[Amanaduial the archer]

"Leave him! There is nothing we can for him now," Atharen yelled back, reigning his horse sharply to turn in the right direction, the direction Roryn had already started galopping in. Behind him Ferethor stood as if frozen, his hands spread. Atharen could understand his hesitation, torn between leaving another man behind, but the ranger also knew that there was nothing to do for Del anymore: he had seen the wound on the man's side as he glimpsed him between the riders, and he knew the traveller would not be able to move fast enough to escape anyway. Atharen hated a part of himself for it, but knew that it was that part that would allow Maen to complete her task yet. "Ferethor!" he yelled again.

The guard seemed shaken awake and stumbled towards his horse, swinging on. It was only when he had ridden past that Atharen himself turned once more to go, but before he went he had one last task to do. Notching with an arrow one of the bows which he had picked up after it had fallen from a dead Haradrim's hands, he sighted on Del, who was now on his knees, hemmed between several of the outlaws who were closing in slowly, savouring their victory. Atharen knew what the outlaws did to those who they caught alive - a swift, accurate shot from his bow would be far better, and Del would know it, he had no doubt. Still, this was an easterling arrow - maybe the vicious outlaws would think it was one of their own who had shot the traveller, and Del would not have to suffer too much for they would be too busy looking for whichever of them had supposedly shot him.

"May the Vala speed you on your way, Delphinous," Atharen murmured as he sighted carefully, then let fly with the arrow. He heard the thud and then a cry of outrage from one of the outlaws, before he wheeled around, his eyes closed for a second in silent prayer for the man who he had just shot, before he galopped away as fast as the horse could carry him.

~*~

As they came to another clearing after ten minutes of hard riding, Atharen slowed, calling to Roryn who was not far ahead of him, having waited for a few minutes when he had not seen Atharen following. Coming to a halt as he drew up beside Roryn, he patted his stallion on the neck gently and the horse whinnied quietly. The ex-ranger looked sidelong at Atharen. "What kept you?"

Atharen fixed a very clear, telling gaze on Roryn, then shook his head. Changing the subject a little, he looked over his shoulder as danced the stallion around a few steps, scanning the treeline behind them. "Did Ferethor ride ahead to Maen?"

Roryn looked puzzled. "Ride ahead? Nay, I presumed he was following you, Atharen."

"Following m..." Atharen stared at Roryn, then whirled back around. He swore under his breath. "He must have been taken down. Wait here, I'll go back. Roryn, please - go back to Maen, tell her...oh, tell her I have my horse has got something embedded in his hoof, and that I am fixing it."

"Atharen, will you not take longer than that?" Roryn replied.

Atharen hesitated for a second, then replied softly, "If I take much longer, you will know the reason."

Roryn held out his hand to grasp Atharen's, but the latter pulled away, grinning. "Nay, don't do that - I think my type are not meant to die so young!" With a last grin, he turned and rode back into the treeline.