[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Gilly

Fear gripped Gilly as she saw the fury with which Barrold drove the point of the companion sword down among the grass. “Toby!” she screamed, flying from Benia’s side without any clear idea of what help she might expect to offer. And seeing the festering contempt that distorted Ferny’s face she stopped short. She had no weapon against this man, this wounded animal, not even her pocketknife to wield. It would be foolish. Looking quickly around, searching the ground for the sword she had cast aside, she snatched it hurriedly from where it lay in the wet grass, stumbling as the weight of it dragged behind her.

Toby’s initial cry had waxed into haunting silence, and Gilly squinted hard in the pale morning light, hopeful of seeing any movement at all among the grass. She thought that just maybe she saw his foot move, and scrabbled to her feet, still determined to drive Barrold away from his deadly retaliation. Hearing a muffled thud followed by a groan, Gilly looked up to find that Dúlrain had taken advantage of Barrold’s momentary inattention, charging the brute that continued to hurl abuse as he kicked the small crumpled form at his feet. The ranger drove his shoulder into Ferny’s left side, succeeding in pushing him further away from where the wounded hobbit lay, and engaged him once more to slowly draw him further off.

Dropping the sword, Gilly ran back toward where Benia stood anxiously watching the struggling men. Her friend took a few steps toward them; golden eyes wide with fear and pain as Ferny continued to lunge at Dúlrain in rapid succession. Grabbing Benia’s hand, Gilly tried to pull her away. “Come quick, Miss Benia, I need your help. We’ve got to move Toby, before he has another shot at him. We’ve got to hide him.” The hobbit did not say it, but she had a mind to hide Benia as well. She did not want that monster ever to lay eyes on her friend again let alone use her as a weapon against Dúlrain. But Benia resisted the hobbit’s coaxing, as if she hasn’t heard.

Setting her teeth so that her lips were transformed into a hard thin line, the hobbit pulled with all her might until Benia looked at her exasperated. “Two minutes!” Gilly snapped. “Give me two minutes, and quick before Dúlrain tires and really does need help! Where has all your good sense gone, now that you need it?” A furrow appeared in the southern woman’s brow as she looked from the hobbit to Dúlrain. “Come, be quick!” Gilly urged, pulling the woman along. Heading for Benia’s sword, Gilly stopped to reach down and unwinding the grass that clung to it, she pressed the hilt into Benia’s tattooed hand and closed the ornately decorated fingers around it. “We might need this,” she said, before continuing to lead her to Toby.

The fallen hobbit lay awkward and still in the grass, his shoulder soaked bright red. Gilly’s relief was tremendous as she saw the heavy rise and fall of his chest, and letting Benia’s hand drop she ran to his side. He was still alive! But he was still bleeding and that was worrisome. Tearing her petticoat, Gilly quickly pressed a wad of the material against the wound and tore another length to wrap it tight. “Help me move him,” she said looking up to Benia. “Maybe behind the bushes,” she suggested.

Benia handed her father’s sword back to the hobbit, and lifted Toby in her arms. “Not behind the bushes, Gilly,” the southern woman said. “It is the first place he would look. But I remember that the land dips down over this way. Toby would be well hidden there.”

“Good enough,” Gilly said. “But hurry before the lout notices where we are taking him.”

A stone throw away from where they stood the land rippled deeply, the fold nearly invisible among the wide expanse of grass. As Benia gently lowered Toby down in the valley it formed, they both saw that he was bleeding from his mouth as well. “Oh Miss Benia, he is hurt somewhere else. Inside, I think!” Gilly said.

Benia knelt down beside the hobbit looking closely at his face. Opening his mouth, she gave Gilly a small smile. “It is only his teeth,” she said. But the blood had already begun to seep through his bandaged shoulder, and she sighed, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder above the bandage. “I wish that we had the elves’ help for this wound.”

Gilly brightened a little. “Ah but we do! Lady Léspheria had given me these,” Gilly said pulling out two phials from her pocket and holding them in the palm of her hand for Benia to see. “She said that one helps heal injury and one causes immediate sleep, but I can’t recall which is which.” The hobbit paused, bringing the phials close to her eyes to study them. “I think this bluish one is the one for sleep. I’m nearly sure it is. We don’t need that now, do we?”

An indulgent smile flickered across Benia’s face. And she looked back toward were the sound of the men fighting could still be heard. “It’s been a while now. Perhaps Dúlrain is tired,” Gilly said. “Don’t worry, Miss Benia, I will use this other medicine on Toby. But if you decide to return to the fighting, take this also as well as your sword.“ The hobbit handed Benia the blue phial. “To use on Ferny if you have half a chance!” she said with a wink. But in the depths of her heart she feared that her friend needed to have some defense incase things where to go terribly wrong, and was glad when Benia took the slender phial to examine it.