[Nerindel]

Léspheria

Léspheria leaned low over Losserme's neck as they flew over the ford, "the stairs" she whispered pulling the reigns in their direction. Over the splash of the mare’s hooves in the shallow water, she could hear the crash of the orcs as they without regard broke through the trees trampling all under their dark feet, their guttural cries making her haste all the greater. Reaching the stair she quickly dismounted, without watching the mare head off to take another path to the last house, she ascended the stairs, her light steps noiseless on the stone steps.

A sudden cry from below made her look back, Her chest heaved heavily as she saw some of the orcs raising their weapons and cheering, one of the larger orcs held something aloft in his hands. She squinted to see what prize he held only to wish that she had not. She felt herself go numb as she realise that the orc held aloft a human head, But who's? She thought sadly. Shaking off the numb feeling, she looked about for any sign that Amandur or Maethor was still alive. She faltered slightly as she saw Amandur trying to fight his way to where the triumphant orc stood, both with relief then with guilt as she realised that she was glad that Amandur lived.

From her position halfway up the stairs she could see that Amandur was struggling, the orcs would soon surround him and he too would be lost, she desperately looked between the ford and the top of the stairs, she would not make it back to him in time, he had asked her to bring help. The wall of self control that she had been painstakingly perfecting over the past fortnight suddenly crumbled at the thought that she would loss Amandur in this way so close to her home, a silvery tear escaped glistening on her pale cheek. "No, it can not be!" she defiantly whispered taking a deep breath and straightening to hold herself proudly.

"Orqur! I'Orqur nantenna me!" (Orcs! The Orcs are upon us!) She cried up the stairs then drawing her sword, she flew down to the stairs, praying to Ilúvatar that the elves had heard her warning.

Amandur's situation was not improving so she acted quickly, keeping her eyes on the orcs, she began reciting the spell that once protected the river, Although she knew the protection had been broken with the unmaking of the one ring she hoped the Orcs know and fear the elven spell. As her clear voice cut above the sound of the ford, a deep gravely voice cried, "An elf witch!” It worked the orcs hesitated some even stepping back and searching the far bank for others. She cast a quick glance to Amandur; he had taken advantage of her diversion and was running for the other side of the shore.

The orcs hesitation did not last long, "She's alone" their leader laughed, "Kill the ranger and bring me the elf," he ordered. Realising that the deception was over and that she had bought Amandur the time to flee she descended the rest of the stairs to help him. Throwing out her hand she helped him ashore, he was pale and his dark hair clung to his face, he also clutched at his right arm and she could see the dark red blood staining his ripped shirt.

"Maethor" he whispered hoarsely avoiding her gaze as he stepped onto the bank.

"I know" she replied sympathetically, she knew he would blame himself for the young ranger’s demise, but there was no time to reassure him, the orcs were fast at their heels.

"Come, we must get to the stairs!" she urged, he glanced back to the pursuing orcs then defeated nodded his assent.

Black feathered arrows skipped dangerously close, taking a cursory glance backwards she saw that some of the orcs had halted their advance and had now drawn crossbows and large crude looking bows. As they reached the stairs she could see a second group of orcs before them, they had obviously broke off and crossed the river further up stream.

"I Hope their aim is as crude as their bows!" she whispered trying to emulate Amandur usual wit in such circumstances. However, the ranger said nothing, looking distant and withdrawn. However, as he too saw the second group of orc a sudden light and determination came to his eyes, he lifted his sword defiantly and Léspheria feared he would charge straight amid the close advancing orcs but instead he held his guard and slowly backed up the stairs.

"Naar!" (Fire) Lespheria looked up to see a hail of arrows descend upon the startled orcs.

"Noro lim, noro lim mellonea!" (Fly, fly friends)

"Fintár!" Léspheria laughed recognising the elf captain's voice. She pushed her sword into the chest of an orc who had tried to grab her, then pulling it out she and Amandur ascended the stairs as the orcs scrambled to defend themselves from the ensuing volley.

As she reached the top she looked down to see the chaos below. But as she looked, she was sure she saw a dark lithe figure flit between the trees on the far bank of the ford. "Naiore!" she thought aloud, a few of the archer nearby looked at her puzzled, but ignoring their confused looks she strode towards the tall fair haired elf captain.

"The lady of the swan is behind this attack!" she bluntly informed him, his pale eyes regarded her and he thought on her words, she then followed the elf's gaze as he took in his patrol.

"We are but a scouting party and not large enough to hold of against the lady's host, but the alarm has been raised and help should arrive within a few hours, but this news must be relied to our lords at once." Sadness laced his words and Léspheria knew he had resigned himself to order his men to remain until reinforcements could arrive.

"We will go quickly and ... "she began but Amandur interjected "No, I will stay and help if I can."

"But you are hurt?" Fintár frowned eyeing the rangers blood soaked sleeve, as Léspheria stared.

"It's not deep," he answered, more to assure Léspheria than the elven captain, she smiled and turned to the captain, "He has a good bow shot and I fear I would have to drag him from the battle, we lost a dear friend and comrade to these foul creatures."

Fintár's frown faded and he nodded his assent and understanding, "I am sorry for your loss, may I ask the name of your friend."

"It was Maethor" she sighed, and Amandur turned away.

"Then I am truly sorry, for Maethor was well known and liked among our people, his gentle song will be sorely missed in the halls."
After a short farewell, Léspheria continued on alone, the echo of battle following her along the main path and drowning out the soft lament of the birds. The setting sun held not its exquisite wonder, but reminded her of the blood that would be spilled this night in their fair realm, a place of Sanctuary Tainted by Naiores malice, with that thought she hurried on towards the last house.