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Even as Ferethor stood transfixed on the spot in the edge of battle gazing on the blurring and bloody scene, Roryn came up behind him. "Ferethor, let us leave!" He shouted as he tried to pull the Gondorian back into the shadows of trees but it was vain for Ferethor did not relent. Proud he was, for he was of the decendant of house of Hador and the valourous blood of Edain and Atanatari ran strong in his mind.
He muttered something urgently that Ferethor could not distinguish and sent another arrow in the direction of a fray. When he reeled and found Roryn vanished into the forest, he cried out in great wrath, "You coward!"
An arrow whistled as it arched through the air and impaled a charging horse maddened with pain from earlier injury through the chest. It fell heavily and writhed on the ground in its last mortal agony as Ferethor turned and raised his gaze to Roryn who was hidden in a cleft of leaves above an elm. Good hiding place, that. But he had not time more to think as he faced another opponent, evading a series of blows and succeeding in taking his life with a skillful thrust of his steel already stained with blood.
"There are more coming!" shouted Roryn as he leapt down tot he ground with lightness that surprised him, "Lots more! Get out of there while you can, I have no wish to tell Maen that you are all dead!"
But Ferethor was steadfast in his denial to leave as was shown in his reply, "What about Del, Roryn?" And Atharen called out in a painful voice as he slashed a bandit down, "Leave him! As Roryn says, there are more supplements coming from the eastern side of the forest. WE cannot withstand them. Del buys us time to escape with his blood. Let us take it, and go! It is ours to live."
But still Ferethor hesitated in a dreamlike state, lingering. Only when Atharen, driven by urgency, cried, "Ferethor!" did he come back to full awareness. Turning with his hands clenched, Ferethor asked, "Leave him? Atharen..." He replied almost brutally as he mounted his horse, the inevitable reply "There is nothing we can do."
And Ferethor knew that it was true. He impaled a mounted raider who met a swift end at his already bloodstained blade, and leaped upon his horse. Others were disregarding them at the moment since they were all gathered around Del, who was stalling for time to give them a chance to flee. However a volley of black-feathered arrows followed him as he galloped across the open glade, and the arrowheads seemed aflame in the light of the sunset. The poor horse whinnied in pain and fell heavily on the ground as it was mortally hurt. Ferethor, narrowing avoiding falling with it, made for the woodlands on foot.
He winced as a searing pain cut through his shoulders, one of the parting gifts from a bandit archer. He hid himself in the shadows of trees as he clenched his teeth to escape from gasping out in pain. A few moments later, the raiders themselves came to look for him. That means Del has...
"Sir! He wouldn't have gone far." One said confidently, shouldering his longbow. "I am pretty sure that I got him." But thw man who seemed to be in command now turned. "We do not have times to search for a single man in the woodlands all night! We head back to our refuge by Anduin by nightfall."
The night fell on the forest slowly, casting its clinging web of darkness over the leaves and the bloodstained glade. Ferethor could not see clearly for his vision was blurred with his own blood from the arrow. Ferethor had tried to wrench the arrowhead out and found to his dismay and much anguish that it was buried deeply in his muscle and he could not wrench it out without help. With loss of blood and anguish and despair, his conciousness faded into sub-reality as the moon rose in its majesty.
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