[Envinyatar]

They had ridden toward the Bruinen all the rest of that day, and through the night. It was a desperate flight with horses and riders exhausted from the pace. Sturdy as he was, Andas’ mule was hard put to keep up with the others. Long before the sun had risen the small group had strung out along the road from fatigue and flagging spirits. Should the enemy come upon them now, they would be easily picked off.

Veryadan rode with Osric; the strength of the man from Rohan’s arms had kept him upright and the sound of the man’s voice speaking low to him as he fought his way back to consciousness swept back the grey veil that had overwhelmed his senses. He was weak, very weak. His thoughts were muzzy as they rode along, and the searing pain where his side had been reopened was so constant now that it, too, proved difficult to think beyond it.

Someone called a halt just as first light broke over the trees that lined the road. The companions gathered, slipping off their mounts gratefully. Their muscles ached from riding; their bellies grumbled as those who had not lost their packs in the battle hauled out dried meat and fruits and skins of water to slake their thirst. It was a small quiet moment that would not last. All too soon, Tarondo was urging them back to their lathered mounts.

Motioning to Luinien, Veryadan gathered his thoughts about him as best he could. Osric had recounted for him the events of the battle. ‘We cannot stand against them another time. The Trolls, I understand, still remain at four, and though we downed a number of the Orcs, still I doubt that was the whole of their host that came against us.’ He drew a ragged breath and jutted his chin toward where the Bruinen lay and Rivendell just beyond it. ‘Send one of the Elves who was not wounded in the last battle to Rivendell for help. Silruth or Aidwain. Their horses are Elven bred and can find the reserves needed to bear their rider in haste.’

Luininen spoke with Tarondo. Aidwain was sent off, his mount’s hooves tearing up the road as he made his way east to the river. ‘Help me up,’ said Veryadan as Osric brought round his horse. The Ranger lurched to his feet, steadied by Osric’s hand. Then, grasping tightly to the horse’s mane, he leveraged himself up once more with a boost up from the other man. ‘We have a good half day ahead of us to reach the ford,’ he heard Osric say as he took his position behind. Veryadan handed him the reins, his own hands holding tight to the edge of the saddle to steady himself. ‘Let us hope we reach the river before darkness falls,’ he heard someone say on a nearby horse as they started off. ‘Let us hope’ the Ranger said quietly to himself, ‘that we reach the river at all.’