking on the door, Arthur kicked the door open. Inside, he saw Samuel resting. “Get up brother!” Arthur said, hitting Samuel very hard on the shoulder. “Father brings tidings of bad news!” Immediately, they both got their horses and set back for Harold’s house.

When Arthur and Samuel finally made their way to Harold’s study, Harold exploded. “Sandrina is alive. How hard could it have been to kill a weak, foolish girl? And yet you two seem incapable of even that task! Do you realize what this will cost us? Your error is forcing us to flee the property, because if we stay, Henry will come and kill us. That girl that you could have killed - should have been killed - is alive, and when she makes her way back to Henry he will come after us. No more Lightheart business for us! We won’t even be working here anymore! Instead we are forced to flee like cowards. Now, go and join my men behind the house. If you have something to say to me, you can say it there. I will be there shortly.” Harold was so mad that he was quivering slightly. He sat for a moment to calm down a bit and collect his thoughts. Then he got up and followed his sons outside.

Samuel and Arthur stood a little apart from the rest. Harold ran his cold blue eyes over everyone; silently making sure everyone was there, each one shifting uneasily when his gaze rested on him. When he was satisfied, he began to speak, his voice quieter than it had been for his boys, but holding no less intensity or anger. “In case you have not heard, Sandrina is alive.” This news brought murmurs from the group. “We can no longer stay here, or else Henry will come back, and do not expect him to have any mercy on any of you! We must leave, but before we go we are going to carry off everything that we can possibly take from this estate.” “The other thing that needs to happen is someone needs to get rid of Sandrina once and for all. Someone more capable than my sons seemingly are,” said Harold with a pointed glare at Arthur and Samuel. “One or two of you should suffice. Now, does anyone have any ideas, thoughts, or opinions?”

Arthur thought for a moment, and then said, “The girl did slip through our grasps, but it won’t happen again. We know what we need to do. I beat her, instead of stabbing her. I gave her that, as my cousin. A favor, which I will not give again! We’ll ambush her, and stab her. She won’t get away.” Arthur thought very proudly of the statement, until Harold interjected, “You think she’ll just be wandering alone. She’s probably having a guard with her! There’s probably going to be five people with her, helping her get home! Not to mention Henry! Think before you open your mouth!”


Arthur pounded his fist in his hand, and then said, “What about mercenaries? If they do come for us, why not prepare a trap? What if we hire mercenaries to fight them?”

[piosenniel]

Morsul the Dark's post

First Post:

Sam looked at his brother "Really? Mercenaries to fight mercenaries, they don't fight to the death, and surely we would be more suspicious. Simply call it a mistake should it come to it. Even the finest undertaker can not tell if one is dead sometimes." Sam looked at his brother. His brother had a glint in his eye as if he was in deep thought. Sam pulled out his pipe and filled it with longbottom, the finest imported weed in the land. It had always been his custom to do so when plotting.

Finally Sam looked up, "Perhaps Mercenaries aren't a bad idea. However we need a plan that will clear us of suspicion. Let us blame it on greedy peasants, commoners looking for a quick penny-cent of gold." He took his last puff then put out his pipe. He expertly cleaned it and placed it upon the table. He took his knife and began to cut the pig flesh on the plate in front of him. As he did he stopped he could only think of what he had done. 'No' He boldly thought himself 'It was our inheritance she had no right to it.' He looked up at his brother and waited for him to to tell his plan, his brother was, after all, the master of the plan.

[starkat]

Anora reeled in her seat when she heard the man address the woman at the bar. “Nine months is an awfully long time to go missing, Sandrina Lightheart"...

It can’t be! All the reports said she was dead! But she looks so much like Sandrina… Anora’s thoughts trailed off as she made up her mind. Getting to her feet, she walked over to the bar and took a closer look at the woman. When she saw the pendent around the woman’s neck, Anora knew.

She came up beside the man. “Excuse me. I heard you call her Sandrina Lightheart?” When the man nodded, Anora turned to the woman. “I have been watching you since you came in.” Her voice broke and for a moment her emotions got the best of her. She brushed some loose strands of hair out of her face. “You are Sandrina aren’t you? The pendent you are wearing, I recognize it.”

Anora watched the woman’s face for a moment. “I am Anora. Do you remember me?” Hope built as she waited for a reply.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina looked up at the man and woman that stood before her. They knew her name.

"You know me? I've been missing nine months? Oh, my head hurts so." She asked, a smile forming upon her soft lips at the thought of being recognized, of finally knowing that she was in the correct spot. Every where she had travelled no one recognized her. Except here. And they knew her name! Yet, she couldn't remember these people. She couldn't remember being in this Inn ever. She couldn't recall why their voices, or at least the woman's, seemed so familiar.

She watched as they nodded, looks of confusion on both of their faces.

"I was riding to somewhere, a place of trade I think. I can not remember. My cousins were with me. The horse got scared. I fell. That's all I remember. I had nasty brusies all over me and I could barely walk. My horse was dead beside me. Who are two? I have no idea what is going on anymore."

Sandrina put her head into her hands, hoping that this headache that had came with all her thinking about trying to remember would go away. Every second made it harder for her think and she just wanted it all to stop. She wanted to be home. Home. She jolted upward. She had a home. She had a family. Where these two people her family? As much as she wanted to believe they were, something in her heart told her that they weren't. She swallowed hard and tried to keep the smallest sliver of the memory of home inside her mind, but it slipped back behind the dark barrier that concealed almost everything from her.

"I can't remember anything. All of memories are gone. Except for a few. I just found out my own name a couple of minutes ago," Sandrina whispered in dispair, tears slipping from her eyes and down her face like sorrow filled rivers.

[Firefoot]

Harold had gotten his emotions under control, at least to the point where his face was cold, hard, and expressionless. The undercurrents of the room were tense, though, tense and uneasy. He was still furious, but he had learned through experience that the first step to getting an advantage over someone was to not let them know your feelings and motives.

Harold surveyed his sons. The option of mercenaries they had brought up was an interesting one, if not entirely sound. Mercenaries would fight for money, but a larger sum would just as easily turn them to the other side. They would need someone to keep them on task, someone like his men. He nodded very slightly to himself. That would work well.

“Mercenaries,” he said gruffly. “They might work for part of the plan. They won’t do it on their own. You there.” He swung his head to the six men standing to the other side. They had remained silent before, clearly not wanting to be on the wrong side of his anger. “You will stay at this house and set a trap for Sandrina when she comes, and she will come with others, mark my words. I’ll hire out some mercenaries, and you will be in charge of them. Make sure they hold up their end of the bargain.” Harold didn’t like putting that kind of trust in anyone, but sometimes trust had to be given. He turned back to Arthur and Samuel. “We three are leaving, by tomorrow at the latest. I have no idea when Sandrina will show up here, but I want to be long gone by then.” He noticed that Samuel looked to Arthur before showing his approval. Samuel had always been too soft for Harold’s taste, as much as he had tried to harden him. Harold knew he preferred the nickname Sam, and to Harold this was another sign of his weakness, and insisted on calling him by his given name. Arthur was more to his liking, but he had still failed in what leadership Harold had given him.

Harold supposed that his sons dared not dispute his plan, and if they did Harold would not let them hear the end of it. He ran his cold blue eyes over Samuel and Arthur, daring them to disagree with him.

[Arien]

“Nine months is an awfully long time to go missing, Sandrina Lightheart"...

Braedon stopped, his hand on the door. Sandrina... Lightheart?... He turned; the man had addressed the woman. Crystal. Or was it Sandrina? He moved to the bar, listening to the conversation between the two. Then another woman approached.

She too addressed her as Sandrina. Two people? Surely they couldn’t have got it wrong! This had to be the one that they had searched for, and given up on. He shook his head, how could they have thought her to be dead?

Braedon waited, and listened to Sandrina as she talked to the two. “I can't remember anything. All of memories are gone. Except for a few. I just found out my own name a couple of minutes ago” She spoke softly, as tears filled her eyes. So she could not remember, this would explain her behaviour; this would perhaps explain why none could find her.

He turned around and leant on the bar, Sandrina looked a little too overwhelmed with everything at the moment. He eyes searched the Inn, could it be possible that someone else here recognised the girl? It did not take him long to see the Ranger at the other end of the bar, his eyes were intent upon the woman. He looked somewhat familiar...

...Yes that was it, he was also on the search for this woman. Braedon made his way towards him.

“Its her...” the Ranger whispered as Braedon approached.

“I believe it is. It is the name she remembers and those two beside her seem to know her.”

“Well this was unexpected.” He replied tearing his eyes off her, turning to face Braedon, “Raen.”

“Raen, yes now I remember. I am Braedon.”

“Of course, what may I ask are you doing in these parts? I am sure that most returned to Gondor and Eriador when the search was ended.”

“If what you ask is if I knew she would be here. I did not. It is just by chance that I should see her. I was in Rohan on quite a different errand, but I believe that my plans may have to be changed for now.”

“I agree. But her parents, no one know where they are. They moved deeper into Rohan when we abandoned the search.” Raen looked back to Sandrina, and took a sip from his mug.

“We must at least approach her. Let her know what she needs to.” Raen nodded, he rose and the two headed over to the three.

[The Perky Ent]

"Pack?" Arthur shouted at Harold. "How far will we tread from the estate?" he said, as he collected things from Harold's house for him to pack later. "We leaving this place all together! At least, until that wretched girl is killed. You heard the plan. We leave our men here, we'll get some mercinaries, leave them here. Our lives or at stake! Better leave the fighting to them!" Harold began going through a pile of cloths on the floor, and putting them on a table. "I know! I know! It's just...these men have as much to fear as we do. They aren't exactly Sandrina's best friends! What if they run too! Sandrina will bring her father and reclaim her land. We'll loose everything! And as for the mercinaries, they're getting harder to find every day! Without orcs, their need has decreased. There's so many risks!"

Harold was silent. Arthur knew that rage was building up. "You're right! Of course, you're right! The plan won't work. We'll just draw our swords and meet them when they come. Sure, we'll be outnumbered three to one, but that doesn't matter! Right? It's better just to stay here!" Harold said in a sarcastic, yet fatherly tone.

"Really?" Arthur said inquisitivly. "No! Idiot child! Have I taught you nothing? What is in that thick skull of yours? Because it obviously isn't brains! I've had it up to hear with you! I'm not going to wait here to die. We have little choice, but I'd rather be a living coward than a brave corpse!" Arthur blushed, nodded his head slowly, and left the room. Getting his horse, Arthur road with his brother through the estate.

"Do you think the plan will work, brother?" Samuel said to Arthur as they galloped across a vast plain of short grass. "Honestly? I don't trust father's friends. They're about as brave as he is. While we're gone, they could loot the whole estate and run. No doubt they'll run to Gondor. They'll be safe there. King Elessar isn't big on death. I don't really like him very much, or any ruler for that matter. As far as I'm concerned, they should keep their fat noses out of other peoples business! The less government, the easier it is!" "Well, King Eomer is good for one thing" Sam said. "And what's that?" Arthur asked his brother calmly. "Pipeweed"

After a long ride, they reached the old well. It had marked the divider between Arthur and Samuel's land since their father re-established the Lightheart estate. "Well, I'll be seeing you, brother" Samuel said to Arthur, riding off into the horizon. "Well," Arthur said, taking a deep breath, "Time to pack!"

[Himaran]

The two rangers moved through the inn slowly, not wanting to rush up to Sandrina while she was clearly upset. Raen watched carefully as she wiped her eyes and began speaking to the man and woman that obviously were past friends. Any doubt he had previously harbored was gone; it was her, and after all those months in the wildnerness he was stunned. Where had she been? The ranger had scoured every inch of the surrounding forests but had found no trace of the supposedly "dead lady." And here she was, alive and apparently unharmed... physically, at least.

Sandrina turned, seeing them approach. "Excuse me, Miss," said Raen, trying to act calm. "My companion and believe we have seen you before. Perhaps you could shed some light on our suspicion."

"Perhaps, your name is not Chrystal," added Braedon; who had spoken to her before. The woman looked at them, then back at the others, as if realizing that they really did recognize her.

"No. Its Sandrina." She paused. "At at least I think it is."

"Who are you two," said the man beside her, although not in an unfriendly voice.

"I am Raen. This is Braedon. We were among those who searched for Sandrina, although the search ended half a year ago. It seems now, however, that it was not entirely unsuccesful."

The man's rigid features softened. "Hama, a friend of the Lighthearts. Thank you both for looking. But it seems that Sandrina has rendered it all unnecessary." The four turned to her, waiting anxiously for conformation that their soaring hopes were well-founded.

[Morsul the Dark]

Sam went off towards his house, "I do not plan to pack," he thought to himself. "If they plan to run let them. I will not go just to please father. Father can go to the ends of the world he will still go to Morgoth's halls in the end, as I and my brother. Perhaps if I give up this way of llife now I will be spared." but then the thought of the money came to him. "So much money I could buy a new horse a new house and as much pipeweed as could be grown in a year."

Sam dismounted near a tree and sat down he began to smoke. His mind cleared and he concentrated. Would he flee or stay? Either way there was a chance of death. One slow and lonely, running away gave that. Or staying and fight, death by sword. Or the last option that just occured to him, If he stayed and surrendered perhaps he would be spared. But then he would have to give up his brother, that he did not want. It was a difficult decision.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina watched the men and listened to their conversations. Even though the man, called Hama, claimed to be a family friend she did not recognize him.

"Do any of you know my parents or where I lived before, before the fall. Before everything. The only suspects in this case are my cousins who left me for dead. I'm sorry I can not offer more. An old healer claimed I have permanet memory loss. I fear it is so. Please tell me everything you know about me. It may be the key to unlocking my memories." Sandrina begged the men and the lady that stood around her.

Her eyes looked up at Hama. His face seemed so familiar. That strength. She knew that she had seen it many times before, but at the same time it looked so much like every other stranger's face. She had learned in, how long had they said she was gone, the nine months of her travels that looks could be deceiving but she didn't have much of a choice. She had to trust these people. They all seemed to know who she was and had been searching for her. They could help her. She hoped they could. Life was bleak without memories or anyone else to travel with let alone be around. Everyone she had met believed that she was some sort of lunatic because she didn't know her own name and was filled with such confusion most of the time. She only hoped that these people would understand.

"I'll give you all money rewards if you help me. Please."

[starkat]

Anora had stood their listening as the Rangers came up to them. Her emotions were running wild as she listened to Sandrina’s tale. Saddness over Sandrina’s lost memories washed over her. I hope we can help her. I wish I knew where her parents are.

When her childhood friend begged for their help and offered money, Anora sat down next to her. “I won’t take your money. I would be glad to help.” Pulling a worn envelope out of her pocket she handed it over to Sandrina.

“Because of my family's business, we didn't get to see each other often. In fact the last time was a few years ago. To keep in touch, we wrote letters back and forth all the time. This envelope contains the last letter I ever received from you.” Anora watched as Sandrina fingered the envelope. Hama leaned over to look at the address.

After a moment Anora continued. “I remember the letter you sent me just after you got your necklace. You drew a picture of it so I could know what it looked like.” That brought a small smile to Sandrina’s face.

“When you disappeared I never truly believed that you were dead. Since all that had been found was your sword, I always held out hope.” Anora’s voice trembled. “You were on your way to Gondor when you disappeared. I was to meet you there.”

Anora stopped there. Everyone was watching her. Momentarily shy, Anora looked to the man who had introduced himself as Hama.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina looked at the piece of parchment that Anora was holding out in front of her. There on the paper just as she had said, there was a sketch of the necklace that hung around her neck. The words that she had written were scribbled with a small slant as if the writer was excited.

