Horrified, Morwen watched, listened. Corsair! An attak! Her master was out there, fighting them, while they were huddled in their carriage, trying to be as silent, fighting the impulse to run, scream, or just dissapear. The attak had come suddenly, unexpected, with no warning. And the worst: Gil and Rolen were still in the city, trapped in a surely deadly prison. Carresing Narya to calm her, Morwen strained her ears. Battle. She couldnīt make out deliberate voices, only mixed battle cris, anguisdhed screams and, worst of all, the silent coughing of the dead. Swords clanged against each other, speers flying through the air with a deadly "zwish", she heard swords banging on shields, giving a sickening sound. Was there hope for them? Could they ever escape these monsters from the sea?
"Oh Narya," she wispered, forcing down her tears. "Where will all this end?"
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