[Amanaduial the archer]

OCC: The end of this post is about ten minutes before Arien's post.

"This way, quickly, don't panic!" Fionel yelled. Absolutely no attention was paid to her voice of reason. She was about to open her mouth again, when two sticks, abandoned by Haven, caught her eye, forming an idea. Oh, cruel it was, certainly, and unfair, but by Eru it would get them moving...

Grabbing the sticks she held one diagonally across the other, and smacked it down hard, producing a whip-like sound. That was the point- and it worked. The sound of the whip made the slaves quiet immediately, out of habit. Fionel threw the sticks down, but there was no time to apologise. She turned to see if she could spot Rhunnaro or his companion, but as she did so, she stumbled against an object sticking straight up in the ground. A sword- her sword- its hilt pointing slightly in one direction. Fionel followed the way it pointed and, sure enough, saw the two horses making off- but there were three figures. Squinting she saw that one of them held his leg oddly- so Turos was with them. Good. Turning back to the slaves, she waved in that direction.

"Go! Rhunnaro will help us, if we follow him! Go!" Or I hope he will... The slaves surged past her and she followed, in the midst of them. But as Desolyn passed her, Fionel saw the look of disgust on her face- Fionel would pay for the stick trick. But she put it out of her mind for the moment, concentrating on taking her own advice and following the horsemen. But there seemed to be a smaller number of them than before...She did a quick check. Turos was with Rhunnaro, herself, Desolyn, Haven, Santiara...that was only five! She ran through in her mind and realised, even in her panicky state, that Dôranna and Lanbriel were missing.

"Two of us are missing- I'm going back." Fionel turned and began to go and the others, confused, turned with her. Fionel looked desperately at Desolyn and, rolling her eyes, the other took charge, calling to the rest to keep going and follow her. Fionel nodded and turned back. She jogged fast to the camp and scanned the empty clearing, then began to go around the outskirts of the forest. She heard breathing and turned to see Haven- the girl had followed her. She grinned and dipped her head to her, then got back to searching. At that moment, with excellent timing, Lanbriel and Dôranna shot out of the forest, eyes wide, panting. They stuttered and stammered for a moment, before Fionel handed them the water container which she had had the prescence of mind to bring. They gulped at the water and hastily told their story. Fionel nodded grimly. "You did well, and thought quickly. You may have bought us some extra time." She pointed in the direction the others were running. "Go, follow them and Rhunnaro- they will help. I know you're tired, but please. We're coming as well."

Haven also nodded, but there was a strange distraction in her eyes. Suddenly they sharpened, and for a moment were almost pleading. "You will come as well, won't you? Don't leave us Fionel, don't turn to the Hunters."

Fionel stared at her, shocked, then outraged. "How dare you? How could I? And why would you think that-" She looked closely. The impassive look had once more come over Haven's eyes. A shiver ran down Fionel's spine- the Hunt was affected some of them mentally as well as straining them physically. Her voice became more gentle, and she opened her mouth to say she would come as well, when she caught sight of Ranchard.

He was still bound and gagged, and sat on the floor, no longer straining wildly, but watching them, his eyes bright and cruel. Fionel thought of the things she had heard of him, the things he had done, both to animals...and to slaves. He was sitting in the shade of a tree, and from the West, where the others were running, he would not be able to be seen. A glitter in the corner of her vision reminded her that the sword was still there. She paused, the jerked as if she had heard something in the woods, causing the others to do the same. She turned to them, almost working on auto-pilot as a part of her brain which she had never known existed started to come into play, but her voice was perfectly convincing. "They come nearer- go, I will draw them off then follow. Don't worry," She cut off Lanbriel's protests. "I will be fine, I can run fast and I will...do some damage to the Hunters. Go!"

They hovered for a moment, but all three were keen to get away, and this over ruled their concern. Lanbriel grasped Fionel's hands for a moment in a silent blessing, then they were off.

Fionel headed into the forest, counted to five as she waited, then came out. She drew the sword slowly from the ground, she turned to face Ranchard. She paced slowly towards him, the sword still lowered, its point to the ground. Ranchard was still watching her, his eyes impassive and arrogant- he still saw her as nothing, not even a threat, even when she held the sword. When she spoke, the slave's voice was quiet, and a perfect calm had settled over her.

"Are you scared, Ranchard?"

He still just looked at her.

"Are you scared of me, Ranchard, slavemaster?"

Still nothing. She raised the sword, and pointed it towards him, her arm steady. She felt oddly excited, and for the first time, she saw an edge of doubt and, yes, fear in her eyes.

"Do you feel what your victims felt? Oh, but what about now?" Saying so, she nicked his cheek with the tip of the sword, and the shock made the big man reel. Fionel couldnt help the grin which came onto her face.

What if...

The tip of the sword was centimetres from his face, and she moved it slowly from left to right to left, watching his eyes follow it.

What if...

She had the power to make this sadistic creature pay for all the time she had been there, all the family she had lost, all the friends they had killed...

What if....

A noise distracted her, a noise from the forest, and she jerked forward as if something in her had changed. Her arm suddenly began to shake as she realised what she had almost done, and she almost dropped the sword. Aye, what if...what if she had lost her soul there, what if she had killed him...

What if she had become as bad as him?

Grasping the sword still, she turned and ran.