A memory stirred. A memory of sitting at the oak desk and writing furiously, happily to her friend about the amazing gift her parents had made for her before the trip.

Sandrina looked up and smiled, a bright and cheerful smile that was filled with hope.

"I remember that. I remember doing that!" Sandrina exclaimed, her heart racing, "That was before, before my cousins..."

Sandrina stopped, her eyes gazed far away in thought. The memories of the fall made her head throb in pain. She rubbed her right temple, trying to ease it.

"I was beaten," Sandrina whispered as realizations of what truly happened came to her mind. She could only see a fragment of her memories in her minds eye, but she could see it all the same. Their clubs came swiftly down upon her in anger. Yes, she had been beaten and left for dead.

She looked up at the small group that formed. She looked each of them in the eyes, hoping to find something of realization in them as well. She saw shock within them.

"Where are they?" Sandrina asked, her small, delicate hands clenching in anger.

[Morsul the Dark]

Sam looked up as a light rain began to fall. It was as if the rain washed away the clouds in his mind. He would stay in hopes of forgiveness. It did not matter how much money the inheritance was worth he would see her every time he spent it. It wasn't worth it, whether by the slow decay of time or through guilt he would go insane.

Sam walked towards the stable guiding his horse. as he entered a mouse scurried past his feet, he pursued it for a moment then let it go. "No, I will not fall prey to primal instincts. I am a man and I have sinned, I must face what comes." He said aloud. He began to take off his sword then thought better of it. "What if they don't forgive me?" He quietly whispered. "I will be forced to fight." With that he tied his horse then went off towards the estate.

[Firefoot]

Harold watched Arthur gallop off through a window. Samuel had slipped off with him, and his other men had beat a hasty retreat as soon as the meeting was over. If he had been in control of his emotions only a little while ago, Arthur’s outburst had put him over the top again. He looked around for something to vent his anger on, and seeing nothing, unsheathed his belt knife. He hurled it as hard as he could at the wooden door across the room, and smiled grimly when it went so that only a few inches of the blade were left open. If he could admit it to himself, he was actually quite pleased that Arthur had been strong enough to stand up to him; it made him feel that he hadn’t completely failed in rasing his boys. He left the knife buried in the door for now, and headed outside to the stables.

It was only a short walk, and once there he wasted no time in finding what he needed. He was relieved to find that the bay horse he had ridden so hard from town was recovering. It would be sound to ride tomorrow. That was his best horse. As he walked down the aisle he calculated how many horses they would need and whether to take a wagon or not. He wanted speed, but certainly they would be able to bring more things if they took the wagon. Harold decided that if he and his sons each brought an extra mount those horses could also be used for pack animals, and a cart would not be needed. He retrieved some saddlebags for packing, and returned to the house as it began to drizzle.

Harold collected all the money and things of value that he had in the house. There was quite a bit; the Lightheart estate was a very successful one. The valuables would be buried nearby for when he returned; they were too heavy to be brought. The clothes he had stacked up on the table before were all that he would need for garments, and he placed those in the saddlebags along with the money. All of the important records and agreements followed those. He figured it would not be wise to leave all of those for Sandrina to find when she got here, though what she would do with them he could not fathom. There was still a little bit more room, and he mused on what else might be needed. My knife, Harold remembered. He returned to the kitchen, and it took some effort to pull the weapon out of the door despite his strength. He belted on his sword as well, figuring it would not be wise to go without it until Sandrina and likely Henry were dead. He thought, and hoped, that he would not meet Henry again anytime soon, because the new house his brother had settled in was a couple days’ hard ride from here.

Harold looked around. He didn’t want to leave, but it really was his only choice. He didn’t think there was much more to do, other than hire some mercenaries. He supposed four or five would work; that would leave ten men here. Ten would do. Everything was coming together nicely, and yet he could not shake the feeling of foreboding that had been building in him ever since he had heard that Sandrina was alive.

[Morsul the Dark]

Sam came upon the house and looked at it. It seemed to lean towards him, it seemed to know his secret. Sam was glad to hear is father rummaging around inside. Sam gave himself all the confidence as he could and walked in. There was the large figure that was his father. "Father," Sam started weakly, then louder more boldly, "Father, I have something to tell you, I am going to stay here I am not running away with you and Arthur I must face what I have done. Hang me they may, but Id rather get my illbegotten fate than live as guilt takes my mind." Sam looked for a reaction from his father his father seemed worried as well.

Sam remembered as a little child Harold had been rather rough but caring one of the best lessons was when he and father had gone camping alone Arthur stayed home to look after the servants, a wolf had come upon them and Harold killed it using his dagger. 'Look my boy,' he had said showing sam the wolf's face. 'You see that? It's fear, never show someone you're afraid itg makes you weak.'

How did this man, who had killed countless foes in battle, fought a wolf and cared for a family show fear? Sam took it as weakness something he did not see in his father. "I'm staying," he repeated. He then waited for his father to speak.

[Crystal Heart]

Hama took a deep breath. He could see that Sandrina was absolutely enraged by what had happened. He didn't blame her. He would be too if it had happened to him.

"Your father and mother gave him the Lightheart estate. He and his sons are living there. I pledge to you that justice will prevail. Do you wish to go there? To set things right?" Hama asked her, hoping that she did. At this point he would kill anyone else that harmed the young woman. She had the kindest heart that he had ever known. He had met her a couple of times and each time she had been fascinated by what he did and who he was. She never treated him any differently then she would any one else. Sure, she was his junior by five years but he had come to have a deep connection to the young woman. He wouldn't define it as love. No, it was a brother sister type love he believed. She looked up to him. She had looked to him for help and protection. Now he would provide it. Even if it meant his life.

"Yes, I want justice. I want to go there, but do we not need more people to accompany us?" Sandrina asked, looking at the small band of a couple of men and women. "We are very few at this point."

[Himaran]

Raen could see the pain on Sandrina's face, along with the fierce anger, and it was more than he could bear. She had been beaten in the wildnerness and supposed dead, but her Sandrina was. It was time for her attackers to pay. "Few, yes. But I will go with you as well; they left you for dead, and I have no intention of letting them finish the job." Not after a year and half combing every forest within five miles of the last area she was seen, at any rate. There would, of course, be complications. Sandrina's enemies would not simply abandon the estate... without a fight, at least.

"We must go to the family home, you are right, Hama. But they will not surrender it with no resistance. We have to be prepared. If we simply walk in the front door you, Sandrina, as well as the rest of us will not survive. These are killers, and they must be treated as such."

"I agree," said Braedon. "If we are to take back your home, information must be gathered... along with weapons for those of you that have none." The rangers waited, hoping that Sandrina would not shun their services.

[Firefoot]

“I’m staying.” Samuel was clearly waiting for him to speak, which was precisely why Harold said nothing. Most people were uncomfortable with silence, Harold had found, and if a person was uncomfortable he could more easily win them over to his side. Samuel began to fidget a little bit. Just as I suspected, thought Harold. He isn’t as confident as he would like me to believe. That gave Harold a good idea of where to start; if Samuel wasn’t completely confident, then he might be brought around to the other side. Harold let the quiet stretch on for a while longer, and when he spoke his voice could have been called mild, except for the unsaid message that lay beneath his words.

“So your conscience is niggling at you, eh? You want to do ‘the right thing’? Now tell me something. How would staying here help anything? You look for mercy. If there is none, what then? Do you plan to fight? Fighting means killing people. How would that clear your conscience? Let’s say they don’t kill you. Do you think they’re going to give you your job here at the estate back? I don’t think that’s what you really want. Working underneath someone, and having them in charge of your pay, which would in fact be considerably less than what you have been getting. Let the mercenaries finish off the job, and we can come back to wealth and comfort. It’s a mighty gamble you take, one that risks your very life. Come with, and I promise you that you will make it out alive. Think about it. Do you really want to stay?” finished Harold. He thought nothing of the promise he had made. He could guarantee no such thing, but the trick was making Samuel believe that he could. Harold felt that he had done a pretty good job on all accounts. Inwardly he smiled at the look of confusion on Samuel’s face, undoubtedly from his calm tone of voice.

“I’m staying,” said Samuel, though he sounded uncertain. It wasn’t the result Harold had hoped for, but it was close enough. Samuel was no longer solid in his standing, and Harold decided that it was now time to threaten. He took a step closer to Samuel and drew himself up to his full height. He had had plenty of practice making himself look intimidating.

“Listen, boy,” he said, mild no longer. The words were cutting, sharper than any knife. “You are coming, even if I have to knock you over the head and tie you to a horse. I would advise you to come of your own free will. I have known Henry a great deal longer than you have, and let me tell you something: you will receive no mercy. Do you hear me? Now get packing. Do you hear me? Go!”

[Morsul the Dark]

Harold seemed to tower over Sam as he finished his speech. Sam feared his father but he feared death more. Sam slumped down in a chair a tear running down his cheek, "I'll go," He said trying not to let his fear show or be heard. He began to walk back to his house.

As he walked, Harold's words filled his head, 'there would be no mercy.' He was right and Sam knew it. Sam went into his living room and packed his pipeweed, some provisions, and two changes of clothes. He went out to the stable and put his pack on its back and mounted the steed.

Sam looked back at the Estate, "I will never be able to return here," Sam said sadly. He decided to ride off the his brother's house. He wiped the remaining tears from his face. Then he saw his father riding ot from the estate, "May you burn in Morgoth's Halls," Sam whispered in a deathly cold voice.

[Pippin Pondlily]

Haven, who had been listening intently to the discourse between the five people crowding the bar, let out a low, long whistle. She was very familiar with Henry Lightheart and his brother Harold. She had trained Henry's family's horses for the past five years, and Harold's now for the past seven or so months. She had been very fond of Henry and his wife, never having actually met Sandrina, and was very sore to hear what had happened to their daughter. And when the Lighthearts packed up and moved, leaving their estate to Harold and his two bitter sons, Haven was gravely disappointed. Dealing with Harold Lightheart was like sticking ones teeth into a cold, bitter lemon. Even so, she was quite appalled to learn that Arthur and Samuel may have had something to do with the young woman's condition.

Haven finished off her wine in one gulp and approached the bar. She slid her mug across the counter and acknowledged the bartender, who had one ear turned towards the little reunion's conversation. Something caught in Haven's mind. If she could hear their conversation others certainly could as well, others who knew the Harold Lightheart. She decided to intervene and lightly touched the arm of one of the rangers closest to her. The group fell suddenly silent and looked at her.

"Sorry to intrude," she said, looking about the room, "but this may not be the best place to carry on your little…meeting. May I propose a smaller room to be of a more private, therefore, safer nature?" The rangers by instinct stiffened and lowered their hands to their sheaths, casting a glance towards the patrons who suddenly were quite suspicious, and almost sinister in appearance. The other young woman placed a hand on Sandrina's elbow and led her off of her stool. Haven smiled formally and motioned to a door on the back wall. "A private dining room," she explained. The original five walked ahead of her and she laid a silver penny on the counter and pointed towards the room. The bartender nodded and pocketed the coin.

Raen remained standing near the door after Haven entered. She caught his meaning and took a seat at the table, allowing him to lock and secure the room.

"No, offense…" the woman who was not Sandrina began but Haven interrupted.

"Of course. I'm Haven Storms," she looked quickly at all the faces, wondering if any of them would recognize her. "I work for Rillis Wheed, the horse trainer." To her surprise and relief they all seemed to have some sort of recognition of her name, or at least of her employer's. "I've traded with your father, Sandrina, and your uncle recently--but two weeks ago. I overheard your conversation and it occurred to me that perhaps I was not the only nosy eavesdropper in the room. I don't mean to be rude I only thought it might be safer for you all talk elsewhere. I understand that in the surprise of finding Miss Lightheart alive the thought of immediate security may have eluded some of you who otherwise would be right on top of such matters…" They were relatively silent, hanging on her words, and most likely suspicious of her exact intentions. She lifted her brows, looking openly at the others around her, "Have I acted inappropriately?"

[The Perky Ent]

Arthur's estate wasn't crowded with many buildings. In fact, besides Arthur's house, there were no major buildings at all. Just a wide plain of fields, and hills. Being such a beautiful location, many people would enter without permission, but Arthur took care of it. Apart from the land, there was a large pond, plentiful with fish. Realizing the opportunity, Arthur would charge people to fish in the pond. Presently, there was nobody there, with the exception of of Gimbrol, the man Arthur hired to keep track of the money people paid to fish in the pond. "Grimbrol, I'm calling you in! What's today's profit? Where's my money?" Arthur asked, dismounting from his horse.

"Oh, Arthur!" the startled Grimbrol said. "I didn't expect you to visit here today! What brings you here? Something wrong?" "Where's the money?" Arthur said, closing in on Grimbrol. "Uh...what money? There is no money! There's been no one here all day! No one!" Grimbrol said, his checks blushing. Arthur walked around the edge of the pond, looking for clues. Arthur didn't trust Grimbrol for one second, but went along with it anyway. "You're right, there's been no one here all day. I'll just go home." Arthur said, walking back to his horse. "Yes, go home and get some sleep! I daresay you need it. You're been working hard lately. Take a break. Go home." Grimbrol said, giving a subtle exhale. "Oh, by the way, Grimbrol! I talked to Peter Hollums today. You know him don't you? He runs the pub? Well, he was thanking me today for my generocity for letting him use my pond. He says he cought seven fish, and paid you well for it!"

In an instant, Arthur pulled out his sword, and landed it on Grimbrol's throat. "Trecherous little worm! All this time, you've been slowly robbing me! I should cut your throat! You don't deserve life! But I'll give you one chance! Where's my money?" The veins were popping in Arthur's nect as he held his sword firm. "Here! Here! Take it! Just don't kill me!" Grimbrol said, throwing a leather bag filled with gold. Arthur was still for a moment, but then put his sword back. Pausing, he then grtabbed his club, and hit Grimbrol's horse very strongly. Running after it, Grimbrol sprinted into the horizon. Grabbing the money, Arthur got back on his horse, and road back to his house.

[Morsul the Dark]

Sam rode off towards his brother's house. He did not want to show his brother he was sad so he began to hum to himself to cheer up. As he rode he saw a horse galloping in his direction it had a man hanging onto its tale. Sam jumped off his horse and stood and as the horse neared it slowed to a trot. Sam took the reigns and stopped the wild beast. He looked at the man bloody and hurt by the dragging. "You there who are you?"

"Grimbrol, good sir," The man said through short gasps. "I work for Arthur, or I did at any rate. I keep his pond you see and he payed me so little that I stole from him and he felt need to punish me for feeding my family."

"Grimbol?" Sam muttered, "Ah yes! Grimbol your the father of Gorgona and Grinbo?"

"Yes, why you must be Samuel Lightheart, my children are very fond of you!" Grimbol stated smiling for the first time.

"And I of them," Sam stated then he looked Grimbol up and down. Why was Arthur so cruel sometimes? this poor man had a family and he had just wanted to feed then and Arthur had robbed him of dignity pride, and food. "Here," Sam said as he handed Grimbol a small bag of gold. "I am sorry I can not give more, tell your children that I will be gone for a bit and not to come looking for me."

Grimbol nodded and walked off then turned back, "They will ask where have you gone?"

"I do not know,"Sam said sadly with that he mounted and continued to Arthur's house.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina was grateful that someone believed that it would be a good idea to not allow her presence known to the people that were trying to protect her.

