[doug*platypus]

Skara paused, listening. The night closed itself around the Woodsman and his two companions as he signalled for them to halt. Only a little while ago they had left the main body of their force several hundred yards back, hidden in the undergrowth. Skara and the other two leaders were scouting around the edge of the wood. Away south the forest stretched off into the distance, its secrets hidden for now in the middle of the night.

Skara was more cautious now that the the group was not together. He thought he had heard, almost felt, movement about them somewhere just now. Suddenly, a blur of movement from above the three men. A small, dreamlike form flew off a ledge to their left, landed nimbly, rolled and stood up... right in front of the weaponsmith, Ru-Sahn. Fortune was with them. She, for plainly this was a maid-child, stood for a second seeming pleased with herself.

"Hello my pretty," the weaponsmith murmured darkly as he clamped his hand down on her shoulder. The child stood horrified, staring at his hand as though the very touch of it pained her. Then spinning away, she looked at the three men standing in front of her. Ru-Sahn made a lunge for her, and she screamed out as she jumped backwards. Turning, the child started to sprint away out of the forest, her hair flowing behind her in the speed of her escape.

"After her!" Skara called under his breath. The others grunted their acknowledgment and tore off through the woods, Skara following. Then noises erupted behind them, back where the rest of the band was, shouts and the clash of weapons. The rest of the group must have been fighting with the sentinels of the Elvenwood.

"Gar!" Skara cursed the luck that separated the Easterlings now, a battle on one hand and a prize captive on the other. Trusting the other two to pursue the child, Skara raced back towards his men, drawing his short sword as he flew over the rocks and the tree-roots.

By the time that Skara arrived, the fight was over. The Elves were nowhere to be seen, but Skara saw a group of his men pursuing deeper into the forest at a pace. Shouting hoarsely after them, he called them back. Cursing and muttering, they re-joined the rest of the group.

"What happened?" Skara asked one of his fellows.

"We were lying hidden, when Elves came near. We would've been seen, we had to attack first. We managed to wound one but then they all banded together and fought their way out. They fled deeper into the woods, the cowards!"

"They'll be back with more of their kind, then," Skara noted. "We must leave the woods. Rogar and Ru-Sahn have our prize already. Come! Be quick! If you can't run now, you stay behind!"

All thoughts of wounds or weariness fell from them. The Easterlings had tasted battle, and now were hungry for more. Several bore marks from the fray, and one was bleeding heavily from his shoulder. Taking no time to dress it properly, they wrapped it around with beast-fur to halt the bleeding, and sped off after Skara down the trail.