[Child of the 7th Age]

The clash of swordplay resounded through the grove as Peachblossom reached out to toss aside one of the Easterlings who was bearing down upon her with a burning torch. Grappling him about the waist, she flung his body to the ground, but another swarm of soldiers again surged ahead, encircling her while holding aloft their hated firebrands.

Two giant strides towards the edge of the encampment brought her within arm's length of a rocky overhang on which rested a cluster of giant boulders. Bending low, the Entwife seized one of these and lifted it effortlessly to her shoulder, then darted forward towards her pursuers, searching for an opening in the fray where she could at least get a clear path to heave her rock. But there were so many combattants wedged into the tiny space that it was impossible for her to pick a target without risking injury to others who fought on her behalf.

With one final effort, she lunged out and grabbed a tree limb that had fallen to the ground, brandishing it high over her head and, with a howl, charged towards her would-be captors. Almost simultaneously, five torches came hurtling through the air, three of them thudding harmlessly onto the forest floor and two catching her full in the side. Terrible pain caught hold as the leaping flames seared her branches and bark, even spreading to her legs, which had already been sorely injured by the dragging chains and manacles. She leaned back hopeless against a great oak tree, feeling her trunk waver and slowly give way under the rushing onslaught of small bodies swarming over her like tiny ants atop a great mound.

One time, Peachblossom tried to rouse; her body lurching to the left, she struggled to rise, but then sank back in despair. All about her were images of death. Bodies lying amid the grass and bracken, other Elves and Men fighting on despite grievous injuries.

Her only purpose in coming here was to deliver a message that would save these folk from attack. Instead, she had brought violence straight towards them. And there was no reason for any of this to continue. She had delivered her message. The only reason the Easterlings now fought was to drag her back to the plantation. If she simply stopped fighting, if she let her body lie limp, they would return triumphant to their camp dragging her along and leave the Men and Elves to live.

With a certainty that what she did was right, Peachblossom let her head slip back and made no resistence as the chains and manacles were again locked in place. With the torches threatening her from behind, she struggled to her feet and let herself be dragged off into the forest back towards her imprisonment. Her mind reached out to the others with one last frantic message. Please, protect yourself. Rally your forces against the army from Rhun. And perhaps someday you may come and set my sisters free.....