"I thank you all for your help. I do need it. Without my memories I am lost. I can feel some of these memories are already slippiing from my grasp. We will need to go to the estate, I am sure they would not have fled from what they have taken from me and my family. We will need weapons, or at least I do. I was stripped of
everything when I was beaten," Sandrina said, her eyes looking far away.

She never had believed that her own family would be so cruel towards her. Well, maybe she had at one time, but she couldn't remember if she had ever thought that way. She had lived, what the last nine months, believing she was someone else.

She only hoped that these people would help her and that she wasn't walking into a trap of deceit.

[starkat]

Anora had been surprised by the move into the private dining room. She was a little suspicious of the woman who had hustled them in there. When Haven introduced herself, Anora’s suspicions eased somewhat.

When Haven asked if she had behaved inappropriately, Anora took the opportunity to make introductions. “Thank you for your concern. You were right we should not have been standing out in the open like that. I am Anora.” She introduced each member of the company and then turned to the rangers.

“I need to find another horse for our journey. My own came up lame yesterday. That was why I stayed at the inn. He would probably be alright, but I would rather not risk him any further.”

One of the rangers nodded and went to see about it. Anora turned to Sandrina, “While I was here in Rohan, one of my stops was to a sword smith because my blade needed to be seen to. I purchased a second weapon. Would you like to use it?”

[Pippin Pondlily]

"If your party should be short on horses," Haven said, before the ranger left the room entirely, "I should have no trouble in acquiring some for your uses." The group turned to look at her. "It may even be a good idea to get fresh horses if you all have been traveling for some time from the looks of things."

Haven was beginning to feel a sort of obligation to these people to help as much as she could. Call it her citizen duty or what you please, she had a feeling that she was jumping feet first into something that could have a great impact on her life.

[Himaran]

Raen stopped at the door and returned to the group after Haven offered to procure horses. He was new in Rohan himself, and steeds (particularly the act of renting or purchasing them) had never been his calling anyway. But, feeling a strong urging to contribute, the ranger reluctantly pulled one of the long, slender knives out of his belt and extended it (handle first) towards Sandrina. "Perhaps, Miss, you would like use one of these? Deadly from afar, and in close, of course." The woman thanked him and slid it into her belt gingerly. He turned away and walked towards the open window, suddenly accosted by the need for fresh air. It was stuffy in the small room, and the cool breeze was quite comfortable.

Glancing down at the cobbled road, Raen noticed a lone rider trot his horse past the establishment and then gallop out of sight. Travelers were rare in these parts of Rohan, and the man had not appeared to be a soldier. The ranger knew that he was overly paranoid, but this was no coincidence. The messenger had to be headed for the estate, there was no doubt in his mind. How to explain it to the others, however, was another matter. Perhaps, this time, his worries should be kept private. At the expense of Sandrina? No, this was too serious a matter to worry about sounding foolish. Still, he decided to approach Braedon first with his suspicions.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina gave a nod of thanks and watched as the man hurried out of the room, his face flushed. She wondered why he was acting the way he was.

"Fresh horse might be a good idea. I have been travelling on foot myself, thus I have no horse. If it is alright with the rest of you. Excuse me for a moment," Sandrina said, following the man named Raen out.

She burst out into the cold night air and walked over to Raen just in time to see a dark sillouetted figure running away. She looked at Raen's face. She had never seen a man look so pale.

"Who was that? Why do you look so pale? Please, kind sir tell me," Sandrina begged, shivering in the cold. Her insides felt like ice and for the first time since she had wandered she felt truly scared for her life and for the others that accompanied her.

"He is going to tell them isn't he?" Sandrina asked, her voice shaking.

Memories of her beating flooded her mind. She cried out and fell to the ground, shaking and crying as the memories increased in intensity. A single word escaped her lips.

"Help."

[Arien]

Braedon watched Sandrina followed Raen out, and so he too followed. The others were capable by themselves at the moment and they seemed to have an adequate amount of control over the planning for the while. He had preferred to stay quiet during their planning, he was relatively sure that they were all able of supplying themselves with sufficient weapons.

They were, all in all an capable group, but Braedon knew that they would need to be more than just capable if they were expecting to do what was being suggested, or at least what he thought was being suggested.

He went after Sandrina, as she came to a stop next to Raen he slowed his step. His eyes cast down the down the road to where the two were staring and where a dark figure was fading into the distance. Sandrina looked a back to Raen, her face full of confusion.

"Who was that? Why do you look so pale? Please, kind sir tell me," she begged him, but Raen said nothing. Neither did Braedon. He stood behind the two watching silently; they were unaware of his presence. Quietly he watched as Sandrina’s confusion turned to fear. "He is going to tell them isn't he?" She was shaking now.

Still Raen did not answer; he cast his eyes down to the floor and the up to her as she fell to the floor, tears falling from her eyes.

“Help,” she whispered. Raen looked to Braedon. They both knew that that messenger was heading. They had to try and get going as soon as possible. Braedon looked to Sandrina, he pitied her, and it was surely a difficult thing to deal with.

He wished perhaps he could offer his sympathy or words of comfort to help her, but it was not in his nature. He did not even know how too! Anything he could think of sounded foolish and too naïve considering the circumstances.

Instead Raen broke the silence in-between Sandrina’s quiet weeping. “We will help you. We both will.”

She looked to Braedon; he nodded trying to give an encouraging look. It was hopeless.

“We all will.” Raen said helping her to her feet. The others now had taken notice of Sandrina and the other two.

Anora approached Sandrina, and grasped her hands. “You are shaking, what is wrong Sandrina?” Sandrina withdrew her hands from her friends and crossed them across her chest, rubbing her arms.

“They know...” she said quietly.

“Who knows?” Hama said, coming forward to stand next to Anora.

“A messenger, perhaps.” Braedon spoke up.

“Perhaps?!” Anora said, a little vexed at the situation. “It must be more than that if Sandrina...” she looked to her friend.

“What he means is it is likely, and we should be prepared for the worse. It is almost certain that if this messenger is heading to Sandrina’s Uncle we cannot expect this undertaking to be and easy one. We must be prepared.”

The group nodded.

[The Perky Ent]

"That tresonous Grimbrol!" Arthur shouted, riding back to his house. "Why didn't I just kill him! I would have sent a message to all who have tried to rob me! You'd think that after finding that farmer under the boulder they'd get the hint! But no! They try it again! When I get back, if there's been anything taken, everybody dies!" Across large green pastures Arthur rode, each mile a short gallop. Then, after a short ride, Arthur approached his house. Just the way he left it. "Home sweet home!" Arthur said, getting off his horse. The horse knew what to do now. It ran through the fields until it came to a fence on the horizon. There, a old man opened the gate and let the horse in. He would be safe for the night.

"What's this?" Arthur said as he observed the house. The door was opened a jar. "That's it! This one's gonna pay! I'm pushed over the line. It's a simple system. On my land, you do what I say, or else! I see no problem in the system. Why should they need to steal! Do they think I'm so rich because I rob?" Arthur said as he grabbed his sword and walked into the house.

Inside it was dark, but Arthur smelled something. Pipeweed. Someone had broken into his statch of Old Toby. Arthur was about to bring light into the room, but suddenly a light kindled itself in the back of the room. "No brother, you're rich because you gamble" Samuel had walked into the light to greet his brother. Instantly, Arthur put his sword away, and exhaled greatly. "Sam! There's no need to hide! What's the problem? Has father sent you? What's the matter?"

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama walked out of the doors of the inn, following Sandrina with interest more than concern. He saw her fall to her knees, and looked at Braedon. By Eru that man looked pale...He followed his gaze and saw the man running down the street. He swore silently under his breath and unstrapped his bow, fitted an arrow to it and fired roughly in the direction of the running man. Sandrina jumped at the sound, the others whirled around, looking at Hama who was standing, looking intently after his arrow.

It thudded to the ground in front of the man, who screeched to a halt for a moment, then looked over his shoulder and laughed and turned back to continue his running. Hama swore loudly, causing Sandrina to jump even more, and everyone else to raise at least one of their eyebrows. Hama knelt down on one knee in front of Sandrina, quickly replacing his bow as he did so, and took her head in both her hands, tilting it up so that she was looking at him. "Sandrina, if you need fresh horses, or weapons, or anything else from the Rohan armoury. You need only to ask. I can secure them from King Eomer. You will be perfectly safe as long as I am around to protect you. These men, your uncle and cousins, they will be punished so severely that it will make what happened to you look like a light fall." Hama smiled kindly as he said this, hoping that Sandrina would smile back, when she didn't he added, "You will have justice, I promise you that."

[Firefoot]

Harold had watched passively and coldly when Samuel left the room, a single tear falling down his face. He always preferred persuading people to breaking them to his will, but sometimes people needed to be broken. Harold only did what needed doing. If Samuel had been stronger willed he wouldn’t have come in here complaining that he could not leave with a clear conscience. It never occurred to Harold that perhaps if Samuel had been stronger willed he would not have given in to going. He did not dwell on it, and returned to business.

He was packed up, except for perishable food supplies. Those could be gotten together in the morning, or later that night. The next thing that needed doing was the hiring of mercenaries. He was resigned to needing to pay them, and then trust them to do their job. He wouldn’t trust them, really, but he had to leave them. There was an inn a few miles up the road. Harold knew that sometimes mercenaries without work stayed there. The day was passing to mid-afternoon already, but Harold thought that he could be there and back before full dark.

For the third time that day, Harold headed out to the stables. It had stopped drizzling, but clouds were gathering again; he figured on more rain coming soon. He selected a chestnut mare for his ride into town. She was a speedy horse, but she would not be taken when they left because of her bad ankles. As he rode out, he saw Samuel headed for Arthur’s estates. Harold called out, “You may tell Arthur that I am headed into town to hire some mercenaries.” Then he passed out of earshot.

Harold made it to the inn in reasonable time. He had not pushed the mare beyond a steady canter, ground-eating but not too tiring. He tied her outside the inn and went inside. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he realized that there were not many people inside the common room yet, due to the early hour. He did find what he had been looking for, however: a small group of men standing to the side, marked by their swords and bearing to be soldiers. Harold nodded once to himself. They should work. He walked over there.

“Good day to you,” he said. “I have a proposition...”

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina smiled up at Hama. She knew deep down in her heart that he was speaking the truth. That everything about him was true and that he would never betray her. She knew that he would never do anything to harm her and with that knowledge in her mind she felt much better about the situation.

Sandrina searched her memory in vain for a thread of him there. She wanted to remember him. There was something so pure and honest about him. Something that she deeply liked about him. Something that she was sure she had been around before.

"Whatever you can provide us, dear Hama. I trust you with my life. Do tell, have you ever been in my life before this night?" Sandrina asked softly, placing a hand upon his forearm that still held her face in his strong hands.

[starkat]

Anora stood next to her friend as Sandrina spoke to Hama. Lost in her own thoughts about the messenger, Anora gave a quick shake of her head when she realized that time was slipping away.

She turned to the group. "I am sorry for interrupting, but we should probably gather our things."

Raen and Braedon both nodded. Raen spoke up. "Haven, if you will see to the horses the rest of us will gather our things." Haven walked off conferring with each other about various places to get the horses that the group would need.

Hama and Anora exchanged worried glances. They stepped aside for a moment to talk. “I do not think she should be left alone right now. Maybe she should come with one of us while we gather our things.”

Anora bowed to Hama’s wisdom in this matter. “That sounds like a good idea. I will ask her and leave the choice up to her.”

Anora looked over at her friend. Sandrina was leaning against a chair. "Sandrina, where is your room? Do you want one of us to go with you?"

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina looked up at Anora and blinked. She had no idea that she would have to choose protection and she did not recall getting any room. She thought and realized that she hadn't.

"I don't have a room and probably one of the men should stay with me. Two women could be taken over easily by force. Hama, will you stay with me or are you bringing horses and the like? I have no idea what is going on any more," Sandrina sighed.

She shook her thoughts away, trying to clear her mind.

"Anora you should probably stay as well and try to help me remember," Sandrina suggested, patting the young woman on the arm.

"You're the closet thing to family that I have at this point." She glanced over at Hama, who looked at her softly. As far back as she could remember, which wasn't very far, she had never seen a man look at her the way he did. Like she was precious. She blinked a couple of times, flattered by the look or what she thought was behind it. She shook it away.

"Tell me everything."

[starkat]

Anora nodded at Sandrina. "Give me a moment and I will go gather my things. I did not unpack when I arrived and it will only take a moment."

The young woman made sure that Hama would stay with Sandrina while she was gone and then headed for her room. Entering, Anora quickly changed into riding clothes. She strapped her sword around her waist and gethered her things. She walked downstairs and made arrangements with the inn keeper to ship a portion of her things home along with a letter.

I hate to lie to my parents, but if I tell the truth and someone intercepts this message... I just hoe Sandrina doesn't get alarmed that I am sending this. Her thoughts trailed off as she wrote a letter to her parents saying that she had been delayed due to her horse becoming lame.

Returning to Sandrina's side, she noticed that her friend was looking at her strange. "It is alright Sandrina. I only sent a letter to my parents explaining why I would not be returning. Would you like to read it?"

"Can we do that?" Sandrina asked.

"Certainly." The two friends walked over to the inn keeper and Sandrina read the note that Anora had written.

She turned to Anora, "Thank you. Now tell me everything please."

Anora sat down and began telling Sandrina how they met. She moved on from there to their letter writing.

[Himaran]

Raen wasted no time leaving the group and returning to the inn, making straight for his quarters. The paranoia he had felt earlier was rising like a river during a storm, and the ranger took every percaution. Knife in hand, he hurried up the stairs, only to stop and peer around the corner slowly. Nothing. A door slammed further down the hall, and he jumped nervously. Calm down, you should be used to such circumstances. But knowing that enemies were about when you cannot discern them from regular townsfolk can be rather terrifying, and although Raen was not yet ready to give into such emotions he was still quite stressed.

A cool wind blew through the open window at the far end of the hallway. Raen left the stairwell and headed towards his room, watching for movement at the far end. Instead of turning, he passed by his door and casually glanced through the open shutters. Hama's arrow was barely visible, burried in the center of the road. The runner, having mounted after his near demise, was long gone, probably halfway to Sandrina's estate. But nothing could be done; her attackers could be waiting, or perhaps had fled. Something would be there, however - although not necessarily members of the woman's family.

Stepping back, he unlocked his room and entered. Packing would have to be a quick affair, and the ranger's small bag was soon filled and tied shut. Raen's remaining knife (and a full quiver) returned to its home in his belt, and a longsword was strapped to his back. Snatching his bow from a hook on the crusted brick wall, he shut the door and turned the key for a final time before making for the stairwell. Not at all burdened by his pack and weapons, the ranger strode towards the main desk and slapped the key down on the polished wood. Coins were handed over, and a nod of thanks (along with several advertisements) was returned. Raen stuffed the parchments in his pack for kindling and left the establishment. He made at once for a smith on the other side of the town, plucking Hama's shaft from the ground as he past by.

"Heading out to look for that Sandrina girl again, eh," intoned the familier gruff man at the shop. Chuckling at his own rye joke, he took Raen's extended blades and proceeded to sharpen them over a hand-cranked wheel.

"No, just escorting a group back to their home. Dangerous country, these days." To this the smith merely nodded, and soon the ranger was headed back to the inn; furbished with refined tools of war.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina nodded as Anora told her everything that she knew. She listened intently, trying to make memories come with each thing that she said, but to no avail.

At the end of Anora's stories she stood up from the chair she had sat down in and smiled.

