[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Evren’s heart beat faster as she was thrown onto the ground, aching terribly all over. There was some commotion nearer the front of the line of orcs, but she could not see it as she was lying facing the other direction, and was far too winded to struggle enough to turn over. She could see, however, that Donlamir and Pherdur could see what was happening, so in a whisper she asked: “what is it?” They merely went on staring and suddenly she felt a hand flip her back over gently, a far softer hand than that of any of the orcs. It was a human woman! Pherdur said urgently: "go back, Evren. Go tell Fededhor where we are!" as the woman struggled to untie her. For a moment she blanched, then nodded, though it hurt terribly to do so. Donlamir pulled himself up with an effort, then pushed her, hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to make her fall. "Go! We'll cover you!" he said, seeming to understand that she was reluctant to leave them here. She looked quickly at the orcs, realizing there was a man fighting them. She saw also that he was beginning to give in, beginning to fall back. A boy lay at the side of the road. "Take my little boy. Please!" the woman yelled. "He's hurt, please take him!" Evren nodded, picking him up as she passed, his arms curling around her, making her hurt even more. As she looked back from the forest, she saw the man falling, and the woman running into the group to help him. Pherdur and Donlamir stood up, though it was obvious that what they both wanted, just like she wanted, was just a rest, and stood by the edge of the clearing. It hurt Evren to know she was the only one, that the rest would be recaptured, surely. But she could help. She walked faster, unable to run, heaving the boy over her shoulder. He did not protest. Evren was scared for him, as though she had never handled children before, it was obvious that he was sick, or hurt, or both. His face was tinged green, and the only time he had moved even a bit was when she had picked him up.
* * *
It seemed to Evren that she had been plodding on for hours, dropping what remained of her strength along the way, when finally she heard guarded voices. She could not even feel happiness for what was happening. The boy seemed to be stiffening even more, though she tried to do what she could for them. She had found a lot on her way back. She had not thought anything at all along the way, which helped, and now she knew how to dodge the branches whipping in her face, most of the time, how to forget that she was carrying something, how not to slip in her own blood, and to forget that she had left the others behind, to a possible death. She was only worried that she might be traced, because she still left a slight bloody trail behind her, but when she could bend over, she did, throwing leaves over the mess. She saw the clearing, finally, and the men pacing it. She stumbled forward, the boy suddenly seeming like dead weight to her. She looked up as she fell flat into the clearing, at the faces of the men. She would have to tell them what had happened to the others... but she could not bring herself to it just then, though Fededhor’s face looked troubled and surprised. She dropped her eyes, and hoped they would believe her when she woke.