[Child of the 7th Age]

Rose/Sharon joint post (but taking the spear was Rose's idea, and all her thoughts/ action of this sequence as well!

Ahead of them, at the foot of the hill, lay the River Siril. Few houses or buildings remained along the bank, as they'd been cleared out on orders of the king in an effort to isolate the prisoners. One or two fishing vessels were docked alongside the river awaiting the next morning when they would push out to sea. They were small things, holding no more than three or four Men.

The two women walked to the edge of the hill, looking downward on the river. The fog that had covered the land was even more dense here. It was difficult to see anything beyond the broadest outline of the water and the boats. Nitir strained her eyes for a glimpse of young hobbits, but to no avail. The children had seemingly vanished without a trace. Even if they could be found, she wasn't sure how they would ever get back to the Elven ships. The hobbrim escorts were nowhere to be seen. They'd probably gotten the last hobbits through and departed back to safety. No one from the Star even knew she and Azra, or the boys, were missing. A tendril of fear rooted in Nitir's heart, but she quickly pushed it back.

Then, from somewhere in the darkness and silence, could be heard the cries of a young child who was clearly struggling without success to hold back a flood of tears. It sounded a bit like Ban. The noise seemed to be from the adjacent boat, but it was hard to tell with certainty. With the speed of youth, Azra sprinted ahead on the path towards the vessel, leaving Nitir behind to make her way more slowly down the steep hill.

As she reached the river's edge, the girl had her first clear view of the scene and could glimpse three children huddled together at the very front of the docked boat. Two men towered over them brandishing harpoons. A few words came floating over to her ears, filled with hideous intent, "Look what we've got here. Rats, little rats. I hear they're good for sport."

Azra wondered where the smallest boy had gone. She could not see him anywhere.

Little Maura had managed to escape the detection of the men by hiding behind a barrel, one of several which had been left standing on the docks. He'd become separated from the older boys, and was now crouched down in terror, wondering whether he should try and clamber up on the deck of the small boat to get close to them again. But the Men with their harpoons frightened him. They looked too much like guards. When Maura spied Azra, he cried out and began to run in her direction along the long wooden dock, hoping she could do something about those men.

But Nitir and Azra weren't the only ones to see him running. The two men on the ship looked out and saw one of their prey escaping. The Man could certainly have run down and scooped up the boy under his arm with little effort. But either because of an automatic reaction, or perhaps out of cold blood, the Man hurled his harpoon at the youngster.

Azra saw this and in a single moment what seemed like a thousand thoughts raced through her head. She thought of the Shire, of her friends, of Maura, but most of all her promise to Nitir that they would both make it through that night. Rose threw aside this last thought and hurled herself in front of Maura, her head hitting the wooden post along the edge of the dock, as she landed with a thud.

You might think it would be painful to have a spear piercing your side with your own blood spilling out onto the ground. Azra could only feel a numb disbelief at what she'd just done. She didn't have much time to dwell on this since the next moment, as she hit the ground, she lost consciousness.

Nitir stopped dead at the base of the hill, unable to assimilate what had just occurred. The toddler came racing up, clinging fiercely to her skirts. A second harpoon whizzed by in their direction, just two or three inches to the side. Finally, she reacted. Nitir quickly pulled out two arrows and cocked her bow, first once and then again. This time she shot with deadly speed and aim. One-by-one, the arrows found their mark, points and shaft buried deep inside the men's chests, only the feathers sticking out. One man dropped to the deck with a gasp, while the other, who'd been leaning against the rail, tottered forward and then heaved left, keeling into the river. Instantly, the children leapt from their prison and ran forward, mobbing the woman in happy relief.

Nitir stopped to make sure they were not hurt, then broke loose from their hugs and raced over by Azra. She gently tugged back and forth at the lancehead and managed to loosen it from the flesh so that it came free. The wound was grievous, but Nitir could not say exactly how deep. She tried to staunch the bleeding with her skirts. It slowed a little, but, to her dismay, did not stop. Azra was unconscious, and showed no sign of waking.

Their only hope was to return to the ship. But how? It was too late to retrace their steps and go back inside the tombs. An enormous ball of smoke and fire hung over the entire prison compound, and probably blocked all the entrances except for the river tunnel itself. And how could she walk anywhere with Azra so grievously wounded? On her own, she might have swum up the river to the ship, but with the small boys and unconscious girl in her care, this was not a possibility.

The children had gathered near Azra's body trying to show their concern. Little Maura ran about in circles, oblivious to their sadness, rhythmically chanting to himself. "Birdie, Maura want pretty birdie."

Nitir gathered the toddler in her arms, "Hush now, I need to think a minute."

"But Maura want birdie, black and white birdie." He pointed to the sky.

Nitir looked at Maura. She saw something quite remarkable. The child had a fey look in his eye, a knowing akin to wisdom, almost as if he held lore somewhere in his brain that had been preserved and hidden, waiting for the moment when it was needed, and when his own body would mature. He was one of those rare hobbits who saw and felt things others just passed by.

It was at least worth a try. Their chances were small, but anything was better than sitting and doing nothing. She'd done it before with Angara. Why not one of the others fighting in the tombs? And, for some reason, Nitir knew that Maura was right. It had to be Bird who would come this time.

She snuggled the child into her body, and whispered to him, "Think about Birdie real, real hard, as hard as you can, and ask her to come to us." Then Nitir closed her eyes and tried, as she'd never tried before, to tell someone, anyone, to send the great dragon to their aid.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]