"I thank you for doing that Anora. I think we need to find everyone once again. Get going. We have stayed in one spot for too long and with that messanger no doubtedly on his way to my evil cousins and uncle they will probably be here within a couple of hours after hearing of my arrival from the presumed dead. Hama, do you have any idea where every one went?"

She turned to look at Hama who looked deep in thought. She wondered if he would even speak to her, if he was too deep in thought that he had not heard her. She knew that she had done that many times before since her fall. It was hard not to when you were trying to regain an entire life time back. A life time that she was sure was filled with happiness and love. A life time filled with friends and family which was all lost to her. Some memories had come back, but not enough to make her feel complete once more. She had the nagging feeling that she was only half a person because the biggest part of her was gone.

She knew that Hama would stick to his vow of allowing her justice, but she still wasn't sure how she would take out that justice. She wanted their punishments to be just for what they did to her, but she was unsure if she would be able to weild the sword that killed them. She swallowed hard and returned her attention back to Hama, wondering if he was even here at all or if he was waiting for her to do something.

[Pippin Pondlily]

Haven left the inn as soon as she could, leaving the group with a promise of her hasty return with six strong mounts. She rode quickly over the dark, pebble-strewn road that led to the expansive grounds of the horse-farm Rillis Wheed ran and entered through the massive wood doors that opened onto the property. In the stillness of the night the grounds seemed even larger and unwelcoming. There was no wind and the silence surrounding her seemed to press in on her ears and mouth as if to suffocate her. Her short black curls bounced over the tops of her shoulders as her horse trotted up to the stable and entered into the long hallway towards which the majority of the stalls faced. She dismounted and looped the lead rope of her horse's bridal through one of the hooks on the wall by the tack room before scouting out which horses would be most appropriate for the use of Sandrina and her friends.

As she inspected the various mares and stallions Haven deliberated about the situation she had found herself in. She could remember hearing of Sandrina's disappearance and assumed death and the naturally horrible impact it had had on her parents. When they moved, leaving the estate and family business to Harold and his two sons, Haven hadn't thought much of it except that Wheed's business had lost two of his most congenial customers. What Haven overheard tonight came to her suddenly as somewhat of a shock but as she had looked at the faces of the others with the lost Lightheart girl and measured their story up against the nature and capabilities of the current occupants of the Lightheart Estate, Haven was easily persuaded.

Haven respected what those others, the two rangers, the merchant woman from Gondor and the tall Rohirrim were doing to aid the girl. Their passionate dedication, however, to achieve justice for Sandrina's sake was unnaturally valiant. To have no alternate motive towards personal gain or self advancement in this endeavor seemed unrealistic to Haven and her curiosity to see the unfurling of this plot was making her dizzy.

One of the side doors to the barn swung open and slammed up against the wall sending a handful of owls that were resting on the rafters screeching through the vents under the roof's various alcoves. A lantern floated out into the hallway and illuminated the dirt floor followed by a pair of thick, black leather boots and then a gloved hand holding onto the large staff from which the light was hung. As the person turned the corner, Haven could make out the impossibly tall and lean figure of Rillis Wheed. His thick red hair was pulled back into a ponytail that reached just between his shoulder blades and a short beard covered his jaw from ear to ear and surrounded his mouth. His black eyes seemed to burn a hole down the middle of the hallway as he searched for the culprit who had broken into his stables in the middle of the night.

When he caught sight of Haven his expression relaxed into one of familiar recognition and he lifted the lantern above his head as he walked down the aisle to meet her. "I didn't think you were coming back," he said, his voice betraying his relief. Haven avoided his gaze and lifted a bridle off the wall next to one fine black horse's stall and let herself in. Rillis Wheed lifted his brows. "What are you about?" She slipped the tack over the horse's nose and behind his ears, securing the metal bit behind his back teeth before leading him out into the hallway. Then she faced her employer over the back of the mount as she brushed down the horse's coat before sliding on its blanket and saddle.

"I'm going to borrow six of your horses, Rillis."

He blinked. "Oh? Might I inquire as to the reason and length of time?"

"You may," she replied, turning to hoist the thick wool blanket up onto the horse's back, "but I'm afraid I can't answer to either query."

"Then what makes you think I'll consent to this madness?" He had slipped the lantern into a slot in the wall and now leaned up against the stall door, his arms folded across his chest.

Haven matched his steady gaze unwaveringly and in an icy, firm tone said: "Rillis, I haven't asked your permission because I have no defense to give you that would thus enable you to grant it to me. If you want to stop me, Rillis, go ahead."

"You would fight me?"

"Would you fight me?" For a moment the two just stood looking at each other evenly over the back of the black stallion.

"I've never trusted your judgment, Haven, and I have no reason to do so now. But an attempt to overpower you physically would destroy much between us and I can think of nothing that would give good cause to such a loss." He took a step forwards and leaned on the back of the horse, extended a hand and gently brushed a loose curl dangling in her eyes behind her ear. "You are like a daughter to me." Haven grimaced humorously and pushed away his hand. They both laughed.

"What a wretched thought," Haven muttered audibly. Rillis took up his lantern and walked around to the other side of the horse. He looked tenderly down into Haven's eyes, his own expression full of concern and a forbidden emotion that pained them both.

"Don't think on it. Take what you need and do what you think you have to do. I hope someday you'll come back and work for me again, once the pain of what happened today is past." He paused and Haven closed her eyes against the painful beat of her heart. He made a slight move to advance but caught himself suddenly. "Be safe." Any other words they might have spoken were lost in the single tear that ran down Haven's cheek. "Goodbye," the horse master whispered. Haven watched, her expression stone, as the man retreated down the hall and disappeared through the side door leaving her in the dark with only the light from the moon that seeped in through the ceiling vents to guide her work.



It was an half hour before sunrise when she finally set out from the horse farm leading five strong, fresh horses, two mares and three stallions all fully equipped with bags buckled onto the saddle for storage of the company's things and sheath loops wrapped around the horns. She sat astride a tall brown stallion sure in his strides and of a confident, well behaved nature. A bag of a few of her own necessities and a rolled up blanket was buckled on behind where she sat and her sword hung by her left knee. She had decided to go along with the company to watch over the horses. She remembered, too, the woman saying something about giving money rewards in exchange for their services, though some had refused that offer, Haven reasoned that if their expedition did prove successful, there was no reason why the horse trainer should not reap some sort of award for her services.

The black of the sky was just beginning to lift as she led the mounts into the inn's stable-yard. She entered the inn, pulling the hood of her cloak away from her face. Seated at the bar counter were the two rangers called Raen and Braedon. She leaned against the counter beside them, took off her gloves and ordered a tumbler of coffee.

"I've got six strong, confident horses ready in the yard for our uses," she informed them, avoiding any awkward formality. "So as soon as it is seen fit, we can leave." She paused and smiled at their amused expressions. "Oh yes," she said, lifting the steaming coffee to her lips, "I'm coming too."

[The Perky Ent]

"What's on your mind Samuel?" Arthur said, pulling up a chair and lighting another candle. Samuel took two deep breaths before he released his thoughts. "I saw Grimbrol while I was comming here. He seemed very upset" "Don't talk about that stealing maggot in front of me! I hope I never hear of him again" Arthur said, banging the hilt of his sword on a table. "He got what he deserved!" "What he deserved? His family starves and is poor? Is that what he deserves? He's only trying to make a living. We're all not as good gamblers are you are, you know. It's the only way he knows how to make money!"Samuel said, raising his voice ever so slightly. "Are you saying gambling is the only way to make money? There's many ways! Working at the pond! That's one way! But that wasn't good enough for him! He stole from me! Are you saying stealing should go un-punished?

"If it's just" Samuel whispered, pulling his candle back, to slightly dim the light of the room. For a while there was silence. Sam could tell that Arthur was building up with rage. The name kind of rage he had inherited from his father. "Look Sam! To me it's very simple! This isn't directly from King Eomer! It's my pond, on my land, on my family's estate! This isn't a public job. I hand pick the people who work for me. It's my business, and I can decide what to do with it. It's none of your business what happens. Forgot it. What's done is done, and I wash my hands of the matter. Now get over here and help me pack!" Sam sat stiffly, but dared not push Arthur any further. He smoked another bit of pipeweed, and got up to help Arthur.

After about an hour, Arthur was packed and ready to go. Just as he walked for the door, Samuel summoned him back. "What Sam?" Arthur said, putting his bags, which were mostly filled of pipeweed, down. "I'm having second thoughts about this trip! What if we don't come back! I think it's foolish alltogether!" Once again, a awkward silence filled the room. "Don't worry brother! If something happens, I'll take care of you" And with that, they left the house, mounted their horses, and rode to Harold's house.

[Arien]

Braedon fumbled with his knife for a few seconds beofre placing it in its sheath. He stood up and turned around looking at his belongings, quickly he placed them into his pack. Finding Sandrina was the last thing he had expected on this visit to Rohan, never would he have bet on it.

He made his way over to the basin and placed his hand in the salty water, it stung, but it would heal faster. Drawing it out he could see that it was healing, slowly. Carefully he put a bandage arond it, finally squeezing it he muttered, "That will do."

He walked over to the small table by the window and looked out, Raen walked out into the street. Plucking Hama's arrow from the ground as he went. Braedon picked up the herbs and medicne he had freshly prepared the previous night. It wasn't finished yet but he would have no time now. It would have to be done on the move.

He pushed the cork into the bottle and placed his things in his pack and fastened it. He didn' need to go anywhere. He had already stocked up on supplies yesterday for some reason he could not calculate he felt he would need them.

Checking over his room one last time he picked up a letter from the bed and headed downstairs. He handed the message to the barkeep with a few coins, he would see that the message got to his father. He told him where he was going, and that he would return to see him as soon as business had been dealt with.

Braedon hastily ate, although he did not feel hungry and went to his room. He slept for a while but could not drift into a sleep he was comfortable with. SO instead he headed down to the bar to wait for the others.

[starkat]

Anora and Sandrina had spent so much time talking that the hour had grown late before they realized it. The women were enjoying their conversation so they continued talking for quite a while. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Raen and Braedon walk over to the counter and order something to drink. Hama was sitting near the young women keeping a close eye on them. Raen came over and waved Hama off so that he could gather up his things.

He thanked the ranger and walked off for a few moments. Anora turned back to her friend and the two of them continued their conversation. They talked about Anora’s life and some of the places Sandrina had been since her disappearance. Hama returned and once again took up his post nearby. Raen rejoined Braedon at the counter.

A few minutes later, Haven entered the room and the girls watched as she walked over to the rangers. The group conversed for a few moments and walked over to them. “Haven has horses for all of us including herself.”

Anora raised her eyebrow. “It sounds good to me, Sandrina?” Everyone turned to Sandrina and waited for her answer.

[Firefoot]

By the time Harold finally left the inn it was past sundown. He mounted his mare and headed off at a slow trot, not wanting the horse to injure a leg in the deepening darkness. The darkness fit his mood. Negotiating with the mercenaries had not gone nearly so well as he had hoped. They had demanded more money than he had hoped, though not expected. He had been forced to pay them some money in advance, with the promise of more once the job was done. He had made it quite clear that he expected them at the estates early the next morning. He had not told them exactly who they were to kill, either; he had simply told him that a small armed group was coming to plunder his estates and kill him. He had given no reasons. Harold suspected that this was part of the reason the pay had been so high. Mercenaries usually liked to know what they were getting into.

When he finally arrived home he handed the horse off to a stable hand and hurried up to the house. He would be grateful when the day was done. He was surprised and slightly irritated to find his sons waiting for him at the house. Arthur appeared ready to leave and Samuel, if still hesitant about going, looked resigned to the fact.

“Do you need something?” he asked gruffly.

“No, not exactly,” said Arthur, seemingly taken aback. “We were just wondering how everything went, and what’s going on.”

“We have our mercenaries,” growled Harold. “And a bloody high price they want for the job. They had better do it right, or Sandrina’s head won’t be the only one I want. They are to be here first thing in the morning, and we will be leaving soon after that.” Silently, he added the words if all goes well. He had been unable to shake the earlier feeling that something was amiss, though he could see no basis for it. Harold continued, “Each of us will be bringing an extra mount in order to make better time. Be at the stables packed and ready to go by mid-morning. I don’t take kindly to waiting.” Arthur nodded, unperturbed. Samuel responded more slowly, but his answer too was in the affirmative.

“We will see you then,” said Arthur. With that both of them left the house. Harold climbed upstairs to his own bed and fell into a restless sleep.

~*~*~*~

The next morning dawned clear, despite the previous night’s ominous clouds. Harold arose with a groan and threw on some clothes suitable for travelling. Some dry bread was all he felt like eating for breakfast, and he bundled the rest of the food that would not spoil quickly into a bag to take along. He walked outside, expecting to see the mercenaries either waiting for him or riding up the road soon. Impatience rose within him as the minutes stretched on and they did not come. He had seen neither Sam nor Arthur yet, which also concerned and frustrated him. Does nobody but me understand how important this is...?

Harold was about to go round up his sons when he saw that a lone man was staggering up the road. He seemed to be exhausted. At that moment he picked up his head to look around. Harold could hear the relief in his voice when he called out, or tried to at any rate.

“Harold... thank Eru... I’ve gotten here... before... Sandrina...” With difficulty, the man was making his way up the slope towards Harold, and then Harold recognized him. It was Cerdic, the manager of the trading the estate did. He had been away to find out how much money people in other parts of Rohan were getting for their goods.

“Come up to the house, Cerdic, and tell me what you know, for it is clear you know something. You can have water and a place to sit as well,” said Harold. Cerdic nodded gratefully and followed him up to the house, still gasping for breath.

Once Cerdic had gotten his breath back up at the house, he began to speak. “I take it by the packed up state of the house you have received word of Sandrina?” Harold nodded, saying, “We had intended to leave this morning, as soon as the hired mercenaries arrived, but I have waited so long that we may well leave before they get here.” Cerdic continued, “I was in the same town as they were last night. Sandrina is gathering people to herself to come here and take the estate she claims as rightfully hers. She had intended to leave early this morning, and I fear they will be here soon. You see, I rode off as soon as I heard an adequate amount of their plans. I rode with speed through the night, but sometime around midnight my horse went lame and I was forced to leave him behind. I pressed on as hard as I could on foot, but I believe that it was slow enough that Sandrina will have made up a great deal of ground on me. If you want to leave before they get here, you must go soon.”

“Thank you, Cerdic,” said Harold. “Your news is appreciated, though it tells me little more than how little time I have. I had bargained on a couple days, at least. You may go now; you will want to get some rest, I imagine. If they should ask you, you know absolutely nothing about what is happening here. Say we left this morning without a word.” Cerdic nodded, and left. Harold sighed, rubbing his temples. Cerdic was one of the few people he felt he could trust. They had grown up together, as his parents had worked for Harold’s. He had no time to waste, now. He hurried outside to each of his sons’ houses.

“Hurry up, you lazy slowpoke! We are leaving in ten minutes! Get your brother too!” he yelled at Arthur’s door. “I’ll have your horses ready.”

With that Harold departed to the stables, retrieving each of the six horses he had selected last night. Three of them he saddled up to be ridden, saddlebags over their hindquarters. The other three wore only halters. They would switch off so that there were always fresh horses to ride. Within a few minutes Arthur and Samuel appeared, each dressed like himself for travelling on horseback. Harold almost expected Samuel to give one last argument, but he didn’t, much to Harold’s relief. He could not afford the time. They mounted up.

“We ride!” said Harold, and they were off, heeling their horses into a ground-eating canter.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina nodded in response. The time to leave was now. They had stayed too long in this Inn. Her cousin's men would undoubtedly be searching for them and this would probably be the first place that they looked.

"Let's go, before more danger arises," Sandrina stated.

The company walked outside in the brisk morning air, still dark from the lingers of night. Sandrina thanked one of the men that handed her the reigns of a horse. She jumped on and took a deep breath. This was the start of her rightful justice against them. Them that had created such hell for her in the last nine months.

Hama led the way, heading towards the Lightheart Estate. They travelled in silence through Rohan until they reached the golden fields and a large home and stables.

"Welcome home, Sandrina Lightheart," Hama whispered back at her. She gasped at the sight. It was just like the others, except it felt so.... so familiar. Memories flashed in her mind. Memories of her parents and all the happiness that was this house.

"Thank you, but I will not accept that I am fully home until my cousins and their father are brought to justice."

[Himaran]

As soon as the Lightheart Estate came into view, Raen's instincts began to kick in. Everything was wrong. They had rushed to the home without a plan for taking it back, or infiltrating it. He had to have a word with Hama. Urging his steed forward, the ranger came to a stop next to the man, sitting proudly in his saddle next to Sandrina. "Hama, what about her cousins? Doubtlessly they will have men hired to stop us."

"They have all cleared out, I am sure. Come, it is time to give back to Sandrina what is rightfully hers."

Not at the expense of her life!

Ignoring the man, Raen turned to Sandrina. "My lady, we must approach your home carefully. There may be guards, well-positioned and equiped. I do not wish for us all to be slaughtered." Which will probably happ if we waltz right up and knock on the front door! He waited for her to respond, hoping that his reasoning would be understandable.

[Crystal Heart]

Hama glared at Raen, shocked that he would go around him and straight to Sandrina. He had no idea who she was! What made him think that he could just, just... His anger bubbled up inside him, causing all thought to fly from his head. He watched as Sandrina looked farway in thought and wondered just what dilema was going on in her head. She of all people did not deserve to have to deal with this. She had been used as a pawn in her extended family's game. She had wandered around for nine months, not truly knowing her own name or where she was from. All of her memories had vanished when they had beaten her and now here she was being told that they could be slaughtered. What horrible thought could Raen have believed in? It was clear the woman had gone through enough trauma. She did not need to know that there was the possibility that she was having all of these people go forward to their death. His hands clenched angrily as he continued to watch Sandrina's face.



Sandrina had not thought about the fact that there could be a possibility that these people would die during this quest. That she would be asking them to give up their lives for justice. For her. The thought had not crossed her mind. Then again she had been trying vainly to recover all of her memories. She had thought that whatever memories she could retain would be of some use to them and had overlooked the threat on these kind people's lives.

"You are right Raen and I apologize for not thinking about it," Sandrina said, bowing her head slightly in shame.

Hama jolted his horse forward, in between Raen and Sandrina.

"She should not have to be sorry in any way. What are you doing Raen?" Hama hissed, his eyes narrowing. Sandrina placed a hand upon his forearm, trying to get his attention away.

"Please do not fight each other. We need to be a group. Undoubtedly they will be. If they find a faction within us they will destroy us. You will stop this right now Hama!" Sandrina commanded, rising up to her full height upon her mare. Hama looked over at her in shock.

"If you can not handle your emotions, Hama then you should not be in our quest. Can you handle yourself sir?" Sandrina asked sharply, narrowing her own eyes. Hama looked down and away, his cheeks flushing in embarssement. He took a deep, ragged breath and looked her straight in the eye once more.

"Yes, Sandrina Lightheart I can handle myself. Do whatever you feel is correct."

[Morsul the Dark]

Sam was tired, his will broken his body ached, grief clouded his mind. Sam looked ahead at his brother and father. If he were to say anything his father would not let him hear the end of it, but if he didn't say anything his conscience would drive him mad. There was nothing to do but act as their shadow, silently follow them. Like a shadow, yes that was the answer. "Shadows are invisible at night what if I return to the estate and tell our whereabouts to Sandrina and the others?" He whispered very quietly.

Harold looked back at him, "What are you mumbling about now? You know thisa is the only way." Harold drew back level with Sam and gave him a fatherly pat on the back, "Sorry about your guilt, but you know I'm right..." He sped forward past Arthur.

Sam looked up, "You may think it is the only way, I myself have other plans." Sam took out his pipe but as he did his horse hit a rock and fell breaking its knee. "Blast!" Sam cried.

Harold and Arthur looked back Harold had turned an odd toned red and Arthur sat silent. "You fool your a waste of time and money I should have left you behind where you would cause no more trouble get your other horse and ride it will have to bear the extra burden!" Harold yelled scaring a flock of birds from a nearby tree.

Sam threw off all his baggage except two loaves of bread and a cantene of water. "That should lighten your load." Then he looked at his other horse and began to tend to its knee.

"We don't have time for nonsense leave it to die!" Harold shrieked.

"Then ride on without me! I will not let Wisetail die!" Sam cried tears of anger streaming down his face. His horse's knee had broken before so he knew it would take a few weeks before he could walk again with this in mind he began to gather grass and other vegetation that he could eat and dug a hole that would with luck fill with water when it rained. He washed the wound and bound it with an extra shirt. "FRare well wise tail and when you mend may you find your way home. Harold and Arthur had gone ahead so Sam scribbled out a note outlining their plans and tied it to wisetail's mane. "May Eru watch over you." he gave wise tail a pat on the head then mounted the secondsteed and rode off. He finally caught to Arthur and Harold. There was silence for quite some time after that.

[Himaran]

Raen was so taken aback by Hama's remarks that he slackened the pace of his horse to a near stop; with Sandrina's rebuke of the man still ringing in his ears. For a brief moment resentment flashed through him. Who was Hama to speak with such scorn? He had not spent months in the wilderness searching for the woman, but acted as though Raen should have nothing to do with her. Was it... anxiety? Jealousy? Or perhaps overprotectiveness... but whatever the cause, the ranger was not about to let it lead them to their deaths, and he tried to view his quick conversation with Sandrina as a success.

He quickly turned to Braedon. "We should approach on foot. It will be far less noticeable. Who knows what is waiting down there." The ranger nodded, and they both trotted their horses back down the path and dismounted, tying the halters to a tree. Raen readied his bow, pulling a shaft from his quiver and setting it on the string. The pair moved back up the hill to where the others remained on their horses, conversing.

"We're going to scout ahead," said Raen, which drew a nod of thanks from Sandrina and no response from Hama. Pushing the frustration from his mind, he followed Braedon down the hill in a crouch. Quickly reaching a band of trees, they spread apart and checked for sentries; bowstrings taunt. No one was in sight outside the estate. But it was sound, not sight, that brought the rangers the information they needed.

In the distance, a horse neighed, as if in pain. An angry voice was heard also, and then another. An argument among the enemy, most likely. "Run back and get the others," Raen whispered to Braedon. "We can approach unseen from this angle, and the trees extend almost to the far wall." The man was already on his way back up the hill before the sentence was complete.

Raen turned back, wondering if the enemy he so desired to meet was slipping right through his fingers.

[starkat]

As they had approached the estate, Anora had grown more determined to make certain that Sandrina remained unharmed. Feeling for the blade at her side had become an instinctive movement for Anora on their journey.

She had stayed close to Sandrina, but had remained quiet. Her time had not yet come. She watched as Hama and Raen had begun arguing. I hope they figure this out. The whole point of this mission is to reunite Sandrina with her parents.

Raen and Braedon rode off to scout ahead and Anora walked her horse in front of Sandrina. Her friend looked at her in confusion for a moment and then nodded. Anora breathed a sigh of relief. I am glad that did not come across as being heavy handed. I just want to protect her.

Her hand rested on the hilt of her blade. Suddenly Anora caught the faint sounds of someone coming towards them. She pulled her sword from it's sheath and Hama did the same. When Braedon came out of the trees everyone waited for him to explain.

[The Perky Ent]

Arthur hated watching his father yell at Samuel, but he dared not interject. After his blunder with Sandrina, Arthur would make to more mistakes, or his fathers love would be as far away as Melkor from the Secret Fire. Leaving the estate was hard for Arthur as well, but, for now, he would ride it out. But if the mercinaries failed and their land was lost, Arthur didn't know what he would do. Even though it shouldn't have been their land, Arthur felt no remorse to it all. To him, it had always been theirs, and Henry had been keeping them from destiny.

As Samuel pased out of sight, it was just Harold and Arthur riding into the horizon. Looking around, and seeing nothing, Arthur couldn't help but ask, "Father, where are we going? Not to Edoras? That's too far. And how will we know when the men we hired have done their job? What if it's too late? If Sandrina and Henry come back and seize out lands, they will be able to find some precious information. We shouldn't linger long. Where are we going?"

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina glanced up, her eyes widening at the sound. She relaxed only slightly when she saw Raen come up, but his expression of stress and fear were easy to recognize in his face. She knew what he had heard. She knew what she had heard. It was them.

She looked around at the group, her heart racing. This was the moment of justice in her mind, but a cold fear grabbed her.

"Is that noise them?" Sandrina whispered, hoping deep down that it was not. Raen nodded his head in response. She took a jagged deep breath and let it go slowly. She licked her lips nervously, trying to clear away the shakiness that she was feeling deep down inside her stomach.

"Then we must bring them to justice. How do you suggest we do that, Raen?" Sandrina whispered, edging her horse closer to him. She prayed that he had a plan for she did not and had not thought to even construct one. The only thought that had been racing through her mind was to bring them to justice and return to her family. She had not thought of how and now that the moment had risen to do it she was as scared as a rabbit. She only hoped that he or Hama or anyone for that matter had had enough insight to create a plan during their short journey to the Lightheart estate.

[Firefoot]

Harold shifted uncomfortably but disguised it by craning around to see what Samuel was doing. He shook his head in disgust; the fool boy was dumping out most of his supplies and tending for the horse. What had he called it? Wise-tail? Harold sneered. Such a foolish, weak name, fitting since it was given by a foolish, weak son. Did the boy not know that a horse with a broken leg was as good as dead? He did not seem likely to be catching up any time soon, so Harold turned back to Arthur and his questions.

“Going? We are not really going anywhere. As you have mentioned, Edoras is entirely too far away, and any of the nearby towns are too small; Sandrina and Henry would catch word of us immediately. Rather, we will circle around the estate and return to it in a week or so. This way we will be able to see for our own eyes what is going on there. We cannot just abandon the estates at any rate, because once Sandrina is dead there will be no one left to run it.” Harold was mostly improvising as he went here. He had not planned much of this out in advance. “As for them discovering important information, there is not much for them to discover save by questioning the workers, and none of them know very much that could be useful. My men will be too afraid of what I would do to them for speaking up, and they do not know much that Sandrina and her new friends will not have figured out already. The only one that might have useful information is Cerdic, and he is too loyal to do such a thing. All the important documents and papers I brought along in my saddlebags for such a reason. Does this answer your questions?” Arthur nodded, though Harold wasn’t sure whether he meant it or not. Frankly, Harold did not care whether Arthur accepted the answers, because it was the best that he would get.

Harold glanced back again. Samuel was still tending to the horse, and Harold judged that he had a few minutes before Samuel would catch up. He turned once more to Arthur.

“What do you think about Samuel? Will he stay loyal to us, or will he try to aid Sandrina?” he asked. Harold thought he understood Samuel’s position fairly well, but as his brother Arthur might have some different ideas on it. It would also give Harold a chance to see where Arthur stood. Arthur looked distinctly uncomfortable, and hesitated before speaking.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure-” he began, and was cut off by the sound of hooves behind. Harold spoke softly so as not to be overheard by Samuel. “Well, think about it and you can tell me your thoughts later, when we have a moment together.” Arthur nodded again. Samuel caught up, and they rode on in silence, each one alone with his own thoughts. For himself, Harold was spending his time trying to figure out what Sandrina would do upon reaching the estate. Cerdic had said she was gathering a small force to herself, so Harold supposed that meant between five and ten men. The idea that she might bring women did not even occur to him. It was the men that concerned him more than Sandrina, that and he did not know where Henry was in all of this. Leaving Henry out of his calculations would be a dire mistake. So his thoughts went, until the sun was high overhead and it was nearly time to stop for a break and lunch.

[Himaran]

Raen could see the desperation in Sandrina's eyes, and felt Hama's keen stare pierce through him. Braedon and the others stood by, waiting for a reply. Yes, of course you have a plan. Tell them! He decided to use the safest of his several ideas. "We cannot go after them untill your home is cleared. There is a band of trees that runs from the top of this hill down to the estate's wall, by the stables. We can approach behind it, unseen. Doubtlessly there are enemies, waiting for us to enter. Perhaps some of us should go through the gate, while others scale the wall."

"At any rate, let's get down this hill," said Braedon. "On foot, though." The others tied their horses to nearby trees and followed the rangers, weapons at ready. But Raen was already worrying greatly. This is a fool's plan. Archers could pick us off easily. But as the group headed towards the outer wall, under the cover of the trees, no shafts harrassed them. It was as if the residents had merely... left, without a rearguard of sorts. Such a situation was almost too good to hope for, Raen mused.

They stopped at the wall. Knowing that the gate was around the corner, Raen hesitated to give any further orders. It was Sandrina's decision, yet she looked to him for answers. Decided to take charge, he whispered to Hama. "Take Sandrina and the others up to the gates. Wait there; Braedon and I will climb this wall and have a look around."

Raen clambered up, and promptly helped Braedon over. They jumped down onto the grass and looked around. "There's someone here," murmured Braedon, and his companion merely nodded. But where...

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama was furious at being told what to do by this ranger. He was a member of the Rohan royal guard of King Eomer himself, not some lowly peasant incapable of tactical thought. He was about to voice this, when he noticed that Raen and Braedon had already gone and he cursed loudly under his breath. Sandrina looked at him disapprovingly, but soon shook her head. "We should get to the gates, in that case." Hama said clearly, trying and failing not to lte his irritation shine through his voice. Drawing his sword he loped round the walls, the others close behind him. His armour clanked as he ran, and he muttered. Surely now they'd know of their presence.

They reached the gates in just under five minutes. Raen and Braedon were already there, and looking ver disconcerted about something. "What kept you?" Raen put to Hama. "Oh, there was the small matter of a raiding party of dunlendings, a few orcs and the desire for a few less pompous rangers." Hama said sarcastically. Raen's brow creased as he heard the last words, "There is someone round here, we just don't know where. Get in here and help us...we don't know who they are or what sort of weapons they have, it could be dangerous." Hama's mouth contorted to a slit as he tried to supress his frustration. Of course it was going to be bloody dangerous, stupid bloody rangers thinking they know everything.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina couldn't believe how incredibly rude Hama was being, especially during a time of great danger. She placed a small hand upon his forearm and turned him to her. Her eyes were filled with seriousness and she shook her head.

"Just stop it Hama. You may not like others, but that does not give you the right to endanger our lives by being sarcastic. Please, just get along with Raen. We are in a place of high danger and must be on alert. So I beg you, please Hama stop. Not for everyone else, but for me. My life hangs in the balance. Your actions are not helping me," Sandrina whispered forcefully.

She let go of his forearm and stepped over to Raen.

"What do we do if they are surrounding us, Raen?" She asked, trying not to look over at Hama. She could feel him staring, could feel his eyes staring into the back of her head. She had no idea what his problem was, but once they were semi safe again she would ask and find out. Otherwise she knew that she would have to send him. She hoped that she would not have to do that.

[The Perky Ent]

Arthur was bored out of his wits. He had no idea what he was doing there. He could sense that whatever was suppost to work, didn't work. Time felt like riding a horse with concrete feet. Thinking of nothing to pass the time, Arthur began to speak:


We were so weak and febel,
but now, we're rich and regal.
We booted out my stupid old uncle
he was just a stupid bile of junk...el...

Samuel began to laugh. Seeing his brother try someting that obviously wasn't his forte was amusing. Stopping to give Arthur confidence, he continued

So now we ride, away from home
and through the wilderness we now must comb
for until we're safe, together we must roam.
So soon we'll return,
though I don't know to what effect.
And who knows? Maybe, our homes won't be beref...t

Samuel gave a small appaluse, but Harold just shook his head and sighed, and he lead the way into the distance.

[Firefoot]

Harold sighed at Arthur’s attempts to turn recent events into verse. Whatever his elder son might be, a poet was not one of them. He tried to block out the sound, and concentrated instead on how far they had gotten thus far. He estimated they had been travelling for about seven hours, since the sun showed the time to be mid-afternoon. Seven hours... two or three leagues per hour... makes about 18 leagues. That sounded right. It also meant they were almost sufficiently far away from the estates to start circling back around. He began to turn around to tell his sons this when he became aware of another sound, previously unheard because of Arthur’s pathetic attempts to rhyme: hoofbeats. He could not see the riders yet, as they were still a good way off and the land was not flat, but they were coming closer. Harold did not want to be seen. Under normal circumstances they would not draw attention, but rumors of Sandrina’s return would have reached other ears, and the three of them heading away from the estate... No, he did not want to be seen.

“Hurry, follow me!” Harold hissed, cutting Arthur’s words short. Harold heeled his horse into a full gallop and turned sharply off the road. There was a downward slope in the land only a few hundred yards away; if they could get that far, then they would not be seen. They drew nearer, but so did the hoofbeats. Harold did not dare turn around to see if the riders were visible yet. Then, he had reached it. He slowed his horse so that it could get down, and saw that Samuel and Arthur, who had been only a little way behind him, were doing the same. The slope was just deep enough for them to be unseen from the road. Harold crept back up the slope to see whether they had been spotted or not.

What he saw made him worry. There were three of them, and they had slowed to a walk approximately parallel to the road. One of them was pointing in their direction and scowling; the other two were shaking their heads and their reins as if impatient to be moving on. Harold knew they had been spotted. Now what? He sighed in relief when the riders again booted their horses into a faster pace. Apparently they had somewhere to be in a hurry, and it was lucky for them. All he could do was hope they would not remember seeing the three of them. There was nothing more to be done for it, so he returned back down to where his sons and the horses were waiting.

“We were not seen,” he lied. “There were three of them, and they just went right on past.” He wondered if they believed him or not. Somehow he doubted it, but they couldn’t prove otherwise.

“As long as we have left the road, we may as well continue. We are far enough away from the estates to start circling back around. Within a few days we will return there to see what has happened. If Sandrina is dead as she should already be, we will have no more need of plans. If not, we will decide what to do then.” What he really meant was that he would decide and they would listen, but he wasn’t about to say that. He mounted his horse again and headed off across the country.

[starkat]

Anora had fallen a little behind the rest of the company. She looked around at their surroundings and just as Sandrina spoke to Hama the sound of rustling leaves became apparent.

The young woman looked in the direction of the sound and could not see anything. Anora, her sword in one hand, caught up to the others just as Raen replied to Sandrina's question. "I heard something."

[Himaran]

Raen stopped and listened, attempting to ignore Sandrina's harsh words to Hama. "I hear something," state Anora. Of course you do! There could be twenty or more mercenaries waiting for us at this very moment! He decided to stick with the original plan, sounds or not. This was no time to be indecisive, or the company might fall toghether in minutes. For Sandrina's sake, he would not allow that to happen.

"We are entering just as planned. Braedon, Hama and I will scale the wall again, and the rest of you enter through the gate. Wait for the signal." He was frustrated at how naive most of them were to such simple tactics. If we ever face a greater force... Banishing such thoughts from his mind, Raen hurried along the wall, followed by his two companions. Braedon helped him onto the walll - nothing had changed, no sign of movement. Hama refused help pulled himself over, jumping down onto the ground below. Oh well, at least he can fend for himself.

Once inside the courtyard, they spread out. Hama looked around the stables, and was soon preoccupied. Braen checked a storage shed, finding nothing. Raen slowly moved towards the house itself, watching for any signs of life behind the chrystal window panes. Is that... Then an arrow hurtled by, a victim of poor marksmanship. The ranger dove over to his right, lifted his fingers to his mouth and gave a piercing whistle; the signal for the others to attack. He saw a man (who dropped a bow and drew his sword) start running towards him, thought surely there will be others. The battle for Sandrina's home had begun.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina's blood pulsed through her at the prospect of battle. She unshethed her sword and looked back at the group.

"Let's go!" She called, running forward through the gate. They followed her, weapons at the ready. They entered the scene and found Hama and Raen fighting with all their might against, a quick count from Sandrina, eight. She took a deep breath and ran forward, bringing the raging enemy away from the two men.

"IT'S ME YOU WANT! COME AND GET ME!" Sandrina screamed, yelling for all to hear. She pushed forward, slashing and dodging. The biggest, most burly man that she had ever seen stood before her, his eyes blazing with fury. Sandrina smirked.

"You, I'm going to kill you for the reward!" He spat, taking a swing to her left. Sandrina countered, their blades smashing together with a great clang.

"That's what you think," Sandrina said, plunging forward. Her sword fell through his defenses and through his ribs. Sandrina swallowed hard, but pushed deeper. The man's eyes widened and he fell to the ground backwards. Sandrina put a foot upon his chest and pulled her sword free. She wiped around to look at the others.

"Anyone else want to try?" Sandrina taunted. Two men at once, from both sides, ran straight for her as if wanting to impale her. She dodged forward and backwards. She ran like a rabbit from a fox. Her eyes were filled with something that hadn't been there in a very long time, confidence. She weilded the sword as if she had been doing it her entire life. Her body remembered every movement that her father had taught her years prior. Memories of the lessons flooded her mind.

"You fight like your father!" One man yelled out in disgust. She laughed hauntily.

"Of course. He was the one that taught me!" She slashed at the man's shins, dodging towards the safety of the group that were fighting the others.

As she ran she slipped upon the grass. She hurried to get up, but the man caught her arm and twisted her in front of him. He held his sword high in the air, above of her head.

"Now you'll die like you should have you no good brat," he said, his eyes laughing happily. He bent back her wrist and her sword fell to the ground. Fear washed over her, replacing the adrenile rush that had had a hold of her. Then, words from the past snapped into her mind like lightening. She smiled and kicked her heel into his most sensitive area. She watched as he fell to the ground. She hurried and grabbed her sword. She swung with her eyes closed and heard the plop of the man's head to the ground. She shook away her thoughts and turned away, running to the others.

[Firefoot]

As he rode along without much to think about, Arthur’s earlier question came to Harold’s mind: Where are we going? The truth was, he was not comfortable with the answer he had given, that they would decide what to do when they got there. By then it might be too late to do what needed to be done. The foreboding feeling from earlier had returned, and though Harold was not one to go on nothing but intuition, these were special circumstances. Somehow he just knew everything was not going as planned, that Sandrina would not be killed by those he had left at the estates. It was not very comforting, but it gave him time to make plans. What he needed was an advantage.

He needed to get to Sandrina, make her feel fear. But what kind of threat would have the desired affect on her? Harold backed up to Sandrina at the estates. What would her next move be? Harold didn’t think she would just settle down at the estate and leave everything be; she would need more help than just the rag-tag following she had. She would need... Henry. Of course! How could he have forgotten? Something would need to be done about that - Sandrina could not be allowed to access her parents. It would create all kinds of problems. Harold knew that he would be at least two steps ahead of Sandrina here. Not only had he decided what she would try to do before she even knew, but he also knew the whereabouts of Henry and Eowyn, something that Sandrina probably didn’t.

Now how to accomplish this. The only way to be sure that Sandrina and her parents did not have contact would be to have either one or both under constant surveillance, and do it quickly. He knew that Henry and Eowyn’s new cottage was a couple days’ hard ride from where they were. Something should be done sooner. Sandrina could have done any number of things in a few days. She needed to be stopped, perhaps by some kind of threat. A threat of pain, yes, that would work. No woman could withstand much pain, weak creatures that they were. Or perhaps pain to her parents. The corners of Harold’s mouth turned upward in a small evil smile. If Sandrina continued to try to reach her parents, she would be made to watch their deaths, and then die herself. She would die anyway, but for her to watch Henry and Eowyn die... Harold couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

So once Sandrina was threatened, he would need to go after Henry and Eowyn. A threat was no good unless it could be backed. They could be... kid-napped. Harold was feeling quite pleased at his own cunning. A great deal better than anything his incompetent sons could come up with, and certainly Sandrina would not be able to figure out the complexities of the plan. In fact, the only way Harold could see that his plot might go wrong would be by Sandrina’s foolishness. Sometimes he wished women were just a little bit smarter; it would make plans like this more foolhardy. It would have to do, though.

Harold pulled his horse up and motioned for Arthur and Samuel to do the same. Harold quickly outlined his change of plans to them. Arthur seemed satisfied; Samuel, on the other hand, looked sick. Harold scowled. Samuel had better buck up soon; it was another way the plan might go wrong, if Samuel were to duck out and go to Sandrina. Harold knew too well that exceeding mercy was one of womenkind’s worst faults.

Harold took this opportunity to switch mounts, as he had been riding the same one since the morning. Arthur did the same. When he was remounted, Harold said to them, “We need to return to the Lightheart Estate with all possible speed. The sooner this gets done, the better.” The fresh mount was only too ready to go, and Harold let it go as fast as he dared. It was several leagues back to the estate, and they would not reach it until the next morning. Harold soon fell back into the monotony of the rolling plains of the Riddermark and the sound of hoofbeats in his ears. He was heated from the inside from the fire of desire for revenge, stoked up by his new foolproof scheme.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama saw Sandrina kill the man, but he was too well conditioned to flinch as he saw the headless body slump to the floor. He heard footsteps behind him a fraction too late as a sword swung into his armour, knocking him off balance. Regaining his footing he turned to see a familiar face. "John" he said, stepping forward and thrusting, which was parried. "Hama, I knew you'd be here, always the Lightheart's loyal dog." this time the mercenary slashed, and Hama parried and darted forward, ramming his sword into the mercenary's chest up to the hilt, it burst through his back in a shower of blood. "Better a loyal dog than a dead one." he spat into the man's face, letting him slide off his sword to the ground.

Hama heard a cry...Sandrina! He looked round and saw a man holding her round the waist in an attempt to keep her still for another man to kill her. Hama cried out as he ran towards them. The man holding Sandrina looked round and saw Hama, Hama saw his eyebrows raise in fear as he hurled his sword. It sliced the shoulder of Sandrina's shirt as it spun, pushing through the man's neck. He fell, desperately clutching the sword as he tried to pull it out. Sandrina screamed as blood spurted onto her clothes and ran towards the second man just as Hama fired, the arrow ripped the other shoulder of her shirt before thudding into the mercenary's chest. As he sank to the ground, Hama ran up to Sandrina. "Sandrina...you're good, but not strong. Do not take on men twice your size, or you will end up dead."

[starkat]

The battle had begun. Anora had crossed swords with one of the mercenaries and Was trying to disarm him. The man was taller and heftier than she had fought before, so she was having trouble. Suddenly she tripped and just as the man was about to kill her an arrow knocked him backwards.

Anora caught a glimpse of Hama and nodded her thanks. She ran over beside him and Sandrina and the three of them stood together.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina shook in fear. Only moments prior she had been in the grasp of two men, bothing asking each other would would be able to get to do what they wanted with her first before killing her. Hama had saved her. If he had not she would have been dead.

Her split sleves hung down and flapped in the small breeze. She ripped them off and threw them to the ground. She grabbed Hama's hand and pulled him away from the battle. Her chest heaved, trying to pull more air into her frightened lungs.

"Hama," Sandrina gasped as she ran, "There is no way that we can stay here. There are too many. I, I've grown too tired to fight. I can barely weild my sword. If you do not stay with me, then I fear that I shall die before my time."

Sandrina tripped upon the ground, nearly falling completely face first into the grass. Her legs shook violently and she knew that she could not carry on. She had already killed, three men, or something like that. She could no longer recall. She had seen too much death and blood and she had pushed herself past her own limits. She had drained herself.

She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled his face closer to her.

"Leave me. Save the others. Their lives are more important," Sandrina pleaded. Her eyes shimmered with tears that she tried to hold onto. She swallowed hard against her words. More memories that she had lost came swarming into her mind. Memories of a long forgotten love for the man before her. She had forgotten, but her heart had not. It explained what she had been feeling deep inside since she met him.

She wanted him to save himself. She did not want to see him die here. His life, above all others, was more important to her then anything else in the world. She closed her eyes and kissed him softly before pushing him forward.

"Go. Please. I beg you."

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama looked at Sandrina, he saw the tears flowing down her cheeks. He smiled the first real smile she'd seen form him as a tear escaped the corner of his eye momentarily before he blinked it away. "No, Sandrina. I swore that I would protect you, you are the most important thing here right now. I cannot let you just die here. There are only one or two left now, we WILL come through this." Sandrina looked up at him from the ground and her brow creased as she tried to stop more tears. "You are so unlike how I remember you, Sandrina." Hama smiled, "The girl I knew before was not the sort who could kill a man, even if he attacked her." Sandrina gulped, "I still can't." she sobbed, "I still can't kill heartlessly, I'm no soldier, Hama."

"Drop your sword!" Came a voice from behind. Hama felt cold steel against the back of his enck and lamented his misfortune. He stood slowly up, throwing his sword a few feet away before moving with the sword of the mercenary. He stopped, and Hama heard the swish of the sword and squeezed his eyes shut. He screamed in pain as it sliced deep into his lower back and he fell to the floor in a spray of blood. The nmercenary looked pleased with himself and moved over to Sandrina. Hama looked through his hazy eyes to see him clamber on top of her. "Well Missy, looks like your little quest has failed." he said heartlessly as he began to unbuckle his leggings. "Not if..." Hama crawled up and rose to his feet, pushing his regained sword through the mercenary's shoulder, Sandrina screamed again as the point pushed through and cut her slightly, and as the man coughed blood onto her chest. Hama rolled the mercenay off Sandrina with his foot. *I can help it..." he finished his sentence, before swooning and falling onto his back.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina picked up Hama's sword and chopped the man until she was sure that he was dead. Then she dropped to her knees where he had fallen. She placed a hand upon his face. It was still warm and he was breathing.

"Hama!!" Sandrina screamed in terror, hoping that he would wake to the sound of her voice. He didn't move. She shook him violently. Yet he didn't move. She fell upon his chest, sobbing. Totally unable to move away from him. She could hear his heart beat and his strong breathing, but she was so afraid that if she moved that he would die.

She finally raised herself up off of him and pulled him over. The gash in his lower back was deep and bleeding. She grabbed her sleves and tied them together and tied it around him the best that she could, ripping more of her shirt to stop the bleeding. She looked up.

"RAEN. ANORA, ANYONE!! HELP!!!!!!!!" Sandrina screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping that they would hear her in time.

[starkat]

Anora had only been a couple of steps away from Hama and Sandrina when Hama had been wounded. The man she was currently fighting was more than the sword maiden could handle, but suddenly the mercenary slipped. Anora's blade came down and she took off towards Sandrina. The remainder of the mercenaries were facing the remainder of their group.

"What happened?"

"Hama got stabbed protecting me." Sandrina choked out. "He is still breathing."

Anora took no time in checking Hama's pulse and tearing her own cloak to add to the padding that Sandrina had already done. I hope the rangers can help him more than I can. They must know more about the herbs that we need. Sandrina's sobs drew her attention.

"Sandrina, we are doing everything we can. Raen and the others will probably know more than I do to help him." Anora looked in the direction that she had last seen the rangers. Just as she spotted them, the last of the mercenaries were taken down.

Anora called out to them. "Raen, Braedon! Hama needs help. Where is Haven?"

[Arien]

Braedon swung his sword against his attackers, the sharp vibrations flowed through his arms. This was no use, his chosen opponent apparently wielded a sword well. Well enough at least for Braedon to start to feel that this fight was getting a little monotonous. Suddenly the man swung again, this time quicker than before. He slashed across Braedon’s arm. He dropped his sword to the ground and fell on his knees. His attacker laughed.

“Tired Ranger? I thought I would at least have a match in you! Ha, weak!” He mocked as he raised his sword above his head, ready to drive it down on to Braedon’s body. He was big, a good few inches bigger that Braedon, almost dwarfing him and from down on the ground he had to admit this man held the advantage on size and power. But he was slow. So, he would have to be quick, he had already slid his knife out of his boot whilst the man before him was preoccupied with ridiculing him. He look up, the man smiling once more. Braedon smiled back.

This probably threw the man off, Braedon didn’t know, he didn’t linger to find out. He threw his knife in the direction of the man midriff, hoping. It was a blind an careless shot, he knew that, but it had to work. Luckily, the knife managed to puncture the area where there was no armour. Braedon grabbed his sword and slid though the mans legs, quickly getting up. He took no time in plunging his sword through his opponents back, he watched him fall to the floor as he drew his sword out. Coming around the side he kicked him over and retrieved his knife.

He moved his hand to his bleeding arm, excellent, now he had two injuries.

"Raen, Braedon! Hama needs help. Where is Haven?"

His head shot round to where Anora’s voice had called from. There! He ran over, sheathing his knife as he went.

“What happened?” Braedon asked, checking Hama’s wound. Thick, red blood slowly flowed out of the wound.

“Stabbed, protecting me, “ Sandrina said shortly. A tear flowed down her cheek, but it was quickly rubbed away.

Braedon took his off his small pack and laid it on the floor. He opened it and frowned.

“We need to seal…”

“Braedon!” shouted Sandrina, pointing behind him. Braedon felt a heavy hand knock him to the side, his eyes were blurred a little but he managed to see the mercenary making his way towards Sandrin, Anora and the fallen Hama. He searched for his sword, but that had been knocked away from him, he grabbed his knife and slowly stood up, watching the man in front of him gradually getting closer to them. He ran forwards slicing his knife across the mans neck . The man fell instantly to the floor, and lay motionless. Braedon moved him aside and bent down to tend to Hama again.

“We need to seal this wound, but what I have will not do it. I will have to burn it. Sandrina, you need to keep talking to him.” She nodded and sat down next to him quietly whispering to her fallen friend.

Braedon felt the wound, nothing serious was injured. He was ok, provided he didn’t lose any more blood and the wound was not infected. Which meant he would have to seal it as soon as possible. “Anora I need a fire.” She nodded and set to work. Braedon pulled out a bottle from his bag, and pulled off the cork. He spread the liquid around the wound and in it.

“Hama, if you can hear me this will numb the pain, and the burn a little. But I cannot guarantee you will feel nothing.”

“It is lit,” said Anora. Braedon nodded and the cursed. He had nothing but his knife to use, he handed it to Anora and instructed her what to do.

She was soon back, the knife held at arms length. She handed it to Braedon, he could feel the heat coming from it. He would have to move quickly. He traced it along the wound, the smell of burnt flesh filled the air around the four. Hama was now awake. His face was pale and his eyes full of pain.

“Ok, it is done.” Braedon tossed his knife to the ground and examined the wound. It was seal, and the bleeding had stooped. But it still looked terrible, and it would hurt immensely for the first few days. Losing a good fighter now was not the best thing to happen. Braedon applied a herb lotion on the wound. “He should be ok now.”

[The Perky Ent]

As Arthur moved throughout the world, he started looking at it without cause. He started to seperate what he thought, from what was logical. It soon became clear to him that this had no cause. His brother just might have been right all along. He was going to die. The question was, weather he'd go along with it. Once he took aside the prejudice of it all, he knew what he'd have to do. He didn't know if it would result in the death of his father, brother, or himself. But one thing was certain. Someone would die. Although he followed his fathers commands, he could sense it wouldn't last long.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina nodded and looked around. She knew that her parents couldn't be here anymore. There was just no way that they would send people like these to get others. Her parents had never been like that.

"We need to leave the estate. We need to find my parents. Harold and his horrible sons must have them or something along those lines. Hama, can you make the journey?" Sandrina asked. Hama nodded slightly, the pain still in his eyes.

An arrow zoomed through the air and landed at Hama's feet. A piece of parchment was wrapped around it. Sandrina took it out of the ground and unrolled the paper.

"It reads: Sandrina you have no chance. We are going to your parents and we are going to kill them. Then we're going to kill you. I suggest you run away now," Sandrina read, swallowing hard. She looked up, her eyes filled with determination and a new emotion, hatred. Hatred for the traitors that lived within her family. Absolute traitors in every way.

Sandrina stood up and helped Hama to his feet. He leaned on her heavily, but she did not waver underneath his weight.

"We have to go now. Send out any word you can on our way into Rohan. This began as a battle. Now it is a war," Sandrina announced. She whistled for the horses. They came running instantly to her call. She helped Hama to his horse then jumped upon hers. She kicked the sides of her horse, which reared in response then sprang off in the direction of the city of Rohan.

[Firefoot]

Harold watched in satisfaction at the stricken look that came over Sandrina’s face as she read the message. He and his sons had made good time throughout the night and by the light of the early morning approached and hid on the very grounds of the estates. He himself had shot the arrow with the message tied to it. The message had been simple: death to her parents, and death to herself. Now he only had to see what her reaction would be. He was not quite close enough to make out Sandrina’s words to her companions, about half of which he had noted were in fact female, but he could see their actions.

He smiled evilly as Sandrina whistled for the horses the group was using. His smile faded to a frown when he realized the direction she intended to take, however. She did not flee as he had expected; rather she headed her horse deeper into Rohan. Her companions followed as soon as each was mounted, one of the men injured. She’s going after her parents, he realized. Another one of those female weaknesses - no thought to your own safety... Harold did some quick calculations. She would take the roads, because she would need to find out where her parents were living, and the only way to do that would be to go through towns. He, on the other hand, knew precisely where Henry and Eowyn made their abode. He and his sons would go cross-country, then, and come to the cabin ahead of Sandrina, where they would be waiting with a trap.

In case the Estates had not been left alone, he left silently from his hiding spot and motioned for Arthur and Samuel to do the same. If he had not been so enthused by his own devious plans he might have noticed how his sons were reacting to the situation. Samuel looked the same as always, reluctant and disgusted, which would not have surprised Harold, but Arthur’s feelings were changing to be closer to Samuel’s, which would have sparked Harold’s temper in a big way had he paid attention.

Harold did not pay attention, though, and so his sons were spared a tongue lashing. Harold checked on the horses, and saw that they looked fatigued, as well they should. He said, “We need fresh horses. We will have to trust that there are no people left at the estates, and if there are...” He gripped his sword handle. “They will die.” He spun on his heel, expecting his sons to follow. He made his way down the familiar trail to the stables, and found it abandoned. Smirking, he mused that Sandrina had left no thought whatsoever to the well-being of the estates.

“Hurry; we don’t have much time,” said Harold. “Get a horse, and return to where are supplies are.” For himself, he knew precisely the horse he wanted: a tall gray with a good build and strong hindquarters. The horse was at the far end of the stables, and turning a corner he nearly tripped. Seeing the cause, he mentally recoiled in disgust. It was the body of one of his men. Couldn’t do their job right, could they? You’d think they’d be able to get the best of a bunch of women and a few men. He really did have no time to waste, so he continued on with no thought to the corpse. He found the horse and led it back to their meeting location by a different route.

Arthur and Samuel came back about the same time he did, and began to saddle the new mounts. Ready to go, Harold issued another set of instructions. “Sandrina has gone after her parents. We need to beat her and her companions to Henry’s cabin, so we will be heading in a direct route there-” He gestured vaguely toward Henry’s house. “-and once we get there we will secure Henry and Eowyn and lay a trap for Sandrina. We will not kill Henry and Eowyn yet; for her trouble Sandrina will see them die.” Samuel looked outraged. Arthur schooled his expression to one of none. He thought Samuel would argue, and he even opened his mouth to do so, but no words came out. “Good,” said Harold evenly. “We are in agreement.” He mounted skillfully and set off at a trot into the knee-high grass of the plains. Leading the way, he thought he heard Arthur and Samuel talking quietly behind him, but Harold did not care. So long as they did his bidding, he gave little heed what they thought. And they would do his bidding, for his sons would not dare to do otherwise. Harold set his mind on their destination. Soon, very soon, his schemes would come to fruition, and an unhappy day that would be to those who dared to oppose him.

[Himaran]

Raen rode on in silence. He was worried about Hama; the man was acting resolute and strong in order to impress Sandrina - and no harm was done in that. However, it was obvious that he was badly injured - perhaps near death, in fact - and pretending to be tough and resiliant was not always a prudent path to take in such a situation. Adding to the discomfort of the ranger was the fact that he now felt conciencious around Sandrina; had spent the last quarter hour lavishing Hama with gratefulness for his bravery and sympathy for his injury. Why do you care? You are a ranger, and he is a man. It is his place, not yours, to be Sandrina's hero.

Raen pondored the last statement in his head for a while. Had it not been he that had gone in first to check things out? If they had followed Hama's advice, they might all be dead now. But because he was standing beside Sandrina, a man the ranger would have easily slaughtered turned Hama into her savior. And there is nothing wrong with that! He fought bravely, and saved her life, as did you... The last statement was true; there was no denying that. Then why did he still feel bitter resentment? As a ranger he had done great deeds before without getting recognition - merely floating away from whatever he had accomplished. That was his way, and the way of all his kin.

Now, Raen mused, it was time to allow Hama to lead the group. Frankly, the ranger was tired of giving direction to a man that clearly wished he had never been born, let alone entered this company. Besides, this is not my place. I should never have joined them, and risked my life for this snide man who struts about like a general, constantly reminding us of his time in the King's Royal Guard... Then something caught Raen's attention. Looking carefully at the ground, he was able to pick out partially erased hoof-marks. They had gone this way, that was certain. But the ranger was intent to keep the information to himself - after all, now it was Hama's perrogative to notice features such as this.

[starkat]

Anora was worried. She had watched as Sandrina paid attention to Hama. She also noticed that Raen seemed displeased. I hope this does not get out of hand. We do not need problems within our own ranks right now. The young woman was still watching Raen when she noticed him take a look at the ground.

Urging her horse up next to his, Anora looked down. She was not completely certain that those were tracks. I wonder why he did not say anything? Surely not because of Hama? I had better ask. "Raen, do you think that those are the tracks of the men headed for Sandrina's parents?"

[Firefoot]

When Harold saw a puff of smoke in the air, he knew they were getting close to Henry and Eowyn’s cabin. He motioned for his sons to draw in closer so that they could talk.

“I do not expect a lot of trouble from them,” he began. “We will go to the front door and get Henry to answer it. It would be well to have your swords drawn. I will take care of Henry; you two can go find Eowyn. Hold on a minute.” He rummaged in his saddlebags until he found what he was looking for: two long lengths of rope. One of them he tossed to Arthur, who caught it. “Tie her up, and make sure she does not have a knife on her person so they will not escape. Understand?” They nodded. “Come then.”

There was a tree nearby, and the three of them dismounted and tied their horses there. Harold led the way, marching boldly up to the front door. His sword was drawn, though it was more for show than anything else; he did not expect to use it. He knocked sharply, and in a short time it was opened.

“Brother,” said Harold. There was no affection in the name. He quickly moved so that the door could not be closed on him. He put the sword to Henry’s throat.

“What are you doing here?” asked Henry evenly, ignoring the cold blade at his throat.

“You haven’t heard then?” said Harold, feigning mild surprise. “Well, you will understand very soon, I assure you. So long as you cooperate, I will not have to use this sword. Yet.” To Arthur and Samuel, he said one word: “Go.” They understood, and pushed past Henry into the house.

Fury shown in Henry’s eyes. They were the same color as Harold’s; the brothers shared many facial features such as this. That was where the similarities ended, however. Henry was taller but less broad in shoulder, and where Harold tended to intimidate people he met, Henry was a very welcoming person to be around.

“Why are you here?” Henry asked through gritted teeth.

“All in good time, Henry. Now, if you will please turn around and put your hands behind your back...?” Keeping his eye on the sword in Harold’s hand, Henry did so. Had he done anything else, Harold would have been forced to use the sword. Harold took the rope in his left hand, and first looped it around Henry’s waist to keep him from going anywhere while Harold tied his hands, for Harold needed both hands to do the tying and would have to sheath his sword. Harold chatted amiably while he worked, saying: “Now I suppose you want to know my reasons? I will tell you. You see, if my fool sons had been more competent the first time around, Sandrina would already be dead-”

“It was you!” said Henry, rage easily evident in his voice. He had given a jerk at the ropes, but Harold already had it tied securely.

“Yes, it was me. It almost worked too: I got the estates and Lightheart business, after you moved out here, and everything seemed to be going fine. That is, until a few days ago when I got word that Sandrina was in fact alive and well, and had gathered to herself a band of allies.” (“Good for her,” murmured Henry.) “She is coming here even now, in attempts to save you from me. When she does, my sons and I will be waiting. Her companions can die, but she will be taken captive, even as yourselves. She will see you die as part of her punishment for causing so much trouble, and then she will die.”

“I think Sandrina will prove more trouble than you think,” said Henry lightly. “You always did underestimate women.” Harold snarled, “That is because they are the weak and foolish half of the human race.

“Now, that knife you are wearing will have to come off. We couldn’t have you escaping, now, could we?” Harold removed the knife from its sheath and set it on a nearby table.

“Let’s see. I think we should be able to find a closet somewhere for you and your wife? That would be just the thing. He caught sight of a door off the room where he was now and opened it.

“In you go,” said Harold. He looked around for a key, and saw one sitting on the same table where he had set Henry’s knife. He pocketed it, figuring it to be the one to the closet.

“Arthur! Samuel! Bring Eowyn in here!”

[Arien]

Braedon brought up the rear of the group, he pulled the reins of his horse to slow it down and then slackened them. Hama seemed to be taking his injury well, however it was obvious it was all for show, a wound like that would cause great pain. Greater pain than Hama was showing. Braedon knew that he was doing this for Sandrina, to stop her worrying. She had taken to comforting him and rewarding his courage with words of praise.

Braedon moved his hand to his own injury , it had been bandaged and was the least of his worries at the moment. But its sting reminded him grimly of the danger that the could, or were heading into. He sighed and watched as Haven’s horse moved in front of him, and then he glanced ahead to where Hama and Sandrina were leading the group. Raen was momentarily looking at the ground before him.

Braedon cast his eyes down too. Tracks! He stopped his horse and dismounted, crouching down to the floor, he ran his over the vague tracks of horses. They couldn’t have passed but a few hours ago, and there! Heading away from the estate, he moved along the tacks a bit. Haven had also dismounted and came over to join the Ranger.

“What is it?” She asked, looking down to the ground where Braedon was tracing his hand over.

“Tracks…” he mumbled.

“Is it them?” She asked, crouching down beside him, looking awkwardly at the indistinguishable mud and tracks.

“I am sure of it… Look,” he said pointing , “going from the estate. It has to be. Who else would be here? We have seen no one for miles.”

The two mounted again, the group unaware of their stop. Braedon rode up beside Raen, and Anora who had now joined him.

“You have see the…”

“..tracks, yes. I have.” Raen replied quietly. Braedon paused for a moment and with his better judgement he decided not to question Raen.

“We must inform Hama, he has obviously not see them.” Braedon waited for Raen to reply.

[Crystal Heart]

Sandrina's eyes scanned everywhere as she rode onward. That's when she saw them. Tracks leading away from the estate. She glared at the dirt. Her uncle or her cousins or both had figured what she would do. They would be after her parents now. There was no way she was not going to fight for them. She spun her horse around and bolted through the trees.

"Keep up or you'll be left behind!" Sandrina called to her company, a rage filling her. She knew exactly what her horrible extended family was to do. She was sure that they would try to use them as bait or something. They would probably even kill her parents, but as long as she was breathing she vowed that they would not die. No one on this day would die. No one that is except for her uncle and cousins. They would die.

She planned in her mind just what she would do. She knew that it was foolish to barge in through the front door. No, they would be expecting that. She had to do something that they never would believe that she would do.

They always believed that she was foolish. They always treated her like she was stupid just because of her gender. She hadn't proceeded in this quest quite like she should have and she knew that. But her parent's lives hung in the balance. It didn't matter what happened to her. The only thing that mattered was whether or not her parents lived and brought them to justice.

They would never expect her to come slinking through the backdoor. If there was a back door. She rode onward until she reached the house, but Hama was already smashing through the door. She raced her horse around the back, flung herself off, and crashed through the door with Anora at her side.

That's when she saw her parents and the rest of her forgotten memories came flooding back to her. Anger at having been missing, lost, hurt, hungry, and numerous other things flooded her mind. She cut her father's bindings and smiled.

"Do what must be done father. I will be here when you are done," Sandrina said, smiling. His eyes looked over at her in disbelief.

"I promise that I will my darling daughter. For you and your mother," Henry replied. She handed him the sword from her belt.

"Here you shall need this." Henry nodded, took it and hurried forward towards his brother.

The battle raged on, but Sandrina didn't care. She hurried over to her mother and undid her bindings as well and helped her to sit up. They sat together and watched. Then her father killed Harold, getting rid of the evil once and for all.

[Himaran]

Raen listened to Braedon and Anora with disguised disinterest. Yes, of course I saw the tracks. And no, we don't need to say anything to Hama. Knowing that it would be quite foolish to say anything of the sort, he decided to merely agree - for it was the widely accepted and prudent route. "Yes, no doubt Hama has not seen them. Let us inform him of the fact." The obvious cold nature of his words suprised him, but then Sandrina called to them, and all else was forgotten.

"We'd better hurry, can't let Sandrina get all of them before we arrive," he said, but the humor was lost even on himself. The party was tired, hungry, and dour to say the least. They turned and followed the woman, hoping that she was not running straight into a trap.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama rode up front, the pain in his back still lancing now and again. He noticed the tracks on the ground but dissmissed them, after all, in the realm of the horse lords, what are a set of hoof marks? He slowed his horse to a trot and looked at the tracks more closesly, more out of latent curiosity than anything. Many were incomplete, but in one he saw the steel casting of the lightheart family crest. His heart froze. Looking in the direction of the tracks, he mentally conjured an image of the area, and traced the path...it lead to, "Eowyn...Henry!" Hama said, audibly. "Crap!" He spurred his horse into a gallop, it reared up and snorted before beginning its run. Raen and Braedon looked round with astonishment. Sandrina saw it with fear, fear of what Hama was going to do. "Hama!" she shouted after him, but he ignored her. Damnit, Eowyn and Henry were some of his oldest friends, and damn the lot of them to Melkor if he was going to let them suffer a moment longer than they had to.

He looked back after about ten minutes, Sandrina and the rest were in hot pursuit, but his horse was one of the finest in Rohan outside of the Maeras. Its speed was nigh on unmatchable, and while it calmly galloped, the others were having to push their horses to the limit to painfully gain on him inch by inch. Hama knew he could have lost them if he wanted to, but he didn't. He wanted to keep them within sight, in case anything happened to Sandrina. Slowly Henry's cabin rose above the horizon, and slowly two figures came into sight at the door. One, Hama could tell, was Henry. The other...well it looekd a bit like Harold, but it was too far away to be sure. He saw Henry pushed inside the house, his hands bound and his fury increased. Whoever this was, they'd pay for it...they wouldn't get away with it...He kicked his horse's flanks harder and it reached a full gallop, the others behind became smaller and smaller as Hama's horse threw itself forwards with all its strength. Reaching the door to the cabin Hama leapt from the saddle and landed heavily outside the door.

Drawing his sword he braced himself and lashed his foot at the door with all his might. It flew inwards several feet before clattering to the ground. Harold was standing over Henry's form, pushing him into a trunk. Eowyn was being held by Samuel and Arthur, Hama noticed that her arms and legs had been bound, and her clothing was tattered, unusual for her...and certainly not of her chosing. Harold looked round at the door when it flew inwards, a sick smile growing in his face as he slammed the lid on Henry. Samuel and Arthur looked very scared all of a sudden, as if a fully grown Hama Haukrsonn, Royal Guard to King Eomer, bursting through the door hadn't been what they had in mind for this operation. Samuel's lower lip was trembling slightly and he flinched as he saw the uncontrolable fury of Hama's face as he raised it to look at them. Arthur took a step or two backwards, letting Eowyn drop face first onto the floor. Seeing this, and hearing Eowyn's cry as her head hit the ground, Hama pushed Harold from his mind, along with his wound, and lunged with his sword at Arthur...

[Firefoot]

Harold glanced up, startled, as the door crashed inward. A man, one Harold vaguely recognized, strode through the door with a sword in hand. Eowyn was dropped by Arthur, who also drew his sword. For the moment, Harold shoved Henry into the closet and shut the door. He readied his sword, knowing this man couldn’t be the only one coming. He was proven right almost immediately when three women pushed through the door, one of them Sandrina. She met Harold’s gaze boldly, hate mirrored in her eyes.

“Time for you to die,” said Harold. He lunged for her with his sword, and his blade crashed on that of the woman standing to Sandrina’s right. He did not waste time to glare at her.

“It is not I who will die today,” said Sandrina. Harold supposed she was trying to sound noble. “It is you.” She too drew her sword, and Harold found himself faced by the three armed women.

“Not until you do,” replied Harold, and with that he made another move that began the continuous dipping and twisting that made up the special dance of sword fighting. Harold had great skill with a sword, and he knew it. He received a small nick on his left shoulder, but returned it with many more. Seizing an opportunity, he snaked his sword back behind one of the woman’s legs and sliced at her hamstrings. The woman collapsed, out of the fight. Now Harold had but two opponents. The ring of metal on metal was in his ears, and his awareness was limited to that of his sword and this battle.

He was about to deliver the death-stroke to the woman he did not know when his blade was stopped abruptly by another’s, and Harold was jerked back to reality. He saw that it was a man, about the same height as himself. Harold kept his eyes on all of them. Sandrina seemed perhaps a little relieved. The man spoke to them, “Sandrina, Anora, you two go and help Henry and Eowyn. I will take over from here.” The man turned to Harold. Harold now had the opportunity to see what else was going on in his peripheral vision. There was only one other man that he had failed to notice before, and he was fighting Samuel. Arthur was still fighting with that other man, whose actions were now visibly labored.

“You have caused Sandrina a great deal of pain, you know,” the man addressed Harold, apparently testing Harold out.

“Good,” replied Harold. “She has caused me a great deal of trouble.” Harold ran his blade down that of his new opponent’s. Harold feinted left and stabbed to the right. The man parried both with slices of his own. Harold nodded. Here was a decent swordsman. This fight was more intense than the one he had fought with the women. Harold could feel sweat dripping down his forehead. He had not had rough days like these past few in many years, and he was not young anymore. To his benefit was the skill and wisdom such as it was that came with age. There was no time for thought. The heat of his hate fueled him on. He had a goal to accomplish; this man was only an obstacle. By the end of this day, Henry and Sandrina alike would be dead for the griefs they had caused him.

The man was good, but Harold was better. The man, seeing a chance, reached out too far, and Harold did not hesitate. He ducked, knocking the man off balance, and stabbed into the man’s side. Blood spurted from the wound. The man fell over in a faint, but Harold knew he was not dead. He had struck beneath the rib cage. He set his sword to the man’s chest. Ordinarily, he would have left the man, but he had aided Sandrina, no small crime in Harold’s opinion.

“I would not do that if I were you,” said a soft voice behind him. It was one Harold recognized instantly: Henry’s. Harold felt sharp cold metal against his own neck. Slowly, he turned around.

“If I were like you,” said Henry. “I would kill you now. But I will not. I will give you a fair chance. Let us see whether your sword skills have improved since we were teens.” Harold’s temper flared. Henry had beaten him before when Harold tried to kill him; he would not now.

“You will regret it,” Harold spat. He turned, and walked toward the gaping doorway. “Come. We will do this properly, in somewhere with more space than this room. Henry grunted in assent, and followed Harold outside.

The brothers faced off, a few feet from each other, each raising his sword. Wordlessly, they flew at each other. Both started out relatively easily, and as they felt each other out the skill level steadily increased. Very evenly matched, both Henry and Harold received small cuts, but nothing more serious than that, though Harold's shoulder where the woman had cut it was throbbing. They fought in a cold fury, their swords blazing as if on fire in the light of the westering sun. The advantage switched back and forth, both men attacking and parrying.

Henry made as if to slash into Harold’s right side. Harold saw this as a fatal mistake, and he stabbed with a vengeance at Henry’s heart. As soon as he began to move, Harold knew he had made a mistake. Henry had fooled him with a simple trick, and sure enough the blade of Henry’s sword came up and knocked Harold’s weapon out of his hand. He knew that Henry would not let him go free this time. Bitterly he rued the day Arthur and Samuel had failed to kill Sandrina. Because of their mistake, he would die this day.

Henry wore a small smile on his face. It was not happiness, nor satisfaction. Harold realized it was sadness. Henry moved his sword within inches of Harold’s face. Harold did not flinch.

“I wish I did not have to do this,” said Henry. “but I do. If it had been only me you had hurt, this day and every day since Sandrina turned up missing, I could forgive you. I was not the only one hurt, though. My wife and daughter have suffered, too. This is for them.” His voice, though it had grown softer in tone, had also grown harder in conviction. This aroused curiosity in Harold. He wondered his brother’s words, that his death was for Sandrina and Eowyn. What kind of love was this? Harold did not understand, did not want to understand. It was too late for him. Any breath he took could be his last. He pushed the soft thoughts away. He had lived strong, and he would now die strong.

“This is for them,” repeated Henry, and with those words he drove his sword through Harold’s heart.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Hama swung again and again at Arthur who, although visibly shaken and scared, was parrying each stroke deftly, a swordsman's instinct, nothing more or less..."You know nothing of us!" he screamed at Hama, who he obviously didn't recognise immediately, "You know nothing! We have done no wrong, you're a rider, you are sworn to protect us!"...Hama smiled grimly at this last remark. "Sworn protector of law abiding citizens, Arthur Lightheart!" Arthur reeled at the sound of his name. "Not petty, murderous, rich criminals like yourself and your family!"..."Who ARE you?" Arthur screamed, Eowyn stood up, visibly hurt, and bleeding from the mouth where Arthur had dropped her. Her eyes widened, like Arthur's, and like Samuel's, when he said as he swung agin, "I am Hama Haukrsonn, sworn protector of Eomer, his law, and his people. I am also a friend of your family..." Hama smiled as he leaned in close, swords locked, "You always were a slimy, spoilt little brat, Arthur. I'm amazed you're still alive..." Samuel tripped over his own shoes and fell backwards onto the floor as he retreated backwards from the battle. Raen grabbed him and held a knife to his throat. "Leaving so soon, worm?"

Hama and Arthur were evenly matched, for all his experience, Hama was hurt badly, and the bandage around his midriff started to redden around his back as his wound opened again. Arthur, seeing Hama's increasingly laboured swings, stepped up the pace. Now the positions were reversed, Hama was driven backwards while Arthur continued to swing furiously. Eventually, Arthur became tired as well, foiled by Hama's skill. Both men lowered their swords for the briefest of moments to rest...

Hama's face hardened as he watched Sandrina. He'd protected her, damn near died for her, and for what, so these criminals could walk free? As Crystal handed him back his sword, Hama raised it to Arthur's throat. Arthur started to weep, the tears of the damned. He crawled to Hama's feet, kissing his shoes, beggind him to spare his life. Samuel just sat quietly at the back, whimpering. Hama looked dow at Arthur. "One good reason. One good reason why I shouldn't kill you, Arthur." Arthur lowered his head and wept. It was a pitiful sight. He knelt down, praying. Hama spat at him...and raised his sword....


The blade clove clean through Arthur's neck, his headless body, spewing fountains of blood, fell to the floor. Hama raised the head by its hair and threw it at Samuel, who caught it. He began to weep as he saw the expression on his dead brothers face, one of sheer, pure terror. "It'll be you next, Samuel Lightheart, if I ever have cause to do it." Hama spoke harshly, and left, leaving Samuel weeping like a child over his brother's body...

[Crystal Heart]

Henry walked over to his daughter, tears brimming in his eyes.

"My daughter, you are alive," He whispered as he drew her into his arms. Sandrina cried against him, happy to finally have everything back. Eowyn joined the hug and crying fest. Then Sandrina broke away.

"We can celebrate at home. Now we must deal with the other two traitors. They were the ones that carried out the plan," Sandrina said. Henry looked down at his daughter, pride in his eyes. He turned to Samuel and Arthur, glaring. The pride that was there moments before was gone. Anger replaced it.

"You two. You took away our daughter. You made us believe that she was dead. You are nothing. I want you to face justice here and now with my Sandrina's sword. Kneel down you traitors. NOW!" Henry roared. They trembled as they got down on their knees.

Henry stepped forward and whipped the sword point upon their faces. They screamed out in pain as the blood flowed freely down their face.

"This is a mark of what you have done against us. No matter where you go now, everyone will know of what you have done. Raen and Hama you may do what you see fit," Henry said. Then he walked over and handed Sandrina her sword.

"Let's go home Father," Sandrina said. Henry nodded and smiled.

"Yes, let us go home. All of us. I would like to give you all rewards for what you have done. Please join us at our estate," Henry took Eowyn's hand and led her outside slowly. Sandrina turned to the group.

"Thank you all for what you have done for me. I am in your deepest debts," Sandrina said, her eyes glistening with tears. Anora smiled and gave her a hug. Sandrina's eyes wandered over the group that was smiling at her.

"It was our pleasure to help you, Sandrina," Raen said.


Together they went to the estate for a grand party and for a reward in money, uniting them together for now and always through this quest. The sun dipped down over the happy, celebatory group, sealing with it the end of their journey together.






Seekers of Truth

[piosenniel]

~*~ Finis ~*~

[piosenniel]

~*~ To Elvenhome ~*~